#every step of the way is designed to be as much of a drag and problem as possible and sad to admit but it worked on me Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[miikpal]

dont answer if you feel this is too personal, why cant you transition without suing your parents? i hope youre having a good tdov, from another less visible trans person <3

oh its not personal at all!

in poland we dont have a standarized legislation for changing your gender, so instead its usually carried out through a civil process in court - but that requires a defendant to even happen. so at some point its been decided you have to sue your parents (or, if theyre dead, appoint someone to represent them) and they HAVE to be present for the entire duration of court proceedings

this of course isnt a problem if your parents are supportive, and ive heard of court proceedings going well even if they arent. but im not even out to my folks and frankly sometimes i think its not even their buisiness, so the whole thing had me go like well. im not doing all that lol

[d0rothydraws]

After a night out things get heated and Sylus can't control himself, revealing a new side of him.

content: f!reader, monster cock, porn without plot, public sex, multiple orgasms, Inappropriate use of Evol, after care, just a lot of smut idk

w/c: 3.7k

Ao3: Here

a/n: This took so long i'm so sorry works been wearing me out so much I haven't been able to post much. I hope this satisfies all the monster fuckers that wanted this from my one post.

Tonight had been.. A lot. You and Sylus were at a dinner banquet. Apparently a very important man was hosting the event and Sylus was looking for information about something. You didn’t really know or ask. You don’t really ask many questions these days. Sylus had custom fit you one of the most beautiful dresses you had ever seen. It was made of the softest silk, the neckline was low yet tasteful, showing enough to catch some looks but not enough to feel exposed. The skirt had a high slit that went to the top of your hip, exposing your leg once in a while. As you walked, the long skirt looked like it was flowing around you like water. You wore matching blood red heels that looked like they were carved out of ruby. The light catching them in a mesmerizing way. Your hair was done in a way where it framed your face, pulled in an updo that bounced slightly every time you took a step. And on your neck was a crow pendant embedded with a ruby. 

To say it simply, you looked beautiful. Elegant. 

And Sylus couldn’t keep his eyes, or hands, off of you.

As you walked, his hand was draped around your waist, hand on your hip. Or his hand was on your lower back, or when you sat his hand was on your thigh, fingers drawing patterns that sent a chill down your spine. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, meeting yours once in a while. You almost could feel the hot breath that left him when this happened, exhaling every time as if he was trying to control himself. 

You couldn’t lie, it felt good to see him like this. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what you would look like in the dress, it was custom fit, custom designed just for you. He had seen it on you before. And yet when anyone looked over at you, giving you just the smallest bit of attention, you felt his hand tighten, body pulled closer. Your hip flush against his. You could feel heat radiating from his body.

Part of you wondered if he was going to end up dragging you into the bathroom. A couple times you thought he was considering it, especially as his hand moved to the inside of your thigh halfway through the banquet. His rough fingers trailed higher, brushing against your panties. He leaned over whispering in your ear, his voice thick as honey. 

“You look delicious.” His words sent a shiver through your body as your hand tightened on the fork you were holding. You looked around, everyone was talking about something you didn't understand. Nobody knew what was happening under the table. And in a bold decision, you parted your thighs just a little bit more. Moving your hips to press against the fingers that were tracing your folds through your panties. You heard his breath catch, his hand pausing for only a second, Sylus’ lips returned to your ear. 

“Try not to squirm too much, kitten. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold back.” He said as his fingers dipped under the fabric, calloused fingers grazing the sensitive skin. You took a bite of food to hide a moan, your face red as a shaky breath left your lipsticked lips. You wanted nothing more than to ride his hand. To throw all caution to the wind and thrust your hips against his fingers until you were clenching and twitching around him, begging for more. 

And suddenly, his hand was gone. Your disappointment must have been audible because he chuckled, bringing his finger to his lips. Swiftly he liked them as if he was licking off a stray drop of sauce that fell onto his hand. You caught the look in his eye as his right eye started glowing slightly. Glancing down you seen the red and black tendrils of his power snake its way around your leg. It felt warm and you tried to not shiver or make a sound as you felt the weight of it move between your thighs. Your panties pushed to the side and as a reflex you tried to close your legs. The tendrils pushed your legs back open gently, like a pair of hands and as you felt the warmth against your core, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching a hand out, putting it on Sylus’ thigh, nails pressing into the thick meat. 

It felt as if it was Sylus himself between your thighs, just a different version. The feeling was like a warm tongue licking at you, lapping up every bit that you provided as you tried your damndest to not moan, or at least, too loud. You never felt anything like this before. You almost forgot you were in public until you heard his voice in your ear again. 

“Quiet, kitten. You’ll get caught.” His voice was low, strained. A rush of adrenaline flooded your veins as you choked back a whine. The energy pushed inside you, curling exactly where you needed it. Licking your sensitive, throbbing clit. Your hand on his thigh tightened, nails digging in more making him give a low groan deep in his throat. 

“Sylus-” You said, trying to be quiet, but the sound was choked out. Your breathing was heavy, face red and eyes were starting to get glossy. “I can’t. P-please, I-” You let out a choked gasp, louder than you wanted as your orgasm rushed through you. You clenched around the thick mass of energy inside you as you panted, blushing so dark that you probably matched your dress. A few people turned to look, eyebrows raised in curiosity as they saw your out of breath expression. 

“We will be taking our leave now.” Sylus said, the energy around your lower half dissolved as if it never happened. Your legs felt numb as you tried to steady your thoughts, your heart pounding and blood rushing. Your body moved on its own as Sylus stood, as if being willed by him to follow. You had no complaints about this, your anticipation was as high as ever to get him alone. His hand was firm on your lower back giving you much needed support as you walked to the car.

The drive home was quiet but the tension was thick. His body was tense as he pulled into the driveway and before you could even open the door, the red-black tendrils of energy embraced you again. Your body was moved by a force you couldn’t fight even if you wanted to. A thrill ran through your body. He had never used his Evol on you like this before. 

You were placed in the middle of the bedroom, Sylus following you through the door as his eye glowed. His hands in his pockets as he looked at you with a hunger you never saw from him before. You let out a slow breath, feeling the energy dissolve into the air as he towered over you, a hand moving to your chin. 

“Sweetie, you almost made me lose control, looking like that in public. It’s dangerous, you know.” He said, fingers trailing your skin as his other hand trailed down the curve of your waist, admiring the figure hidden under the dress he picked out. 

“I guess you could say I had a good stylist.” You said with a half laugh, he chuckled, a low sound that warmed your core. His hand moved behind your neck, fingers making quick work of the tie that held the light dress on your body. With a flick of his fingers, the fabric fell to the floor around your feet. Your hand moved to his chest, trailing up to wrap around his tie. 

The tension broke as you pulled him down into a rough kiss, one of his hands curled in your hair while the other moved to your hip. He guided you as you felt the bed hit the back of your legs, one of his legs coming to rest on the edge of the bed as you fell back. His kiss was hot, hungry. Teeth bite your lip, tongues pushing against each other as your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. He took your hand from his tie, his fingers wrapping around yours as he pinned it above your head. 

“Do you trust me?” He breathed in your ear as he pulled back, panting softly. You could feel the hardness of his cock against your thigh, straining his pants. You arched your hips up to apply some pressure, making him groan. You knew there was only one answer to his question.  

“Yes.” 

The grip on your hand tightened as it was pushed harder into the soft mattress, his other hand moved to your face bringing your lips to his as he kissed you. Slow, deep. Different from the kiss you just had. You felt hot breath on your cheek as he breathed out through his nose asif he was holding his breath waiting for your answer. In turn, the kiss took your own breath away as you pulled back, your lips slightly red from how he bit your lip as you pulled back. His fingers traced the outline of your lower lip as his eyes stared down at you, red orbs swirling.

“Darling,” His voice made a low sound as his eyes looked into you. A serious look that brought you back to reality for a moment. He didn’t give you that look often.  “I’m not sure if I'll be able to hold back tonight.” Sylus sounded just as breathless as you felt. “If you need me to stop at any point, tell me. Promise me.” He said, the hand on your cheek gently tracing the skin under his fingers. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Your heart fluttered as you looked up at him. Your cheeks flushed as you took a deep breath, processing his words. 

You two had a safe word. It was well established when you started becoming physical. There was one time you did have to use it, not because of anything horrible but you weren’t in the right mindset for what he had planned that night. So instead of putting yourself through it, knowing that he wouldn’t want you to do that, you said it. He stopped instantly followed by a warm bath, snacks, and your favorite show. 

“I promise.” You breathed, looking into his eyes as he stared down at you. There was something that you couldn’t tell, that you never had seen before. “I trust you, Sylus.” You whispered, bringing your free hand to pull him into a slow kiss that matched the last one. You put your whole soul into that kiss, as if hoping he would understand just how much you cared for him. How without a thought you would put your life in his hands, knowing damn well that he would do the same for you. 

As the kiss continued, the energy began to change. Once soft and gentle was becoming something more. His lips were hot, hungry as he straddled your hips. His clothed cock grinded against your thigh making your body twitch and shiver with need. His hand on your face became rougher, holding your jaw firmly as his kiss devoured you. He pulled away with a soft growl, licking his lips. 

“You’re like a drug to me.” Sylus said as his hands moved to pull at his clothes, buttons unfastening to reveal his chest. Your mouth started to salivate at the sight.  Your hands moved up to help him, guiding your palms over the surface of his skin. Sylus let out a low sound, watching you as you made your way to his belt. He didn’t stop you as you undid the fasten. The sound of metal was loud in the room as it fell from its hold as Sylus pulled the belt and tossed it on the floor. 

His lips were on you again. Hungry, hot. You felt your breath be taken from your lungs as your hands were pinned above your head. His tongue pushing into your mouth, devouring you whole. He pulled away with a low growl, looking down at you, his eyes dark and his lips red from the kiss and the stain of your lipstick. 

“Roll over kitten.” Sylus purred as he let go of your hands and instantly you followed his direction. You felt the slick of your arousal as you moved, making your need even more known to you as you turned. Now with your ass to him, arched as your cheek laid against the pillow. You felt his fingers wrap under the lace of your panties, pulling them down to your knees. You looked over to him, your view obstructed but still managed to match his eyes. 

No words needed to be said, both of you needed the same exact thing and he wasn’t in a mood to tease you, at least not at the moment. His hands worked on his pants, letting them fall to the floor as he stood off of the bed, his boxers following. Your mouth watered, moaning into the pillow at the sight of him. Hard, dripping. His hand wrapped around his cock, pumping slowly as his thumb brushed against the angry red head. You felt your pussy clench as if trying to draw him in. He was beautiful. He didn’t even look human. No human could be this beautiful. 

As he climbed back onto the bed he wasted no time in positioning himself. He kissed your back, one hand on himself to adjust while the other was on your ass, sinking into the soft flesh. He kissed your back again before speaking into your ear, his voice was rough, deep.

“Remember our promise?” He whispered, his voice strained. Reminding you that you would use the safe word if you needed. You felt his tip slide against you, eager for the final confirmation. You nodded into the pillow, shifting your hips as you grinded against him. He groaned, the hand on your ass getting rougher as he held you still. 

He began to push into you slowly. You felt your body stretch to accommodate him, your moan loud as your body felt like electricity was pulsing through your veins at the feeling. Fuck he always felt so good. So thick, so heavy inside you. Your eyes rolled as he bottomed out his hands gently rubbing your back, your ass, the back of your thighs. He waited a moment, his breath strained as he tried to contain himself. But as he started to thrust it was a lost cause. 

You cried out moaning as he pulled out, thrusting back in. Your body shook as you felt him fuck you, his thrusts started to get faster the louder you moaned as if the sound of your cries edged him on, which was very much the case. You tightened around him, gasping as you felt his hand coming to rub against your clit, his rough thumb brushing the sensitive skin. 

“You sound so beautiful darling. Let me hear how you sound as you cum on my cock.” He purred in his ear. His voice sounded.. Different. Deeper somehow, more primal, needy. It drove you wild. You moaned gasping as you moved your body against him, fucking yourself on his cock while he pressed his thumb against you. You felt the sensation take over your body as Sylus hit that spot inside you that made you cry out and see stars. Your orgasm flowed through you as your pussy fluttered and clenched around him, pushing him to the brink as he filled you with his hot cum. 

You caught your breath, your forehead sticky with sweat as you felt your body tremble from the release. Sylus on the other hand, was still inside you. Cock hard, twitching as if he didn't just cum inside you. His hands gripped your hips, his lips moving to your back as he kissed your sweaty skin. You could hear his heart pounding, as fast as ever. 

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetie. That was a warmup.” He said as he started to thrust again, slowly at first. Your body shivered and moaned at the sudden movement, sensitive from your orgasm as he stated to fuck you. You felt his cum inside you, being fucked deeper. You blushed gasping, your head spinning with pleasure. 

As he fucked you, you swore his hands on your hips felt larger. His nails were digging into your skin as if they were talons. Not cutting into you, but more noticeable than before. You gasped, your mouth opening against the pillow, eyes widening as you whimpered. 

“Sylus!” You cried out as you felt your pussy stretch more than before. You felt his cock, which was already big and thick, get even bigger. The girth stretching you out more to the point your legs were shaking. You felt him hit places inside you you didn't even know existed. You felt tears fall from your eyes, sure it hurt a little but god you never felt so good in your life. You felt his tongue lick up your spine, long, thick. His mouth moved to your ear, sharp teeth nipping the skin. You could hear your heart pound. What was he? How did he become… like this? 

“Wow kitten, you took me so well.” Sylus purred. He wasn’t even moving yet and you were a whimpering crying mess. “I bet you love being stretched out on my cock like this, don’t you? I’m not even moving and it feels like you’re about to cum again.” He teased as you felt a rough, larger than normal thumb brush against your clit. “Careful, if you do, you might boost my ego. I could get addicted to this.”

Your head spun as you whimpered and moaned. You couldn’t see him. Even if you tried to turn, he was pressed against your back. But he wasn’t wrong. You were close. So agonizingly close that when he touched his thumb to that damn spot between your legs it was instant. You cried out, clenching around him and he hissed at the feeling. His cock twitched inside you as he felt you cum on his cock from nothing more than just being inside you. Filling you up completely. Stretching you to your limit to the point you weren’t sure if you’d be able to walk later. 

“Good girl. You’ve been such a good girl for me, haven’t you?” Sylus purred into your ear as he started to move. Your eyes widened as you cried out, hands clawing at the bedsheets as you felt how massive he truly had become now that he started moving. Your legs shook as you struggled to keep yourself propped up on your knees. His hands came to grab your hips as you whimpered and moaned mindlessly into the pillow. His hands felt so big, so strong. He had always been strong but this was different, otherworldly. He held you exactly how and where he wanted you as he began to fuck into you. Your body bounced and shook as if you were a ragdoll. 

“That’s it, sweetie, just like that. You’re a perfect little slut for me, aren’t you. Taking anything I give you, no matter how big. You’ll stretch your tight little pussy for me, won’t you?” Sylus growled in your ear and you gasped, eyes rolling back at his words. You couldn’t control the sounds coming from your lips, or the drool that spilled out onto the silk pillowcase. You couldn’t stop the loud needy whimper at the things he said to you. His nails pressed into your soft flesh as he continued to ravish you. 

His thrusts started to get unsteady as he panted, one hand groping your ass as the other curled into your hair, turning your face for him to kiss you. His long tongue forced its way into your mouth, his teeth were sharper but it felt more like fangs now that you could feel him better. You opened your eyes for a second, catching a glimpse to see that he looked normal. As he pulled away and opened his eyes though, you noticed how both eyes were glowing red. It looked like orbs of the red mist of his Evol flowing inside his eyes. It was beautiful. If you weren’t getting your brains fucked out you would have more time to appreciate it. 

The hand returned between your thighs, drawing circles against your sensitive nub. As he felt you twitch and whimper, his hand continued until he pulled another orgasm out of you. Your scream was muffled by the pillow but the sound made him take in a sharp breath. Even when he was like this, the sounds you made affected him more than you could ever know. You felt as his cock twitched, his thrusted uneven before he came inside you. The feeling was different than before. It was thicker and it felt like there was more than usual. You gasped, moaning as you felt him thrust a few more times, the thick globs of cum running down your thighs. 

Slowly, you felt him begin to pull out. Your body was too weak and tired to turn around and look at him but that was the last thing on your mind right now. You didn’t care what form he took. He was still yours. And you were still his. You felt him shift around you, his arms pulling you into his chest as he kissed your head. The smell of him flooded your senses as a sense of calm you never felt before came over you. 

His hands were so gentle as he carefully checked for marks and scratches. You felt a warm cloth on your thighs. A cold bottle of water pressed to your lips. You opened your mouth and the bottle tipped so gently. His hands were still on you, gently touching and caressing you. As you opened your eyes gently you saw the oh so familiar black and red mist surrounding you. Cleaning you, giving you water. You felt a kiss on the top of your head as Sylus pulled you closer. 

“Relax, kitten. You’ll need to recover. I’ll take care of everything.”

