#but this is what happens after steamy makeout sessions on the living room floor

[happy-lemon]

[ally-writes-many-things]

Firestarter (Tristan Flynn) 18+

Summary: You had a crush on Flynn for all of your life but being Dec's little sister, Flynn never looked at her like that.

Words: 6.4K

Warnings or A/N: thinking about doing a part 2. Towards the end of the story, there is a very descriptive smut. MDNI with this story.

Art

Tristan Flynn had this charm to him that could draw females towards him with just a single glance, while his intimidating glare could send enemies fleeing in fear. It was this captivating thing that had initially sparked your crush on him.

Currently, he was seated in an armchair, with a dryad nestled on his lap. You couldn't help but let out a sigh, tearing your eyes away and taking a sip from your cup. "Are you interested, Emmett?"

"Interested in what?" You asked in confusion.

"We're all heading to the White Raven. Are you in?" came the question.

"You two have the biggest mouths in town," you heard Bryce remark, causing you to turn your head and see Bryce standing next to Declan, Flynn, and her cousin.

Flynn winked mischievously at her. "I thought you enjoyed my mouth."

"Keep dreaming, lordling," Bryce responded with a smirk.

You glanced at Bryce, taking in her captivating beauty. She exuded confidence with her voluptuous figure, flawless complexion, and mesmerizing eyes. Her vibrant red hair cascaded down her back in gentle waves. She was undoubtedly Flynn's type, unlike yourself. While you knew you were hot, you couldn't compare to Bryce Quinlin's allure. As she turned around and spotted you, a warm smile adorned her face. "Hey, (Name)."

Returning her greeting, you offered a sweet smile in return. "Hey, Bryce."

Although jealousy occasionally flickered towards Bryce and the attention Flynn showed her, you didn't hold it against her. After all, she couldn't control how others perceived her. Glancing briefly at Flynn, who was currently engaged in a steamy makeout session with the dryad, you refocused your attention on your group of friends. Placing your cup down, you nodded. "Let's do it."

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆

Upon waking up, a pulsating headache throbbed in your head, accompanied by a knocking at your front door. As you opened your bedroom door, you saw your friends sprawled on the floor, fast asleep alongside some unfamiliar guys. Before you could even make your way towards the door, it swung open, revealing Dec standing there. He glanced at the males scattered across your living room floor before directing a pointed look towards you. In response, you rolled your eyes and approached him, firmly placing your hand on his shoulder and guiding him out of your house. "What have I told you about coming into my house uninvited?"

"If you had answered your door the first fifty times or even responded to my calls, I wouldn't have to," he retorted.

"Why are you going through all this trouble?" you inquired.

"Because I turned my attention away from you for a moment and you vanished. I just assumed you had left, but then neither you nor your friends could be reached," he explained.

Your heart began to race. Has something happened to Flynn or Ruhn? "What's happened? Are Flynn and Ruhn alright?"

"Yeah, they're fine," he reassured.

"Why are you here at seven in the morning?" you pressed.

"Just checking on you, since nobody could find you at the party and you were ignoring your phone. Now I know why you were busy sleeping with those guys, who knows what they wanted," he remarked sharply.

Perplexed, you blinked at your brother, wondering why he was speaking to you in such a manner. His best friends frequently slept with random women, after all. "Hold on, are you seriously lecturing me for sleeping with random guys when your roommates do the exact same thing with women? Do you honestly believe I'm foolish enough to bring males home? They brought them here. I didn't even know until I woke up. Declan, you of all people should know I would never do that. I'm not that type of woman," You said, releasing a frustrated sigh.

Declan pulled you into a hug, and you reciprocated. "I just tend to get overprotective. I'm your older brother. It's my duty to look out for you," he admitted.

"D, you made sure I could fend for myself when you're not around. You, Ruhn, and Flynn all did," you asserted, stepping away from the embrace. "I'm not that little girl anymore. Your job is complete."

Declan offered a sad smile. "My responsibility to protect you doesn't end simply because you've grown up. I will always be there for you."

"Yeah, yeah. Now, get to the Aux before they fire your ass," you teased.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆

As you stepped into the dimly lit atmosphere of the White Raven, you couldn't help but notice the various scenes unfolding around you. Some people were indulging in drugs in the corners, while others were drowning themselves in alcohol or dancing on the dance floor. Over to the right, in the VIP section, you spotted Ruhn, Declan, Flynn and the dryad from the other night. You rolled your eyes, already sensing that your night was about to become less enjoyable, but you were determined not to let them ruin your fun. You led your friends to your usual table and ordered a round of drinks.

Just as the waiter returned with your beverages, Flynn's dryad friend started making her way towards your table. You let out a sigh, knowing how this was going to play out. "Here we go," you muttered.

"She's going to try to act like she's Flynn's girlfriend," one of your friends predicted.

"They always do," another chimed in.

“If you need anything else, let the bartender know. My name is Myles,” The waiter winked at you three before sauntering away, and just as he did, the dryad approached your table.

She opened her mouth to speak, but your friend interrupted her. "Before you say anything to (Name), just know that you're not special. Flynn will keep you around for, what, two or maybe three weeks before he gets bored and tosses you aside," Your friend sneered.

The dryad's eyes narrowed at your friend before shifting her gaze to you. "Everyone knows that you have a crush on Flynn, but he's not interested in you at all. He's only friends with you because you're his best friend's little sister," she retorted.

You chuckled and turned to face her. "Have you ever noticed the hair tie on his right wrist?"

The dryad nodded. "Yes, what about it?"

"It's mine. I gave it to him a few years ago to hold for me and forgot about it. When I asked for it back, he refused, saying that it's like a piece of me is always with him. So, if you think I don't matter to him, I dare you to go ask him to take it off," You explained calmly as you took a sip of your drink.

The dryad's eyes narrowed further before silently walking back towards the VIP section. "You know Flynn won't be happy about this, right?" she warned.

"I couldn't care less. If he doesn't want me telling off his bitches, he should keep them from running their mouths to me," you replied, undeterred.

You finished your drink and sat it down on the table. With a carefree spirit, you sauntered onto the dance floor, ready to let loose and allow the music to wash over you. As the rhythm embraced you, your body effortlessly swayed and grooved, purely in sync with the music in the club. Your moves became more intricate and mesmerizing with each passing beat.

The bass thumped through your body, elevating your mood and intensifying your connection with the music. With each step, you felt a surge of electricity running through your veins, pulsating with the rhythm. The crowd around you seemed to fade away, and it was just you and the music, in a euphoric trance.

The colorful lights danced across your skin, accentuating your fluid movements and creating an aura of mystique. Everything else became a blur as you surrendered yourself to the music, allowing it to guide you, to release any inhibitions or worries that burdened you.

As you felt a touch on your hips, you turned around to discover that it was Myles, the waiter. Myles was hot and you wanted to feel every inch of him, causing you to realize that you were now ready to move on from Flynn. The constant presence of Flynn's bitches approaching you with intentions to intimidate, driven by their jealousy, had grown tiresome. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you found solace in placing your back against his chest while the rhythm of the club music guided your movements.

Feeling his warmth and steady heartbeat against your back, you let yourself relax and melt into him. His strong arms encircled your waist, pulling you closer. The pulsating beats of the music resonated through your bodies, synchronizing your movements and creating an intoxicating dance between the two of you.

As you closed your eyes, you willingly submitted to the music, allowing it to gently guide your bodies closer in an intimate embrace. Softly, his warm breath whispered against your ear, presenting a question, "Would you like to continue this elsewhere?"

In response, you subtly released your arms from around his neck and nodded in agreement. "Absolutely," You responded with certainty.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆

"And today she simply yelled at me," The dryad recounted.

He nodded his head passively as he endured the dryad's ceaseless prattle. The subject matter held no interest for him whatsoever. Together, they made their way to the White Raven to meet with Ruhn and Declan, intending to drown their collective stress with copious amounts of alcohol. Although it had been several days since he had last spoken to you, an underlying annoyance nagged at Flynn. Yet, he forced himself to suppress those rising thoughts as he approached Ruhn and Declan. "Yo, Flynn. We've got a couple glasses of your regular order," Ruhn announced.

"Sweet," Flynn replied, accepting one of the glasses and swiftly consuming its contents.

The trio struggled to engage in any meaningful conversation, thanks to the incessant ramblings of the dryad. Just as Flynn was contemplating ordering another drink, Ruhn's gaze fixated upon someone, causing a mischievous grin to form on his face. "She's going to cause trouble for us tonight," Ruhn remarked.

Curiosity piqued, both Declan and Flynn directed their gaze towards the same individual. True to Ruhn's prediction, she was definitely going to cause trouble for them tonight. Clad in a short form-fitting black dress with a captivating hollow halter neckline that accentuated her every curve, her hair flowed elegantly down her back. Flynn couldn't help but be captivated by her hair, as he often was. He loved your hair.

She exchanged a pleasant smile with one of the males as he walked by, instantly capturing Flynn's attention. He became tense when he noticed that almost all the males in the club were fixated on her. His gaze followed her as she led her group of friends to their regular table and placed an order with the waiter. Flynn noticed the dryad casting a disapproving glare at him, but he paid no mind. All that mattered to him was keeping her within his sight, especially when she was dressed like that. He only realized that the dryad had left when she reached your table.

One of your friends said something to her, prompting the dryad to turn and address you. However, all you did was laugh and say something back before heading onto the dance floor. The dryad returned to Flynn and scrutinized his wrist. "If we're going to be together, I want you to remove that hair tie."

Ruhn and Declan winced upon hearing her demand, fully understanding the significance of that hair tie to Flynn. Declan glanced at the dryad. "I wouldn't do that."

"I refuse to date someone who keeps another woman's hair tie on his wrist. Take it off," the dryad insisted.

Flynn's hand instinctively touched the hair tie before he lifted his arm to show it to her. "You mean this hair tie?"

Flynn forced a laugh before locking eyes with the dryad. "Do you have any idea how annoying you are? Sure, you may be good in bed, but that doesn't make up for how unbearable you truly are. We are not dating, and we never will be. This hair tie will remain on my wrist, unless it breaks. Now, get the fuck out of the VIP section and lose my contact information."

The dryad attempted to voice her objection, but Ruhn swiftly indicated to the security guard to remove her. Flynn paid no further heed to the dryad, directing his gaze towards the dance floor until he spotted you. His heart sank as he witnessed you and the waiter moving your bodies to the music. His hands were against her waist, guiding you effortlessly across the crowded dance floor. There was something festering inside him but he didn't know what the feeling was.

With each beat of the music, his grip on his glass grew tighter, his knuckles turning white. His once easy going demeanor morphed into something unrecognizable - a mixture of turmoil, anger, and an unfamiliar emotion. He couldn't stand the sight any longer, couldn't bear to see you leaving the White Raven with another male.

He got out of his seat to push the waiter away from you but he was halted by Declan. "Don't," he urged.

Confused, Flynn exclaimed, "What do you mean, don't? She's leaving with him,”

Declan calmly took a sip of his drink and sighed. "She is a grown woman, whom we have all trained. She is fully capable of handling herself, and she knows that we are just a phone call away if she needs us."

Flynn glanced towards the exit of the white Raven, observing the two of you departing.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆

To: Fireststarter

Hey.

To: Firestar.

I saw you leave the club with that guy. Just checking in. You good?

To: Firestar

Hello?

To: Firestar

(Name)

To: Fireststarter

Oh, so you can text Ruhn and Declan back but not me?

Flynn gazed at the multitude of messages he had sent you that remained unacknowledged or unseen. He had reached out to you this morning to check on your well-being, but upon receiving no response, a sense of worry had washed over him. Ruhn and Declan assured him that you were fine, but Flynn couldn't bring himself to fully accept their reassurances. After all, it was unlike you to disregard his messages. So, he found himself standing on your doorstep, inhaling deeply before rapping on the door with trepidation. "Coming," your voice echoed from within.

A surge of relief coursed through Flynn upon hearing your voice; you were safe. However, as you opened the door, his heart sank. Dressed in a male's shirt adorned with visible hickeys on your neck, you greeted him with a casual "Oh hey Flynn."

"Hey. I was just checking up on you. You never responded to any of my texts," he uttered, concern evident in his tone.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I had intended to, but got caught up with something," you explained.

"Yeah, that 'something' would be me," a male voice chimed in from behind the door.

You glanced back with amusement before redirecting your attention to Flynn. "Are we finished here? You can see that I'm alive."

Flynn nodded solemnly, and you promptly closed the door in his face.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆

It has been several weeks, and Flynn has not heard from you much, maybe only two or three times. Surprisingly, Ruhn and even your own brother haven't heard from you much either. It was painful for Flynn, feeling like you were pushing him away, and he was unsure of how to handle the situation.

"Have you seen (Name)? She actually seems genuinely happy for once," Flynn overheard Ruhn and Declan talking in the kitchen.

Ruhn remarked. "I think it's all thanks to Myles," he added.

Flynn quietly approached the kitchen and noticed Declan and Ruhn standing next to the island with an opened box of pizza. "Nah," Declan replied, taking a slice. "While Myles may have played a role in her happiness, ultimately, it's her own doing. She's smart enough not to rely solely on one guy for her happiness."

At that moment, Flynn entered the kitchen and went to the fridge to grab a beer. He couldn't help but ask, "So, she's still with Myles?"

"As far as I know," Declan replied, taking a bite of his pizza.

Flynn's grip on the beer bottle tightened. "I don't understand what she sees in him. He's an arrogant asshole," he expressed his frustration.

Both Ruhn and Declan rolled their eyes. Flynn had been complaining about Myles ever since you walked out of the White Raven with him for the first time. "Come on, guys. No, he's not good for her. He's cutting her off from everyone," Flynn argued.

While Declan remained silent, Ruhn decided to speak up. "Actually, Declan and I hear from her almost every day, if not every night. Her friends also hear from her multiple times a day. He's not cutting her off from anyone," Ruhn clarified.

Flynn's heart skipped a beat upon hearing that news. "What?" he exclaimed in disbelief.

"The only person who seems to be cut off is you," Ruhn said softly.

Flynn's breathing became heavy as he processed the information. It felt as though his world was closing in on him. Could it be true that he was the only one you had distanced yourself from? What had he done wrong? "Why would she do that? I haven't done anything wrong," he questioned, feeling a mix of confusion and hurt.

Declan, who had remained silent on the matter, slammed his hands on the table. "You are right. You hasn't done anything wrong. Ever since she was young, she has had fucking feelings for you. But now that she has grown tired of waiting for your attention and moved on, you suddenly want to act jealous and talk shit about the person that is allowing her to do that? Stop treating her as if she is some kind of lost puppy. Leave my sister the fuck alone, Tristan," Declan stated with a venomous tone before storming out of the kitchen.

The only instances when people referred to him by his full name were when he made mistakes or if they were extremely angry with him. Flynn observed his best friend climbing the staircase to his room before turning his attention back to Ruhn. "I am not jealous. She has been with other people before," he explained as he took a seat on the bar stool.

Leaning against the counter, Ruhn crossed his arms over his chest. "This is different, and deep down, you know it," he asserted.

Flynn sighed and covered his face with his hands. "Yes, I do know that, but I can't quite pinpoint what it is. I have never had such anissue with her seeing other guys like this before."

"That's because you were use to her constant attention. Now that she no longer gives it to you, you realize that you never gave her a chance. You never gave that extraordinary, one-of-a-kind girl a real chance. The girl who would do anything for you, and now you can't," Ruhn replied.

Flynn uncovers his face and remarks, "You sound like you were in love with her."

"Maybe I once was, but it wasn't me that she wanted," Ruhn uttered, uncrossing his arms and leaving the room.

Flynn quietly eased himself off the barstool, swiftly draped his jacket over his shoulders, and exited his house. He needed some time alone to ponder over the emotions swirling inside him before discussing them with you. Was he experiencing these sentiments simply due to his familiarity with receiving your attention, or was he truly developing genuine feelings towards you?

As Flynn stepped outside, the cool afternoon air provided some clarity amidst the confusion in his mind. He strolled down the streets, his thoughts consumed by the question of his emotions towards you. The weight of his jacket, a familiar comfort, mirrored the weight of his contemplations.

Flynn had always appreciated your attention and cherished the moments you spent together. Whether it was engaging conversations or shared experiences, your presence in his life had become significant. Yet, as he delved deeper into his thoughts, he contemplated whether these sentiments were merely a result of familiarity or if they held true depth.

He recalled instances when your interactions transcended friendship, filling him with a sense of warmth and happiness. Moments where laughter came effortlessly, and conversations flowed effortlessly. But Flynn wondered if these were fleeting sparks that could scatter in the wind, leaving nothing but ashes behind.

As he continued his solitary walk, Flynn sifted through memories of shared experiences, both joyful and challenging. The genuine care and support you had shown him when he needed it most left a lasting impression. Your unwavering presence had forged a bond that he couldn't easily dismiss.

"Come on, Myles," a familiar voice beckoned.

Flynn's attention was immediately drawn to the voice and he spotted Myles with a different girl, seated at a restaurant's patio. Upon closer inspection, Flynn recognized her as one of your closest friends. A surge of anger coursed through his veins as he witnessed your best friend lean in and kiss Myles. When your friend noticed him, her eyes widened in shock and she muttered, "Oh, fuck."

"What's wrong?" Myles inquired, turning to face the source of the disturbance. Realizing Flynn's presence, he hurriedly stood up and retreated. "This isn't what you think," he pleaded.

