#dont cheat on your partner. ever.

[wizardnuke]

um personally i think that if your girlfriend is insecure over you being friends with another girl you should run far away really fast. but i may be misreading the situation. i don't think i am though.

[florida3exclamationpoints]

.

[bsidez]

the only reason I use or even have any of my friends s/o's phone numbers are to ask them to spy for me when I do my gift shopping. even the ones I consider to be friends, I can't imagine reaching out without a purpose??? like just, casually

[atlabeth]

unadulterated loathing (pt 2)

pt 1 / pt 3

pairing: fiyero tigelaar x fem reader

summary: you are forced to partner with fiyero on a history project. things don't go as you imagine.

a/n: sprinkling anthony bridgerton references in this because wreck my plans that's my man!! anyways this is actually going to be 3 parts because i have zero self control and ended up writing 15k words in total and im trying to see whether i like posting parts or doing one whole one shot more so there's going to be a third part. but for once in my writer life i have the whole thing written so it will be out in a couple days! have no idea how this fic became this long out of nowhere but i hope you all enjoy lol. stressed reader x calm bf will always be famous on this blog

wc: 4.9k

warning(s): almost cheating? fiyero is still w/ galinda for most of this so the line is very blurred but they dont cross it lmao. the slightest bit of angst but basically all fluff

“Isn’t this nice?” Fiyero spread his arms out as you took a seat in the grass. Idly, you wondered about getting grass stains out before he started talking again. “Fresh air, actual sunlight, and things to look at other than words on a page.”

“I do go outside,” you said wryly. “You act like I’m some hermit.”

He shrugged. “I only ever see you in class or at the library.”

“I’m just there most of the time,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m not this smart by slacking off.”

Fiyero said your name with surprise. “Was that a joke?”

You laughed again. “Hardly.”

“I think it was,” he nodded. “You really are learning how to have fun.”

“I know how to have fun!” you exclaimed. “We just have different ideas of fun!”

“And what is your idea of fun?” Fiyero asked pointedly. “Studying? Attending class? Going through the intricacies of various languages?”

“That last one is very fun,” you defended. 

“How did you decide on linguistics anyways?” he asked. “You’re incredibly passionate about something I didn’t even know was a major here.”

“It’s not, technically.” You shrugged. “I’m a history major. I just convinced Doctor Dillamond to let me be his teacher’s assistant so I could include more linguistics lessons in the syllabus.”

“How do you do it?” he asked. “Oz— why do you do it? You’re stressed all the time. Surely taking one less class or not being a TA wouldn’t kill you. All of this seems like it is.” 

“I’m not like you, Fiyero,” you said. “I can’t get kicked out of a hundred schools and still be fine. I’ve got one chance, and if I squander it, then I’ve also squandered my dream. And that’s unacceptable to me.”

“There’s always second chances,” he said. “And third ones, too. Sometimes even fourth.” 

“Maybe for a prince,” you laughed. “But not for somebody like me.” 

“And just who are you?” Fiyero asked as he sat down next to you. “I know you’re Gillikinese and I know you’re probably going to succeed in whatever you attempt. But I still feel like I don’t know anything about who you are without the school uniform.” 

“Why does that matter?” you asked defensively. “We’re project partners, not friends.” 

“Because I’d very much like us to be friends,” he answered simply. 

That might have been the most shocking thing he’d said all day. Fiyero Tigelaar, Winkie prince and self-declared slacker and desired paramour of nearly every Shiz student, said he wanted to be your friend. 

Again, that warmth bloomed inside you. You tried to ignore it—tried to fully banish it. 

“Don’t do this,” you said, looking away from him. 

“Do what?”

“Act like you like me,” you said, stronger this time. “You— you do it with everyone, and that’s fine, but don’t do it with me.” 

“I’m not following,” Fiyero said. 

You glared at him. “I know you aren’t this daft.”

“Apologies,” he said. “I’m just trying to figure out how you figured I don’t genuinely like you.”

You blinked. “Because you’re you. You flirt with everybody so you can dance through life.”

“Of course,” Fiyero agreed. “It just so happens that I genuinely like you in addition.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Why?”

His laugh was nothing but shocked. “Are you asking me why I like you?”

“Well,” you glanced away with a huff, “when you put it like that it sounds ridiculous.” 

“I’ll bite anyways,” Fiyero said. “I like you because you know what you want. You never really stop talking about it, honestly.”

“Are you trying to compliment me?”

“You’re intelligent and driven and you don’t shy away from anything you want,” he continued. “And you thoroughly vex me in near every encounter we have, most joyously.”

“…So you like me because I’m stubborn and confusing,” you said. 

Fiyero sighed. “You‘ve got some serious self esteem issues.”

“I do not!” you exclaimed.

“You’ve tied your worth to your academic achievement,” he said. “You can’t see all the good you’ve already done, how smart you truly are, because you only stress about the next thing you need to do. You’d rather lose your mind over what’s to come than realize all you’ve got in the moment.”

Your mouth opened and closed for a good five seconds, like a fish out of water, before it snapped shut. 

“I thought you were supposed to be brainless,” you settled on. 

“I am,” Fiyero agreed with a chuckle. “But I also know people better than most, and our study sessions have given me ample time to study you.”

Great Oz, why was your face so hot? You felt like you were burning up from the inside out. Fiyero Tigelaar was killing you, and slowly at that. 

“Why are you studying me?” you asked pointedly. 

“Because you’re interesting,” he said. “And very beautiful.”

“Well, I’m— I’m glad we’ve finally reached a truce.” You tried to sound as casual as possible—you couldn’t let Fiyero know the full effect he was beginning to have on you. You didn’t think he would ever shut up about that, and Galinda certainly wouldn’t either. You didn’t want to make an enemy of her. “It’ll make this project much easier.”

“Yes,” Fiyero mused. “I believe it will.”

Amusement, and maybe something warmer, danced in his irises. A very small part of you wanted to let yourself fall, freely and uncaring, just as every other student did. 

You had to lock that part of you away, never to be seen again. You didn’t like Fiyero. He was still a nuisance in every single sense of the word. 

You swallowed, trying to cure your cottonmouth. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. 

You needed to finish this essay immediately. 

-

You sighed when you heard a knock on your door. Coralie, for how smart she was, had a habit of forgetting her room key—so much so that you’d stopped bothering to lock the door on the days she went to class before you. 

“It’s unlocked, Cora!” you called out. You didn’t want to get up from your desk, not when you were in the middle of writing. You were worried that you would lose the thread of inspiration you’d finally caught the moment you got out of your chair. 

“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked,” a familiar voice said. “All sorts of miscreants could get in.” 

Your hand slipped in your shock, but you couldn’t even be annoyed about smearing the fresh ink on the page or getting it on your shirt cuffs because you had more important things to worry about. Namely, your surprise visitor. 

“Fiyero?” 

“Present,” he affirmed as he leaned against your doorframe. “You’ve got a nice place here.”

“Thank you,” you said. “What are you doing here?” 

“Much less pink than Galinda’s,” he continued. “I think it’s the only color she owns, honestly. A bit absurd but—” 

“What are you doing here?” you repeated. 

“I should be asking you that question,” Fiyero said, eyes narrowing in on you. “I went to the library and you weren’t there.” 

You cleared your throat. “I was giving you the day off.” 

He frowned and stood up from the doorframe. “Who said I wanted the day off?” 

“You,” you said. “When you didn’t show up to Doctor Dillamond’s class today.” 

Fiyero brushed his hand through the air. “That’s different.” 

You looked at him expectantly. “So you skipped the class this project is for, but you don’t want to skip the actual project.” 

“That sounds about right, yes.” 

“You don’t even do anything whenever we’re together,” you said. “You just stare at me and complain about doing work and ask me about my life and take an hour to write one page of notes.” 

“That also sounds about right,” Fiyero said. “I enjoy your presence. Do you not enjoy mine?” 

If only he knew the way he’d been making you feel for the past week. He could never know that he appeared in your dream last night. 

“...Your presence is fine,” you said. “I just figured I would give you the day off, seeing as we only have one week left until it’s due.” 

“How much have you written already without me?” he asked. 

“Five pages, but that—” 

“You’ve nearly done half of the project without me?” Fiyero interrupted. 

“...Yes?” Why did you actually feel bad about this? 

Fiyero got closer so he could look over your shoulder at your work, and you found yourself holding your breath at his proximity. 

“Do you think you’re doing me a favor?” 

“Clearly,” you said. “The sooner it’s done, the sooner it’s over, and the sooner you don’t have to deal with me anymore.” You shrugged. “You said you wanted to ride my coattails anyways, so I figured I would make it easier for you.” 

“Just a few days ago you were chastising me for not doing my part,” Fiyero said. “Now you’re not even letting me try?” 

“I—” the words stuck in your throat, and again you felt your face heat. 

I don’t want to have to think about any of this more than I have to because I’m worried what I’ll realize. 

I don’t want to give you any more chances to take me off course because I know I’ll say yes. 

I don’t want to be around you longer than I have to because I think I’m starting to like you. 

“Yes?” 

“I am doing you a favor,” you finally decided. “You don’t have to worry about it. Go ride that horse of yours, or bother other students, or spend time with Galinda. You’ve earned it.” 

“Hardly,” Fiyero said. “I’m doing my part, whether you like it or not. We’ll meet at the library tomorrow morning before class like we’ve been doing.” 

“I have class at 8 in the morning tomorrow.” 

“...Then we’ll do it after class,” he reneged. “I do need my beauty sleep.” 

That got a smile out of you, which spurned one from Fiyero in turn. “I think that is one of the only genuine smiles you’ve given me since we started working together.” 

“I smile plenty,” you insisted. 

“At your books,” Fiyero said. “Not at me.” 

“That’s because my books are oh-so-beautiful,” you said. “And they don’t even need beauty sleep.”

He placed his hand on his heart. “You wound me.” 

Your smile grew and you set your pen down. “The library after class?” 

Fiyero nodded and tapped on your desk as he stood up. “Library after class.” 

He was about to go to the door when Coralie poked her head in. “Why is the door— oh! Fiyero!” She straightened up, plastering on a pretty smile as she stepped inside. “What brings you to our corner of Shiz?” 

“Doctor Dillamond’s midterm,” he said. “Your roommate here is trying to save all of the fun for herself.” 

“That sounds like her,” Cora nodded sagely. “You’re very good to try and keep her from that fate.”

Fiyero pressed his hand to his chest. “I consider it my duty. But I apologize for the intrusion—I’ll leave the two of you be.”

“Oh, stay as long as you want,” she spoke up. “I’m sure your partner wouldn’t mind.”

“He’s got things to do,” you interceded. “You’ve got things to do, Fiyero.”

He smiled knowingly. “I certainly do. You lovely ladies have a fine rest of your day.” He looked at you and said your name. “Don’t forget tomorrow.”

“How could I?” you said weakly. 

Fiyero chuckled and bowed his head in lieu of more parting words. The second he left, Cora turned to you with wide eyes. 

“Don’t,” you warned. 

“He came here to talk to you!” she exclaimed. “He found out your room number because he wanted to talk to you!” 

“Be quiet!” you exclaimed. “The door is still open—he can probably hear your screeching!”

Coralie shut the door and squealed. “He likes you!”

“We are project partners,” you enunciated. “Nothing more.” 

“Oh, I’m sure that’s what you think,” she said. “Just like I’m sure that he wants to be more.” 

“You’re acting like he isn’t with Galinda,” you said. “She controls this whole school—do you remember what happened to Elphaba when she didn’t like her?” 

Cora shrugged. “Sure. But I’ve been hearing there’s trouble in paradise.” 

That got you paying attention. “What?” 

“I knew it!” Coralie exclaimed—nearly yelled, honestly. “I knew you liked him!” 

“Be quiet!” you whisper-yelled. “Oz, what is wrong with you?” 

“I knew you liked him!” she repeated. “And he likes you— oh, it is too perfect!” 

“He does not like me,” you insisted, “and you are crazy.” 

“You didn’t say that you didn’t like him,” Coralie sung, and you screwed your eyes shut. 

“Fine!” you finally said. “Fine— I like him. Will you stop now?”

“Of course not,” she said, and you sighed. “How bad do you have it?”

“I don’t have it bad,” you scoffed. “I just— I enjoy spending time with him. And I think he’s kind of cute.” 

“Oh, you are full on head over heels,” she mused. “You just don’t know it. It’s okay.” 

You groaned as you buried your head in your hands. “I hate you.” 

She laughed. “And you like Fiyero.” 

“Shut up.” Your words were muffled, but you meant them all the same. 

You were comically doomed. 

-

The next day went… shockingly smooth. 

Fiyero was in the library when he said he’d be—he was even there before you, much to your surprise and he still had the notebook and pen you’d given him, much to his surprise. He made sure to bring an extra canteen of water for you, because he noticed you never had any with you. You were probably concerningly dehydrated. 

He tried to be a more attentive student to you than he’d ever been at any of his classes—not that that was difficult. You explained your outline and all the work you’d already done, what he could do on the last five pages and how to make his writing voice match yours to make a consistent paper. 

He wrote notes both on what you knew about Ilara Mayfair (a ridiculous amount, in his opinion) and anything else you thought he needed to know (also a ridiculous amount).

He was impressed most of all, though. No wonder you’d isolated yourself from near the entire student body and stressed over every letter in every sentence in every assignment. You were incredibly intelligent, but you were also able to explain everything in a way that even he understood. Fiyero had never really cared about… well, anything relating to school before he ended up partners with you. 

But now, Fiyero found himself surprisingly entranced by it all. He’d always liked your voice, and he had a permanent smile on his lips watching you talk so easily about your passions. It put a spark in your eye and a brightness about you that was usually bogged down by everything else that you stressed about. 

You were beautiful, especially when you were happy. And Fiyero had discovered over the past week that you were happiest when you got to talk about what you cared about to an interested audience. He only regretted acting like he wasn’t interested for so long. 

Finally, when Fiyero called a break on account of his hands aching (he’d never written this much in his life, and it still was only half of what you did basically every day), and you were eating an apple (that he also brought, because you really didn’t take care of yourself when you were doing work, which was always), he smiled at you. 

“You know, we really do make a good team,” Fiyero said. 

You swallowed the bite of apple you had in your mouth and cocked your head as you looked at him. “You think?” 

“I know,” he nodded. “You’ve done the impossible, darling. You’ve actually made me care about school.” 

“Well, I think you’ve done the impossible too.” You lifted the apple up. “You made me care about my health during midterms season.” 

“It certainly wasn’t easy,” he said wryly. “You kind of took it all kicking and screaming.”

You shrugged. “I’m not top of our class for nothing.” 

“Do you have to stress yourself into misery to be top of the class?” he asked. 

“I’m not miserable,” you retorted. 

It was when you said things like that that Fiyero really began to worry about you. It was part of the reason he was so intent on staying by your side through this whole project—no matter how dull he found the material—after the first session. He sometimes saw you around campus, usually carrying a stack of books or talking with your roommate.

After Fiyero was paired with you, he wondered why he didn’t see you more before it all, considering how active you were with literally everything school-wise. Then he realized you were likely always in the library, and the only time he’d visited the library was on Galinda’s tour. You were there, well enough, but you took your leave as soon as things started getting rowdy. 

A shame, he realized. He wondered what your relationship could have been had Galinda not staked her claim on him so soon. 

You weren’t going to take care of yourself, clearly enough, so Fiyero decided—at least for the duration of this project—that he would. It didn’t really matter if you were top of the class if you passed out from stress, exhaustion, annoyance, or a mix of all three. Likely a mix of all three. 

He didn’t really anticipate those feelings morphing into genuine affection. 

“I seem to recall you saying you dream of your future assignments,” Fiyero said, coming out of his thoughts. “That doesn’t sound like the habit of a happy person.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “Everybody has stress dreams.” 

“You know, I really don’t think they do,” Fiyero said. 

You rolled your eyes as you picked your pen up with your free hand and jotted down a few more sentences. “Sure.”

“On that note,” he said, “why don’t we call it a day?”

“We can’t call it a day,” you said. You took another bite from your apple and swallowed, continuing to write all the while without looking at him. “We’re not finished yet.”

“That is the most casually you’ve said that so far,” Fiyero mused. “I really am making progress.”

You laughed, finally paying him mind. “Progress with what?”

“I’ve been tracking your smiles and laughs this whole time,” he said. “See, this essay was your project, but that was mine—trying to make you enjoy your life.”

“This essay is both of our projects, Fiyero,” you said. “Besides, I don’t think Doctor Dillamond will accept your bar graph of all the times I laughed at you making a fool of yourself.” You frowned. “Or would it be a line graph because it’s over time? Or maybe it could be—”

“Alright,” he interrupted. “You’re going into hypotheticals on my joke. That’s clearly the sign that we need to call it a day.”

“…Fine,” you reneged. “But it’s just a break, not calling it a day. And I get to finish proofreading the rest of the essay when we get back.”

“A compromise,” Fiyero said. “Love it.”

You rolled your eyes as you started gathering your things. “You love everything.” 

“Eh,” he tilted his head, and you felt his eyes on you. “Most things.” 

You couldn’t help your smile, much as you tried to bite it back. “Whatever.” 

Soon enough, you and Fiyero were sitting together by the dock. You let your legs dangle over as you watched the scenery around campus—the ripple of the water, the gentle brush of the wind, the chirping birds that flew around without a care.

“Isn’t this nice?” Fiyero asked. He also had his legs over the edge, but he’d laid down against the stone. 