~•~•~•~

some people on my post asked to be tagged or really seemed to want this so here u guys go i hope you dont mind the tag

@lunacielooo @in-too-deepspace @sefynarose

[rafecameronssl4t]

First Impressions || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: the meeting in which your parents announce your arranged marriage to Rafe.

Warnings: mention of smoking, not much else ???

Word count: 1,724

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

Your black Porsche roars down the gravel drive, tires screeching as they skid to a halt just in front of the grand entrance to your family estate. The car’s abrupt stop sends a shower of tiny stones in every direction, the sound cutting through the quiet morning.

With a sigh, you push open the door and step out, the morning air crisp against your skin. Taking one last drag from your cigarette, you savour the moment before dropping it to the ground, the glowing ember snuffed out beneath the heel of your designer shoe.

A quick glance at your watch—10:20am. Twenty minutes late. You were supposed to be here on time, but the delay feels inevitable. With a flicker of annoyance, you brush a strand of hair from your face and stride toward the front door, where the familiar figure of your family’s butler awaits.

“Miss Y/n, it’s good to see you again,” he greets you with a warm smile, the lines of age deepening around his eyes. “Likewise,” you respond, managing a small smile in return. The butler steps aside and opens the door, allowing you to enter the cool, polished interior.

Your heels click sharply against the marble floor as you make your way toward the formal dining room, each step echoing in the vast, silent hall. As you approach the double doors, two servants stand ready, pulling them open to reveal the scene inside.

Your parents sit at the table, their expressions betraying nothing as they notice your arrival. Alongside them are three unfamiliar figures, their backs turned to you, leaving you momentarily confused as to who they were. You exhale softly, bracing yourself, and walk into the room.

“Pleasure to have you finally arrive,” your mother remarks, her voice edged with a tight-lipped grin. Your father doesn’t even glance your way, his attention fixed elsewhere. With a deliberate movement, you stride to the table, tossing your Lady Dior bag onto the polished surface with a loud clatter.

“The pleasure is all mine, mother,” you reply, your voice thick with restrained anger as you take your seat. Finally, your gaze falls on the three guests seated before you—the Camerons. Your eyes land on Rafe, and for a moment, you’re taken aback.

He looks different, more rugged, with his hair shaved off, giving him a harder, more defined look. His eyes, however, remain downcast, focused on the table as if he’s avoiding meeting your gaze. “My, how beautiful you have gotten, my dear,” Ward Cameron’s voice breaks through the tension, drawing your attention to him as he regards you with a smile.

You force a smile in response to Ward’s compliment, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Cameron,” you reply, keeping your tone polite but distant. The tension in the room is palpable, every gesture, every word carefully measured. Your mother’s gaze flickers between you and Rafe, a subtle hint of expectation in her eyes, while your father remains silent, his face a mask of indifference.

As you settle into your seat, the silence stretches, heavy and uncomfortable. You feel the weight of the moment pressing down on you, the unspoken purpose of this meeting hanging in the air like a storm cloud. The Camerons, your parents, Rafe—all of them waiting for something, though none are willing to break the silence.

Finally, your mother clears her throat, her voice cutting through the quiet. “We thought it was time for you to meet again,” she begins, her tone carefully neutral. “It’s been a while since you’ve seen each other, and given the circumstances, we felt it was appropriate to… reconnect.”

You glance at Rafe, his eyes still fixed on the table. The last time you saw him, things were different—less complicated, less strained. But now, the distance between you feels like a chasm, impossible to bridge. You wonder if he feels it too, this cold, empty space that has grown between you.

“I suppose it’s been a long time,” you murmur, more to yourself than anyone else. The words hang in the air, unanswered, as you try to find something—anything—to say that might ease the tension. Ward shifts in his seat, his gaze settling on you with a calculating intensity.

“Rafe has been doing well,” he says, as if the words are meant to reassure you, though they have the opposite effect. “He’s matured a great deal since you last saw him.” At this, Rafe finally looks up, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since you walked into the room. There’s something in his expression—an apology, perhaps, or maybe just regret—but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the same distant, unreadable look he’s worn since you arrived.

“And you, Miss Y/n,” Ward continues, his tone smooth, almost too smooth. “I trust you’ve been well?” You nod, forcing another smile. “Yes, quite well, thank you.” The words feel hollow, a formality that barely covers the unease simmering beneath the surface.

Your mother, sensing the need to steer the conversation, jumps in. “We’ve been discussing some… arrangements,” she says, her voice careful, as if she’s choosing each word with precision. “Given the history between our families, we thought it best to ensure that both sides are… satisfied with the outcome.”

Your heart sinks as the true purpose of this meeting becomes clear. This isn’t just a casual reunion or an attempt to reconnect old acquaintances. This is a negotiation, a transaction between two powerful families, and you and Rafe are the bargaining chips.

You glance at Rafe again, searching his face for any sign of how he feels about this, but his expression remains guarded. Whatever thoughts are running through his mind, he’s keeping them well hidden. Your father finally speaks, his voice low and authoritative.

“This is an important moment for both of our families. I trust you both understand the gravity of the situation.” The weight of his words settles over you, a cold, heavy pressure that makes it hard to breathe. You want to protest, to argue that this isn’t what you want, that it isn’t fair to either of you—but you know it would be pointless. In this world, duty and obligation come before personal desires.

Rafe’s voice cuts through your thoughts, quiet but steady. “We understand,” he says, his tone betraying nothing of what he might actually be feeling. Your mother smiles, a thin, satisfied smile. The silence in the room grows heavier as your father's words sink in, confirming what you’ve both known was coming.

This is more than just a meeting; it’s the formal beginning of the arrangement that has been hanging over you for months. The marriage. The merging of your two families. You glance at Rafe, catching the flicker of frustration in his eyes before he looks away, jaw tightening in silent protest. It’s clear he’s not happy about this, and a part of you understands his reluctance.

But for you, there’s no surprise, no anger—just a deep, overwhelming numbness. This is what your life was always meant to be: a marriage arranged for the benefit of your family, a union to produce heirs, to continue the legacy. There was never any illusion of choice.

As your mother and Ward exchange pleasantries, discussing the finer details of the arrangement, you find yourself tuning out, your gaze drifting to the large windows that overlook the manicured gardens outside. The sunlight streaming in feels distant, cold.

Rafe shifts in his seat beside you, the movement drawing your attention back to the table. His expression is tense, a mixture of resignation and barely concealed resentment. He doesn’t want this—at least, not like this—but he’s trapped in the same web of expectations that binds you.

Your father’s voice breaks through your thoughts, stern and final. “The wedding will take place in two months. The arrangements have already begun.” Two months. The words hang in the air, sealing your fate. You glance at Rafe again, hoping for some sign of how he’s processing this, but his face is unreadable, the brief glimpse of frustration now replaced by a mask of indifference.

For a moment, you wonder what he’s thinking—whether he’s angry, scared, or just as numb as you are. But you quickly push the thought aside. It doesn’t matter how either of you feel. This is what you were born for, raised for. This is your duty.

“We’ll be ready,” Rafe finally says, his voice clipped and devoid of emotion. It’s a statement of fact, not a promise, and you feel the weight of it settle over you like a shroud. Your mother nods approvingly, while Ward offers a pleased smile. “I’m sure you will be,” he replies, as if Rafe’s compliance is exactly what he expected.

The conversation shifts to practicalities—guest lists, venues, and dates—but it all feels distant to you, like watching a play from behind thick glass. You nod and smile at the appropriate moments, playing the part you’ve been trained for your entire life, but inside, there’s only emptiness. This marriage, this life, was decided long before you had a say in it.

When the meeting finally ends, and the Camerons prepare to leave, Rafe stands, his movements slow and deliberate. For a moment, his eyes meet yours, and in them, you see a flicker of something—anger, perhaps, or maybe just resignation. But just as quickly, it’s gone, replaced by the same cold detachment you’ve come to expect.

Ward clasps your father’s hand in a firm handshake. “We look forward to the wedding,” he says, his tone full of false warmth. “Likewise,” your father replies, though his eyes remain hard. As the Camerons depart, leaving you and your parents alone in the dining room, you feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you.

The future, once a distant inevitability, now looms as a stark reality—a reality you must face with Rafe by your side, whether you want to or not. The weight of it settles over you like a suffocating blanket, each breath growing heavier as the room seems to close in around you.

Your mother’s voice slices through the thick silence, her tone sharp and unforgiving. "How many times must I remind you to break that wretched habit of smoking?" Her eyes narrow in disapproval, her gaze like a blade that cuts through any pretense of warmth. You feel the familiar irritation rise within you, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at her constant nagging.

"I could smell it the moment you walked in, and I’m certain the Camerons did as well," she continues, her words dripping with disdain as she takes a deliberate sip of her drink. The crystal glass clinks against her teeth, a harsh sound that echoes in the tense air. You lower your gaze to your lap, your fingers twisting together in a futile attempt to keep your composure.

The reprimand feels like a ritual by now, one you’ve endured countless times, yet it never fails to sting. Your father’s voice cuts through the tension, sharp and unyielding. "Such behavior will not be tolerated once you're married," he declares, his tone cold and final. "Respectable young women preparing to have a family do not indulge in such habits."

His words hit you like a slap, a stark reminder of the life being imposed upon you—one where even your small rebellions are to be eradicated. Your father stands, his movements deliberate and composed as he smooths down his blazer. He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, his tone firm and unyielding. "Yes, Father," you reply quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper as you sit there, trying to disappear into the chair.

Your parents leave without another word, their footsteps echoing in the empty room, leaving you alone in the suffocating silence. The echo of their disapproval lingers, mixing with the cold reality of your future, a future where even your small, defiant pleasures are not your own.

You sit there for a long moment, the weight of it all pressing down on you until it feels as though you might break under the strain. But you don’t. Instead, you swallow the bitterness, pushing it deep down where it festers quietly. This is your life now, the one you were born into, the one you must live whether you want to or not.

[romcomeon]

「 ꨄ︎ 」 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐄 .ᐟ

⁀➴ humans were much more fragile than he thought.

⋮ NOTE DETAILS — mammon x gn!mc. careless scars. wc ≈ 1K .ᐟ

"What's.. I... how do ya even injure yourself like THIS!?"

"I... don't know...?"

You gave an awkward smile. Eyes shaking from what remained of the adrenaline rush, your hands resting atop your stomach while you lie down on the couch.

"Oh for fuck's sake, treasure," Mammon cursed, removing his sunglasses as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Seriously, you barely even started your day. There you were: bedridden and partly immobile, with every sway of your leg hurting a tad more than the last.

Not that you can say anything, but it was a careless accident.

...

It was more careless than it was accidental. The shelves within the grand library at the House of Lamentation were far beyond your reach. By genius design, you had no choice but to use the dark spook tree ladder that was left isolated to the corner shelves.

You could try to use magic, though you are unfamiliar with the general book's looks, for you only knew the title and the name of the author. 'course you also had the option to ask Satan for guidance, but the blonde had whisked himself away to the barricaded doors of the attic --- who knew what he and the youngest had planned for their measly prank.

And who knew how slippery unattended furniture can get.

You have not a choice: by deduction, the best course of action was to use the ladder and manually look for it yourself.

With the success of finding the book, surely a long, carpentered, intricately designed slab of wood wouldn't betray you. Now would it?

The first step downward was manageable.

The second step caused the old ladder to wobble, near stumbling back to the floor; yet otherwise stood still as you maintained balance.

As the third step came, as if by some imaginary liquid, you missed. You lost your grip.

There you came tumbling down with the sharp wooden edges grazing against your leg. And then you landed on the floor, upright, yes, but your left leg stuck against the fifth to the last step.

Your leg a swollen red, a long scratch from your ankle stretched upward towards the lower knee - where blood dripped down the open scar.

"Shhh...f-" you hissed, taking your leg off the ladder and- oh. You might've misplaced a bone there. You had to drag your leg up to a nearby couch, taking sharp deep breaths to take your mind off the pain.

...

So that was the story. When you told Mammon the first time, he gave you a dumbfounded look. Nonetheless, when he found you, he was worried as hell.

Beyond the grave.

But the golden boy had to rush and rummage through every cabinet to find the human-safe emergency kit. You admit, it was adorable watching him slip from his "superiority" facade.

Ahhhh.. your train of thought came to a halt at the stinging sensation. Causing your leg to jerk up, but Mammon held it down by the knee.

"Aye- Don't move," he said, while he tried to gently disinfect the scar with the isopropyl alcohol. Not a sensation you weren't familiar with, but god it burns.

"I'm sorry, but, could you please go a little faster?"

"Ya sure, human?" he scoffed. His finger traced along the long bump of the scratch, watching the skin scorch crimson before he shook his head. "Nuh uh."

You tilt your head up to get a better look at your golden boy, raising a brow. "What do you mean 'nuh uh'?"

"Ain't no way I'm leavin' ya alone after pullin' that stunt."

"It's just once!" You raised your hands in feigned surrender. "I'll be careful next time."

Mammon huffed his cheeks in a pout, grabbing the wool bandage off the red box. Carefully wrapping it around your calf, careful not to put too much pressure on your shin, lest you kick his face.

"Bullshit," he muttered. There were more words said, yet you couldn't seem to make them out. His usual voice in an ever soft tone: slurred words that only he could comprehend.

You did manage to catch a string of words. "not on my fuckin' watch you aren't" while he tries to fix the jumbled up bandage.

Seriously, it looked good but tying it together had always been a challenge. After all, the great avatar of greed was more known for breaking things unloose, not putting them back together.

He tried. Mammon tried. Not the best of the best, but Mammon tried his best.

You can't help but give a soft smile, watching him mumble curses as he finally figured out how to tidy up the loose ends: finding the metallic clip and pinching it on there in hopes that it sticks.

He lifts his gaze one more time to meet yours. This time, Mammon was the one raising his brow. Looking annoyed, but his intrigue was betrayed by the curious glint of his tinted sapphire eyes.

"Whatcha lookin' at me for?"

A small chuckle escaped your lips, tilting your head to the side. "Thank you."

Two words. Mammon scoffed, averting his gaze. "S-shut up. Of course ya should thank me!!" as by virtue it is a great honour to be served by the GREAT Mammon.

Though you lay there, smiling like an idiot in his eyes. How you're transfixed with the cherry red creeping up on his tan cheeks, how he subconsciously purse his lips, puffing his cheeks to not let his words betray him. How despite everything he says, he still works his way to tend to you.

To care for you. To love you.

Or to simply keep you company when no one else could. Honestly, it made the future all the less scary. The uncertainty is all the less terrifying. The possibility of your bones giving up just feels all the more natural than ill-driven.

While selfish, greedy to an extent, you figured worrying in the future might just be a hoax. A fantasy in your head.

They say to get your head out the gutter, yet you couldn't help but examine each worse case scenario.

And if it's with him to your aid? It will all feel right.

note.s : lesson learned, always watch your step when climbing down ladders.

check out my masterlist | divider by adornedwithlight

[babyleostuff]

˚ ༘♡ 𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨

― which members would be interested in watching their partner do their nail art/ ask questions and try to be involved in the process bc they're genuinely interested

joshua

because shua enjoys arts and crafts himself, he’s so so happy whenever he can watch you do your nails - it’s alway so much fun. actually, the second you say you need to do your nails, it’s joshua that drags you to the table and sits you on the chair and puts all of your tools, nail polishes, uv lamps in front of you. watching you do all of those crazy nail arts, there’s something soothing about it. and it never gets boring for you either, with joshua by your side - he will ask you about all of the details of why’s and how’s.

wonwoo

you could be doing or talking about whatever and wonwoo would still sit there and listen to you like a hypnotised man. bro is a simp and though usually he couldn't care less about nails and doing art on them or whatever, because it's YOU he’ll sit his ass down and watch every step of you doing your nails like it’s the most fascinating thing ever. wonwoo will ask about your nail polishes and why you have to apply this before that etc etc, not because he feels obligated to fill in the silence but because he’s genuinely interested. he loves listening to you talk about a subject that you’re so fond of. 

dk

please let him pick your nail polish colour!!! seokmin gets so giddy when you tell him that you have to do your nails, because that means he’ll get to spend at least three hours watching you and you won’t be able to do anything about it. he’s like a child that has to touch and ask about everything, so it’s kind of like entertaining a child, but you never mind him being so genuinely happy about you and your nail art. it’s cute how dk gets confused by certain steps, or why you have to do something this particular way etc. and he spends at least fifteen minutes after you finish, gushing about the beautiful designs you painted. 

mingyu

is he a six foot two giant or a princess? i guess the latter since he adores watching you do your nails so much and every time you do, gyu wants you to paint his nails too, at least one, but is too shy to ask. he always has to touch everything that’s laying on the table, so while you’re prepping your nails, he’s rummaging through all of your tools and asks what each of them is for. mingyu also gets so excited when you ask him if he could pass you *insert a nail tool* and he has to guess which one you’re talking about. 

minghao

i think it’s mainly because hao has done his nails before himself, he’d be eager to hear why you chose a certain design or why you put those particular charms on, you know - he likes knowing the reason behind something. and there’s something quite intimate about nails and nail art, he thinks, so getting to know the story behind your current set would be something very xu minghao.

seungkwan

one thing about seungkwan is that he loves being part of whatever you’re currently doing and making it the best time you’ve ever had. he lives for quality time with you, so it’s not a shocker that he enjoys watching you do your nails very much + a lot of the time he steals your nail polish and does his own nails at the same time you’re doing yours. you always have a blast laughing at his bad designs, and how he always manages to spill the nail polish over his cuticles and edges. boo gets so happy when you ask him about his thoughts on nail polish colours or which charms you should pick out and where to place them. no one could make doing nails as entertaining as boo seungkwan. 

vernon

vernon finds it so cool how you’re able to do all of these designs on your freaking nails of all places. he loves sitting by your side, not saying much in his vernon fashion, and following your every move from the beginning, when you prep your nail, to the moment when you’re attaching different charms or doing cool designs. it’s kind of hypnotising for vernon and he’s always able to relax and wind down when watching you do your nails. 

dino

are you kidding me? baby wants to be a part of everything you do. he is a puppy that follows your every step, so of course he loves watching you do your nails. it’s unbelievable to him how you’re able to paint on your nails AND make pretty designs on them and not just splotches of nail polish. he always talks your ear off about what tool does what, and why you do that before doing the other thing, etc etc, but gosh… it’s so endearing when he sits there with his sparkly eyes, looking at you like you’re the coolest person on earth   

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[chloeangelic]

the paper salesman

Brother's best friend!Jim Halpert x f!reader Rating: 18+ My masterlist I Max's masterlist

Summary: You spot your childhood crush at a birthday party and end up in his room together.