Flynn's hand tightened into a clenched fist by his side as he confidently advanced a few steps. "Oh really? It looks like that you are cheating on (Name) with her best friend," he stated.

Myles stumbled backwards, guilt plastered across his face, intermingled with threads of shame. "Flynn, I can explain. It's not what you think," he stammered, his voice filled with panic.

Flynn clenched his fists. His gaze shifted towards your best friend, her expression a mixture of guilt and sorrow. Anguish jolted through his body, shoving away any lingering doubts or denial.

Flynn lunged forward, his fist colliding with Myles' cheekbone. The sickening crack echoed through the streets.

Myles recoiled, his hand instinctively reaching for his throbbing cheek. Anger and desperation twisted his features as he lunged forward himself, his fist aiming for Flynn's jaw. The punch landed, the sharp pain reverberating through Flynn's skull, but it only fueled his determination to wipe the grin off Myles' face.

Ignoring the dull pain that spread from his face, Flynn unleashed a torrent of punches, each fueled by a cocktail of raw emotion. Blow after blow, he vented his anger, that turned to pure wrath. Eventually, with each strike, Myles began to show the invisible cracks, his movements faltering, his strength waning.

And then, like a final act of defiance against the inevitable, Flynn summoned every ounce of courage he possessed. A powerful right hook, fueled by his pain and the agonizing realization of Myles' betrayal, landed squarely on his jaw. Myles crumbled onto the pavement, defeated and broken.

Flynn's gaze was squarely fixated on Myles, who was scattered on the pavement before shifting his attention towards the gathered crowd. He was well-aware that this incident would be broadcasted on the news later, but his indifference remained unshaken. Swiftly, he brushed away the trickling blood from his lip and turned his focus to your best friend. "You are nothing but a fucking whore that gets her ass beatwhen she finds out. I genuinely hope that once your employers become aware of what you did to their daughter, they ruin your pathetic ass life," he uttered, emphasizing his words with a formal tone. “She didnt deserve this. You don't deserve her,”

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆

When he got home, he disregarded the barrage of questions hurled at him by Ruhn. Explaining himself to him held no importance to him, only one he will explain himself to was you. Entering his bathroom in his room, he flicked on the light, fixing his gaze upon his reflection in the mirror. Various bruises marred his facial features, accompanied by a few cuts on his lip. The cut on his lip would likely heal within a few hours, while the bruises on his face would likely subside by tomorrow evening.

"Gods, Trist," You uttered, his eyes meeting yours through the mirror before he turned towards you directly. Clad in a simple CCU crop top and leggings, he greeted you with a slight smirk. "You should see the other guy," he sheepishly smiled.

Approaching him, you chuckled. "I already did. I was sent the video. Please, sit on your bed," You instructed, bending down to retrieve a cloth from the bottom drawer.

"Firestar-" he began to say.

Firestar.

He gave the nickname "Firestar" after witnessing your Drop and the manifestation of your fire manipulation abilities. Recognizing your initial disappointment upon discovering that you shared this power with Dec, he assured that you were the star among fire users, nicknaming you as Firestar.

“Sit down," you commanded assertively.

He nodded, retreating to his bed, while you soaked a cloth in water. Witnessing you wringing out the excess water from the rag over the sink, he was momentarily captivated. Turning off the bathroom light, you approached him, assuming a position on your knees before him. This image provoked him to almost go feral, a sensation he had never experienced in your presence. Shaking off these unfamiliar emotions, he allowed you to tend to his hand, cleaning the remnants of Myles' blood. After discarding the used cloth in his bathroom, you retrieved another, standing up in the process. Straddling him unexpectedly, you caused his breath to hitch in his throat. He placed his hands on your bare skin. It was while you attended to cleaning the blood from his face that he couldn't help but notice, with heightened appreciation, the sheer beauty that radiated from you. Though he had always recognized this allure, there was something indefinable that set you apart in this moment, something that made his heart skip a beat. Perhaps it was the way your focused gaze softened as you meticulously attended to his wounds, or the way your hands moved with grace and gentleness as you wiped away the blood.

In that moment, everything faded into the background, and he realized that he had been taking you for granted all this time. The simple act of tending to his wounds made him recognize the depth and complexity of emotions he felt towards you. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing the full extent of his admiration and love for you.

"Why did you do it?" you gently inquired, placing your hands upon his chest.

"It is one thing to cheat, but an entirely different matter to cheat on you. You did not deserve that. I would repeat my actions countless times, even if it meant incurring you being mad or if it caused you to hate me," he confessed, his grip on your hips tightening.

Though he despised the notion of you hating him, he spoke with unwavering sincerity. He would obliterate anyone who dared to harm you.

"Why him, though? I have been in relationships with others in the past and have experienced cheating before, yet you never did that before," Flynn exhaled heavily. "This is different. I was not bothered by your past relationships because you didn't ghost me. However, it killed me to see you with Myles, knowing you cut me off."

"I didn't want to. He made me," you explained, guilt filling your voice.

"I fucking knew it. I knew you would not cut me off like that. It wasn't like you," Flynn remarked.

"Why does it matter whether I cut you off or not? I assumed you would either forget about me or not even notice," you responded.

This behavior was unlike you. Typically, you exuded confidence and never doubted yourself, even with him. Your fiery personality and self-assurance were always present. "Are you joking?" Flynn questioned.

As you glanced down at your legs that were separated by Flynn's legs, Flynn took a deep breath before gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze. "You are unforgettable, firestar. Do you really believe I could forget about you, especially when I keep this hair tie on my wrist? You know me better than that."

"I am unforgettable compared to the girls that jump at you," you added.

Flynn was incredulous at the words that reached his ears. With a disapproving shake of his head. “Shut up,”

Your widened eyes revealed hurt as Flynn gently brushed his hand across your cheek and into your hair, drawing you closer to him. He drew you nearer to him, gently pressed his lips against yours.

As your lips met, time stood still, and everything else faded away. It felt like a dream, but the electricity coursing through his body assured him that it was very much real. Your fingers seamlessly intertwined with his silky hair and tugged on it. In return, he licked your lips with his tongue, seeking dominance over this kiss. Meeting his request without hesitation, your mouth welcomed his entry with an eager embrace. A delightful shiver down his spine as his tongue slid over mine, evoking a pleasurable moan that escaped your lips, savoring his taste that enveloped your senses.

His touch was electric, sending tingles down your spine as you deepened the kiss, lost in the moment with him. Every movement, every breath, was synchronized as you both moved your lips together.

His hands roamed your body, igniting a fire within you that only he could quench. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, yet you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. His presence consumed you, drawing you deeper into the depths of desire and lust.

As you reached out to unbutton his shirt, Flynn suddenly pulled away from you and grasped your hands to halt your movements. "I'm sorry, I misinterpreted the situation," You expressed, retracting your hands and preparing to move away. However, Flynn firmly held onto your thighs, anchoring you in place.

“I am well aware that you can feel just how fucking bad I want you as my dick is between your legs but I want to make you know that I just don't want to fuck you. I want all of it. I am willing to take this slow," Flynn explained.

Although he wanted so badly to throw you on this bed and have you scream his name, he wanted you to know that it wasn't just for sex.

After a tender kiss, you reassured Flynn of your understanding. "Let's talk about this after we've fucked," You stated as you proceeded to remove Flynn's shirt.

You position yourself on your knees before him. As you ran your hand over his jeans, Flynn responded by rolling his eyes. Taking your time to savor the moment, you began to unbuckle his pants, prompting him to lift his hips to allow you to remove them. Placing your lips upon him through his boxers, you kissed him before exploring further with your tongue, never breaking eye contact.

Flynn found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you, his breath becoming increasingly unsteady as you continued to kiss and lick him through his boxers. Though the temptation to remove the barrier between you two and take him into your mouth was strong, he restrained himself, captivated by the raw desire in your eyes. With his boxers now removed, you revealed him fully, eliciting a skipped beat from Flynn's heart as you smiled at his size. Firmly grasping him, you elicited a gasp as he responded eagerly to your touch. As you licked and explored every inch of him. “Gods,” Flynn uttered.

Despite Flynn's desire to be more assertive, he allowed you to lead this, not wanting to overshadow the experience for you. While he longed to hear your reaction to him making you gag, he restrained himself, saving that intensity for another time.

The sound of your pleasure as you pushed him to the back of your throat was enough to make him go feral. He couldn't resist grabbing a handful of your hair and increasing the intensity, reveling in the beautiful sounds you made.

As he fucked your mouth, he found pleasure in observing his dick disappearing into your mouth, eagerly anticipating the moment when it would be buried deep inside your pussy. With a guttural groan, he reached his peak and released into your mouth, which you continued sucking until he spilled completely down your throat.

Flynn firmly grasped your throat, hoisting you up from the ground. He kissed you while he removed the hair tie that held your hair back, releasing your beautiful hair from its confinement. He absolutely loved your hair and the way it cascaded down your back like a waterfall of silk. He couldn't resist running his fingers through it, feeling the smooth strands slide between his fingertips. As he continued to kiss you, he felt your body relax against his, surrendering to the desire that burned between you two.

With a low growl, he let go of your neck and pushed you onto the bed. "It's not fair that you're still fully clothed while I'm naked," he remarked.

In response, you flashed a mischievous smile. “Rip them off," you suggested wickedly.

Flynn smiled mischievously in return, taking hold of your shirt and tearing it into shreds, scattering the torn fabric across the room. He noted your lack of a bra when he first caught sight of you in the mirror earlier. Your body responded eagerly to his touch, with your nipples eagerly anticipating his attention. However, he decided to give them attention later as he wanted to taste your pussy.

In a swift motion, he replicated his actions on your leggings, tearing them away and discarding them aside. Firmly gripping your thighs, he positioned himself between your legs and lowered himself onto the bed. Beginning at the base, he traced his tongue upwards along you, eliciting a delicious response from you. The sensation of your moans reverberated through him, further fueling his desire. Concentrating on your pleasure, Flynn shifted his focus to your clit, causing you to arch in pleasure.

As you writhed beneath his touch, Flynn maintained his composure, steadying your movements with a firm hand on your waist. Inserting a finger inside you, he initiated a rhythmic motion that elicited a deep moan from your throat. "Just like that," he murmured, his actions conveying a sense of mastery and control.

As he was on the brink of adding another finger, the interruption came in the form of his door being pushed open. Consumed by you, Flynn paid little heed to the person, fully immersed in bringing you please.

"What the fuck is going on here?”

Even Declan's voice failed to divert his attention from your clit. "Oh hey, Dec," you greeted nonchalantly.

Your voice exhibited traces of euphoria akin to the effects of Mirthroot, a reaction that elicited a smile from Flynn, aware that he was the catalyst. "What the fuck is this?" inquired Declan.

"Your best friend is eating me out. Would you, I don't know, get the fuck out?" You requested.

As the door closed behind Declan, Flynn intensified his actions, inserting an additional digit within you and increasing the intensity, skillfully manipulating his fingers to elicit loud moans. "Gods, Flynn," you exclaimed, your hand finding their way to his hair as you held onto it firmly.

As he indulged in licking, sucking, and biting, the sounds of your increasing moans only fueled his passion. He savored each and every one of your desperate breaths, keenly aware of your impending climax. "Let yourself go, baby girl," he whispered against your clit.

The vibrations of Flynn's words against your skin proved to be the final trigger, causing you to reach the peak of ecstasy and release all control as you climaxed on his face.

Flynn lapped up all of it before leaning up and pumped himself a few good times making sure he was hard enough for you before he flipped you on to your stomach and pulled your ass up to the air. He lined himself up to your entrance and pushed himself into you. You both groaned at the stretching he was causing.

Placing his hands on your hips, he began to move slowly, mindful of not causing you discomfort as you adjusted to his size. "Fuck me like you mean it, Trist. You're not going to break me," you urged.

"You’re going to regret that," Flynn replied, withdrawing from you momentarily before thrusting back in with force.

A sharp cry escaped your lips as you welcomed the pain. With a firm grip on your hips, Flynn increased the hardness and depth of his movements, leaving you grasping at the sheets.

He moved with a forcefulness that made him acutely aware of every point of contact, prompting you to match your movements with his. "Do you like how I feel?" you asked, your voice purred.

"Yes, baby. You feel fucking amazing. Even if I desired another cunt, which I do not, my thoughts would still be consumed by you," he confessed.

Upon hearing his words, you swiftly positioned yourself on top of him, reveling in the sensation of him filling you completely. "I want to fucking ride you," you declared.

Flynn smiled approvingly and agreed. He rarely allowed others to take the reins, but for you, he would make an exception.

You began to move vigorously on top of him, emitting sounds that reverberated in his ears. Flynn was completely absorbed in the moment, experiencing a level of satisfaction he had never felt before. His declaration that he desired only you rang true, as he was utterly captivated by your presence.

"Gods!" Flynn groaned as you both reached climax. Your ecstatic reaction echoed throughout the room, with Flynn showing no concern for the presence of Declan and Ruhn. As you collapsed onto his chest, both of you breathing heavily, a silence enveloped the room as you rested. Gradually, your breaths steadied, eventually lulling you to sleep, exhausted from it.

As he listened to your breathing, he thought about everything. He thought about the night that you left with Myles. That part of him that died. That feeling. Then that feeling when he saw you with him a few more times. One of those times, something hit him emotionally and physically. He didn't realize it at the time but as he listened to your breathing, it all made sense. “She’s my mate,” He said out loud.

[shhhlikeme]

👀 could I request a steamy makeout sesh with aomine pls!!

Steamy Makeout Session with Aomine Daiki 💦🔝

(mature themes)

A/N: I FINALLY FINISHED KNB AND I AM OFFICIALLY OUT HEREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE boi. I have been itching to get to these requests out and the time has finally come! Le First of many 🤍 🏀 I will update my rules now that I’m back. But basically I hope the small fan base comes back to lifeeee

Aomine Daiki knows he is probably the best kisser to ever live…… fuck

Momoi once made him join the Kissing Booth at the school carnival because she knew how much money she would raise and he literally made 2 girls faint….deadass

His kisses are exactly how we all imagine he does…..maybe a little better smh

It kind of annoys you actually

Because he will kiss you at the most strategic of times (for him) so to exercise his soft control but also to have you yearning for him all day until y’all get in your shared bed

For example, at all of his NBA games, Daiki reserves seats for you and whoever you’d like too bring in the same area every time: right by the tunnel so that he can kiss you before and after he plays

Usually its just a simple quick peck on the lips…

But today after his team surprisingly lost against the Browns, and in the midst of the post-NBA game chaos, Aomine leaned up to kiss you up where you were seated, as per usual

You leaned down to meet him halfway, pressing your lips on his then pulling away from the peck you were used to at games. However, Daiki just urgently cups your face in his giant hands and kisses you with astonishing passion, stealing your breath, and moving his soft lips across yours in the heady way that turns you into goo the way only Aomine knows how

His Big dick energy is on 100

and just when you forget where you even are and try to deepen the kiss, your boyfriend pulls away briskly and walks to the changeroom without so much as a goodbye

You knew that that kiss meant that you better prepare yourself NOW for the hotel room tonight because he is pissed about losing that game and he will take out his aggression on his beautiful girlfriend

You are left flustered and impossibly horny after that kiss, you have to embarrassingly smile at your girlfriends who are just as confused with Aomine’s PDA

That night, Aomine is completely silent when the driver brings you two back to the hotel, and he is silent when you two step into the luxurious elevator, too. You’re used to it from dating an athlete, but you also know that the more silent your man is, the angrier he is about losing, meaning the better he will rail once you two get upstairs

You look up at him, staring only at his soft lips and tanned skin as you two step in the elevator and press floor 26. Another group of people are walking toward your elevator when Aomine growls lowly, so low that only you can hear it. He steps forward and puts his hand out as to say “stop” and the group halts in their place. Aomine nods at them once.

“Occupied.”

he states: his tone allowing absolutely zero room for debate. Aone stares down the surprised group as the doors shut.

When they do close, your NBA player immediately whips around and lunges for you—or should I say your lips—crashing his soft ones on yours and making an entrance into your mouth, never having to beg for one. Begging is your job, when he’s edging you.

You give in and open your mouth, inhaling the scent of your boyfriend’s manly cologne and moaning into the kiss.

Aomine’s large tongue dominates yours into submission, roaming everywhere he’d like to, which also happens to be everywhere you’d like him to, also. He then sucks on your tongue with fervour at the same time that he takes both your breasts in his hands, massaging them gently.

While he is kissing you oh-so-harshly but amazingly, his hand’s ministrations are the quite the contrary— as delicate as a flower, using them to lift the bottom of your breasts slightly as if he’s weighing them, humming because he loves our chest, then using his thumbs to encircle your nipples

Aomine lets out an appreciative sigh into your mouth as your nipples harden underneath his soft touch

You can’t handle this, so you’re arching into his touch, silently begging him to be just as rough with his caresses as he is with his kisses.

He knows the contrast of his no-mercy kiss and barely there tit massage is driving you crazy

He knows.

So you tap him twice on the side of his arm: your safe signal that means you need a second, this time it’s so that you can check why this elevator is the slowest one in the fucking world mate, and when Aomine feels your tap he instantly releases you from the kiss

You immediately regretted your decision.

“No, I untap, still kiss me,” You whispered, breathless and shaken by how much you felt lost when his lips weren’t on yours.

