#even for a light skinned mixed girl this is ridiculous...

[koka-mi]

Can my mom do this cool thing called let me go outside and talk to ppl that'd be great thanks

[zaynesparadise]

∯ COCKOLOGY 101: ZAYNE & CALEB !

🫧✱ ݁ ˖ | a simple analysis about papi 1 & papi 2’s schlongs ♡ (i’m giving u full hex colours & measurements.)

pairing. — MDNI (17+) fem!reader x 𝐜 & 𝐳 (separate) warnings. dick measurements, overstimulation, mentions of shaving, mentions of porn, big cock caleb & big cock zayne, omg idk how to put the warnings for this one wc. 1.3k a,n. this is just for fun & obv on the unrealistic side don’t take this seriously. cuz i was laughing the whole time making this anywho enjoy !!!! <3

Ꮺ ZAYNE. firm believer that dr.zayne is on the longer side than the thicker one, don’t get me wrong i am no way calling this man’s dick skinny. it’s very thick but it is for sure hitting ur cervix no matter how unrealistic this sounds. his tip is a solid #e3b1b8 more on the pinkish side cuz have u seen this man’s nipples. they’re so PINK & he’s so paleish pink overall, rest of his cock is #edb8a8 still on the very pale side, transition colour from tip - rest of his inches is #e6a1a1 :3 his mouth-watering 8.2 inches (6 inches soft cuz i said so) (3.2 inches delicious girth wise) has the slightest, almost unnoticeable tilt to the right side that makes ur eyes cross

while we’re on the topic, zayne def shaves. we’ve seen his razor bumps, some days when his skin is a bit more sensitive he just does a simple trim in the shower and calls it a day, one of my hcs is that this man smells good. like you’ll never catch this man smelling off or even bad in your entire life, he takes his hygiene so seriously so i know he smells good everywhere. good quality cotton boxers, ball deodorant when he has longer shifts in the hospital, glycolic acid in every crack and crevice, really musky & light on the nose cologne paired with a nicely scented lotion, over all incredible hygiene.

daily cups of pineapple juice. firm believer that zayne has a lil morning routine ritual where he probably eats a spoonful of sea moss, takes his needed supplements & green juice so why not throw in a cup of fresh & organic pineapple juice to his routine? this man smells and tastes divine. and he knows it, he’s very proud of it and takes his sacred routine very seriously.

side notes: the way that he cums is sometimes sudden to him, zayne is very sensitive so when he’s wrapped around your walls that are continuously milking him he instantly gets lost in euphoria and doesn’t even realise how quick his climax is building up, sometimes he does have the focus to warn you but most times his head is in the clouds and he’s practically just babbling and rutting his hips unconsciously.

cums in warm, filling ropes of milky, almost watery cum. like i said, he takes great care of himself that paired with his obsession with your sweet cunt devouring his cock he cums so for so long, his orgasms are long lasting and intense. by the time the aftershocks of his high wash down his body he’s all over you again, kissing nibbling and licking every part of you that he can :(

not a big fan of overstimulation, but since you are he can’t deny you the fun at all. thing is, like i mentioned before he’s very sensitive, it’s ridiculously easy to make him overstimulated. a simple “you can give me one more, can’t you?” with a wink when you’re riding him is really all it takes. he turns into literal putty in your hands. thigh muscles flexing and sweat shimmering on his abs when he fills you up over and over again just because his pretty girl asked him to <3

his cock when overstimulated turns so red, his natural shade being a slight off pink colour that gets darker when he’s hard and fully crimson when you’re overstimulating him. a few slight, faint veins begin appearing around his base that you love to run your tongue all over just to feel him shiver under your touch, he loves it just as much as you love it.

in conclusion: pretty shaved & regularly trimmed balls, paleish pink 8.2 inches, lemon juice mixed with olive oil shots king and a sucker for pleasing his pretty gf <3

𖧷 CALEB. this man right here should be awarded for not having back pain bcs of the way he’s packing. i am a caleb horse cock truther ✋ 7.2 inches length wise but 4.5 inches girth wise this man is MASSIVE humongous gigantic BIG. he’s really big. (BIG CALEB!) thing is .. i’m also a believer in somewhat inexperienced caleb. he might’ve had a lil thing here and there but it never got serious or anything so he really doesn’t know how fucking huge he is.

(probably found out when he and gideon saw each other naked for the first time and he noticed the way gideon’s eyes were practically about to fall out of their sockets) now don’t get him wrong he’s watched porn and whenever he’s clicked on the “massive cock destroys—“ u get the gist, the dick in question always looked.. average in his eyes? it looked closer in length to his, he might’ve been longer even but that was considered to be massive? #BlessedButDoesntKnowIt #HeHasAWeaponOfMassDestructionAndIsntAware

he never really stressed himself about it, so quick side notes: tip colour #d9a593 more on the tanned side in comparison to zayne but it’s still so pretty rest of his cock is #ba8270 with a slight transition shade of #d99b82, regularly keeps himself trimmed but isn’t too serious or anxious about it, def believe that it’s very, very like extremely veiny. you’ve seen the veins around this man’s abdomen. has so many faint veins decorating his underside, and when i tell u that this man’s cock literally cannot stand upwards fully when he’s erect because it’s so fucking heavy i mean it.

i see caleb to be blessed with incredible genetics, good & decent hygiene but he’s not the type to really eat a spoonful of sea moss or coconut cult in the morning, he’s more like the kind of guy that makes himself green tea while blasting bruno mars at six am in his kitchen tbh. that being said he definitely tries his hardest to take care of himself by going to the gym and drinking water often so he tastes nice wouldn’t say that he’s not on the salty side bcs he for sure is, but it’s still very delicious.

going back to the good genetics & gym rat side; he has his cheat days (that sometimes might extend longer than intended, let a man be lazy for once he deserves it) but even when he stuffs his (godly) body with junk food or stuff that don’t really align with what he usually nourishes his body, it’s still literally perfect. his genetics come into play and it’s like he just had a green goddess salad with a side of cranberry juice, you’re definitely envious of his metabolism.

side notes: the way he cums depends on how he’s been fucking you, if it’s a quickie then it’s going to be an eye rolling orgasm for him. cums frequently one second he’s filling you up with long, thick like heavy ropes of glistening cum the next he’s still hard and fucking his cum deeper into you, on the contrary if he’s taking his time with pounding you against the bed, then he’s going to have a literal toe curling and back arching orgasm. he loves to cum deep inside of your fluttering walls, warm breaths fanning your ear as he keeps filling you up from behind, he cums for so so long if you pressed on your lower stomach you’d feel the way he’s stuffing you full.

is he ready for overstimulation? real question is, is overstimulation ready for him? a literal beast. this man fears nothing and is a freak. overstimulation should actually fear him. his gym obsession always comes in handy when it comes for inhumane stamina, he doesn’t mind fucking both of you dumb till he’s shooting blanks. whimpering, babbling, drooling till he can’t even speak coherent sentences and just mouths at whatever part of you he can reach. doesn’t care if his dick practically looks purple and feels like it’s about to fall off— if he’s overstimulating you both, he’s going to do it till you’re both passed out on his messy mattress.

in conclusion: caleb’s packing in the front and the back (papa packing never lacking), average monster cock, decent hygiene, salty addictive cum 🙂‍↕️

♥︎ : litr wrote this while listening to kitty kat by meg & thatpower by will.i.am so idek + this unserious drabble is dedicated to my caleb big cock believer & the reason why this acc opened in the first place: nia bunny :3 ♡

[thebestsetter]

"Men used to go to war, now they..."

~ Part 2

Isagi Yoichi

...follow you around like a lost puppy.

Need to cook something? Yoichi can help! (Not really, since he doesn't know batshit about cooking and burns everything he touches, but it's the thought that counts, right?) Are you going out? No problem! He's gonna sit put and still on the edge of your shared bed, watching with a fond look as you rummage through your wardrobe trying to find the perfect clothes to go out! (Even though he thinks all of them look perfect on you) Need help shopping? He's already holding all of your bags for you! (Even if he looks ridiculous holding so many bags, but he refuses to let you touch a single one of them). In the end, he's just a lovesick boy who loves acts of service and some good old quality time, so just let him follow you around, yeah?

Chigiri Hyoma

...gossip and do skincare with you.

He literally hates the girls you talk about without even meeting them in real life. Like, what do you mean that Penelope lady cheated on her husband because he was on a 20 days trip? Ridiculous.

Anyways, skincares are a must in your relationship. You guys do it everynight, and, when he's away (for soccer reasons), you facetime to do it. It became a little tradition: he calls you the night before an important game, askijg if you already treated your skin. Then, when you say that you didn't, his eyes visibly, clearly - and a little comically too - light up (even though he already knew the answer. It's the same one everytime. You never do it without him). After that, you both just talk and laugh, trying to calm his nerves down before the game. Most of the times, the call only ends when one of you end up falling asleep. It's honestly cute how comfortable you are with eachother.

He swears he plays better when you do that. His many hat tricks can confirm that.

Nagi seishiro

...can't sleep if it isn't on your lap.

He physically can't anymore, and it makes him pissed.

His sweet pillows that looked oh so comfortable before must as well feel like rocks right now, because NOTHING compares to the fluffiness of your lap mixed with you petting his head. He feels like he's in heaven everytime you do it. He HATES when he's travelling and has to sleep on a 5 star hotel's bed, because how is it SO uncomfortable?? What the heck??

And you can BET the first thing he does when he comes home after his soccef trips is sleep. For a long time. Like, "hibernating" kind of long. One time, you seriously thought he was dead. But it was just the effect your lap has on him. Deal with it.

Reo Mikage

... spend an unholy amount of money on you.

This isn't even surprising. I mean, it's Reo we're talking about: the boy who has more money than what to do with it. And his financial situation obviously reflects on your relationship.

Looked at that hair product for 0.2 seconds more than the last product you saw? He already bought it! Want ice cream? He'll have 4 scoops, please!

The thing is that he was taught money=love (especially by his parents, who tried to make up for their absence by giving him money), so that's what he thought would swoop you off your feet. But it wasn't. It was the tender moments, the gentle kisses on your knuckles, and the goals dedicated to you. So don't think he only gives you money - he gives you PLENTY of quality time too!

Perhaps a part 2 will be written

Masterlist

[twistedreads]

Cowboy heat— nic love island

Summary— When the villa lights blaze for the infamous Heart Rate Challenge, you and Nic turn up the heat higher than anyone expects. But it’s behind closed doors where the real fireworks happen—and Nic proves just how insatiable he can be for the girl who’s stolen his heart…and his head.

Warning—Contains explicit sexual content, oral sex (fem receiving), overstimulation, mild hair-pulling, public sexual teasing, explicit language, and a partner touching himself during sex.

The villa’s lit up with neon lights, music thumping as the Islanders gather around the firepit. Tonight’s the Heart Rate Challenge, and the vibes are downright feral.

You’re sitting with your girls around the fire pit, nerves buzzing like static under your skin. None of you have your costumes on yet—you’re still in your usual villa fits, waiting your turn while the boys go first.

Nic’s somewhere inside with the other guys, getting ready. You haven’t seen him in costume, and he hasn’t seen yours either. That’s the whole point—and the suspense is killing you.

You’re clutching the edge of your seat as boy after boy makes his entrance, each strutting out in ridiculous outfits and grinding to music while the girls squeal and laugh. But your mind keeps drifting to Nic, wondering what the hell he’ll be wearing…and how you’re supposed to breathe when it’s your turn.

Finally, it’s Nic’s name they call. He comes swaggering out in full cowboy mode: a tilted hat over those sharp grey-blue eyes, brown curls peeking out, tan skin glowing under the lights. His denim jeans cling low on lean hips, and the big cowboy belt buckle gleams above a teasing flash of abs.

Your jaw drops. So does everyone else’s.

The music shifts to some dirty beat, and Nic struts into the center of the circle, flashing a wicked grin and running a hand down his body. The girls shriek. The boys hoot and whistle.

He starts swaying his hips, rolling them to the beat, thumbs hooking into his belt loops. His bare chest gleams under the lights as he grins at the screaming crowd, muscles flexing with every twist and thrust.

Your eyes lock across the circle.

He beckons you with two fingers. “C’mere, baby.”

The villa ERUPTS.

Your jaw drops. “Wait—ME?”

“Yeah, YOU.”

You laugh, but your feet move on instinct, heels clicking as you cross the patio toward him. As you step up, Nic’s hands come around your waist, yanking you in. The scent of him—clean, sharp cologne mixed with his warm skin—makes your head spin.

Nic twirls you dramatically and lays you down on the center cushioned bench like you weigh nothing. You’re half-giggling, half-mortified as the crowd shrieks.

Then he leans in, gaze dark, and licks a slow stripe from your ankle, all the way up your calf… your thigh… tracing over the bare skin between the top of your stockings and the delicate lace edges of your one-piece.

You whimper. The crowd goes feral.

He keeps going, tongue tracing over the front of your dress, over your cleavage, and finally up to your neck, where he nips you gently. Your breath hitches, chest heaving.

And then his lips crash onto yours.

He kisses you deep, hot and messy, his tongue parting your lips. And right in the middle of that heated kiss, Nic reaches up and wraps a fist around your braids, tugging just enough to make you gasp.

“Oh my God!” one of the girls screams.

You moan into his mouth, gripping his biceps as the kiss grows filthier. His hat falls off somewhere in the shuffle. His hand fists tighter in your braids, pulling your head back a little, letting him kiss down your neck again.

Your brain’s a melted puddle.

Nic finally pulls back, leaving you breathless on the bench. He’s grinning like the cat who got the cream, curls sweaty and eyes gleaming.

“Heart’s racin’, huh?” he teases.

You shove at his chest, laughing, even though your legs are trembling.

Your pulse is still pounding as you stumble back to your seat, breathless, your lips tingling from Nic’s taste.

The villa is pure chaos.

“BRO, THAT WAS PORN!”

“Nic’s a menace!”

“SEND HIM TO CASA!”

You collapse onto the bench beside the girls, pressing trembling fingers to your lips. You’re still wearing your usual villa fit — a yellow lace jumper — and suddenly you feel so exposed.

Your friends are all over you.

“Bitch. BITCH. The tongue. The BRAIDS.”

“You’re not surviving tonight.”

“Your heart rate’s gonna break the machine!”

You bury your face in your hands, laughing, cheeks on fire. But deep down, there’s a buzzing in your chest. Nic’s scent is still clinging to your skin, your body still thrumming from the feel of his tongue on your thighs.

You barely hear the host over the roaring crowd.

“Alright, Islanders…it’s time for the girls. Y/N, you’re up!”

Your head snaps up. “Wait—ME?!”

“Yes, YOU!”

The girls shriek, shoving you up from the bench.

“Go get changed, hoe!”

“END HIM.”

Your heart’s trying to beat out of your chest as you sprint inside the villa.

Inside, your costume is waiting in a white paper bag on the dressing table. You rip it open with trembling hands.

It’s a nurse outfit.

A tiny white dress that barely covers your ass. Lacy white thigh-high stockings. A red cross emblem over your chest. A tiny nurse’s hat.

You peel off your villa clothes and slide into the dress, gasping as the tight fabric molds to your curves. You adjust your knotless braids over your shoulders and look in the mirror.

Your brown skin glows under the bathroom lights, and your lips are still swollen from Nic’s kisses. You bite down a smile.

Cowboy’s not ready for this.

When you step back outside, the villa explodes.

Nic’s eyes find you instantly. He’s sitting with the boys, hat in hand, looking freshly wrecked from his own performance. But when he sees you, his jaw drops.

“Holy…fucking…shit,” he breathes.

The host calls out, “Let’s see what the Nurse has in store!”

The music slams on — dirty, thumping bass.

You strut forward, hips swaying under the tight dress. The girls scream. The boys go feral.

Nic’s practically vibrating where he sits, eyes glued to the way your braids swing over your shoulders.

When you reach him, you push him gently onto the bench and swing a leg over his lap, straddling him. His hands immediately fly to your waist, fingers digging in like he’s trying to steady himself.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, eyes sweeping over you like he’s starving.

You lean in close, lips brushing his ear. “Time for your checkup, cowboy.”

The villa SCREAMS.

You start moving your hips slowly, not grinding hard, just shifting and rolling against him in a teasing rhythm. Nic lets out a shaky breath, chest rising and falling faster as he watches you, his fingers tightening on your sides.

“Fuck…baby…” he pants, voice rough and low.

Your hands trail over his bare chest, feeling the heat of his skin under your palms. You tilt your head and flash him a wicked smile.

Then you snatch his cowboy hat off his head and slap it onto yours.

Nic’s eyes go wide. “Don’t— don’t do that to me.”

You laugh softly, still rolling your hips in slow, controlled motions, your braids swaying around your shoulders. Nic looks completely wrecked, pupils blown, mouth parted.

Finally, you lean down and kiss him, deep and hot.

The villa goes wild, cheers echoing around you.

When you finally pull back, both of you are breathless, faces flushed.

You hop off his lap, smoothing your white dress as the crowd continues screaming.

Nic just sits there for a second, looking utterly undone, curls sticking to his forehead.

“I’m…fucking…done,” he mutters, shaking his head.

You blow him a kiss, grinning wickedly.

The results come in.

“The Islander who raised the most heart rates tonight… is Y/N!”

The villa LOSES it. The girls tackle you in a screaming group hug. Nic just strides over, pulls you into his chest, and crushes his mouth onto yours.

Nic grins into the kiss. “No shit.”

The villa LOSES it. The girls tackle you in a screaming group hug, shrieking and laughing.

When they finally let you go, you look over and find Nic sitting there, a slow, wicked smile spreading across his face. He’s cheering like the rest, his eyes locked on you like you’re the only person in the villa.

Then he calls out, voice warm and playful. “That’s my girl.”

You can’t help laughing, heat flooding your cheeks as he keeps applauding, grinning like you’ve just made his entire year.

LATER THAT NIGHT…

The villa’s calmed down, music still drifting downstairs.

Nic can’t stop staring at you in that tiny nurse outfit.

You’re heading toward the stairs when Nic grabs your wrist and drags you into the bathroom.

He slams the door shut behind you.

Nic’s eyes are wild as he locks the bathroom door. You’re barely in the room before he’s on you, big hands grabbing your waist and slamming your back gently against the tile wall.

“You’re evil,” he growls, crowding in close. His breath’s hot against your mouth. “You fucking ended me out there.”

You’re breathless, giggling as you shove lightly at his chest. “It’s the Heart Rate Challenge, babe.”

Nic doesn’t laugh. His eyes drop to your lips, dark and dangerous. “Nah. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

Before you can retort, his mouth is on yours — hard.

The kiss is messy, wet, all teeth and tongue. He’s kissing you like he needs oxygen from your lungs. His hands roam your sides, fingertips skating up your ribs until they’re brushing the underside of your breasts through the tight nurse dress.

You gasp into his mouth. Nic takes advantage, tongue plunging deeper. He grabs your braids in one fist and tugs your head back just enough to expose your neck.

“Nic…” you whimper.

He licks a stripe up your throat, then sucks at the delicate skin beneath your ear until you’re shaking.

“Been thinking about this all night,” he mutters. “You struttin’ out in this little fuckin’ outfit…” His voice breaks off as he looks you over, eyes hooded. “I’m down so fucking bad for you, baby.”

Your thighs press together. “Nic, we should go back out there…”

He huffs out a dark laugh. “Fuck that.”

Before you can protest, he lifts you effortlessly, spinning and setting you down on the bathroom counter. The cool stone makes you gasp. Your legs fall open automatically, and he steps right between them.

Nic kisses you again, deeper, his tongue sliding into your mouth while one hand cups the back of your head. His other hand is already dragging your dress higher, fingertips grazing your thighs.

“Nic…” you pant, breaking the kiss. “Someone might come in…”

“Let ‘em,” he rasps, eyes blazing. “Let ‘em hear how good I make you feel.”

His eyes drop to your center, and he lets out a low groan.

“You’re killing me in these, baby.”

You glance down. Your lace panties are still on, the white fabric soaked through where your arousal’s bleeding through.

Nic drags his fingertips over the wet patch, pressing down gently. The contact makes you jump, your hips bucking off the counter.

“Shit,” you gasp.

Nic smirks. “Sensitive, huh?”

You let out a strangled sound as he sinks to his knees in front of you.

“Shut up—”

He leans in and presses an open-mouthed kiss right over your panties, lips hot through the thin lace. You let out a strangled moan, your braids spilling around your shoulders as your head falls back.

He does it again, kissing you through the fabric, then flicking his tongue over your clit, still separated by lace.

Your whole body jolts. “Oh—oh my God…”

He growls low, his breath hot against you. “I can taste you even through these.”

Your moans echo off the bathroom tile. You try to slap your hand over your mouth, but Nic rips it away.

“Don’t you fuckin’ hide those sounds from me.” His voice is a rough snarl, eyes blazing.

He looks up at you, holding your gaze as he presses another lingering lick over your clit. Your thighs tremble violently.

“I wanna hear you.”

The eye contact alone nearly finishes you.

Your hips jerk up from the overwhelming sensation, but Nic just grabs your thighs, holding you still.

He continues licking and sucking through the soaked fabric, his tongue tracing circles over your clit, relentless and focused. You claw at the counter behind you, breath hitching on every gasp.

Finally, Nic curls his fingers into the waistband of your panties.

“Off. Now.”

He tugs them down your legs and flings them somewhere over his shoulder. He tugs your panties down your legs and flings them somewhere over his shoulder.

Before he leans in again, he pauses, one hand resting on your thigh as his eyes flick up to yours. His voice is low, rough but gentle.

“If it gets too much, babe…tap my shoulder, yeah?”

Your chest squeezes at how soft his expression goes, even with his lips still glistening. You nod, breathless. “Okay.”

Nic’s grin turns wicked again. “Good. Now…where was I?”

Before you can even catch your breath, he dives back in.

“Fuck—Nic!”

He licks a slow, devastating stripe right up your bare pussy, groaning like he’s tasting heaven. His tongue moves faster, flicking over your clit, sucking it into his mouth as he moans deep in his chest.