Warnings: Smut, AU where Pam does not exist, alcohol, oral (f receiving), handjob, semi protected PIV, creampie, squirting.

A/N: Well, well, well, if it isn't me and my froggy friend @macfrog back with another fic. But this time, it's not satire - this one is actually serious, and we are taking full advantage of everyone's teenage crush on season 2 Jim.

Word count: 6k

You pick at the edge of your wine glass, nodding along as the sound of your brother’s girlfriend talking about work turns into a low, buzzing sort of hum, indistinguishable from the other voices in the room. It seems that turning thirty was the catalyzing event for your older brother’s birthday parties to turn from all-nighters at clubs to barbecues at his new house. The attendance changed too — what used to be a crowd of girls in tight, short dresses has been replaced by a landscape of coworkers and childhood friends that he has reconnected with over the past year. 

There’s a couple people singing karaoke by the TV across the room, and although neither of them are singing in tune, you cheer them on as you half-heartedly listen to your future sister-in-law’s story. People are scattered around in groups of two, three, or four, chatting amongst themselves against the tapestry of multicolored string lights and framed photos. You can’t imagine your brother had much to do with the interior design choices, and assume Stacie took him to the department store and filled a shopping cart with lights and lamps and frames that would make the living space for two thirty-year-old men a little less bland and sterile. 

But still, despite the obvious decorative touch of Mark’s girlfriend around the room – you can’t help but wonder which parts were chosen by his roommate.

Jim Halpert – your brother’s best friend for as long as you can remember. Six-foot-something, polite and awkwardly charming. Lingering on your front steps to walk with Mark to school, backpack slung over one shoulder, or waiting patiently in the kitchen doorway while your brother finishes eating dinner, a basketball sat in the ‘c’ of his elbow. Making a whole lot of nothing conversation with your mom about school, about how his brothers were doing, growing bashful when she’d bring up girlfriends.

He’s five years older than you, but that ten-year-old ghost of yourself would sit twirling the fork in her fingers, mindlessly dragging mashed potato around her plate. Watching the way he’d toss the flicks of fringe from his eyes, cross one foot over the other as he answered every incessant question of your mother’s with the dutiful respect of a well-raised boy. Your crush was obvious back then, easily spotted by her whenever Jim stayed for dinner. You’d look away, bite back your smile and try to stifle your laugh at his jokes, hoping he wouldn’t notice. That little crush stayed with you, despite the boys you went on to date in high school, and the ones you slept with and tried to get serious with in college to no avail. Every time you came back from the holidays, Jim would inevitably show up for dinner one day, and you would revert back to that shy ten-year-old, sitting in the same seats as you did back then. 

You watched him become a man in front of your eyes, and by the time you started getting physical with your first boyfriend, little thoughts began to weasel themselves into your mind about Jim. It was entirely inappropriate, and that curiosity should have directed itself exclusively to the boy who had taken you out to the movies, to prom and to homecoming, but you wondered what Jim looked like shirtless, you wondered about his experience, about the size of his cock. One weekend in your freshman year of college, with nothing else to do but to visit your parents, you tagged along with Mark to his basketball game, and sat on the bleachers with your eyes glued to Jim, to the sweat that darkened his jersey and the undeniable bulge in his shorts. He came up to say hi after, his brown hair drenched with sweat as well, looking at you through stunning green eyes as he asked how school was going. You made him laugh with a story about a professor, and the sound of his chuckles echoed in your mind the rest of the night. He had moved out of his parents’ house by then, and started working as a salesman at a paper company in town. 

He still works there – as far as you know, at least, based on what he told you the last time you saw him, picking him and Mark up from their high school reunion two years back. 

Mark had drank a little too much and had needed Jim’s steady arm around his shoulder to direct him to your car. You swallowed down the butterflies which quickly took flight in your stomach as you watched the two figures stumble towards your Honda, the taller of the two lending you a small smile as he slotted your brother into the front seat. You kept your composure right up until he closed the front door, and then you sped all the way home with your heart racing and your blood pumping.

“Some people are just allergic to receiving help,” Stacie announces, yelling a little over the screeching of the karaoke mics. She’s rambling to one of Mark’s coworkers – Hal? Sal? – about one of her co-workers, some new kid fresh from college who can’t work the printer by himself and refuses to let her show him.

You’re about to get up for a refill when a weight slides onto the couch by your side, nudging you with a sweatered elbow.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he mutters, and when you turn, your breath catches at the sight of those familiar green eyes and flicks of brown hair.

“Hey,” you reply, fingers awkwardly lifting to tuck some hair behind your ear. You feel a heat flush into your cheeks and pray it doesn’t show in an embarrassing dewy glow to Jim. “Cool party. Karaoke’s a nice touch.”

“Eh,” he shrugs, giving you his signature smirk. His voice is so deep, a little husky even, as he sits close, “It’s an easy way to keep the guests entertained without me having to do much of anything, or your brother, for that matter.” 

You hum in response, reluctantly annoyed that Mark is already at the front of his mind when he sees you. “Are you still working that paper job?”, you ask, raising an eyebrow and hoping that your nerves don’t come across, that he’ll simply consider you as flirty to everyone if your attempts don’t land.  

“Yeah,” he says, nodding, picking at the label of his beer bottle for a moment. 

“Salesman of the year?” 

“Well,” he chuckles, his head tilting to the side, a little unsure, “Maybe sometimes.” Is he embarrassed? Shy? You watch his eyes as they flicker up and scan the room. “What are you up to these days?”, he asks when his eyes land back on you, flaring open for a split second before they settle on yours. 

“You know,” you shrug, eyes looping once around the room, “Working, the usual.” You feel your chest tighten with an urge to come up with something more fucking interesting than work. Your fingers hooked behind your ear again, you sputter, “Got my hair done last week.”

Jim smiles, reassuringly so. “Yeah,” he says, nodding, “I can tell. It looks good. I like the, uh –”, he points a little haphazardly, “The way you styled it. Suits you.”

“Thanks,” your cheeks swell in a genuine smile, averting his gaze as the compliment seeps into your skin. You twirl the stem of your glass in your fingers, and Jim knocks a knuckle against the rim.

“You need a top up?”, he asks, standing up.

“Yeah, actually,” you reply, taking his hand when he offers it and pulling yourself to your feet.

You follow him through to the kitchen, dodging the erratic arm movements of some guy chittering to Mark about stocks, and over to the fridge. You lean your hip against the counter, watching as Jim carefully refills your wine and slides it back across to you.

You take a tentative sip under his watchful gaze, and raise your eyebrows, nodding subtly in approval as you swallow, “This is pretty good. What’s a guy like you doing with decent wine in his fridge?” 

He lets out a nervous laugh and looks around, takes a sip of the glass he poured himself. “I actually got it for a, uh- a date, a couple weeks ago,” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks, looking out through the dining room, “She said it was good so I figured I’d get some for tonight.” 

Oof. A tinge of jealousy makes your stomach curl, and you take another large sip, forcing it down as you think of what to say. You can still hear the out of tune melodies from the living room, though the silence between you and Jim drowns out the noise. “What did you do?”, you ask, hoping you can mask your jealousy with a sneaky tone. 

“Took her to dinner a few times, walked around a bit, came back here and had some wine.”

You want to gag, just a little bit. “And how come she’s not here tonight then?”

“Didn’t really, uh– didn’t really work out, so…” 

“So you’re just sitting here day in and day out with her wine in the fridge, waiting for her to come back?” 

Jim breathes a laugh, pushing the air from his cheeks, “Alright. Wow. That one stung.”

You giggle, taking a step closer, “I’m just messing with you,” you say into your glass. Each splash of alcohol over your tongue filling you with more courage.

He tilts his head, eyebrows cocked, “Tell me about your love life, then, up on your high horse.”

You stifle another girlish giggle, using it to mask your reaction to the awkward question. Your love life – if you could even call it that – has been even more miserable than Jim’s sounds. Messages left on read, painful first dates with jocks still stuck in their high school eras, with uptight career men who only cared to talk about themselves, or with guys who had weird hobbies and left you to pay the bill for a date they asked you on.

You’ve gotten good at avoiding the topic with your mom, turning it instead into conversation about Mark and Stacie, framing it into a question of, When are they thinking of getting married? Having kids of their own, right, Mom?, but standing in front of the one guy you’ve been shamelessly crushing on since you were ten years old – it becomes a little harder to divert.

“Uh,” you mumble, the rim of your glass balanced on your bottom lip, “I’m – I’m just taking some time to myself right now, you know? Focusing on me.”

He grins, almost gleeful. Electricity pulses through your veins. “Nice save,” he tells you, tipping his glass towards you, “I hear what you’re really saying.”

“Oh?” 

“Yep,” he says, matter-of-factly, “You also got dumped at Red Lobster.”

You snort, then apologize, closing your eyes and trying to stifle your grin as you try to collect yourself. “Red lobster,” you clear your throat, “That’s pretty bad. At least it wasn’t Chili’s. And I would know, cause I got dumped at Chili’s.” 

The two of you keep it together for a few moments, looking at the floor, until you meet each other’s eyes and burst into laughter, having this absolutely pathetic little thing in common. The sound of his laugh makes your chest flutter, the sight of his smile and his hand running through his hair. He wipes the tears from his eyes as he looks at you, and you bite the tip of your tongue, trying to halt the uncontrollable giggles that make your stomach hurt. 

When you’re composed, a couple more swigs of wine down your throat, you settle back against the counter and say, “So. When’s the tour leaving?”

Jim’s eyebrows lift, “The tour?”

You nod, “House tour. Mark hasn’t shown me around yet. The most I’ve seen is your downstairs bathroom.”

He scoffs. Pushes off from the counter, the wine in his glass splashing, “He’s a terrible host. C’mon, I’ll show you around.”

Your heels click along the tile floor as you squeeze between bodies, heading for the hallway where Jim pauses. “Bathroom,” he says, nodding to the door right by the stairs, “But you already knew that.” He steps back against the wall at the first step, holding a hand out to usher you up first. “Ladies first,” he says, smiling genially.

You snort, but waltz by his body, holding onto the handrail as you climb the stairs carefully, the alcohol mixed with your shoe choice making it a dangerous feat. Jim’s close behind, footsteps slowly echoing your own, and you can’t help but think of the tight, short skirt of your dress, the way it hugs your thighs, the placement of his gaze as he wanders up behind you.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you look around at the assortment of doors, waiting for Jim to tell you which room serves as the first stop. You can sense him right behind you, slightly to your side, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him looking down at you, swallowing slowly. “Mark’s room,” he says, nodding to the right and waiting until you look up at him before he takes a step over and opens the door. He lets you peek inside, look around until you nod and step back, before he urges you forward, towards another door. 

“Upstairs bathroom,” he remarks, and you give the room a similar examination, noticing the streak-free mirror. 

“Looks… clean,” you say, as if there’s anything better to say about a typical bathroom. He gives a muttered thanks in return, then points to the last door. 

“And that’s my room.” 

“May I?”, you grin, then step fully inside, looking around at his bed, his dresser, and finally, his desk. You sit down in the office chair and give it a test spin, before your attention is caught by the art on the wall. “What’s this?”, you ask, while he steps in as well, hesitating for a second as he looks at the door, opting to leave it open before he comes over and sits down on his bed. 

Jim’s head wobbles as he searches for an answer. “It’s – well, it’s – you know. It’s…a print that I…liked.”

“You have no idea, do you?”

“Not a clue,” he responds, quick as a bullet. “I saw it at a yard sale – thought it went with the colors of my bedsheets. That’s how interior design works, right?”

You smile, “Sure. You’re no Stacie, but – sure.”

Jim nods. Your eye is drawn to the dip in the bed where he sits, the weight of his wide frame on the mattress. His open thighs, his elbows resting on his knees, wine swirling as he slowly rocks the glass. He slowly lifts it to his lips, taking a sip without breaking your stare.

You cross your legs by instinct. Your skirt rides a little higher. Jim glances down, and then straight back up. You can feel your blood thrumming through every limb, every part of your body sensitized and alight. It doesn’t help any when he stands from the bed and wanders over, towering over you as he looks at something on the desk.

He reaches over your shoulder, and you can smell his cologne on his sweater, sharp and fresh, a hint of something sweeter. He pulls a photo frame from the shelf behind you and turns it around.

“Graduation,” he says, and your eyes are drawn down to the cheesy grins of him and your brother, donned in black mortarboards and sweeping gowns.

You nod, pretending you’re paying attention. But he’s so close that his jeans rub against your bare legs, so close that you’re staring up just to meet his eye. Your palms begin to perspire, his voice turning into a blur as he points to a couple other frames, photos of people you didn’t recognize in places you couldn’t quite place. The rest of your wine is downed in a single sip, the glass carefully placed behind you, on the surface of his desk. 

Jim seems to have finished recounting memories to you, but he doesn’t move. Stays stood over you, his own drink forgotten on the floor by his bed. A silence falls between you – but not the thick, awkward kind of silence you’re used to around guys. It’s lighter, it’s breathable. It swirls around your limbs like the fluttering feeling in your belly, wraps tightly around them and pushes you to your feet, the back of Jim’s chair rocking against his desk.

You’re eye-to-eye, your chest pushing gently against his. He glances down to your lips, wet with wine and the dabbing of your tongue, and then back up. He leans in, curving around your shoulders to set the photo frame still in his hand back on the desk. When he straightens up again, your hands find his chest.

You stare at one another, seemingly a thousand words exchanged between your soft, drunken gaze and his – and yet, none of them pass your lips. There’s a weight on your waist – Jim’s hands either side of your body, squeezing the tight fabric of your dress. You tilt your head, moving closer, lips parting. And he leans in.

He kisses you, slow at first. Your hands lift to cup his jaw, steady yourself on the weight of him. All of your past selves begin to bubble to the surface, each one lighting your skin, pulling on every nerve. Jim feels warm, his lips wet and sweet from the alcohol. Your nails sift through his hair, tugging gently as he pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth. He groans lightly, seemingly as hungry for you as you are for him, holding himself back, handling you with a care and gentleness you hope he might set aside. You’ve wanted him for so long and you’ll let him do anything, you want all of him, you want him to ravage you and fuck you until you stumble down the staircase and until you can never look your brother in the eyes. 

There’s a smashing sound from downstairs and a squeal, followed by a chorus of disappointment from the other guests. It splits the two of you apart, bumping teeth as your lips disconnect. You’re both panting, hot breath occupying the space between you. You can feel the hardness of his bulge pushing against you, and your arousal building, spreading to the tips of your breasts as your nipples harden. He’s huge, you can already tell, and you swallow around a lump in your throat, trying not to think of how long it’s been since you felt a man inside of you. 

Jim smiles, still holding you close to his body. Your hands wrap around his wrists, and you lean into him again to whisper, “I think we should close the door.”

He nods, and steps back to let you by. You close the door slowly, letting it thud into place as quiet as you can, despite the obvious chaos happening downstairs. When you step back towards him, his eyes are on yours, hands reaching out to pull you closer, one around your waist and one around the nape of your neck, letting you melt into his hold while he locks his lips with yours. You hope he can’t feel the rapid beating of your heart or the dampness of your skin, letting your hands fall to the edge of his pants and starting to fumble with the button. 

You start to unzip his jeans while he walks you back towards his bed, licking into your mouth and nibbling on your lower lip. You slip a hand down over his clothed cock, carefully palming it and feeling the girth and contours against your skin. He lets out a slight grunt at your touch, moving his hand down to squeeze your ass cheek through your dress, his large hand grabbing your flesh and kneading it with the aggression you’ve been hoping for, just a hint of it coming through in the firmness of his grasp. 