Aomine stared into your eyes with his fiery dark blue ones, searching them to make sure you are good. When his search is merely met with the dark sultry expression in your eyes pleading at him to continue, he then just smirks but switches: now landing soft sweet kisses on your cheeks, forehead…. and then your lips but—

Since this is a switch, now that means Aomine’s gentle caresses from before now become much more relentless, taking your tits in handfuls, pushing them together and tweaking your nipples at the same time

You groan out of pleasure and Daiki does too, you not even realizing that you ultimately forgot to even check what floor y’all were passing. You just wanted him to be between your legs already

Aomine realized that his best game loss cure is making you orgasm, so you knew you anticipated the long night ahead of you

The elevator dings, announcing your arrival on the top floor finally, and Aomine lifts you up with one arm, his left forearm just under your ass, your racing heart pressed to his ear. If you lifted your hand you could easily touch the ceiling lights.

While you mentally thought about what article of clothing you were going to tear off your man first, Aomine lazily searched for the room key.

“God, hurry up,” You snap breathlessly, impatiently wanting his lips on yours again.

Your boyfriend just chuckles heartily before admitting that he forgot the key pass in the car.

You kinda want to rip his head off but you hold back because if you do that then who will kiss you madly and ruin you in the best way other than the love of your life, tonight?

Aomine just nonchalantly trotted back to the elevator and pressed the button again so the doors opened. He steps inside and immediately dropped you down a few inches (still holding you), leaning in to make out with you silly once more. You are in heaven 😩

On the way down, when the elevator annoyingly stopped on a random floor—breaking your kiss to accommodate others........ you ultimately made Aomine fall in love with you even more because you surprised him—beating him to the punch by putting a hand out to the hotel guests and stating,

“Occupied.”

Before the doors shut.

Back to my 2020 KNB Masterlist!

[slashiest-slasher]

For @slashthedice‘s Frisky February!

Day 9: Consensual Non-Con

Billy Lenz x Male s/o (WOW this is fucking long, obvious tw applied, don’t like don’t read)

Billy would never touch you without your permission. Okay, maybe that's a lie. He quite frequently hugs onto you and feels you up whenever he damn well pleases. But he would never take advantage of you, never go beyond heavy petting and steamy makeout sessions without waiting with baited breath for you to nod and tell him he can go on ahead.

For all of his eccentricities and oddities, he's holds your comfort (at least, your comfort regarding your permission) strangely high. It's so conflicting that at times it makes your head spin. One moment, absolute filth will be spilling out of his mouth and his nails will be digging into your skin hard enough to draw blood, and the next, he'll demurely look up at you through long, pale lashes asking "Can Billy?"

Honestly, it turns you on sometimes. But there were times when all you want is for Billy to take you fast and hard, without hesitation. To wrangle you to the floor and have his way with you, even if that's the last thing you want. When it's daylight out, and Billy is hidden away and sleeping in the attic, it's about the only thing you can think of when you have some you-time (which is jerking off in the shower, typically).

And tomorrow just happens to be the exact day that everything just so happens to line up for you. Barb's planning an absolute rager of a pre-game before heading over to her latest fling's place for the actual party with the rest of the girls, excluding Clare, who's heading down to the police station to get something done about the Moaner's phone calls.

You wish that you could get Billy to stop that particular habit, but he went hysterical at their reactions, how indignated and flustered and scared the girls that the sorority would get whenever he called. You found it fun at times, when Barb would tell you to "be the man of the house" and handle the calls, mostly because Billy endlessly frothed about pussy and she thought it would be a riot to have a guy on the phone. 

Getting Billy riled up by dirty talking (or dishing him some of his own medicine, as the others thought) lead to some great sex with him. Where he would almost take you the moment he sees you, but still pauses, waiting for your response.

So you get planning, sitting Billy down the night before and carefully trying to explain to him what you wanted. You wanted him to use you, fuck you tomorrow even if you say no. To hurt you as much as he wants. To only ever stop if you tell Billy red, or slow down or do something else if you say yellow. That you get off on this kind of thing. You won't get shitfaced tomorrow, just enough that you won't be able to fight back properly.

Billy is vibrating again in his spot on the bed. "You won't... You won't hate Billy? If Billy does to bad things t-t-to you?"

You shake your head and caress his face. "Not when I'm telling you it's fine, and as long as you stop when I say that phrase. You can be as rough and as mean as you want, and I won't get mad at you."

"But- what if Billy doesn't want it? Wh-what if Billy doesn't want to be bad?"

"Then we don't have to. It's just a fantasy babe, I'm not going to force you into anything you don't want. And if you start to get uncomfortable, you can say the same phrases, and we can stop."

Billy nods slowly at first, but ramps up, and suddenly stops to look you in the eyes. "You trust Billy th-that much?"

There's some part of you that wants to say no, you don't Billy is so unpredictable, that there are times you think you're going to wake up to him standing over your bed with a knife. But at the same time there's something that tugs inside you that says otherwise, that as feral as he gets, he would never hurt you. You tuck a lock of stray hair behind his ear, and caress his cheek. "Of course I do Billy."

Billy's cheek go red, but you don't get to see it for that long before he launches himself at you, burying his face in your chest and spilling out gibberish. You catch a "Love you, love you, love you" and a "sweetie pie" which makes your heart skip a beat.

The next day, you've got a nice buzz going for yourself. A nice pleasant warmth in your gut and fuzzy feeling in your head that makes you misjudge how your legs are working just a little bit. You have your wits about you, so you trail behind the girls as they leave, leaning heavily on the doorway to wave them goodbye. Clare had left five or so minutes earlier to head to the police station.

"Bye bye girls! Be safe!" you shout after them, blowing a kiss and giggling when Phyl catches it in her hand and presses it to her chest.

As you stumble your way back into the living room and let yourself fall back onto the armchair, you surmise that maybe, just maybe, you're a little more drunk than you originally thought. Your head spins and pulses when you land, so instead of going to turn the TV on like you were planning, you sink back into the armchair and try to get your wits about you.

You sit around for a good ten minutes trying to get your head to stop swimming, staring up at the ceiling. The bones of the house creak and groan, but you wrap that up to the wind and cold warping it. Claude had hopped up onto your lap some time ago, curling up and nipping at your hand when you don't immediately start petting him.

"You sill fat cat, you're so needy," you tease, stroking his white fur. He chirps briefly, but puts his head back down on your lap and starts purring. It's nice, lulling you towards sleepiness. That was a problem with you when you drank, if you didn't push through the initial drowsy haze, you pass out pretty quickly.

Just as you're about to nod off, someone grabs you by your head and pulls you over the armrest. Claude scatters, and you're thrown heavily to the floor. Above you stands Billy, chest heaving and eyes glued to you. Well, you're wide awake now. He hesitates for only a moment before hauling you to your knees by your.

"P-pretty cunt," his other hand goes to undo his belt and fly. "F-fucking t-tease, you want my f-fucking cock? My f-fat juicy cock shoved into your p-pretty p-p-pink lips, f-fucking your throat."

You try to get away, but the tight grip on your hair makes you wail and tears to spring up. "Get away from me!" you shout, grabbing his wrist and trying to loosen his fingers.

He silces you with a sharp slap across your cheek that makes your teeth clack together and leave bleeding scratches on your face. With his grip on your locks still tight, he drags you across the living room, and throws you onto the couch.

While you're still dazed and reeling from the slap, Billy rips you shirt off and slips his belt free to tie your forearms together. "Tie up the p-piggy bitch, so it can't get away when I f-fuck its holes." He roughly pulls down your jeans halfway down your thighs and just barely runs his fingertips along your bare ass.

"No! Don't fucking touch me!"

It makes Billy's hands stutter for only a moment, but he continues on, and spreads your cheeks. The first swipe of his tongue has you letting out a sharp gasp. He's drooling again and he forces his tongue into you, lapping and making wet, squelching noises.

Billy is like a man starved, trying to get as deep as possible, and digging his nails, drawing more blood, into your ass. Spit and drool dribbles down your perineum, and you really have to fight to not moan. You thrash weakly instead as your sensitivity builds. "Please, stop! I don't want this!"

Again, it makes Billy pause just enough. He pulls himself off of you and wipes his mouth with his sleeve. He slurps on his fingers briefly before slipping them inside your already soaking and dripping, and hurriedly rushes in trying to stretch you. It feels more like a cursory exploration, quickly getting in to press firmly against your prostate, just to see you shiver and moan. He fumbles getting his fly undone, and that's when you take your chance.

You try to toss yourself bodily over the couch, and manage to get down on the floor (bringing Billy with you). You squirm out from under him, and knee him in the gut for good measure before struggling up to your knees.

Where to go, where to go? Outdoors is a no since you can't even get the door open like this, let alone would you be willing to run outside with your dick and ass out. The basement would be the smartest choice.

Billy catches up to you surprisingly fast, skittering to a stop at the foot of the stairs. You give no mind to kicking him in the chest, sending him sprawling back into a table, knocking the vase off.

While he's trying to collect himself, you dart up the stairs to your bedroom. Under the bed is the only place you can hide, so you drop to the floor and slide under.

Your heart is thumping hard against your chest, and it takes all of your power to get control of your breathing when you hear Billy thundering up the stairs and yelling expletives and your name. Your heart feels like it stops when your bedroom door swings open, bouncing off door stop before he slams it close and locks the door. He stands there a moment, turning bodily to look around.

Just when you think he's going to turn around and leave, he crouches down and stares at you with one eerily lit eyes. "Agnes, it's me, Billy," he whispers, grabbing onto you ankles tight enough to hurt. It makes your heart skip from a real palpable fear that Billy has slipped into a manic state. But you've got to trust him, you've got to have that faith.

Instead you squirm and kick, trying to break free of his grip, but you aren't able to, and just keeps pulling until you're out, and his crotch is pressed to your ass. He swings at you once, catching you in the lip. Enough to throw you off and wrap his hands around your throat tightly, and smack your head against the floor. It makes your vision go black, your head to swim, and panic rising up in the back of you throat.

"Yellow," you manage to rasp out.

Billy immediately lets go of you, and stares down at you unblinking, panting, while you coughed and sucked in air. Completely silent, just watching. He only waits until you've just caught your breath before getting up and heaving you onto your bed, face smooshed in the pillows and ass in the air.

Billy doesn't wait for any confirmation, or assurances, or okays, and climbs onto you and thrusts into your. His hips don't need any time to find a pace, and he's pounding into with no care for the sobs coming from you. "F-filthy f-fucking pig, taking my cock, you like it~" Billy teases, fucking into you harder. He squeals and snorts, rambling off.

Neither of you hear the door struggling to be opened downstairs.

"St-stop! It hurts, it hurts!" you cry, tears spilling down your face. Even with Billy having eating you out, the spit isn't much for actual lubrication. "Get off of me!" God it burns, but your thighs are trembling and your cock is rock hard. When Billy amps up, close and chasing his orgasm already, he fucks you as hard as he can, which only makes you cry harder. It suddenly becomes slicker, and you know it's because of your blood.

Billy cums inside you, and with little care pulls out. His cum spills from you, and with much softer and gentler hands, reaches around to stroke your cock, but there’s yelling from downstairs and people running up the stairs. Billy jump out of the bed, quickly doing up his pants while someone tries to kick the door open.

He's out of the window and sprinting into the dark, shadowy corners of the neighborhood before the door finally opens. It has to be a nightmare when Lieutenant Fuller burst through, Clare close behind him.

"Jesus Christ," he lets out in a breath, and Clare gasps when she get in and sees you. "Go wait downstairs," he orders.

"But-"

Lt. Fuller's voice is soft as he directs her out of the room. "Let the man have some dignity." Lt. Fuller turns back to you, and undoes the belt around your arms. It leaves bright red marks where the skin was rubbed raw.

His hands hover on your shoulders while you push yourself up with arm, while the other tries to pull up your pants and hide your erection. Thankfully, Lt. Fuller looks away the moment he notices it, letting you get your pants up all the way and zipped up.

He takes off his coat, and places it on your shoulders. You were shaking, weren't you? you could hardly notice. Oh what a mess. Billy was never going to come back, was he? Fuller grabs a kleenex from your nightstand and wipes at the tears on your cheeks. He stops at you hisses when he wipes the tissue over your injured cheek. "It's going to be okay. We're going to get that creep, and make sure he gets locked up."

You numbly nod, and pull the coat tighter around yourself. You let him lead you out of your room and down the stairs into the kitchen after a distraught looking Clare tells him not the living room, your torn shirt in her hand.

He sits down opposite of you at the kitchen table, while Clare busies herself with making some coffee. Lt. Fuller pulls out a notepad and pen. "Son, I know it hurts to think about, but can you remember anything about what the perpetrator looks like?"

You shake your head, not looking up from the table. Time to put those acting classes to good use. "I-I don't know, it was so dark, and I was so scared. I think he had short, dark hair? Maybe? A-and he was taller than me, I think. His skin kind of looked yellow, but it could've been the light" You accept the cup when Clare passes it to you.

"Is that all?" Fuller asks. "Don't worry if it is, you were under a lot of stress. I'm surprised you remembered anything."

Clare suddenly gasps, pressing a hand to her mouth. "You don't think it was the Moaner? Or," she shudders. "I know you don't want me bringing it up, but could it have been Will?"

"Will? Who's that?" Fuller asks, eyes darting between you and Clare.

"My..." you mutter quietly enough that Fuller asks you to repeat yourself. "My boyfriend," you get out, looking into your coffee cup.

Lt. Fuller nods, scribbling it down on his notepad. "I know it's difficult to change habits, but that was made legal years ago. Legally, there's nothing I can do to you. But even if it was illegal..." You start shaking again, clutching your mug tightly. "Well, I've turned a blind eye more than once. Had a blind eye turned towards me more than once as well. All I need to know is if it could have been him."

You let out a sigh of relief you didn't know you were holding in. "No, it wasn't... It wasn't Will, he's the same height as me, a lot skinnier, and we would never hurt me. He adores me. And the guy he was- he was completely silent. I don't think it was the Moaner."

Fuller nods again, writing it all down. "Would you be willing to go to the hospital?"

"No, I wouldn't."

"Alright, can't force you to do anything. I'll radio the information back, and if you'll let me, I'll station myself outside of your door."

You go to object, but Clare cuts you off. "Oh would you? It's so scary just us in the house alone with the Moaner and another maniac out on the loose."

Lt. Fuller smiles and pats her arm. "Of course, and tomorrow morning I'll have an officer stationed outside of the house. But tonight, he could try come back in, and I wan't to make sure both of you stay safe."

Clare looks so strung up that you don't say anything, and nod along with what he's saying. You drain down the rest of your coffee, and stand up. "I'm gonna go take a shower." You hand Lt. Fuller his coat back, before making him up a cup of coffe and also handing that to him. "I think there's some pastries in the fridge, you can help yourself."

"I'll be up to check on you in a bit."

"Yeah," you say, voice hoarse. As soon as you're out of view, your body deflates. The one night you try doing something different... You can only hope that Billy'll show up eventually. You don't care about how you feel, you're fine, embaressed, exhausted, but Billy... Just thinking about how scared he must be makes your stomach turn.

You stop and stare at yourself in the mirror before getting into the shower. And Christ you're a mess, no wonder Lt. Fuller was so worried. Your eyes are red and raw, tear tracks on your cheeks, one cheek swollen and scabbed from where Billy scratched you. Your lip is busted open and stings when you run your lip over it.

Your shower routine is the same as it normally is, though you are a bit more careful cleaning yourself out. Your fingers and the water stings. It seems like Billy isn't going to be topping for a while. You're sure he'll be devastated. You just want him back in your arms.

Thank fuck your bed doesn't have any cum stains on it when you go to crawl in. Your door doesn't close quite right, thanks to Fuller. The only thing on your bed is a thin sheet, to prepare for what Billy might do to you. The mess he might make. But everything hurts too much for your to care about the chill.

Your bedroom door cracks open, and for a moment you hope it's Billy, before Lt. Fuller walks in with two quilts, and a cold pack in one hand, and a glass of water in the other. He sets down the glass and cold pack on the night stand, before layering the quilts over your shivering body.

"You don't have to." You weakly say as he pulls the quilts up to your chin.

"You're right, I don't." Lt. Fuller grabs the cold pack and presses it to your swollen cheek, making you sigh. He sits down on the bed next to you. "I have a nephew, a few years younger than you. I'm never going to have kids, so he's the closest I got. And... You look a helluva lot like him, you know?"

You let him reach over and stroke your hair.

He watches you for a few moments before getting up. "I'll be out in the hall, alright? Yell if anything happens."

It isn't until a good half hour after Lt. Fuller leaves, you unable to drift into sleep, that you hear a light rapping on your window. When you look over, you see the familiar form of Billy, shadows entirely except for one unsettling eye hoisting himself through the window with less grace than usual. Not that he's ever been anything that could be described as graceful. Usually he comes into your room without warning, but the notice now is nice.

You shuck off the blankets and sit up on the edge of the bed, watching Billy fall to the floor with a loud thump, cursing quietly. He struggles to get up, and while you want to help, you think it's cute, how flustered he is and dusted in snow. You smile and let out a soft giggle as sprawls across the floor instead and huffs.

Until the door bursts open, again, and Lt. Fuller has his gun trained on Billy. And if Billy were in better shape, he would scatter and dive out the window, but he isn't, so he clambers and tries to crawl for you.