“You don’t have to push your relaxation propaganda so hard anymore,” you said wryly. “I’m here, aren’t I?” 

“And I’m grateful for it,” he said. “Someone that works as hard as you do deserves to relax the same amount.” 

“We’ve gone over this a thousand times—”

“I know,” he interrupted. He turned his head to smile at you. “I just have to hope that some of it sticks.” 

You rolled your eyes, once again unable to hide your smile. “And I have to hope for the same with this paper. Do you think you’ll remember any of this once we turn it in?”

“Oh, but of course. You were the one to teach it to me, after all. I could hardly forget it all.” 

“Good,” you said. “Everyone should know about Ilara Mayfair.” 

Fiyero chuckled, and you once again fell into comfortable silence. 

That was the thing that shocked you the most, you think. Not that you were beginning to like Fiyero, or that you actually liked Fiyero, or that you actually looked forward to spending time with him. It was that you were so comfortable just sitting with him in silence. 

It was very difficult to get to the silence, though. Fiyero couldn’t really stay quiet, and you didn’t know if he liked talking or the sound of his own voice. But you found it didn’t really annoy you like it used to. 

Great Oz. You really were into him. How embarrassing. 

Eventually, when the strain in your wrists and fingers from writing had finally faded, you turned your head to look at Fiyero. “I think it’s time we go back.”

He sighed. “Already?” 

“It’s been fifteen minutes,” you said. “Far longer than the breaks I usually take.” 

He opened his mouth, likely to say something of the same ‘you need to relax’ ilk, but you held up your hand. “Don’t. Just be thankful you got me away for this long.” 

Fiyero smiled, and he pulled himself up off the ground. “I always am.” 

He held his hand out, and you stared at him for a moment. “Why do you always do that?” 

“Help you up?” 

You nodded. “I can do it myself.” 

He shrugged. “I told you it was my project to make your life easier.” 

“You said it was your project to track my happiness,” you said. 

“And they go hand in hand,” he said. “I’m surprised you remember.” 

“It happened thirty minutes ago, Fiyero,” you said wryly. “Besides, I remember everything. It’s a gift.” 

Fiyero laughed, and you finally took his hand. He pulled you up and once again, you tumbled a bit too close—and again, his hand fell to your waist. He had to be doing this on purpose by now. 

“We keep finding ourselves in this position,” Fiyero mused. 

Heat flooded your cheeks like usual. “And whose fault is that?” 

“Well,” he said, tilting his head, “you’re not exactly pulling away.” 

Your mouth opened, trying to think of what words to say when your head was reeling from his mere presence. But then you saw a flash of pink in the background, and your eyes darted away from Fiyero. 

Galinda. She was distracted, talking with Pfannee and Shenshen as she went down the stairs. Oz, how did she slip your mind so easily whenever Fiyero was in your proximity? Why did you let him get this close when he was spoken for? 

You panicked—nothing less. You tore out of Fiyero’s grasp with a bit too much gumption, and then you stumbled, then you slipped, and then you fell. Fiyero called your name in shock, reaching his hand out, but it was too late. You’d plunged into the water before you could save yourself. 

The cold water instantly shocked all your senses, your eyes widening as you gasped out on instinct. Your mouth filled with water and your muscles seized up from the change in temperature—it was so much deeper than you’d imagined, and all your layers of clothing weighing you down were of no use. 

You tried your damnedest to ignore the alarm bells going off in your head as you fought against yourself, finally gathering the sense to swim. You kicked your way up to the top, gasping for air once when you breached the surface. 

You heard Fiyero yell your name again and you blinked rapidly, trying to clear the water from your eyes. When everything finally came into focus, you saw him on his knees, his coat shed and his sleeves rolled up. 

His eyes were wide as he reached his hand out, once again saying your name—this time with a certain desperation. “Are you alright?”

You tried to respond but all you could do was cough, trying to expel the water from your lungs. You took his hand and he helped pull you up onto the dock, where an exhale shuddered out of you.

“I— I am so sorry,” he stammered. It was the first time you’d ever seen him flustered, and you were too busy hacking up a lung to point it out. “Obviously I didn’t think—”

You held up your hand in lieu of saying something, as you didn’t think you could say something. 

This was so stupid, and it was something that never would have happened before you and Fiyero started working together. Your paper was due in two days, you’d only just finished the draft, you still had so much proofreading and rewriting to do, and instead, you were here on the docks soaked to the bone. 

And you found yourself laughing. 

“Oh, Oz,” Fiyero said. “You’ve lost it.” 

You couldn’t refute it, because you kept laughing. You could feel the eyes of your classmates on you, could hear them whispering to each other—likely making fun of you—and it only made you laugh harder. 

“Are—” Fiyero chuckled nervously as he said your name, “are you okay?” 

“I’m soaked,” you got out through your laughs. “And everyone saw me fall into the water. I’m a fool, Fiyero!” 

He was still staring at you in that careful way, as if you were made of glass. “I can’t tell if you’re mad or not.” 

“Oh, Fiyero.” You wiped the trailing water off of your face and wrapped your arms around him. You felt him freeze beneath you for the slightest moment—it had to have been the last thing he expected you to do. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” Fiyero returned the hug, his movements still unsure. He didn’t seem to care that you were getting him wet, just about your wellbeing. “What— what for, exactly?” 

For a moment, you couldn’t look away. His blue eyes were meant to enrapture, his soft lips typically an invitation sealed with a smirk. But for once, Fiyero looked genuine—he wasn’t putting on a performance, or trying to seduce anyone who looked at him. He was genuinely sorry, genuinely confused. It only made you laugh again.

“What for, indeed.” A higher voice pierced through the air, and you separated from Fiyero immediately. Galinda, to no surprise, had found her way over to the chaos you’d created, her compatriots flanking her on either side. She smiled at you brightly, but her whole demeanor was like a violin string pulled taut. 

“Galinda,” Fiyero said. “Lovely to see you.” He didn’t seem half as shocked as you at her appearance, but his words fell flat. 

“And you as well, dearest.” Her smile turned sickly sweet as she shifted her attention to Fiyero momentarily, taking the opportunity to lace her fingers with his and pull him into a kiss. He pulled away first, but if it affected Galinda, she didn’t let it show when she looked back at you. She batted her eyelashes as she said your name incorrectly. “What was it you were saying?” 

The sudden combination of cottonmouth and sour guilt creeping up your throat didn’t really help your already flustered state. She knew what she was doing—but you did too, didn’t you? 

She was with Fiyero. You knew that. And though Fiyero danced across the line, you took his hand every time he offered. 

“I—” you cleared your throat, attempting a casual smile of your own. “Just that I know why Doctor Dillamond put us together.”

“Excellent,” Fiyero said. “Off-topic, but excellent— are you sure you didn’t hit your head down there?” 

“Perhaps you should go to the nurse,” Galinda said. “I’m sure Shenshen could—” 

“I’ll be fine,” you interrupted, your smile tightening ever so slightly. You looked at Fiyero. “Meet me at the library tonight, and bring coffee. We’re finishing this project tonight. 

“Of course,” he nodded.  

You nodded as well, and you started to go. Galinda’s gaze was sugary sweet poison, and you couldn’t take the weight of it anymore. 

“Wait,” Fiyero spoke up. 

You stopped against your better judgment, and he let go of Galinda’s hand to take his jacket off. He moved closer to you and wrapped it around you. His touch, light but certain, lingered on your shoulders once he’d finished adjusting it, and his gaze stayed on yours 

“Until you can change,” he said. 

“...Thank you,” you said. 

Galinda cleared her throat extremely loudly, her taut smile back. You remembered yourself and stepped away from Fiyero. 

“I’ll see you tonight,” you said, already starting on your way. You wouldn’t let him stop you again. 

“Tonight,” he agreed, bowing his head in parting. 

You only glanced back once you were by the stairs. When you did, you saw Galinda speaking rapidly to Fiyero—you were too far away to hear anything, but she didn’t look happy. When your gaze drifted to him, you found he was already looking at you. Almost subconsciously, you tugged his jacket tighter around you. When you realized what you were doing, you stopped. You averted your eyes immediately and hurried up the stairs. 

You weren’t out of breath from exertion. 

[millimononym]

NOOOO IT GETS WORSE??? 💀 everyone please draw as much fetish art as you want just to piss off solar sands and people like him specifically

genuinely one of the most mind bogglingly stupid people on the internet

[millersfinest]

untethered³ | e.w

00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader

wc: 8.1k

series: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three (you’re here!), chapter four , chapter five

blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.

cw: +18, lmao flip phones, r and ellie NOT beating the cheating allegations, more use of y/n then i would prefer, she/her pronouns, afab anatomy mentioned, some vulgar language, fuckgirl!ellie (kind of), the millers, r is a writer (she doesn’t write much in this ch wink wink), dina being a bitch, more horndog ellie, r being a little self-deprecating, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, jealous ellie, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, r is still very jealous of cat, hella angst, rich!abby (one of r’s evil exes), emotional cheating (from ellie), r using abby for sex, repressed emotions, crazy mature chapter (wasn’t intentional lmao)

note: lmao guys, i just wanna say as i proceed with this series… i do not agree w cheating on your partners DONT DO IT. don’t be like ellie (or the reader), it hurts people’s feelings and it’s just not worth it. i hope i tagged everyone who wanted to to be. bisous little lesbians/sapphics in my phone <3 please, enjoy this dramatic ass chapter x

Normally, you wouldn’t be so pliant with Abigail—letting her hands drift toward the small of your back. Clearly, expressing her attraction, because she lost that privilege a while ago. But, you were weakened. And with the burning dark irises of an old friend into the back of your frame, you couldn’t help but let her. It was like she was some sort of cloak of invisibility. Some made up thing in your head ease your spirits.

You met Abby about a year ago, 2004, at some high profile event your agent made you go to. Isa introduced you as an aspiring author to anyone that she could, getting your name out there—which was a good thing, but horribly embarrassing at the time.

Abby was there with her dad, a well-known general surgeon in the city; when she was still in medical school. Wanting someone to talk to, you offered her a drink; a flute of expensive champagne. You didn’t hide your attraction to her, but you approached her with an open mind. Fortunately for you, the night consisted of flirting and great conversation. She was smart, and you loved smart women.

Give or take a few months, you withstand her busy schedule—dating each other, giving only a sliver of intention to one another. You weren’t sure what you wanted, but what you did know is that you couldn’t stand flakiness. Abby began to flake on you a lot; whether it was for her friends or work or school. For work and school you understood, but even then there were days you spent laying around each other completing your priorities. Somehow in the midst of your temporary romance, she began to cast you aside. Maybe it was because you weren’t drowning in money like she was. Or, she just didn’t like you—both were awful options.

Taking the lead, because you’d rather dump than be dumped, you broke up with her—she then hit you with: we weren’t in a relationship. Which was rough on the ears and heart. That was the first time you actually tried with someone in a long time, and she fucked it up. You learned your lesson, though.

The two of you didn’t speak for a few months, but then you called her on a very lonely night, begging for warmth. And, ever since then, it’s been off and on—you playing hard to get and her playing wanting to have.

In the bar, with your hand clutching your cold, cheap cocktail, you walked with her in the direction of Ellie. Abby had her eyes set on her friend group, so she didn’t realize you were slowing down. “I’ll catch up with you…”

“Oh—“ She looked down, seeing the table of three practically gawking at her. Abby made a face that was unreadable. “Don’t make me have to come and find you.” She purred in your ear, slipping her arm from around your shoulders. Abby was such a show off when she wanted to be, which was more often than not.

An uncomfortable smile rested on your lips, hand waving, shortly, to the three sat at the rocky table. Ellie looked completely taken aback, leaning forward on her elbows. “Who the fuck was that?” Ellie whispered as you slipped into the seat she saved for you. Her jacket was placed on the back of your seat, holding it for you.

“Hey, y/n!” Jesse spoke, grinning ear to ear, leaning back in his wooden chair.

“y/n,” Dina said, plastering a fake smile on her glossy lips.

Jesse snickered, taking a sip of his beer. “Is that all you? Goddamn.”

“She’s just a friend from New York…” You waved a hand, dismissively.

“We just watched her feel you up and buy you a drink. Some friend she is.” Ellie countered, glancing over her shoulder at the tall, muscular blonde sitting with her friends. And, weirdly enough, Abby had her eyes on her, too.

You scoffed, holding up a hand. “Okay, she didn’t feel me up. Just forget it.” Shaking your head, you replaced that stern look on your face with a smile. “Anyway, how are you guys? It’s been a long time.” You wrap your lips around the straw sticking out of your drink. The sweet tangy flavor of the alcohol mixed with cranberry juice spreading over your tongue—easing your worries.

He glanced at Ellie, briefly. So fast, you almost missed it. Almost. “I’m doing good. Just moved into my new place in Boston. How about you, Dina?” Jesse raised an eyebrow, nudging her arm.

She stirred the ice in her water with her straw, raising a thick eyebrow. “I’m great.” Dina responded, simply.

��Great.” You say, sipping your drink, awkwardly.

There was silence between the four of you that could only be classified as awkward, uncomfortable and tense. Ellie boring her big eyes into the side of your face as you, purposely, ignored her. Dina no longer having a reason to speak because of your sudden appearance. And, Jesse, well… He was normal. If anything he was trying to fight the demon that was the awkward silence.

Ellie shook her head, a scoff falling from her lips. Abruptly, she stood up, walking over to the bar. Even though her beer was barely touched. “What’s wrong with her?” You mutter, watching her get up. She motioned for the bartender, and you watched them fill up a shot glass. Her slender frame leaned over the bar top, on her toes. Pale skin exposed between the belt holding up her jeans and the hem of her shirt. You couldn’t help but let your eyes linger there—places you’ve touched with the pads of your fingers…

“I don’t know… But, I’m curious. Be right back.” Jesse stood to his feet, taking his beer with him. Leaving, none other than, you and Dina left alone.

Chewing your lip, you slide your drink forward, looking her in the eye. Perhaps, it was the liquid courage settling in your muscles. “Things shouldn’t be weird between us… Ellie wanted me here.” You felt the need to defend your place. Ever since that day, she always seen you as some predatory figure—now, that you think of it… She had even before that day. Just did a better job at hiding it. You were the predatory animal chasing over your gullible and prancing prey—Ellie

“Yeah, and sometimes she doesn’t know what’s good for her. So… I’m sure she did.”

Ouch.

You physically coiled at her words. A dry, pissed scoff fell from your lips. “Fuck you, Dina.” You cursed, leaning back in your chair. Ellie could never do wrong in her eyes—it was obnoxious. Did she have a crush on her or something?

She dryly laughed, shaking her head. “Fuck me?” Dina raised an eyebrow. “Look at her!” She jutted her brown eyes in her direction. “Every time you’re around, she ends up looking that. A wilted fucking flower.” She scolded you, causing you to follow her eyes. Jesse spoke to her with intent eyes. Ellie ran her hands through her hair, eyes shifting side to side. You didn’t know what they were talking about, but it seemed serious. “Just face it, y/n… You’re the common denominator here.”

The common denominator. What an interesting choice of words.

“She’d probably have a better night if you just leave. Go home. Let blondie over there take you home… Or a taxi. I don’t care.” Dina turned her face from you, like you were nothing.

Your hands began to shake and tremble from her words. The muscles in your face twitched and heated up like a furnace—eyes welling up with pained tears. You sniffled, standing up from your chair. Trying every which way not to make a fuss—saving face. She was always such a bitch! So, instead, you rushed to the bathroom with the stiffest posture. Heels stalking by Ellie and Jesse with eyes set on the women’s restroom to unleash your fury.

It was like a gust of wind passing her, Ellie’s words trailed as she unloaded onto Jesse about where her minds been. He was, probably, the only person she could even share it with. Dina didn’t like you very much, she was too emotionally involved. Jesse wasn’t bias and could give her proper advice—it was just up to Ellie if she wanted to follow it or not.

Ellie confessed that the feelings she had for you hadn’t gone away. Something he already knew. But she explained it like an act of a possession—as if the softness of your skin, the beauty of your features, the smell that exuded from you was a spooky presence that just won’t leave her alone. A poltergeist. It was becoming a carnal need the more she saw you.

But what about Cat?

What about her?

Then, on cue, you passed her. Ellie only caught a glimpse of your face. Jaw trembling, the sound of your emotional hiccups. Immediately, her olive eyes shifted to the young woman left at the table. She clenched her jaw, shaking her in disapproval. “Jesse, can you get a fucking handle on her?”

“Easy, Ellie. Don’t talk about her like that. She’s just looking out for you— or trying to.” He told, shifting on his feet. “…And she’s pregnant.”

Her eyes widened. “What?!” Jesse motioned for her to whisper.

“Shh! I wasn’t supposed to say anything. Dina’ll kill me.”

“You guys aren’t even together—“ Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. “Congratulations.” She intoned, running her hand through her hand. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna go check on—“

“Yeah, go ahead. I’ll talk to Dina.”

Meanwhile, you paced around the single person bathroom. Purse thrown to the ground, makeup smudged down your cheeks. Fists clenched at your sides, and every few minutes pounding a spot on your thigh that inflicted enough pain to briefly distract you from the pain inflicted on your heart. Dina doesn’t understand! You’re not a bad person for what happened that day. When will Ellie get the heat for what happened? Why does it always have to be you? It was always your fault.

So much time has passed, meaning you’ve thought about the altercation for a long time. Hell, it was all you thought about at times. You should’ve never put your hands on Ellie that way—you knew that. But, she shouldn’t have pushed you to do it either. That was her mistake. Pushing and prodding at someone she claimed to love. Ellie was aware of that, too. She wrote about it in that letter she hand delivered on her eighteenth birthday.