“Shit…shit…” you gasp, legs trembling around his shoulders.

The pleasure’s too sharp, building and crackling through every nerve until you’re trembling all over. Your thighs start to shake uncontrollably, your hips trying to pull away from his mouth as the pressure coils impossibly tight in your belly.

“Nic…I’m—” you whimper, voice breaking.

But it’s too late. Nic growls low, dragging you closer instead, his hands gripping your hips like a vise.

“Oh no, baby,” he murmurs against you, breath hot and wet. “Don’t run now. Let go for me.”

Then he sucks your clit deep into his mouth, tongue flicking in rapid, devastating strokes.

White heat explodes behind your eyes as your orgasm slams into you, ripping a strangled cry from your throat. Your thighs clamp tight around his head, your braids whipping around your shoulders as your back arches off the mirror, body shaking uncontrollably.

Your whole body goes slack as the waves finally start to ease. You’re gasping, chest heaving, vision blurry with tears of pleasure. A shudder runs through you as you try to catch your breath, hips twitching under the soft brush of his tongue.

But Nic doesn’t stop.

Instead, he keeps licking, slower now but just as thorough, dragging his tongue over your oversensitive clit and tasting every drop. His eyes flick up to yours, dark and relentless, as if daring you to try and pull away again.

“Fuck, Nic… I can’t…” you whimper, voice trembling. But he just groans low in his throat and dives back in, tongue working you toward the edge all over again.

“Yes you can baby.”

The pleasure’s so painfully good, you can barely keep your eyes open…but when you finally look down, something catches your eye.

Between his spread knees, Nic’s free hand is buried low, palming himself through his jeans. You realize his hips are subtly rocking, pressing into his own touch as he moans into you.

Your eyes go wide, a hot flush blooming over your chest. The shock and raw desire punch the air right out of your lungs.

“Nic…oh my God…are you—” You can’t even finish, voice breaking as your thighs tremble.

Nic pulls back just enough to answer, lips slick and swollen. His eyes are glassy, pupils blown wide.

“Fuckin’ can’t help it, babe,” he pants. “Look at you…shakin’ for me like that. I’m so fuckin’ hard, it hurts.”

Your stomach flips violently, heat flooding every nerve. The sight of him getting off just from tasting you sends another pulse of liquid want rolling through your body.

Your hips try to squirm away again, overwhelmed, but Nic just flashes a wicked grin and locks his hands around your thighs, dragging you back toward his mouth.

“Uh-uh. Stay right there. Let me finish my meal.”

Then he dives back in, tongue moving in devastating flicks over your swollen clit. The filthy, wet sounds fill the bathroom, punctuated by Nic’s ragged groans as he keeps stroking himself.

“Nic—oh my God—”

He glances up at you while sucking harder, eyes blazing. “Look at me when you cum again.”

That command shatters you. Your second orgasm slams into you like a freight train, ripping a strangled scream from your throat.

Nic keeps going, ignoring your gasping pleas, licking you through every wave of your release. Soon another orgasm quickly rises.

“Give me one more babygirl.”

A pornographic moan releases from your mouth as your third orgasm tears through you, even harder than the first two, your thighs clamping tight around his head as your entire body shakes.

Nic groans like it’s his own release, his hips jerking subtly against his hand as he swallows every drop.

When you finally collapse against the mirror, boneless and shaking, you’re gulping in ragged breaths, your body trembling as the last waves of your orgasm fade.

But even as you’re coming down, you feel Nic’s tongue still moving, only slower and much gentle this time, carefully licking over your sensitive flesh as he tries to clean the mess you’ve made.

A surprised squeal bursts out of you, half laugh, half gasp, as your hips jerk away from his mouth. Your hand flies into his curls, gripping tight as you tug at his head.

“Nic, I swear—” you gasp out, voice trembling, equal parts overwhelmed and wrecked with heat.

He pauses, glancing up at you with those dark, dazed eyes, lips and chin glistening, breathing hard.

“What?” he murmurs, voice husky and playful. “Just tryin’ to clean you up, baby, too much?”

You stare down at him, cheeks flushed, still trembling, a weak laugh bubbling out of you. “Just sensitive, You’re killing me.”

But even as you say it, your voice is low and throaty, thick with a desperate, turned-on edge that makes Nic’s grin go wicked.

He rises slowly, hands sliding up your thighs and around your waist, pressing soft, reverent kisses across your stomach, chest, and neck.

“Good,” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin. “Because I’m never getting enough of you.”

He kisses the corner of your mouth, his eyes blazing with mischief.

“And you love it.”

Despite yourself, you let out another breathless laugh, tugging him closer as he captures your lips in a softer, lingering kiss that leaves you dizzy all over again.

[pythonees]

✦┊ CARDBOARD DREAMING — ethan landry

WARNINGS: 18+, f!soft-bodied!reader, virgin!sub!ethan, drinking, grinding, semi-public, so much plot before the p0rn y'all I'm sorry, this is actually cute af tho

A/N: i am down bad for this doe eyed ghostface you have no idea. ignore the fact that i am once again late to a fandom and just enjoy the fact that i've posted two things so far this year, okay?

also it's so much harder for me to write now, so i can't really tell if i like this or not. oh well.

Loud music thumped around you and into your bones, making your head rattle with the booming, house shaking bass.

In the middle of the makeshift dance floor of a random fraternity, you sway along with your best friend to the beat of the music. It's easy to ignore everyone around you, lost in the shitty party lights. After the busy weeks of classes at the start of the semester, you had gone all out, grabbing the most poofy, princess-like dress you could find at the thrift store, one that was just barely long enough to cover your ass but still tastefully cute.

The long, white wig your friend had forced you to wear (one that sadly did complete the look, not that you would ever admit that to her) was sticking to your bright pink lip gloss every time you moved your head too fast. You've long since tried to keep your hair behind your shoulders, the silky fake texture making it too slippery to stay in place.

Taking a sip of the heavily spiked drink in your hand, you pull your friend closer as she turns her back to you, letting her grind up against you. The fake leather of her cat woman suit sticks to your dewy legs, the body glitter you had slathered on at the start of the night smearing onto the dark fabric.

"I take it cute guy is looking at you?" You say, letting your free arm wrap around her waist when she nods. The cute guy in question is a tall Rugby player from the UK, his curly hair only a few shades darker than his skin and wanted by half the population of the entire University. He had seemed wholly uninterested in every person that flung themselves at him, while still somehow being ridiculously polite about it.

Your friend is nothing if not persistent, and had decided after watching so many people try and fail to win his affections to try a different approach. She instead decided to play the long game, one that seems to be working.

"'m gonna make my move," your friend says, spinning around to face you with a wide grin, "wish me luck!"

You watch as she walks away, holding eye contact with him as she goes past him and towards the back of the house where one of the bathrooms are. You see him stare after her, quickly chugging the rest of his drink before he shoves the empty cup into one of his friends hands, following after her. There are envious looks following after the pair, and you giggle at a girl that actually stomps her foot in anger.

Thankful that you're now sitting down, you adjust the fluffy skirt of your dress as feeling starts to slowly come back to your feet. There are people dancing all around you, a couple curled up on the hopefully drink covered couch and making out. It's honestly kinda gross, her muddy green lipstick for whatever her costume was supposed to be is smeared all over her girlfriends face, mixing horribly with her orange face paint.

Looking away from the green mess, you cast your gaze around the room. Your friend is dancing with Rugby guy, tucked away in a corner so that no one can see that his hand is definitely lower than it should be in public. As you continue to scan the room, you find your gaze meeting with a cute looking knight across the room.

He's standing next to Chad, who's in your calc class and likes to bug you for notes whenever he falls asleep. Which is almost every class. Frankly, it pisses you off, considering he's one of the top students without really even trying. You'd kill him if he wasn't the sole reason you're even passing.

Anyway, the guy next to him, who you think is cute but you can't really tell because you're tipsy and not wearing your glasses, quickly looks away from you and toward Chad. He's clutching the shot glass to his chest, shaking his head as Chad looks away from him and to you. A wide grin takes over his face, and then he's grabbing mystery boy by the arm and dragging him over to the kitchen.

They're gone from your view for only a minute before Chad is directing him out and towards you. The cardboard knight has ditched the shot glass and instead has two red solo cups in his hands, staring down at them like they hold the secrets to the universe.

You try to keep the amused grin off your face as Chad weaves the two of them through the crowd. The open face of his cardboard knight's helmet does nothing to hide the bright flush of his cheeks, spreading along his nose and lighting up his brown eyes. Yeah, he's cute, dangerously so.

“Hello there princess,” Chad says, giving you an obnoxious bow while tipping his hat at you. You lean back in your arm chair, crossing your legs while you take a long sip of your drink.

“Well howdy there partner,” you say, using your free hand to lift the side of your dress in a mock curtsy while still in your seat. You down the last of the sickly sweet drink, licking your lips as you set the plastic cup on a cluttered side table, “and who might this be?”

“This,” Chad says, pulling his friend forward so that he was standing in front of him, the toe of his sneakers bumping against the cheap heels you had bedazzled the night before. He quickly pulls his foot back, mumbling out an apology while keeping his gaze away from yours, “is my friend Ethan, who thinks you look really pretty. Treat my boy well, yeah?”

With that Chad saunters off, probably looking for Tara, leaving you alone with Ethan. Ethan, who looks like Chad has betrayed him in the worst way possible by leaving him there with you.

"Hi, Ethan," you say, giving him a smile and then your name, "you enjoying the party?"

"Oh! It's, uh... it's great!" He says, a cute smile on his face, though you can tell he doesn't really mean what he's saying.

You snort, shifting over in the arm chair to try and make some room for him. It's not much, but you really don't mind the thought of being pressed up next to him, "You don't have to lie, it's not my party or anything. Come sit with me?"

He eyes the spot you made next to you with wide eyes, nodding absently as he squishes into the newly made space. It's a tight fit, just like you thought, so you carefully turn to face him, legs going over his and hanging over the armrest. You hear him suck in a deep breath, the flush on his face somehow going darker.

"Mmm, yeah, parties aren't really my thing. Chad wanted me to come, don't know how he convinced me though..." He says, mumbling down at the cups in his hands. One of which you know is for you.

You giggle, letting your fingers trail over the back of the hand holding the drink closest to you, "Well, I'm glad you came."

"You are? Why?" Ethan's gaze follows your hand, unconsciously pushing into the contact.

"Because every thrift store princess needs their cardboard knight!" You can't help the smug grin on your face when he ducks his head, moving your hand away from his to instead tuck a stray curl back inside his helmet, "Shame you've got this on though, hiding those beautiful curls."

"Oh, uhm. Thank you. Your hair is pretty too. You know, under the wig..." he presses his lips together, eyes flicking up to the wig before they fall to your face. You're happy to find that he's able to hold your gaze, even though he starts to get squirmy when you shift just a bit against him. It takes you a moment to realize that he knows what you look like outside of this party, and you feel jittery excitement knowing you've had his attention before tonight.

"You gonna drink both of those, or are one of them for me?" You tease, giggling when he starts to stutter out a response. Putting him out of his misery, you take the drink when he confirms through his rambling that yes, one of them is for you, "you're so sweet, thank you."

Taking a sip you throw your left arm along the back of the arm chair, letting your long nails dance along his exposed bicep, marveling at the shiver that wracks through him. He takes a drink himself, nose scrunching up cutely when the taste hits his mouth.

"Too strong for you?" You ask, voice muffled by the cup you bring up to take another drink from. He looks embarrassed when he nods his head, but instead of teasing him, you take a hold of his free hand, lacing your fingers together as you get up off the armchair, dragging him along with you.

"Where're we going?" He follows you along without complaint, hand a little clammy as they tighten around yours. You bring him into the kitchen, which is surprisingly empty, and head to the fridge. Bending over a little more than necessary, you fish through the various cans of sodas until you find one that's just a carbonated lemonade, making a show of straightening up slowly to give Ethan ample time to stare before you turn to face him.

Despite how slow you were, you're still able catch his gaze as it snaps back up to your eyes, but you pretend not to have noticed as you hand him your drink so you can open the can.

Taking a light hold of his wrist, you guide his hand down so that you can see into his cup, one that was filled significantly less than yours was. You pour in the fizzy drink right up to the top, pouring the little bit that's left into your own cup when you take it from him.

"There, that should taste a bit better," you say, smiling up at him as you step into his space. He nods jerkily, taking another go at the spiked punch. His face doesn't scrunch up, and he looks pleasantly surprised as he takes another drink.

"So?" Even without his response you know it's better, but he's got a nice voice, one you want to keep hearing. It's even better when he's flustered and stuttering, so you slide up to his side, staring up at him with his arm brushing your breasts.

He's only able to nod, eyes now locked onto where you're pressed against him, no doubt getting an eye full of your cleavage. You let him have his fill, keeping your smile innocent when he looks back at your face.

"Good," you say, taking his hand again and leading him to the outskirts of the makeshift dance floor, "I'm glad."

He follows behind obediently, and you make sure to add more of a swing to your hips for him to appreciate. You see Chad as you guide Ethan to the darkened corner, pretending you didn't see the wink and thumbs up he gives Ethan as you pass.

There's a little area in the corner of the room that isn't overly crowded, so you guide him over there before someone else can settle into the space. Smiling up at him through lowered lids, glossy bottom lip between your teeth, you sway to the music. The blush that had been slowly fading from Ethan's face is back in full force, eyes unable to stay in one place as they flick to and away from you.

You loop your arms around his shoulders, cup held loosely in your hand behind his head as you press right up against him. The cardboard scrapes against your exposed upper thighs as you move, though you ignore the discomfort when Ethan starts to hesitantly follow your movements. They're jerky and uncoordinated, but he looks adorable, concentrating hard on being able to follow your movements.

You keep it simple, not wanting to overwhelm him too fast. So you're pleasantly surprised when you feel the hesitant touch of his free hand as it settles on your waist, just barely resting there but touching you all the same.

There's cheering from the other room, loud and obnoxious and the perfect distraction you need. You tug at Ethan's neck, a pleasant thrill going through you when he dips his head down without hesitation. You don't even have to push up onto your toes, your heels making you tall enough that you can comfortably whisper into Ethan's ear, "I really want to kiss you right now."

"You- me?" He sputters around his words, cheeks flaming hot when he pulls back to look at you. You wait patiently, though you've been desperate to get your mouth on this doe eyed boy for so long you feel like you're about to explode, "Really?"

"Yes, really," you coo, shuffling close enough to press yourself firmly against his cardboard covered body, smiling when the hand that was still gently resting on your waist moves to press at your back.

"Yeah. Yes, yes please," he nods along with his words, cringing at the tinge of desperation that coats them. You don't mind though, more than happy to know that someone as pretty as him is this desperate for just a kiss.

Wanting to see how far it could go, you start at his chin, glossy lips smoothing along his clean shaven skin. The next is pressed to the corner of his mouth, and you struggle to contain your smile when you hear the small whine he lets out at the touch.

Meeting his gaze, you find his half lidded, bottom lip bright pink from being gnawed on between his teeth.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," you sing, quickly shoving your drink at a random passerby before you tuck your hands under the sides of his helmet, cupping his cheeks as you guide his lips to yours. They're soft and plush against yours, tangy from the lemon flavoured soda mixed into his drink.

Gently taking his bottom lip between your teeth, you revel in the moan he lets out when you pull back, giving him a flirty grin before going back in. Behind you, you can hear his cup drop to the ground, ignoring the feeling of the cold liquid splashing up the back of your legs. You run your tongue along his lip, soothing where you bit him. It has Ethan gasping, mouth open just enough for you lick into his.

After that it's a mess of teeth and tongues, uncaring of the people moving around you, lost in the heat radiating off of him. All you want is to run your hands all over Ethan. His homemade costume keeps you from feeling his chest against yours, and you groan in annoyance.

Gently pulling your hands out from under his helmet, you tug it up and off, holding it in one hand as you tuck your head into is neck.

The gasp he lets out when your lips graze along his skin has your thighs pressing together, makes you wonder just what other sounds you can get out of him. You run your hand through his curly hair, long nails gently scraping against his scalp, pulling a long moan that he has to muffle against your neck so that anyone close to you can't hear him.

His hot breath dances along your skin, tiny whines escaping as you bite at his neck, sucking a mark that will be too high up to hide on his pale skin. You can't wait for everyone to see it tomorrow morning.

"Hey," you whisper, pulling back a little to look at him. His eyes are half lidded and unfocused as he stares back at you, pink dusting along his cheeks and nose, "it's a little hot in here. Wanna go outside? Get some air?"

You don't know if he's really even hearing the words that come out of your mouth, gaze fixed to your lips void of the lip gloss that has been smeared onto his neck and face. He nods though, and that's all you need. Thankfully you were already near the backyard, grabbing his hand and pulling him through the open sliding door and past the few people loitering around.

It's cool out, a shiver running down your spine when a breeze dances over your flushed skin. Keeping a tight grip on Ethan's hand, you guide him to the back corner of the yard and to what used to be a storage shed. You know from being to a few parties here that it has been transformed into a bit of a lounge, if you could even call it that. There's a table and futon in there, with a mix of different garage sale armchairs and bean bags squeezed in.

Thankfully, it's empty when you open it, and the lingering smell of weed from the last hot boxing isn't as bad as you expected it to be. The futon isn't turned out, but you don't really care, gesturing for Ethan to sit while you close and latch the door behind you.

When you turn back Ethan's staring down at the ground while he's got a hand in his hair, musing up his beautiful curls. You gently place his cardboard helmet on the coffee table, moving to kneel next to him on the couch, facing him.

"There, this is much better," you whisper, shuffling forward so that your knees brush against his thigh. You can hear his gulp, failing to fight down your smile at the sound. Before he has the time to possibly get embarrassed over it, you cup his face in both of yours, kissing him again.

Now alone, without the possibility of people watching and potentially spooking Ethan, you're able to be a bit more... aggressive with your affections. Thumbing over the already blooming bruise you left on his neck, you lick into his mouth when he lets out a sweet moan. He's a little sloppy as he kisses you back, hesitant as his tongue slides along yours.

It's cute, the way he tries to copy your movements, has you humming happily into the kiss at every moan you're able to pull from him. You can hear the creek of the old metal frame beneath you as you push up on your knees, swinging your leg over his to settle on his lap.

It hikes up your already short skirt, ass exposed to the cool air of the shed. His erection presses into your core as you push your body into his, rolling your hips in the process. Ethan pulls away from you with a gasp, face bright red and his hand firmly planted on your hips to keep you from moving again.

“Shit, I- I'm so sorry. Fuck. I, uhm…” Ethan looks mortified, and when you smile at him, amused at his stuttering, he looks like he would have run out there if it weren't for you sitting on his lap.

The quick kiss you place on his lips quickly shuts him up, though it isn't much of one with the way you're still smiling.

“I'd be a little offended if you had no reaction to me,” you mumble, trailing kisses down along his jaw to bite at his neck. It has his breath shaking, lips firmly pressed together to try and muffle his moans, “especially with what I have planned for you.”

He looks confused when you pull away from his neck, so you just take one of his hands that were fisted in his pants, guiding it to the zipper on your side. Ethan's fingers are unsteady as he grasps the metal between his fingers, slowly pulling it down until it stops right at the swell of your hips. You pull the dress down over your breasts, letting him get his fill as you work at pulling apart the surprisingly intricate cardboard costume.

Ethan doesn't move to help you, too busy staring down at your chest, nipples pebbled in the cool night air. It's only when you start tugging the cardboard up that he seems to come back to himself, looking away from you as he lifts his arms. When his arms come back down to his sides you play with the collar of his polo, making sure your arms are tight against the sides of your breasts to perk them up a bit.

“Can I take this off too?” You whisper, letting your fingers dip underneath to graze along Ethan's flushed collarbone.

Ethan nods, a hoarse little ‘yeah’ escaping his lips as he again lifts his arms for you to tug the shirt up and off. Once it's out of the way you press your chest right up against his, smiling when his breath seems to get caught in his throat.

“You can touch me if you want,” you say, smoothing your hands across his shoulders and down his surprisingly defined biceps. Though you suppose with a roommate like Chad, it's likely he got dragged into quite a few gym trips after they became friends.

You bring your lips back to his, hands roaming between your body's to trail over his chest and stomach before going back up. Ethan's hesitant as he kisses you back, hands still on your hips before they slowly smooth up your sides. His thumbs come to sit right under your breasts, and you press yourself harder against him to try and encourage him to move that last little bit and touch you.

It's the tiny plea that escapes your lips as you take a quick gulp of air that makes Ethan more confident, mouth working against yours with more intent as his hands finally palm at your breasts. The happy hum you let out causes Ethan to smile against your lips, warm fingers moving to tweak your nipple.

Each moan and sigh you let out has Ethan moving with more and more confidence, touch firmer and kisses rougher. When you pull back to get much needed air, Ethan dips down to mouth at your neck, his ragged breaths cooling the spit on your skin as he moves further down.

You sit up on your knees to bring your chest level with his face, and Ethan moans at the sight. He presses a quick kiss right above your left breast, no doubt feeling the erratic beating of your heart, then moves down to take your nipple into his mouth. His tongue laves over the soft flesh, a soft moan vibrating against you as you push him firmly into your chest with a hand on the back of his head.

He suckles and runs his teeth over you until your skin is tingly, then swaps to the other nipple. You drop down into his lap before he can get lost in your flesh, settling back onto his erection with a satisfied moan. As you connect your mouth to his neck, teeth working at the skin to ensure he's bruised when you're done with him, you roll your hips against his.

Ethan's hips jerk up into yours, the seam of his jeans pressing right up against you perfectly. He tucks his face into your neck, breathing deeply as he wraps his arms around your waist. You're pulled flush against him, so you aren't able to really move, but Ethan doesn't seem to mind.

“Fuck, you feel so good against me,” You moan when you pull away from his neck, admiring the red splotches and teeth marks left behind, “Feel even better if you took these jeans off.”