You rush to Billy, covering his body. "Don't! It's just Will!" you shout, holding Billy close.

Lt. Fuller lets out an irritated sigh and holsters his gun. "He couldn't have used the front door?"

You help Billy up from the floor, holding him close as he grips onto your shirt and hides his face in your neck. "He uh- We try to be subtle, with all the girls in the house... It just what he does."

He peers at Billy closer, placing a hand on his should which Billy flinches at. You pulls him away. "Will's sensitive, and shy. I told him what happened and he wants to be here with me, even though he knew you would be here."

Fuller looks between the two of you, how you turn your shoulder to him like a barrier, how Billy clutches at you and mutters into your neck. How you stroke his hair, and how tensely Billy's muscles are flexed. "I would have appreciated the warning you were having a visitor."

"I didn't know he was heading over, I would have, otherwise." No, you really wouldn't have. "Can we go to bed now?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Sleep well you two." Halfway towards the door, he pauses. "Will, be good and keep him safe."

Billy says something that sounds like 'yes sir', and Fuller leaves the room, closing the door silently behind him. Billy pulls his face back looking into yours. His eyes are brimming with tears, and his bottom lip is quivering.

You hold his face. "Hey, hey. I'm okay Billy. I'm fine. Lets get you into some pajamas and head to bed, alright?"

Billy nods, and lets you dress him in your oversized pajamas, which still look adorable on him. While changing him (not that he can't do it himself, you just love doing it) you notice his swollen ankle, and how his skin flinches when you touch his left side. You make sure to kiss both softly before dragging him under the cocoon of blankets.

You stroke his face and hair, pressing frequent kisses to his lips. "I love you Billy," you tell him over and over, pressing close to him.

He shivers in your arms, choking down whimpers. "B-bad Billy, stupid idiot. Agnes? Agnes? Where's the f-fucking baby-"

You cut him off with another, longer kiss. When you part, his eyes are still closed. "You're not bad, Billy. You're very good, and kind, and you know I love you. I would never love someone bad, and I still love you." Partially a lie, but you still believe every word.

[shupadoop]

Quarantine (or Confessions under Duress)

@inukag-week Implied smut ahead. Length: roughly 5.5 pages “No, Inuayasha, we can’t go back!”

“Because of some stupid cold? It’s nothing! You see I’m fine!”

“But Sango, and Miroku, and Shippo might not be if we go back. Look, I know it’s hard to take a threat seriously if you can’t sense it, especially since people didn’t know very much about disease in your time, but please believe me it isn’t safe.”

“You said yourself lots of people are recovering. Our friends are strong, they’ll be fine. Let’s go back to hunting Naraku!”

“Sit!”

“Look, our whole view of health is different now. In your time people couldn’t travel very far and they got used to things that were near them. Their bodies and their knowledge developed with what was nearby. Kaede knows how to heal battle wounds, and what herbs are good for which poisons, but in my time people travel across the entire world every day. I have fruit in my kitchen that Kaede will never see in her lifetime. Everywhere around us are tiny things that we eat and breathe. The tiny things in my world are completely different from the ones in yours. You probably haven’t noticed because as a demon you’re strong enough that small changes in your environment won’t affect you, but I bet if you came here on a human night you’d feel different than you do in your time. Lots of people are getting really sick from this disease. Healthy people who are used to living here and now. Whose bodies are used to this environment. If we take this disease back we’d be letting it loose on villagers who have no immunity to anything like it. It could devastate your whole era, Inuyasha!” the thought of causing such a tragedy nearly brought her to tears.

“Okay, okay, don’t cry. We’ll stay here. How long until we can go back?”

“I don’t know. It could be months.”

“MONTHS!?”

———————————————————————

The tension growing between them was exhausting. She understood Inuyasha’s restlessness, but it was getting on her nerves. It wasn’t like she loved being stuck inside all the time, but she was making an effort to use the circumstances as best she could. It was particularly lonely since it was just the two of them. The rest of her family went visiting out of town before she came home and were now trapped in their own right. She longer to see her grandfather, to talk to her mother, to tease Souta. The tense silence between her and Inuyasha was more than she could handle right then.

“Hey, why don’t we watch a movie?”

“A movie? What’s a movie?”

“It’s like a play, but someone recorded it so we could watch it later.

”Inuyasha didn’t reply. She could watch a movie at least, and distract herself for a while. She pressed the first tape she could find into the machine and settled on the couch; determinedly staring at the TV and ignoring Inuyasha’s continuing sulk.

“I was just your typical teenage girl - until my 18th birthday that is, when I discovered I was a witch.”

“A witch!?” In one swift move Inuyasha had drawn his sword and stepped into the glare of the screen.

“Inuyasha, stop! It’s not real; it’s just a story.”

“Bah.”

“Come on, put that away.”

But he was transfixed by the quick-paced colours on the screen. How could somebody draw so realistically? How could they fit so many pictures in that little box?

Kagome put a hand on his shoulder. “Back up, I can’t see.”

Still transfixed Inuyasha sheathed his sword and sat on the couch.The tension Kagome had hoped to ease with the digital distraction greatly intensified when the main character had a steamy birthday makeout session with her crush. When Kagome grabbed a random movie, it hadn’t occurred to her how much worse a ‘90s romcom would make her situation. Naturally, being a teenager, and it being the ‘90s, that was pretty much all she had on hand.

She gazed intently at a bird out the window, carefully avoiding looking at her equally embarrassed companion. But she couldn’t keep her thoughts still.

Look at this girl, living her best life. I’ve never been kissed at all, definitely not like that. If only I was being held like that. If only Inuyasha would hold me like that…

Inuyasha, red as a beet, found himself unable to look away from the graphic scene. His normal defence mechanism in these situations was normally for his mind to blank, but he, like Kagome, felt he was missing something the characters had.The scene ended, and the pair on the couch eventually decided it was safe to look at each other again. As the movie went on they were able to relax and the discomfort from earlier was forgotten. That is until the next bit of romance came on the screen. And this time the characters were undressing.

“What the Hell?! Who would watch something like this!? Is everybody in your time a pervert?!”

Inuyasha thought if this was how people told stories in Kagome’s time, no wonder she liked the feudal era so much.Kagome jumped up, and fumbled for the remotes on the coffee table as she tried to answer.

I haven’t even been kissed. Who knows if I’ll ever do that. At this rate I’ll die alone.

“Well, some people like to imagine themselves in her shoes, I guess. Especially if they don’t have a boyfriend themselves.”

Kyah, when did we get so many remotes!? Where is the fast-forward button? When did the label rub off? Will this scene ever end!?

It was Inuyasha’s turn to avert his gaze. He kept his face turned fully to the blank wall beside him. Beneath his disgusted exterior, in the deepest corner of his mind, he wondered when he would get to do that with someone - with Kagome.

Something smells different.

Inuyasha glanced at Kagome, who had given up on skipping the abrasive scene and had her eyes closed in a long sigh.

She smells different. It’s raw and intense. What is it?

Dawning slowly seeped into him. This movie had aroused something in her. This deepened Inuyasha’s blush.

Kagome resignedly sat back down on the couch, on the middle cushion this time, instead of the far one.“Hey, what are you doing? Why are you getting so close now?”

“What? I wasn’t!”

Kagome jumped a cushion over and Inuyasha immediately regretted saying anything, but his fear of intimacy made him panic when she was so near. Particularly right after that.After the interrogation Kagome’s musky smell started to dissipate and the rest of the movie passed uneventfully, both of the viewers too distracted to really notice what was happening on screen.

“Okay, well, guess it’s bedtime. Good night Inuyasha.”

“Uh - good night.”

When her family was around Kagome preferred Inuyasha to sleep in her room, sitting on the floor by her bed, poised to defend her if something nefarious found its way into her room. But alone, she felt it too scandalous. She changed and crawled into bed, but struggled to sleep.

Well, that definitely made things worse. How can I look him in the eye now? I barely could before that disaster.

Little did she know on the other side of the hall Inuyasha was kept awake by slightly different thoughts.

That moo-vie. She was excited during that moo-vie. All I can think about is her intoxicating smell. If we watched it again would she react the same way?

——————————————————————

The following day Kagome was able to avoid Inuyasha by burying herself in cooking. She wasn’t sure what he was doing upstairs, but she was grateful for the respite. Eventually Inuyasha came down when she called him for lunch.

“Hey, so I thought we could watch another movie. But don’t worry, I found one that’s all about samurai fighting. No romance at all.”

He determinedly stared at the bowl of ramen Kagome had placed in front of him as he answered “that’s okay. We could watch a moo-vie like yesterday’s. We see plenty of real-life fighting anyway.”

“Oh. Uh… okay.”

After lunch Kagome put on another romcom.

I wonder what’s with Inuyasha. I know he has a soft side, but I’ve never seen him ask for an emotional moment before.

Occasionally Inuyasha would glance at Kagome, particularly during romantic scenes, but he never noticed more than small blush. How disappointing.

If we keep watching movies surely another one will excite her. Maybe iI’ll be luckier next time.

Nope.

The time after.

Nuh-uh.

Come on, this time?

No.

“Inuyasha, we’ve run out of movies.”

Maybe it wasn’t the TYPE of movie Kagome liked, but that specific movie.

“That’s okay, Kagome, we can watch the first one again.”

“Oh, uh, sure.”

When the got to the sex scene that had flustered them so badly before, Inuyasha stared intently at Kagome, holding in too much anticipation to even try to hide it this time.

“Well, Kagome?”

“Well, what?”

Inuyasha faltered “never mind” and went back to staring at the screen, thoroughly annoyed.

“I’m pretty surprised you wanted to watch this, twice even. I didn’t think you’d like it.”

“Of course I don’t, I’ve been sitting here watching these boring movies and you aren’t excited by anything!”

“Ex…cited?”

Shit. Why did I say that?

“Inuyasha? Why did you want to watch these with me?”

“The first time we watched this part… you…. uh…. you smelled different. Good different.”

“Excited different?” she joked. But when he cautiously nodded understanding hit her and she hid her face in her hands so Inuyasha wouldn’t see the sheer terror spreading across it.

He can smell that!? He knows when I’m… excited!? He must have known I was thinking about him! Or what if he didn’t and he’s jealous of imaginary guy? … Wait, he’s been watching movies with me just so…

Resolutely she straightened herself and looked Inuyasha in the eye. They looked at each other in silence and then -

“Kagome…” that smell.

She moved closer.

“Inuyasha, why have we been watching all these movies?”

“So I could smell you like this again.”

“Like what?”

“…Aroused.” he said in a tiny voice. But he gained some confidence when Kagome inched closer. “I want to be the one you’re aroused for. I love you, Kagome.”

“I love you too, Inuyasha.”

That night they stopped sleeping in separate bedrooms.

[artificialqueens]

A Vampire in Paris: Part 3 (Gigi/Crystal) - Chae

A/N: well this took ten times longer than i expected… so sorry for the wait! (was anyone waiting? idk) hopefully I can update this at LEAST once a week for now ee. anyway thank you all so much for the support on the first two chapters, i’m so glad people enjoy my wacky fashion-vampire fantasy

Summary:  Gigi has an… interesting encounter with the supermodel trio and makes some big changes with Crystal

—-

Well, this was a situation.

Gigi broke out into a slight sweat as Aquaria, Naomi, and Valentina peered right into her soul at the cafe. She smiled awkwardly as she took a sip of water, seemingly the only one who actually drank… or ate. And she was eating a salad! In Paris! What the fuck were they looking at her like that for?!

The youngest model was still tired from the previous night, trying to push down her discomfort with happy thoughts of kissing Crystal. The ginger had tried desperately to look her best for her lunch date with the supermodels, shocked that they still didn’t seem impressed. After a long bout of silence as the three older girls eyed Gigi eating, Valentina piped up across from her.

“Gigi… what’s that short for?”

The aforementioned girl swallowed a lettuce leaf. “Genevieve. Genevieve Regina Goode.”

“That sounds like a movie character,” the tan beauty laughed. “I like your name.”

“Thanks. How did you get Valentina?”

“What do you mean? That’s just my name.”

“Oh,” Gigi cringed internally.”What’s your last name?”

“Hm, it’s been so long I don’t remember,” the girl smiled dopily as Aquaria slapped her arm next to her, annoyed. Gigi raised an eyebrow and Aquaria smiled fakely.

“We don’t really use our last names, except for Naomi because hers is easy,” the blonde said through her teeth, glaring at Valentina. The latter looked, confused, between Gigi and Aquaria. From next to her, Gigi could sense Naomi giving Valentina a look as well. 

“Oh!” She finally said, her face contorting into realization. “Yeah, we don’t use them,” the latina nodded. 

Gigi looked down, feeling as if she’d stumbled onto something she shouldn’t have—which was exactly what she wanted. Maybe she should press further…

“Why haven’t you guys eaten? These salads have a lot of good vitamins and stuff. I know we’re pressured into being like a size-negative-ten but what you ordere-”

“We already ate,” Naomi interrupted. “And if you feel self-conscious, sweets, don’t. Salads are good for you.”

“And you won’t have to worry about it much longer,” Valentina added earnestly. However, her kind… sentiment (?)… was not appreciated by the other two.

“Oh my god, shut up!” Aquaria whacked her on the back of the head. “You wanna get fired or something?!”

“I’m sorry guys,” Gigi tried to stop the drama. “I didn’t mean to intrude on whatever is happening-”

“No, no no! It’s not your fault,” Naomi explained, placing a freezing cold hand on Gigi’s shoulder. “It’s just that Valentina…”

“Valentina doesn’t know what she’s talking about, doll,” Aquaria smiled.

“Guuuuys I’m sorry!” Valentina whined. “I just keep forgetting she’s not a va-”

“Member of our team!” Aquaria shouted. “She’s not a member of our team,” the Italian jerked her head to the side, leaning towards Valentina and whispering something in her ear. The brunette’s eyebrows curved upwards as she whispered frantic sorries to her friend, who appeared absolutely venomous. Naomi rolled her eyes.

“We should head out and do some shopping, no? Maybe Val will be distracted by all the shiny things,” Naomi got up, rifling through her small purse for cash. Gigi nodded, just wanting to get out of this situation as soon as she could.

Soon enough, they were browsing at a beauty store—and yes, Valentina was distracted by the sparkly eyeshadows (go figure). Gigi wandered away from her ‘friends’ to the hair section, nearly passing by the dyes before a thought popped into her head. She grabbed two boxes of color and a toner off the shelf and smiled, paying for her items before finding the rest of the group. 

“Bought stuff already?” Aquaria looked at Gigi’s bag quizzically.

“It’s not makeup or anything, just had to restock,” the redhead lied.

“Oh, nice,” the blonde turned back to the lipstick she was trying on. Gigi filled the silent air by perusing the makeup counters, trying to not look too interested.

Naomi was texting someone with a coy smile plastered on her face, causing Gigi to remember something else odd she hadn’t addressed yet. 

“Aquaria?” She asked.

“Hm?”

“How did you get my number? I never found out.”

“Right. I asked Adore.”

“Adore doesn’t have my number…”

“Adore has everyone’s number,” she snapped, clearly looking annoyed. Gigi shrunk back and bit her lip. “The bitch has her ways,” Aquaria added.

“Can’t Fame access everyone’s data n’ stuff?” Valentina said offhandedly.

“What? Fame? Like Miss Fame?”

“Valentina, I’m going to rip your head off and smash it with my stiletto,” Aquaria threatened. 

“I thought Fame was… dead?” Gigi pressed.

“She is.”

“She is.”

Both Naomi and Aquaria looked the new model dead in the eyes, not a hint of intonation in their voices. Valentina, once again, looked at them confusedly, but held her tongue. Gigi felt the same glare that Raven had pierce her soul once again, and decided that enough was enough of these creeps. She stole away into the next aisle and ordered an Uber to pick her up ASAP. She peeked over the display and told the girls she was going to the bathroom, to which they nodded in unison without leaving their tasks. On that note, Gigi slinked out of the store and as far down the street as her heeled feet would take her.

She texted Crystal as she waited for the Uber, impatiently tapping her foot on the concrete ground.

Sexy Robot🥵🤖

heyyy, wanna meet up at your place? i have a surprise 

Hot Clown🤡🔥

DUH OMG u know I can’t wait 

when are u comin?

Sexy Robot🥵🤖

I’ll be there in like 20 mins 

Hot Clown🤡🔥

I can’t wait to see u🥺🥺🥺

Sexy Robot🥵🤖

keep your panties on, boss

Hot Clown🤡🔥

Don’t ever call me boss again you whore 

Sexy Robot🥵🤖

only for u ;)

Gigi smiled as her Uber finally arrived, excited to talk to Crystal after what happened the night prior. She’d not only had a steamy makeout session with a hot designer, she’d kissed the girl she liked when they were both semi-sober-ish. Her happiness was short-lived, though, when she received a text from Aquaria on a group chat she’d been added to. She exhaled nervously as she shut the car door, telling the driver where to go.

Hottest Hoes in Paris⭐️⭐️

Aquafina

Has anyone seen Gigi?

You’ve been in the bathroom an awful long time bitch

French Vanilla Fantasy

no :(

did she leave?!

GIGI WHERE ARE YOU

Bebe Badde

aaaa sorry guys I wasn’t feeling well!