Wringing your hands out, you heaved. Emotions still weighing heavy on your heart. Her words cut you like a knife—triggering you. Before you met Tommy and Maria Miller, life was so much harder. Everything was your fault and your birth parents—and the numerous foster parents that you had—made sure that you knew that. It wasn’t fair then, and it wasn’t fair now.

What stopped your progressing thoughts was the gentle call of your name, and a soft knock. It was Ellie.

“Go away!” You sniffled, leaning over the sticky sink to get a look at your appearance. It was a tragedy.

“Please, just let me in. I don’t know what Dina said… But, I’m sure it was fucked up— look, she has her reasons.”

“She has her reasons—?!” You exclaim, looking at the door through the reflection.

“But that doesn’t make it right. I know.” You heard her lean against the door. “Please, y/n.”

Wiping your face, you sighed. Sniffling, you walked over to unlock the door, gulping. “It’s unlocked…” You spoke, weakly. Positioning yourself with your back against the sink, you crossed your arms. Watching her push inside the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Ellie pressed her back against the door, observing you with the softest pair of green eyes you’ve ever seen. It was charming. Through her thick eyelashes, pelvis leaning forward—like she was a child in trouble.

“I’m so sorry about Dina. I should’ve never invited you… I just thought things would be different.” She frowned, fiddling with her fingers in front of her body. Her fingernails had chipped black nail polish on them; focusing on that was easier than focusing on her.

“Well…” You dryly chuckled. “You thought wrong.” Slowly, you drag your eyes from her hands, to her face—avoiding her eyes, though. “Apparently, you’d be better off if I left… Or died; if it were Dina’s way.” Your voice trembled, tears falling from the corners of your eyes. Dina didn’t tell you to die, but that’s what her tone told you. All you were doing was existing. If that’s what stressed Ellie out then… Fuck. Maybe you should just croak, huh?

Ellie ran her hands over her face, taking quick steps towards you. “Fuck— I don’t know why she said that.” Her hand ran through her straight hair, frustrated at herself and Dina. “I—… I do want you here. She doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about.” She reaches a hand out for you, but you flinch. There was a slight height difference to the pair of you—your heels caused you to look down at her. But, you weren’t looking down on her.

She was close enough for you to notice the orange-brown flecks in her irises. The ones you missed… So much, and desired wholly. However, you pushed yourself into the ceramic sink, fighting temptation. “Don’t tell me you actually believe what she said?” Her doe eyes looked up at you, demanding a response.

“I don’t know… It’s more than that, Ellie.” You analyze her features as inconspicuously as you could—which wasn’t possible. She noticed everything because she was doing the same thing.

Your bodies drew to each other like the opposite sides of conjoined magnets. Eyes intertwining and overcoming like they always did. Tensions were high, and you were in an enclosed space—your stomach rumbled with anticipation. “Tell me what it is, then.” The feeling of her fingers sliding up the curve of your elbow caused you huff, moving to the toilet to sit down. Cold air replacing where her fingers attempted to tether to you.

Ellie sighed, bunching her hand into a fist at her side. She knew what she was doing—after all, she was a pusher. It was hard to identify when to stop.

You dropped your head into your hands, forcing even breath from your lips. “It’s just… Old shit, okay? Dina struck a nerve.” You glanced at her through your hands, lips quivering.

Ellie took your previous spot, pondering. She knew about your life before your parents—how awful those people treated you; and she couldn’t understand why. You were a scorned person, like most of the kids you grew up with, but underneath it all you were soft. She’s witnessed that softness. And she will regret it for the rest of her life that she was the one to pull you from that that—all for dumb proof of trauma.

She realized too late that she was never alone in that traumatic suffering of the adoption system. After that day, she never wanted to see you hurt like that again. Or at all. Ellie wanted to make everything up to you.

Seeing those tears staining your cheeks; she wanted to kiss it better.

“I’ll talk to her.” The words fled from her mouth. Her old converse squeaked toward you, squatting before your sat figure on the filthy toilet. You turned your head, shutting your eyes and shivering at the thought of her. “Hey,” Her fingers grazed your jaw, pulling your eyes into her line of sight. “I will. She crossed the line— this isn’t my favorite version of you.” Her eyebrows deepened, pressing her lips into a firm line. She wanted to be level with you—not above or below.

Those words were music to your ears. Supple in its raspiness. The warm touch of her fingers on your face, you leaned into her hand. She had a favorite version of you? You reached up, gently gripping her wrist to pull it from you. Ellie shouldn’t have been touching you like this. But, even so, your bodies somehow gravitated toward one another. Eyes staring at each others parted lips, wanting. Needing. Her hand bracing on your thigh, pulling herself closer until your lips met.

Soft and forbidden. You gasped against her mouth, pulling away for a brief moment. Her olive eyes were pleading, and you just couldn’t say no. Being a victim of your flesh, your hand found its way to the back of her neck to pull her lips flush to yours. Mixed whines coming from the both of you; lips merging and meshing together. Creating something beautiful.

Every time you were physical with someone they were missing something. This was it! The passion, the history—the things that matter. The fucking chemistry; it was all there with Ellie. And, deep down, you knew that it was the only place you were going to find it.

She pushed into you, being guided by her carnal desire. Whining and growling into your mouth. Hands gripping at your hips, and the side of your backside. Ellie was hooked under a spell you concocted—some aphrodisiac that exuded from you. And she wanted to breathe more of you in until she couldn’t anymore. She was gluttonous.

Breaking her trance was a rough knock on the bathroom door. The two of you basically jumped apart; you falling into the toilet, nearly touching the water, her falling on the floor. Some of the glitter on your lips had rubbed off onto hers—it looked nice on her, but that was besides the point.

“Some people need to piss! Get out of the fucking bathroom!” Some heavy handed woman exclaimed from the other side.

A smile spread on her lips, hazy eyes watching as you pulled yourself up. “Fuck, Ellie. Why are you smiling?” You walk to the mirror, taking a look at yourself. You and Ellie had just kissed. The same Ellie who’s girlfriend is waiting for her back at the guesthouse. The pressure was already hitting you like a ton of bricks—Ellie was right, you had a terrible poker face. How could you forget about this? “Can you hand me that?” You pointed to the purse beside her.

She chuckled, standing up from the floor. Your purse was in her hand as she walked up behind you, handing it over. Her other snaking around your hips—clearly, still overcome. Taking the purse, you smack her hand away. “Enough!” You scold, deepening your eyebrows. She pouted, crossing her arms. Leaning her back against the wall, shutting her eyes. But it was soon replaced with a smirk.

Your fingers rummaged through your purse for your lipgloss. “This didn’t happen… This never happened…” You muttered to yourself. Once you found the sparkling tube, you began to apply it like a nervous tick. “I still don’t know what you keep finding so funny— nobody can find out about this, Ellie.” You turn to her, dropping your lipgloss back into your purse. “What just happened isn’t fucking funny—“

You were a homewrecker, a thief of girlfriends—watch out New York!

“You’re spiraling.”

“Yeah, and I have every reason to. This isn’t me. I’m not this person. You have a girlfriend!”

Ellie watched you ramble with a look of in awe in her eyes—you were fucked, and so was she. “I remember…” She couldn’t compel herself to care about the repercussions of hr actions; Ellie just wanted you. Even more now than before. She was given an inch, and she was ready to take a mile. Perhaps, longer if that was possible. Your ethics only made her want you more.

The glitter on her lips distracted you, causing you to reach your thumbs near her lips to wipe away the signs of you. Her wide eyes looked up at you, hands wrapping around your wrists. Where did she learn this type of behavior from? VHS porn?“Ellie, will you quit it?!” You stomped your foot, squeezing your eyes. “Fuck me.” You whisper to yourself, adjusting your purse.

“I’ll see you at home…” You mutter, placing your hand on the door handle.

“Am I not driving you?”

“No. You’re gonna stay here, mingle—fuck, I don’t care.” You shook your head. “Abby’s gonna take me home.” The words rushed from your lips because you were thinking and speaking at the same time. You needed an alibi and that’s what Abby was going to be.

The auburn-haired woman rolled her eyes, scoffing under her breath. Jealousy peaking inside of her like it did earlier. “Abby. Abby… The buff blonde you walked into the bar with— the one who was feelin’ you up.” She popped the p sound, nodding her head with searching eyes.

“She wasn’t feeling me up. I don’t think you know what feeling up looks like.”

“Show me, then.”

Your jaw almost dropped from its hinges, gasping at the woman before you. She was shameless, and you were the complete opposite—it was a recipe for disaster. “Like I said… I’ll see you at home.” You opened the door, slipping through to allow her some privacy. The people must’ve opted for the men’s restroom. Fucking freak. You thought, fighting the amused smile off your lips.

Adjusting your top, you approached Abby’s booth. She was surrounded by familiar faces—you knew them-ish. “Abs, can I talk to you for a second?” She looked up at you, blinking with slight confusion at your state.

“Oh, hi, y/n!” A short-haired woman grinned, wiggling her fingers at you.

You smiled at her, while Abby shimmied out of the booth. Taking her hand, you led her away from her friends, keeping her large hand in yours as you began to speak. “I know it’s early, but could you take me home? Like, now?”

She deepened her eyebrows, a hand dropping to your face, wiping at the mascara stains that had run down your cheeks. “Are these tears?” She bunched her eyebrows, gripping your chin and moving your head side to side. “I saw you run to the bathroom—“

“It’s not important, all right?” Your eyes peer up at the blonde woman, pressing your lips into a line. Pleading and batting your eyes at her—you really wanted to go home. And you weren’t necessarily doing it for Dina, it was more so because of her. As well as the fact that you had just made out with a woman who was spoken for. Whose girlfriend who is only ten minutes away, and who also offered to get champagne for Thanksgiving after you mentioned its absence. It was currently, probably, chilling in the fridge as all of this unfolded.

While you semi-sensually begged the woman to drive you home in her Jaguar, Ellie had gotten herself together in the bathroom. After you left, she released a joyful laugh once the door shut behind you. As if she had finished with making out with the hottest girl in school—very teenage-like. Her cheeks were flushed, blushing a warm mahogany through her freckles. You wanted her just as much as she wanted you; the kid proved that much.

But, then, a pang of guilt settled in the pit of her stomach. A fragment. Very small and minuscule.

It wasn’t right away; Ellie was certain that you thought of her to be cold based on how she was handling the situation. She had a girlfriend and found the situation amusing? You’re right—nothing was funny about what happened before you fell into the toilet and before she fell onto the floor. The both of you had managed to dig yourselves into a hole that she didn’t want to get out of. And she was sure you felt the same—she hoped you felt the same. Holes were fun, right?

Ellie wanted to keep digging deeper, and deeper, and deeper. She wanted to envelop herself with you, just like she used to. However, this time, she wasn’t planning on letting you go.

Cat was just something—someone she had to deal with in the meantime. She’s gonna fix it… Ellie just doesn’t know how, right now. She can’t think straight. Pun intended.

Leaving the bathroom, she checked her cell. Noticing the few messages her girlfriend had left her during the short period of time she had you to herself. Her avoidant nature caused her to skim them, then slap her phone shut.

“Everything good?” Jesse questioned, watching as she approached the table.

Ellie shoved her phone into her front pocket. “Yeah… Everything’s fine.” Her olive eyes averted to Dina. “Dude…?” She squinted her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Els. I went too far, I know.”

“I’m glad you know.” She sat in her chair, glancing over at you talking to the buff blonde. “What you said was fucked up, and I should be more mad at you, right now…”

She sighed, pouting her lips. “Well, thank you for your mercy, sire.” A smile creeped onto her lips.

“Dina,” Ellie narrowed her eyes, shaking her head.

Jesse side-eyed her, pressing his lips into an unimpressed line. She looked over at him, lips parting. “Just tryin’ to lighten up the mood. Excuse me.” Dina deepened her eyebrows, sliding down in her chair.

Ellie chortled, shaking her head once more, making sure to swing it far to get a glance at you. She watched you follow Abby back to her booth, telling them that you were leaving. Her hand guiding you, rubbing circles on the back of your hand. Fuck, that should’ve been Ellie. She hated watching you lean into her like that—shrinking yourself. That wasn’t you.

You were bold, opinionated, and despite your strict upbringing, you never shrunk. If anything, Maria and Tommy’s parenting gave you confidence. That used to intimidate Ellie, but it didn’t anymore. It influenced her.

As you walked out with Abby, Ellie gave an awkward wave, but you snapped your head in the other direction. You needed to clean your pallet, and that’s exactly what you were planning to do in that shiny black Jaguar.

When the door opened, the brisk, autumn air hit you, cooling your body down. But your mind was still set on using Abby as a cleanser—a handkerchief to wipe you of your mistakes.

You feigned a straightforward destination, giving her the address of your childhood home. But, halfway, you told her to pull over onto a dark dirt path. She made a joke, asking: Is this where you kill me and steal my car?

And you respond, full of need: I don’t want your stupid fucking car. I want you. Launching yourself over the center console, wrapping your arms around her face. You swing one of your legs over to straddle her in the driver’s seat. Hips grinding against her, shoving your tongue down her throat like she was going to leave you. Although, she wasn’t going anywhere—not with you on her lap, anyway.

Abby groaned into your mouth, gripping your ass over your jeans, pushing you harder against her. Messily, you begin to trail your lips down her jaw, toward the softness of her neck. Urgently nibbling at her skin. “Fuck, you’re eager…” Abby muttered through her heavy breathing. “I like this version of you.”

This isn’t my favorite version of you. Ellie’s voice echoed in your head. It frustrated you.

Warmth built up under the crotch of your jeans; the thick seam doing very little for the pleasure you wanted. “Please, Abby…” You breathed into her ear, tugging at the silver ring through her cartilage. “Touch me.” Reaching for her hand, you place between your legs, cupping her hand as she groped you. Meeting her eyes, you taunted her, chewing on your bottom lip.

The blonde didn’t hesitate, unbuttoning your jeans and shoving her hand inside. She was always quick to give rather than receive—listening to any command you spoke. As the pads of her fingers contact with where you needed her the most, you sighed. “You’re so wet for me already…”

It was debatable whether it was for her or not. With your eyes squeezed shut, you imagined the earthy, olive eyes of your past lover. The softness of the her lips. The desperation in which she put her all into pleasing you—it was experienced before. But, at that point, you were amateurs. So much has changed since then. You were curious how much, though. “All for you.” You whined, rocking your hips against her hand. Lying through your teeth.

She pressed two fingers into you, pushing a moan from your throat. Hands gripping her shoulders, bracing your weight. You imagined them to be her fingers curling deep inside of you—pulling sounds from you like a puppeteer.

You were worser than you thought.

Abby was supposed to be a pallet cleanser, but instead she was just a vessel for your horny fantasies.

The palm of her hand rubbed against your clit, pushing you closer to an edge you wanted to fall off of. A tightness built in the pit of your stomach—burning like a prosperous flame; standing by to erupt. “Ah… Fuck, yes!” You lewdly affirmed, fingers gripping the roots of her hair, back arching into her. The smell of lavender shampoo wafting into your nose from how close you were.

Ellie would never wash her hair with lavender shampoo. She stuck to sweeter, muskier smells. The one’s you liked.

Your legs trembled around her hips, jolting with every stroke and thrust. Her ministrations intensifying causing the sounds from your lips to get louder, laced with desire. “Abby,” You trembled with a warning tone. “I’m g—gonna… Fuck, I’m comi—“ Your choppy words are cut off with the snapping of a band in your stomach—spreading over you like a brisk gust of wind. Shocking your body into a brief state of paralysis against her strong frame.

She coax’s you through your orgasm, with that same come hither motion that got you there to begin with. Although, she was so quiet. That’s when clarity hit you, as you shakily rocked against her hand. Reaching down, you grip her wrist, kissing the pressure point under her ear. “Can you check the time f’me?” You sweetly ask, still subtly, rutting against her.

Abby checked the watch on her wrist. “Eleven-something.” She hummed into your neck.

“Eleven-somethin’, huh?” You tease, lifting off her, trying to settle back into the passenger seat. “I should probably get home…” You zipped and buttoned your pants. Normally, you’d be eager to return the favor, but your plan didn’t work—and, frankly, that irritated you. That nerdy, auburn-haired, freckled woman, that you knew so well, had burrowed herself under your skin already. It was a recipe for disaster.

There was a twitch in Abby’s brow at your sudden departure from her. She felt that bite of coldness; it was something she wasn’t used to. Nonetheless, she drove you home. With you leaning on the window, watching dark, shedding trees pass you by. All the way until you felt that familiar shift from side to side as you cruised over the gravel that led to your childhood home.

“How long are you gonna be here for?” You asked as she pulled to a stop, where Ellie’s car was previously parked. It was out of courtesy to wonder; these parts of town wasn’t really for people like her.

“Until the end of the week, then back to work.” She turned toward you, pushing her hair behind her ear. “When am I gonna see you again?” Record scratch. Abby Anderson has never asked you that. She was always aloof and carefree. I’m too busy. Let me check my schedule.

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your lips. “I’m really tying to spend some time with my family, but— uhm… I���ll call you, okay?” Leaning over the console, you place a lush smooch on her lips—riding on the confidence from her lack thereof.

Getting out of her expensive car, you adjust your clothing before walking into your house. Thankfully, the lights were off, meaning your parents were asleep. Thank, God. You looked awful, and you preferred not to be questioned on your state, Ellie’s whereabouts, and who took you home.