“Yeah?” He breathes, looking at you in wonder. You can't help the giggle that escapes you, shifting back so you can get at his jeans. You undo the belt and unbutton the jeans, sliding off his lap to stand in front of him so he can take them off. As you stand, gravity pulls at your dress, and you tug at it just enough so that it can get over the swell of your hips and pool into a sparkly mess on the ground.

You're left in just your panties. And while you weren't expecting your night to go quite like this, you're very glad you decided to wear the cute, lacy pastel ones instead of something ugly and comfortable. Having Ethan gawk at you is a confidence boost like no other, letting him have his fill for a few seconds before you slide back into his lap.

With only your underwear in the way, the friction between you when you roll your hips into his is mind numbingly delicious. The wet spot in your panties makes it so they're basically non-existent, the glide smooth.

Ethan's mouth hangs open on a moan, gaze locked onto where your hips bring together. His hands fly up to grip your hips, but they just hold you, letting you set the pace as you continue to roll your hips against his. You plant your hands firmly on his shoulders, using them for leverage as you grind down into him.

You can't help the sounds falling from your lips, whines and gasps as you desperately rut yourself against his thickness. Every guy you've slept with before has never made you this desperate before, but being in this dingy shack with Ethan has you falling apart with him even being inside of you.

It takes more effort than you'd like to admit to slow your hips to a stop. You nearly start back again at the desperate whine Ethan lets out, his hips rolling up into you and forcing a gasp from your lips.

“As good as that feels, I really wanna get you inside of me,” you drop your gaze to your lap, hands trailing down his shoulders and along his chest before you let your fingers run along the band of his boxers, “Bet you'd fill me up so good.”

And you're not even lying. Even when he still had his jeans on you could tell he was thick, but now you can feel and see the outline of him in its entirety, and you can't wait for the full acke that will surely come with him stretching you out.

“Please,” Ethan whines, his hands sliding back to grab handfuls of your ass to push your hips down against his. Your eyes flutter shut, losing yourself in the feeling as you let him guide you, head dropping to his shoulder. Toes curling in your shoes, you lift up off of his lap to stop the orgasm you can feel building.

The whine Ethan lets out in protest is short lived as you yank at his boxers. His hands leave your ass to push them down far enough to free his erection, and you damn near salivate at the sight of him.

He's thicker than you've ever had, veiny and with a flushed head that's dripping precum.

It takes some very unsexy maneuvering to get your panties off without getting off his lap, but you're reluctant to lose his touch for even a moment. He helps guide them off, hands running over your thighs when your panties are out of reach. You let them hang off of your foot, too lazy to take it off or let it fall onto the dirty ground.

Slowly, you settle back onto his lap, making sure that his cock is nestled right between your soaking lips. It has the desired effect, a shaky moan escaping him and his head drops to your neck. You cradle the back of his head with one hand, the other gripping the back of the futon as you slowly roll your hips.

“A-ah, fuck,” Ethan whines, his hands bruising as they tighten on your hips, pulling you down into him. You aren't able to move, but the angle he has you at while he ruts up into you is enough to have you moaning along with him.

Grabbing a fistful of hair, you pull his face from your neck, smiling at the flushed, blissed out look on his face. “Sit tight, okay? Gonna see if there's any condoms in here.”

There are two side tables here. The first is full of rolling paper and random bits of weed that have fallen out of the grinders. You hit the jackpot with the second, quickly checking to make sure it's not off date before you pull a packet out and rip it open.

When you turn back Ethan has a tight grip around the base of his cock, eyes half lidded as he watches you move around the small room. When you move to put the condom on him he quickly shakes his head, holding his hand out to take it from you.

“Can’t. If you touch me I'll- I don't wanna, not yet.” You hum, letting him have it as you climb back onto his lap. His hands are unsteady, but he's able to slide the condom on in one go.

You don't give him any time to relax, shuffling forward to press yourself against him, your dominate hand gripping the futon once more. The kiss you press to his lips is a distraction, wanting to settle the racing of his heart that you can feel against your chest. Once his hands are steady as they roam across your skin, you reach back, grabbing a hold of him to line him up with your entrance.

The second you touch him he reacts, hands that were feeling up your thighs seize up, fingers digging into your skin. You make sure to go slow, for both of your benefits. Despite how bad you wanna find out if taking him all at once would make him cum on the spot, you don't think you would recover from his girth, even with how wet you are.

With every bit of him you take, it feels like the air in your lungs is being forced up out of you.

“Fuck. I'm not - I don't think I'm gonna last,” Ethan whines, head ducked so he can watch where he disappears inside of you.

As you fully settle into his lap, you have to take a moment for the both of you to get accustomed to the feeling. You've never felt a burn like this since you had lost your virginity, the tingles of pain seeming to heighten your pleasure.

You keep up the slow pace, rocking back and forth on his lap. Ethan's biting his lip so hard he'll surely draw blood, still watching where you're connected. Pulling his bottom lip out with your thumb, you give him a quick kiss, before you plant your hands firmly on his shoulders.

The fake dollar store rhinestones on your heels dig into the fat of your ass as you start to bounce on his lap. Ethan's head is thrown back, neck littered in your bites as he moans and whines in tandem to your movements. Your fingernails are surely leaving marks on his skin, but he doesn't seem to mind. If anything, he gets louder every time you drag pink lines across his skin.

You aren't any better. Gasping and cursing each time he bottoms out, you feel like you're being split in two. Each time you lift off of him you can feel the sticky trails of your arousal that connect you two together. Tomorrow you'll feel bad for whatever poor soul discovers the mess you two are sure to leave behind.

Ethan's hands have migrated to your ass, helping you move along his length. He's babbling now, words all jumbled together. Slowly, he's just cursing over and over, hissing a desperate “shit shit SHIT” before his hands press flat against your back, holding you to him as he cum la into the condom.

You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, clenching around him at the feeling. He whines, mouthing at your neck to try and muffle the sound.

You cup his face, guiding him to look at you. The red that's taken over his face is adorable, and you tell him as much before kissing him. When you pull back he's pouting at you, a hand moving from your ass to trail between you.

“You didn't cum,” he says, thumb slipping down to nudge at your clit. The slight touch after being denied an orgasm has you gasping, clenching around his surprisingly still hard cock.

With a hum you roll your hips into his touch, watching him with a small smile, “Nights still young, I think you can figure something out.”

©︎ pythonees — do not, under any circumstance, repost, plagiarize, modify or translate my work.

[lymtw]

Nonsexual Intimacy

Thinking about those soft, nonsexual, intimate moments where you and Toji are lying in bed, with you on top of him. You're straddling him and your arms are thrown over his shoulders, clinging onto him like a little koala. Your face is buried in his neck and your eyes are shut as you bask in the warmth of his body.

"What's wrong, baby?" He asks, letting his arms come up to rest on your back. Having Toji's arms around you was like leaving every bad thing you've ever experienced behind. He radiated the warmth of a thousand suns, and it soothed you like nothing else.

You didn't respond to his question, instead your lips pressed to his neck, brushing against him with the gentleness of a light breeze. You're smart enough to know that if you kiss him too hard, it'll start a fire in a moment where one isn't necessary.

He's smiling, softly, at your sign of affection. His palms rub your back, comfortingly, with little to no pressure. Toji is all for having sex with you, all the time and anytime. He's well versed in this method of intimacy with you, but he's not an emotionless machine. He recognizes well enough when you need more than an orgasm. He understands that you have a heart, and sometimes it needs to be tended to, regardless of whether it's damaged or not. Sometimes you just want to feel loved, and when times like these are presented to him, who is he to ridicule you for needing him?

He chuckles, softly. "Just wanna love on me, don't you, baby?"

His hands lower to the hem of your shirt, sliding beneath it to get to the warmth of your bare skin. The tranquilizing motions on your back return.

"Just need you to be with me, right now," you mumble into his neck. "I know this probably seems weird, but I just wanna stay like this for a while."

"Shh... you're alright, my sweet girl. We can be quiet for a bit."

You go back to lazily kissing his neck. You can feel his heartbeat thrumming against your lips, a rhythm that makes your own heart start to pick up that same pace. You take a deep breath and slowly let it out, pausing your movements to appreciate the distinct smell of his cologne. It makes you want to squeeze him until he can't breathe, or at least attempt to squeeze him that hard.

"Toji," you say, quietly, like you're saying it to yourself.

"Hm?" He responds, stilling his hands.

"Nothing. Just wanted to say your name. I like saying your name."

Another laugh rumbles through his chest, the movement shaking you a little. "It's yours to say."

"Can I keep saying it? Until it doesn't sound like a name anymore?"

He smiles, pulling one hand out of your shirt to place it on the nape of your neck. "By all means. Don't need my permission."

You giggle, the sound so clear beneath Toji's ear. If he had the warmth of a thousand suns, you had the beauty of the night's guiding moon.

"Toji," you say, softly. After every repetition of his name, you ghost your lips all over his neck. Toji thinks he could stay like this for longer than a bit. He feels at ease, knowing you're there, acting as his most cherished blanket. He feels so light, like he's not even in his body anymore. You don't even know how happy he is. You can't see the soft smile on his face and how it's failing to disappear.

"Toji," you repeated one last time.

He had lost track of how many times you said his name, but not once did he get tired of hearing it. He wanted to answer your call, this time. "Yeah, baby?"

"Love you."

In all your gentleness and loving, you offered him serenity, and he enveloped himself in it. If your love could be bottled, he would live off of it. He would cook it into his every day meals. He would blend it into his protein shakes. He would bathe in it. He would mix it with his cologne. He would live off of it like it's the secret to a life spent with you loving him the way you do. So what if he's addicted? It seems like the perfect way to go.

Toji could hear your light breathing. You stopped kissing him, and your arms went limp on his shoulders. You fell asleep. It was a common occurrence whenever you shared moments like these with him. It was the security, and his embrace, and his warmth, and his scent... all things that made you feel safe enough to doze off.

He pressed multiple quick kisses to your temple. Both of his arms returned to your torso, wrapping around it with a slightly tighter hold than before. "Love you, too, mama," he muttered against your temple. He ended up falling asleep to the sound of your breathing.

[rebelwrites]

Just Come Home

Jax Teller x Reader

A/N I know I made you wait ages for this and I’m sorry, my muse decided to fuck off again 😂

Everything was wrong.

This wasn’t how your life was meant to have panned out, but here you were, standing in the bridal suite of some overly posh stately home, wearing a dress you hated, waiting to walk down the aisle to someone who you didn’t love.

You didn’t even recognise the person staring back at you in the reflection.

The dress was pure white and felt like a giant lace tablecloth, itching every part of your skin. You felt like the high conservative neckline was cutting off your airway and there wasn’t a hair out of place. All of your tattoos had been purposefully covered with the long sleeves hiding your true colour and your past that your ‘family’ saw as a stain.

It was official your life was over

The fire you held for life had been extinguished all because you bit your tongue and didn’t tell the person who held your heart just how you really felt.

Every single day you drowned in regret of walking away from your soul mate and your one true family, but it was the only way of you being able to protect yourself and your heart. You couldn’t sit around watching him with a different girl every night so you did one thing you never thought you’d do, go back to the people that were no longer family.

The moment you walked back into that ridiculous mansion you knew you didn’t belong. From that dark day your so-called parents organised a sham marriage and ran some stupid press release stating that you had seen the light, repenting your sins and had finally come back home leaving your rebellious phase in the past but they still looked at you with hate in their heart, it was like you were a piece of shit on their shoes or a stain they couldn’t get out no matter how hard they tried.

They hated the fact you had been arrested multiple times and had a long rap sheet to accompany the nights you spent in a cell. So just like that you woke up one morning to the news they had spoken to a judge and had got your record expunged, no doubt they had paid a pretty penny to get your past hidden.

It was a fresh start you never wanted or asked for.

All you wanted to do was pick the phone up and rang the person your heart was screaming out for but you buried the feelings and temptation. Letting out a shaky breath you fumbled around in your bag pulling out your crumpled pack of smokes, yet another thing they despised but it was one thing you refused to give up.

Placing the cigarette between your blood red lips you quickly lit the end, taking a long drag letting the smoke fill your lungs. You knew you weren’t allowed to smoke in the room but you didn’t give a fuck, your mind was spinning and you had no where else to turn.

“I wish,” you breathed, trying not to let the tears roll down your cheeks, you weren speaking to anyone in particular but you just needed to get the words out. “I wish so could tell you how I feel”

All of a sudden it felt like the walls were closing in on you, letting your eyes flutter closed as the room suddenly filled with the one scent you would never forget.

Tobacco, leather and whisky mixed with the spicy scent of his cologne.

It was the best smell in the world and without turning around you knew who was standing behind you, you didn’t have a clue how he managed to sneak into the room let alone the stately home especially with the amount of security that had been hired to keep the trouble out, making sure today went perfectly.

“Fuck me,” that familar voice finally breathed after what felt like an eternity had passed, “you look breathtaking.”

Every single hair on your body was standing on end hearing him say those words, all you wanted to do was run into his arms but you were frozen to the spot. The only thing your body would allow you to do was open your eyes.

Turning your gaze to the mirror you took a long drag of the cigarette as you locked eyes through the reflection.

There he was, the person who owned your heart, leaning against the large wooden door frame. Leather hanging perfectly from his shoulders and a sad smile on his face.

“Hi Darlin’,” he hummed, not moving from his spot, “it’s been awhile, you aren’t an easy person to track down.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to be found,” you huffed, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You both knew that was a lie and you were just protecting your pride. There were two people that knew where you were, and both of them knew what today was. There was always a risk of keeping in contact with Gemma and Chibs, that risk had now reared its head but deep down maybe this was what you wanted. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” he whispered, pushing himself from the door frame, taking a couple of large strides across the room, closing the space between the two of you. The air was being sucked out of the room and the tension was building between the two of you, like a pot on the stove waiting to boil over. “This wasn’t how things were meant to play out.”

Letting out a shaky breath you finally turned around to face Jax, the moment you stared into his blue eyes you felt your resolve starting to crumble. It was like nothing else mattered. The words were caught in your throat, you had so many things you wanted to tell him, or more so scream but no matter how hard you tried nothing came out.

“I’ve been lying to myself for years, sunshine,” Jax whispered, tears glistening in his eyes as he slowly reached out, taking your hand in his. The moment he linked his fingers between yours, you felt your stomach erupt with fireworks. “In fact I think we both have, I heard you say you wish you could tell me how you feel.”

It was like your heart knew what was happening but in this moment you were pissed off, why now? Why today? You had so many questions and not enough answers.

Once again you found yourself biting your cheek because when you and Jax caught it was like you were setting the world on fire.

“Sunshine,” he breathed, brushing his thumb over the top of your hand, his voice was low and you could tell he was trying not to cry, “I have fucked up so many ways, I should have told you this years ago, but I fucking love you,” he paused finally letting the tears roll down his cheeks, “I always have.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, those 3 words you had longed to hear but for some reason all that filled your veins as anger.

““You love me?” You repeated, taking a step back putting some distance between the two of you, pulling your hand out of his. Pinching the bridge of your nose you tried not to let the tears fall down your face, taking a deep breath trying to keep your temper at bay. “Then why the hell did you let me believe you fucking didn’t?”

Jax roughly wiped away the tears, the sad smile once again making an appearance, he stayed quiet for a moment whilst he put a cigarette between his lips, extending his hand out to offer you one, which you accepted needing a distraction.

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he admitted, struggling to make eye contact at this point, “but I fucked that up didn’t I?” he half laughed, trying to hide the pain, “I ended up losing you anyway, ended up losing my best friend, the people my heart has been screaming out for since we were teens.”

“Why today?” Out of all the questions you had that was the only one that would come out. “You could have found me any day in the past year but instead you came on my wedding day.”

Jax knew as well as you did, you didn’t belong here, you belonged back in charming, on the back of Jax’s bike or in the garage with your hands covered in grease as you worked on your latest project car.

“Because this isn’t you, sunshine,” he whispered, every time he used the nickname he had for you, your heart wanted to explode, “Mom told me by the way, I think she hoped that it would bring me to my senses and I guess it did,” he sighed, once again fighting the tears. “I know we have a lot to talk about and I’m not expecting you to become my ol’ lady overnight but please just come home, back to the family you deserve and where you belong.”

All you wanted to do was be back in Charming, being able to be your true self.

“I don’t have any other clothes,” you whispered, laughing slightly, “all I have is this god awful dress,”

“You still took my breath away,” he smirked, shrugging the back pack from his shoulders, leaving you confused on how you didn’t notice that when he first entered the room. “But it’s not something you’d pick, it’s urm, too white for a start,” he chuckled, dropping his focus to the backpack, “good job I brought you this,” he winked, throwing the bag to you.

You caught it with ease and found yourself pulling out a pair of ripped skinny jeans, your cut off Samcro vest top and a pair of brand new air force ones. “You came prepared,” you hummed, dropping the bag and instantly pulling the millions of pins out of your hair.

“I wasn’t going to take no for an answer,” he smirked, walking across the room until he was now behind you, offering a hand in taking your hair down before he found the zip of the dress. His movements were slow and excruciating, your skin was erupting with sparks as he pulled the zip down to your hips. “Now come on, get changed I’m sure I heard someone calling your name.”

You had never gotten changed as quickly as you did in that moment, the minute you pulled the denim over your body you started feeling more yourself, you were done and you were going home and nobody could stop you. Taking one last glance in the mirror you could help but laugh as you found yourself actually liking the makeup, it paired well with your edgy look. Smirking to yourself, you ran your fingers through your hair giving it a good shake, the old you was back!!

“Why aren’t you ready yet?” Your ‘father’ screamed as he saw the expensive gown crumpled in a pile on the floor.

“Well, Reginald,” you sneered, standing with your shoulders back feeling you could take on the world, “I don’t belong here, so fuck you, and fuck this wedding!”

“You are making a big mistake,” he growled, trying to step closer to you but Jax was quicker, acting like a human shield.

“You take on more fucking step and I will put a bullet between your goddamn eye,” Jax snarled, venom dripping on every word, “now move out of the fucking way because I am taking this angel home back to her really family.”

“Angel?” Reginald questioned, raising a brow as he followed Jax’s orders, “she’s the fucking devil reincarnated.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his comment, if only he knew half of the things you got away with during your teenage years. One thing was for sure it would have put him in an early grave.

“Let’s get one thing straight here, Regi,” Jax said lowly, “us Tellers have a thing for the devil,but if I ever hear you call my sunshine that again I will end you.”

Nothing else was said after Jax’s 2nd threat, which wasn’t surprising knowing how wimpy your biological family was, your heart was practically beating out of your chest watching the man you have loved all your life defend your honour.

You didn’t know what life was going to hold from this moment on but all you knew as you linked your fingers with Jax’s that things could only get better from here.

You were finally going home.

@chibsytelford @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @withmyteeth @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @princess76179 @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @princess76179 @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @lmao-liz @babypink224221 @daddysgirl2857 @bravo-four-seal-team @garbinge @pedrohoe04 @littlekittymeow @nichia88-blog @zozebo @burningcupcakefire @ohthemisssery @stillbreathin

[lilirae00]

No Matter the Miles - Part 2

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: a little angst (sorry)! 

a/n: sorry about the light angst in this one, but I promise it’s all for a reason. These two will always find their way. Hang on tight. 

Masterlist

–

After sitting together on the edge of the bed in that heavy silence, fingers laced tight, breathing in the dark until their shoulders finally eased just enough to unclench, hunger crept back in—awkward and insistent. 

Neither of them said much, but eventually Paige mumbled something about needing food so they wouldn’t keep crying on empty stomachs. 

Azzi nodded without argument. She didn’t want to let go of Paige’s wrist, but she did, reaching for her phone instead to order pizza.

Now the empty box sat discarded on the worn carpet like proof of their shared surrender, grease stains marking territory in the faded pattern. 

The room smelled like cheap tomato sauce and melted cheese that clung to the air, mixing with the stale motel funk and the hum of the tired AC unit.

Paige flopped back on the bed with a theatrical groan, her limbs sprawling everywhere like she’d been shot. 

The movement jostled the sagging mattress and Azzi had to steady herself with a hand on the lumpy pillow.

She shook her head at Paige’s antics, but there was no real anger behind it.

She watched her—this ridiculous girl with sauce still clinging to the corner of her mouth—and felt that old, exasperated fondness coil tight in her chest. 

Paige was disgusting. And she was hers.

“You’re disgusting,” Azzi muttered, trying for flat and unimpressed, but the warmth in her voice gave her away.

Paige didn’t even open her eyes. She just sighed out a muffled, contented moan against the pillow. “Full,” she mumbled, voice dragging like sleep was coming for her.

Azzi’s legs protested as she stood, joints cracking after sitting cross-legged for too long on the mattress. She winced, rolling her shoulders, the day’s weight settling in slow. 

She stretched deliberately, arms over her head, spine popping. 

She didn’t miss the way Paige’s half-lidded eyes cracked open to watch her, pupils dilating at the sliver of skin her shirt rode up to reveal.

Azzi fought a smirk and pointedly didn’t look at her. “Don’t even think about it,” she warned, reaching for the empty pizza box.

Paige let out a pathetic whine. “But you’re so—”

“No.” Azzi stacked their crumpled napkins on top of the box with precise, pointed movements. 

She sounded like she was scolding a dog. “Bathroom. Now. We’re cleaning up before bed.”

Paige groaned even louder, dragging it out just to be annoying. “You’re so bossy.”

Azzi finally turned and arched a brow. Paige caught the look and her grin turned wickedly slow.

“…and I love it.”

Azzi’s face burned even as she scowled. She felt it all the way to her ears. 

God, she hated her. 

God, she loved her. 

“Get up, Bueckers.”

The bathroom was hilariously small. Barely big enough for them to stand shoulder-to-shoulder at the tiny sink. The mirror was cracked in one corner and the light flickered like a bad horror movie.

Paige squeezed in behind Azzi, all warm limbs and shameless closeness, and Azzi elbowed her hard enough to get a grunt. 