LegsLegsLegsLegs

Awe babe you should have told us

Feel well soon

French Vanilla Fantasy

i send all my love to you!! 💛💘💚💘❤️💝💚💞💓❤️💘

Aquafina

Ya feel better!

Gigi sighed, having successfully escaped the strangest outing she’d ever been on. The drive to Fatelle was shorter than she’d expected, the model barely realizing she had reached her destination before paying the driver and nearly leaping out of the car. She sped into the lobby, saying hi to Adore before bounding to the elevator. She was almost giddy at the prospect of seeing Crystal again, unfamiliar with having a crush this strong. Gigi felt like she and Crystal fit together like puzzle pieces: anything she didn’t have, the designer did, and vice versa. But they still came together in the same picture, with the same values and dreams and—gosh, they were a match made in heaven.

Gigi gripped the shopping bag as she reached Crystals floor, finding her room (Crystal had texted her where she lived a few days prior) and knocking on the door. It opened almost immediately to a grinning Crystal, dressed in cute casual clothes and fluffy ugg slippers.

“What’s the surprise?” She said right away, letting the younger girl inside.

“First of all, hi,” Gigi rolled her eyes, giving the shorter girl a quick peck on the cheek. “Second of all, you’ll see. Third of all — you will not believe the day I’ve had.”

“Dang, it’s two PM!”

“And shits wild!”

“Spill.” Crystal plopped on the couch, motioning for Gigi to join her. The ginger kicked her shoes off and made herself comfortable, propping her tired legs on the coffee table. 

“So I met up with Aquaria and Naomi and Valentina…”

“No way!”

“Yes, Aqua invited me. And it was insane.”

“How?”

“Would you believe me if I told you that I think Fatelle is the Illuminati?”

“Honestly, with some of the shit that’s been going on…”

“Right?! Okay, they literally kept saying Miss Fame might be alive?”

“She’s alive in my heart, but… it’s been a whole century.”

“And they acted like it was real! And then Valentina said that I wouldn’t have to eat soon?“

“What? Why?”

“Like I wouldn’t physically need to eat.”

“That’s fucking weird.”

“It was the strangest thing. Am I in the Twilight Zone?”

“Maybe you’re in the Twilight! Edward or Jacob?”

“Edward.”

“Good choice. Edward.”

The two shared a chuckle, Crystal’s eyes flitting to the bag Gigi had brought.

“Is that the surprise?”

Gigi smirked, getting up and pulling out a box of bleach, purple toner, and a box of natural red dye. “Don’t think I didn’t remember what you said!”

“No! Oh my gosh you’re the best!” Crystal grabbed her dye and grinned widely, eyes crinkled in a cute way. “We have to do this now.”

“Raven’s gonna be pisssssed,” Gigi remembered, not really caring anyway.

“Raven is basically Edward’s cousin, who cares?”

“Oh shit she is like Edwards’ cousin! Bitch looks all pale and dark haired and ooky and spooky.”

“My mind.”

“Your mind.”

The two made their way to the bathroom, opening their goodies and setting up to do each other’s hair. Crystal wrapped a towel around Gigi’s shoulders, knowing her process would be much more time consuming.

“Have you done hair before?” The model asked as Crystal mixed up the bleach.

“For sure, I dyed my hair back to brown so I could look professional when I came here,” she laughed. “I had neon green before, remember?”

“Right!” 

Gigi couldn’t say she wasn’t nervous when Crystal began applying the dye to the ends of her hair, but trusted the designers judgement and vision. It was her fashion show, after all. The older girl worked quickly, yet thoroughly. She was used to working with her difficult curly hair, so it was easy for her to comb through Gigi’s nearly-straight locks. Strand by strand, she painted the bleach on with her gloved hands, unaware that her work was nearly causing Gigi to fall asleep at the calming feeling of her hair being lightly tugged. She model nearly dozed off when Crystal started massaging her scalp to make sure the roots were coated. Finally, Crystal was happy with her work, snapping Gigi back into reality when she placed a shower cap over the models head.

“Sleepyhead, you’ve gotta do my hair now,” Crystal discarded her latex gloves, brushing the back of her hand against Gigi’s cheek. “In half an hour you gotta take a shower with the toner, and then when you’re done, I take a shower and then we both have new hair!”

“I have a suggestion,” Gigi yawned. “Why don’t you keep giving me a head massage and I go to bed?”

“If you want your hair to fall out, sure.”

Gigi rolled her eyes, getting up to open the red box dye. She took out the components, following directions to mix the bottles together and shake it up. Apprehensively, she started squeezing the fluid all over Crystal’s hair and running it through the coils. “Is this right?”

“Just make sure every strand is coated, but yeah!” she smiled at Gigi through the mirror, and Gigi smirked back.

“So, do we need to talk about last night at all?” the model asked as she worked.

“Do you think we need to?”

“I mean, if we’re on the same page, no.”

“Are we?”

“What’s the definition of the same page, then?”

“Um… I liked kissing you?”

“Good, then we’re definitely on the same page,” Gigi blushed. She looked in the mirror for a second and laughed. “I look like a lunch lady!”

“Shush, you look pretty no matter what.”

“Says you, Crystalline Elizabeth.”

“Says the model, Genevieve Regina!”

“Oh. Well.”

“You bitch! You’re supposed to tell me how great I am.”

“Crystal Methyd, you are perfect.”

“I know I am.”

“Who’s the bitch now, bitch?”

This went on as Gigi finished applying the color to Crystal’s hair, placing her own cap over the voluminous mass of hair. Crystal checked the time. “You should go take a shower, Gi. And make sure to leave that toner on for ten minutes!”

“Got it,” she replied as Crystal exited the luxury bathroom into the bedroom. 

“I’ll leave you out some comfy clothes, hm?”

“What, you wanna cuddle and watch movies with me later?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“Thank god. I’ll see you soon,” Gigi leaned in for another quick peck on the cheek, a new habit she’d grown quite fond of. She shut the door and turned on the tap, waiting for the water to warm up before undressing and stepping inside.

Gigi was tired, but the steam against her skin helped balance her energy once again. She removed the shower cap, eyes widening at how light her hair was. She was used to her red hair turning almost-black when wet, but it was now a dirty brown color under the water. The dry strands were a nearly-white yellow. This will take some adjusting to, she thought as she quirted a glob of toner in her hands. She worked it through her hair for a couple minutes, careful to get every last bit. The next ten minutes were spent trying to keep her head out of the shower whilst keeping her body in, which was a difficult task that often left Gigi shivering without the warmth of the water on her body, only to put her arm or leg back in.

The model stepped out of the glass shower into the bathroom that was nearly identical to her own. She wiped the fog away from the mirror and stood, as she did, scanning her body. She was healthy, but extraordinarily petite. Many her size would have bones jutting out, maybe even appearing emaciated, but not Gigi. Her figure was all smooth lines and gentle curves. She had a waist and hips, but they certainly weren’t defined. Her breasts followed the outer curves of her chest, small and close together. She was a model. She looked like a model.

Gigi grabbed a towel once she noticed the goosebumps on her arms, using it to dry off and then wrapping it around herself. She decided to use the hairdryer as well, since apart from her hair taking forever to dry on its own, she wanted to see what it looked like now. As her locks returned to their normal state, Gigi could see that Crystal did a near-perfect job. Her hair was evenly colored a light-barbie-doll blonde all around — not too yellow, not too silver. She certainly looked like a barbie doll. She felt like one.

The girl exited the bathroom into the attached bedroom, calling out to Crystal that she was done. She found a set of satin pajama shorts and a shirt, surprised that the designer owned something so fancy. She changed quickly, feeling more than comfortable in this outfit.

As Crystal took her time in the bathroom, Gigi grew… bored. She felt lonely scrolling through Instagram all by herself, so she shut off her phone and sank back into the couch. Her eyes flickered from the ceiling, to the window, to the TV, and finally, to the bedroom entryway. Gigi wasn’t really the mischievous type, but hey, when in Paris. She smirked as she got up, starting by looking through Crystal’s dresser. Nothing of importance, really: just makeup, underwear (oh hey, those were garters… she wondered what those would look like on Crystal…), stacks and stacks of jewelry. So the model opted to look through the closet, a favorite activity of hers. Crystal’s wardrobe nearly burned Gigi’s eyes out when she first opened the doors. Colors and patterns everywhere, unorganized platform shoes falling over the floor. It was so bad, it was beautiful. Gigi began with the shoes, definitely wanting to steal some of them for herself.

As she got lost in Crystal’s fashion tastes, she failed to hear the shower shutting off and Crystal entering the bedroom, the newly-ginger letting out a yelp as she realized Gigi was there. The younger girl whipped around to see Crystal attempting to cover herself up with her hands, flustered beyond belief at the fact that she was…

butt naked.

[certifiedmoth]

Please Say Yes

Single Dad!Duncan x Fem!Reader

Summary: Duncan wants to propose to Y/N, but his son ruins the surprise.

Notes: Okay, I wrote this really fast and it probably isn’t the best thing ever, but my heart was literally going AWWW the whole time I wrote this, so enjoy!! (single dad!duncan owns me, y’all) gif credit to @spellman

Warnings: None, just fluff

Word Count: 3.2K

___

“Do you understand, bub?”

The four-year-old sitting on Duncan’s lap scrunched up his face playfully while nodding his head enthusiastically.

“We can’t tell mama!”

“Mhm, yes. And why can’t we tell mama?” Duncan bobbed his leg up and down, sending his son into a fit of giggles.

“Because marrying mama is a secret, shhh,” he held his tiny finger up to his mouth and spoke in a whisper, making sure to be as quiet as his little voice would let him.

“Well, asking her to marry daddy is a secret. Mama can’t know at all, it’s a surprise, okay?” He looked his son right in his eyes, hoping he was listening carefully to what he was telling him. “Mama’s going to be really, really happy, as long as it’s a surprise and we don’t tell her before the right time, okay?”

“When’s the right time? Right now?” His son’s big, blue eyes went wide with curiosity.

Duncan let out a soft chuckle, “Well, not right now, bub. Daddy will know the right time; you don’t need to worry about that.” He kissed the top of his son’s hair, holding him close to his chest and savoring this blissful moment. “Just don’t tell mommy.”

~

You and Duncan had been together for three happy years now; something of a record for Mr. Shepherd. He had known from the very first moment he laid his eyes on you that you were meant to be in his life. Stolen glances at work led to steamy makeout sessions in his office which, then, (miraculously, he thought) led to a first date. Duncan had always known how special you were, but it was then, on that first date, as he stared at you smiling from across the table, illuminated by the soft moonlight and laughing at your own joke, that he truly realized that he selfishly wanted you all to himself and that he’d do everything in his power to make that a reality.

A year prior to meeting Y/N, Duncan had experienced one of the worst pains of his life when the mother of his son took off and left. They hadn’t been together long and the pregnancy was a complete surprise, but he had sworn right then and there, as he looked down at the positive pregnancy test, that he would be the best father to his child and the most supportive and loving partner to his girlfriend the world had ever seen. But she had other plans for her life, it seemed; she left shortly after the birth, leaving behind a heartbroken Duncan to solely take care of their child.

Even with the amazing gift that his son was, he truly believed that he would always be alone; destined to share this life with nobody but himself. But then you came along, and flipped a light switch on, suddenly changing his whole outlook on everything and bringing an immense amount of love and light into him and his son’s life that he had never imagined possible. You brightened everything for him.

From a cocky bachelor to a single dad, cherishing domesticity with his son and the love of his life, Duncan often reminisced on how he had gotten here in life. He couldn’t help but wonder what he had done to deserve a life as amazing and meaningful as this one; it was something he would always cherish. He had his family – His family. His to hold and love. His to keep him warm at night and comfort him when troubled thoughts filled his head. You and his son were all he needed in his life. And all that was left to do was ask you to be his forever.

~

- Two weeks later -

The bubbly boy sitting next to you focused intently on the drawing before him, while he excitedly rambled on and on about the dog he had seen that morning.

“He tried to lick my nose,” he scrunched up his small nose as his addictive giggles filled the air; turning to you, he mimicked the dog with his tongue sticking out and continued laughing without a care in the world. Always such an expressive one, you thought, as you felt the corners of your own mouth lifting while you stared at the lively boy beside you.

“Why don’t you draw the doggie in your picture?” You smiled back at him, moving some of the loose strands of hair out of his face. He had his father’s hair and it soothed you to see so much of Duncan in him.

“No!” he yelled defiantly while a great, big smile appeared on his face as he got up and started dancing (or at least, what a toddler’s definition of dancing was). Okay… you knew what was going on here. He was clearly in one of his “silly moods”; something Duncan liked to call his random outbursts of excitement and giggling. He twirled around the room, singing and laughing as if he were the happiest person alive, before running back to you and plopping down on the ground next to you and his coloring station.

“Somebody’s being silly,” you scrunched up your nose at him, watching him as he dramatically laughed and got back to coloring his picture. “But bub, I have a question,” you frowned, exaggerating your sad tone. “Why no doggie?” you fake cried, hoping to bring even more laughter out of him.

“Because we don’t have one, you silly!!” He yelled, finding the whole situation quite hilarious. “This is our family,” he pointed to the picture. “And we don’t have a doggie, so he can’t go in here.”

“Oh, okay. I understand,” you nodded, enjoying the seriousness and accuracy he put into his art. Peeking over his head to see the masterpiece itself, you found a tall figure that must have been Duncan since a (very large) cellphone was placed in his hand. You silently made a note to tell Duncan about it later; you were sure he would think it was adorable funny. Then, there was your little one right in the middle with a big, gigantic smile plastered on his face; that part seemed quite accurate. Your eyes continued scanning the page, landing on the figure that must have been you, but you were wearing a long, white dress with something covering your face; a very odd sight that caused you to tilt your head in confusion, trying to understand what you were looking at. It was honestly very sweet and endearing, but also suspicious, to say the least.

“Hey bub, why am I wearing that?” you pointed to the cartoon version of yourself.

“Because that’s what people wear when they get married,” he replied softly and casually while focusing on coloring in the grass expertly.

Your heart stopped for a split second as you heard him speak those words so nonchalantly. Had Duncan said something to him? Or perhaps, maybe his preschool teacher had taught them about what a wedding was and he simply was a curious and intrigued child? It must be the latter, you thought. He must have seen a wedding in one of his cartoons, or saw it in a book.

You tried to rid your brain of dangerous, exciting thoughts and calm yourself of the possibility of something bigger taking place right now, but failed horribly after several minutes of a very anxious internal dialogue with yourself.

“Bub, why am I wearing it, though?”  you spoke up suddenly, the confusing thoughts in your head still running rampant as your heartbeat raced.

“Because daddy said he’s gonna marry you, so you have to wear white!! Daddy read this book to me and the girl in it got married and she wore white, so you have to wear white, silly.”

Your eyes went wide and it was as if the air had been knocked right out of your lungs; you were sure you would have looked paralyzed if anyone had walked in at that exact moment. You had thought of the possibility of Duncan proposing one day; you both had talked about it casually before, but you didn’t know that he was actually planning to ask you to be his wife.

You were shocked, confused, beyond ecstatic… You felt so many different things, all completely at the same time, and you didn’t exactly know how to process everything you were feeling; this was foreign territory. Your head swirled and buzzed while the little boy next to you sat unbothered by the bombshell he had just dropped, mindlessly coloring the sky a light blue color on the paper in font of him.

“When did daddy say all of this?”

His little head turned to you, about to answer your question with an excited smile on his face, when he suddenly remembered the day his dad had sat him on his lap and told him his great, big secret plan. But he had told him not to tell you. That’s what he had said: To not tell mama. That only daddy could tell her and only when it was the right time. This was not the right time. And daddy wasn’t even here. Slowly, his smile turned to a frown and glossy tears began to prick the corners of his bright blue eyes.

“Oh no, baby, what’s going on?” Your voice was laced with concern as you watched his face contort with sadness. In this moment, you forgot about the picture. You forgot about what he was about to say. You forgot about any future proposal. You only cared about why your sweet boy had become so incredibly distraught. His cheeks grew warm and he suddenly started wailing as tears began to flow freely down his face, his poor lungs struggling to draw in air from crying so hard.

The door to the home office slammed open and Duncan came running out, his eyes wide with worry and concern as he noticed you in the middle of the floor, cradling his little boy. “What happened?”

“I don’t know, he just started crying,” your looked up at Duncan hopelessly while you held your little one to your chest, rocking him back and forth and trying your best to comfort him and ease him of whatever pain he was feeling. It was just as painful for you as it was for Duncan to see him so uncontrollably distraught. You’d do anything to make him feel better, no matter the cost. And Duncan was right there with you; he’d do anything to protect his son from this world. Which is why it was so hard to see him like this right now. A very worried Duncan kneeled next to you and started gently stroking his son’s back in a calm and soothing manner.

“Bub, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Duncan whispered in his ear, hoping to god something wasn’t causing him physical pain.

Your little one hesitantly lifted his head from your chest and looked up at his dad with tears running down his red face, trying to speak but all that came out were more choked sobs. “I- I ruined the surprise,” you almost didn’t catch his timid voice amidst the strangled sobs. Duncan’s face twisted in confusion, not sure what his poor child was talking about.

“Bub, what surprise?” Duncan asked softly while continuing to rub his son’s back. You held him in your arms, swaying him back and forth and he finally started to calm down a bit. He sniffled and played with your hair, focusing on trying to tell his dad what he meant.