He reaches the bed as you draw your hand out of his pants and dip your fingers behind his waistband, feeling the goosebumps spreading across his skin, grabbing hold of the stretchy fabric and lifting it up, over his erection, pulling it down alongside his pants to see his cock hanging free, flushed and wet at the tip. You bite his lip before you pull back to look, and can’t help a whimper escaping your throat as you brush your fingertips along his length. It feels endless, long veins bulging out that you trace with your nails. He's so thick, wide at the root, all the way to the tip. He can't possibly fit inside but you clench at the thought of him trying. Another pearly bead of precome spills out from his slit at your touch, and with his hands still grasping your neck and the meat of your ass, you gently rub the pad of your thumb over this head, feeling the slick slide of his spend beneath your finger, then wrap your hand around him, fingertips not even close to meeting, and stroke him slowly.

Your breaths are shallow, rapid, and when you feel your mouth start to water at the sight of his cock sliding through your hand, Jim pulls you back in to kiss you, grunting and groaning while your hand slides rhythmically up and down, making him throb with arousal. He moves his hips, fucking into your grasp with hushed moans that send your head spinning, your cunt pulsing.

Jim begins to peel the dress from your shoulders, slipping the fabric down until your breasts are exposed, the chilly edge of the air hardening your nipple. He pauses, watches the rhythmic movements of your soft, supple tits as your hand pumps up and down, the rise and fall of your chest with each breath. His fingers dig deep beneath the ruffled fabric, tugging it lower and lower until he’s lifting your hips, disturbing the lace of your panties as he discards the dress to the floor.

You pause as he strips the sweater from his shoulders, tossing it to some corner of the room before he’s back on you, the slick tip of his dick leaving sticky trails on your lower stomach.

“You’re so, so good at that,” he murmurs against your lips, sentence broken in two by another hot, wet kiss. Your eyes roll at the taste of him, the strength of his tongue against yours, the hunger with which he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and sucks, letting it go only to fill your mouth with himself again. You push at the edge of his jeans and boxers, bunching them up in your hands and tugging at them until he takes over, bringing you with him while he takes them off, leaving him bare and you in only your little scrap of fabric you call your panties. 

He pulls you in as he sits down on the bed, placing you on his lap, letting you wind your hips, dragging the silky lace of your thong up along his hard length while you lick across his tongue, while you swallow his saliva and feel the ridges of his cock bumping against your clit. At the sound of your whimpers, he picks you up in his arms, lays you down on his bed, and settles between your legs, leaving wet kisses up and down your neck, trailing down to your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth and licking it slowly. Your back arches, the slick of your arousal beginning to seep out into the panties he teases with his fingers, hooking them under the thin straps and slowly pulling at them as his lips trail down between your tits, slowly over your stomach, reaching the very top of your mound before he drags the straps over your thighs to reveal you for him. 

You open your legs and Jim presses into the underside of your thighs, pushing them wider. His eyes focus on the sight of you, spread open in front of him, his tongue lifting to run along his lips. You sit up on your elbows, glossy eyes watching as he leans in, a trail of kisses dotted along the seam of your thigh, until his lips are hovering over your throbbing cunt.

“Jim,” you whisper, sifting your fingers through his hair, moving it from his face.

He looks up and you share a glance, a message sent wordlessly from your eyes to his. A smirk pulls across his lips, reading your mind instantly. He lowers his jaw and his tongue drags a long, soaking stripe up your slit.

Your grip tightens in his hair, head thrown back to the blue sheets. Your throat catches a lewd moan before it has a chance to cut through the air, exposing you both to the guests downstairs. Sorry, you whisper, but he shakes his head. “You don't have to be quiet,” he reassures, leaving his gaze on you as he leans back and gives your clit a few wet licks, kicking up your sensitivity and making you clench. He must be able to tell, because just as you tilt your head back into the pillow while he kisses and licks at the part of you most sensitive and needy for his attention, he pushes two fingers into your pussy, stretching you gently as he curls them. He presses into a spot so tender you can't catch the moans spilling out between your lips, begging for more when you're already so close, having fantasized about this for years – his tongue on your clit and his fingers inside of you, softening you for the inevitable stretch of his cock, so much thicker and longer than you could imagine, big and hard and bound to let you feel him tomorrow.

He begins to suckle, swirling his tongue until you grip his hair and moan that you're close, so close, and he releases you from his mouth, still sliding his fingers slowly in and out, moving to place kisses to the inside of your thigh. You let out a huff, and hear a faint chuckle from between your legs, licking and kissing at your skin, right beside your outer folds, close to where you need him. 

Another wave of arousal crashes through you when he makes contact with your clit again, a wet drag of his tongue making you whimper and pull at his hair harder, trying to keep him right where he is until he lets you come. Jim pulls around your clit, lips sucking and tongue flicking as his fingers pump in and out, winding your orgasm like the tide withdrawing, only to let it crash forward in a flood of pleasure.

Your back arches, breath freezes to nothing in your throat until your climax passes, washing over you in heavy, shuddering ripples. You pant, your chest heaving as you look down at the smile on his face, the evidence of your satisfaction glistening on his lips.

Jim pushes himself up from the mattress, knees planting firm between your open legs, fisting his cock over you. You blink the room back into focus slowly, feeling the bed dip by your ear. He settles on top of you, looking down to guide his cock to your needy and spent sex. His tip presses against your hole, sensitive and soaking, and he glances back up. 

“Jim?”, you whisper, chest heaving when you feel the subtle intrusion at your opening.

“Yeah?”

“I want you inside me, I want you to fuck me.” 

Mhmm, he teases the tip around your entrance, lets the thick head of him slide up to your clit before he glides back down, gently pushing in, a tiny little bit of pressure, not enough to make you wince but groan instead, hating and loving how he teases you. Another push, his tip lodged inside, stretching you open further than you thought possible, while your pussy drools down his shaft, sucking him in and covering him in your wetness. He grunts quietly, not immune to the wet, warm clutch he’s sinking into, inch by inch, while you wrap your hands around his jaw, looking into his bright green eyes, lids hooded, breaking the eye contact to glance down at where he enters you, letting out a breathy moan when you suck him all the way in and he reaches your cervix. He hisses when he retracts, gliding out so slowly, covered in your shiny slick. 

You arch your back when he reaches the end of you again, leaning down onto his elbows so his lips can press into your neck, kissing you like he has all the time in the world, little licks to your skin while he glides out and presses back into you, letting you adjust to his size, making space for himself and soothing you as you’re overwhelmed by him. Your legs come to wrap around his waist, tilting your hips slightly upward to let him reach deeper, moaning his name and incoherent curses, grabbing the back of his neck and his broad shoulders, feeling your clit rub against his pelvis, bringing you closer so slowly you barely notice it happening. 

You lower your arms, slipping your hands under his and lacing your fingers. Your knees bend, resting against his ribcage. With each brush of his hair against your clit, he moves faster, thrusting harder, pushing deeper. Tiny yelps leave your mouth the more he fucks you, the more the bed rocks, the headboard knocking against the wall. Your head turns, moaning delicately into his ear as he sucks on your skin.

“I know,” he whispers against your pulse, “You feel so good, sweetheart. So tight around me.”

“Jim,” you’re whining, gasping for air each time he pushes all the way in. You let go of your grip on him and drape your arms over his shoulders, fingers toying with his hair, slowly dampening with sweat. Each glide of his cock inside you ends with a sweet bite of pain, his tip hammering roughly into the edge of your cunt.

His teeth graze the sensitive skin below your jaw, leaving behind marks you’re silently hoping will still be visible in the morning. His hands travel downward, taking hold of your waist and lifting you up to his body like you weigh nothing at all.

“Here,” he says, slipping out of you, thick white thread dribbling between your pussy and his cock. He motions for you to sit up, beckoning you with a flick of his fingers. “Come here, put your feet on my calves.” You oblige, planting each foot behind his thighs as he kneels. “Now lay down, just relax,” he coos, wrapping both hands around your waist to pull you up into a bridge, letting you dip your shoulder blades onto the sheets. He lifts one hand away from your side and guides his cock back into you, giving a few slow strokes with his palm, pushing gently on your stomach. 

Then his hands grip your hips tightly, he pulls you back onto him and gives you a moment to stabilize before he fucks into you even deeper than before. Your tits slide up and down your chest with every single one of this deep thrusts, and you watch his eyes as they stay glued to your body, his mouth hanging open, panting, grunting, digging his fingers into your flesh, trying to hold back while you squirm and writhe, moaning and whimpering, not giving a fuck who might hear it, trying to keep his name out of your mouth in case someone needs to use the bathroom next door. 

He pounds into you, hitting the softest, most tender spot inside of your body, your head rolls back on his pillow, tiptoeing the line between pain and pleasure, feeling him in your stomach. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, fuck, fuck,” the words are forced out of you just as a warm stream of liquid squirts out of you, drenching his groin and making him groan. Your orgasm is so intense you nearly howl, feeling more and more of your arousal dripping down his shaft and spurting onto his pelvis, soaking the sheets beneath you, getting wet and sticky with your come and his sweat, watching his hair stick to his forehead while he continues to fuck you, needing every last drop of your climax. 

You’re fucking spent, but he won’t relent quite yet, flipping you over and onto all fours, yanking you back by your hips. He enters you from behind and you groan in satisfaction, needing him right there, just like that, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head. His hand twists in your hair, wrapping it around his palm and tugging at it while he grunts, rough and loud in your ear, nearly drowned out by the lewd smacking of your ass against his hips. 

Your hand dips between your legs, fingers rubbing messy circles around your swollen clit, thinking how many times you’ve dreamt of this exact scenario with your fingers buried inside, bringing yourself to the brink of orgasm by the mere thought of Jim. And now, feeling him, the tug on your hair, the ache between your legs, the hoarse cries jumping from your throat.

“Not gonna last much longer,” Jim grunts, wet slaps cutting between his words, “Fuck, sweetheart, that feel good?”

“Yes, Jim,” you whine, your hand jerking with each meeting of his hips on your ass. Come dribbles down the seam of your thigh as you feel your second high begin to wind, white heat flooding downwards. “So – fucking – good. Ah, I want you to come inside me.”

“You sure?”, he pants, holding on by a thread. 

“Yeah, I – I’m on the pill.” 

Jim pulls you upright by the hair, flush against his stomach, and places his hand over yours to rub your clit together. You lean your head back against his shoulder, body freezing as you come for him again. He groans when you pinch around him, movements becoming sloppy.

“Oh – oh, fuck, I’m – I’m coming, I’m coming,” he moans, lips pushing hard into your neck as he twitches and then stills, and you feel the warm spurts of his come deep inside. The two of you groan, strangled and drawn out, collapsing on the bed with his arms around you and his cock softening inside. You listen to the sounds of the party downstairs, the two of you trying to catch your breaths, and he kisses along the back of your shoulder, brushing his thumb back and forth where it rests over your waist. 

“What are we gonna tell Mark?”, he asks.

You pause for a beat, then turn your head to him, “We’re telling Mark?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve wanted it, I’ve wanted it. I don’t want this to be a one time thing, I want it to be more than that, so at some point–”.

“More than what?”, you respond, your heartbeat returning to its heightened state earlier in the night. 

“More than just sex.” 

“Oh.” 

“I’m really into you,” he whispers, “I didn’t know if you felt the same way about me but it seems like you do, so–”. 

You shift around to face him, push his sweat damp locks away from his face and look into his eyes. Shy heat floods your face as you smile at him and nod carefully, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“You wanna go back downstairs?” he asks, fingertips ghosting down your spine before he reaches your thigh and hooks your knee over his leg, “We have Islands in the Stream on the karaoke machine, I know you like that song.” 

“Sure… In a bit.”

[fear-is-truth]

℘ 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 — patrick bateman

kinktober day two : mirror sex tags ; mature content﹒mdni﹒fem!reader﹒rough sex﹒mirror sex﹒full nelson﹒p in v

PATRICK BATEMAN worked out. every morning, without fail, he followed a precise routine. no equipment, just his own body and the vast, empty oak wood floor of his apartment loft. he moved with mechanical grace—push-ups, crunches, stretches—all meticulously timed down to the second, designed to maintain his flawless physique.

you’d watched him sometimes, the way his muscles flexed under his tan skin as he worked in silence, dressed only in a pair of pristine white calvin klein underwear. you’d seen him step out of the shower afterward, droplets of water catching the early sunlight filtering through the windows, muscles taut, skin flushed from the heat and exertion. he was the human embodiment of control.

now, that control extended to you.

legs pulled taut, you were trembling as his forearms braced the backs of your knees, forcing you into a full nelson over him. His back pressed into the mattress, his body pinned under yours as he held you tight, manipulating your every movement. your breath came in shallow, shaky gasps as you stared into the full-length mirror propped up against the wall across from the futon. the reflection was all you could see—your flushed face, breasts bouncing, the curve of your body caught in an unnatural, obscene arch while patrick’s face remained hidden behind you, out of sight.

he couldn’t see your expression. not that he needed to.

back arching further, muscles straining. “patrick…” you pleaded, but there you were met by no mercy. he only gripped you tighter. your body moved with his, but you could feel the strain in his muscles, the way he was holding back from letting go entirely. you were bent over him, chin digging into your collarbone as his hands held your neck and legs in place, forcing you to stay in this position.

“shut the fuck up, will you,” his jaw was clenched so tightly that you could almost hear the grind of his teeth as he continued to piston his hips into you. he was lying reclined beneath you, and the sight in the mirror was beyond lewd—how his cock disappeared and reappeared from your cunt with every upwards thrust. you could feel every ridge and vein dragging against your walls, slick dribbled down to your asshole as he brushed against the spot that made your stomach twist and your toes curl.

“do you have any idea…” his voice was low, trembling with barely suppressed rage. “…do you know what i want to do to you right now?” patrick’s hips stilled for a moment, his body rigid beneath yours as his hands gripped your waist hard enough to leave faint impressions on your skin. a dangerous tremor ran through him, and you knew—this wasn’t your fiancé being rough. this was him holding back.

“i could destroy you so easily,” he continued, hips surged up again, the force of his cock bullying against your g-spot making you bite down on your lip to stifle a cry.

“but i won’t. because i—” the words sounded more like a slur than a confession, his tone rough and edged with frustration. he hated how much control he was giving up for you, how much glorious violence he was holding back. but he did it anyway, his body shaking with effort. his body tensed beneath you again, hips jerking up into yours with more force than before, but it was still restrained.

“because i love you.”

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

subscribers: @mangiswig @hangmanscoming @xkaisxjazzxsingerx

[allegriana]

Every time I see those godawful rings in The Rings of Power I am filled with indignation. You're telling me that the greatest living Elven smith set these chunky bizarrely cut stones into these incredibly basic bands?? Was this the wretched work of Sauron to make Celebrimbor forget everything he ever knew about lapidary???

These rings are completely out of step with the rest of the elven art nouveau aesthetic. Elrond was 100% correct; they should have been cast into the abyss before they infected Middle Earth with the desire for subpar costume jewelry.

The whole point of cutting gemstones is to make them catch the light and sparkle in a way that shows off the unique properties of the stone. Celebrimbor's grandaddy understood this perfectly when he crafted the Silmarils, which captured the light of the Two Trees of Valinor. (Then he apparently died without passing this knowledge on to his descendants and Celebrimbor was forever dragged for his questionable design choices, I guess)

Here are some examples of rings made by people who had a budget of more than $50 and more than a weekend to knock out their Jewelry 101 summer camp project

https://www.langantiques.com/lang-collection-art-nouveau-style-1-81-carat-diamond-ring-gia-j-si2.html

https://pebbleandpolish.com/products/victorian-art-nouveau-buff-cut-garnet-and-diamond-ring-in-yellow-and-white-gold

I'd be willing to entertain arguments about using larger/weirdly faceted stones, but you still have to design the ring to take this shape and style into mind

https://byangeline.com/products/partially-faceted-natural-sapphire-gemstone-raw-rough-diamond-18k-yellow-gold-engagement-multi-stone-1280

Galadriel, gazing in fascination at the first Ring Pop ever crafted by the elves. Look at how delicate the rest of her jewelry and costume are in contrast to the Temu engagement ring. The elves eventually have to take these rings off not because Sauron forged the One Ring but because theirs were turning their fingers green.

There are so many set and costume designs in this show that I love; clearly a lot of talented people worked on this show! I just wish that as much elegant craftsmanship had informed the TITULAR rings.

(I'm sure some there have been some defensive justifications for Why the Rings Look Like That but I tell you I will not be swayed by any of them)

[callsigns-haze]

Could you write a Tyler Owens x reader where he's helping the reader calm down from an intense school moment. Like in college for a tough major (architecture would be cool lol, not biased at all; maybe focusing on better built homes for tornados) and it's like the first day of classes and it's chaos already.

Study Stress

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Warnings: Study stress, crying, emotional turmoil

A/N: I study architecture so trust me I have 11 projects going on currently and I sit in tears

The first day of classes at the College of Architecture was supposed to be exciting—a fresh start, a new challenge. But as the hours ticked by, Y/N felt the weight of the day pressing down on her, each class piling on more expectations and responsibilities. The chaotic buzz of students around her, the endless syllabi full of demanding projects, and the looming deadlines were enough to make her head spin.