Their shoulders bumped every time they moved. Paige squeezed the toothpaste from the middle like an absolute heathen. 

Azzi snatched it out of her hand, fingers deftly forcing the paste back to the bottom with slow, punishing precision.

“Seriously?” Paige complained, mouth already full of foam.

Azzi spat delicately into the sink and wiped her mouth. “Some of us have standards.”

Paige blew a bubble of minty foam at her.

Azzi didn’t even react. She just turned slowly, locked eyes with her in the mirror, and let the silence hang until Paige cracked—literally bent over the sink, howling with laughter.

Paige spat into the sink so loudly it splashed the faucet. Azzi let out a long-suffering sigh, grabbing a wad of toilet paper to wipe it clean.

“Can’t take you anywhere,” she muttered, but her mouth twitched against her will.

Paige leaned her hip against the counter, eyes soft as she watched Azzi rinse again. The laughter faded but left something brighter in its wake.

“You love me though,” Paige whispered, low and certain.

Azzi tried to ignore the way her chest squeezed tight around her heart. She snatched Paige’s toothbrush from the cup and held it out with a deadpan expression. “Unfortunately.”

Paige’s grin bloomed slow and huge, cheeks round with it. Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t kill her own smile in time.

They bumped hips on purpose now, jostling for space to rinse. 

Azzi elbowed her lightly. 

Paige flicked water at her face. 

Azzi glared, then reached up and smeared the tip of Paige’s nose with wet fingers. 

Paige gasped like she’d been shot.

“Betrayed,” Paige croaked.

Azzi snorted, covering her mouth so Paige wouldn’t see the grin. She turned to the mirror, pretending to fix her hair.

But Paige just watched her. Watched her wipe her mouth carefully with the hand towel, watched the line of her jaw soften when she thought Paige wasn’t looking.

It was stupid.

It was mundane.

But Paige’s heart felt too big for her ribs. Because even here, in the world’s ugliest motel bathroom, Azzi was careful. Deliberate. Beautiful. And she was here. With her.

Azzi turned and caught her staring, brows drawing together. “What.”

Paige shook her head, that slow, reverent smile tugging at her lips. “Nothing. Just… you.”

Azzi blinked once. Her face went hot. She turned fast and threw the towel at Paige’s face harder than necessary. 

Paige yelped, muffled by terrycloth, laughing as she peeled it away. 

Azzi turned back to the mirror to hide her stupid, too-big grin.

When they finally shuffled back into the room, the mood had softened. 

The air felt easier. 

Paige peeled her shirt off in one lazy motion and tossed it haphazardly onto her bag. 

Azzi watched her, exasperated but unable to look away from the line of Paige’s back, the way the muscles moved under her pale skin.

Azzi took her own shirt off neatly, folding it once before setting it on the wobbly chair. Paige snorted from the bed.

“You’re so fucking neat.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “Maybe you should try it.”

But Paige wasn’t listening. She was watching her. Soaking in every line and curve like she was scared she’d forget. Azzi felt the heat rise to her ears and refused to comment.

She crawled carefully onto the bed, feeling it shift beneath them. 

Paige didn’t wait. She reached out and grabbed Azzi’s waist, pulling her in until they were pressed together chest to chest.

Azzi let out a startled laugh that turned into a sigh, letting her cheek fall against Paige’s collarbone. 

Paige’s arms tightened instantly, locking her there, refusing to let go.

They didn’t talk at first. The room was quiet except for the dying hum of the AC. 

Azzi traced slow, meaningless patterns on Paige’s ribs, feeling the soft shiver they caused.

“Tickles,” Paige whispered, breath uneven.

Azzi didn’t stop.

Paige’s voice went small. “Don’t wanna let go.”

Azzi swallowed, her heart cracking open all over again. “You don’t have to.”

Paige shifted, nose in Azzi’s hair, breathing her in like she was oxygen. “Promise?”

Azzi closed her eyes and squeezed her tighter. “Always.”

She felt Paige’s breathing slow, every careful exhale letting go of the fear inch by inch. Azzi gentled her fingers, tracing softer and slower until Paige’s words turned to sleepy, unintelligible mumbles.

Azzi smiled against her skin.

“I know,” she whispered back.

She felt Paige smile too, loose and tired.

They fell asleep tangled up, legs woven under the thin, scratchy blanket. The world outside shrank to nothing but this tiny, ugly motel room.

And they didn’t care.

Because tonight, messy and imperfect and full of too many feelings, was theirs.

And that was enough. For Now. 

–

They were on the highway before dawn, the world outside the windshield lost in that heavy blue-black of almost-morning. The car's headlights carved twin tunnels through the darkness, throwing the broken white lines into fleeting relief before they vanished under the hood.

Paige’s fingers drummed on the steering wheel, tapping an irregular rhythm to a song that was playing too quietly to really hear. 

She knew the words anyway—could probably scream them in her sleep—but her mouth stayed shut. 

The quiet between them wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was thick. Heavy with everything she couldn’t say yet.

Azzi sat in the passenger seat like a bundle of oversized hoodie and tangled legs, hair twisted up in a bun that had lost half its integrity hours ago. 

She rested her cheek against the cold glass of the window, watching the empty road slip past in blurred streaks. But she wasn’t really looking out there.

Every minute or so, she shifted. Her fingers tapped at her knee, fidgety. Her gaze slid sideways. 

Always back to Paige. Always.

Paige felt it, even when she didn't turn her head. That soft, worried weight of Azzi’s attention on her. She fixed her eyes on the road, on the battered white lines zipping by, anything to keep herself from cracking.

Because Azzi was here. Right now. In the car beside her.

But the countdown had already started.

UConn was waiting. The draft was waiting. 

The future they’d worked so hard for was waiting to split them apart like it was owed their separation.

Paige swallowed hard, her throat dry. She turned the volume up suddenly, fingers twisting the knob harder than necessary. A rap song filled the car, bass low and vibrating the old doors. 

She mumbled along at first, voice hoarse from sleep and too many swallowed words.

Azzi watched her for a long moment, face turned but eyes cutting sideways. Her lips pressed tight at first—serious, pensive—but finally they twitched. The corner of her mouth threatened to curl.

Paige, oblivious to anything but needing to not think, started mouthing the ad-libs with gusto. Then louder. Almost yelling. Her voice cracked embarrassingly, but she didn’t stop.

Azzi let out a breath that was half a laugh.

Paige caught it. Glanced over. That tiny, huffed laugh cracked something open in her. Her heart thumped hard. 

God, look at her.

“Don’t act like you don’t love my playlists,” Paige rasped, trying to make it sound teasing instead of the plea it was. 

Please laugh. Please look at me like that.

Azzi huffed a real laugh then, shaking her head. “I’d love them more if you didn’t scream them like you’re headlining Madison Square Garden.”

Paige put a hand to her chest in mock offense. “Art requires passion.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the exasperation was all affection. “That’s what you’re calling it?”

Paige let out a deep laugh, unable to help herself. It was real laughter, a sound that felt too big in the small car.

Azzi shifted to face her better, seatbelt digging awkwardly across her chest. “Paige Bueckers. Musical prodigy. WNBA rookie of the year. Absolute menace to eardrums everywhere.”

They laughed like kids again, wrapped up in the kind of inside joke only they would ever understand.

But the next moment, it was quiet again.

The words pushing at the back of Paige’s teeth felt like broken glass. 

I don’t want you to go.

She clenched her jaw. 

Gripped the steering wheel tighter. 

Didn’t say it.

Azzi felt it. Felt the air shift, the jokes dying on Paige’s tongue. 

She turned her face back to the window, temple pressed to the glass, breath fogging a crescent of white. 

But she didn’t really look outside. Her fingers worried the hem of her hoodie sleeve, picking at the loose threads.

Azzi remembered when it was her, back then. When Paige was leaving for UConn and she was still in high school, feeling too small, too young, too replaceable. 

What if she finds someone better? Someone older? Someone there.

She’d never really told Paige how much that fear ate at her.

And now it was Paige’s turn. Azzi could see it in the way Paige’s shoulders hunched even when she tried to look casual. In the lines bracketing her mouth.

Azzi wanted to grab her face and force her to talk. 

To trust. 

But she didn’t. 

She couldn’t do that to Paige right now. She knew better.

Paige’s knuckles went white on the wheel.

Azzi let it be silent for a few more miles.

Finally, she swallowed hard and asked, voice careful like testing the ice on a frozen pond, “How long to the next stop?”

Paige cleared her throat. “Hour. Maybe.”

Azzi hummed low. Watching her. Searching.

Paige felt that gaze on her like a brand. She forced herself to glance over. Their eyes locked. Just for a breath. Two. Paige’s jaw worked, her teeth pressing together.

Azzi didn’t press. Didn’t demand. She just reached over and laid her hand gently on Paige’s knee. 

Warm. Steady. Here.

Paige’s breath shuddered out, uneven. Her fingers loosened on the wheel. She blinked hard, swallowing again.

They stopped at a gas station when the sun was fully up, the horizon shifting from bruised purple to pale smoky gray. Paige stomped around the lot like a petulant kid, glaring at the pump. 

Azzi let her have the space but didn’t go far.

Inside, Paige grabbed bad coffee and peanut butter crackers like it was a lifeline. 

Azzi picked sour candy without asking. 

Paige tried to glare, but her eyes softened, and she just paid for it anyway with a resigned sigh.

Back on the road, Azzi eventually fell asleep, bundled up in her hoodie like armor, face turned toward the window. Her breath fogged the glass with every slow exhale, lashes resting on her cheeks. 

Paige glanced over once. Twice. A hundred times.

And her chest hurt so fucking bad she could barely breathe.

How many more mornings like this?

How many more miles until she’s gone?

How do I let her go and still breathe?

Paige flexed her fingers on the wheel and focused on the road. On the gray ribbon that led them forward, no matter what waited at the end.

Because for now—just for now—Azzi was here.

And she’d keep driving as long as she could to make it last.

–

When Azzi stirred awake as the sky darkened to that early bruised purple, Paige’s jaw was a line of iron. She didn’t say anything. Just kept her eyes nailed forward, her grip on the wheel so tight her knuckles were pale.

Azzi watched her for a few seconds in the dimming light, wanting to say something—to break it, to soothe it—but the words felt wrong. Forced. She settled for the quiet.

They drove that way for miles, the silence not comfortable anymore but thick and suffocating.

Finally, Paige took the exit without a word, the car rumbling over the uneven off-ramp.

The diner sign flickered red and gold against the indigo sky, buzzing like an insect. 

Paige parked and sat there, staring at the wheel, the engine clicking as it cooled.

Azzi stretched in the seat, her back popping, and turned to study her. 

Paige wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“C’mon,” Azzi said, voice low, gentle even though she wanted to shake her.

Paige exhaled sharply. She didn’t look at Azzi, but she nodded once and shoved the door open.

Inside, the diner smelled like fryer grease and burnt coffee. Vinyl booths squeaked under them as they sat. The waitress didn’t bother with menus, just arched an eyebrow with a pen at the ready.

“Burger, fries,” Paige muttered, voice clipped.

Azzi watched her profile, saw the muscle in her cheek jump. She swallowed and turned to the waitress. “Grilled cheese and side salad, please.”

The waitress scribbled and walked away.

Silence slammed into the space between them like a wall.

Paige’s knee bounced restlessly under the table. Azzi set her arms on the table, folding them, leaning forward until she caught Paige’s eyes.

“P.”

Paige didn’t look up, jaw tight.

Azzi kept her voice soft but firm. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”

Paige’s fingers froze where they were tearing at the edge of a paper napkin. She swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing.

“I don’t know,” she ground out, voice raw.

Azzi didn’t move. She didn’t let her gaze waver. “Okay,” she said softly.

Paige’s eyes finally flicked up, confusion flashing through them, surprise that Azzi hadn’t pushed harder.

Azzi tilted her head, voice steady even though her chest felt tight. “Okay. You don’t know. That’s fine.”

But Paige’s voice cracked. “I just…” She let out a sharp exhale, eyes squeezing shut. “I don’t wanna say something I can’t take back.”

Azzi’s chest ached. She waited. She always waited.

Paige’s fingers dug into the tabletop. She sucked in a shaky breath and the words fell out like a wound splitting open.

“I don’t want you to go back to Storrs. And I really don’t want you declaring next year and ending up God knows where for four years.”

Azzi blinked. The words hit her like a punch.

She felt it land, felt it settle deep and heavy in her ribs.

Paige’s voice cracked again, anger and grief blurring together.

“I don’t want the schedule dictating when I see you. I don’t want to watch your games on a fucking laptop in some random hotel room while you’re in Seattle or New York or—”

Azzi’s brows drew together, hurt slicing through her.

“Paige.”

Paige’s eyes finally met hers and they were glassy, furious with unshed tears.

“I want you in Dallas.”

Silence fell so hard it rang in her ears.

Azzi swallowed hard.

“P,” she whispered, her voice fraying. “That’s not how this works.”

Paige’s face twisted. Her mouth pulled ugly around the grief.

“Why not? I’ll request a trade. I’ll go wherever you go.”

Azzi’s heart lurched so violently it hurt. Her stomach turned.

“No.”

The single word was quiet. Firm.

Paige blinked at her. Shock and betrayal flashing hot. “No?”

Azzi felt something shatter quietly inside her. She forced the words out. “No. Don’t say that.”

Paige’s face flushed dark red. Anger bled through the fear.

“Why the hell not? Why shouldn’t I?”

Azzi’s hands curled into fists in her lap. She forced them open. Took a steadying breath even as her chest burned. “Because that’s not who we are.”

Paige let out a short, humorless bark of laughter that sounded like it hurt.

“Who says?”

Azzi’s eyes flashed. She leaned forward, voice low but intense.

“Paige. We’re basketball players. We’re competitors. We don’t run from what’s best for our careers. You can’t sabotage your team. I can’t either.”

Paige’s eyes glistened wet, fury and heartbreak all tangled.

“This is the most important thing in my fucking life, Az.”

Azzi’s voice broke then, trembling despite her best effort. “I know. It is for me too.”

Paige’s voice was lower now, shaking like it was coming apart. “I don’t care about my team if I can’t be with you.”

Azzi’s jaw worked. Her fingers tapped once, twice on the table before she forced them still.

She took a slow, measured breath that trembled at the end.

“Don’t be selfish, P.”

It was like a slap. Paige’s head jerked up.

Her eyes narrowed. Wet. Furious.

“Fuck you.”

Azzi didn’t flinch. Even as her own throat burned. Even as her eyes stung.

She held her gaze. Voice husky.

“Say it. If you need to.”

Paige’s chest heaved. Her jaw worked like she was chewing glass.

But she didn’t speak.

Silence weighed on them like stone, pressing their ribs until it hurt to breathe.

Azzi let out a ragged exhale. She softened her voice even though it trembled.

“Look at me.”

Paige didn’t move.

Azzi leaned in, voice breaking.

“Please.”

Paige’s head turned, slowly. Resentful. Wet eyes glinting in the neon diner light.

Azzi reached out, palm open on the table. Waiting.

“P.”

Paige’s fingers trembled as they slid into hers.

Azzi wrapped around them like armor. She squeezed tight.

Her voice cracked. “We can make it work. You know we can. We’ve done it before.”

Paige’s lip trembled. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to be away.”

Azzi felt the tears spill over, blinking them away furiously.

She squeezed Paige’s hand tighter. “I don’t either. God, I hate it. But we can’t make decisions like that. Not for each other.”

Paige’s voice was a whisper now. Broken.

“Why not?”

Azzi’s heart splintered in her chest. “Because you’ll hate yourself for it. And I will too.”

Their eyes locked. Wet. Angry. Loving.

Raw.

Paige’s voice cracked. “Just… don’t want to lose you.”

Azzi’s thumb brushed her knuckles.

“You won’t. Even if I’m on the other side of the country. I’m still yours. Always.”

Paige swallowed hard, eyes falling.

Azzi’s voice was a whisper, choked.

“But you have to let me do this. Let me try. Write my own story. Please.”

Paige let out a long, shuddering exhale.

“I’m trying.”

Azzi’s chest heaved. She nodded once, biting back a sob.

“I know.”

They didn’t speak after that. They finished their food in quiet, small bites. Paige’s shoulders slumped, every forkful weighed down. Azzi’s eyes shone but she blinked fast, refusing to let them fall again.

When they paid, Paige didn’t even look at the cashier.

As they walked out, Azzi set a warm, tentative hand on the small of her back.

Paige didn’t shrug it off.

She just kept walking.

–

Outside, the sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon, leaving only the buzzing glow of the neon sign to paint everything in harsh strokes of yellow and red. 

Paige unlocked the car with a hard snap of the key fob. She stood there a second, fingers tight around the door handle, shoulders rigid enough to tremble. 

It was like she was holding herself back with the force of it, like if she relaxed for even one moment she’d say something more she couldn’t take back.

Azzi watched her. She didn’t move. Didn’t speak. But her stomach twisted painfully. She’d never seen Paige like this. Not with her. 

Paige had always been a thousand things—cocky, stubborn, annoyingly charming—but with Azzi she’d always been soft. Gentle in ways she wasn’t with anyone else.

Now? She was hard lines and clenched teeth.

Azzi could feel her own chest tighten.

This wasn’t just another disagreement. This was the first real fight they’d had in years. 

Not bickering over toppings on pizza or who got the last bottle of body wash. 

Not even the petty jealousy that flared sometimes in college when they’d been too young to know how to handle everything they felt.

This was real.

Raw.

About the future. About what they’d built together. About the fear of losing it.

Azzi swallowed hard and forced her legs to move. She stepped closer until she was in Paige’s space, crowding her deliberately. 

She wanted Paige to look at her, really look at her, but Paige kept her gaze stubbornly locked on the cracked pavement.

Azzi let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She lifted a hand, hesitated just a fraction of a second, then cupped Paige’s jaw in both palms. 

Her thumbs brushed the damp tracks on Paige’s cheeks. Paige jerked, just a tiny flinch she tried to hide, and Azzi’s heart cracked clean down the middle at the feel of it.

“Look at me,” Azzi whispered, voice ragged.

Paige’s eyelids squeezed tighter, as if she was trying to keep everything in. 

Azzi could see it—the war in her own head. 

The part that wanted to stay angry, to push Azzi away because that would be easier than admitting how terrified she was.

Azzi’s thumbs trembled where they rested.

“Paige,” she said again, voice cracking, “please.”

Finally Paige’s eyes opened. Bloodshot. Shiny with tears. And so fucking angry.

Azzi saw all of it.

And she loved her so much she could barely stand it.

“I love you,” she said. Not soft. Not sweet. Almost harsh, like she had to shove it out before it got caught in her throat.

Paige’s breath stuttered. She blinked hard. Then her own hands came up, wrapping around Azzi’s wrists with a grip that was just short of bruising.

“Love you too,” she rasped, voice wrecked.

Azzi leaned in and caught Paige’s trembling lips with her own, tasting the salt of tears—hers, Paige’s—there was no difference anymore.

It wasn’t fixed.

But it was something.

They didn’t say another word as they got in the car. Paige threw it into gear so hard Azzi flinched at the sound. But then Paige’s hand fell to the console between them, fingers twitching, uncertain.

Azzi didn’t hesitate. She laid her hand over Paige’s, lacing their fingers tight enough to hurt. Paige’s grip tightened right back.

They held on the entire drive in silence.

But it wasn’t comfortable.

It was electric. Charged.

Azzi could feel it pulsing between them—the fear, the anger, the aching love that neither of them knew how to handle right now.

When they pulled into the cheap motel lot, Paige killed the engine so fast the dash lights flickered out abruptly. 

She just sat there a moment, breathing heavily like she’d been holding her breath the whole time.

Azzi watched her in the dim glow of the parking lot lights. Paige’s hair was a mess, falling in her face. She was biting the inside of her cheek hard enough to make her jaw twitch.

Azzi swallowed, hard.

She didn’t want to fight anymore.

She wanted to fix it.

But Paige didn’t look at her.

Inside the motel, Paige barely spoke to the clerk. Her signature was an angry scrawl that almost tore the paper. 

Azzi mumbled a quiet “thanks” to the man even though he didn’t hear her.

They walked down the narrow hallway shoulder to shoulder but miles apart.

Inside the room, Paige dropped her bag like it had personally offended her and sat on the edge of the bed. Heels of her palms dug into her knees. Head hanging.

Azzi stood by the door for too long.

Her hand rested on the knob, thumb brushing the old brass absentmindedly. She felt it in her bones—that pull to run. To get some space. To breathe air that wasn’t thick with all this.

But she wouldn’t.

She couldn’t.

Because Paige needed her.

Even if Paige didn’t know how to say it.

She let out a breath that trembled hard enough to make her teeth chatter once.

Then she turned.

Crossed the stained carpet slowly, deliberately, and sat down on the bed beside her.

She didn’t touch her.

Didn’t even look at her at first.

She just…was there.

Their knees brushed.

Azzi let that small contact speak for her.

Because if she opened her mouth she was scared she’d say something she couldn’t take back either.

Tell Paige she was being selfish.

Tell her she was being unfair.

Tell her she was being hers, goddammit, and she didn’t get to push Azzi out when things got hard.

Azzi’s chest ached so bad she thought she might crack open.

But she stayed quiet.

Because Paige’s shoulders were trembling.

Her head was bowed, hair falling like a curtain. Azzi could see the way Paige’s breath kept hitching. The way her fingers dug into her own knees like she was trying to hold herself together with sheer force.

Azzi felt tears sting her own eyes.

God, she loved her.

Loved her so much it felt like a sickness.

Loved her so much she’d let Paige be angry. Let her be scared. Let her break.

Because that was love too.

Finally, Paige’s hand lifted, slow and uncertain. She turned her palm up on her knee.

An invitation.

A white flag.

Azzi’s breath stuttered.

She blinked fast, forcing the tears back.

Then she reached out and laid her hand in Paige’s. Their fingers laced tight. Paige’s grip was bruising. Azzi let her.

Paige’s breath hitched once, a small sob she swallowed down.