Gently, you shut the door behind you, keys jiggling in your hand. Slipping out of your heels, you tiptoed toward the fridge just to prove something to yourself. The white light from the fridge illuminated your deadpanned expression as two tall bottles of champagne sat on the second shelf. Nobody likes champagne that much. You rolled your eyes, scoffing under your breath.

Cat didn’t deserve any of what happened tonight, and you hated that.

When you got to your bedroom, you wasted no time to peel the clothes from your body. Falling atop of your mattress like a starfish. Before you slipped under the covers, you pulled your laptop onto your stomach to log into your MySpace. There was a red notification on your activity icon. When you click on it, StarlightWilliams had added you back—you were mutuals now. The pads of your fingers touched your lips, remembering the softness of hers from that moment in the bathroom. The pressure of her slender fingers gripping your sides—wistfully you sighed, slumping your head against the fluffy pillows and stuffed animals against your headboard.

Suddenly, your computer makes a sound—a ping. You sit up, squinting at the incoming notification.

kit_cat79 wants to be your friend!

What a coincidence. The website exposes whether you were online or not—you couldn’t hide from her. So, you decided to add her back. Cat’s picture was of her with her tongue out, dark bangs styled to the side. You didn’t realize that she had a tongue piercing—could she get any cooler? Maybe you should get a tongue piercing.

Her mood hadn’t been recently updated, but it was: Optimistic.

Her bio didn’t over explain much, but said more than her freckled counterpart: my name is cat and i do tattoo’s !! message me for inquiries (or ur a loser). Your eyes and cursor skimmed her account, not paying attention to the smaller details. Quickly, you navigated to the pictures and videos. There were some pieces of her work, candids of Ellie, pictures of her at band shows—

kit_cat79: hey… i know it’s late, but that was you who just got back, right?

The messages appeared at the bottom left corner of the screen, blinking green.

BugsWritersRoom: Hey, yeah. That was me…

Duh.

kit_cat79: i thought you went with ellie in her truck. also… where is she? she’s not answering my texts.

Was she worried about her? Or was her questioning coming from a place of distrust? Or, a secret third option... you had a bad case of paranoia.

BugsWritersRoom: She’s still at TB. I’m sure she’s just distracted catching up with Jesse and Dina.

kit_cat79: oh…

kit_cat79: that was some car you pulled up in...

She was wanting to start conversation, but you were too tired. You didn’t want to think about, or talk to another person about Abby. Let alone, talk about her with Cat. No offense. Sleep is the only time when your mind was going to finally rest, and you can resume thinking tomorrow.

Leaving her message on seen, you shut your laptop, pushing it to the side. You took Cat’s message as a sign to shut it down, reaching to click your lamp off.

You allowed sleep to take over, cuddling into your pillows as if it were a body. Hitching your leg over it, tugging it to your chest. Could you have been more evident in your loneliness? In your restless dreams, your brain scoured for something to show you. Something relevant, of course.

Olive eyes, freckles, prominent beauty mark—it was obvious what images it was looking for. Ellie.

By the time the sun lingered on the horizon, a tragic alarming song sang in unison to wake you—the sound of your ancient alarm, and the sound of the rooster sat atop of the chicken coop. Groaning into the pillow you held, squinting your eyes open. It had pulled you from a dream that was… Certainly, a dream. It was untoward, lewd; just straight up nasty.

There was a wetness between your legs that was the first to get your attention. Out of shameful curiosity, you reached your hand under your shorts; hoping it wasn’t your period suprising you. Pulling your fingers out, there was an absence of the dark hue that was a symbol of your menstrual cycle. It was fairly clear, shiny, and slick. You were a victim of a wet dream. How juvenile.

The sight of it only made your hornier. So, while you still had time, you jumped for one of the bags you brought. You were expected for morning chores, but there was always time to rub one out.

Taking the battery-powered silver bullet from you bag, you attempt to switch it on but it doesn’t respond. You even switch the batteries around, blowing into the port. “Come on…” You complain, but it still it doesn’t adhere to you.

You groan, falling back into your pillows. There was nothing wrong with going old school, but you were a creature of habit.

Sliding your hand down your body, you slip under your shorts and underwear. It didn’t take long for you to completely rouse yourself, blinking your eyes shut to fall into your imagination. Usually, the best material was your most recent hookup—or some celebrity crush that you couldn’t get over.

The movement of your finger mirrored a strong blonde who always aimed to please you. You could imagine yourself gripping her long, silky hair, pushing her into your pussy—devouring you. Feeling her hands gripping your thighs, anchoring them to the mattress.

You relished in the feeling that was slowly washing over you. So much so that when the image of blonde hair began to fade and be replaced by short auburn strands, you barely noticed. Subconsciously, replicating the dream that kept you snug as a bug all through the night.

Your ministrations quickened as you neared finality. Bottom lip slipping between your teeth. Soft, repressed moans sneaking through them as your hand clutched your breast, thumbing your sensitive nipple. The serotonin levels increasing with every swipe and slide. Fuck, El—

Downstairs, the artist peeled dried paint from her fingers, waiting for you. Staying out late knowing she had to get up for chores was a huge mistake. There were many mistakes that happened last night. Another being, ignoring Cat’s messages. Ellie pulled into the driveway not too much later than you—it was nearing one o’clock.

When she entered the guesthouse, shrugging off her jacket—with a mind busier than New York City herself—Cat was found in the small living room. With her thin eyebrows bunched together and her arms crossed over her chest. Dressed in nothing but a fitted tank top and cheeky underwear.

Ellie had looked at her with a stressed look, “What are you still doing up?” Walking past her to the bedroom to undress and unwind. Cat scoffed, following her to the bedroom. Slippered feet stomping behind the artist.

“What am I doing up?!” She chided, twitching toward her. “I’ve been texting you all night, Ellie. You couldn’t respond to one?”

The freckled woman plopped onto her side of the bed, kicking off her shoes. She pretty much saw the messages as they were coming in; Ellie just didn’t have the nerve to respond. She didn’t feel like it. Not after what happened in the bathroom—she couldn’t come back from that. Hell, she didn’t want to come back from that. The only image replaying in her mind was your lips on hers. Your hands imbedded in her hair. The wanton sounds coming from you that she wanted to hear on again, and again, and again. That feeling of being between your legs...

And, let’s not even get into how it felt to see you leave with Abby. That ruined her whole night. Not even Jesse could cheer her up.

She ran a hand through her hair, looking over her shoulder with a tired expression. “Babe, I’m sorry, okay?” She began, standing to her feet to remove her jeans. “We just got too carried away talkin’ and whatnot.” Walking to the bathroom in the bedroom, she shed her shirt from her body. Ellie found it too easy to lie—she’s always been good at it. And, Cat was pretty gullible. But she had to throw a monkey wrench in there to really calm her down.

“Turns out… Jesse got Dina pregnant.”

“What?”

She turned on the shower, then peaked out of the doorway. “Yeah, how crazy is that?”

The tattooed girl fell onto the edge of the bed, eyes casting toward the ground, full of uncertainty. “Super crazy…”

Noticing the subtle dejection in her features, Ellie sighed. Leaving the doorframe as the shower ran hot in the background. She appeared before her, reaching her hand down to lift her chin. “Kitty Cat,” Her voice was soft and oh, so forgiving. “I should’ve responded to your texts— I’m an asshole. Let me make it up to you…” She sultrily offered, caressing the softness of her chin with her thumb.

And that’s what she did. Ellie made it up to her girlfriend of almost a year. By fucking her in the shower hard enough to make her forget about all of her uncertainties.

She had a long night.

This morning, she got up an hour earlier to get a better start on her sketch—she even started incorporating her oil paints. That’s what was stuck to her hands. The coloring in of her portrait of you in front of that shed. She felt the need to freeze that moment in time; where you embraced each other in the arms of company for the first time in too long. That hazardous kiss you shared in that sticky bathroom at the Tipsy Bison inspired her to color in the lines.

“I normally hear her up and movin’ around… She’s taking longer than I thought she would.” Maria commented, munching on a buttered bagel. “How long were you two out last night?”

Ellie inhaled, lifting her eyebrows in thought. “I got back around one, but y/n came back earlier than I did. She got a ride from a friend.” She shrugged, the ends of her lips curling, mischievously. “I think her name’s… Abby.” Ellie added, glancing between the two parents.

“Hm. What made her leave early—?” Tommy began to ask, but he stopped himself. He frowned, leaning his elbows on the counter, peering at the auburn-haired woman across from him. “How’s Dina doin’?”

She chuckled. “Still pissed, if that’s what you’re getting at?” Ellie went from peeling paint off her fingers, to fiddling with them. “They got into a bit of a…”

“Fight?” The blonde woman questioned, deepening her arched eyebrows. She never liked hearing about you fighting—or seeing it. That was a strictness Maria was never going to get rid of. Tommy used to get into fights a lot, finding himself locked behind iron bars at the county jail. But that was years before he moved to New York. When he still lived in Texas with Joel.

“No.” Ellie bunched her eyebrows in defense, shaking her head. “It was an argument, but it didn’t last long. I handled it.”

Steps sounded from the stairs, silencing the three. Pairs of eyes peered up the stairs, hoping that it was you stalking down the steps—but it wasn’t. When he began clearing his throat and coughing, loudly, they knew it was Joel. “Goddamnit…” Tommy rolled his eyes, slapping his hand against his thighs.

“Good mornin’ to you, too, Tommy.” Joel scoffed.

He huffed, licking his lips. Just like you did when you grew irritated—Tommy’s antics had rubbed off on you. “Is there any signs of life from my kids' room—? Because she should’ve been down here five minutes ago.” He looked to Joel before glancing at his watch. “Maria and I planned for her to teach Ellie how to do our grocery shipments.”

“Grocery shipments?” Ellie cast her earthy eyes toward Maria.

“It’s a lot of information, but I’m sure you’ll catch on just fine, Ellie.” She placed her hand atop of hers, pressing her lips into a smile. “If only your teacher could be timely…” Maria sighed.

The freckled artist stood up straight, pursing her lips. “I can go check and see if she’s up…” She offered, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’m sure she is— maybe she just needs a little nudge. I had rough time this mornin’, too.” To be frank, offering to grab you from the second floor of the house was clouded with selfish intentions. Ellie hadn’t seen your bedroom since she was seventeen. She couldn’t help but wonder if anything had changed.

And, she wanted a useful reason to talk to you.

Your parents are wondering what the hell you’re doing— also, how was our kiss from 1-10?

Hey, you’re supposed to be teaching me about grocery shipments, right now— hypothetically, would you kiss me again… Or?

She was such a loser for you; she always has been. “If you don’t mind. I’m sure she’d appreciate seeing you more than me.” Tommy chuckled, nudging his wife but she barely broke a smile. Staring her husband down with icy, blue eyes.

Ellie’s eyebrows twitched, but she decided not to interact with whatever happened there. Quickly, moving to the stairs to find you.

What she could remember about your room was the pink wallpaper and the posters. You used to be very persistent in upgrading old ones for new ones—saving the old ones in your closet. She found it amusing how you could never get over anything; you liked to collect things. As many things as possible—posters, collectors items, superhero figurines—you were an undercover geek!

The fascination you had with catwoman was insane. But, understandable.

The stairs of your home was guided by many picture frames. Pictures of you lining the walls. The bottom starting with photos of you when you still went heavy on the eyeliner and hairspray; gradually preceding with much happier images of you. The final photo being the whole family together, including Ellie. It was taken after your college graduation, in front of the house. You were sandwiched between your grinning parents while Joel and Ellie were on both ends; her sporting a timid smile, and him grinning just like his brother.

She was so proud of you that day, but didn’t dare to enunciate that how she really wanted to. At the time, the shoulder you gave her was ice cold. Brisker than the harsh weather of the east coast.

When she emerged at the top step, the first door in front of the stairs was cracked open. But that wasn’t your bedroom, that was your parents’ bedroom. Down the hall, to the right, after passing an open floor planned media space, was the guest room. Where Joel was spending his nights. A little further down that hall was your bedroom.

It was the best spot in the house. Your bedroom have the best view of the front of the house, and was far enough from the prying ears of curious parents.

Neither you or Ellie were innocent teenagers—you both couldn’t wait to get some alone time, and you couldn’t keep your hands off each other once you started. It was the perfect place for late night shenanigans.

Again, some things never change, huh?

Strolling toward your door, Ellie raises her hand to give a soft knock. But she pauses at the faint sounds coming from under your door. Breathy whines, the light rocking of your old, rickety bed frame. Could she hear just how wet you were from outside your door?

She leaned closer to the brown door, her bottom lip slotting between her teeth. Ellie wanted to be sure she was hearing correctly, of course. She heard you cursing and swearing, but nothing shocked her more than when she heard you squeak her name. “Fuck, Ellie…”

Apparently, Ellie wasn’t the only one who was overcome. Wanton sounds filled her ears like a mantra before she decided to interfere. Knock, knock! She heard you gasp.

“It’s Ellie... Your parents are gonna throw bitch-fits in T-minus five minutes if you’re not downstairs soon.” Ellie kept herself composed, using her hand to hold her weight against the wall. She heard you shuffling behind your door, cursing under your breath.

“I’ll be down in, like, five minutes!” You shout, the sound of quick maneuvering being heard from Ellie’s side of the door.

She wanted you to open the door, just to get a glimpse of that blissed out look on your face—Ellie anticipated that flustered look. Forgetting about her own blushing cheeks after hearing you say her name while touching yourself. She felt like a fucking king.

Stuffing her hands into her pockets, she walked to the media space. Lifting up CDs, VHS tapes, and eyeing thick books that haven’t been touched in years to pass the time. Fuck, Ellie—still played in her mind like a record. There wasn’t any scratching, only smooth playing; no interruptions.

When you appeared from your room, dressed in your working cowboy boots, a long-sleeve Abercrombie shirt and bootcut jeans—there was a shit-eating grin that just wouldn’t leave her face. Ellie turned around to lay her eyes on you, unable to help but ogle. “Do you have a condition that you’re not mentioning? Perhaps, a tumor—? Since you can’t help yourself when it comes to laughing…” You grumble, placing your hands on your hips.

Your words only made her smile more. The more time the two of you spent together, the more snarky you were becoming—she missed that. “Turns out, under some circumstances… I can be a morning person. Some circumstances.” She muttered, mainly to herself but she didn't mind if you heard. Ellie deliberated with herself on whether she was going to expose what she heard you say… Or, if she was going to hold onto it. Similar to how victorians put the hair of their lover’s into lockets.

“Whatever, Els.” You rolled your eyes, loosely calling her by that nickname, again. Ignoring the harshness of her eyes, you passed her to descend the wooden stairs. There was still a mindless sleepiness to you. It was charming to your past lover, as she followed behind you—floating on air. Thinking about how great of an idea it was to come back this year.

And, still, Ellie was barely harbored with guilt. Even more so when she inspected your features, intently. When her thoughts wandered into the gutters of her creative mind—spreading you wide in all of your glory.

taglist: @autisticintr0vert , @liasxeatt , @hopingforgoodblogs , @lia-winther , @macaroni676 , @tobiotruther , @anewkindofloove , @fatbootymuncher (i love your user lmao) , @maiaska

[with-my-calamitous-love]

LOVE LEFT ME LIKE THIS AND I DONT WANT TO EXIST

katsuki bakugou x reader

katsuki, japan’s number 1 hero, discovers his fiancé’s dark past and questions everything.

themes of abuse and violence. please read with discretion 🤍

part 1/2

inspired by florida!!!

all you had to do was beat the charges.

first, the body. he’d laid there, mouth foaming and blood pouring from his neck. you had checked his pulse. the deed had been done. standing over him, your eyes wandered to any means of disposal. ultimately, you decided to let them discover it.

second, the evidence. you made sure to use gloves and specifically used his favourite rocks glass, the one he’d drink out of before heading to see you. you’d leave it on the coffee table next to the couch where he currently laid. maybe they’d believe this was his doing, if luck was on your side. you’d write a suicide note on his behalf- you hadn’t thrown our those gloves yet, anyway.

third, the getaway. because you weren’t going to let them drag you away with his body in a bag. the weight of what you had done would do nothing but shackle you down. yes, you’re haunted, but right now you had to act just fine. your heart was tied up with laces and crimes.

and your cheating, abusive, husband seemingly died out of nowhere, supposedly committing suicide on his own accord while his young marital partner disappeared? well, no one asks any questions where you’re headed now.

you did your best to lay it to rest. meanwhile, japan mourned the loss of a seemingly good and innocent pro hero, to whom you now widowed.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

3 years later.

most of your life had been running and hiding. the thought of settling down anywhere, in a city where you were nothing but a mere guest in. you didn’t trust trust, you didn’t trust happiness. all until meeting katsuki one day.

the thought of ever loving a despicable, power-hungry pro hero set off sirens in your head. but there was some allure about katsuki that made you forget the shadows of your past.

little do you know, he fell for you first and he fell harder. it was impossible not to be enamoured with him- a gorgeous, 6 foot tall blonde with a cocky attitude and fierce determination. who you, at first, wrote off to be a shallow douchebag, but who turned out to be the sweetest, most chivalrous gentleman you had ever gotten the pleasure of knowing.

perhaps your favourite thing about him were his dreams. the things that drove him to be better. his determination to be a good hero, to be the symbol of peace like the ones who came before him. theres a certain light in his crimson eyes that you can’t miss. he shines bright in this light, dazzling your heart and daring you to love him.

so, after just 2 years of dating, you and katsuki are now engaged and living together. the public knows of you, with both adoring and jealous fans by your side.

it gave you this rush. loving him was passionate as sin. every time you’re with him is one hell of a time, even if its something simple as watching a shitty movie together or folding laundry after work. only occasionally, you’d look over your shoulder, making sure no one was following you.

right now, he’s in the kitchen with you. you’re seated on the counter while he cooks, letting you taste-test everything. the glint of your engagement ring looks stunning in this light. katsuki’s happy to be the first person you’ve been married to. at least, he’s happy believing that.

though, somethings different about him this time. he’s quieter, his mind ruminating on something.

he looks at you, the love of his life, seated on the counter wearing his clothes, and wonders how you could be capable of lying to him.

he sighs, putting down whatever he’s doing. he wants to know the truth.