“Dada, I said you were gonna marry mama,” he let out another small sob, feeling overwhelmed with the whole situation. He was afraid Duncan would be mad at him and that he’d be in trouble for telling you, but most of all, he was just unbearably sad for letting down his dad.

Duncan’s breath hitched in his throat as he heard his son’s confession; his eyes instantly flickered to yours, which were already staring at him, wide and bright with curious wonder. There was so much vulnerability in his blue eyes; you’d never seen him like that before. It was almost startling to look at the love of your life and see a different side to him, one you’d never caught a glimpse of before. He had never felt so exposed and caught off guard in all his life; tears had started to prick the corners of his own eyes. It was beautiful and painful to watch, you thought.

This wasn’t how he had planned it. This wasn’t at all how he had planned it. He was going to wait for the perfect moment... The perfect dinner with a perfect bottle of champagne, under the same moonlight he had fallen in love with you, only to then, get down on one knee, take your hand in his, and ask you to be his and only his forever. Truth be told, that moment had come and gone. Or, at least half of it. He had taken you out to dinner the week before, but he had never gotten down on one knee and he had never asked you that one question that had been dancing across his mind every second of every day since he had finally decided to propose. Deep down, he was terrified. Terrified that you would reject him and he’d lose you forever. A part of him still felt he didn’t deserve you and that one day, you’d realize it.

But now, everything was out in the open. His wants, his feelings, his plans for the future: All of it. He was exposed. Duncan had no wall to hide behind now; his son had torn it down for him.

“Baby, there’s no need to cry. You didn’t ruin anything,” your soft voice spoke to the little boy cradled in your arms, snapping Duncan out of his anxious thoughts. “It’s okay, baby. Daddy isn’t upset with you and mommy isn’t either. We love you so, so, so very much, okay?” You pulled back to look him in his tear-filled eyes. “It’s okay, my love,” you gave him a genuine smile, rubbing his back with small circles.

He was comforted by your words and nestled his head against your neck, feeling the worry start to leave his tiny body. Only small sniffles could be heard now as his eyes started to get heavy with sleep. You continued gently stroking his back as you helped to softly lull him to sleep.

“Plus, mommy wants to marry daddy, too.”

Duncan’s head snapped up, locking his wide eyes with yours as an incredulous look overcame his features. Had he heard you correctly? Had you really meant what you had just whispered? He’d never felt his heart beat this fast in all his life; it felt as though it was about to explode right out of his chest.

“She does?” Duncan spoke quietly and carefully, as you both realized the sweet boy in your arms was now fast asleep from wearing himself out so suddenly with his tears.

You nodded your head, looking at him with every single ounce of love and adoration you had felt for him the past three years of your beautiful relationship. He inched his way closer to you, closing the distance between yourselves while being careful not to wake his son.

He leaned in to place a feather light kiss to your lips, “You know, I had something planned…”

“Is that so?” you smiled against his lips, the small burn of his stubble rubbing against your skin and the warm scent of his cologne mixing to remind you of home.

“Mhm, but I guess this will have to do,” his voice was soft and playful as he reluctantly pulled away from you, reached into his pocket and retrieved a small plush box. You let out a sudden breath, you hadn’t known you’d been holding in, and felt tears begin to spill over your cheeks.

Duncan adjusted himself so he was on one knee and slowly opened the small box in his hands, revealing the most dazzling diamond ring you had ever seen; he had picked it because the sparkle it gave off was reminiscent of your beauty in the moonlight. He looked at you adoringly through crystal, blue eyes, letting a content sigh fall from his lips as he stared at his entire world right in front of him.

“I am so completely and insanely in love with you, Y/N,” he smiled softly as he whispered to you. “I cherish this life we’ve built together, and I can never thank you enough for being there for our son. You’re the best mother this world has ever had and the best partner I could ever ask for. Some days I wake up and I still can’t believe that you’re in my life,” he laughed lightly as his voice began to break; his own tears threatening to spill over now. “You came into my life and made every aspect of it better and, now, I only ask that you allow me the opportunity to do the same for you.”

You held your hand over your mouth to stifle your cries as you peered, through teary eyes, at the love of your life.

With one last exhale and smile, Duncan looked up at you and whispered, “Will you marry me?”

You let out a squeaking noise and nodded frantically while tears fell down your cheeks. “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you!” you tried your best to keep your voice quiet, so as not to disturb the sleeping child in your arms, but you were too overcome with excitement and love for this man.

Duncan’s face lit up and he gave you the brightest smile you had ever seen as he quickly enveloped you in his arms, placing gentle kisses to your face. You could feel his own tears on his cheeks now as he kissed you tenderly. You’d never felt so happy in all your life. This truly was all you needed: Duncan and your son. Your family.

He placed one last passionate kiss to your lips, deepening it while your hand ran through his soft hair. Reluctantly, he pulled away once again, brushing his lips against yours. “What do you say we put little bub down for his nap and then we go and celebrate in our own special way?”

You smiled against his lips, wanting nothing more than to show him just how much love you had for him. “Sounds good to me,” you whispered, placing one more kiss to his lips before feeling Duncan’s hand hold onto yours gently, pulling you up and leading you to the beginning of a new life.

Taglist: @xavierplympton, @lathraios, @no-need-for-rules, @ladynuwanda, @katiekitty261, @sojournmichael, @rosegoldrichie, @langdonsdemon, @hecohansen31, @blakewaterxx, @wroteclassicaly, @michaelsapostle, @kleineshaschen, @whydonthumansfly, @solitalangdon, @fckinsupreme, @olobersy, @femaleantichrist, @peachesandfern, @freak-war-hour, @tigers-pat, @gremlinkween, @donutt-fuck-with-me, @avesxtxnas, @lonely-cloud, @angelbabyscum, @langdondelrey

[billyhargrovesbabe]

grounded | billy hargrove

Long-time no see! To make up for my time away, I have this little baby for ya. It’s longer than my other posts, but I definitely think it’s worth it of course, I could be a bit biased. All joking aside, I hope you guys enjoy! It starts with a little bit of a onesided crush from the reader on Steve, but don’t worry. Our favorite guy (who just looks so deliciously badass in this gif) is the main focus. Remember folks: consent is key, and it’s never the victim’s fault. Never.

Word Count: 4,653

Warnings: Dissociation, sexual assault, mentions of abuse, swearing, victim-blaming (self-blaming), panic attack, and I think that about covers it?

There were times where you didn’t quite feel like your world was real. It wasn’t like you were delusional. You just sort of... floated sometimes. Like you were there, and you were living your life, but it was through this misty haze that separated your consciousness from your body. You didn’t really know how to explain it, honestly. And it’s not like you could predict it or control it. Sometimes it would just last a few minutes. Sometimes it would go on for a week or two.

The first time it happened was at a party. You had gone with Carol and Nicole, your two best friends, with the promise that a certain pretty-haired boy would be there. At the time, you had a major crush on Steve Harrington. He was one of your close friends, and you were convinced you were in love with him. And Carol and Nicole used that little fact to drag you to the party— nevermind that he had recently been rumored to have started dating a certain Nancy Wheeler. When your constant efforts to flirt with him went unnoticed (or worse, laughed off), you decided to try and make him jealous. You approached a senior boy who had been eyeing you all night. One who was well-known for being sighed over in the cafeteria. One Carol and Nicole had checked out before, despite Tommy sometimes sitting right next to the former when it happened. You figured a little kissing wouldn’t hurt. You hadn’t kept track of how much alcohol you were drinking, and he talked you into another few shots. Before you knew it, you were drunk. Not drunk enough to go into a back bedroom with him, but definitely drunk enough for him to get more than a little handsy with you.

It was all fun and games until he started trying to grab your chest. You batted his hands away a few times before he started to get frustrated. You remember what he said. Sometimes, late at night when you can’t fall asleep, you still hear his rasp of “quit being such a fucking tease, it’s just your tits” brush across your ear and send chills down your neck. You stopped pushing his hands away after that. You thought maybe, just maybe, if you let him try then Steve would see you were open to fooling around. Maybe he’d look at you if he thought you were as fun as Carol or Nicole. You glanced over the nameless senior boy’s shoulder, searching for him. You saw him across the room, laughing with Tommy and Carol. Nicole excitedly pointed you out to the three of them, and your heart broke as you saw him raise his glass towards you. Egging you on. Not caring another boy was feeling you up for all to see.

It was then that hazy state washed over you for the first time, leaving you with this surreal sense of being that made you feel simultaneously detached from your body and more connected to it than you had ever been before. You barely registered his hands brushing across your body, touching you where no other guy had ventured before. Violating you. He felt up your chest, squeezed and groped your ass, and had just finished working his way to the apex of your thighs before you finally managed to feign a sudden wave of drunkenness that had you on the floor and finally safe from his greedy hands. You were left in that floaty, surreal headspace until Nicole called you the next afternoon. You finally learned his name. Allard Collins. She demanded to know everything that had happened between the two of you. She was disappointed to find out it hadn’t progressed much further than what she saw. You realized she thought you were lying when both she and Carol cornered you, asking you about it on Monday before class.

You felt the haze wash over you again as they tried to dig more information out of you. They kept bringing it up, giggling and talking about what a snag he was and “great catch” and “better give it to him again quick if you want him to stick around.” It wasn’t until Friday, when they heard he had gone home with another girl from the party a week before, that they believed you. But by that point, the damage was done. You had been in that floaty headspace all week, and you weren’t sure you were ever going to come back down to earth again.

You slowly stopped hanging out with them, and slowly the floating stopped. You found some new friends, started to get close to Nancy and Barb, and began separating yourself more and more from the incident. You ignored the voice in your head that hissed it’s your fault and you deserved it. You got over your infatuation with Steve, swearing men in general off after a while. You’d still find yourself in that floaty space every once in a while, but you learned to manage it. You could still function just fine and go about your daily business. You just weren’t... connected. But that was okay. Honestly, sometimes it was nice.

Every time, you were aware it was happening. And there was some small voice that told you it was bad and wrong and shouldn’t feel as... peaceful as it did. But you never had to feel anything when you were there. You didn’t have to feel the pain or the panic or the anxiety that would set in when a guy looked at you funny or a girl would talk about a particularly steamy makeout session. You didn’t have nightmares when you were in that floaty space. You didn’t freak out when you went on dates and a boy tried to kiss you if you were floating. (You had tried to stay grounded once on a date, the first guy after the party, and it ended terribly when he tried to kiss you after walking you back to your door. You almost had a panic attack.) When Barb went missing, you weren’t even fazed. You had already been floating for almost a full week by that point, withdrawing from her and Nancy as the latter started dating Steve. That was the longest time you lived in that hazy existence. It was another week before you finally came crashing back down.

When you crashed, you crashed hard. Everything would hit you, all at once, and you’d often wind up having panic attacks. Not that anyone but your mom knew. You kept it hidden from everyone you could, only turning to her because you didn’t know who else to turn to. Even she didn’t know the real reason they started. You had cited school and bullying, and she had accepted those answers without hesitation. She was content to offer whatever help she could, letting you stay home after your hazy periods when you would crash and be so anxious you got physically sick. She hoped with enough love, it might go away.

You got used to this new reality, drifting along and floating sometimes while being painfully grounded at others. You were content with it, practically even happy. You were fine with only experiencing your love life through a clouded sense of touch until he came roaring into town.

The first time you saw him— the week of Halloween, 1984— he walked into your math class. It was Monday. You were still floating from a date you had gone on the Saturday before. You were floating all through class as he walked in the door, the teacher directed him to take an empty seat, and he scanned the room. You were floating as he smirked, spotting the empty desk behind you. You were floating, barely registering it as he sauntered down your aisle and practically collapsed in the desk behind you. You were floating for the next few minutes, scribbling notes down and paying the new kid no mind (unlike the rest of the girls in class). It wasn’t until he tapped your shoulder that you stopped floating.

You blinked, registering the sudden intrusion into your personal space, and stiffened. A year of flinching every time someone unexpectedly invaded your space and having to make up an excuse as to why had quickly trained you not to draw attention. You ever so carefully leaned away from his finger, trying not to let the panic overwhelm you, as you turned to face him. You turned to meet the prettiest blue eyes you had ever seen, a wild head of blond curls, a sun-kissed face, and a very disarming smirk looking up at you from where his head was resting on his hand.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a pencil I could borrow, would ya doll?” His raspy voice seemed to hum the request. Without missing a beat, you offered him the one in your hand. He sent you a toothy smile and a wink that made your heart stop. You mechanically turned back to face the front, reached down to your backpack, and grabbed a new one as if nothing else had happened. It wasn’t until you were four lines of notes down the page that you realized he hadn’t had a notepad in front of him. Or a binder. Or any paper at all really. You glanced back to see him still watching you, drumming your pencil against his desk without a scrap of paper in sight. He smirked again when he caught you peeking. You whipped back to the front and refused to give him the satisfaction of catching you glancing back at him again.

It wasn’t until the bell rang, signaling the end of class that he caught your attention again.

“Mind if I hang onto this?” You almost shrieked, jolting forward in your seat and practically grabbing the edge of your desk. His voice in your ear and the unexpected presence at your back had sent your stomach into summersaults and your heart flying. It only took you a millisecond to gather your wits, but it seemed like that was enough to make Billy curious. You turned around to face him, and you were quickly caught off guard. He wasn’t smirking in victory at catching you off guard, like you were half-expecting. Nor was he sending you another flirtatious grin. Instead, he was watching you with a hint of... what looked like confusion. Maybe even suspicion? Surprise?

“Hang onto what?” You hated how breathless you sounded. You knew he clocked it too, from the assessing look in his eyes. It was only there for a moment before he slid right back into that easy, flirtatious persona again. But you had seen it. And you weren’t sure what to do.

“The pencil.” He raised his eyebrow as if it were the most obvious thing. You supposed it was. You just weren’t quite fully firing yet. “After all, you never know when you might need to give a hot chick your number.” You could see his mind working behind the wink he sent you.

You sent him a tight smile, still a little off-guard and not sure how to feel about his blatant flirting. “Keep it. Not that there are many ‘hot chicks’ in Hawkins. At least, not to what I’m guessing are your standards.”

“Not if they’re trying to compete with you.” Oh, he was smooth. You’d give him that. “What’s your name, sweet cheeks?”

“Y/N. You are?”

“The man of your dreams. But you can call me Billy.” That time, you rolled your eyes. You started gathering your stuff as people began filtering out the door and into the hallway.

“Well Billy, keep the pencil. Good luck finding those hot chicks.” You were the last two in the class, and you were hoping to get away with the last word. You should’ve known better.

“I don’t need luck. I already found one!”

You were halfway through the next class before you realized you hadn’t had a panic attack after crashing down to earth from your floating headspace. It was the end of the day before you realized it was the first time in almost three months you had crashed without having a panic attack.

Billy started to become an interesting factor in your life. He was in a decent number of your classes (which surprised you, since you didn’t exactly take it easy in school and he didn’t seem the type to really try). He stopped surprising you with little touches and invading your personal space after a few more attempts at it left you alert and uneasy around him. (You were half-convinced he was looking for something with these little touches. You weren’t sure what though.) Instead, Billy found other ways to flirt with you.

He was still just as verbally flirtatious towards you as he was other girls, but he relied more on eye contact and expressions with you. With other girls, it would be a causal touch here, or pinning them against the lockers there. But you always got the searching looks, the mischievous smiles, the lingering glances that lingered just a little too long. Honestly, he’d flirt with you more than he would them too. Sometimes he’d even stop flirting with one of them when you walked by in the hallway, just to make prolonged eye contact with you or send a little greeting your way. You’d long since gotten used to this little game and started playfully rejecting him or teasing him for his lines. You saw the little thrill in his eyes every time you snarked back. And you enjoyed the little moments with him too.

The stolen glances and fleeting words grounded you. The time you spent floating around slowly became shorter and far less frequent. Before you knew it, you had been grounded for a week. It was like Billy could see the hazy mist wash over your eyes, and he was always there with some sort of line to pull you back down to earth in the most charming way. You looked forward to your little chats with him. You heard the rumors about him getting into fights, and you didn’t doubt he had some anger issues. You could feel it, bubbling under the surface, and you could see it in his open defiance of authority in class. But you saw the gentle way he handled you, as if he knew without asking that you had been hurt. As if he knew the kind of interactions you needed to feel safe. He understood your boundaries in a way nobody else seemed to, and that drew you to him despite everything else. But you refused to do anything more than flirt.

Flirting was fun. Flirting was easy. Flirting was something he did with every girl in Hawkins, something that meant you could stay off of the radars of your ex-friends. Pursuing anything else meant he’d inevitably want to spend time with you outside of school. Pursuing anything else would put you right back in line with Tommy and Carol. And you didn’t want to go back there. You weren’t sure you’d ever come back down if you did. So instead you kept him at arm’s length, content to stay grounded in his stolen glances and flirty smiles whilst pretending to ignore his roving eye and the whispers of his conquests.

It stayed like that through the end of October, into November and December. And every time Billy would take even a moment’s break from his girl of the week to flirt with you, you counted it as a tiny victory. Winter break slowly crept in, and Tina’s annual New Year’s Eve party was suddenly marking the end of break. In true Tina Rager fashion, the girl had procured all the alcohol Hawkins High’s student body could drink and then some. The lawn was crawling with your classmates as you walked up to the house, blaring the biggest hits of the past year from Tina’s brand new sound system. It paid to have parents who were loaded.