Azzi squeezed back just as hard.

She could feel Paige’s thumb brushing over her knuckles in jerky, unsteady circles.

Don’t leave me.

Azzi heard it even though Paige didn’t say it.

And she answered in the only way she could.

By holding on. By being there.

–

Azzi’s phone buzzed in her pocket, slicing through the silence like a blade. 

She jumped at the vibration, and the sudden movement startled Paige too. Her head snapped up, eyes wide and red, like she’d been holding back tears that had nowhere to go. 

Azzi’s chest ached at the sight.

God. This wasn’t them.

She exhaled shakily and pulled the phone out, her fingers clumsy. 

The screen lit up with the word MOM, bright and insistent. 

She hesitated, thumb hovering, because she didn’t want to answer it. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to have to say the words that were building in her throat like poison.

Paige was watching her, silent, eyes dark and glossy. She looked broken, and it was Azzi’s fault. That hurt more than anything.

“You can answer,” Paige rasped, voice scraping the raw edges of the moment.

Azzi shook her head immediately, too fast. “It’s fine.” But her voice cracked on the lie.

Paige swallowed hard, the muscle in her jaw ticking. “Go. Talk to her.”

For a second Azzi wanted to argue. She wanted to say she wasn’t leaving, that she wasn’t about to abandon Paige when she was falling apart. But Paige wouldn’t even look at her now. 

She’d shut down, locked the door from the inside.

Azzi blinked fast, trying to clear the wetness in her eyes. She clenched her jaw and forced her mouth into something like control. She reached over and squeezed Paige’s hand once, firm and desperate, before she let go. 

The space left behind on her palm felt cold immediately.

She stood, the old carpet muffling her step, but it felt like walking across broken glass. At the door, she hesitated with her hand on the knob.

Paige didn’t look at her.

Azzi’s throat burned as she forced out a whisper. “Be right back.”

She didn’t wait for a response. She didn’t expect one.

The door clicked shut behind her, sealing her out into the cold night.

Outside, the parking lot was bathed in sickly yellow light. Moths battered themselves stupid against the buzzing bulb over her head. 

Azzi let the chill hit her full on, dragging in ragged breaths that fogged in front of her face. She felt like she was drowning in the silence.

She stared at the phone screen again before pressing accept, voice cracking as she tried to sound normal. “Hey, Mom.”

Katie didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Hi baby. You okay?”

Azzi let out a humorless laugh that shook. “Yeah. Long day.”

Katie hummed, unimpressed. “Uh huh. You sound like you’ve been crying.”

Azzi’s breath hitched. She looked at the ground, the cracked pavement, anything but the door she’d just come through. “Mom…”

Katie’s voice softened instantly. “Azzi.”

It broke her.

Azzi closed her eyes, pressing the heel of her hand hard against them. She felt too old for this, too raw. “We...we had an argument.”

“About what?” Katie asked gently.

Azzi sniffed, trying to hold it together. “About Storrs. The draft.” Her voice shook. “She wants me in Dallas, Mom. She asked if there was any way. She even...she offered to request a trade.”

She let out a sharp, wet laugh that cracked open like a wound. “Like it’s that easy. Like we get to choose.”

Katie sighed softly, the sound grounding Azzi in a way nothing else could. “Oh baby. That’s a lot.”

Azzi’s chest tightened so hard it hurt to breathe. “She’s scared. I get it. I am too. But she said...she doesn’t want to be apart at all.”

“Do you blame her?” Katie asked.

Azzi’s eyes filled. “No,” she whispered. “God, no. I hate it too. I just...I don’t want to choose a city over her. I don’t want her to choose me over basketball. It’s always been both for us.”

Katie didn’t interrupt. She let the words sit between them like something holy.

“That’s because you’re good to each other,” Katie finally said. “You love each other enough not to let the other throw everything away. Even if it feels easier.”

Azzi pressed her free hand to her mouth to muffle the sound that tore out of her. “Yeah.”

“Sounds like she’s hurting. And you’re hurting watching her hurt,” Katie added softly.

Azzi’s voice was tiny. “Yeah.”

“That’s love, sweetheart. Messy as hell. Doesn’t make it wrong. Means you care enough to fight for it.”

Azzi’s tears finally spilled over. She let them fall. She didn’t care anymore. “God, Mom.”

Katie didn’t rush. She let Azzi breathe.

Then, quieter: “Did you tell her you love her?”

Azzi choked out, “Yeah.”

“That’s all she needs tonight. Even if she doesn’t know it yet.”

Azzi squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t want her to hate me for saying no.”

Katie’s voice was calm, steady, unbreakable. “She won’t. She might be mad. She might be scared. But she’ll never hate you. That girl loves you too much. She always has.”

Azzi let out a wet laugh. “Yeah.”

“Go back in,” Katie finished gently. “Sit with her. Even if you don’t talk.”

Azzi swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

The call ended with a quiet beep that sounded too loud in the emptiness.

Azzi didn’t move for a while. She just stood there under the buzzing light, letting the cold seep in and numb her. She felt her heart pounding in her chest like it was trying to break out.

She hated this. Hated fighting with Paige. Hated knowing that under all that anger, all that silence, was fear.

Because Paige was terrified of losing her. And Azzi...Azzi was just as scared of letting her go.

She scrubbed at her face roughly. 

She was mad, too. Mad that Paige was so stubborn, so ready to burn it all down for them. 

Mad that she couldn’t just say yes back. 

Yes, request a trade so we can be together. 

Yes, I will do literally anything to be with you.  

But she wouldn’t.

She wouldn’t be the reason Paige sacrificed the career she’d worked her whole life for.

Even if it meant she’d have to be the villain tonight.

Finally, she took a deep breath that rattled in her lungs and turned for the door.

She opened it carefully, quietly, like she was afraid the sound alone would shatter them both.

Inside, the room was dim, the old lamp casting a tired glow over everything. 

Paige was already in bed, curled tight on her side facing the wall. She looked small. Fragile.

Azzi’s gaze caught on the folded clothes Paige had left out for her. Even now. Even after all of it. Paige was still caring for her.

That did her in.

Azzi swallowed hard and shut the door. She didn’t say anything as she walked to the bathroom.

She heard Paige shift under the blankets, pretending to be asleep. Heard the hitch in her breathing.

Azzi changed into the shirt Paige had left for her, pressing her nose into the collar just for a second.

It smelled like them.

She let out a shaky breath at her reflection, at the red-rimmed eyes that looked back at her.

Older. Tired.

Determined.

–

Paige lay on her side, facing the cheap wallpaper that was peeling at the seams, her arm shoved under the pillow in a way that felt wrong, uncomfortable, but she didn’t fix it. 

She didn’t move. She felt frozen.

Her eyes were open but blurred with hot, angry tears that refused to fall. She blinked hard, willing them back. She didn’t want to cry. Not now. Not like this.

Because she was angry.

At Azzi. At herself. At all of it.

God, she’d told her fuck you.

The words replayed on a loop in her head, harsh and ugly and not at all what she’d meant. 

She wasn’t that girl with Azzi. She wasn’t cruel. She never wanted to be. 

Azzi was her baby, her princess, her everything. Saying that was like spitting in the face of everything they’d built.

She squeezed her eyes shut hard enough to see stars.

She felt so betrayed and she hated herself for it. Because she knew Azzi wasn’t betraying her. 

That wasn’t fair. But she couldn’t stop the way it felt—like Azzi was choosing basketball over her. 

Choosing a city. A jersey. A dream that didn’t have Paige in it.

It was selfish. It was stupid. She knew it.

But it hurt anyway.

She felt her breath hitch and tried to swallow it down.

Azzi had told her no.

No.

Not “we’ll see,” not “I’ll try.” Just—no.

Like she wasn’t even going to consider it.

And Paige understood why.

She really did.

Azzi was right. They weren’t those girls. They wouldn’t sabotage their own careers, their teams. They were basketball players first. 

That’s what they’d promised each other. Basketball first. Because us is forever.

But forever felt so fucking far away tonight.

She tried to steady her breathing but it kept catching in her throat, coming out in shaky, uneven drags of air. 

She wanted to scream. Punch the wall. Beg Azzi to just say yes.

To say she’d force her way to Dallas.

To say she’d make it work.

Paige’s fingers fisted in the blanket so hard her knuckles ached.

But even as she thought it, she felt the sickness curl in her belly. Because she didn’t want Azzi to give it up for her. 

She didn’t want to be the reason Azzi woke up one day resenting her.

She didn’t want to see that look in her eyes.

God, she hated this.

She felt so small, lying there.

So fucking lost.

She heard Azzi in the bathroom, the sink running, the quiet, muffled movements of her getting ready for bed like they hadn’t just ripped each other apart an hour ago.

She tried to breathe.

It came out wet.

Her eyes burned.

She scrubbed her face on the pillow, humiliated by her own weakness.

She was supposed to be strong. The unshakable one. The leader. The calm in the storm. That’s who she was for everyone. Her team. Her family. Azzi.

But not tonight.

Tonight she was a mess.

And she hated that Azzi had seen it.

Worse—she hated that she’d caused it.

Because under all the anger, under the fear and the betrayal and the stubbornness, was the truth:

She was terrified of losing her.

Not just a little. Terrified.

She’d never said that out loud. Not even to Azzi.

But it pressed on her chest like a weight, making it hard to draw breath.

She heard the bathroom door open softly. Heard Azzi’s bare feet on the thin, squeaky carpet. 

She squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to make it look like she was asleep.

Coward.

She felt the mattress dip behind her. The heat of Azzi’s body, close but not touching.

Paige wanted to roll over.

She wanted to throw herself at her. Beg her. Apologize until her voice went hoarse.

But she couldn’t make her arms move.

Because part of her was still angry.

Part of her was still hurt.

Part of her felt like if she moved, she’d shatter completely.

She heard Azzi breathe behind her. Careful. Hesitant. Like she didn’t want to break the silence if it was the only thing holding them together.

Paige let out a breath that shuddered, betraying her.

Azzi heard it. She knew she did.

Paige clenched her jaw, tried to bury her face deeper in the pillow.

Say something.

God, please say something.

But she didn’t want to start another fight.

She didn’t want to say anything that would make Azzi flinch the way she had in the diner.

So when she finally spoke, her voice cracked in half, small and raw and nothing like the confident, brash Paige Bueckers the world knew.

“I can’t sleep unless we’re touching.”

Her shame burned hot and awful in her chest.

She hated admitting that.

Hated needing her like that.

But she couldn’t help it.

Azzi let out a tiny breath behind her.

It sounded like relief.

And then, quietly, a soft, wet laugh. “Yeah. I know.”

Paige’s eyes squeezed shut again as she felt Azzi shift behind her. 

Careful. Deliberate. Scooting closer until her knees brushed the back of Paige’s.

Azzi’s arm slid around her waist.

Her face pressed gently into the back of Paige’s neck.

Paige sucked in a shaky breath, letting it out slow.

Her fingers twitched against the sheet, finally moving to cover Azzi’s where it rested on her belly.

She clutched it.

Desperate.

Her voice broke. “I’m sorry.”

Azzi’s breath stuttered against her skin.

“I know,” she whispered, pressing the softest kiss to Paige’s shoulder.

There was a pause.

Paige felt her chest crack open when she heard Azzi’s voice, wrecked but certain.

“I’m sorry too.”

They lay like that for a long time, tangled under scratchy motel blankets. Holding on.

Not because it fixed anything.

But because it was all they could do tonight.

[bellloving]

harringrove baby au <3 after (somehow) surviving the events of season 3 and scraping through his senior year, billy moves out of neil's house into a little apartment and gets a job working as a mechanic, pulling long hours trying to build up his California fund. he's barely got the energy to pull off his shoes before passing out on the couch most nights, so of course life throws another curveball at him in the form of an old fling dropping off a baby girl with his eyes. she's the sweetest thing he's ever seen and he's in love immediately but he's barely keeping his head above water as it is. billy needs help and he needs it fast. when it comes to the decision of who to ask, it's a no-brainer. billy knows that steve has experience with kids, seeing him drive the party to and from the arcade and hearing tommy jeer about how nancy's got him so whipped she has him babysitting holly. but most importantly, steve already knows. billy won't have to explain the scarring on his chest, or his habit of keeping the lights on throughout the night, or the night terrors that may have slowed down but never stopped. steve plays hard to get, but even he can admit that the offer is pretty good, free room and board with a nice weekly pay. with robin about to head out to college in Indianapolis, the thought of staying in that big empty house without her climbing in the window every night makes steve's skin crawl (plus he'll need a new gig anyway since there's no way he's staying at family video without her). his life is already ridiculous enough, why not add being his high school rival's live in nanny into the mix? but both of them quickly come to regret the arrangement. billy coming home to steve with an apron on and his baby on his hip, dinner cooking on the stove and the house spotless, fussing over billy and helping him take his boots off, running him a bath. steve seeing billy come home in his mechanic overalls, rough hands soft on his hips moving him out of the way to reach the sink, blond curls escaping from his ponytail to frame his face, asking steve how his day was, what his girl did today, if he needs any money when he goes to the store tomorrow. living in such close quarters, learning the smell of each other's body wash, fleeting touches as they bump into each other around the house, horrible horrible torture <3

[vigilxntesht]

𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 - kang sae-byeok x reader

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 - kang sae-byeok x f!reader

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 - 1.2k

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - i love my cats

𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨

it had been a quiet, ordinary night—until your cat juno disappeared. then, facing an intriguing stranger holding him in the dim streetlight, you felt something shift.

you were having a perfectly normal evening.

curled up in bed with a book, the soft glow of your bedside lamp casting warm light over the pages. you barely noticed the time passing. the city outside hummed with distant traffic, and a cool breeze filtered through your slightly open window. it was the kind of night that made you feel safe, comfortable—even a little drowsy.

juno, your cat, had been curled at your feet earlier, a contented little ball of fur. but now, as you reached down absentmindedly to scratch his ears, your hand met only an empty blanket.

you frowned.

"juno?"

no little responsive meow.

cold, hard silence.

a flicker of unease prickled at your spine. normally, he wasn’t the type to wander far, and he always responded when you called him. you sat up, glancing around the room. no sign of him.

you checked under the bed. the closet. even the bathroom. nothing.

a pit formed in your stomach as your eyes landed on the slightly ajar window.

no. he wouldn’t.

you scrambled over to it, heart beating out of your chest as you peered outside. your apartment wasn’t on the ground floor, but you were only one level up. the fire escape ran right below your window—an easy path for a curious cat.

"fuck."

your pulse quickened as you grabbed a hoodie and hastily tugged on your sneakers, hands shaking. this wasn’t just some pet casually strolling along the streets. juno had never been outside before. he wouldn’t know how to handle the cars, the people, the noise. the thought of him wandering into traffic or getting snatched by some stranger made your breath come up short.

you practically flew down the stairs and burst out onto the sidewalk, scanning the dimly lit street.

"juno!" you called, voice raw with desperation. "juno, come on, buddy!"

the night air was cool against your skin, but the panic rising in your chest made it hard to breathe. your mind spiraled with worst-case scenarios as you checked beneath parked cars, looked behind trash bins, glanced into the alleyways. every dark shadow felt like it could be hiding him, but no matter where you turned, you saw nothing.

the streetlights flickered faintly, casting long, eerie shapes across the pavement. your hands clenched at your sides, frustration and fear mixing into a nauseating knot in your stomach.

"juno!" you tried again, voice cracking weakly.

and then,

movement.

you turned sharply, heart leaping into your throat. in the narrow alleyway to your right, just past the neon glow of a flickering convenience store sign, a figure stood partially shrouded in shadow.

a girl.

tall, slim, her posture wary yet still. and in her arms, nestled against her chest, was juno.

relief flooded through you so quickly your knees almost buckled. but that relief was quickly followed by something else—hesitation.

who was the girl in front of you?

she had sharp features, dark eyes that studied you with a quiet intensity. her short black hair framed her face in soft, choppy waves, and she was wearing an oversized jacket that looked a little too thin for the weather. there was something about her—something guarded, distant.

she didn’t say anything at first, just watched you. and juno, the same cat who barely tolerated most of your closest friends, was curled against her like he belonged there.

"your cat?"

her voice was quiet, low, but clear.

you swallowed hard, suddenly hyperaware of how ridiculous you probably looked, out of breath and wide-eyed. "yeah. he, uh—he got out."

she tilted her head slightly, eyes flickering from you to juno, a soft smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "he came right up to me."

your brows furrowed. that was… odd. juno wasn’t friendly, not with strangers. the fact that he let this girl pick him up so easily was baffling.

"oh. well, uh…" you hesitated, shifting awkwardly on your feet. "thanks for, um, finding him."

she didn’t reply right away. instead, she just looked at you for a moment longer, then—finally—extended her arms, passing juno back to you.

you took him carefully, feeling his little body stretch lazily in your arms before he settled against you, completely unbothered by the whole ordeal.

"thanks," you said again, softer this time.

the girl shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. "it’s nothing."

a silence stretched between you, awkward and lingering. you weren’t sure if you should leave, or if she was expecting something else. your fingers tightened slightly around juno’s fur.

"uh." you cleared your throat. "do you… do you live around here?"

her eyes narrowed slightly, like she was assessing you. "yeah."

you nodded stiffly. right. why else would she be wandering along the streets here at this time? "cool."

she raised an eyebrow.

you internally cringed. cool? what kind of response was that?

desperate to break the tension, you blurted out, "you must be good with animals. juno doesn’t usually, uh, like people."

her lips twitched, like she was holding back a smirk. "haven’t noticed before."

the weight of the awkwardness pressed down on you like a ton of bricks. you should probably just say goodnight and go. that would be the normal thing to do. but for some reason, you hesitated.

"do you—" you started, then immediately regretted it. "do you wanna, like… come inside? just for a bit? it’s kinda cold, and i have tea. or, uh, other stuff. like, ramen or something. if you want."

she stared at you, and for a moment, you were convinced she was going to say no. she seemed like the kind of person who didn’t do random small talk, let alone follow up on impulsive invitations from strangers. but then—

"okay."

oh. that’s surprising.

you turned quickly, hoping she didn’t notice the way your ears were burning, and started walking back toward your apartment. juno let out a little huff of protest but stayed nestled in your arms.

as you reached your door, you stole a glance at the girl—at the way she moved, careful but effortless, as if always ready to leave at a moment’s notice. there was something about her—something quiet but fierce. something that made your stomach twist in a way you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to acknowledge.

"i totally forgot to ask, what’s your name?" you asked as you fumbled with your keys.

she hesitated for a second before responding. "sae-byeok."

sae-byeok. the name settled into your mind as you finally got the door open and stepped inside.

maybe this was just a strange, fleeting encounter. maybe she’d leave in a few minutes, and you’d never see her again.

or maybe—just maybe—this was the start of something you didn’t quite have words for yet.

and for now, that was enough.

[spacexgrl]

Bittersweet ! 🎀

you’re here pt 10 💋

series masterlist

~ in which Ellie breaks up with you and you go a little crazy ~

ex! ellie williams x fem! reader , abby anderson x fem! reader

college au!

warnings: SMUT bc i’m a whore, unrealistic sex (?) ,angst, break up, Ellie CRASHOUT ‼️ 💀,cheating,cursing, toxic behavior, smut in future chapters, sexual themes<3 feminine and girly reader ,not proof read!!

taglist: pls comment if you want to be added! <3 @elliessweetheart @vamp1reg1rrrl @autisticintr0vert @addthespaghetti @hemmo01 @elliecoochieeater @to-the-stray-dogs @undercuver @teenagemoonharmony @velvetcakegirlie @kl1q @cirrusdoll @icedsimpsayo @softrosekisses @therealhexstrap @gingerpines

Mornings were always slow and cozy with Abby, her big beefy arms holding you safe and sound as you floated through dreamland, without any fear and trouble in mind. God you wished you could stay in intertwined with her in your fluffy sheets forever..but abby needed to stay in her structured morning routine. "five more minutes please!” Abby giggled and kissed your cheek as you whined at her when you noticed the warmth of her body leaving yours, you were tossing and turning, whining about her leaving you alone in your sleepy state. “fuck you abs” you mumbled into your pillow, slowly opening your eyes scanning the room for abby just to find her on your bedroom floor doing..push ups? You couldn’t help but bite your lips at the sight of her muscles flexing with every move, making it look like the easiest exercise in the books, small droplets of sweat forming on her forehead as she finishes her set. “record me next time, you can rewatch every time you miss these” she winked and gave you that cocky smile you love so much as she flexed her ridiculous biceps, fuck you’re drooling, hypnotized by her greek god like physique. You quickly got up from your bed and dragged her into your bathroom, quickly undressing and getting into a steaming hot shower. "you getting in or what?” you asked as abby gawked at your naked figure, your wet skin glowing in the dim lights of your bathroom mirror, your hair framing your face as the water ran down every curve of your body. "fuck ,don’t have to tell me twice” abby threw her sweaty clothes on the floor and practically threw herself on you. Your arms sneaked around her shoulders as she grabbed on your ass, pulling you even closer, her body flush on yours as she devoured your mouth, tongues clashing, mixing with the hot water of your shower head. Small moans escaped your lips as she lifted you up with ease, your legs wrapped around her waist as she pushed you up against the wall, her hard abs brushing against your pussy with every move. "you’re so fucking gorgeous like this baby” abby moaned at the feeling of your pussy somehow wetting her stomach more than the water itself. "feels so good abs” you clawed your acrylics into her shoulders as she moved you up and down,she hissed at the sharp oh she’s feral, the friction felt so delicious on your clit setting you on fire, your moans grew louder and louder against abby’s lips when she picked up the pace, moving your body with pure strength and determination to make you cum. "cumming!” you screamed one last time before your orgasm erupted like a wildfire, eyes rolled back behind your skull as the wave of pleasure washed over your entire body, holding onto abby for dear life as she kissed and sucked on your neck. “such a good girl for me, baby” abby praised you as she let you down again, you gave her a kiss as a thank you before she started soaping you up and washing your hair gently, using all your favorite vanilla strawberry scented products, pampering you like the princess you are. After your shower you two got ready for your classes, you decided on a cherry red juicy couture tracksuit and no make up, keeping it simple for today. "Dang how many juicy tracksuits do you have, babe?“ Abby asked playfully, getting dressed in a slutty wife pleaser top and blue jeans, if it weren’t for a good degree you’d rather stay with her and let her fuck your brains out but you can’t keep doing that unfortunately.