“babe.” he starts, not fully facing you. your ears perk up at the sound of his voice. “yeah?”

he walks over to you, looking you in the eye with his beautiful red eyes. you could sink in them.

“i’m the first man you’ve ever committed to.. right?”

he asks, though it’s something you’ve told him time and time again. previously, he’s wanted to know for some insecure reasons. you’re his one and only, and in the past, he’s just wanted to know you’re on the same page. it’s something you’ve told him everyday.

“yeah.” you smile, hiding behind that facade. “why do you ask?”

he takes a step closer, looking at you. his eyes are pleading, because he wants you to tell him otherwise. please, tell him that what he’s heard isn’t true.

“i wanted to see if you’d lie to me.”

your heart drops.

“what… what are you talking about?” you almost laugh, nervously. that anxiety creeps up your throat. its pathetic the way you thought you could even keep this up.

he sighs, running a hand through his ashy blonde hair in stress. it was wishful thinking, believing that he, a pro hero charged with investigating and bringing justice, would never find out about your crime. for a moment there, it felt good. like you were really gonna get away with it.

he walks past you, rummaging around in his bag before putting the files on the counter next to you. evidence. the man you had taken out, and links that suggested you had done it. your hands shake, seeing how its all stacked against you. looking him in the eye was out of the question.

truthfully, he isn’t sure who he’s looking at. he knows he loves you, but love has never before made him question everything like you’re doing to him. he sighs before continuing.

“kirishima showed me everything.” he says. “he and his team were investigating this case in a city nearby here. i didn’t think much of it until he told me you married the guy, and left right after he was pronounced dead.”

he looks at you, into the face of the person he loves more than anything. he’s begging you to say no. he’s begging you to be innocent.

“did you do it?”

you swallow hard, eyes darkening as you think of your options. was it worth it to lie anymore.

please say no. he thinks. please tell me it isn’t true.

“…i did what i had do.” you whisper, finally confessing.

and his worst fears are confirmed.

his heart sinks, furious as he looks at you. he’s trying to discern if this is the person he knows, if this is the person he loves. his voice is shaky, hands trembling with unbridled rage he tries to keep under control.

“why.” he says, not a question but a command, like venom. you almost flinch at his tone, though you can’t say you blame him. he person he’s set on marrying hid something so huge from him for years.

“its not what you think.” you insist, truthfully not knowing where to start. you cringe at the way your voice cracks when you speak.

his eyes narrow looking at you. “then what is it? you committed a heinous fucking crime and i’m suppose to think its for a good reason?”

god, if katsuki knew half of how hard you life had been. he had a hunch you were going to lie to him again, and it only made him angrier. “tell me the truth. i wanna know-“

“i had a husband before you.” you cut him off. he decidedly holds his tongue, surmising that he’s finally getting the truth from you. so, he waits. impatiently patient.

“i was young, and i had just run away from home.” you explain, the memories of your past crawling back up your throat. “my father was a creepy, rape-y bastard. couldn’t last another second in that house.” you say.

his heart aches at that. he had some idea that your childhood was less than ideal, but the thought your own father did that to you was more than he could bare. though he’s angry, he knows you didn’t deserve it. “i’m so sorry.”

you simply nod, praying for mercy as you continue. “so… i ran away. there weren’t a lot of people who could help me, or who could bring me in. i stayed on the streets most nights.” you sigh, wishing you could run into katsuki’s embrace. on other day, he’d gladly shield you away from all this hurt.

“and then… i met this guy. a hero, believe it or not.” you chuckle bitterly, much to your fiance’s chagrin. the thought that the bastard who did this to being someone like him made him sick.

“he got me a job, and helped me get back on my feet. i fell in love, as stupid and naive as that sounds.” you say. “…and when he asked to marry me, he said it’d only be on paper. that it’d just be so i could have shelter, food and water. i felt like he saved me.”

katsuki nods, still trying to process all of this. “but he didn’t save you… did he?”

you shake your head.

“turns out i married my father.” you say, darkly. he bites his lip, suspicious confirmed. those abused as children are more likely to move on with someone else abusive, after all. its sad cycle that he wishes he could remove you from. though it seems you had your own way of doing that.

“i was gonna die in that house.” you whisper, voice cracking at the seems. “so…”

you can’t even finish your sentence.

he isn’t an idiot. he can connect the dots. but even though the climactic end of your sentence is obvious, he still can’t quite wrap his head around it. he still loves you, though he’s mad as hell you kept this from him.

“i laced his whiskey and watched as it killed him. after, i… i packed my things and left town. took his money, too.”

his silence is killing you. you wish he’d say something, that its okay- though its not. that he still loves you- though he shouldn’t.

you speak again, maybe trying to fix this mess. “i know its wrong. i know its fucked up. i shouldn’t have.”

he lets out another breath, eyes noticing the way your hands shake. those hands, the ones he’d hold in his own, had blood on them.

“and why didn’t you think to tell anyone? no heroes, no police?” he has the nerve to ask, though its a valid question.

you snap, tension breaking as you push yourself ofd the counter and away to face him. “because i don’t TRUST you fuckers!” you cry, yelling while tears spill from your eyes.

silence.

bakugou stared right back into your eyes as you said that, and his expression immediately hardened again. he was angry all over again. for one, he already knew you didn't exactly trust heroes, albeit except for him. but this just hurt him. he knew that he himself was a hero and would protect you with his life.

so why couldn't you see that?

“i’m going to give you one more chance to re-think what you just said.”

but you stand your ground. “no.” you say, shaking your head. “i was abused for years and no one heard my case. i was dismissed and shunned for years until finally, i ran away. and when i did, i was stupid enough to trust again. to trust one of you power-hungry assholes! and how did that end!? with me being scared to come home everyday! with my husband using me like a god damn punching bag!”

his expression immediately drops at your words. hearing what you went through as a kid hit him like a truck. but, on the other hand, he was still so angry. he wanted to tell you that not all heroes are like that, that he wasn't like that.. but the anger was overpowering both his thoughts and his feelings as he listened. he wants to tell you that it’ll never happen again, but his emotions slip it before he can say that.

“and because of what happened with him, you think we're all like that?!” he roars back.

“its different for you and me.” you say, tears refusing to subside. “every-time i’ve let my guard down i’ve been beaten. nothing good comes from trusting.”

so, he wonders if you ever really trusted him. why agree to marry him if you supposedly didn’t believe in trust, or in love? he feels his whole world begin to crumble around him.

he can see now, putting those signs together. your hesitancy when you first met. your trust issues, your reluctance to speak on your past. it all made sense now, and he hated it.

“thats why you were so hesitant to let me in, huh?” he asks, looking at the ground. he’s struggling to keep calm, between his anger towards the monsters of your past and a little towards you.

“you thought i’d be like him?” he asks, and that question physically hurts your heart.

“no! i love you!” your voice cracks like its a lie. both of you notice that.

suddenly, i love you was like the worst thing he’s ever heard.

“and its worse because i’m a hero too, huh?” he asks. but you can’t answer that. instead, you opt to look down, letting your tears soak into your clothes.

“thats not what i thought.” you say, though you aren’t exactly sure who you’re convincing. “i promise, i know you’re different.”

and he is different. katsuki bakugou was nothing like the demons you had fought in your past. he was bright, and warm, and his love felt like home. more specifically, a home that was about to be torn down.

“then why didn’t you tell me, huh? why keep this from me for years?” he asks, still wanting answers.

to this, you almost scoff. it should be obvious. “how do i tell my boyfriend, who is the #1 hero in the country, the pillar of justice and peace, that i murdered someone? that my own hands took someone else life!?”

god, he’s livid. he can’t even look at you, though he admits he kind of understands why you hid it. he believed you were an angel.

“..and you have the nerve to think i’d stop loving you over it!?”

“YES!”

that answer made his anger hit a new record. He grabbed your arms, pushing you against the wall. he held you against it, his grip firm on your wrists, his eyes filled with anger as he looked over your face.

“do you really think I'm like that? do you really think after everything we've been through I'd just stop loving you that easily?”

he was yelling at this point, but he could also hear his voice break slightly as he spoke. he’s crying too.

“you’re hurting me.” you firmly speak.

the fear on your face makes him realize what he’s just done.

exactly 2 seconds after his question, he lets go, backing away. he stutters to himself for a question, seeing what he’s done like a knife through his chest. maybe he wasn’t any better. maybe you had a right to not trust him.

“i’m… fuck, i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” he says, trying to wipe away your tears. he stops as you flinch away from his touch, only making him hate himself even more.

he loves you, and all he’s wanted to do was protect you. he’s angry, yes, but the last thing he’s ever wanted to do was hurt you. he’ll never forgive himself for that.

silently, you grab your jacket and keys and leave the apartment.

part 2 soon! 🫧

[medullamindset]

STEB HEADCANONS :>

Uhhhm YEAH a few headcanons ive collected since act 3 came out in november 😸 enjoy Stebnation, or dont idk

This is very short and boring but its easier to write him in an actual scenario so TRUST IN ME MY UPCOMING STUFF WILL BE BETTER 😿

Content warnings: Established relationship w Reader, miiiild mention of knifeplay but its easily looked past. My opinion on his race.

NSFW marked this pink!

• He cannot be any older than 30. I'd bet hes like 23-27. Idk how old u have to be to be a field medic/enforcer??

• Hes around 6'4.. Tall guy. ♥︎‿♥︎

• His frill thingies seem to lie flat to his face with "down" emotions, such as shame/guilt and sadness. But they point straight out with more intense emotions, like suspense, anger, exitement, worry. I love the way they flutter sometimes, as a subtle reaction. Like when they saw the Zaunites walking over the bridge to aid in the war, his frills were like "oh, wow.."

But also how they shot straight out with suspense when Ambessa wanted Caitlyn to b commander and everyone was banging their chests and stuff.

• I'd like to imagine his frills flutter a few times in a row when he orgasms, like the shockwaves of pleasure, but also post-orgasm. Maybe they go hand in hand with his nervous system kinda?

• His tip is the same color as his eyelids. His nails seem to be beige too.

• He CAN talk he just chooses not to if he feels he doesnt need to. Short sentences if he has to, small nods and shakes of his head, LOOKS. his face is VERY expressive, but thats more of a fact than a hc. body language is a key communication of his.

• Hes def always been the quiet type, ever since he was six he hasn't been big on speaking.

But sometimes you cheat the system.. Having your back turned to him when you ask him a question just so you can hear his voice, even just to get a little "mhm" from him <3

• On the rare occasion that he does speak his voice is kinda hoarse and gravelly from lack of use UGHHHH *squirts everywhere*

• hes a bit of a "bland" person, hes not boring.. Just a very simple man. He reads practically anything, carries your bags when you're out shopping, he literally just goes wherever you wanna go. He hangs over your shoulders when you do ur makeup, cooks breakfast most mornings, cleans when he feels its needed cuz he doesn't like messes, he'll have music on in the background tho and it's usually one of your vinyls that's playing, makes him feel closer to you <3

Simple things man. deeply emotional and caring too. Hes so kind and eager to help ugh MY SHAYLAA.

• hes a bit socially awkward, he doesnt have social anxiety, hes just kinda stiff and quiet around people.

• what the fuck does he do all day, really?

• I feel like he'd like dancing with his lover but he thinks hes bad at it so hes a bit awkward <333 put his hands around ur waist for him tho and he'd turn into even more speechless mush, everytime.

• Has a gummy smile thats really evident when he laughs so he tries not too, might let a grin slip in private tho c: and close mouthed chuckling/snickers.

• Loves being carressed, hold his face in your hands and trace his cheekbones with ur thumbs? FOLDS. Running your fingers up and down the fins at the back of his head when his face is in your neck? PUTTY.

• Speaking of fins, they continue down to to his lower back, shorter at the bottom but longest between his shoulderblades. He also has darker spots(scales?) Like the other fishfolk in Arcane on his outer arms and thighs. See this post of mine for a ref :)

• he drinks alot of water, like ALOT. his throat get dry easily cuz hes.. Yk, fish.. Atleast half-fish. He'll remind his partner to do the same, no matter your race cuz its good for u, he'll nudge u with a glass in hand and a small tug at his lips, or simply just leave it beside u as a silent reminder.

• Loves holding hands. like, he just LOVES it. He'll act nonchalant abt it but on the inside his heart is just blossoming 💗

Like imagine you're at a café or a bar or a diner WHATEVER and ur just sitting infront of him yapping abt ur day or smth ur planning while holding his hand over the table, and he'll just be buzzing with love, rubbing your soft skin with his thumb, feeling lucky his blush doesnt show (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)

• ABSOLUTELY ADORES kisses. He just finds them so sweet and intimate (cuz they are. But i mean like, he doesn't ever NOT think about it after kissing you, hes always locked on target y'know, he only sees you. He only feels you when kissing your lips, he'll kiss u like its the end of the world.. even if hes just getting up to go to the bathroom or something.)

• he just loves you so much, please kiss him, everywhere. Theres not a single spot of him you could kiss that wouldn't make him shiver (the good way).

• Steb is not much for hardcore kinks in bed. He doesnt "fuck", he makes love. In his eyes there truly isnt any purer form of intimacy than sharing something like that, giving away a piece of yourself to this person, your souls spiritually intertwined and yadiyadayada (it's true tho)

• He will go harder if you ask him to, hes not afraid to make you scream with pleasure. Also, bite him and hes a goner. Omg if hes like treating u so nicely in the sack you gotta bite down on something to contain yourself, pls let it be his shoulder, please leave pretty imprints of you canines all over his neck and chest. And hickeys too HNNGHH

Makes him groan so deliciously. Hips snapping into yours just a liiiittle more harshly than intended.

He'll bite you back carnally if you'll let him, Steb gets so lost in it sometimes..

• Hes open to experimentation tho, like if theres something you reallyreallyreally wanna try he'll be like 'euuughgghggggrhggh okay yk what fine', as long as he doesn't have to hurt you, not too much anyway. The idea of inflicting pain-pain on the person he loves makes him queasy.

• But if hes really fucking horny at some point, watching you take the front seat and play around w his gills, scratch at his chest, put a hand around his neck or.. Idk drag a knife gently across his skin while topping he'll literally whine, digging his dull nails into your sides, holding on for dear life.

• He loves being called petnames. Serious and silly ones. His favorites have gotta be Love, Darling, Baby and pretty boy.. All the sappy stuff. One time you called him 'Gorgeous' and his frills shot straight out for a solid three seconds.. If he already didn't speak, he'd be speechless then. CUZ HES A GORGEOUS MAN.

Or that one time you called him 'fishface' and he just slumped in defeat when he heard you giggle, knowing that one was gonna stick around.

You'll enter the kitchen where hes making something to eat and just go "Hey, Fishface! So--!" Continuing to yap and he just rolls his eyes with a lopsided, lovesick grin u cant see from behind him. From anybody else it'd piss him off, but it's you, So he lets it slide.

• he has the warmest and weirdly softest fuckin hands ever. They're never clammy or sticky, just nice and toasty, perfect.

• is the type to grab your hands in the winter and rub them if theyre cold, trying to transfer his warmth over, even if hes also freezing. breathing hotly onto them.

• speaking of winter he probably HATES IT. He gets SO cold SO easy, hes shaking in his boots fr. A frozen fishstick fr. Like jesus. But the palms of his hands stay warm for some reason..

adding to that hes def a sweater fiend.. He LOVES knitted sweaters and hoodies and TURTLENECKS. HE'D LOOK SO GOOD IN A TURTLENECK. TELL ME IM WRONG. LIKE A BIG, FAT, KNITTED ONE THAT GOES UP TO HIS JAW. Even better if you knit/crocheted them for him <33

• I headcanon that his dad is a human and his mom is a fish person cuz he has hair and rounded teeth which other fishfolk we see don't. We don't see any other fishfolk from piltover tho.. So maybe hes just slapped on a wig, peel-off eyebrows and filed his teeth down (which is INSANELY painful btw) to look "socially acceptable". I HEAVILY doubt that, when i rascism like that ever shown in Arcane, Piltover specifically? 🤔 Im not even gonna get into that whole Vastaya thing cuz i dont know enough.. I heard they can decide how many animal features they show as they please and that they're like deeply connected to magic and live really long.. But that isn't mentioned or even nodded to in Arcane so im just gonna pretend that doesnt exist lol sorry

• but ya he adopted alot of his moms fishy features but also human-ish hair and teeth from his dad.

•speaking of his parents, i do feel like Steb was raised kinda strictly? Idk i just feel like his parents would be very uptight and that stuck with him all the way into adulthood, he stands super upright and is well proper while on the job because thats just what hes been taught.

hes alot more relaxed at home tho, where he knows he doesn't have to be or look presentable for anyone, especially not you. he knows you'll love him even while standing by the fridge in pj's, with a fist full of grated cheese ready to be devoured at circa 2 AM.