By the time her last class ended, Y/N was completely overwhelmed. The idea of spending the next several years in this intense environment, working on complex designs and innovative solutions, seemed daunting. And to top it all off, her focus on tornado-resistant homes—a passion project born from personal experience—only added to the pressure. The stakes felt incredibly high, and it seemed like everyone else was already miles ahead.

Dragging herself back to her apartment, Y/N tried to hold it together. But as soon as she closed the door behind her, the floodgates opened. She slid down to the floor, her back against the door, tears spilling down her cheeks. The stress, the anxiety, the fear of failure—it all came crashing down at once.

She didn’t hear the door open or Tyler’s footsteps approaching. She was too lost in her thoughts, in the panic that was rising inside her. But when she felt his arms wrap around her, pulling her into a warm, comforting embrace, she finally exhaled.

“Hey, hey… it’s okay,” Tyler’s voice was soft, soothing, as he gently rocked her. “I’ve got you.”

Y/N buried her face in his chest, her sobs muffled against his shirt. “It’s too much, Ty. It’s only the first day, and I’m already falling apart. How am I supposed to do this?”

Tyler didn’t respond right away. Instead, he just held her, letting her cry, letting her get it all out. He knew better than to try and fix things with words right now. Sometimes, you just needed to let the storm pass on its own.

After a few minutes, when her breathing started to even out, Tyler pulled back just enough to look at her, his hand gently brushing a few stray tears from her face. “You don’t have to do it all at once, you know,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring. “You’re going to take it one step at a time, one class at a time, one project at a time. And I’ll be right here with you, every step of the way.”

Y/N sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “But what if I can’t do it? What if I’m not good enough?”

“You’re more than good enough,” Tyler replied firmly, his eyes meeting hers with unwavering confidence. “You’re smart, passionate, and driven. You care about what you’re doing, and that’s half the battle right there. The rest… well, it’s just practice. You’ll get better, you’ll get stronger, and you’ll learn how to handle the pressure.”

Y/N wanted to believe him, but the doubt still lingered. “I’m so scared of failing.”

Tyler’s expression softened, and he took her hands in his, squeezing them gently. “Failure isn’t the end of the world, Y/N. It’s just part of the process. And you’re not in this alone. You’ve got your classmates, your professors, and you’ve got me. I’m not going to let you go through this by yourself.”

She looked into his eyes, finding comfort in the steady, reassuring gaze that had always been her anchor. Tyler was her calm in the storm, the person who could steady her when everything else felt like it was spiraling out of control.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N nodded, feeling a little more centered. “Okay… one step at a time.”

Tyler smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “That’s my girl. Now, how about we take the rest of the day off? We can order some takeout, watch a movie, and just relax. The work will still be there tomorrow.”

The idea of taking a break sounded like exactly what she needed. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

“Good,” Tyler said, helping her up from the floor. He kept his arm around her as they moved to the couch, where he pulled a blanket over them both. As they settled in, Y/N felt the tension slowly leaving her body, replaced by a sense of warmth and security.

With Tyler by her side, she knew she could face whatever challenges came her way. And for now, that was enough.

Requests for Tyler are open be free to send in as much as you wish!

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

@katiemcrae

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part One: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship [eventual warning for smut; be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin loves you so much it hurts, he just really wants to make sure your silly little girl brain doesn’t get in the way of your safety, you have a cat, Anakin is a bartender [diary entries from Ani’s perspective] MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: May 2nd

The Cerulean was filled with loud music, flashing lights, and the stench of sweaty guys and spilt beer. Over-kill perfume on the girls who so desperately wanted my attention, writing their numbers on their drink coasters after finishing their stupid little cocktail. The occasional ‘break it up guys, c’mon’ yelled out at a pair of ‘roided up college boys. Peanut shells stuck to my sneakers at the end of the night, going home and washing off the stickiness from working behind the bar.

All things I was used to.

But you… not you. Every time I caught a glimpse of you tonight it was like the first time all over again.

Pink, skirt, sneakers, crop top. Such a cute little outfit; it made you easy to spot, easy to track, easy to watch over.

I have your drink order memorized. I so hoped you’d come back for another so I could hear your voice, to see your pretty little lips move just for me again. But you didn’t. Because you’re a smart girl. You knew that without a man around to look out for you, you’d be pretty hopeless if you got too tipsy. It only made me want to protect you more. You’re too soft, too sweet, too innocent to worry about the big nasty world around you.

That’s my job now.

I’ll always keep you safe, but I also want to keep you happy. You deserve the world and more, and I’ll give it to you.

I’d destroy the earth to build it up again in your design. I’d live for you, serve you, die for you, at any moment you might ask. Just say the word and I will. I promise I will.

Note: Motion sensors

Date:

May 23rd

Anakin walked a safe distance behind you, his hands in his hoodie pocket, his hood up and head down. It was dark out, the only light was from the street lamps.

Sometimes when he walked you home he just wanted to run up and grab you by the shoulders and shake you; ask you to please for once just pay attention to your surroundings.

You walked around with your headphones in, ignoring everything and everyone. Yeah it was a straight shot to your apartment from the bar. Only having to cross the road once during the mile long journey down the sidewalk. But a mile was a good stretch of space and there were plenty of people who passed you. A handful of creepy, unlit alleyways you could be dragged into.

You were practically asking for it.

He just had to remind himself that this was just another reason you were so lucky to have him. He’d watch over you, so you didn’t have to worry your pretty little head about nothin’.

Anakin stood by the corner store dumpster and watched as you trotted up the steps and tapped the door code into the keypad of your apartment building. After the door shut behind you and he saw the keypad flash red, he knew you were safely locked inside.

It took approximately one minute and 14 seconds for you to jog up the steps to your door, depending on how tired you were he could add a few seconds and not worry. But anything over 20 seconds had him sweating in a panic.

Tonight though you were right on time, his phone pinged with an alert that your door had been opened, and successfully shut behind you. Now he could breathe a sigh of relief and make his way back to work.

His boss was kind enough to never question why he skipped out for about 20 minutes a night or two a week. Anakin smoked, it wasn’t unlikely to assume he just got a little distracted scrolling on his phone during his smoke break or maybe just needed a few minutes of peace.

Now all he had to do was suffer through three more hours of monotonous work and try not get a head start on his hearing loss from the shitty music.

Then he could go home to you.

The cloak of stress he wore when you were out of sight vanished quickly when he perched on the fire escape and peered into your living room. Poor thing. You’d fallen asleep on the couch again.

Not that he minded. It made his night that much better when he could sit closer to you. It was a pain to climb the ladder of the building next door and sit on the rooftop so he could see into your bedroom window. Very inconvenient, but worth it everytime.

He sat quietly, observing you and the way your lips twitched while you slept, as though you were having a conversation with someone in your dreams. Probably him, he thought.

“Oh, your blanket… you’re gonna be cold if you keep squirming around like that, your blanket is gonna end up in the floor.”

His fingers itched to pry open the window and tuck you back in, but he didn’t. He promised himself he wouldn’t do that. No breaking and entering.

He decided it was time to head back to his own home after that, he couldn’t stay much longer without: a) falling asleep b) forcing his way into your apartment for the sake of keeping you warm.

So he trekked to the sidewalk, wiping off the rust stains on his palms from the old metal fire escape. Shoving his hands back into his hoodie pocket after blowing you a goodnight kiss.

Diary Entry: June 6th

You owe me big time young lady.

You left your door unlocked and your window cracked open. It is 3:00am, what if someone snuck in? Then what would I do?

Die probably. I’d probably die if something happened to you.

Therefore, I bit the bullet and helped you out. I’m lucky you’re a heavy sleeper and I’m not easy to startle or else we both would’ve had a big scare tonight.

I cracked open your window, slipped in quietly, lowered it behind me, locked it. Double checked it and then triple checked it just in case.

When I turned around- christ that fucking cat. I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes. Guard dog? Who needs a guard dog when you’ve got that monster running around?

A quick blur of orange and a loud *reeeareow* was the only warning before it- sorry, Boogie, climbed up my leg with her little pitchfork claws. I handled it well, you’d be proud. I picked her up by the scruff and gave her a light bop on the noggin’ just like you do when she’s in trouble; except I didn’t kiss it better afterwards, I think she would’ve eaten me if I tried that.

Any-who, I carried her with me to the kitchen and got her a little treat from the cutesy kitten jar on the countertop. Then she decided we could be friends or well… maybe or maybe not I don’t really know, I guess we’ll see.

I plucked your spare key from the top of the fridge and quietly left your apartment. I locked the door and checked it several times, just in case.

As I walked down the steps I saw that the super was kind enough to leave a reminder that the keypad code had been changed, how nice of him! You are awfully forgetful sometimes. No worries princess I took a picture for safe keeping.

I need to change the batteries on or door sensors soon anyway, those little button batteries don’t last very long you know.

It was only when I got home that I realized I still had your spare key… tsk tsk Anakin. Ah well, that just means it won’t fall into the hands of someone it shouldn’t. I’ll keep it safe.

I love you 🖤

Diary Entry: June 7th

You know, come to think of it. Now that I have a key I should get a few new items for your apartment, that way I can keep an eye on things for you while you’re away.

Note: Hd1080p microcam x4

There will be a bot to go along with this series! This is really short compared to my usual posts: I just wanted to give all my little lovelies a snippet of what’s to come.

Part Two

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @styleslytherin @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141

Let me know if you wanna be added/removed

[simplygojo]

GhostFace Ep. 2 - Kento Nanami

Author's Note: Hey y'all, tysm for all the love n care you've been sending me. I am basically back to normal now, so lets assume our resume Kinktober schedule..haha.

Spooky Szn Masterlist

This episode includes a Kinktober Prompt request from one of my loves @erebus-et-eigengrau for Nanami with bondage & blade play, I hope you enjoy ;) The request is linked here for any interested <3

Pairing: Kento Nanami x f!reader

Kinks: Bondage & Knife Play

Word Count: 2.3K

Kinktober Taglist: @nanamisrighthand @simplyyyuji; @megumisdivinedogs; @lovleyredheadfairy

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, MDNI, blade play, fingering, oral, bondage, aggressive sex.

The evening was quiet, except for the soft hum of the streetlights as you made your way back home.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, pulling your attention to the screen.

Nanami: I have a surprise waiting for you. Don’t be scared when you get home.

Your brows furrowed in curiosity, but with Nanami, surprises could range from quiet, thoughtful gestures to things far more... intense. Anticipation began to bubble within you, making your heart beat a little faster.

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside, expecting something mild, but your breath caught when you saw him.

Nanami stood in the middle of the room, shirtless, his well-built chest illuminated by the dim lighting.

The yellow-dotted tie you loved so much hung loosely around his neck, and in his hand, the familiar gleam of his short blade reflected the dim light. 

But it wasn’t just that—the Ghostface mask covered his face, eerily tilted in your direction as he regarded you in silence.

The door clicked shut behind you, your back pressing against it instinctively as he took a step toward you. 

“It’s time to play psycho killer,” his voice was low, that deep, rich baritone sending chills down your spine despite the mask obscuring his expression.

"Nanami?" You couldn't help the breathy question, though your body was already responding to the dark intensity of the moment.

Your heart hammered as he closed the distance, the gleam of the short blade catching your attention. 

Before you could process the thought, the flat edge of the blade was tracing along your collarbone, its chill a stark contrast to the heat now flooding your body. 

The touch was delicate, precise—just enough to elicit a sharp intake of breath, but never truly threatening. 

His movements were slow, calculated—designed to draw out every ounce of anticipation.

The chill of the blade heightened the warmth building within you, the juxtaposition making your breath quicken as your nipples hardened under your clothes. 

You gasped softly when he tilted the blade downward, dragging it in a smooth line between your breasts, the tip stopping just above your navel.

"Shhh," he murmured, his voice deep and velvety, that commanding tone sending another shiver down your spine. 

"Don't want the neighbours to think something's wrong," he purred, the dark amusement in his tone sending a fresh jolt of arousal through you—and the mask made it all the more unnerving.

The pressure of his hand grounded you, pulling you closer to him while the blade remained a ghost of a threat, glinting in the low light as it hovered near your skin.

With a sharp tug, he steered you towards the bedroom, your feet barely keeping up with the sudden shift in control. His grip tightened as he pushed you forward, his body a solid force behind you, leading you into the shadows of the room.

You bit your lip, watching as he pulled you toward the bed. His strong grip on your wrists had you stumbling slightly, but he caught you easily, laying you down on the soft mattress. 

The weight of his body pressed against yours as he hovered over you, and the cool blade brushed against your thigh now, making your heart race even faster.

“Don’t move,” he warned softly, the blade's edge grazing your inner thigh, and you obeyed without question, heat pooling between your legs at the dark intensity in his voice.

Your eyes trailed over him, from his chiselled torso to the way his hands worked skillfully, keeping you bound. 

You couldn’t see his face, but the mask... the mask had you trembling. It was something out of a twisted fantasy, and the fact that it was Nanami underneath it only made it hotter.

Your heart raced as he loomed over you, a powerful figure cloaked in shadows and desire. With each passing second, the air around you thickened, charged with anticipation and a hint of danger. 

You barely had time to register your excitement before he moved again, the blade gliding against your skin as he expertly worked to undress you.

The cool steel slid up your thigh, drawing closer to the waistband of your pants. 

In one swift motion, he sliced through the fabric as if it were nothing, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. 

The remnants fell away, leaving you bare beneath him, the cool air hitting your skin and intensifying your arousal. You gasped at the sudden chill, and he took a moment to admire your body, his masked head tilting slightly as if he were considering his next move.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. 

“So beautiful and needy.” The words sent a shockwave of heat coursing through your body, igniting a spark of desire that made your cheeks flush. 

You squirmed slightly under his gaze, the sensation of being completely bare in front of him heightening your awareness of every inch of your skin.

“Nanami…” You breathed, your voice trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. 

You wanted to move, to reach out for him, but the command in his tone held you captive.

With a calculated slowness, he reached for your remaining clothing, fingers deftly working to peel it away from your body. 

Once you were completely naked, you felt a swell of vulnerability mixed with exhilaration. 

You could feel his gaze raking over you through the white mask, a mix of appreciation and lust, and it sent shivers racing down your spine.

You squirmed beneath him, your nerves electrified with every inch of skin he revealed. 

“Don’t you dare move,” he repeated, voice low and insistent, a warning wrapped in lust. 

With a swift, practiced motion, he reached for his tie—the one hanging loosely around his neck—and looped it around your wrists, securing them tightly to the bedframe. 

The silk felt soft against your skin, but the firm knots left no room for escape. You tugged at the restraints instinctively, testing them, only to realize you were completely at his mercy.

Nanami wasn’t finished. 

He moved down your body, the bed dipping slightly as he reached for the ropes he’d prepared earlier. With deliberate care, he tied each of your legs to the bedposts, spreading them open. 

The rough texture of the rope bit slightly into your skin, the contrast to the smoothness of his tie amplifying the sensation.

The position left you vulnerable, completely exposed beneath him, and the weight of that realization sent a surge of heat through your body. 

You were bound, spread, and utterly helpless under his control, every inch of your skin tingling with anticipation.

“Now, look at you,” he murmured, his tone holding a teasing edge that made your stomach flutter. His hand slid down your thigh, grazing the rope as he admired his handiwork. 

“My pretty girl, all spread out for me…” You felt yourself squirm again at the sound of his voice, “so needy for me.”

“Nanami,” you whined, testing the restraints as you squirmed beneath him, your body reacting instinctively to the delicious tension of being tied up and completely at his mercy. 

“Please, I need—”

He cut you off with a low chuckle, stepping back slightly to appreciate the sight of you, all helpless before him. 

“You need what, exactly? To be touched? To be fucked?” His words dripped with lust, the thrill of power evident in his tone. 

“We’ll see just how needy you really are.” He practically growled.

The tie around your wrists held firm, the soft fabric biting just enough into your skin to remind you that you were bound, helpless under his command. 

Every instinct screamed for release, for his touch, but you were utterly at his mercy, and the way his masked gaze lingered over you only made the ache between your thighs unbearable.

“Nanami, please…” Your voice came out desperate, a soft plea laced with the need for his touch, for anything that would ease the tension building within you.

He let out a low chuckle, his fingers danced closer to where you wanted them most, barely grazing the wetness between your legs.

You whimpered in response, hips instinctively bucking upward in search of relief, but he pressed you back down, his grip firm yet controlled. 

“Ah, ah,” he scolded softly, giving your throbbing pussy a playful tap, “be patient.”

His thumb brushed against your slick folds, gathering your arousal before he slowly dipped his finger inside you, making you gasp at the sudden sensation. 

He moved with excruciating slowness, dragging his finger out before adding another, curling them just enough to send sparks of pleasure through your body. 

He was driving you insane, holding you on the brink of release but never quite letting you fall.

“Please, Nanami,” you begged, your voice breaking as the need for release became unbearable. “I’m so close, please—”

“You’ll cum when I say so,” he growled softly, his fingers pushing even deeper into you, his free hand squeezing your thigh tightly, his dominance evident in every word.

Your legs trembled as he pumped his fingers in and out, a torturous rhythm that only left you wanting more as he started you down through that mask.

You tugged at the restraints, your body writhing as you begged for more. 