Abby moved into the kitchen, she promised to make your favorite pancakes "they have to be high protein though" she said "as long as you don’t burn down my kitchen it’s fine!“ you both erupted in laughter, you ran away from her and she chased you with a kitchen cloth jokingly threatening to 'get your ass' eventually she cornered you by the kitchen isle "gotcha" she smirked and gave you a sweet kiss on your forehead. Your heart swelled as your eyes locked with her blue ones, she noticed a pinky hue creeping up on your cheeks, you’re so damn cute. "why are you getting shy on me now, princess?“ she asked softly, holding your face with one hand, thumb caressing your cheek so gently. your mind was racing, you’ve been thinking about telling her how you feel about her for some time but couldn’t really find the right words, which was very out of character for you..god abby makes you feel like you’ve fallen in love for the first time..

You swallowed thickly, your breath catching in your throat as Abby’s rough thumb brushed against your skin again, her touch so grounding and safe. “What is it, baby?” she asked gently, her voice dipped in honey mixed with a hint of genuine concern. You hesitated, heart pounding like it was trying to escape your chest. “I didn’t expect this. I didn’t think someone like you would ever be in my life like this, and yet… here you are. Making me pancakes, chasing me around with a dish towel, kissing my forehead like I matter.” Abby chuckled under her breath her eyes softening, tilting her head, but said nothing—letting you keep going, her fingers still brushing soft circles along your jaw. You drew in a shaky breath. “You make me feel seen. You make me feel safe. And somewhere between all the laughter and the little things you do just to make me smile, I…” Your voice wavered.

“I fell for you, Abby. You showed me that i’m worthy of being loved and I wouldn’t want to be loved by anyone but you..“

Abby blinked, stunned for a split second. Her hand stilled on your face processing your confession, then she smiled—slow and full of warmth, like sunrise after a long night. She leaned in, pressing her forehead against yours. You were losing yourself in her ocean blue depths one again..hopefully waiting for her next move..

"Good,” she whispered, her breath ghosting over your lips. “Because I’ve fallen for you since I laid my eyes on you..i’ve wanted you for so long.“ when she finally kissed you—slow, deep, reverent—you knew Abby was the only one you wanted.

Abby’s lips curled into a smirk that was somehow both playful and sincere as you broke the kiss "Be mine,doll“ her hands slid down your waist, pulling you into her chest “Let me call you my girlfriend.”You leaned into her touch, the warmth of her arms anchoring you, grounding you in the moment that suddenly felt like the beginning of everything.

“I’d love to be your girlfriend,” you whispered.

“fucking finally,” she said, grinning into your silky hair as she held you tight. “Now help me make those damn protein pancakes. My girl’s gotta eat.”

💫

The morning sunlight spilled into the kitchen as you two finished breakfast, legs tangled under the table, her hand never really letting go of yours. And when it was time to head out, she grabbed her car keys, tossing them in the air before flashing you a wink. The drive to campus was filled with easy music (a playlist Abby made specifically for you) her hand resting on your thigh, thumb tracing circles whenever the car paused at red lights. She’d glance at you so lovingly like she still couldn’t believe you were real. You caught yourself doing the same, but you couldn’t help yourself! she looked ridiculously hot while she worked that steering wheel..

Classes blurred by. Every now and then, you’d get a message from Abby:

miss u already

meet me in the bathroom? ;)

Counting down till tonight. Can’t wait to show you off as my gf, babe <3

oh shit, you thought to yourself as you dozed off in your class, not listening to your professor anymore. you completely forgot about jesse’s party tonight. A sudden wave of anxiety crashed through your system, you felt dizzy, your vision slowly blurring and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You quickly excused yourself and head into the nurses office, claiming that you just hadn’t eaten that much today. Everything will be okay…Ellie won’t be there right? Just the thought of anything Ellie related made your skin crawl..you cursed yourself out..she doesn’t even deserve the negative attention you give her. You decided to shrug it off and keep your day going…like this odd anxiety attack never happened.

After classes you find yourself in Abby‘s car again on your way back home. The ride was quiet—too quiet. Abby kept glancing over, sensing something was off. “You okay?“ she asked with that honey dipped voice you loved so much, her hand resting gently on your thigh. You forced a smile. “Yeah. Just… forgot about the party.” She didn’t say more, just gave your leg a reassuring squeeze. She knew you were worried about a possible confrontation with ellie but she decided not to dwell on it, fearing it would make the situation worse.

Back at your place, the tension slowly melted. Abby flopped onto your couch, kicking off her sneakers. “Can’t wait to show you off tonight,” she teased, flashing you a grin. “My girl’s gonna steal the spotlight.” You laughed, a little softer than usual. The thought of seeing Ellie again still twisted something in your chest—but Abby’s presence made it bearable. She helped you get ready, picking out your favorite low rise shorts pairing it with a cheetah print top , her touch grounding, her voice steady. "you look so fucking hot“ she drooled as you twirled around for her, your ass peaking out of the denim fabric ever so slightly sent her off the edge. You weren’t better than her though..she decided on a black tanktop, baggy jeans with her calvin klein boxers peaking out and a leather jacket. To say that you were staring was an understatement..

By the time you were locking the front door behind you, her fingers laced with yours,thankfully you didn’t feel nervous anymore.

💫

By the time you pulled up to the house, the bass from inside was already pulsing through the pavement. Laughter spilled out onto the porch, the golden glow of string lights flickering in the distance. Abby cut the engine and turned to you with a smirk. “Ready to make an entrance, babe?”You took a deep breath, nodded, and stepped out of the car—her hand already finding yours again, grounding you as the night began.

The door creaked open just as you were about to reach for the handle, and there stood Jesse, beer in hand and a vicious grin on his face. “Well damn,” he said, looking between you and Abby. “Didn’t know we were getting the power couple tonight.” You laughed, a little breathless, and Abby just smirked, sliding her arm around your waist like it belonged there. “Figured it was about time,” she said playfully.

Jesse raised his drink in a mock toast. “Congrats you two! Come on in—everyone’s already a couple drinks in and pretending they can dance.”

The music inside pulsed through your chest, warm lights spilling across faces you half-recognized. You stepped in with Abby beside you, her hand never leaving your back, and just like that—it felt real.

The room’s buzzing—bass rattling the floor, laughter echoing through the air. You and Abby are tucked off near the kitchen. She’s got her hand low on your back dangerously close to your ass, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, making you blush and bite your lips before you share a heated kiss. You were already two drinks and a few shots in (you couldn’t say no to jesse’s ‘killer’ drink combos) your body relaxed against abby’s, still heavily making out with her. "eww get a fucking room" jesse pointed at you jokingly making you break your kiss with laughter. It caught the attention of other guests around you, they were cheering you and abby on, loving that you’re finally official as a couple. “you better not forget about the games we have soon, anderson. Though i get if you forget about us with a girl like that” her basketball teammate, Violet alias “Vi” nudged her shoulder and shot you a wink. "no flirting with my girl alright?" abby answered, jokingly getting her in a light headlock you couldn’t help yourself but giggle at the sight.

Suddenly someone tapped your shoulder, you mindlessly turned to the person that tried speaking to you your eyes widening as you realized who stood in front of you..dina? “I know you don’t want to hear anything from me but please listen…i need to find jesse right now before Ellie gets here, please” she sounded out of breath and desperate. The mention of Ellie made your heart sink into your ass, your head was spinning as you tried to keep your composure. You scanned the room quickly but jesse was nowhere to be seen "Jesse must’ve gone to the bathroom..he will be back soon but you need to breathe..you don’t look well, dina” aside of everything that went down including dina, deep down you just felt bad for her, everyone could see that she lost herself for the sake of being with ellie…shit maybe that’s how people perceived you when you were with her…the thought alone made you nauseous. Abby noticed your voice dying down and immediately stopped joking around with her friends, checking to see if you were okay. "is she bothering you?" abby asked, eyeing dina with venom in her eyes. "no, babe! she’s just looking for jesse it seems important. Where did he go?” you assured her with a soft voice and a squeeze on her hands, her eyes softened and she looked everywhere in the crowd, scanning every face, still no jesse to be seen.

Before you were able to try and reassure dina that jesse will come back very soon the front door flew open, hitting the wall so hard it sounded like a warning shot..conversations stop, heads turn, the air shifts..all eyes are on her…Ellie fucking Williams — music still playing, you wished it would’ve stopped.

Ellie stepped inside, she’s drenched in sweat, her pupils huge, jaw clenched and twitching, nose clearly raw like she’s been snorting something too strong for someone so fucked up already. A half-empty bottle of jack is gripped in one hand and a half smoked joint in the other, gripped loosely between her bloody knuckles. Her tank top is stained with various liquids..seemingly alcohol, sweat, drool, blood? , half-hanging off her shoulder. Her dirty converse untied. There’s a fresh bruise on her jaw, and her lips are cracked—probably from a fall or a fight on the way here.

People stare, whispers echo across the room, some pull their phones out to record.

"where is he?!"

Her voice slices through the music, through the crowd, through your fucking skull. You’re scared, gripping onto abby’s arm for dear life. This can’t be fucking happening. You’re going to pass out.

"WHERE THE FUCK IS JESSE?!"

People part around her like she's radioactive, about to explode.

Dina turns white.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck-" she mutters, desperately, grabbing your arm hoping for some sort of protection, then letting go like touching you might make things worse.

Ellie locks eyes on her.

"YOU LYING FUCKING BITCH! HOW LONG WERE YOU GONNA KEEP IT FROM ME? HUH? YOU THINK I WOULDN'T FIND THE FUCKING PISS-STAINED PREGNANCY TESTS YOU HID IN THE SHOE BOX UNDER THE FUCKING SINK? You think I wouldn't notice how much you were puking in the morning?"

Her voice cracks.

"You think I'm fucking stupid?"

Dina flinches when Ellie stepped closer, staring in horror, scared of ellie’s next move.

"You cheated on me with Jesse while I was cheating on her?" Ellie snarls pointing straight at you, voice dripping with venom.

Then she laughs. "We're all so fucking noble in this little circus, aren't we?" looking in the crowd hoping for some kind of approval, nobody moves everyone is dead silent.

Thankfully Jesse steps foward, grabbing Ellie by the shoulders. “Ellie just go home, that’s enough” he said, voice stern and serious. Ellie wasn’t having any of it, she shoves him into the ground.

Dina tries to grab her from behind.

“Ellie, stop—people are filming—”

Ellie swings back.

“Don’t fucking TOUCH me! Go be a mom or something, you lying bitch!”

Jesse storms up.

“Alright, that’s enough—”

Ellie rounds on him.

“YOU THINK YOU GOT A FAMILY NOW?! WHAT, YOU GONNA DO BETTER THAN YOUR FUCKING DAD DID?!”

Her voice is shrill, mean.

“YOU’RE A FUCKING FAILURE JUST LIKE THE REST OF US!”

She’s pacing in circles now. Pulling at her hair. Screaming. Shaking.

And then—she stops.

She turns and sees you, grabbing onto abby like she was your savior… you made the mistake of looking back.

Just once.

And she runs.

Charges up to you like a tidal wave. Abby steps in front of you fast as hell, calm as a blade. Ellie shoves her. hard .

Abby doesn’t even move.

“Don’t fucking look at her like that,” Abby warns. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Ellie laughs, a sick, choking sound. “You think this is over, you fucking ogre? You think you’re all that just ‘cause you’ve got abs and daddy’s money?“

She leans close. Invading abby’s space.

“fuck off, williams” abby spits, eyes filled with furry, balling her fists.

“Or what?” Ellie barks. “You gonna call your daddy to come pick you up in a fucking helicopter? You rich piece of shit. Oh you wanna hit me? Yeah hit me you fucking bitch, show her that you’re just like me” a big grin spreads across ellie’s face, she snorts and on in her nose really getting into abby’s face. “tell me anderson, when was the last time you fucked someone without them thinking about someone else, huh? I bet she thinks about me every time you’re knuckles deep inside her..bet all her sweet moans are just for me in the fucking end” she held her tattooed hand up and wiggled her middle and index fingers, showing off her muscle memory. Abby scoffs, cold and disgusted of ellie’s little show.

“don’t fucking talk about my dad again, this is your final warning” she says, her voice is low, controlled and so deadly.

Ellie grins. “Or what? what are you going to fucking do?”

Abby’s eyes narrow. “Or I’ll remind you why she left you.”

Ellie snaps. Like a match. Like a bomb. Like everything she’s buried explodes at once. She only sees red. The half empty bottle that was once in her hand was thrown against the wall, the sound of glass shattering made the guests gasp, everything was frozen, nobody dared to move.

Ellie Lunges at Abby—fists flying, nails out. Screaming like she’s being exorcised.

“YOU FUCKING FAKE BITCH! I’LL RIP THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE! YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME!”

Abby grabs her by the arms and slams her back into the wall.

“You did this to yourself.”

Ellie struggles, thrashing, crying, sobbing, spitting in her face.

“I LOVED HER! I FUCKING DIED FOR HER! YOU DON’T DESERVE HER!”

People are screaming now—trying to pull them apart..but abby’s not done just yet. She punches ellie right in the fucking mouth, you swear you could her bones cracking. Ellie spit out a load of blood and wiped her bloody (probably broken) coke filled nose. She laughs through it.

“Hit me again, rich girl. Hit me again so I can finally feel something.” Abby picks her up and throws her against the fall, letting her fall to the ground, turning at you. “we’re leaving now” you nod, still unable to form any words after what you just witnessed, your head was buzzing full of things you needed to process.

“w-wait”

ellie sobs, crying in pain as she grabbed into the shattered glass of her once half empty bottle of jack..a failed attempt of getting on her feet. Emerald Eyes filled with pain. Rage. Desperation.

“Please.”

she begs, crawling and dragging herself just to be near you. Now she’s on her knees directly by your feet, you’re wearing those stupid designer heels abby gifted you…she hated it.

“Please, don’t do this. Don’t let her take you. She doesn’t love you like I do. She doesn’t know you like I do. I’ll change. I’ll die if I have to. I’ll do anything just don’t leave me, baby. I love you I never stopped, Dina means shit to me i don’t give a fuck about her it was a fucking mistake! I don’t need anyone but you i can’t eat, i can’t sleep i can’t fucking live without you by my side I-“

she’s gasping for air, choking between her sobs, a mix of snot and blood running down her face.

“I’ll kill myself if you walk out. I swear to God. Just say something. Look at me. PLEASE.”

You squeeze abby’s hand and kneel down, meeting at eye level with ellie. you don’t recognize her anymore, this couldn’t be the ellie you once loved. Disappointment and disbelief written all over your face, ellie knew there will never be a second chance.

“I’m not yours anymore, ellie. If you really love me please get the help you need and never ever talk to me. I want you out of my life forever. I don’t ever want to hear a word from you again. Forget about me, act like i never existed or whatever helps you be normal again..just let me be happy. I love abby and you can’t change that.”

Ellie wanted to comfort you, let you cry in her chest while she tells you that everything will be okay..instead abby helped you up placing a soft kiss on your forehead as your mascara stained tears streamed down your cheeks, she made sure not to ruin your makeup as she wiped them away, even now you looked so beautiful and breathtaking. “I love you so much, princess..let’s get the hell out of here i’ll take you to my place you’re safe with me, this junkie will never bother you again i promise” abby said softly, guiding you towards the exit, directly to her car, her arm never letting go of your waist.

Ellie stayed in the same spot, screaming and crying, calling out your name as if you’d save her..Jesse told everyone to go home and stop recording while dina called the police. They waited until the cops dragged ellie out of his house, forcing her into their police car as she struggled and refused to leave until you came back..which never happened. Dina stayed the night at jesse’s too scared of going home and being alone. They talked everything out, about their baby and the future, deciding on a fresh start..”okay okay Hi my name’s Jesse, what’s yours?” Jesse joked earning a giggle from dina “oh shut up jesse! we better apply to a parenting class soon" dina giggled,both of them admitting that they never got over the feelings for each other..

💫

You could finally breathe again as you arrived at Abby’s place. A beautiful big house, a mansion almost. “We have to be quiet, Dad and Lev are probably asleep. You’ll meet them tomorrow morning,okay?” Abby whispered as she unlocked the front door, revealing her german shepherd, Alice. You immediately dropped to her knees petting and cuddling the puppy, you loved dogs so much, almost making you forget about the incident with ellie earlier. Abby pulled out her phone and sneaked a picture of you playing with alice, setting it as her lockscreen. She kneeled by your side, scratching behind Alice’s ears.

“nobody will ever hurt you again, baby. I promise you”

🎀

pt 11

[inheritedbelly]

From Arrogant Princess to Manual Laborer

It was my day off, and I was already bored just thinking about staying still. As I walked down the sidewalk, my mind full of disdain for that stifling day, I spotted a manual laborer leaning against the wall next to the shop. He was only wearing pants, his sweaty, exposed body making his repulsive appearance even worse. He was an old, pot-bellied man with sticky skin from all the sweat, and the graying hair scattered across his arms and chest only made him uglier. The mere sight of that man made me nauseous.

For some inexplicable reason, he flashed a feeble smile when he saw me approaching and said in a hoarse voice, "Good morning, pretty girl."

That irritated me deeply. Who did he think he was? I responded, full of disgust: "Shut up, you ridiculous fool." The smile vanished from his face, replaced by a look of sadness. He lowered his head, clearly hurt, and went back to his heavy work, but I didn’t care anymore. It wasn’t my problem. I left home that morning determined to waste some of my time on something trivial. That's when I passed by that little esoteric shop in the city center, almost hidden between a café and a clothing store. I went in, more out of curiosity than real interest. The place was a mess of trinkets, smelling of cheap incense, with lighting that seemed to come from melted candles. "So ridiculous," I thought, smirking in disdain.

"Can I help you with something, dear?" the clerk asked in a soft, almost irritating voice. The way she looked at me, as if she knew something I didn't, made me uncomfortable. But I wasn't going to show it.

"Oh, I'm just looking. These things… they're funny, aren't they?" I replied, not hiding the sarcasm in my voice. She didn't seem fazed.

"Sometimes, the funny things have more power than we imagine," she said, with that tone that only made me want to laugh more.

She looked at me for a moment, as if she were assessing me, and then said, "I have something you might want to see." Without waiting for my response, she went to the back of the shop and returned with a small metal amulet, hanging from a black cord. It looked cheap, worthless.

"This amulet can reveal a person's true nature. Maybe it will show you something interesting," she said, holding it out to me. I laughed, taking the amulet with disdain.

"Oh, sure, like this is going to make any difference in my life. It's going to put me in my place, right?" I replied, laughing at the suggestion. "Well, at least it will give me a good laugh later." Still laughing inside at the situation, I held the amulet in my hand, and then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed.

Terror overwhelmed me. The world around me seemed to spin as I struggled to comprehend what had happened. I looked at my hands… thick, dirty, calloused. I was wearing a shirt that was drenched in sweat, sticking to my skin and accentuating every curve of that voluminous belly. And the hair… my God, the hair! I felt the brush of the damp hair under my armpits, heavy and nauseating with every movement. The stench of my own body was unbearable. A bitter, sour smell mixed with the stifling heat of sweat running in rivers down my back. I could feel my new anatomy sticking between my legs. With a mix of panic and fury, I re-entered the store, feeling that grotesque body sway with each heavy step. I was furious, desperate, and at the same time disgusted with every part of myself. I adjusted my shirt, embarrassed with people around staring at me. As I corrected my posture, I could feel the spherical belly against the now-closed damp shirt—it was terrifying.

“What have you done to me?!” I yelled, but the voice that came out wasn’t mine. It was deep, rough, laden with a rage that felt so… masculine. I stood there, panting, feeling the sweat trickle down my stubbly face as I tried to understand what was happening. That’s when I saw her: my body, my real body, standing in the store, just as terrified as I was. I was looking back at myself with my own eyes… and they were filled with fear. The old witch of the store smiled enigmatically and said, “This place provides fair exchanges. Now, the worker is in a better position… and you are where you truly belong.” I clutched my protruding belly while shouting, “Do you think this is my place?” The witch merely laughed, watching my terrified face. I looked at that man in my body, trying to process what she was saying. He was as lost as I was, looking at himself, at the slender, elegant hands that were now his. He looked confused, scared, like a child in someone else’s body.

I had to make a deal with the shopkeeper. I knew my parents would never believe a word I said about what had really happened. Who would? She promised that the change would last only one day. "As soon as you sleep, you'll return to your original body," she assured. I had no choice. I went to the worker's house, and he went to mine.

His house was a cramped, dirty cubicle, nothing like what I was used to. I just wanted to lie down and sleep, but before that, I had to use the bathroom. My God, the disgust I felt… that bathroom was so degrading, with the cold water, the sensation of damp hair, and the unbearable stench of sweat embedded in the skin. I almost cried out of revulsion.

Finally, I lay down on the hard bed, feeling the weight of that body against the rough sheets. I focused on trying to sleep, hoping that the nightmare would end.

But when I woke up… The first thing I did was scratch my hairy chest—nothing had changed. I was still him. The smell, the weight, the sensation of the hair, the belly that felt like it weighed tons on my body. In desperation, I grabbed the phone and tried to call the store. But the response was always the same: "The number does not exist." My God, the number does not exist!

Panicking, I went to the store in person. When I arrived, my heart sank. The store simply did not exist anymore. There was no sign that it had ever been there. It was as if everything had been a delusion.

I stood there, sweat running down my back, feeling the weight of that grotesque body crushing me. And for the first time in my life, I didn't know what to do...