• He was raised in a small village on the outskirts, right beside the ocean. Hence he still adores it and loves to go swimming with you, reminds him of his childhood yk c:

• He kinda gives only child vibes to me? Idk the thought of him with an older sibling is kinda cute tho,, i imagine they'd be like complete opposites. They hardly see eachother,, I don't feel like his family lives in Piltover. He had a "Mom, Dad.. I'm 18 now..! I'm moving to the big city. And there is nothing you can do to stop me." Moment, exept in a less verbal way maybe, moving to the city of progress and begining medical and tactical training, to help people. On both sides.

• Hes really good at origami, sometimes when hes at work and droning at his desk with nothing better to do he'll just grab a random paper and fold a little swan together. You've found multiple critters like that scattered around the house, some with faces drawn on, just two inky dots and a derpy smile like this : )

Once he made one of your favorite animal and left it on your nightstand before heading to work, you picked it up and examined it, smile growing even wider when you found the hidden lovenote that was written on it <3

It's now glued neatly into your shared scrapbook/journal along with many more, surrounded by dried flowers and red hearts <33

Uhhhhhhhhhhhrghhhhhhhhhh yeah ❗️🚮 i just debated wether or not this is even worth posting for like twenty minutes.

Pls dont bash me for my opinions now *gulp*

Also heres a lil reminder that im taking requests 💗💗 i love writing i just never have good or original ideas :'o(

[squaredbean]

I have so many thoughts about WL!Renchanting.

The way their Third Life base was named exclusively after Ren (Renchanting, Dogwarts), and now it includes Martyn (RenWood (literally getting their own ship name wrong smh), InTheLittleLake).

How it’s like Ren has grown so attached to Martyn since Third Life that his life has to incorporate him in as many ways as possible. (“What can I do to make you happy?” Ough.) How before Martyn served HIM, and now the roles are not explicitly reversed, but fuck, Ren is out providing, doing everything he can to please his partner. Because he wants him to stay with him so badly

Not that Martyn could ever leave (“I was going to betray Ren” MY ASS! Aren’t you the motherfucker who went so insane without him that you betrayed your only ally and won the season with nothing but bloodlust? Scar on your cheek from when you cried so hard when he died??? It’s in your LORE sir????????)

How Ren wanted to invite BigB to to join them. FIRST OF ALL, he was your SOULMATE who CHEATED ON YOU in the season YOU DONT REMEMBER BEING IN. WOW. Being cheated on didn’t even hold a candle to what you and Martyn had going on I guess

Second, BIGB WAS AN ORIGINAL MEMBER OF DOGWARTS. Carried the dang shield and everything. Are you trying to recreate the home Martyn helped you build in order to keep YOU safe, because you want to do the same for HIM??? WITH KNIGHTS AND A WALL AND EVERYTHING????? Just kiss already. Damn.

[hoe4sports]

“Take my heart, dont break it”

Alexia Putellas x reader

A/N: You voted and picked Alexia. This is a series based on Myles Smith song called stargazing. No triggers. P2 here.

The fresh Barcelonian air was flowing into your hotelroom as you found yourself sat in the frame of the window m next to one of your teammates, Alexia Putellas. You were both sitting together in silence with your eyes closed soaking up the morning bliss. The sun was slowly waking up as the gentle rays felt like a warm cup of cocoa in December by the fireplace with a book and a blanket. Not too warm, not too cold. You were taking in all the fresh salty air you could possibly fit into your lungs before exhaling through your mouth. It felt blissful, peaceful; like a morning mindfulness class. You could smell the gentle strawberry scent from the tea Alexia had made you when you got up in time for sunrise. You and Alexia had known each other forever. You grew up with her and Alba next door and you had religiously played football with Alexia for your whole life. You did it all together: High school, college, Barcelona and the national team. You sat together on buses and flights. Even though she was entitled to her own hotel room as captain; she still wanted to partner up with you.

“Can I interrupt your peace?” Alexia asked as you opened up your eye to see her still in the same relaxed position with her eyes closed. “If you must” you said as you giggled. Alexia sighted. “No, no, go ahead big al” you corrected as you looked out on the beach below the hotel.

“I’ve been having some issue with Olga; she seems spaced out. She’s there, but she isn’t really there. It’s strange, I don’t really understand and she keeps insisting that everything is all good. I dont honestly know what to do.”

You could sense the tension in the room as the Catalan poured her heart out to you. It was like thunder from a crystal blue sky. They seemingly had the picture perfect relationship. Amazing vacations. Nice cars. Fancy dinners.

“It’s just, I know it’s selfish but I can’t stop my mind from wondering if she is cheating on me. She’s always on her phone, and she deleted her location off of the life360 app.”

You spent a second figuring out what words Alexia wanted to hear and what she needed to hear. It was clear as day that you needed to knock some common sense into her. Who would cheat on one of the hottest women in the world of football? Nobody could ever be able to commit to adultery without anyone taking notice of their famous girlfriend.

“Ai, Ale. Do you want me to tell you what you want to hear or what you need to hear? Pick your poison capitana.”

You looked over at her. She was still sitting in the sun in the window while taking on the fresh air. Her chest rhythmically rising. Her brown eyes were still closed and her blonde hair was up in the messiest Lucy Bronze style bun you could imagine making the sight of her almost wanting you to giggle.

“Hm, buena pregunta…Tell me what I need to hear.” Alexia said softly as she opened up her eyes to look at you showing off her worried grin. Her body language changed. Like she was getting ready for a fight.

“Estúpida, Olga loves you! She adores you. She practically worships the ground you walk on. You need to talk to your girlfriend, and you need to tell her what you told me.” You finished as you looked at her with an attitude.

Later that day at practice, you were doing drills with Claudia. It was evidently warmer now, and you had popped off your shirt to avoid getting overly warm. You kept passing the ball at the right time in the right height to help Claudia with her first touches. It was always fun working with Claudia. Her humor was incredible and if her humor didn’t do the job; her infections laugh would. As you passed the last ball to Claudia, she ended up whacking the ball senseless and the ball went flying into the open field. It caused you to laugh hysterically as Claudia flopped down on the grass. Claudia was a vibe; you got along so well and she’d been like your little sister.

The next practice begun at the gym, and it was individual programs. You, Alexia, Claudia and Ingrid has the same program for the day meaning that you partnered up together. You noticed that Alexia seemed distracted. At first, she had placed the weights in the bench press without securing them causing them to go flying off the pole. The next situation was when she tried filling her waterbottle from the water cooler and she overfilled in for a good 10 seconds before she caught the little spill. The last situation was when Claudia was doing squats and Alexia was supposed to be spotting her right side as you spotted the left. The weights were a little heavier than what Claudia normally lifted so you expected her to need assistance. After four lifts, Claudia went for the fifth and it caused her to fail. You grabbed the pole from the left side as the younger girls hands were wobbly violently to hold up the other side of the pole. Alexia didn’t caught on. “Alexia” No answer. “Alexia for fucks sake, help!” You yelled causing Ingrid to shove her away to help you with the spotting.

In the warderobe that afternoon after everyone left, you decided to stay behind and talk to Alexia again. Alexia liked taking her time in the shower so it wasn’t uncommon for her to be the last woman standing. You approached her as she stepped out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around her lower half leaving her chest open.

“Ale, you have been distant. You could’ve caused an injury. What’s going on?” You crossed your arms as you stood in front of her with a stern look on your face. The feeling you had wasn’t something you could shook away easily. You just couldn’t act in situations that maybe had happened. That wouldn’t be fair to Olga or Alexia.

“Ai, Y/N, it’s just hard. I’m in my head and Olga is too busy to talk. I cannot shook the feeling I’m having in my gut. But I need to trust Olga, right?”

You nodded. Olga hadn’t done anything that wouldn’t give her chance to explain herself. For all Alexia knew, this was all just a big misunderstanding.

Olga was amazing, you knew her from before her and Alexia started dating, and they were perfect for each other. Olga was always so perfect, almost to the point where it annoyed you. Olga was picture perfect and rarely looked out of line or did Alexia wrong. Alexia’s observations were however not unlikely. A few weeks ago you went to a new restaurant with Claudia, and you could’ve sworn you saw Olga with another woman. You couldn’t be sure though because you had excused yourself to the bathroom to get a better look, but when you got out of the bathroom; The mystery woman was out of sight. Quite frankly, she had also been out of mind.

That was until now however, but it couldn’t have been Olga. Olga was sweet, genuine and had a heart of gold. You couldn’t wrap your mind around what Alexia had said, but you could also not tell her that you might saw Olga. You were having an internalised conflict of trying to decided whenever to tell her or not. You didn’t want to seem pushy and like you didn’t like Olga, but you didn’t want Alexia’s heart to break either.

At least, that was the lie you continued to tell yourself.

[mysicklove]

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

DAY 17: VOUYERISM

With: Yoichi Isagi and Meguru Bachira

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Sub/bottom isagi, sub/top bachira, mlm, anal sex, AFAB! reader because of mentions of pegging, but rest is Gn!, overstimulation, doggy style, picture taking, hand job, praise, nickname "baby" once for Isagi

A/N: This is my longest fic yet ! I hope I dont write anything else this long cause how tf am i supposed to write 31 days of this shit

You and Isagi have been dating for a long time. Four years and one hundred and two days to be exact. A long time for people in their twenties, but you loved him, and could never dream about ending it with him.

The two of you had much time to experiment in bed due to how long your relationship has been. Finding out Isagi was more submissive in these types of acts made it much easier for the two of you, and with that knowledge the both of you were determined to find something new and exciting as often as you can. 

So you have tried many things: roleplay, pegging, bondage, strap sucking, sounding, almost everything you can think of, well that are “softer” in the kink domain at least. 

But there are still some things the two of you have not tried. 

“You want me to fuck my best friend in front of you?” Your boyfriend exclaims, eyebrowed raised and mouth open in shock.

“”Best friends”! I am blush–”

“Well he’s actually going to fuck you,” You interrupt, glancing at Bachira who is now staring at Isagi with stars in his eyes.

The dark-haired boy points to himself in confusion, still processing the information. His cheeks warm, and he gulps as he looks over at his soccer partner. The other shoots him a wink and grins as if nothing was amiss. “Yep. Unless you want to fuck me, I am good with that too! Y/N just said you like to take it up–” Isagi covers his mouth in an instant, blushing profusely and looking away. 

He glances back at you, squirming slightly under your gaze. “Isn’t this…Cheating?”

You lean forward and press a soft kiss to his lips, and he melts into it, calming his nerves instantly. “I am asking you to do it,” You say, rubbing your finger along his jaw, with a small reassuring smile.

Bachira sits quietly, but expectantly. The only rule he has was to listen to your commands and the rest was on him. He loved Isagi, so it’s not like he would ever cause him harm, so you weren’t too worried about it.

Isagi nods at you and then turns back to the other boy, the nerves picking up when he makes eye contact with his best friend. “S-Sooooo how do we begi–”

Bachira tackles his best friend with a kiss, pushing the two of them down onto the bedsheets. You chuckle at the eagerness, and Isagi lets out a surprised yelp as his back slams into the mattress.

You grab a pillow and prop it up against the headboard and relax against it, now having a comforting view. The two of them lay in front of you, Bachira still on top, while your boyfriend occasionally sends you glances, as to ask Is this really okay? To which you nod, and hum in encouragement.

Slowly, Isagi begins to relax into the kiss, opening his mouth and allowing Bachiras tongue to slip in. It’s different from your kisses — his are sloppy, and maybe even too much tongue. Still, he doesn’t mind it, though it’s weird to think that he would be kissing someone other than you.

Bachira is the first to pull away, straddling Isagi’s waist and pulling off his shirt. Then he leans forward and helps pulls the other boys off. His lips are back on the boys in an instant, moaning lightly into the kiss. Isagi runs his hands up to the back of the other’s hair, and gently tugs.

Bachira in return mewls into his mouth and bites Isagis lip. The boy yelps out and pulls away, now touching his lip. He turns to you with a small pout. “He bit me!” Then back to Bachira. “You bit me!”

Meguru pants out, “You pulled my hair though? Thought you wanted me to rough you up?”

Isagi fumes at this and turns at you not knowing what to say. You laugh at the two and pat Bachira on his head, considering he is closest to you. “Yoichi is a little bit of a princess. Gotta be treated with care,” You tease, smiling as you run your fingers through the boy’s brown hair.

Your boyfriend grumbles something along the lines of, “I am not a princess,” as he begins to pull off his pants. You grin at him and bark a small laugh.

Bachira on the other hand is soaking up your touch. He seems to purr into it, leaning into the hand. “I’d let you rough me up,” He mumbles with a smile, turning his head to lick your palm.

You raise your eyebrows at his boldness and Isagi scoffs. “Thought you were fucking me?”

“Oooooh Isagi you are jealous little thing aren’t ya? I’m coming, Im coming!” Bachira replies, smiling widely. He seems to pounce on the other before he could murmur a complaint. 

The two continue on and you hum, feeling your own arousal begin to build up. You watch Bachiras hand slip down Isagis’s boxers, and he jumps with a small yelp falling from his lips. “Hands are cold,” He complains to no one in imparticular, before slipping Bachiras pants off.

They both stare at eachother and gulp. The have seen eachother naked in the locker room, hell even Bachira walks around bare every time he gets an opportunity to, but this was different. They were both pulsing, completely hard under each other’s gaze — it was slightly embarrassing. Isagi spares you a glance, and you smile at him. “Different than usual?”

“Y-Yeah. You can say that.”

Bachira chuckles and pulls Isagi back into the kiss, hoping to ease the embarrassment.

The two of them begin grinding against each other, lead by the brown-haired boy. They both are groaning out, pulling away from one another and panting. You take this time to take an indulgent look at the two of their cocks. Isagis is slightly larger, but not by much. Bachiras is thinner, but long.

“Like what you see?” Bachira grins at you, his face red from his movements. 

You chuckle at him, crossing your legs and leaning forward. “You are so pretty Meguru,” You purr, just out of curiosity to see his reaction.

He giggles in return, blushing slightly and then burying his head into Isagis neck. “Mhmmm! You are so lucky Isagi!” 

Isagis hazy eyes flicker to yours and he frowns. “Don’t pout at me. You are just as pretty and you know that ‘chi.”

He seems to take a liking to this answer, so he wraps his arms around Bachiras neck. The dark-haired boy whispers, “You going to do it or not?” into the other’s ear.

“On it boss!” Meguru nods frantically, and begins to prod his finger at Isagis entrance. 

“He’s already prepped," You interrupt before Bachira could question it. "Did it earlier, told him we had a surprise." Isagi slightly blushes, but nods in agreement.

Meguru lets out a long drawn-out whine. “No fair. You guys are taking away all the fun.”

You laugh at the boy, but shrug. Isagi mumbles out a halfhearted, “Sorry man."

Suddenly Isagi is being flipped. He now lays on his stomach, eyes wide, and staring directly at you. He gulps and gives you a small awkward wave. You chuckle and lean forward to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“From behind?” You question, as you pull away from your boyfriend. Bachira begins to pour lube onto his fingers, and directly on the source, causing Isagi to shiver from the coolness of it. 

“Thought you would like seeing Isagis face! Or um, both of ours?” The last part came out as more of a mumble, unsure of his place here.

You lean forward and press a kiss to his lips. Isagi lets out a small shocked noise, and Bachira moans into your mouth, eager by the act of affection. 

You pull away with a small grin, and Bachira stares at you with heavy-lidded eyes. “I’d love to see it.” 

The boy giggles again in response and you smile softly at him. Isagi calls out your name, craning his neck up toward you to give you easier access. You press your lips to his, holding him up by his chin. He groans into your mouth, beginning to inch his tongue in.

Suddenly his eyes fly open and he lets out a broken moan. You pull away to see Bachira behind him, pressing his tip inside already. His hands lay on the other’s hips, and he stares, slightly panting and pressing more of himself in. 

“Impatient, are we?” You question, eyes meeting his yellow ones.

“Ba–ahhh! S-Slow down! I cant–” Isagi hisses, gnawing on the pillow to help ease the intense sensation. Bachira was bigger than anything he has taken before. He was used to smaller toys, and always seem to tremble at the thought of taking something big. This was a whole new feeling for the boy.

He trembles slightly, and Bachira huffs, wiping away a strand from his forehead. “S-So tight, Isagi. I thought you were prepped?”

“I am, asshole! You are going too fast!”

“Yoichi, play nice. He didn’t know,” You coo, brushing back his bangs and sparing him a warm smile. He whines at you, pouting lightly when you take the other side. “But Meguru, take it slow. He’s never taken anything of your size.”

Bachira seems to perk up at this, tearing his eyes from Isagis hips to you. “You think I’m big?”

“Don’t let it get to your head egoist.”

He seems to like this answer, grinning at you, but nodding. “Mines bigger,” Isagi mumbles into the pillow, his back slightly arched to meet Bachiras hips. 

Bachira begins to move again, finally bottoming out. The blue hair boy keens at the feeling, a small yelp falling from his lips. He shuts his eyes and waits for himself to get adjusted. “Hmm you’re right. Maybe then next time we can switch positions!”

Isagi barks a laugh, grateful in the moment for his best friend’s upbeat energy. It seems to ease away the discomfort. After a couple more seconds, he just feels strangely full, less uncomfortable overall.

You watch as Bachira rests his hands on Isagis hips. He sits on his knees from behind the other who is still on all fours. Both of them are flushed red, slightly from the feeling and slightly from the whole thing in general. Never would have thought that they would be fucking each other.