“Please, Nanami—” Your voice cracked, your chest heaving with need.

But he wasn’t done teasing you.

You watched through half-lidded eyes as his hand slowly reached up, gripping the bottom edge of the mask. 

With deliberate care, he lifted it, pushing it back so that it rested on the top of his head. 

His eyes, dark with lust and intent, were now fully visible, the soft strands of his blonde hair damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead.

The sight of Nanami—his strong jaw clenched in restraint, lips parted slightly as he watched you with an intensity that made your heart skip—was almost too much. His usually composed demeanour was completely undone, his desire for you naked in his gaze.

He leaned his head down, and his lips pressed a soft kiss against your swollen clit. 

The sensation sent a sharp jolt of pleasure coursing through you, a cry escaping your lips as your head fell back against the bed.

“Good girl,” he praised softly, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive flesh. 

His tongue darted out, flicking over your clit in slow, deliberate strokes, sending you spiralling further into the haze of pleasure. 

Each flick of his tongue was slow, and methodical, paired perfectly with the way his fingers continued to thrust deep inside you, stretching and teasing your walls.

You whimpered, toes curling in response to the maddening rhythm. 

He sucked gently on your clit, sending a pulse of heat straight through your body, and your legs trembled uncontrollably. His teeth grazed your sensitive bud just enough to make you yelp, as fat tears pricked at your eyes, the line between pleasure and pain blurring beautifully.

"F-fuck, Nanami!" You gasped, the overwhelming sensation of his mouth driving you to the edge. 

Your body strained against the restraints, desperate for more, hips arching off the bed as your mind clouded with ecstasy.

He pulled back slightly, a low hum of satisfaction escaping him as he watched your body writhe beneath him. 

"You're so close already," he said, his voice dark and teasing. 

“Beg for it.”

The words barely registered through the haze of pleasure, but you could hear the command in his tone. 

“Please—fuck, please, Nanami, I need you,” you whimpered, eyes half-lidded and voice shaking with desperation. “I’m begging you… please…”

His chuckle was low, predatory, and he finally lifted his head up, wiping his glistening lips with the back of his hand. 

Without wasting another second, he positioned himself between your thighs, lining himself up with your dripping entrance. 

Your body trembled with anticipation, and when he pushed into you, filling you completely, a ragged moan tore from your throat.

The stretch was fucking intoxicating, every inch of him pressing into you as your walls clenched around him. 

He didn’t give you time to adjust, thrusting into you hard and deep, his pace relentless right from the start. 

The sounds of your slick heat mixing with his low groans filled the room, the rhythm of his hips driving you further into the haze of pleasure.

“Na-Nanami—” You gasped, your back arching and your hands pulling against the fabric binding them as he hit that perfect spot inside you, your entire body shaking from the force of his thrusts.

“Such a needy little thing,” he growled, his voice strained with pleasure as he reached up, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling your head back. 

“Cum for me, sweetheart, now.” He ordered, his voice dark and commanding.

His words sent you spiralling over the edge, your body tensing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You screamed his name as you came, your walls clenching tightly around him, milking him as your body trembled violently with release.

Nanami’s thrusts grew erratic, chasing his own release as your gummy walls pulsed around him. 

With a guttural groan, he buried himself deep inside you, filling you completely as his own orgasm tore through him.

The two of you stayed there, tangled in each other’s heat, your body trembling with the aftershocks of your release as he collapsed against you. 

The weight of him pressed into you, grounding you after the intense high, the room filled with the sound of your heavy breathing.

"Good girl," he whispered, his lips ghosting over your ear, gently pulling down the Ghostface mask as he gently untied your wrists from the bedframe, leaving you breathless and completely sated.

Author's Note II: If you got this far I hope you loved it!! I just wanted ti say that if you personally want a specific character for the GhostFace series, please lmk via comments!! LURV U <3

[satorhime]

. ･｡･ self checkout ࿐ nagi seishiro.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content ㆍ﹒fluff, aged up!nagi, pro footballer!nagi, height difference (reader is shorter than nagi), shopping trips, slightly suggestive, established relationship. f!reader. w.c. 2k & not proofread.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis ㆍ﹒nagi enjoys running errands if the two of you go together. & ໒꒰ྀི ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ྀིა notes: baby’s first blue lock fic !! honestly i’m supa nervous bc i haven’t written 4 them before n i’m still figuring things out but i hope u enjoy reading this anw <333

“this date is so tiring,” nagi laments for the fifth time since you stepped through the automated sliding doors of the neighborhood supermarket. he blows out a breath from his puffed cheeks, sounding as if he is on the verge of collapsing while you browse the shelves for pantry essentials and late night snacks. “when can we go home?”

a trendy song from a summer spotify mix croons over the tinny speakers overhead, its bubblegum pop lyrics interrupted every now and then by a cheery voice advertising new items and upcoming discounts. the supermarket is busier than when you and seishiro usually stop by, which isn’t all that surprising considering it’s the end of the day. college students carry armfuls of instant ramen and sugary sodas for study sessions and old ladies browse for medicinal teas while parents push full carts of groceries, ignoring their wailing children who press their little noses against the frosty glass of the freezers, begging to be given overpriced ice creams locked away inside.

and you resist the urge to roll your eyes with exasperation, glancing over to where your boyfriend leans heavily on the handle of the cart he has been tasked with pushing for you— his long fingers tapping away at a mobile game on the screen of his phone.

“that’s because,” you begin, wagging a finger at him when you turn around and toss an item into the bottom of the cart. “it’s not a date, sei. i told you that i had to run errands today and you insisted on coming with me when you hate it.”

“‘s’boring at home when you’re not there, so it seemed like a good idea at first,” he shrugs, rolling the cart further down the aisle when you’re on the move again. slothy, midwinter gray eyes drag lazily over your body— taking in the way your faded t-shirt (which is, really, just one of his old ones) rides up a little on your body, exposing the cute little dimples in the soft part of your back as you stand on your tiptoes, struggling to reach one of the higher shelves in the freezer section.

you are well aware that nagi hates daily tasks. things such as making the bed in the morning, washing the dishes after dinner, or visiting the laundromat once a week requires too much energy from your drowsy footballer boyfriend, but it makes you happy to know that he tries, even if he falls asleep while doing it; that he will do anything if you are involved, and nothing if you aren’t.

like right now, he abandons his mobile game and the shopping cart in the middle of the aisle without care to come over and help you, making a mother of two-under-two glare at him viciously. he snorts, sliding his hand into the back pocket of your denim shorts, a romantic comedy habit of his when the two of you are walking anywhere together. nagi’s head tilts cutely to one side, blinking owlishly up at the shelves. “which one d’you wanna get, shortstack?”

“i am not short,” you huff, twisting your mouth to one side at his teasing, but you point to the item you want— an assorted pack of ice lollies. “shelves are designed against short people. and i dunno— are we in the mood for ice cream or popsicles?”

it’s hard to make a decision because freezers full of summer treats line both sides of the aisle. tubs of gourmet gelatos, variety packs of creamy ice candies, and an endless selection of mochi with custard fillings in the middle that make your mouth water at the thought of bringing them home with you.

“i’ll eat them no matter what anyway,” he shrugs, unwilling to be the one to choose, but then his gray eyes glance down at your lips, then back to the items in front of you. you swear that his eyes darken to a stormier color, even though his expression never changes. “you make cute sounds when you suck on ice pops, and you always taste sweet after. get those.”

and then he faces forward, browsing the selection of ice creams with interest, as if his words didn’t short circuit a current in your brain. you’ll never understand how seishiro can say the most outlandish things so casually, only to return to what he’s doing while you’re left attempting to calm your fast heart.

“ice pops it is,” you say, a little winded. “make sure to get the second pack, and not the first.”

“mhnn, why’s it matter? the second one’s farther back. they all look the same to me.”

“they’re not. the first is one everybody has touched or returned.”

“that . . . makes sense,” he considers it, then he nods, lips formed into a little ‘o’ shape. “okay, we’ll get the second one.”

you watch as he steps forward, pushing the first pack of ice lollies aside to select the second as you requested, reaching the item with ease and heavens, it’s moments like these when you are reminded just how much bigger seishiro is. he’s always towered over your shorter height and it’s so, so unfair how he uses it to his advantage, making your tummy burn at the sight. frosty air wafts from the open door of the freezer, bringing chills over your heated skin. “‘s a good thing i was here, since you’re so little— there was no way you could reach it.”

“‘m not little,” you mumble, all pouty because nagi is squishing your cheeks between two finger pads. “you’re just so tall. it’s unfair.”

“want me to be shorter?” he asks, and before you can ask what he means, nagi drops the pack of ice pops into your hands and deflates dramatically, bending down to drape himself over your frame. his head tucked against your shoulder, the footballer’s milky fringe tickling the skin of your neck as he closes his eyes. “man, now ‘m even more tired.”

“seishiro, you’re heavy.”

“i know,” he sighs, eyes shuttering below thick lashes, but he makes no effort to move away from your body. instead, his hand slithers under your shirt. making you shiver because his fingertips are dewy and cold from the arctic blast of the freezer and the frozen treat he picked up. you hiss, squirming under his touch as his fingers trail across your belly. “but i’m tired ‘n’ you feel s’soft, like a pillow.”

“nagi, off,” you wheeze, his extra weight making it hard for you to properly breathe. it’s easy to forget how solid he is, straight lines of athletic muscle that usually has you cow-eyed and cooing, as long as it’s not weighing you down in the middle of a supermarket. you try to shake him off, but the midfielder only squeezes you against his body even tighter, his slightly damp lips pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “we’re never gonna get anything done like this, you lazy boy. if you don’t wanna walk, go wait in the sitting area with the grandpas.”

he sighs in defeat and shakes his head, pressing his lips together in that cute frown he pulls whenever he’s thinking. then, he’s dropping his arms from you suddenly. “mmhn, got a better idea.”

“and what’s that—”

you face nagi, only to catch your boyfriend with one foot in the shopping cart as he tries to hoist himself over the railing and inside of the basket.

“sei, you can’t fit in there—!” your eyes flicker between him, and the elderly man judging the two of you at the other end of the aisle. “you’re too big.”

“you’re always saying things like that,” he says, and the innuendo intertwined in the words flies over your pretty head because with one boost, he’s hopping over the railing and sinking into the cart, the metal rattling in protest. you stand there, dumbstruck as he settles. “now i can stay with you without walking.”

“yeah, but now that means i have to push you,” you grumble. “i should leave you here and get a new cart.”

but it’s hard to refuse when your boyfriend is that cute. his impossibly long legs are folded against his chest so that he can fit inside the shopping cart comfortably, taking extra care not to crush any of the delicate items surrounding him. the lower half of his face is buried into the collar of his soft hoodie as he absently chews on the drawstrings, but you can still see the sanrio bandaid you put on him yesterday after he got a nasty elbow to the cheek during football practice.

even though you two are already receiving strange looks from other shoppers passing by, you grip the handle, pushing the cart and your boyfriend dutifully, rolling it onto the next aisle.

“you look ridiculous,” you tell him, but you’re grinning. “but here, you’re on list duty. what do we need to get next?”

nagi’s eyes dutifully scan over the shopping list open in the notes app of your phone, his fingernail scrolling the screen lightly.

“it says ‘ramen because my greedy athlete bf keeps eating it all’ so y’need to get . . . oi, you mean me—”

“i wonder who wrote that there,” you whistle innocently, plucking the device out of his hands, wheeling him away fast.

the rest of your shopping trip is a blur, except for you turning a corner too fast and nearly dumping him out of the cart or the weird looks shoppers continue to give you because by the time you’re lining up in the queue, nagi is buried under the items because he takes up too much space. there’s a bag of rice on one shoulder, a pack of ramen on the other and fresh radishes sprouting from the snowy peaks of his head. not to mention, he’s still holding the pack of ice pops, condensation dripping over his hands.

“you’re making them melt, sei.” because he runs hot a heated blanket in the summer, and you can sympathize with the poor popsicles being defrosted in his big hands.

“‘m gonna eat one so they won’t— oh, hey this one is lemon,” he says, prying open the cardboard lid and tearing open the plastic wrapper of a lemon crème ice pop. tongue peeking out to lick before he’s holding it over his shoulder for you to taste next. “try it. i don’t sound as cute as you when i eat them.”

“sei, you’re not supposed to open those before we—” but nagi pushes the cold treat between your lips insistently, your eyes rounding wide, whining in protest as the ice pop hits your sensitive teeth. but it does taste good— creamy, sweet and sour flavors coating the surface of your tongue. “oh, it’s sh’good. we should get another pack.”

“see? y’make the cutest sounds when you suck it.”

“shut up, seishiro.”

you begin placing the items on the conveyor belt, listening to the irritating bleep, bleep, bleep of the scanner as the cashier rings up each product. you’re not frugal, but you peep at the total on the screen every now and then with a wince.

“that’s it for you, or are you buying the man in your cart too, ma’am?” the cashier asks, glancing at nagi as he finishes off the melting ice pop in the shopping cart, chin resting on top of his knees.

“no,” and you giggle, cheeks warming as you roll your eyes in exasperation. “this one is already mine.”

[uwupaige]

the nanny [paige bueckers] part nine

(chapters 15 & 16)

read part eight here!

chapter fifteen: pink frosting.

paige pulled her car into her designated spot outside of her condo building, exhaustion clear as day on her face. the estimated thirty minute drive from the airport took longer than necessary, something about a sunday afternoon causing tons of traffic. the thought of having to unload all of their luggage and drag it upstairs already exhausted her even more, knowing madison wouldn't be any help. and the fact it had begun to snow, she knew she had to be fast, or else madison would get busy playing in it.

sighing, paige unbuckled herself from her seat, turning off the engine and stepping out of the warmth of her black vehicle and into the chilly atmosphere. she quickly made her way to the trunk of her car, pulling out the two large suitcases they used for the week, along with the several backpacks they used as well. and as if the universe had heard her internally complaining about the load she had to take in on her own, the sound of a familiar, but completely unexpected, scream interrupted her whining.

the blonde looked up hesitantly at where the noise had seemingly come from, unsure if she'd even want to know. however, it was none other than an excited catherine, standing at the porch of paige's condo. the woman had a blanket she definitely pulled off of paige's couch draped over her shoulder in attempt to protect her from the cold, an arm sticking out as she waved down the two girls a few floors down from her.

and then, as soon as she was there, she was gone. paige furrowed her brows, confused at everything that was happening. maybe it was just because she was tired, or maybe the last argument she had with her mom was still heavy on her mental and could've been causing hallucinations.

"was that cat?" madison asked from beside the woman, only further assuring her that it was indeed real.

"i think so?" paige replied just as unsure.

the brunette returned to their sight a few minutes later, an actual jacket on her torso now as she made her way out of the front door to paige's building.

the same excited smile grew across her face as she got closer to the bueckers, her arms opened wide when she saw madison heading towards her.

"maddie!" the woman called out, to madison's surprise. like she didn't know it was catherine until she heard her voice. the girls face mimicked catherine's as she ran over to her, somehow not slipping in the snowy parking lot. catherine crouched down to catch madison in her arms, squeezing her as tight as she could. "oh- i missed you, mamita. how was it? was it fun?"

madison then went on and on about the trip as a whole, down to the snacks she got to eat on the plane ride back to storrs. catherine just nodded enthusiastically as she pulled the girl out of her embrace, letting her finish her story, her active listening skills showing out.

once madison was done with the majority of her story, catherine stood up from her crouch, her eyes finally meeting paige's blue ones. as if they could read right through one another, catherine immediately knew that look on paige's face, knew the reason for the bags under her eyes, and why she looked so relieved to see her.

catherine gave the blonde a smile, a sweet and gentle one.

"hey, p," her voice was much calmer, softer than when she was just talking to madison. "c'mere." she prompted, walking closer to paige until their bodies connected in a hug, her arms coming to wrap around her shoulders naturally, like they had hugged each other every day.

but they didn't hug each other every day.

they never hugged.

paige's brows furrowed momentarily, her hands hesitantly coming up to catherine's back as she held her in the embrace. though she wasn't expecting it, she was not about to complain. a hug from catherine could probably heal the world, and she'd been patiently waiting for her turn.

every time madison was sad, or had an 'owie', she'd run to catherine for a hug. like it was the only thing that could make her feel better. and right now, paige understood and agreed completely. she'd been looking for this hug all week—she needed it.

catherine could've sworn she felt paige melting into the hug, different from the initial tense body she started hugging moments prior. she could tell paige was tired, in need of some support. her weight was heavy and her grip was tighter than either of them realized.

catherine didn't let herself dwell over the fact that paige was hugging her, this being the first time their bodies were this close, and in such an intimate manner. she didn't think too deeply about how a family of butterflies invaded her stomach, or the sense of relief she also felt during their embrace. and god forbid she noticed the way paige's hands slid across her back and waist as she pulled away from the hug, lingering in its place naturally. or the way it left her mind wandering down a dangerous, inappropriate path—she just focused on paige.

pulling away after a few moments passed, catherine give paige a sympathetic smile. "you alright?"

paige nods, a small smile on her lips. "better now that i'm home."

catherine's smile stayed as she looked between the blonde and the small girl next to her. she knew that paige just needed a break, a moment to relax.