In the past few months, my life has turned into a nightmare. I had to learn to be a man in ways I never imagined. The body, once smooth and feminine, now forced me into a rough, macho behavior that I hated. There were no traces left of my former femininity; everything had transformed into something I barely recognized as myself. No matter how hard I tried, not even my feminine gait remained; I walked like a big, beer-bellied man.

Going to the bathroom has become a terrifying experience. Peeing standing up? A nightmare. Now I understand why guys always miss; it's incredibly difficult to aim with these things, especially since mine seems to be on the larger side. And men's bathrooms, with their awful odors and filth, are even worse. The simple act of taking a shower has turned into a complex task. I no longer needed to use shampoo on my head since my hair was falling out in clumps, but now I had to use shampoo all over my body to clean all the hair that covered me and also to try to control the unbearable smell emanating from me. I tried shaving, but the hair grew back so quickly that it was impossible to keep up. With the miserable pay of a laborer, I couldn't afford a constant shaving routine. Waxing was expensive, and the rapid hair growth was a constant reminder of my new reality. I ended up resigning myself to dealing with the smell and the hair because there was no other choice.

I never heard from the laborer who took over my old body. He had no family, and now I was alone, condemned to live as a middle-aged, hairy, and unpleasant man. There was no more hope of reversing what had happened. Now, my nights are spent in bars, drinking beer and trying to find some comfort in this new life. I’ve learned to go shirtless because the feeling of my belly pressing against the shirt was unbearable, and the heat only made it worse. Sometimes there are a few advantages: I no longer have to worry about wearing shirts all the time, and in a way, I feel an independence I didn't have before. I sit at the table, scratch my belly, and give it a slap, letting out a heavy sigh. I look at the reflection of a middle-aged man in my glass and sigh again. I am a man now…

[trustinsturniolos]

luxurious ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ chris sturniolo

❝chapter one — luxurious❞

❦ ᵎ!ᵎ player!chris x f!reader

⚠︎ ᵎ!ᵎ suggestive content ⟡ strong language ⟡ making out ⟡ lmk if more

ᝰ.ᐟ ᵎ!ᵎ idea from this song! i low-key like this but the ending is rushed! :(

people always saw you as tough and independent based off how you dressed, which fair enough, you are, but once people got to know you they’d realise you’re a sweetheart.

you never let anyone walk over you, sure you were sweet, but you had your guard up. ‘permanently’. except for chris.

he did what he wanted, acted how he wanted to, spoke to you how he wanted to, but for some reason you never did anything about it.

you two hook up constantly, but chris always has some silly reason to abruptly leave—a reason that was clearly fake; once it was that his dog, trevor, had died, but the next time you hooked up at his, you saw trevor and had questioned chris about it, but he’d simply shrugged—carelessly.

he often threw parties, to find girls to make out with, and you were always invited. whether he’d invited you himself, or your friend brought you, you always came.

and each time, you’d told yourself ‘don’t fucking go near chris’. but what did you do each time? go. near. chris.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

you giggled joyfully at your friend’s stupid jokes as you both sat on the cushiony couch, red ping pong cups filled with addictive alcohol inside occupied your hand, when you saw chris approaching.

your friend, obviously, was aware of your hookups with chris that filled you with nothing but regret after, so it wasn’t just your faces that dropped to a pissed off expression as chris approached you.

“hey darlin’.” chris charmed as he stood in front of you, predatorily looking down at you. the most smug grin painted on his ridiculously attractive face as his tooth swiped over his teeth.

“piss off, chris.” you spat, trying not to adore the way his perfectly tousled hair curved around his features, or the way his stupidly gorgeous blue eyes contrasted with the neon lights that flashed against his smooth skin.

he was so perfect—he was so chris.

it only made you want to hate him more, but you couldn’t. and he knew that.

“scoot over.” his friendly tone forced your friend’s eyes to narrow even more, especially as he tapped her shoulder to part you both.

“don’t touch me.” she demanded, the frustration in her making her want to spit in his face, or hit him. nevertheless, she moved over. just a little.

“good girl.” he sat down comfortably in between you both, flashing you an innocent, toothy grin, knowing his words would make you somewhat jealous.

you were his good girl, not your friend.

you weren’t annoyed at your friend at all, no. you were annoyed with chris. i mean, when aren’t you?

“so, how are you?” his calm tone made you blood boil.

“—‘how am i?’ get to the point chris, why are you here.” you snarked with a squint of your eyes and clench of your teeth.

“bratty already? wow.” you were about to interrupt him, when he quickly adds, “fine, fine, i’m here to make out with you in the bathroom.” his abruptness and confidence made you scoff loudly, jaw agape, eyes widened. the guts he has.

“what the fuck’s wrong with you, chris?! you’re so fucking irritating!” you jumped up from the couch. even you knew you would go with him, but why not prolong the wait?

“hey, hey, calm down, ma! you wanted me to get to the point.” he shrugged, his tone cocky and unbothered as he stood up from the couch.

as much as you hated to admit it, because of chris, you hadn’t been with another guy in ages. so any kind of sexual intimacy was irresistible to you.

“are you comin’ or not?” he held his warm hand out.

“i..no—chris..th—”

“just come.”

the mix of the increasingly loud volume of the music blaring through the speakers and the alcohol urged you to go with him now, but your head told you not to.

but what did you do? “fine.” with a roll of your eyes, you went with him, but not before slapping his hand away.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

your hands wrapped on both sides of his neck as you leaned into the kiss.

the kiss was sweet like sugar but passionate and the tension in the air was thick like honey—it was sexy.

“fuckin’ missed this, baby.” he spoke in between kisses, lust filled his voice.

you tried to ignore his words, he makes out with loads of girls—why would he miss you? did he mean it?

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

the kiss grew more intense, more needy. chris’ tongue pushing past your lips, selfishly invading your mouth as his tongue swirled around yours. his calloused hands roaming around your hip, fingers digging possessively into your flesh.

but it soon turned to more. your hand was now rapidly trying to undo his belt, as he slowly slid your trousers down, revealing the top of a lacy black thong.

“chris! hurry up man, i’m leaving!” matt’s voice boomed from outside the bathroom door, along with a harsh knock, just as chris was about to speak.

chris let out an audible groan, his jaw clenching tightly as his grip on you grew tighter. “fuck.” he stepped back, bringing his hand down to his crotch to palm his—hard, dick, temporarily relieving the pain from being hard.

“gotta go, my bad.” he muttered frustratedly, before turning toward the door and yanking it open, greeting matt with a scowl.

he stormed off, towards the car, matt following behind.

taglist : @tezzzzzzzz @urgirlclaire @astrxl @sturnschris @persephonesluvs @presleycaudle @ivysturnss @obsessedwiththesturniolos @sofisturns @evansturn @rubyyyriddle @chrisbrowser @oh-icantgetaway @leiyanac @sturnedits @bookieluvss12 @choppeddestinywhispers @luvvnai @emely9274 @fancygladiatorwasteland @sturniolooofan @hearts4sturniolos @sophand4n4 @fics4thetrips @strombolisfavourite

[fayelero]

— FRIENDZONE ! atsumu miya

syn : how are u gonna go out of the friendzone ?

wc : 2.7k

tw : none ! friends to lovers

You and Atsumu have been inseparable since middle school, your bond so strong that outsiders often mistake you for a couple. However, you've always maintained that you're just close friends, pushing down the flutter in your heart whenever he's near. Atsumu, seemingly oblivious to your hidden feelings, treats you with the same easy familiarity he always has.

On this particular day, you're enjoying your lunch in the school courtyard, savoring the warmth of the spring sun on your skin. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom, their delicate petals drifting on the breeze. You're lost in thought, remembering all the years you've spent by Atsumu's side, when he suddenly drops onto the bench beside you with a heavy sigh.

You turn to look at him, concern etching your features. Atsumu's usually perfectly styled blonde hair is disheveled, as if he's been running his hands through it in frustration. His brow is furrowed, and there's a tightness around his eyes that you've come to recognize as a sign of his inner turmoil.

"Tsk, I'm confused why it's so hard to find a suitable lover for me???" he groans, ruffling his hair even further.

Your heart clenches at his words, a mix of sympathy and secret longing washing over you. You've loved Atsumu for years, your feelings deepening with each shared laugh, each volleyb all practice, each late-night study session. But you've never found the courage to confess, fear of ruining your friendship holding you back.

"What happened this time?" you ask softly, fighting to keep your voice steady.

Atsumu leans back, his shoulder brushing against yours. The casual contact sends a shiver down your spine, one you hope he doesn't notice.

"I asked Anako-san out," he admits, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "She turned me down flat. Said she's not interested in dating anyone right now."

You nod sympathetically, even as a small, selfish part of you rejoices. "I'm sorry, Tsumu. That must have been tough."

He shrugs, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I guess I should be used to it by now, huh? But sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with me. Am I not good enough?"

Your heart aches at the vulnerability in his voice. You want nothing more than to take his face in your hands and tell him how amazing he is, how any girl would be lucky to have him. How you've been in love with him for years.

Instead, you bump his shoulder gently with yours. "Don't be ridiculous. You're an amazing person, Atsumu. Any girl would be lucky to have you."

He looks at you then, his warm brown eyes softening. "Thanks. I don't know what I'd do without you, you know? You always know how to make me feel better."

You smile, ignoring the bittersweet ache in your chest. "That's what best friends are for, right?"

Atsumu nods, then suddenly grins. "Hey, maybe I should just date you instead! We already act like a couple half the time anyway."

Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you consider telling him the truth. But then he laughs, the sound light and carefree, and you know he's just joking. You force a laugh of your own, pushing down the words you long to say.

"As if you could handle me, Miya," you tease, falling back into your familiar banter.

As you sit there with Atsumu, an idea suddenly strikes you. It's painful, but you convince yourself it's for the best. "Hey, Tsumu," you say, trying to keep your voice light, "I think I might know someone who'd be perfect for you. Want me to set you up?"

Atsumu looks at you, surprise evident in his features. "Really? You'd do that for me?"

You nod, ignoring the twinge in your chest. "Of course. That's what friends are for, right?"

Without giving yourself time to reconsider, you pull out your phone and call your friend, Yui. She's pretty, kind, and has mentioned finding Atsumu attractive before. You arrange for her to meet you both at the courtyard.

A few minutes later, Yui arrives. Her long dark hair is swaying in the breeze, and she's wearing a cute sundress. As soon as she spots Atsumu, her eyes light up.

"Hi, Yui!" you call out, waving her over. But to your surprise, she barely glances at you. Her gaze is fixed solely on Atsumu, a shy smile playing on her lips.

"Hello, Atsumu-kun," she says softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Atsumu straightens up, his earlier dejection forgotten. "Hi, Yui-chan. It's nice to see you."

You watch as they start talking, feeling increasingly out of place. The conversation flows easily between them, and you can see the interest sparking in Atsumu's eyes. It's exactly what you wanted, you tell yourself, even as your heart feels like it's breaking.

After a few minutes of awkward silence on your part, you decide you can't take it anymore. "Well," you say, forcing a bright smile onto your face, "I just remembered I have some studying to do. Why don't you two stay and chat?"

Yui nods absently, still focused on Atsumu. But Atsumu turns to look at you, his brow furrowing slightly. You know he's always been able to read you better than anyone else, and you can see the concern in his eyes as he studies your face.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice laced with uncertainty. "You don't have to go."

You wave him off, your fake smile still firmly in place. "No, no, it's fine. You two have fun!"

As you turn to leave, you feel Atsumu's eyes on you. You know he can tell something's off – he's always been able to see through your fake smiles. But you can't bring yourself to look back. You're afraid that if you do, he'll see the truth in your eyes, the pain you're trying so hard to hide.

You walk away, each step feeling heavier than the last. Part of you hopes that Atsumu will call out, will stop you from leaving. But he doesn't, and you're not sure if that makes it better or worse.

As you round the corner, out of sight from the courtyard, you finally let your smile drop. You lean against the wall, taking a deep, shaky breath. You tell yourself that this is what's best for Atsumu, that you're being a good friend by helping him find someone. But it doesn't stop the ache in your chest or the tears that threaten to fall.

You stay there for a moment, gathering yourself. Then, with one last deep breath, you straighten up and walk away, leaving your heart behind in that sun-dappled courtyard with the boy you love and the girl who might make him happy.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

—

The next morning, you drag yourself to school, your heart heavy with the events of yesterday. The spring air feels colder somehow, the cherry blossoms less vibrant. You're lost in thought, replaying yesterday's scene in your mind, when a familiar voice calls out to you.

"Hey! Wait up!"

You turn to see Yui running towards you, her long hair streaming behind her. Your stomach twists uncomfortably, but you force a smile onto your face.

"Good morning, Yui," you manage to say as she reaches you, slightly out of breath.

"Morning!" she chirps, her eyes bright with excitement. "I'm so glad I caught you. Do you know where Atsumu is?"

Your heart sinks even further. Of course, she's looking for Atsumu. "I... I'm not sure," you stammer. "We don't always walk to school together."

Yui's face falls slightly, but her enthusiasm doesn't wane. "Oh, that's okay. I just wanted to thank him for yesterday. We had such a great time talking after you left!"

You nod mechanically, trying to keep your expression neutral. "That's... that's great, Yui. I'm glad you two hit it off."

"We really did!" she gushes, falling into step beside you as you continue walking. "He's so funny and charming. And those eyes! I could get lost in them forever."

Each word feels like a dagger to your heart, but you keep nodding, keep smiling. This is what you wanted, isn't it? For Atsumu to find someone who appreciates him?

"Oh!" Yui exclaims suddenly. "There he is! Atsumu-kun!"

Your head snaps up, and sure enough, there's Atsumu walking through the school gates. He turns at the sound of Yui's voice, his eyes scanning the crowd until they land on you. For a moment, something flickers in his gaze - concern? confusion? - but before you can decipher it, Yui is already bounding towards him.

You watch as she reaches him, talking animatedly. Atsumu smiles at her, but his eyes keep darting back to you. You want to look away, but you can't seem to tear your gaze from him.

Suddenly, Atsumu says something to Yui and starts walking towards you. Your heart rate speeds up, and you consider turning and fleeing. But before you can decide, he's there, standing in front of you.

"Hey," he says softly. "You okay? You left pretty quickly yesterday."

You open your mouth to reassure him, to lie and say everything's fine. But as you look into his warm brown eyes, the words stick in your throat. For a moment, you're both silent, the bustling noise of the schoolyard fading away.

Then the bell rings, shattering the moment. You blink, coming back to reality.

"We should get to class," you mumble, ducking your head to avoid his gaze.

Atsumu reaches out, his hand hovering near your arm as if he wants to stop you. But he lets it fall back to his side. "Yeah," he says, his voice tinged with something you can't quite identify. "Yeah, we should."

As you walk away, you can feel his eyes on your back. You want to turn around, to run back and tell him everything. But you keep walking, one foot in front of the other, towards your classroom and away from the boy you love.

The day stretches ahead of you, full of classes and conversations and moments where you'll have to pretend everything is normal.

—

As lunchtime arrives, Atsumu finds himself rushing towards your classroom, a strange urgency driving his steps. He's been feeling off-kilter since yesterday, a nagging sensation he can't quite place. But as he rounds the corner, he stops dead in his tracks.

There you are, but you're not alone. You're laughing with a guy he doesn't recognize, your head thrown back in genuine mirth. Something hot and unfamiliar surges through Atsumu's chest. Before he can process what he's doing, he's striding towards you two.

"Back off," he growls at the guy, his eyes flashing dangerously.

You whirl around, shock evident on your face. "Atsumu? What are you-"

But you don't finish your sentence. Instead, you grab Atsumu's wrist and drag him away, muttering a quick apology to your bewildered classmate. You pull Atsumu into the nearest empty space - the janitor's closet - and shut the door behind you.

The small space is dim and cramped, filled with the scent of cleaning supplies. You're standing so close to Atsumu that you can feel the heat radiating off his body, but you push that thought aside as anger bubbles up inside you.

The janitor's closet door slams shut behind you, the small space amplifying the tension crackling between you and Atsumu.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" you seethe, your voice low but filled with fury.

Atsumu's eyes flash dangerously. "Me? What about you? Who was that guy you were all cozy with?"

"That's none of your business!" you snap back. "You don't get to act all jealous when you're out there chasing every girl in school!"

"I'm not chasing every girl!" Atsumu retorts, his voice rising. "And even if I was, why do you care?"

"Because it's pathetic!" you shoot back, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "You're so desperate for a girlfriend that you can't even see what's right in front of you!"

Atsumu's face contorts with anger. "What's that supposed to mean? You're the one who set me up with Yui yesterday!"

"Because that's what you wanted, isn't it?" you yell, your carefully constructed walls crumbling. "To find a 'suitable lover'? Well, congratulations! Looks like you've found one!"

"You don't know what I want!" Atsumu shouts, taking a step closer to you.

"Oh, don't I?" you laugh bitterly. "I've been watching you flirt and get rejected for years, Atsumu. I think I have a pretty good idea!"

"You don't know anything!" he growls, frustration evident in every line of his body. "If you did, you wouldn't be laughing it up with some random guy!"

"He's not random, he's my friend!" you defend hotly. "And what does it matter to you anyway? You're too busy with your own love life to care about mine!"

"That's not true and you know it!" Atsumu's voice echoes in the small space. "I've always cared about you!"

"Oh, really?" you scoff, even as your heart races at his words. "Is that why you're always complaining to me about not having a girlfriend? Is that why you let me set you up with Yui without a second thought?"

"I didn't ask you to do that!" Atsumu shouts back. "You're the one who suggested it!"

"Because I thought that's what you wanted!" Your voice cracks with emotion. "I thought… I thought I was being a good friend."

"A good friend?" Atsumu repeats incredulously. "A good friend wouldn't push me towards other girls if they…"

He trails off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air between you.

"If they what, Atsumu?" you press, your heart pounding so hard you're sure he must be able to hear it.

"If they had feelings for me themselves," he finishes quietly.

The silence that follows is deafening. You stare at each other, both breathing heavily from the argument.

"Is that what this is about?" you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think I have feelings for you?"

Atsumu runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every movement. "I don't know! Do you? Because sometimes I think… but then you do things like set me up with other girls, and I just don't understand!"

"You don't understand?" you repeat, your own frustration bubbling over. "How do you think I feel, watching you chase after every girl but me? Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"

Atsumu's eyes widen. "What are you saying?"

You take a deep breath, realizing there's no going back now. "I'm saying that I love you, you idiot! I've been in love with you for years, but I was too scared to say anything because I didn't want to ruin our friendship!"

Atsumu stares at you in shock for a long moment before a smile slowly spreads across his face. "You love me?"

You nod, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "Yeah, I do. But if you don't feel the same way, I understand. We can just forget this whole thing and-"

You're cut off as Atsumu closes the distance between you, cupping your face in his hands. "I love you too," he says softly. "I've been in love with you for so long, I can't even remember when it started."

"But… all those other girls?" you ask, confusion replacing your anger.

Atsumu shakes his head. "I was trying to get over you. I thought you only saw me as a friend. I never dreamed you might feel the same way."

You laugh incredulously, tears pricking at your eyes. "We've both been such idiots, haven't we?"

"The biggest," Atsumu agrees, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that's escaped down your cheek. "But maybe we can start being smart now?"

You nod, your heart feeling like it might burst with happiness. Atsumu leans in, his lips meeting yours in a soft, sweet kiss that feels like coming home.

When you finally break apart, you're both grinning like idiots. "So," you say, trying to catch your breath, "what do we do now?"

Atsumu takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "Now," he says, his eyes sparkling with joy and mischief, "we go have lunch. And maybe I can properly introduce myself to that guy as your boyfriend?"

You laugh, squeezing his hand. "I'd like that," you say softly.

Ⓡ kiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[kenposting]

He's Just Ken <3

Summary: Ken has always been more than fond of you, and he kept that to himself, like a small thought that didn't mean much. You, unbeknownst to him, of course, felt the same, and he is shocked to learn this.

AN: Erm I grew up writing on Tumblr but then I graduated and got a job and got married and very quickly divorced (I'm literally only 21 and he slept with someone else lol) and I figured I might as well start again so I am sorry of this is ridiculous but I just think Ken is the sweetest and he would never treat anyone like that! Damn. PS: Khosh if you saw this, no you didn't.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The sky got darker every night, and for some odd reason, it really, really frightened you. You weren’t sure if any of the other Barbies felt the same. Did anyone else make sure to hurry home before the light started dimming? Sure, you could ask about it, but what if this was a malfunction? What if they sent you to see Weird Barbie? 

You supposed that wouldn’t be so bad… unless they sent you to her alone… at nighttime. 

With a humph you washed the thought away and roller skated a little faster. With panicked glances behind you up at the sky, you missed what was right in front of you and bumped into something. Hard. 

All you heard was a yelp mixed with your own sound of surprise before hitting the ground. You blinked a few times before opening your eyes all the way. Again, you saw night fast approaching, but in the foreground was Ken. 

“Oh, hey Ken!” 

“Hey, Barbie!”

“That hurt.” 

His skin glistened above you and you wished so bad that he wasn’t there to see you right now. How embarrassing… You really were good at skating too, but now he’ll never know that. You were quick to ask Ken if he was hurt as well, but he’s much larger than you and remained that it wasn’t more than a gentle bump. His yelp was one more of surprise and worry than anything. 

One pink-opened-face ambulance visit later and you were on your way. Although, now… it was nighttime and everywhere you looked was shaded a deep blue. 

Ken picked up on your uncomfort quickly, brows furrowing at the way you almost folded into yourself.

“Are you okay, Barbie? You’re usually so good at skating, I was surprised to see you fall.” 

You jumped a little, forgetting he was there, your breath catching in your throat. Wait, he thought you were good at skating? 

“Sorry, Ken. I’m fine! Just…” you remembered the possibility of this being a malfunction and decided not to mention it. “Just a little dazed from the fall. Do you remember which way my Dreamhouse was?” 

Ken thought very hard. He looked as if there were actual wheels turning in his head. You worried he would hurt himself.