You hum at Bachira, snapping him out of his thoughts. Your eyes tell him to move, so he nods and pulls out, and then in again. 

The two begin to pant, and Bachira keeps to a slow but deep pace, while Isagi is staring up at you. He blinks at you, mouth open to take in more air, and eyes beginning to fog. 

You smile at him and pat his head. “Doing so good Yoichi. Does Megurus cock feel good?”

At the sound of his name, Bachira begins to pick up the pace. He tightens his grip on the other’s hips, and furrows his eyebrows, focusing now on the task at hand. 

Isagi moans out at the change of pace. His eyes slightly roll and he nods at you. “Mhmmm. G-Good.”

Meguru smiles at this, his own moans slipping past him. They are higher in pitch, whiny even, contrasting Isagis lower sort of grumbles of moans. Both were equally cute. With each second, Bachira grows more confident. The sound of slapping skin fills the air, along with an assortment of sounds. 

“Isagis ass feels s-so good! C-Cant get enough of it!” Bachira exclaims, collapsing forward on top of the other, his hands falling next to Isagis shoulders. He presses his chest against the boy’s back when the other’s knees begin to give out.

The two of their faces were inches away from your crossed legs, Isagis now tear-streaked halfway buried into the pillow. It was cute to see him like this, with every breath a whimpery moan escapes, and he was trembling under the weight of it. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You are going too hard!”

You peer up at Bachira, who is panting heavily now, a small fucked out grin on his face as he seems to only chase his own pleasure. When he feels your gaze, he slightly frowns, afraid you’ll tell him off. “No, please don’t make me slow down! Feels good. I can’t!”

To prove his point, he reaches under Isagi and begins to stroke him off. The blue-haired boys whole body seems to jerk, and a whole new set of tears drip down his cheek. “F-Fuck! Not both at o-once,” he pleads, gripping the pillow with trembling hands.

You don’t say anything, even when Isagi glances up at you with wet, glassy eyes. His whole face is red, and his body bounces toward you with each thrust. You reach down and rub his tears away, and he sniffles at you, before letting out a loud whiny moan when he feels the other graze his prostate. 

“Did you think that at yesterday’s practice, that only the next day your partner would be fucking you in the ass?” You say above the lewd squelching noises. 

Bachira giggles at this, even if the question wasn’t directed to him. “I was–I was so excited!” He sighs, shivering slightly from above him. “It’s better than I thought it would be. Isagi is so warm. And–And t-tight!”

Isagi fumes at both of your statements, his whole face bright pink. The tears don’t make his case any better. He looks absolutely adorable right now, already fucked out. He slightly shakes his head, looking away.

You pull at your phone and point it at the two heads, wanted to keep this photo in your collection of Isagis fucked dumb faces. Bachira takes notice of this and immediately tries to grin, but it comes out wobbly and his eyes are half-lidded. Isagi doesn’t even try to change positions, too fucked out to even care. Meguru takes this time to plunge a finger into his mouth, pulling at the skin to form a makeshift smile. 

It doesn’t work, instead, it just makes Isagi drool even more, and his tongue begins to hang out. You snap the picture and press a kiss to both of their cheeks in thanks. Bachira blushes and tries to smile, while Isagi doesn’t even react, seeming to be in his own little world. 

He is completely limp by this time, his legs given out, but you can see him slightly buck his hips into Bachiras hand. He’s mumbling something along the line of, “So good. ’s so good.” 

Suddenly, he tenses up and grips at the sheets. His whole body begins to shake and he lets out broken airy gasps as he stares at you with wide eyes.

You and Bachira stare, shocked. “Yoichi, did you just–”

“Fuckkkkkkk!” He exclaims, tears coming out in globs and his whole body trembles. Bachira pulls his hand away, that’s now covered in cum. You bark a small laugh, shocked by your lover. He always announced when he had to cum. He must have gotten lost in the pleasure.

You grab the washcloth next to you and wipe his hand off, Bachira’s thrusts slowing down to let you. Once done, he plants his hands back from above the dark-haired boy and begins to pick it up again. “W-Wait but I already!” Isagis says, eyes looking back at you desperately in a plea.

“Meguru hasn’t cum yet. Don’t be selfish, baby.”

He whines out, but a particularly hard thrust makes him lose his breath. “S’alright. D-Dont worry, Isagi. Im close. Im close,” Bachira pants into Isagis neck, his voice shaky and breathless. 

“C-Can I cum?” The boy asks, craning his neck up to look at you, his own eyes beginning to water.

You cock your head to the side and smile at him. “Sure Meguru. Why, aren’t you a good boy?”

He preens at the praise, nodding into Isagis neck, and now wanting desperately to coax some more out of you. It makes him feel giddy, but nice, warm even.

Isagi, whose head is still spinning, and his body tingling from overstimulation, whimpers at your words. “Sorry. ‘m sorry! Im g-good–Ah! too! Please please please!”

You rub your fingers down his face and he shakily grabs at your hands a broken sob falling from his lips at Bachiras force. “Shhh. You are doing so good Yoichi. Such a good boy for me.”

He nods into your touch, soaking up the words, and you use the other hand to pet Bachira’s head. “Im–Im cumming! Oh fuck oh fuck!” He quickly pulls out of Isagi and reaches back to stroke himself off through it.

He cums onto the dark-haired boy’s ass, and back. He hisses through it, shutting his eyes and grinding his teeth together. You coax him through it with soft coos, while Isagi leans into your hand as he waits for his best friend to come down from his high. His legs shake and fall limp against the bed.

A couple of seconds later Bachira collapses next to him. The both of them are on their stomachs next to one other. Immediately, Bachira is cuddling up to Isagi, loving the warmth of the other. You grin at the two and run your fingers through their hair. 

“Well, that was fun! Was I really a good boy?” Bachira exclaims, his energy coming back not even minutes later. He peers up at you and kicks his legs from behind him.

Isagi throws him a weak punch on the shoulder, too exhausted to do any better. “Watch it. That’s my nickname. Worked four years for it.”

Bachira lets out a dramatic whine. “What? Isagiiiii. Don’t be so selfish!”

“Maybe if you bottom next time, they will call you that. You'll see what hell I was put through to deserve it,” Isagi sighs, cuddling up to your knee and the pillow beneath him. You smile at him, and he seems to purr under your touch.

Bachira taps his chin, and cocks his head to the side. “Then why did you cum so early if you didn’t like it?”

Isagi grabs the pillow next to him and shoves it in his best friend’s face. “Stupid fucking egoist,” He sighs, closing his eyes, even with his face blooming red from embarrassment.

You hear Bachiras muffled laugh from behind the pillow.

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[antimony-medusa]

Okay because I keep seeing these posts, I am just gonna cartwheel in here and say something.

It is not inappropriate to be attracted to real people.

Like, entirely setting aside the question of if you think a fantasy character block men is hot, if you are looking at the photos of a real streamer and you've got hearts in your eyes, I can't overemphasize how normal that is. You're good. Don't worry about it.

These people are funny, and they have good voices, and we watch them be entertaining for hours at a time. This is prime real estate for a little crush. And having a crush is fine, the question is about your behaviour once you have a crush.

I am seeing people thinking that having a crush on a streamer means they're dangerously parasocial, or somehow predatory, or abusive, and that ever breathing a word of it is basically sexual harassment. And like, no. Being attracted to real people is not weird. That's arguably less weird than being attracted to fictional characters. The only question is like, once you know that you want to smooch the real person, how do you then treat that person and the people around you?

Seeing a photo of a famous person and thinking "oh hell yeah I want to hold their hand": this is a celebrity crush. I am aroace and I've spent enough time in some people's streams that I start to go "oh man I wonder if they'd like if if we played D&D together" (medusa-flirting). This has happened to regular people looking at attractive famous people probably since someone in the cave man clan was a particularly good hunter and got praise for it. Thoughts in your head don't hurt people. This is fine.

Seeing clips of a famous person and having sexual thoughts about them: this is still a celebrity crush. Your average boring office worker does this with movie stars. Half the people on the bus are doing this with instagram influencers. Runnning a nice r-rated movie in your head is fine, and doesn't hurt anyone. Thoughts in your head still dont' hurt people. This is still fine.

Collecting photos of a famous person and going GOD they're hot to your friends where the famous person won't see it: still a celebrity crush. There is a standing joke in I don't know how many healthy relationships that your partner gets a certain amount of freebies where you could totally cheat if it's Idris Elba, because it's IDRIS ELBA, that's not cheating that's just sense. You can aknowlege someone's sexiness to your friends, and even joke about it, and you're not being predatory, and you're not being inappropriate. Desire is not a crime. People can publically talk about being attracted to a person, and as long as they're not making it that person's problem, they're fine. Having a "hot people" tag on your blog with careful photos gathered from someone's public instagram where they deliberately posted photos of themselves looking hot? I can't over emphasize how fine this is. If people don't want to see hot people on their dash I guess they can unfollow? But you're literally being totally appropriate still.

Getting a nice private group chat with friends who like to talk abouta famous person and talking about how you'd like to knock him up: Look, what else are group chats as adults for? Are you seeing a trend here? As long as you are keeping your attraction to yourself and not making it other people's problem, as long as you're not bothering the real person with it, as long as you aknowledge to yourself that this is never going to happen and this is just a fun fantasy, this is just like, how attraction works. See pretty person, talk about pretty person, have fun with the fictional imaginings you're having— as long as you're not forcing this imagining on someone else, making it their problem, trying to make it real, as long as you know the difference between fiction and real life, you're fine.

Going up to someone's chat and talking about their dick: This is where you cross the line.

Putting NSFW work in someone's fan art tag. Wearing a shirt with porn on it to a meet and greet. Untagging your fanfic so that people who want to read g-rated works about someone are confronted with e-rated works. Asking one of their friends about their relationship status and if they smell good. This is the bad stuff. Don't do THAT. Keep it away from the real person.

The problem is not the attraction, the problem is forcing the attraction on other people. Like, use your brain. There's a segment of attraction that you can put on main, and then there's a segment that you can put on main but you'd better be sure that the person you're talking about is not going to see it, and then there's a segment you should keep for the group chat, but that's just a very basic sliding scale of "how sexual am I being" correlated with "how private am I being about this". If you want to run a full on porn video in your head starring Wilbur Soot, you're not bothering other people with that, you're not being inappropriate. That becomes inappropriate if you are a) putting that in tags where people who don't want to see the porn video would see it b) talking to Wilbur Soot about it. Those are the boundaries. Wait also c) talking to Wilbur Soot's friends about it, don't do that either.

If the person you're attracted to is an adult famous person, like, people being attracted to them is just part of the landscape. I promise an adult celebrity is not sitting in their room being traumatized because people might be thinking about them romantically or sexually. Putting it up in their faces? Bad. Very bad. I hate it. Don't do it. But I see people freaking out about thoughts. Thoughts aren't real. They do not exist in the real world. You can do what you fuckin' want in your thoughts and you are not hurting people.

Like I know we don't want to be inappropriate with streamers, but that doesn't mean that any sexual or romantic thoughts about them are forbidden, or that mild "GOD he's cute" or picspams on main are hurting people, or that off in a closed group of fellow adult enthusiasts you can't be like "so I think streamer would be submissive if I was domming him" and everyone can be like "oh you'd dom him so well". As long as you're keeping it away from people who are bothered by it, you're fine.

Attraction to real people is normal and how attraction works. You're not hurting people if you think they're cute. You're not hurting people if you want to fuck them, either, as long as you're not making them interact with that desire. This is just a simple matter of keeping the higher-rated material away from the people involved.

Attraction to real people isn't inappropriate. You're fine.

[pha55ed]

Formula 1 !

rules || req open || anons open

if you dont see someones name, that means i dont know them well enough to write for them - but maybe theyll be added one day :)

also, organized by 2024' line up :") since that's when i joined

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

Carlos Sainz | 55

Quite Rude ♡∘°∘ driver!reader cusses them out after getting into a crash with them, leading to the start of their enemies to lovers relationship (fluff/angst)

PR Nightmare ♡∘°∘ driver!reader is their partner and can't keep their big mouth shut, resulting in them stressing out and having to defend themselves (crack)

I'm Stuck Forever By The Glue ♡∘°∘ sweet little things they do for you, because i lov fluff (fluff)

Just Acting ♡∘°∘ actor!reader is in a popular series and is shipped with a different actor, making the drivers kind of jealous and worried (fluff)

I'll Only Make You Cry ♡∘°∘ you catch the drivers cheating on you, crushing everything you've ever known about him (hurt)

Charles Leclerc | 16

Quite Rude ♡∘°∘ driver!reader cusses them out after getting into a crash with them, leading to the start of their enemies to lovers relationship (fluff/angst)

PR Nightmare ♡∘°∘ driver!reader is their partner and can't keep their big mouth shut, resulting in them stressing out and having to defend themselves (crack)

I'm Stuck Forever By The Glue ♡∘°∘ sweet little things they do for you, because i lov fluff (fluff)

Just Acting ♡∘°∘ actor!reader is in a popular series and is shipped with a different actor, making the drivers kind of jealous and worried (fluff)

I'll Only Make You Cry ♡∘°∘ you catch the drivers cheating on you, crushing everything you've ever known about him (hurt)

Lando Norris | 04

Quite Rude ♡∘°∘ driver!reader cusses them out after getting into a crash with them, leading to the start of their enemies to lovers relationship (fluff/angst)

Song Abt Your Break-Up ♡∘°∘ singer!reader makes a song exposed why they broke up which ends up with drivers getting hate (angst)

PR Nightmare ♡∘°∘ driver!reader is their partner and can't keep their big mouth shut, resulting in them stressing out and having to defend themselves (crack)

I'm Stuck Forever By The Glue ♡∘°∘ sweet little things they do for you, because i lov fluff (fluff)

Just Acting ♡∘°∘ actor!reader is in a popular series and is shipped with a different actor, making the drivers kind of jealous and worried (fluff)

I'll Only Make You Cry ♡∘°∘ you catch the drivers cheating on you, crushing everything you've ever known about him (hurt)

Oscar Piastri | 81

Quite Rude ♡∘°∘ driver!reader cusses them out after getting into a crash with them, leading to the start of their enemies to lovers relationship (fluff/angst)

Song Abt Your Break-Up ♡∘°∘ singer!reader makes a song exposed why they broke up which ends up with drivers getting hate (angst)

PR Nightmare ♡∘°∘ driver!reader is their partner and can't keep their big mouth shut, resulting in them stressing out and having to defend themselves (crack)

I'm Stuck Forever By The Glue ♡∘°∘ sweet little things they do for you, because i lov fluff (fluff)

Just Acting ♡∘°∘ actor!reader is in a popular series and is shipped with a different actor, making the drivers kind of jealous and worried (fluff)

I'll Only Make You Cry ♡∘°∘ you catch the drivers cheating on you, crushing everything you've ever known about him (hurt)

Ollie Bearman | 03 <3

Song Abt Your Break-Up ♡∘°∘ singer!reader makes a song exposed why they broke up which ends up with drivers getting hate (angst)

Painfully Oblivious ♡∘°∘ despite being so clear about their crush on you, you can't seem to understand them at all (fluff)

Is it Casual Now? ♡∘°∘ awkward situation-ships where you want more but it turns out you were being led on (angst) ♡∘°∘ bad ending !

Back With Your Ex ♡∘°∘ the boys' helped you get over your toxic ex, only for you to soft launch that you're back together... which is awful because they've been waiting ages for you to be single (smau)

Kimi's Bday Celly! ♡∘°∘ kodoku :: fans attack you (comfort) ♡∘°∘ attracted to u :: different driver crushes on you (fluff) ♡∘°∘ you and i :: teammate!reader is shipped with him (fluff) ♡∘°∘ fine line :: getting to know the real him (fluff)

Just Acting ♡∘°∘ actor!reader is in a popular series and is shipped with a different actor, making the drivers kind of jealous and worried (fluff)

Diet Pepsi ♡∘°∘ certain kinks that the drivers have (smut)

George Russell | 63

Quite Rude ♡∘°∘ driver!reader cusses them out after getting into a crash with them, leading to the start of their enemies to lovers relationship (fluff/angst)

Lewis Hamilton | 44

I'm Stuck Forever By The Glue ♡∘°∘ sweet little things they do for you, because i lov fluff (fluff)

Max Verstappen | 01

none yet !

Lance Stroll | 18

Quite Rude ♡∘°∘ driver!reader cusses them out after getting into a crash with them, leading to the start of their enemies to lovers relationship (fluff/angst)

[incorporealbombchelle]

The Wife Of A Close Friend

Daniel Cleaver × Fem!Reader (18+)

Synopsis: Part 1 - One Christmas Eve, while Mark is stuck at the office, Daniel Cleaver pays (y/n) a visit...

⚠️TW: Cheating, Mild Daddy Kink, Mild Dirty Talk, Manipulation, Sleaziness, Raw P in V Penetration, Carly Simon, General Smut.

The house phone rings out, shrill and I pick it up "Hello?"

"Hello, (y/n). When's hubby due home?" Daniel, my husband Mark's best friend.

"Daniel, hi. Mark said he'd be back closer to 6pm. Do you two have plans tonight?"

"I'll be there in 10. Wear something appealing."

"Its only two, why would you-" click.

Asshole.

I hang up and a little over ten minutes later the doorbell rings. I open it to a smiling, if fatigued, Daniel Cleaver. He's flushed, breathing hard as he runs a hand through his hair. Today he's wearing a linen button down and jeans under his coat and if I wasn't constantly on the verge of wanting to kill him, I'd say he looks good. Great, even.