"hey, maddie." the woman fully turned towards the five year old, hands falling to her knees as she bent down to be eye level with the girl.

"hm?" madison hummed.

"i have something super fun planned inside!"

the girls eyes widened and lit up, and catherine would have sworn she saw stars in her eyes. madison was always so excited for an adventure, anything new. "what is it?!"

"you gotta go see for yourself!" the brunette replied in a tone that mimicked madison's thrilled one.

madison made her way through the little snow fall, not missing the warnings from paige and catherine to slow down or be careful as she began trekking several feet ahead of them.

as they walked into the bueckers home, a smell that could only be described as christmas lingered, along with music that fit perfectly with the holiday spirit.

it wasn't until then that paige noticed catherine's christmas themed pajama pants. red and green plaid clung comfortably to her legs, and she paired it with a dark, red top. paige cursed herself internally for basically checking catherine out, her eyes moving up and down her body bashfully. she hated how easily entranced she became in the woman's presence. she hated how her body naturally looked that good. and she hated how she could tell catherine wasn't wearing a bra, and how much it made her stomach flip.

or maybe she just hated it because she knew it was so far out of reach. so unattainable. that's when she knew she was in deep.

'cut it out,' paige thought to herself.

madison gasped a few moments after entering her home, excitement rushing through her, though she didn't know what to expect—the sound of christmas jingles enough to rile her up. "what're we doing, cat?"

"we're making christmas cookies!"

madison jumps in excitement, turning to paige swiftly. "oh! oh! mom, can we put up the christmas tree?"

paige smiles down at the girl, glad there was something to snap her out of her thoughts. leave it up to madison to always keep you on your toes.

"yeah, babe, of course."

˚✧.*

the three girls have been standing in paige's kitchen, all focused on something specific to the cookie baking process as they conversed about their week apart.

"what'd you and molly do while you were there? in new york?" paige asked as she began preheating the oven, looking over a recipe she found online.

"nothing much.." the brunette responds, kneading one half of the sugar cookie dough, madison taking her time on the second half. "she took me to the city for a day, it was beautiful. too crowded for me, though."

paige snorted quietly. that sounded like something catherine would say. "you're the only person to go to new york city and expect it not to be crowded."

scoffing, catherine looked past her shoulder momentarily to stare daggers at the blonde, noticing how she began to struggle with the oven. "listen, i love new york," the woman defended, "seriously, if i ever run away, it'll be to new york." she explained, "but i would not live in the city."

"you're such a baby." paige teased, a laugh following her words.

"can you just hand me the damn cookie cutters, please?" catherine dismissed the blondes teasing, shooing her off to do something that wasn't bothering her. "they're in that bag."

paige rummaged momentarily through the brown paper bag that carried all of catherine's favorite baking essentials, but came up short. taking the bag in her hand, she walked over to catherine like a lost child, "they're not in here."

catherine looked up from her cookie dough rolling and into the dark bag, noticing that the christmas themed cookie cutters were indeed not in there.

"shit, i must've left it in the car." she spoke, mainly to herself.

paige watched as the woman began dusting off her hands and placing her utensils down, like she was getting ready to leave.

"i can go get it," the blonde offered quickly, before catherine could get too far.

"oh, it's okay, i can gr—"

"no, let me," paige proposed once more, this time her hand casually falling to the brunettes back, willing her to stay.

as soon as her hand was there, was as soon as it was gone. though, the chills down catherine's spine stayed stagnant, yearning for her to touch her again.

something about being away from each other longer than they were used to made things feel different now that they were back. the amount of times they had shared touches tonight probably would have added up to every single time they've touched ever before.

catherine cleared her throat in attempt to clear her mind at the sound of her car keys jingling, and the front door closing behind paige.

letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding in, the woman began helping madison roll out her cookie dough.

moments passed and madison if now was the right time to talk. "cat?"

"yeah, mama?"

"grandma got upset that i called paigey mom." madison had waited to talk about this, knowing her mom a little too well, not wanting to hurt her feelings or upset her. this setting reminded her of the first time she spoke with catherine about this, and it prompted her to continue it now.

catherine just snorted, having heard all about it already, "did she?"

madison nodded, "yeah, she was really mad at mom."

catherine shrugged, "it's okay, you don't have to worry about it." she assured the girl, giving her a comforting smile, one that always made madison feel at home.

"why does grandma not like it though?" the girl inquired, pushing away a piece of curly hair that fell in front of her face.

the woman shrugged again, "i'm not sure, mama."

madison thought about what she was about to say, quite intelligent for being so little. she let a long moment pass, willing catherine to look up from her cookie dough once more. she had an expecting look on her face, like she knew madison was wanting to say something.

in that moment, paige made her way back. brand new, unopened, pack of cookie cutters in hand as she stopped in her tracks at the silence she walked in on. as if she knew this was meant to be a private conversation, she closed the door softly behind her, creeping slowly down the small corridor before she walked into the kitchen.

"can i call you mom? or would she get mad at that also."

catherine did a double take, not expecting madison to say that at all.

"what?" catherine asked, but she heard the girl loud and clear. her voice was soft, like that instantly made her fragile, and laced in confusion.

"can i call you mom?" the small girl repeated, her voice youthful and full of wonder, not understanding the deepness behind her words.

catherine didn't know it, but paige's face mimicked hers at the moment, glad she listened to her gut feeling about eavesdropping on their conversation.

"oh, mamita.." catherine started, oblivious to the feeling of tears welling up, "i don't.. you can't.." the woman tried, but she came up short. this meant so much to her—madison meant so much to her—but she knew she couldn't just let that happen without paige knowing, something so fragile. "paigey's your mom, okay?" her voice was gentle as she tried to deny the girl as softly as possible. "y'know, she makes your 'owies' feel better, and she reads you your favorite books to sleep, and she loves you."

"you do those things, cat."

the woman internally cursed how smart and aware the girl was. she really was smart.

catherine sighed, giving madison an unsure look. this was the first time she truly had no answer for the girls problems. madison looked back down at her half of the cookie dough, and catherine wasn't sure if she looked sad or not. "i do love you, though." she assured.

madison looked up, her face bright with a smile again. "you do?"

"more than i think i realize."

"what?"

"i just mean that i do really love you." the brunette explained to the girl, "and i love being here with you and paigey, and helping you grow.." she trailed off momentarily, "and i wanna be best friends forever."

"promise we'll be friends forever?" madison asked the woman next to her genuinely, like she'd be afraid that she would disappear if she didn't.

catherine nodded, her face contorting as she fought back tears. "yeah," she nodded, her voice cracking as she reached to pull the girl into a hug. "of course."

they hugged for a moment, catherine doing everything in her power to not cry—or at least let these tears fall—before madison spoke again. "i love you too, cat."

well, so much for not letting the tears fall. the woman wondered if it would be obvious that she had started to cry, immediately reaching to wipe her tears away, sniffling back any snot that dared to leave her nose.

paige stood down the small corridor, once again mimicking catherine's emotions. they were too alike, sometimes, wiping at her own tears. her heart was full and simultaneously hurting. madison cared for catherine more than her small mind could comprehend, and to think that catherine would never be more than a friend (to her or to madison) devastated her to no end.

the sound of the oven beeping took her out of her thoughts, and catherine's comment after that. "where's paigey? the ovens ready for the cookies."

the blonde quickly tiptoed back to the door, opening it loudly this time before shutting it like normal, acting like she had just strolled in. walking in, she found the girls like she left them.

"cookie cutters have arrived," she announced.

"i call the christmas tree ones!" madison called.

˚✧.*

"cat, it's not turning red." madison spoke aloud her dilemma to the woman beside her, mixing away at the pink frosting that she intended to be red. "is it because the frosting is white?"

the brunette nodded, "that's right, you'd need something stronger to make it red."

madison sat back, huffing at all of the work she put in for no outcome. "boo."

catherine just grinned at the girl, then turning to the other side to catch paige really focused on her cookie design. her brows were furrowed and she had been quiet for a good minute now.

"you're serious 'bout that cookie."

paige nodded, still focused as she half answered. "gotta be precise." she mumbled.

peering over to catch paige's.. artwork, catherine snorted lightly.

"what?" paige challenged.

"he looks wonky." the woman admitted about the snowman shaped cookie.

"you look wonky." the blonde insulted back, to which catherine gasped dramatically.

"take that back!"

"aight, aight, i'm sorry." paige apologizes.

catherine should've known better than to think she was being serious, though.

"it's fi—" the brunette cut herself off at the feeling of paige's finger dragging green colored frosting down her nose.

catherine gasped as madison broke out into fits of laughter, and paige awaited her next move. she didn't pay too much attention though because as soon as she started to laugh, catherine was grabbing the bowl of bright, pink frosting madison was once working on and smearing some down the woman's cheek.

the two stared at each other momentarily before going all in.

their faces and arms were covered in different colors of frosting as they continued to fight one another with the sugary substance. even poor madison was eventually pulled onto the battlefield, though she took it like a champ, laughing all the way to the finish line.

"cat!" the blonde giggled, catherine clearly winning their impromptu food fight.

˚✧.*

their frosting fight didn't last too long before madison started crying about getting some in her eye. soon, catherine was wiping her whole face off with a rag and reminding her of her bed time.

"alright, mama, go hop in the shower and head to bed." the brunette instructed once she wiped the last bit of baby blue frosting off of madison's face.

madison was about to protest, but a sudden wave of sleepiness washed over her, and the sound of a yawn leaving her lips rather than an argument was more than enough reason to take the loss.

paige stood their patiently, watching the way the two of them interacted. she thought about much their bond meant to her. how if madison asked to call anyone else their mom, she would immediately feel jealous, or hurt. but not catherine. something about that felt right. it made sense to her.

the blonde wished her daughter a goodnight, leaning down to place a kiss to the top of her head, praying catherine didn't miss any extra frosting in her hair that would be crusted by the morning.

as madison walked off, catherine turned to find paige as messy as she left her, definitely being the sole winner of their frosting match. she giggled once more, the same rag in her hand coming up to start wiping at her face.

"how's it feel to lose?"

"i don't know, i've never lost before in my life." paige answered dramatically, turning her head to help catherine out with her cleanup.

though that didn't last long, the woman before her deciding to throw the rag at her chest, leaving her to clean herself up. "i'm done with you."

the blonde just laughed as she started at her face again, wiping off the streaks of pink as catherine went to wet another rag, cleaning herself up now.

they stood their in comfortable silence as they wiped away any evidence of their childish behavior, paige being the first to finish. she watched catherine wipe at her face, and noticed how she kept missing this one small, spec of bright green frosting that landed just below her bottom lip over and over again.

"can i.." paige attempted, her hand coming up to rest against the woman's face. her thumb swiftly swiped against catherine's plump, bottom lip.

catherine's breath hitched in her throat momentarily, that being the most intimate thing to happen to her in years. every touch they shared today was more than she was used to, and it was beginning to turn her on.

on instinct, catherine slightly caught her bottom lip between her teeth, still looking up towards the slightly taller blonde.

the air was stuffy all of the sudden, neither one of them willing to move or speak first.

they shared a look of understanding—like they both knew what just happened, how the air shifted, and how their eyes were suddenly darker—and it was too late to try to brush it off without acknowledging it.

the feeling of paige's gaze sent chills down the brunette's spine. cocking an eyebrow at her, catherine waited for her to say anything. at this point, she was waiting for her to make a move.

though, she wasn't sure these feelings she kept denying were being reciprocated.

the moment came and went with no verbal communication for a long, quiet minute.

"there, you.. sorry, you just kept missing it." the blonde finally spoke, her hand finally dropping from the woman's face and into her pockets as she felt the sweat begin to pool in her palms. she wondered if catherine could feel it, and it caused her cheeks to grow red.

"oh, uh, thank you."

another long moment of silence washed over them, the tension in the air begging for either of them to speak.

"do you, uh, wanna stay and.. catch up?" paige asked, a tone catherine would only describe as shy in her words, one she had never heard from paige.

catherine was about to say no, attempting to run away from her feelings once again. and then, she heard the unfortunate tone of her best friends voice in her head. "you're not over chris and that's why you don't want to accept that you like paige."

catherine knew she was over that part of her life. and she knew she wanted paige. she needed to stop running. paige had been nothing but sweet and caring to her. and there was something about her that was different. something she'd never experienced or felt with anyone ever before. whether it be just a friendship or something more, catherine knew she didn't want to let the woman go, for she'd grown immensely attached to her and madison.

maybe it took molly's pushy attitude, or having to go so many days apart, but she had finally started to accept it.

she really did like paige.

"yeah.. yeah, i'd love to." catherine spoke breathless, nodding softly.

paige's smile in return was nothing short of the definition of giddy.

chapter sixteen: it's kinda hot.

˚✧.*

the two women were having a great night together, catching up about their weeks apart, and more in depth now that madison wasn't present for it. they shared their feelings about the adversity they were met with, paige more than catherine by a long shot. catherine was a great shoulder to lean on for paige, and paige knew she wouldn't let her be down for long. like when she offered to show her an interpretive dance to some christmas tunes to get a laugh out of her.

paige was sprawled out on her living room couch, sinking into the dark grey cushions, a random blanket balled up behind her head to act like a makeshift pillow. the room was dim, only illuminated by the warm lamp in the corner and the t.v. right in front of her.

a smile tugged at her lips as she watched the show catherine was putting on in front of her. the woman was still clad in her christmas pajama pants, still sad deep down that paige wouldn't match with her for the time being. a half empty wine glass sat comfortably in her hand as she danced, paige praying to god that she didn't spill any of it on her nice carpets.

"okay, and then you do this.. 'feliz navidad.'" the brunette sang dramatically, pacing the living room, her bare feet shuffling against the soft carpet beneath her.

paige just snorted, closing her eyes momentarily as she shook her head at the ridiculousness in front of her. a look of adoration played on her face like she was entranced, grinning at catherine. "no way you're doing this right now."

catherine totally dismissed her statement, her focus now on the blonde before her. the woman inched closer to her, eventually letting her palms rest against the small coffee table separating them right now. she leaned in closer, examining paige. her face must've replicated the curiosity in her mind, because paige's brows quickly furrowed, nervous at why the energy had just shifted, almost pulling back when catherine leaned in. "what?"

catherine's face softened instantly at her words, grinning down at paige. half thinking about what she would say next, she shook her head. "your eyes look so pretty in this lighting."

that was only part of their activities for the night. they shared the cookies they made earlier, sure to not eat too many so madison could enjoy some the next day, trading in their alcohol for a cold glass of milk (paige going the extra mile and making hers chocolate).

they dared one another to go outside into the cold, snowy storrs night with no jacket on to see who could last the longest—spoiler alert, it was paige.

and the other made catherine question whether or not she wanted want to runaway all over again.

paige was hovering over the light purple suitcase she had just hauled onto her clean sheets, rummaging through the clothes and accessories she had in there from her trip to montana that week. she knew if she didn't tackle it now, she never would.

her knees lightly tapped against the black bed frame each time she leaned in to pull out an item of clothing, folding them semi-neatly if they were clean or throwing it into her hamper if the opposite. she focused in on this little task, leaving her and catherine to sit in comfortable silence outside of the christmas music they could hear still playing in the living room.

the woman looked up from her chore to find catherine slowly walking around her room, arms crossed naturally over her chest. a smile played on her plump lips as she took in all the little details paige encouragingly incorporating into her small, personal space: pictures and polaroids of her loved ones framed or hung up along her off white wall and dark dresser, her small book collection of strictly romance novels that rested comfortably on her minimalistic bookshelf that azzi got her into, her choice of dark blue bedding that had a small uconn husky specifically stitched into the left corner of it—everything.

"you're so cute." the brunette called out from the other side of the bed, which made paige look up quickly. her eyes would have widened and her stomach would have dropped had she not caught catherine looking at a picture of her when she was about seven years old, sporting a clearly oversized football jersey. that quickly calmed her thoughts.

"thanks." the blonde chuckled out, looking back down at the last few pieces of items she had to return to her living space from her luggage.

catherine continued to snoop, really taking in every picture paige had hung up on her dresser. she recognized the woman's teammates in a lot of them, and a woman in one that she assumed to be paige's mom. they had the same smile. and she couldn't help but notice the one of her and madison sitting together at the park near the woman's condo.

it was a selfie catherine took a little over a month ago that she had sent to paige as a mid day update, having known she probably wouldn't have seen her daughter that day.

it made her heart flutter. she really was apart of their lives now, and she played an important role. and something about seeing her face in a framed photo with her favorite person in the whole world in the bedroom of her other favorite person (in the whole world) sort of solidified that in her mind.

but, what really got her was a picture of paige and madison right after the girl was born. it was an intimate photo, one paige probably didn't show everybody she ever met or would talk about madison to. she was holding newborn madison, sunk into her hospital bed and gown, smiling down at her daughter. it brought tears to catherine's eyes, gasping lightly.