You slowly wandered into the house, unsure of how to approach the rager. It had been almost two years since the last time you went to a party like this. You felt the haze start to creep in, clouding your mind before you had even taken a sip of alcohol. You weren’t even really sure why you were here. You had ignored your friends the year before when they tried to drag you to Tina’s party, so you had surprised both them and yourself when you agreed to go this year. All you could think of was a red shirt, left open down to his navel, a leather jacket, and breathtaking blue eyes when you agreed. You had even dolled yourself up, wearing a tight skirt and curling your hair for the occasion. You hadn’t recognized yourself when you stepped out of the house earlier that evening, and now you were stepping into another world.

Your friends dashed ahead of you, making beelines for either the dance floor or the liquor counter. Your eyes tried to scan the room, but you couldn’t find his blond mullet anywhere. The sound of cheers over the music reached your ears, and you followed them to the back door. There, you found a whole crowd of people surrounding what looked like two guys doing keg stands. Or at least, that was your best guess from the fringes of the very dense crowd. You could only guess it was Steve and Billy, facing off yet again. You turned your back on the jeers and the shouts of the rowdy group of teenagers, wandering through the sweat-filled and musty living room to the kitchen. You didn’t pay attention as you grabbed a bottle of what looked like whiskey and the bottle of coke and just poured. You didn’t keep track of how much of each was in your cup. You simply capped the bottles and took a swig, hoping the alcohol would help settle the nervous feeling in your stomach and the voice at the back of your head whispering you shouldn’t be here.

One of your friends found you with half your cup gone and dragged you on to the dance floor. You swayed there with the gyrating bodies, slowly letting the haze settle over you as unfamiliar hands and bodies brushed against yours. It had been a while since you had felt its familiar presence, but this time it felt wrong. It didn’t hold the same peace and comfort it once had. Now, it was confining. Constricting. But you weren’t sure how to escape it. All you could do was sway and down your drink until suddenly it was gone. As the bodies around pressed closer, the haze thickened. You felt a pair of hands grab your hips, pulling you against a teenage boy (that was very clear by the bulge pressing against your ass). You felt the familiar detachment settle in as the hands started to roam from your hips, up your body, and that heart-stopping dread took root in your core. You closed your eyes, hoping that would help, knowing it wouldn’t. You tried to breathe through your nose, telling yourself to just get through it. You felt it flow into every limb, as warm as the bodies around you, and the mist in your head thickened until it was practically a foggy soup. You were drowning in the familiar haze until suddenly the body against you was ripped away.

You didn’t know what was happening at first. You didn’t register the shouting, the cheering, and the shrieking until you had turned around to see Billy pummeling some boy you had never seen before. You watched blankly as Billy released the shirt of the boy he was beating, causing his new punching bag to drop to the floor. Clearly unable to support himself. Billy stepped back, reeling up for a kick, when his clear blue eyes flickered to yours. And that’s when you knew.

The horror that accompanied the realization swept over your body, and you tore your gaze from the California boy to the asshole at his feet. The asshole whose hands had been all over you. Who you had let feel you up, grope you, violate you yet again without doing a single thing to stop it. You felt the panic begin to set in. Your head began to spin with the information coming in all at once until you weren’t sure which way was up. You felt a hand grasp your arm, and you tried to struggle against it. You really did. But as your panic attack began, you had little strength left to fight whoever was leading you into the yard, away from the mass of people that had gathered at the sight of the fight. It wasn’t until you were seated in a car that you finally heard him.

“Breathe, y/n,” Billy’s voice rumbled through the small space. “Breathe. It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe. That asshole isn’t gonna touch you again.” Your frightened eyes darted over to his face, and you tried to calm down. You really did. But you could still feel both sets of hands— Allard’s and the nameless boy from the party— roving your body. The leather jacket he had draped around your body to keep you warm left you feeling suffocated and stifled. You felt nausea grip your stomach, and the waves of heat crashed over your body. You threw yourself out of Billy’s car and onto the snowy ground, crawling a few feet away before vomiting up the liquor you had downed. You heard a car door slam and someone cursing as you began to hyperventilate on your hands and knees, tears streaming down your face and landing in the snow. You didn’t lift your head as boots stepped between you and your vomit, and you kept your eyes glued to the ground as the owner squatting in front of you.

“You’re safe, princess,” Billy tried to soothe you. Some sardonic voice in the very back of your head, removed from the panic that gripped your entire being, laughed at the pet name. He’s really pulling out all the stops, huh? “No one’s gonna hurt you while I’m here. Come on, breathe with me.” He set a slow rhythm. You tried to match it, finally lifting your eyes to him. You continued to sob and your breaths were uneven, leaving your lungs feeling raw in this slow cadence he set. Ever so slowly, your breaths started to even out. The waves of heat stopped washing over your body. The nausea holding your stomach in an iron-vice slowly relinquished its grip.

“There we go. That’s better. Now, how about getting into my Camaro before I freeze my balls off?” You saw the concern in his eyes, knowing his crass words were his way of trying to bluster through the tenderness he showed. You nodded, letting him help you get back in his car. He turned it on, blasting the heat. You finally realized how numb the cold had left you as your skin began to prick from the hot air thawing you out. The two of you sat in silence, neither daring to admit you were in new territory.

He knew. There was no way he didn’t. Most people didn’t realize it, but Billy was smart. He had to have picked up on your aversion to touch, your dissociative episodes, your tendency to space out when guys got too close. You might’ve been in denial for a long time about it, but you knew somewhere deep down that was why he had stopped leaning into you, touching you, and flirting with you like he did the others. And after tonight, you were sure he’d put together it had something to do with guys touching you. That same voice in the back of your head started hissing at you. He knows you’re damaged. He doesn’t want you anymore. Maybe he never did. But he certainly doesn’t now after seeing the mess you are. Not after seeing how easily you give it up to other guys. Nobody wants you. Nobody worth it anyways.

“You don’t have to tell me shit.” His voice was quiet, but it still felt like it cracked through the interior of his car. “Your call. But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Just know, no other jackass is gonna lay a fucking hand on you. Not when I’m around. Not while you’re my girl.”

Your eyes snapped over to him, and you finally let yourself look at him for the first time that night. You could see the rage still flooding his veins, still itching to be released. You could see the fury, directed not at you but the boy who had put his hands on you. You saw a need to and to defend, a side you had never seen directed your way before. You saw an affection that went past the surface-level flirting you had been doing for months. You saw a desire to claim you, to declare you his, and it sent thrills down your spine. And as his eyes flitted to yours, nervous as you let the silence sit after his declaration, you saw something that chilled you to the core.

You saw an understanding deep in Billy Hargrove’s eyes. You saw an understanding of the fear, the sense of defeat, the panic, the dread, and the helplessness that had washed over you. You saw something in his eyes that told you he was no stranger to someone else laying their hands on him and, while you were pretty sure it wasn’t in the same way you experienced it, it wasn’t any less violating. You saw something broken in him— the same thing you knew was broken in your eyes— and your heart aches for him. As he let you see into his soul with that single glance, you came to a decision. You wouldn’t ask why he seemed to understand so perfectly. You wouldn’t pry, just like he wasn’t prying with you. Instead, you would accept his protection and his affection. You would trust that he would tell you his trauma and pain when he was ready, just as you would tell him yours. And until then, you’d learn to help each other.

“Your girl, huh Hargrove?” Your voice rasped out, not quite full after the shouting from the party and the vomit in the snow. You cleared your voice, hoping it would help. “That’s quite a claim to stake. And I don’t know if you’ve picked up on it, but I’m a bit of a handful here.” You sent him an uneasy smile, hoping he’d catch your hint and let the events of the night go without any explanation.

A searching gaze as he scanned your face was the only response you got at first. When he saw you were okay, that you would manage for now, he let the worry slide for a mischievous (if not a little cautious) glint in his eye. “Oh sweetheart,” he drawled in response. He playfully let his eyes scan over your body, checking in to make sure it was okay before letting his gaze linger a little longer on your chest. “I’ve noticed. And let me say, I can’t wait to get a hand full.”

The lecherous wink he sent your way really sealed the deal as you felt a giggle bubble up. He was trying to act as if nothing had changed, as if it were business as usual, and you appreciated that more than he could ever know. He wasn’t perfect. And neither were you. You were both broken, but a small part of you wondered if just maybe you were broken in compatible ways. You got the feeling he wasn’t the only one in this car who helped the other feel a little more grounded.

[hungline]

whispering (i love you)

pairing: jihancheol  genre: smut, angst, fluff, uni au, rated e  warnings: explicit sexual content, dom/sub, aftercare, implied child abuse, implied sexual assault, mentions of violence  words: 3377 

summary: They’ve been whispering behind his back for a month now and Jeonghan doesn’t like the look in Seungcheol’s eyes.

⇢ day four of 31 days of halloween 

“Okay, spill.”

Seungcheol opens his eyes, completely fucked out of his mind as he continues to swivel his hips. Jeonghan’s grip tightens on Seungcheol’s waist when he realizes that the elder is completely immersed in subspace.

His eyes are glassy, sweat dribbling down his face as he continues to move. Jeonghan feels his brow come together in concern.

“Cheol.”

No answer.

Jeonghan sits up and Seungcheol whines, not liking that he’d been stopped. But Jeonghan is anything if persistent.

He grabs the elder’s chin, forcing Seungcheol to look him in the face. The headboard is uncomfortable behind him, but Jeonghan considers that nothing if Seungcheol has slipped deep into subspace.

“Color?”

Seungcheol whines and bites his lip, eyes focusing on nothing. Jeonghan quickly settles Seungcheol on his thighs instead of his dick. They’re both painfully erect, but Jeonghan doesn’t want to do anything when the elder can’t consent to it.

“Cheol. Hey, what’s your color?”

“...yellow.”

Jeonghan curls around the elder, laying them flat on the mattress now. Seungcheol gasps a little, maybe a bit breathless, Jeonghan can’t tell.

He cards his fingers through the elder’s hair, pressing kisses into his skin, smiling to himself when Seungcheol begins to giggle.

Seungcheol’s cock brushes against Jeonghan’s thigh and he yelps, wanting to move his hips desperately. Jeonghan kisses his nose, the crease between his brows, the corner of his mouth before he nods and smiles at Seungcheol.

“Go ahead. You can do whatever you want to, baby,” Jeonghan whispers between them.

Seungcheol sighs gratefully and gyrates his hips. Jeonghan runs the fingers of one hand through Seungcheol’s dark hair while using the other to collect the beads of pre-come spilling from the head of Seungcheol’s dick and slicks it down the shaft, making the slide easier. Seungcheol’s hips kick pitifully, another whine caught in his throat and Jeonghan kisses him tenderly.

His idea of dishing information out of Seungcheol while they fucked has now flown right out the window. Jeonghan can’t really do anything but take care of the elder when he’s in this state. Getting information out of him right now would be cruel.

Plus, Seungcheol looks very cute right now.

The elder whimpers, bucking his hips frantically as he rubs his cock against Jeonghan’s thigh. There’s more of Seungcheol’s precome mixed into the mess forming on Jeonghan’s thigh and Jeonghan is strangely turned on even more by that fact.

"What a good boy," Jeonghan murmurs.

Seungcheol keens and kisses Jeonghan's chin, stumbling through his movements enough to make Jeonghan laugh quietly. Jeonghan presses open-mouthed kisses to Seungcheol's jaw and throat, groaning when Seungcheol does and burying his face into Seungcheol's sweaty hair on occasion. The elder continues to hump Jeonghan's thigh, eyes closed and jaw slacked in pleasure.

Maybe the paddle had been a bit too much for tonight, Jeonghan thinks, he'll have to throw it into their "later or never" pile now. Or maybe Jisoo can throw it there later if he comes home from work early. Jeonghan doesn't know, either way, they won't be using the paddle again for a very long time.

Seungcheol's breath hitches as his thighs begin to shake and Jeonghan takes it upon himself to stroke the elder. His hips have stilled now, legs trembling as Jeonghan helps him fall into his orgasm.

And fall he does, but Jeonghan is there to catch him and put him back together.

Seungcheol releases himself over Jeonghan's fist and watches as his come dribbles down to stain the milky skin of Jeonghan's thigh. Jeonghan kisses him once he's done, being careful not to touch Seungcheol with his come-covered hand.

Jeonghan holds Seungcheol for awhile then, humming to calm the elder and waits as he rises out of his headspace. He plans to get them both in the shower once Seungcheol can stand, but Jisoo arrives before then, staring at the paddle on the corner of the bed and the bright red of Seungcheol's ass pressed against Jeonghan's crotch.

"Yellow?" Jisoo mouths.

Jeonghan nods and almost laughs at the way the boy rolls his eyes before grabbing the paddle and disappearing into their closet. He emerges a few seconds later, paddle-less and climbs into bed, wrapping an arm underneath Seungcheol's torso. Jeonghan helps him heave the elder up and out bed, one of his arms thrown over both of their shoulders.

They make it to the shower with no incident and Jisoo strips out of his clothes before helping Jeonghan clean up Seungcheol. Seungcheol slumps between them, mumbling something that Jeonghan can't make out, but it looks like Jisoo can. His expression goes from concentrated to alarmed to anxious then forcibly calm when he realizes that Jeonghan is staring at them.

Lately, it seems like Jeonghan has been staring a lot.

He doesn't know what's going on, but it feels like Seungcheol and Jisoo are keeping something from him and he doesn't like it one bit.

  "Okay, spill."

Jisoo hums something, ignoring Jeonghan. Jeonghan groans and follows after him, mindlessly wiping down the counter as he does.

"Shua," Jeonghan tries again.

But Jisoo continues to ignore him.

A new customer comes up to the register and Jeonghan plasters on his fakest smile before approaching and taking their order. Work drags on after that and despite the handjobs they give each other in the break closet when it's really slow, Jeonghan still feels that he gained nothing new from today.

When they get home and Seungcheol is in the kitchen unwrapping some takeout he ordered, Jeonghan's usual order is waiting on the counter along with his favorite side of fried rice to go with it. Seungcheol preens under the kisses Jeonghan and Jisoo give him to convey their thanks.

Jeonghan eats unbothered, watching the way Jisoo and Seungcheol exchange glances when they think he isn't looking. It's been going on for a month now and Jeonghan has had about enough of it by this point.

Still, he watches them.

He notices that there's less food on Seungcheol's plate this time and Jeonghan frowns, dropping a piece of chicken on the elder's plate at the same time that Jisoo does. They look up to meet one another's eye and grin, but then Jisoo's gaze flickers upward towards Seungcheol and Jeonghan looks away, a sour feeling rising from his stomach.

He manages to get through the rest of dinner before throwing himself across the couch and opens up Seungcheol's laptop to finish the essay he was working on earlier. Seungcheol and Jisoo continue to whisper at the counter, turned in their seats towards one another, knees bumping together occasionally. Jeonghan ignores it, focusing on his paper and drowns out the little giggle Seungcheol makes when Jisoo tries to hand feed him the rest of his dinner.

Seungcheol looks skinnier now that Jeonghan has been paying attention and he really doesn't like it. Seungcheol is fit and muscular, sure, but skinny he is not. He'll have to ask if the elder is trying out some ridiculous new diet or not.

Eventually, the two finish and wash up, throwing away the trash and stowing the bags their food came in to recycle for other things (usually their bathroom trash bin). Seungcheol traipses into the living room once they're done, two water bottles in hand.

He settles himself on the floor and leans back against the couch before holding up a water bottle for Jeonghan to take.

"Thanks," Jeonghan mutters, distracted with his paper.

Seungcheol smiles, that dopey cute smile of his that Jeonghan has never been able to say no to. "No prob, babe. Mind if I watch some Netflix?"

Jeonghan sighs and sits up, leaving enough room for Jisoo to slip underneath his feet and settle into the opposite side of the couch with Jeonghan's socked feet in his lap. "No. Go ahead, baby."

The elder's cheeks flush at the endearment, but he turns back to the tv anyway and puts on a show about aliens and how governments all over the world are trying to cover up any and all connections we have with them. Despite the fact that Jeonghan's paper is due in two days, he finds himself paying rapt attention to the tv, even tucking his feet in and making room for Seungcheol on the couch once they've gotten two episodes into the season.

Jisoo keeps complaining about how fake and fabricated all the "evidence" is, but Seungcheol silences him with a kiss that then turns into a steamy makeout session and Jeonghan averts his eyes, strangely feeling as if he's encroaching on something not meant for him to see.

It's weird and Jeonghan doesn't know why he's feeling this way, but maybe he does.

The signs are all there after all. The whispering, the shared glances, the panicked expressions when they know Jeonghan is in earshot. The quiet little moments they share that Jeonghan doesn't want to interrupt.

Maybe his time is really up with these two. For good this time.

And while it hurts to think it, he's at least happy that they'll still have each other.

He wonders how much time they'll give him to move out. He also wonders if he should quit his crappy job and try being a nanny or something instead since he doesn't really think he'd like to continue being Jisoo's coworker after it's all said and done. At least, not for a while anyway.

Either way, Jeonghan knows what's going to happen next when Seungcheol pauses the fifth episode and both he and Jisoo turn to face Jeonghan.

Seungcheol takes his laptop and makes sure that Jeonghan's paper is saved before he closes the lid and puts it on the coffee table. Jeonghan watches him do it, feeling kind of numb. Jisoo takes his hand and rubs a thumb over his knuckles, that sly smile of his offered up for Jeonghan to take.