"Did you run here?"

"Did I run here? Will there ever be peace in the middle east? Are you wearing panties? These are all very difficult questions, (y/n), I propose we start with the panties and work backwards," he wheezes

"Watch it-" I warn

"You're right, I'm awful, we should talk it out over drinks,"

I roll my eyes and he nods into the foyer, pushing past me.

"Oh, won't you come in." I plead flatly.

I step aside, closing the door to follow behind as he saunters into the kitchen, plucks a beer from the fridge and discards his coat over the counter. His eyes leer over me as he takes a swig of his drink.

"Does Mark know you traipse around the house in these skimpy little dresses while he's at work?"

"It's Prada, for your information and it is not skimpy..." I tug the hem of the mini dress as low as I'm able to, but it refuses to support my assertion and I feel myself redden some.

He smiles devilishly and turns away for a moment, teeth catching his lower lip as he does. "Right," he scoffs, amused at my expense.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this midday home invasion, Mr. Cleaver?"

"Two-thirty is hardly the middle of the day, (y/n), middle of the afternoon maybe, but-"

"The point. Reach it."

"You don't remember the model number of the speaker set you gave Mark last year for Christmas off-hand, do you? I've been looking for something similar for my flat, they're sold out everywhere, and I've never heard more crisp audio in my life than I have through those speakers."

"Oh, erm... I don't remember it off-hand, actually, we did just move them to the bedroom from the living room, I'll show you where they are. Do you have a pad and pen?"

"Always, lead the way."

I show him upstairs to the bedroom and lean against the doorframe, pointing out the speaker set just across from mine and Mark's bed.

"Just there, check whatever you need."

"Excellent, you're a peach, thank you."

"Anytime."

I watch Daniel investigate the speakers, turning a couple over and writing down some numbers in his moleskine. He then shuffles through the adjacent CD collection a bit before looking over to me.

"What's your poison?"

"I'd rather not."

"Come on (y/n), have some fun, god knows that's gone out the window here now that you and Mark are married." He quips, continuing his search.

"Here, Carly Simon : 'No Secrets', we love a bit of Carly, dont we?" He winks and I can't help but giggle.

He sets the CD into the player and selects a track, pressing the play button. The muted bass intro of  'Youre So Vain' fills the room and Daniel is... it wouldn't be fair to call it dancing but he is definitely... moving to the beat, and -shock horror- extending a hand to me.

'and all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner, they'd be your partner and-' 

I let out a loud laugh as I take his hand and we are twirling, twisting, dancing... having fun. 

He's not the worst dancer in the world and I nearly cackle as he dips me, brings me up, spins me out and back into his arms, and this is nice, actually.

We sway and maybe I've judged him a bit too harshly... he is best friends with Mark after all, how bad could the man be, really?

"Y'know, Mick Jagger subbed in backing vocals on this one..." he speaks into the crook of my neck, low and soothing, his breath warm.

"Did he?" It becomes apparent to me that yes, yes he did. Interesting.

"Mm. It's funny, the song could very easily be about him..."

"I suppose it could be, huh..."

'I had some dreams, there were clouds in my coffe, clouds in my coffee and...'

As we sway, Daniel's body molds to mine, hands finding my hips. I let my eyes close, my hands resting over his. We fit together like puzzle pieces as our fingers interlace and this is nice. It's never like this with Mark.

Daniel's lips ghost the side of my neck and a shiver runs down my spine "Daniel, don't..." I turn around, my eyes meeting his in shock.

"(y/n), darling, relax. We're only dancing. I know for a fact, Mark barely even uses these speakers. Why not let me appreciate what he so clearly doesn't?" he closes the short distance Ive left bewteen us, eyes trailing over me, drinking in my face, my figure. "What he couldn't...possibly..." his eyes capture mine and he leans down, bringing a hand up to stroke my cheek. I don't move. I can barely breathe.

'and when you're not you're with, some underworld spy or-'

Daniel's lips lock to mine and the world goes quiet. Our tongues explore eachother's mouths and he moans and before I realize it I'm unbuttoning his shirt.

Daniel places a hand over mine. "(y/n). wait, wait." A look of genuine concern colors his features as he looks down at me, speaking softly "I just... I want you to know that I like you. Love you, really. Every day I kick myself for not objecting to your vows with Mark. You've completely captivated me since our first meeting. You occupy my mind, always... not just when I'm in the shower. So this... you, wanting me too... it...means something to me." His eyes search mine for understanding and it's there.

I take a deep, shaky breath. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"What could I have said? 'No, Darcy, please don't marry her, I love her more than you do' ??"

His tongue traces his lower lip as his eyes flick to my mouth, and he starts to lean in again.

We shouldn't. This is wrong. I'm married to his best friend. He's an awful person. A total prat. A prat who tastes like cigarettes and Diet Coke. A prat whose hands feel incredible on my ass. A prat, who is currently...unzipping my dress... and whose charm I am utterly defenseless to. 

The dress in question falls to the ground in a heap and I'm stood before him in just my bra and panties. As Daniel looks me over, a low moan escapes him and he gasps.

"Ohh, how I've dreamed of this moment. You are...perfect, (y/n), just...ravishing..." his arms wrap around me again and he nibbles my neck while unhooking my bra, tossing it haphazardly aside.

He drags the freshly dampened panties down my legs and helps me out of them, eyes holding mine as he does. But his clothes are still on.

"Bit unfair, isn't it?" I question.

"Looking to level the playing field?" A grin. Daniel reaches a hand back, closing the bedroom door with a click.

I bite my lip, reaching out to undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt and push it off his shoulders.

His arms are well-muscled, his chest taut and stomach defined. I start to undo his belt, then his trousers, dropping to my knees before him as I do.

I can tell just from the outline of it he is thick and my mouth drops open as I watch his dick strain against the fabric of his black boxer-briefs.

My fingers hook into the sides of the waistband and he takes in a sharp breath as I pull them down his legs, cock eagerly bouncing forth to greet me.

Daniel tilts my chin up so I'm looking up at him again. "Can I ask a favor of you?"  He smirks down at me.

"Yes, Mr. Cleaver?" my best bambi eyes.

"Open your mouth, Mrs. Darcy."

I open wide for him, tongue out, and Daniel laces his fingers into my hair, slowly guiding my head as far down onto his length as possible, in and out, gradually speeding up to a regular pace. I gag when he hits the back of my throat and blink away tears as he continues to roughly fuck my mouth.

"Ohhh, Mrs. Darcy, your tongue feels fucking exquisite... there you go, that's a good girl... take. It. All..." he dips into the back of my throat a few times in a row and when I  gag again, he groans, gasping sharply. His hand is still enmeshed in my hair and he reminds me of it by jerking my head backwards, cock exiting my mouth with a pronounced pop.

Daniel strokes my cheek, taking in the sight of me on my knees, heaving, lips swollen, body buzzing.

"Mm. I think I'm going to have to fuck you now, (y/n). Too gorgeous not to, I'm afraid. Lay back for me, yeah?"

I rest back on the carpet and he follows me down, nipping and kissing down my neck, hands traveling over the contours of my body as he does.

He takes his cock in hand, stroking it a few times as he looks my face over.

"Are you ready for me?" I nod and he smirks, parting my legs. He glides the tip along my vulva, teasing, and lets out a satisfied hum at the slickness of it.

Daniel aligns himself with my entrance and hastily slips his cock inside of me. He is... much larger than I realized and I gasp at the sudden fullness as he begins to steadily roll his hips down into mine.

"Fuck me, that's tight, have you been fucked recently, (y/n)?"

My face is hot, all I can offer is a choked whimper and he smirks down at me.

"That's a no, then. Ah, don't worry pet. Daddy's here and he's going to take very good care of you..."

he murmurs into my neck, pace picking up.

He feels remarkable but it's so much and "D-Daniel?"

"Mm?" He keeps rocking into me,

"I- mmmh, it's- you're just- it's really big, and-" I gasp as his tip hits my cervix.

"Oh? Are you not used to something like this?" He taunts, grinning.

"Bit much for you then?" He gives another forceful buck into me and I moan.

"(y/n), we can stop whenever you like, you just. say. the word..." he pounds into me hard, one hand pinning my hip in place as I wrap my legs around him. " No Daniel, don't stop, please don't stop!" I whine.

"Mm. See, that's what I thought you might say... sound so fucking pretty when you beg for it like that, too..." he keeps railing into me and I gasp, feeling my body start to coil.

"(y/n) I'm going to pull out now, and you're going to turn over for me, yeah?" I nod.

"Good girl."

He pulls out of me and I do turn over for him, arching my hips up and looking back at him.

Daniel runs his hands over my ass, giving it a firm squeeze before guiding himself back into me.

It's easier to take this time, though still a little overwhelming. He pushes into me carefully, slowly, holding my hips steady, and as he fills me out I realize I spoke too soon.

He starts bucking into me again, his strokes commanding as our bodies clap against eachother. "Oh my Gohdd," I groan, tensing around him.

One of Daniel's hands snakes around my hip and his fingers toy with my clit expertly as he continues ramming into me. His other hand grasps a fistful of my hair, yanking back ruthlessly and my entire body is rigid with need as I clench around his cock once, twice.

"You are just... magnificent, (y/n), so wet, so fucking tight, christ, are you about to come?" He slows his thrusts some and I whimper at the change of pace.

"I said, are you gonna come for me?"

"Yesssss, please" I breathe, desperate.

"Please what?" He slows down to a glacial pace, still playing with my clit, torturous, and does he actually expect me to say it? No. There's no way.

"Please what. (y/n)?" Oh my god. He wants me to call him-

"Daddy! Please Daddy, let me come, I need it,"

"There you go, wasn't so hard, was it?" He speeds up again, pistoning into me rapidly, his grip on my hair tightening. "Tell me something (y/n), has Mark fucking Darcy ever made you feel this good? Ever made you crave it the way you do right now?"

"No, never!!" The words leave me before I'm aware I've said them and I wish it wasn't true.

"Who makes you feel like this?"

"You!! Only you, Daniel!!" I whine.

"That's right, now are you going to be a good girl and come for Daddy? I can feel you fucking twitching, (y/n), just. Let. Go."

Orgasm hits like a train and within seconds I'm a mess of pathetic, whimpering contractions beneath him, completely undone.

Daniel slows, letting me ride out the final waves of my climax, hand finally releasing its grip on my hair.

The familiar creak of the bedroom door handle cuts through our shared panting and the dulcet tones of the Carly Simon CD. Mark. No. No. Nonononono, SHIT.

My body goes slack beneath Daniel's and I look back in mortified terror.

Mark stands in the doorway, fuming.

"What the absolute fuck is going on here?"

A beat.

Daniel clears his throat "Oh. Erm. Hah. Mister. Darcy...you're home... earlier than anticipated. This is... awkward." he manages, sheepish.

Mark's eyes widen at the scene before him and I watch his face crumple momentarily as the information sets in.

Me. Ass up for Daniel Cleaver. On the floor of our bedroom. In our home. In the middle of the day. To Carly Simon. Mark exhales through his nose and he's bright red.

"Cleaver. May I speak to you outside for a moment?"

"Outside your wife or outside of the room?"

"You know what the bloody fuck I meant, now get the fuck off of my fucking floor!" He hisses, seething as he steps politely into the hallway.

"Right. Both then." Daniel mumbles into my neck, withdrawing from me and yanking on his clothes to follow Mark downstairs.

My body is hot lead and my head is hazy as I listen to the frantic yelling downstairs, something is thrown, -glass- it breaks, and finally, the front door slams shut. I hear Mark's footsteps bounding heavily up the stairs and I am well and truly fucked. In all manner of ways.

But all I can think about... is Daniel...

Part 2》

[verboselocket38]

To be fair the only reason cheating is ok in recent episode is because it's supposed to parallel Stella & Stolas situation so he's feeling some type of way about it if they didn't have that going on I'm sure they'll be fine with killing them and also aren't they supposed to be a little emotionally grown right now according to Viv or something? 😗 maybe idk and super unpopular opinion don't come at me but cheating isn't a big deal like I heard one guy say once "Who hasn't cheated at least once" It doesn't take away hurt but it's very common and cheating isn't the worst thing someone can do imo genuinely not trying to start a fire but people act like cheating is a crime like how they treated that Berry dude or whatever with Sabrina Carpenter or the Try Guys dude (I don't know his name)

.....Dude what the hell?

Ok first off, just because the cheating is a parallel to Stella and Stolas doesnt mean that The cheating the husband did WAS OK!!!!

Second, if ANYONE says "cheating isnt a big deal 🙄" then they should not be in a relationship EVER. Because your breaking the trust of your partner and not only hurting your partner's feelings, but suprise suprise, YOUR HURTING THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU!!

JUST BECAUSE CHEATING ISNT "the worse thing a person can do" or "is common" DOES NOT MEAN ITS RIGHT! ITS STILL A BAD THING AND SHOULD BE TREATED LIKE A BAD THING.

Do you know the people who haven't cheated once or more when in a relationship? ALOT OF PEOPLE! The ones who do cheat are toxic who dont consider their partner's feelings or the people around them.

IF ANYONE CHEATS WITH YOU, DONT STAY WITH THEM! THEY JUST PROVEN THAT THEY DONT CARE ABOUT YOU FEELINGS WHILE SEEING SOMEONE BEHIND YOUR BACK! ANYONE WHO GETS CHEATED ON HAS THE RIGHT TO BE FURIOUS, SAD, EMBARESSED, HEARTBROKEN, OR ANY OTHER EMOTIONS THEY COULD FEEL WHEN THE PERSON THEY THOUGHT LOVED THEM DECIDED TO FIND SOMEONE ELSE IN THEIR PLACE!

Given how you worded this, you probably havent been cheated on in your life, and genually its a huge red flag to believe cheating is "No big deal."

If you still dont believe me, let me put it like this for the Stolas stans:

If Stolas cheated on Blitzø with Vassago or some other man whatever tf his name is, you'd probably be singing a different tune.

To end this, I just want to say don't come to my blog defending CHEATING and acting like its no big deal. Go somewhere else.

[breathinginsulfur]

(Opinion) stolas hate is based on fandom misinterpretations and not the actual show because when the fuck does he act like a “baby”??

Stolas is probably the most over-hated character in all of helluva boss. And some of the downright incorrect statements i’ve seen about stolitz drive me insane

Despite his childhood abuse, neglect and forced marriage, stolas has always been privileged. He’s set for life with wealth, has butlers and staff who feed him and care for him, and can freely travel through the human realm with no legal issues. Obviously, he’s going to have a skewed perspective on life.

Because of his forced marriage and parental neglect, stolas has never really known what love is meant to be. His father didn’t know his name because he’s a king who has a shit ton of children. Stella never loved him, and he never loved stella. They were only married to have an heir. Stolas has an over-dramatized and romanticized interpretation of love, which i think is where the ‘baby’ misinterpretation roots from. Blitzo didn’t want to fuck him, all he wanted was the grimoire. But stolas didn’t realize this and genuinely believed that his first ever friend was the one who wanted him the most. Can you see how this would fuel his romantic dreams further?

Stolas, to me, was always in love with blitzo. And (hot take incoming) did not look down on him. “But charlie, what about when he said ___?” We can go through all the quotes that supposedly look down on blitzo and i can give my reasoning as to why i dont think he sees him as lesser. Stolas has grown up with imps his whole life (butlers), and it can be argued that these staff had a closer connection to him than his own family. He’s taught to view imps as lesser, as in the hierarchy they literally are, but stolas has no issue with interacting with imps and, of course, letting an imp have intercourse with him. If stolas truly looked down on imps the way people act like he does, he’d interact with blitzo in a COMPLETELY different way. As in, he wouldn’t even treat blitzo like a human. Stolas loves blitzo so much he want to be his partner.

I will say, Hierarchy is a major theme in helluva boss with several callouts to how the ones who are higher up mistreat the lower class. Just look at mastermind. Satan doesn’t let blitzo speak. But andrealphus is allowed to talk as long as he wants. Blitzo would’ve been killed for using the grimoire, but stolas just gets a punishment. Because verbatim “your life has actual value!” It’s such an interesting theme that does not nearly get as much praise as it deserves

Another huge misinterpretation with helluva boss i see is that people think the show is trying to normalize cheating. And i’ll be honest, i can kind of see how this misinterpretation happens. As much as i adore this show, there are some writing flaws.

In my opinion, helluva boss is not trying to encourage cheating on your partners. It’s trying to show you that it’s okay to leave your abusive relationships to better your life. I may talk about this a different time because this post is mainly about stolas but god i love analyzing this show so much i just go on so many tangents.

Of course, stolas’ love for blitzo pisses of Stella. Not because stella actually loves stolas, but because she is proud to be a goetia and wants to uphold her royal, priviliged status and sees stolas as an insult to the goetic line. Her and Andrealphus’s motivation is to uphold goetia standards no matter how corrupt they truly are. They’re rich people. THEY are the ones who see imps as lesser.

THERE IS SO MUCH MORE I CAN GO INTO. How this affects Octavia and why she is justifiably upset at stolas, blitzo’s perspective, themes of the show, etc. if you wanna see my takes on these things LMK!!! I love this show dearly

If you want to counter my interpretation you’re welcome to do so, however please only do it if you’re wanting to do an actual discussion and not just trying to be rude. Some of y’all are so fucking rude to the people who like the show it’s crazy. Just be respectful and i’ll talk to you.