“Of course I do, I just hope you’re okay. I’m trying to think if I’ve ever met anyone that had forgotten where they lived. Maybe this requires visiting Weird–”

“No!” A silence fell between the two of you. “No, I’m okay. I just… wanted an excuse to ask you to walk me home.” 

You had never seen Ken’s face that shade of pink before. Yes, you were afraid of the dark, but there was a very real underlying truth to your statement. You were always close with Stereotypical Barbie and had heard many times her griefs about Ken and the ways he liked her, and it sort of perplexed you. You got that she just didn’t feel the same, and it was sweet how he couldn’t pick up on that, but gosh… so many times you had found yourself wishing to be her, just for a day. After everything went down between the two of them, you saw a huge change in him. He was lighter, more sure of himself. You had even mentioned to the Barbies at a few girls nights how you felt very differently about him than Stereotypical barbie did, followed by squeals and encouragements to go after him. You couldn’t decide, though, which was scarier: nighttime or speaking to Ken. 

Ken stammered over his response before settling on a simple “Sure,” lifting out a bent arm for you to hold on to. You still had your rollerskates on, of course, because you didn’t bring any change of shoes. Duh. 

He slipped on his rollerblades too so you’d feel more comfortable, reassuring you he suddenly just felt like skating too. He thought it was cute that you couldn’t rollerblade yet and still used standard skates instead. You let him lead the way, the two of you gliding gently across the pink pavement. It was quiet at nighttime, and although that frightened you, something about this was different. Peaceful. 

You noticed Ken intentionally making some wrong turns. Maybe he also enjoyed spending extra time with you. Another humph to clear the thought from your head and, before you knew it, you stood outside of your home. 

Ken looked down at the ground, unsure of what to do or say now. He had also been searching (for weeks now, maybe months) for an excuse to walk you home. Never did he think that would happen, let alone the desire ever be reciprocated, even in the slightest. He started minimizing the whole thing in his head, reminding himself that it would be ridiculous if you thought of him in a way that was anything more than just friends, plus, you just fell down, you probably didn’t want to walk alone in case you fell again, and–

“Ken?” 

He had truthfully forgot you were even there. 

“Oh, sorry, Barbie. I’ll walk you to your door.” 

Something came over you and you panicked again. What if this was your only chance to tell him you liked him? I mean, how much longer could this go on? The skates made you much taller than you typically stood. Unfortunately, so did his, and you were still much smaller than him. You resorted to standing on the toe-stoppers to gain a little height, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Thanks, Ken."

He looked like he was about to barf, but in a really good way, if that makes sense. His mouth fell open and his cheeks darkened again. He wanted to say something – so much, he wanted to say so much, but he just… couldn’t. He just stared at you, frozen in place. 

You couldn’t believe you just did that. A thought crossed your mind, and at first it was sort of funny, but then very sad. 

“Hey Ken, where do you sleep? All of you, actually, where do the Kens sleep?” 

He still just looked at you, lips still parted. After blinking a few times, he looked around, almost searching for an answer littered on the ground somewhere. “Beach.” 

He laughed at himself. “Sorry, the beach. We just hang out at the beach.” 

“The beach? But its so dark out there…” 

His head tilted to the side a little. “It’s always dark at nighttime. You don’t like it? I find it kind of nice, actually.” 

You sheepishly shook your head. “It really scares me. For whatever reason... I always make sure I’m home before the sun goes down.” 

“So that’s why you’re never at any of Barbie’s parties?” 

You looked up at him and noticed your lipstick marked on his rosy cheek. 

“You noticed I'm never there?” 

“Of course I noticed. You’re the only reason I ever go.” 

He blushed after letting that slip. 

“And, it’s also fun, I guess.” 

You felt your cheeks start to heat up, but that’s nothing new. You always felt like this when you’re around him. 

“Anyways…” He smiled at himself. “You should come. I can walk you home every time so it won’t be scary.” 

Something bubbled up inside you and you literally and physically couldn’t take it anymore. You stood up tall to kiss him again, but this time he noticed, and you stilled in his gaze. 

“I…” Why was this so hard? You had daydreamed for ages about what to say to him if you ever gained the courage to speak up, and now that you finally can, it seemed impossible. 

“Do you want to some inside?” That wasn’t right. “I mean, I want you to come inside. Do you also want to come inside?” 

He looked at you so lovingly and let out a gentle laugh. He liked you so much, he didn’t even process what you had asked. Wait. Come inside? You wanted him to come inside? Like boyfriend girlfriend?? His eyes widened. 

“Why?” 

You stilled at his response. You just wanted to cry. He was right, why? Why would you ask such a dumb question? He would never like you that way, and you felt silly for assuming he would. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I’ll see you later, Ken–” 

“No!” He startled himself at the outburst. “Sorry, I meant… Why me? Do you… Do you like me?” 

You were relieved at his explanation, but he wasn’t exactly making it easy for you. 

“Well… yeah. That’s why I’m asking you to come inside.” 

It was like fireworks went off in his brain. Your words banged around inside his head so loud he couldn’t think of anything else. You liked him? You did just say yes, didn’t you? Did he make that up? 

“Oh well I also like you too as well a lot very much.” 

What? Literally what. What was that. He cringed at himself a little. He had also been dreaming of what he’d say to you, and this was definitely not it. 

You giggled at him. He was just so sweet, and so so nervous. Both of you were. You took his hand and lead him towards your home. 

Inside he just stood there, unsure of what to do. It was like if he moved he’d somehow ruin everything. You noticed he was like that a lot, actually. It made you kind of sad. 

He had liked your friend so much before, and even though that was years ago, it seemed to still really impact him. You realized it wasn’t about her, it was about him. It had changed the way he saw himself. Her not liking him back got twisted up in his mind somehow and he had taken it to believe that no one liked him. He felt silly for thinking she ever would, that anyone ever would. It became part of his own perception of the world around him, that he was some sort of nuisance or a bother. 

You sat on your couch and he helped you unlace your skates. His hands were stong and gentle, and with your skates off, he was now much taller than you. You stook directly at eye level to his chest. His shape was so defined. Gosh, why did Mattel build him that way?

Blinking the nerves away, you made your way to the kitchen. Bless his heart, honestly. He has no idea how good he looks, right now or ever. This was also silly at first, but now that you thought about it, it was sort of sad. Why didn’t he know? What does he think of himself? He’s always so dismissive of compliments, even from other Kens. Of course he asked why when you invited him in, he can’t comprehend being worthy of something like that. Sure, you had moments of being insecure as well, but this felt different, deeper. 

You glanced up to see him still sat on your couch. He was fidgeting with his hands and looking around. He looked like he felt uncomfortable; like he was somehow gravely out of place and believed he had overstayed his welcome. 

There was an ache in you at seeing him like that. As soon as you walked into the room, he perked up and smiled, thanking you for the glass of water – but you noticed his hands were shaking as he sipped it. 

“Ken, are you okay? I understand if you don’t want to stay over.” 

He nearly choked on the drink. “Stay over!? I thought you just wanted me to stop by, like, out of courtesy.” 

You smiled warmly at him and something … changed. He felt something shift inside of him, like he could feel that your smile was genuine and real and more than a courtesy. You looked at him the way he looked at everyone else. 

“No, Ken. I…” How do you say this? 

“I do like you, and if I wasn’t so shy, I’d tell you all about it. I love spending time with you. You just look very handsome and its making me a little nervous.” 

You heard a slight gasp from him. He had been waiting his whole life to feel liked or wanted or invited or worthy or important or… well, handsome. And to hear it from you? It was just too much. He teared up a little, something a lot less foreign to everyone since traveling to the Real World. He liked crying, actually. He just didn’t know why it happened so much. Was he just weaker than the other Kens? 

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” He sniffled out an apology, standing up to leave. It must've been a real mood-killer and the last thing he wanted to do was bum you out. 

You stood too, taking ahold of his hand. He looked down at you and saw you were also tearing up. 

“Ken, you’ve got to believe me.” 

He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t. He just stepped toward you and held onto you. 

The two of you cried – and the two of you apologized for it at the same time, your tears quickly evolving into giggles. The more you both tried to apologize for being a bummer the more you’d speak over one another and it really was very silly. 

He was blushing now, and he looked much more confident. He’s never met anyone that also feels so out of place. He felt comfortable around you, like he didn’t need to worry if he was bothering you. And to think you felt like you weren't worthy of him liking you? That was ridiculous, and very confusing for him, but it mad him feel differently. If he felt it was silly for you to feel unlikeable, wouldn't that mean he was silly for feeling that way too?

“Its okay, Ken, really. I like you, right now. You don’t have to do anything else.” 

And he’d never forgotten that. Everyday he was excited to exist for the first time in a long time. The already pink landscape of Barbieland seemed so much brighter now, and day after day he had a spring in his step. 

Months went by of him being encouraged by you, invited by you, seen by you -- he truly did like like you and he had no idea what to do about it, but he figured everyday he’d try his best to show you. 

Today was exactly six months since you biffed it on your skates. He still felt bad for knocking you over, but he was glad it happened. 

He breathed a shaky breath before knocking on your door. He was still always so nervous to see you, but in a good way. 

You opened it to be greeted by Ken in literally a tuxedo, and you immediately felt bad after letting out a laugh. He just beamed and laughed with you, striking a pose. So cool. 

“I know, its a lot. But I look good, don’t I?” 

You smiled up at him and shook your head. 

“Ken, you always look good. What is going on?” 

He handed you a bouquet of daisies (that matched his boutonniere, of course) and a shimmery white gift box. 

Shocked and confused barely scratched the surface. What was he planning? Sure, every time he saw you he brought you a gift, but it was usually something small and genuine, like a rock that ‘reminded him of you’ or something he noticed you eyeing on your last date. 

He shrugged it all off as if he wasn't dressed for some important extravagant black tie event. 

“I wanted to take you out and I wanted it to be special. Thought it would be nice for a change.” 

You felt like crying again. All the Barbies and Kens teased the two of you for being sensitive, but you really did enjoy the vulnerability the two of you shared. I mean, how sweet is he? Could he get any sweeter?

The gift box held a blush pink gown, which, of course, made you cry for real this time. 

The two of you looked very lovely together. You both giggled the entire duration of the very long and uphill car ride, Ken giving you secret directions to the spot he picked because he cannot drive (LOL). 

You turned the corner to see a very small and intimate restaurant. It was encased at the edge of the mountain, overlooking the sea. 

Now both of you were crying (and laughing at each other because the other was crying). He took your hand and lead you to a small candlelit table. 

“Ken, what is going on? This is all so beautiful.” 

He looked down and smiled, shrugging, before straightening himself up and clearing his throat. You presume he was attempting to build confidence, and it worked for a moment, but he very quickly returned to appearing very nervous. 

“Six months ago you absolutely ate it on the pavement and I’m really glad you did.” 

He was not off to a great start, but you found it charming. 

“Not that I was glad you got hurt… Sorry, hold on.” 

He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of pink paper. 

“You wrote this down?” 

“Hey, you’re ruining it!” He laughed at himself, feeling a little silly and overly serious. 

“Anyways…” He tossed the paper, opting for improvising the rest of what he wnated to tell you. 

“I’m glad you suck at rollerskating because that means I get to hold your hand and guide you. I’m glad I can’t drive because it gives me an excuse to ask you to take me everywhere. I’m glad the nighttime freaks you out because I get to swoop in and save you from it. I’m glad you cry all the time because I do too and I’m glad I do because it probably makes you feel better about it, just like you make me feel better about it.” 

He was right, and his words had you crying already. 

“I hope you never get better at rollerskating or not crying or being scared of the dark, and I surely hope I never learn how to drive, but even if all of that did happen, I promise I would make up another excuse to be with you. That night you told me you were also looking for an excuse to be with me when you, again, absolutely spilled on your skates, and for the first time I felt like I meant something to someone. And to you.” He sighed at the thought of it. “I can’t believe it was you. I wish I had words to sum up the amount of time I had been running through what I’d say to you if I only could, and I still choked on it, just like now. Everyday it’s like I can’t breathe when you’re not around. I mean, all the Kens hate me because I can’t shut up about you.” 

The two of you laughed again, and you saw he was tearing up now too. 

“I like you Barbie.” His blush deepened. “No, I love you, Barbie. And I wanted to take you here to try and make you feel even a fraction of how you make me feel. Special, and important. And handsome.” 

“Ken…” He did look so handsome in the lighting, and the lull of the other guest’s conversations washed over the two of you. You realized the nighttime wasn’t so scary when Ken was around. 

“Ken, I love you too.” You response was rushed, like you couldn’t help the words from just spilling out. 

“I’ve always liked you, for years, you can ask the other Barbies. I don’t have the words either, but I promise I thought of you just as much, if not more. I still think of you. I’m thinking of you now and you’re in front of me.” 

He giggled at you and felt the familiar warmth of being truly appreciated. 

“I just wish there was some way to show you.” 

His eyes looked up at you. He felt the same way you did. He also noticed sometimes you couldn’t believe he liked you either. It was a funny situation, the two of you both feeling flattered in the other’s gaze. 

“Then show me.” 

You couldn’t make it home fast enough. You fumbled with the door of the Dreamhouse before leading him inside. His hands were shaking again, but not from insecurity or fear this time. 

He was so gentle as he touched you, grazing his hands over your arms, almost like he was seeking permission. 

“Yes, its okay.” 

His breath was shaky, as was yours, and every gesture was laced with respect and admiration. He was slow and attentive to your reactions. You stood tall to kiss him, but you couldn’t make it. He smiled at you before leaning down to help you close the gap, choosing to still let you kiss him instead of the other way around. 

Sure, the two of you had kissed lots of times, but always very quickly. Both of you were head over heels for the other and the thought of anything more made your ears heat up. You slowly leaned forward, pressing your lips against his. He placed a gentle hand on the small of your back, guiding the two of you. 

You sat on your couch like you both had hundreds of times. What was so different now? It felt personal, like you both knew he wasn’t over to just hang out this time. 

“Is this okay?” 

His blue eyes were just enchanting. Everything about him, actually, like all he was programmed for was making you laugh and ensuring you were always comfortable. 

You nodded, asking him the same. 

He smiled at you. 

“Yeah, more than okay. I just want you to feel safe.” 

You just wanted to scream. He was so sweet and kind and handsome and tall and silly and smart. It was just ridiculous. 

“Ken.” 

You began, looking very serious. He thought it was very cute. 

“You said you loved me and I love you too.” 

He nodded, wondering where you were going with this. 

“That means we’re girlfriend boyfriend.” 

He felt a little dizzy hearing you say that, like he’d imagined it so many times before, and he hadn’t really thought about it in a while. 

“And I think I want to do what girlfriends boyfriends do.” 

He smiled at you. You looked so sweet. 

“And what is it that they do?” 

You hadn’t really thought that far yet. 

“I’m actually not sure.” 

He knew what that felt like. When he went to the Real World with Stereotypical Barbie, he learned all about what people do when they’re girlfriend boyfriend, and a lot of it was sad and felt very mean to the girlfriends. He did remember, though, a lot of movies and books he’d read about the nice and sweet parts of it though. 

“I know a little bit about it, but I’m not sure if you’d like it.” 

He wasn’t teasing you at all, and you knew that. He leaned forward and whispered, too shy to speak about those things too loudly. 

Your eyes widened. This all sounded absurd, but you couldn’t help but notice a warmth spreading throughout yourself. For some reason you wanted to kiss him more than you ever had. 

“Of course, I’ve never done any of it before. But I guess there’s a first time for everything, and it seems like most people in the Real World take it very seriously.” 

Your brows furrowed at this and you sat up straight, taking it very seriously. 

He couldn’t help but laugh at you. You were just glowing, sat there in your gown he picked out for you. It was an honor to see you always, but now felt even more special. He couldn’t believe you were thinking about him. It was very sweet, but he also felt a warmth spreading within himself, one he didn’t recognize, and he also wanted to kiss you. 

The two of you sat in this feeling for what felt like hours. You felt like you were on fire under his gaze, and he felt the same way. 

“Ken, can I kiss–” 

He didn’t let you finish. 

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

More Ken stories here <3

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

NATALIAAAAAAAAAA

Hewwo :3

Might I make a request from my first nemesis????

I simply yearn for a Hero whumpee with a yandere Villain. Please pile on as many extra tropes as you like, and even extra, platonic yanderes if you feel like it! You can't go wrong with some good bridal carries, restraints, drugging, and spoiling poor Hero :3

Huffleeee! Girl, I am so sorry as to just how ridiculously late this is, but finally I finished it. I hope you enjoy it! Also, first snippet of 2025, happy new year < 3

My Hero

TW: Blood, injury, restraints, drugging, yandere villain, unconsciousness

Run. Because it was the only thing the hero could do. He was essentially stuck between a rock and a bad place, trying to sustain the least amount of injuries possible from the hailstorm of bullets and debris. 

Missions going awry was an occupational hazard, but this degree of utter chaos wasn't something the hero had accounted for. He usually knew how to contain any messes that could've happened.

There was blood seeping down his cheek, mixing in with dust and sweat that was enough to make his eyes burn. He wasn't even sure how far he'd made it, his muscles aching and burning with exhaustion. He'd never run from danger before, cursing himself and his luck in the process, and yet what else was there?

The roar that came next was deafening, flame erupted near the hero, an angry orange blooming around him close enough that he could feel the heat and start to cough up smoke, but not the fire licking his skin just yet. Glass from a building nearby exploded into tiny smithereens, raining onto the crimefighter and drawing sharp, painful brushstrokes of crimson all over his face and exposed skin from the tattered suit. The whole world was spinning too fast, and the ground swayed underneath his feet as he collapsed face-first into a pile of rubble and glass, his consciousness stolen by a pitch black oblivion. 

The fact that he was even awake was a miracle in itself. His shredded clothes had been switched out for a clean linen shirt and pants, and he was lying on a soft surface, the excruciating pain he was supposed to be in nowhere to be found. The only thing that was wrong with his current situation was the soft leather restraints fixing his ankles to the bed. They were loose enough that he could sit up, but not so much that he could get off the bed.

The door opened, soft footsteps padding in. A woman of about his age with wavy, light brown hair and a mask around her eyes took a seat next to the bed. The villain. 

“You’re up. That’s good,” she said with a strangely pleasant smile. “I just need you to answer a few questions for me, Hero.” 

“And if I don’t?” he challenged, raising a questioning eyebrow. 

The villain’s smile was all teeth. “Do you even know what the questions are before you get so impulsive, darling?” 

The hero didn’t say a word, locking eyes with her, a hint of defiance in his gaze. 

“Do you remember most people you save, Hero?” she questions, her tone hushed and urgent. 

His brow furrowed a little. The question was personal, but it wasn't about classified information or anything that people usually wanted from him. “Why?” 

The villain was still smiling, but it was rigid, irritated. “That doesn't answer my question, dear.” 

He knew he couldn't fight back much without getting free of his restraints, and this question, at its core, was harmless, like something he might've told a reporter on an interview once. And it was a good distraction from what he was trying to do. 

“It depends. I try to talk to them, if I have any time, so they don't feel like some object I've picked up. But I only remember bits and pieces of very short interactions.” 

“But everyone you've ever saved would definitely remember you.” 

The hero's gaze flits up from where it was, having managed to find the lock. The villain peeled the mask away, staring at him with nothing short of admiration. 

He didn't remember much about her in particular, but he knew he'd seen before, saved her from a burning building, which probably explained why during every fight they had, the villain had seemed so strangely familiar.

At least he could make sense of why he was in a bed, his wounds wrapped snugly in bandages instead of on the floor of some dirty cell, being tortured for intel. The setting seemed strangely benign 

“What was the objective of your mission, Hero?” The villain's smile sharpened, staring through him like he was transparent. 

“I'm not answering. You can't torture it out of me if you tried.” 

The villain's laugh was hollow as she pulled a strand of hair away from her face.

“What truly fascinates me is how the agency managed to earn your loyalty,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, inching closer to the hero. His shirt was mostly open, her hand managing to find a scar a little below his chest, not quite fresh and not quite old from a particularly brutal “training session”.

“They don't treat you well, do they?” And the villain presses her hand deeper into the hero's skin, and he couldn't help but shiver. He hated how vulnerable he seemed, splayed open in front of the villain like a gutted fish. 

But he wasn't anything, if not ruthlessly stubborn. He flashed her a dangerous smile, sitting up a little straighter in bed. “Scars are an occupational hazard.” 

“I've seen what they do to their heroes, no matter how picture-perfect they are. What, do you think I leave things up to chance, darling?” 

The hero's brow furrowed, his lips getting pulled into a thin, hard line. She was clearly trying to find some chip in his armour, hammering away at it until he crumbled into nothing. Did she expect him to burst into tears at being reminded of the torture masquerading as training he went through almost everyday? Bloodied scratches, being forced to exhaust himself until he threw up, repeating everything all over again if he dared to mess up. These wounds were too old, the sting too familiar. 

“Why do you care? What do you want?” He was growing impatient, his tone clipped and his eyes narrowing. 

The villain's lips curved upwards into a strangely soft smile, her eyes growing brighter. “You,” she whispered softly, leaning down, gripping the nightstand with one hand.

The hero tried for a few false starts, his eyes wide, his breath catching in his throat.

“This whole mission, you getting injured, every little detail was my doing. Didn't I tell you I hate leaving this to chance, sweetness?” 

The fingers of her free hand wrapped tightly around the collar of his shirt, and the hero felt himself shrink back in spite of himself. 

“What?” The hero's tongue had barely formed the word, his mind racing in a million different directions. But no matter, he had to get out of here now and reminisce on this later.

Except the villain laughed again, mildly amused by the hero's feeble attempts at clawing at his restraints, before producing a syringe with an unassuming transparent liquid inside and promptly stabbing it into the hero's flesh. 

And in mere seconds he was drowning in pitch black, his thoughts muddled together in his consciousness evaporating into nothing. 

Sometimes the difference between a dream and a nightmare is a moment in time; a turning point that transforms bliss into torture. But the only reassurance a nightmare offers is no matter how horrific, you are bound to wake up. 

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