Something in Jeonghan breaks when Seungcheol turns back to face them, a serious look in his eyes. The same look he had when Seokmin knocked on their door last year with no money, no clothes, a ripped shirt, the zipper on his pants broken, and bruises on his face and chest saying he couldn't go back home. Jeonghan starts to sweat when the look doesn't waver.

The same look Seungcheol had worn when Jihoon had a mental breakdown, broke most of the things in his dorm and almost dropped out of college until Seungcheol kicked down his door and wouldn't let anybody else in until Jihoon was crying into his chest and Seungcheol was rocking him to sleep.

A sense of dread falls down upon Jeonghan when Seungcheol's gaze flickers to meet Jisoo's before pinning Jeonghan to the couch again.

It's the exact same look Seungcheol had when Wonwoo got into a car accident a few months ago and they'd all panicked, thinking that he'd died on the spot. Thankfully, he hadn't, but the scar that runs down from the top of his ribcage to his mid-thigh is still pink and puckery and Wonwoo only ever lets Junhui touch it. And that's only sometimes.

Whatever the two are going to say to him, Jeonghan is sure he isn't going to like it.

"Cheonsa."

Jisoo speaks up first, his tone careful and measured and Jeonghan hates how his breath catches in his throat as he waits for the blow.

"There's something Cheol and I need to talk to you about."

Jeonghan's gaze flickers between the two, an unknown emotion clogging his throat that's keeping him from speaking. But he needs to speak. He needs to before they break his heart for good this time.

If Jeonghan we're being realistic, he probably should've seen this coming.

They've had fights and argued many times before and broken up four times, but they've always crawled back to one another, crying and helpless and honestly, really pathetic looking, but it's how they've coped. Jisoo and Seungcheol are gentle with Jeonghan, knowing when to push and when to not and they know not to let their hands wander near his backside after what happened two years ago. Jeonghan still feels like he's in recovery and he knows that it puts a damper on a lot of things between them, but it's never felt that way for Seungcheol and Jisoo who've always been willing to cater to his needs. They've always been very understanding and when Seungcheol went and paid him a visit with Soonyoung, Mingyu and Minghao backing him up, Jeonghan had felt that his past had finally been laid to rest.

Still, Jisoo fights and argues with everything he has just to prove that he's right, even when he's dead wrong because he's petty and Jeonghan is just as petty, if not more. Seungcheol plays peacemaker most of the time, but his patience usually wears beyond thin and when he's angry, Jisoo and Jeonghan know better than to bother him with their petty arguments.

They tiptoe around each other a lot and it probably isn't very healthy for any of them, but they are getting better. They fight less often, they take care of one another and they know not to push so much.

They even go to counseling, updating each other about their progress and celebrating any victories, big or small.

They're getting better.

So maybe that's why Jeonghan bursts into tears when Seungcheol clears his throat and prepares to speak.

"Hey." Seungcheol's voice is soft and low and Jeonghan clings to him, not wanting to let go. "Hey, sh. It's okay. We're sorry."

Jisoo cards his fingers through Jeonghan's long, long hair, twisting the ends of it around his fingertips in the way that he knows Jeonghan likes. "Cheonsa, hey. Why are you crying? We didn't even get to speak yet."

Jeonghan shakes his head and then buries it into Seungcheol's chest, letting the two of them pet and hold him. Murmuring quiet assurances into his hair, his skin, his very being. But the tears dry up fast and Jeonghan is left with a soggy t-shirt pressed up against his face and two pairs of hands trailing over his skin as if he's the only map they've ever known.

"I'm sorry," Jeonghan croaks, his voice muffled, but he knows that the two can hear him. "I'll have my things out by next week. Is that okay?"

There's a deadly silence lingering in the air now. Tension thick enough to cut with a knife and Jeonghan gulps, pulling himself out of Seungcheol's arms and putting distance between them.

"What?" It's Seungcheol who decides to break the silence.

Jeonghan shrugs. "You're breaking up with me again, aren't you?"

Jisoo and Seungcheol exchange looks of confusion and Jeonghan lets himself breathe a little.

"No. Where did you get that from?" Jisoo asks.

Jeonghan shrugs again, not willing to speak anymore. Jisoo sighs and draws closer, neatly folding Jeonghan into his lap and Jeonghan goes willingly, breathing easier when Seungcheol's hand slides up his shirt and comes to rest on the small on his back. Jisoo presses a kiss to the top of Jeonghan's head, smiling when Seungcheol leans in to do the very same.

Then the elder's lips are trailing downwards and he's pressing insistently against Jeonghan. Seungcheol's other hand now slips underneath Jisoo's shirt and trails up his spine, pausing only when he reaches Jisoo's shoulder blades. Jeonghan is too lost in kissing Seungcheol to really know what else is going on, but eventually, they stop kissing and Seungcheol smiles, as reassuring and strong as ever and much too soft for Jeonghan to ever think he was going to break up with him.

Jisoo is there then, pressing kisses to the corner of Jeonghan's mouth before pulling back and pushing Jeonghan's hair behind his ear.

"That wasn't why we wanted to talk to you," Jisoo says then, bringing Jeonghan back to the situation at hand.

"Then what was it?" He asks, because what else could he say? You two have been whispering behind my back and excluding me and I really thought this was goodbye for good? I'm so sorry?

"My parents are coming to visit. They want to stay with me for a week," Jisoo says.

Jeonghan feels the breath being knocked out of him. "What?"

Seungcheol grips Jeonghan's chin and forces them to see eye-to-eye. "I got the internship with the biology department, but I have to move to Germany for six months to complete it. I'm gonna do it."

A double whammy then.

"What?" Jeonghan doesn't know how he's able to speak without air. "How long?"

Jisoo bites his lips and holds up two fingers. "Two weeks for me. Um, after winter break for Cheol."

Seungcheol leans in and bumps his nose against Jeonghan's, making the long haired man draw in a deep breath. "Okay?"

"Okay."

"That's it?" Jisoo asks.

Jeonghan takes in another breath. "Yeah. That's it."

"Wow," Jisoo mouths, and thenー "Wait, did you really think we were going to break up with you?"

Jeonghan nods, eyes closed now as he takes another steady breath. Seungcheol pecks him on the lips and lets go of his face, pushing his hands back up his boyfriends' shirts.

"Would never break up with you, Cheonsa. Love you too much," Seungcheol says, pushing his face into Jeonghan's neck.

Jisoo laughs and then sighs, completely perplexed. "I really thought we'd have another fight about this."

Jeonghan shrugs and lets Seungcheol suck a hickey into his skin. "Nah. This is nothing compared to what I thought. And I love you too, Cheollie. You too, Shua."

"You're such an ass," Jisoo laments. "But I love you, the both of you. That's why I told my parents they could visit. I don't care what they think anymore."

"Well, well, well," Jeonghan smirks. "Look at our big boy all grown up now, Cheollie."

Seungcheol laughs, but says nothing, merely reaching up to trail his nose up and down Jisoo's throat now.

"Shut up, Hannie. I can't believe you thought we were gonna break up with you. As if."

"Then what was up with all the whispering and secret meetings? You know I saw you two at the coffee shop last week all huddled up and hunched over a notebook or something, writing stuff down and giggling like fools."

Jisoo bites his lip and exchanges a look with Seungcheol. Jeonghan snaps his fingers and points at them.

"That! That right there is what I'm talking about," Jeonghan exclaims.

Seungcheol laughs. "May as well tell him, Shua. You know I suck at keeping secrets."

Jisoo rolls his eyes and laughs as well. "Yeah, I know. I'm surprised you lasted this long. Good for you, baby. You set a new record."

Seungcheol blushes and smiles, pressing his face into Jisoo's neck again. Jisoo grins and sticks his tongue out at Jeonghan.

"If you really need to know, we were planning your birthday party which was supposed to be a surprise, but you're such a brat that you thought we were going to break up with you."

Jeonghan laughs now, beyond relieved. "Shut up and love me."

"Already do, Cheonsa," Jisoo replies, his mild irritation gone now.

Seungcheol emerges from Jisoo's neck to tangle his fingers into Jeonghan's hair and kisses him fiercely. "I love you too, Jeonghan. Love you lots. Now get me out of these damn pants. I've had a boner for the last hour."

Jeonghan laughs. "Aliens is what does it for you now?"

Jisoo presses a kiss to Seungcheol's collarbones, grinning with intent. "Well, I guess I know what our next roleplay scene will be."

Seungcheol blushes and ignores any more comments about aliens for the rest of the night, but when Jisoo is pushing his hips into Seungcheol with Jeonghan pressing into Jisoo in turn, he might or might not have called one of them his alien baby.

Jeonghan says it's weird but continues to fuck into Jisoo anyway.

For the time being, they're okay.

 ("We still need to talk about you moving to Germany, alien boy!" Jeonghan kicks at Seungcheol's thigh later when they're in bed, fucked out and blissed out.

"Don't call me that," Seungcheol whines.

Jisoo laughs and joins in when Jeonghan begins to yell "alien boy" at the top of his lungs.)

 They're gonna be just fine.

[parkerrogersgirl]

A Little Too Old-Fashioned

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1,747

Warnings: language, jealous Steve (which I live for), SMUT

A/N: This was a request from the wonderful @mrs-meghan-winchester , hope it’s what you wanted, doll!

“Nat, I really do not want to go tonight.” You’re in the dressing room of a high-end dress store with Natasha and Wanda, shopping for a last-minute outfit for tonight. Tony had decided to throw a huge party, “just because.”

“I don’t care, Tony said everyone has to go. Besides, Steve is going and you wanna dress up for your boyfriend, don’t you?” Natasha responds from outside the door.

You smirk, slipping on the dress, “alright, fuck it. I’m doing this.” You walk out of the dressing room in a long-sleeved black dress with a low cut neckline and an open back.

“DAAAAAAMMNNN, GIRL,” Natasha says while Wanda wolf whistles.

“Steve is a lost cause, babe. There is not a chance he’ll still be a virgin after tonight,” Wanda says with a smirk. You’d been dating Steve Rogers for about a year, and he wanted to wait to have sex. You knew he loved you, but the waiting was killing you. Sure, you’d had some steamy makeout sessions, but that was it. You’d never gone down on him and vice versa. You got that he was old-fashioned, but you got the feeling that he was a little too old-fashioned.

You look at yourself in the mirror, and you’re almost unrecognizable. The dress hugs all your curves, and the low cut of the neck leaves nothing to the imagination. You change back into your regular clothes and Natasha pays, since that was the only reason you came with them.

You get back to the tower and go to Steve’s room after you drop your dress off in your room. He’s on his balcony reading and you sneak up behind him, wrapping your arms around him.

“Hey, doll,” he says, closing his book. He grabs your arm, pulling you into his lap to kiss you deeply.

“Hello to you too, baby,” you say into the kiss. He wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back.

“So, did you get a new outfit for tonight? I wanna see,” he says, smirking at you.

“Not gonna happen, Stevie. It’s a surprise.”

He pouts, his hands moving up to your shoulders, “but I wanna see it.”

You shake your head, “nope. You’ll see it tonight. And you better be ready to dance with me.”

“Sorry, doll, I don’t dance,” he says with a shrug.

“Well, let’s just say you’ll regret that in about an hour,” you kiss him quickly and go to your room to grab your dress before meeting Wanda and Natasha in Nat’s room. You were all going to get ready together, and Nat was going to curl your hair while you did their makeup. You did eyeliner for each of them and Natasha made your hair look perfect, and you checked each other out after you were dressed.

“Alright, if at least one of us doesn’t get laid tonight, I’m gonna rip off some dicks,” Wanda says.

You fluff up your curls a little before walking out to get on the elevator with the girls. You try to pull up your dress a little, but Natasha smacks your hand.

“Don’t you dare. You need to show that off.”

You blush as the elevator reaches the floor where the bar and living room are located, taking a deep breath. You step out of the elevator with your friends and they immediately drag you to the bar. You order a Long Island Iced Tea, which you knew would work its magic quickly.

You take a sip, feeling a pair of arms around your waist.

“You look delicious in this dress, doll,” Steve whispers in your ear, nibbling your earlobe.

You smirk, turning to look at him, “you don’t look too bad yourself, Captain.” He’s wearing a grey suit with a bright blue tie, which really brings out his eyes.

He runs his hands up and down your hips, “I really do not want to be here.”

“Well, since we are here, let’s dance,” you say as you take his arm and set down your drink, trying to pull him to the makeshift dance floor.

He shakes his head, moving his arm from your grasp, “doll, I told you, I don’t dance.”

You roll your eyes, “fine, I’ll just find someone who will. Watch my drink, will you?”

You walk up to Tony, whispering your plan to him.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea, (Y/N),” he shakes, shaking his head.

“Please, Tony? It was a lot of work looking this good, and I wanna make him pay attention.”

He groans, nodding, “fine, kid needs to be de-virginized anyway.”

He leads you to the dance floor, an arm around your waist, with the other on your shoulder. “Slow Hands” by Niall Horan is playing, and you start to slowly salsa with him. You make small talk for a few minutes, particularly about what he’s been working on with Stark Industries. He glances at you, whispering in your ear, “don’t look now, but your boyfriend looks pissed.”

You glance up, and Steve’s fists are clenched from across the room. His eyes meet yours and he storms over to you, and Tony dismisses himself. Steve grabs your arm, setting your drink down before taking you to the elevator. He presses the button for his floor, still holding onto you. You don’t say a word as the doors open and he leads you to his room. He kicks the door shut behind him, facing you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“What was that?”

“What? I was just talking to Tony.”

“That wasn’t talking, doll. That was flirting.”

“No, Steve. It wasn’t. I was talking to him about everything that’s going on with the company. Pepper’s been super stressed out about it.”

“Then what the hell was that dancing? Did you really need to be that close to him?” “Baby, that’s called the salsa. You wouldn’t dance with me, and I needed to get Tony to talk to me. Pepper asked me to.”

He pulls you tight to him and you gasp, “I don’t think you understand something. You are mine. I’m protective of things that are mine. So when I saw you dancing with Stark…. My blood was boiling. You don’t get to do shit like that to me. I lived in a time where that’s not okay. I know I don’t understand modern flirting, but if I’d known that wasn’t what that was, I might have been okay with it. But I really wish you hadn’t done that in the first place.”

“Steve, I bought this dress just to go to the party. I wanted to dance with my boyfriend. And you weren’t paying attention to me, so I wanted to feel good when I was this dressed up. I don’t dress up often, and I just wanted someone to look at me.”

“Well then you should’ve said that instead of making me jealous. Because now I have to remind you who you belong to.” He starts walking forward, and you end up backing into the bed.

“Steve, what are you doing?”

“Well, I wanted to wait a little longer just because I’ve never been comfortable with sex before marriage, but I think that’s what I need to do to make you realize you’re mine.”

He pulls off your dress and pushes you down on the bed, taking off his jacket, tie, and shoes before climbing on top of you. He kisses you roughly, pinning your arms above your head. He takes his tie, wrapping it around your wrists so they stay together.

“Whoa, when did you learn that?”

He smirks, “I may have wanted to wait, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been doing research.”

He quickly unbuttons his shirt, throwing it on the floor. He does the same with his belt and pants, and he stares at you practically naked on the bed.

“Jesus Christ, doll, you’re gorgeous.” You blush, looking away from his gaze. He shakes his head, lifting up your chin, “you’re going to look at me the whole time. Otherwise, I stop. Got it?”

You nod, and he raises an eyebrow, “I need to hear you, doll.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

You look at him, confused. “Yes….. Captain?”

He smirks at you, kissing you passionately as he starts grinding on you. You moan and he kisses down your body. You close your eyes and he stops. “What did I just say, doll?”

You open your eyes again, biting your lip. He nods and keeps kissing down your body. He reaches the apex of your thighs, he takes off your underwear, and you feel his hot breath on your pussy. You squirm, and he makes eye contact with you.

“Who does this belong to?” “You.”

“Are you sure about that? Or does it belong to Stark?”

“It’s yours, Captain. Only yours. Please.”

“Please what, doll?” He licks a long stripe, sucking on your clit.

“Please stop teasing,” you moan, arching your back so your hips move toward his face.

He shakes his head, sucking harder as he slips two fingers inside you. You roll your head back, making sure to keep your eyes open. He scissors his fingers, and you moan loudly.

“OH, CAPTAIN,” you yell, wrapping your legs over his shoulders, “I’m close, Steve.”

He stops, pulling his fingers out to move up, kissing you roughly. “Steveee that’s not fair,” you groan. “Should I let you cum, doll? Are you going to be good? Will you remember who you belong to?”

“Yes, Captain, please just let me.”

He takes his boxers off, immediately pushing into you. He lets out a near primal groan, and you gasp when he’s completely filled you up. He starts a fast pace, slamming into you. You wrap your arms around him, scratching down his back.

He props himself up on his elbows so he can penetrate you at a deeper angle, hitting your g-spot. Your breathing speeds up and he feels you squeezing him. “Cum for me, baby. I’m right there with you.”

You gasp as you orgasm, looking into his deep blue eyes, “FUCK, CAPTAIN.”

He cums with you, sucking on your neck hard, and you’re sure you’ll have a mark in the morning.

You’re both covered in a layer of sweat and he pulls out, laying next to you. He pulls you so your head in on his chest, looking up at him.

“If I’d known you felt that good, I would’ve done that the day I met you.

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