"oh.." her voice was soft, genuine. paige looked up, wondering what photo catherine was looking at now. but, by her reaction, she almost knew which one. "que lindas.." the woman spoke out loud with her native tongue, complimenting the girls in the picture, picking up the framed photo to examine closer.

paige was about to ask what that meant, but the other question that had been on her mind quite a lot poked first. "where's your accent from?"

catherine looked up from the picture in her hands, gently placing it back into its respective place. she cleared her throat so her words didn't come out as small as they wanted. "puerto rico.." she trailed off, cheeks growing a light shade of red that looked almost dark pink against her skin. "you can hear it?"

the blonde shrugged, lips pursing as she thought to herself. "it's faint. comes out a little when you speak spanish."

catherine began to fight with herself mentally, hating that anybody could hear it. to her, it sounded bad, out of place. she needed to watch what she would say. but being around paige and madison just felt so comfortable and normal she would not even think twice about half the things she said or did. "god, that's embarrassing."

paige shrugged once more, disagreeing with her statement, shaking her head. "it's kinda hot."

the woman simply laughed, true and genuine, throwing her head back once in amusement. those were honestly the last words she expected to hear from her.

"fuck, are you drunk?" she asked seriously, though she was still chuckling. something about paige saying that to her face completely sober just didn't add up in her mind, especially knowing how she was when she was under the influence.

"not anymore. wine isn't as strong as i thought."

shaking her head, trying to distract them both from that comment, mainly so she wouldn't blush, catherine started to brew together a joking insult to lighten the mood. "weird. for such a big person, you're such a lightweight."

"what the fuck do you mean 'big person'?" the blonde asked, jokingly offended, as she slid the now empty suitcase off of her bed, rolling it over to an open corner in her room.

catherine scoffed like it wasn't an obvious fact, hands coming up to rest on her exposed waist. "jeez, p, i mean—two dirty shirley's and you're gone."

"you're literally a liar!" paige countered, voice high pitched, unable to believe the playful teasing coming her way. she made her way over to catherine, sitting at the edge of her bed.

catherine's brows shot up, a challenging look on her face. "should i remind you of the first night we met."

"cat, you swore we wouldn't talk about it." paige warned, a finger coming up to hang in the air like it would pause the woman's thoughts, make her forget about what she was about to say. "plus, you put double shots." she explained to her defense.

however, catherine didn't hear any of that, a playful grin on her face as she thought about the fire she was going to start.

slightly inching towards the blonde, who was now fully sat at the edge of her bed, legs spread apart just a little, her feet planted on the ground, her voice dramatically mimicked paiges. "'you have such a great body, cat.'"

the woman simply shook her head, not willing to let her laugh come out. and she prayed that the heat now rising through her body at the reminders of how she first felt

for catherine wouldn't show up against her pale cheeks, her palms already growing sweaty.

"'mm, cat, that's such a cute name.'" the brunette continued, determined to get paige to crack. though this time, instead of trying to sound like paige, she put on her best, funny impression of a seductive voice, this making paige even more embarrassed.

"catherine!" paige pulled out the full name, begging her to stop. she couldn't believe this was happening.

"ah, cat, come meet me in the bathroom."

the blonde finally laughed out loud, shaking her head back and forth, waving a hand in the space between the two. "i didn't say that, you freak."

catherine scoffed, "me the freak? can you even recall the name of the girl you actually hooked up with in the bathroom that night?" she challenged once again.

to which paige had no answer for her, dismissing her completely. "oh, you wanna know about my sex life?" she challenged. "very personal."

the brunette rolled her eyes at her dismissal, though she was actually want to hear about her sex life, prompting her next response. "yeah, actually."

paige just shook her head, her turn to dismiss catherine, "get outta here.. acting like i was thirsting over you or sum."

"you so were."

paige's tongue met her front teeth, sucking against them and looking away, hiding her embarrassment. "was not. i'm just a nice person, thought you shoulda known."

catherine rolled her eyes, attempting to turn back and face the army of photos she had been observing. then, suddenly, a wave of confidence she didn't normally feel unless she was working the bar took over. though, it didn't come out as confident, more so just bold. especially since she was shyly looking away. "what else, then?"

paige furrowed her brows, taking a sip of the chocolate milk she had been lugging around with her all night, before reaching over to leave it on the nightstand where her lamp was, that being their only source of light. smacking the taste against her tongue one time, she asked, "'what else' what?"

maybe she got too ahead of herself. it could've been the wine from earlier, or the undeniable signs throughout their day together that they were both feeling the same, but she wanted to know for sure. she needed to know. "what else do you think."

even paige was unfamiliar with this kind of attitude from catherine, the shift in her tone and attitude clear as day. it was the kind that attracted her to the woman the first night they met. it made her cheeks grow hot, though it could've just been the wine. or maybe that was just an excuse. she wasn't sure what she wanted her mind to think.

"'bout you?" the woman asked, her tone more confident though she was nervous, both her and catherine's body language and tone of voice contradicting how they felt inside.

catherine simply nodded with a light hum. "mhm."

"for real?" paige asked again, and catherine nodded once more. she was genuinely curious now.

"i mean.. you're great with maddie." she started, her sweaty palms now feeling like pools the more she thought about her feelings for catherine in depth. for a moment, she clasped her hands together, before ultimately opting to let them fall at her sides, holding herself up against the soft bedding.

catherine wanted to roll her eyes, probably a reaction from the anxiety she was starting to feel. paige simply had to have more to say than that. and if she didn't—if all paige saw her as was a caregiver to madison—then catherine needed to reevaluate her feelings.

the brunette simply just cleared her throat softly, stepping back to lean against the dresser behind her. "that all?"

the blonde gently shook her head, soft eyes looking at the woman before her. "you're.. genuine."

catherine nodded, willing paige to keep going. to fulfill the need she was feeling. 'just say it' she begged internally.

"and smart. and caring." paige continued.

"that's it?" the woman asked one more time, though it came out more desperate and needy than whiny, her tone completely giving her away. paige playing hard to get was only further stressing out catherine.

paige quirked an eyebrow as her eyes shifted, something in them turning dark and catherine couldn't help but notice. her lips tugged into a small smirk, and her voice dropped an octave or two. "what do you want me to say?"

her voice was teasing, but not the way catherine was familiar with. no, something much more dangerous, intense and intimate. one that would send her home thinking about it for days and cursing herself for feeling so turned on by it.

and suddenly that need for paige—in her mind, her heart, and another place that need not be mentioned—was even closer to being satisfied.

the way she looked right now, the way she spoke, it was everything catherine had ever needed. she needed her. she wanted paige to stop playing. to just say how she felt. it was hypocritical because she herself couldn't even do it, but paige's hesitation only psyched her out more.

catherine took a deep breath, needing to steady her thoughts. they were going far too left, she needed to ground herself. but, man, was it hard. she sighed before she shook her head, "nothing.." she admitted, allowing their moment to die, turning back towards the dark colored dresser to finish up her snooping.

paige's face dropped at that, thinking they were finally about to get somewhere. that either of them were about to break, reveal the obvious. she then wondered why she herself hadn't made any moves yet. though she thought she was being the most obvious out of the two—and catherine only being obvious because she wasn't aware of how clearly she was showing her feelings—why couldn't she make herself tell catherine how she felt?

maybe she didn't want to mess anything up. catherine was consistent. something- someone in her life, in madison's life, that would always be there. and how she was with madison, their bond, it was like no other. a real, genuine connection that they shared that even paige herself couldn't wrap her head around. she couldn't possibly ruin that.

then again, what if something better came from this? paige had never even taken the time to think about settling down, though she knew she'd have to, and she'd want to one day, especially not so young and so fresh into her career. but, thoughts like these left her pondering. left her hoping.

"tell me." paige insisted, not willing to let this moment, their moment, vanish.

"paige.." the brunette trailed off, shaking her head lightly, turning on her heel to face the woman. she regretted the boldness she was feeling earlier and what it lead her to do. now, things felt more real. though it had all gone mostly unspoken, it was pretty clear. "you know i can't."

"why not?" paige pushed. this was the farthest they had ever gotten, and considering this was almost nothing, she had to keep trying. "c'mon, cat."

"it's not that easy." the woman spoke matter of factly, trying to hide how she felt with a plain face. paige could always see right through her, though.

"it can be." she stood from her spot on the bed, inching towards catherine. catherine's eyes followed paige, trailing up once she was fully standing, those few inches she had on her feeling a lot more powerful in this setting.

catherine's arms folded over her chest naturally, eyes still following the blonde coming closer, and closer. she was sure paige could hear her breath hitch in her chest, like she knew exactly what to expect.

in a swift, smooth motion, paige allowed her hand to creep up to catherine's face. slightly calloused fingers came up to hold her cheek, the blonde praying that her hands weren't still sweaty. thumb swiping against her cheekbone, she admired her face. that damn face that always made her melt. never leaving her mind, no matter what she did. her long fingers stretched across the woman's cheek, her hand sliding slightly upward, gently scratching against her scalp.

catherine's eyes shut instinctively at paige's touch, something about this new feeling already so comfortable, leaning into her. the woman sighed with a hum, one paige wanted to place as a soft moan vibrating in the back of her throat. she then let her arms drop from her chest, a gesture that was now symbolic, almost like how she was slowly letting her walls down.

"fuck, stop running from me." the woman pleaded, eyes soft, her tone hushed and raw, though it was meant to be endearing.

she didn't want catherine to disappear again. after their week apart, and the period when catherine was m.i.a. for a brief two weeks, it was the last thing she'd ever want. she couldn't handle catherine not being in her life, not even for a little bit. she wanted catherine around for everything, all the time, for the rest of her and madison's life.

catherine frowned. she couldn't see, her eyes still closed, but she could hear how emotional paige was just from those words. her tone, needy and affectionate, it made her knees weak.

"cat?" paige spoke gently. catherine's eyes, now doe, fluttered open, looking up at paige through her lashes. a small pout lied on her lips and she couldn't help but feel small, childish. paige was breaking down her walls, and fast, and she didn't know what to do.

their eyes met, and catherine knew paige was asking her a question through them. she wanted her to say something, anything.

but alas, catherine was running, after deliberately being asked not to.

"i don't know what to say." the brunette admitted, a frown playing on her plump lips. sad at how bad she was at not only accepting her feelings, but understanding them and being able to express them. catherine sighed, looking away from the blonde before her. "maybe we should call it a night. i'll sleep on the c—"

fortunately, catherine could never finish that statement.

paige's soft lips had met catherine's in a hushed and hurried manner, not wanting to hear the next excuse catherine was doing to ride with this time. not wanting to let her feelings for catherine go no where. not wanting to let their moment go.

the blonde had leaned down into the kiss, pulling catherine into her more and more, tilting her head up just slightly. her one hand rested comfortably between her cheek and the back of her head, while her free one opted to fall to her waist.

catherine's hands fell to paige's waist, still secured in the hoodie she had worn traveling back to storrs earlier that day. she wasn't sure if she wanted to smile into her or pull back.

the brunette was surprised to find herself kissing back in the first place, normally being the type to freeze up. the taste of the wine on her tongue and the chocolate milk on paige's creating an odd but addictive taste.

the kiss was enough to make her mind go mush, and almost completely forget about what she was about to say in the first place. however, it wasn't yet strong enough to keep her anxiety at bay.

pulling away almost frantically, catherine wondered. "fuck, what're you doing?" the woman asked, breathless.

the blonde just looked at her, a look in her eyes catherine has definitely never seen before, not willing to move her hands off of her.

"shutting you up." paige stated, matter of factly, just as out of breath, before she pulled catherine into her again.

authors note!

the things i'd do for some chocolate milk right now. anyways,

EEEEEEKKKKKKK!!!

finally, i've been dying for them to kiss for forever. it's about fucking time—now fuck😛 ugh honestly though i'm so excited, i just wanna write them for the rest of my life, im emotionally attached and invested LMAO

but, as per usually, tell me all of your thoughts! i know i always say this, but your comments are my favorite, and they give me so much motivation!!

thank you for reading! love yall!🩷

- mari 🫧

7.4k words.

[fandomnerd9602]

Only You

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

It all began when your doe-human mate Wanda skipped happily into the kitchen, her mind focused on asking you one singular question.

You were listening to Wanda’s favorite song on your Amazon dot.

Only you can make this world seem right

Only you can make the darkness bright

Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do

And fill my heart with love for only you

“Dance with me, detka!” She giggles as she takes your hand. The two of you sway to the music.

“Detka,” she smiled at you, “will you marry me?”

The question caught you off guard but happily off guard, “y-yes.”

“Good!” Your antler adorned mate hugged you tight and kissed you gently. “I want to marry you.”

“When do you want to tie the knot?”

“Tie the knot? Why would we do that? I wanna marry you.” She giggles, thinking that you were making some weird joke.

You and her didn’t talk about it much on the way to the Sanctuary but you found Wanda happily running around to the other hybrids, telling them the good news.

“I’m getting married! I’m marrying my amazing mate!!” She practically ran all the way around the Sanctuary grounds.

Natasha was practically laughing her wolf tail off as Wanda ran in. “I heard.” The red head wolf hybrid laughed, “can I be your maid of honor?”

“Sure!” Wanda giggles.

“Why do you suddenly want to be married?”

“I love my detka and I want to marry them.” Wanda found herself wistfully explaining. “I wanna spend my life with Y/N, I want to go to sleep in their arms every night, I wanna…”

“What?” Natasha’s tail wagged, “come on buddy, you can tell me”

“I want to have little deer babies.”

“Oh you scandalous doe!” Natasha giggled, earning a blush from Wanda.

“But I don’t know if I’m ready for kids yet” Wanda’s tail dropped a little, she sits down on her friend’s bean bag chair, “I still miss my boys”

Natasha gets down on her knees and hugs her friend tight. “Take your time. There’s no need to rush into a marriage. (Y/N) loves you and will understand”

Wanda couldn’t help but smile.

Meanwhile you took an early lunch and went with Yelena to a jewelry store you had your eye on.

“Why did you ask me to come with you and not sestra?” The blond wolf hybrid bemoaned.

“Because Natasha is with Wanda and I don’t want my mate to know what I’m up to. And I need you to keep watch as I browse the store.” You stepped into the store as Yelena kept watch.

You found the perfect ring. It was a gold band designed to look like interlocking vines and leaves with a simple diamond adorned at its center. You were just about to purchase it when suddenly Yelena tackled you to the ground.

“They’re here!” Yelena dragged you behind some tables. You looked under the table to see a familiar pair of legs and tails walking into the shop.

Natasha and Wanda walked in, happy as could be.

“Which one says I want to be your forever mate?” Wanda asked as she approached the wedding bands section.

“Any one of them, that’s the whole point.” Natasha smirked before a familiar scent caught her nostrils. You and Yelena.

She dropped to her knees and came face to face with the two of you. You gestured for her to stay quiet.

“What are you…you were gonna buy a ring?!” Natasha whisper-yelled, kind of happy and excited too. You hold up the ring you selected, Natasha smirked, “oh that’s very lovey but I don’t like you that way.”

“Steer her to another store, Fifi!” Yelena retorted.

“Fifi? Funny coming from you, sestra!” The two wolf sisters began fighting. You silently separated them.

“Gals, please this is the love of my life and I don’t want to ruin her special moment” you quietly begged them.

“I found it! The perfect engagement ring!!” Wanda called out with a giddy laugh.

Natasha quickly ran over and saw a simple band that looked like two antlers intertwined. Wanda looked to her friend with pleading eyes. Natasha peeked back to be sure that you didn’t see it. You could not.

“I-I don’t have any…” Wanda began to say.

Natasha gave a wave of her hand, “I’ll cover it.”

“Thank you” Wanda hugged her wolf pal tight.

“Just name your first daughter after me” Natasha said jokingly.

“Deal!”

The two bought the ring and left. You and Yelena got up from your hiding spot and approached the register. The cashier was practically laughing, “I take it your gal had the same idea?”

“Great minds,” you shrugged. Yelena stifled a laugh.

An hour or so later, Wanda was back in her friend’s den on the Sanctuary grounds, admiring the ring.

“Now you just need to find the perfect time to propose” Natasha smiled.

The sound of an aux cord plugging in caught Natasha’s wolf ears.

Only you can make this world seem right

Only you can make the darkness bright

Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do

And fill my heart with love for only you

Wanda rose from her seat, tears beginning to form in her eyes. It was yours and her song. Natasha peered out the den’s entry and smiled.

“You might wanna see this,” her wolf pal smiled.

Wanda walked out to see the Sanctuary gazebo decorated in Edison bulb lights and roses. Against the setting Sun, it looked heavenly.

And there under the gazebo roof was you, standing there with a smile on your face.

Wanda walked up the gazebo stairs slowly, tears of joy flowing down her face. You took her hands in yours.

“I love you Wanda Maximoff” you began. “I wanna spend each and every day of the rest of my life with you”

Wanda giggled.

“I wanna hold you when you’re hurting. And kiss you when you need a little love. I wanna raise a family with you and I wanna be there for you when we find your boys. And I’m gonna love you and them forever.”

“I love you.” Wanda whispered, “forever and ever”

You got to your knees and produced the ring, Wanda gasped. “Wanda, my doe, my love, my mate, will you marry me?”

Wanda got to her knees and pulled out the ring she got for you, “only if you will marry me”

“Yes” you smiled, tears forming in your own eyes.

“Yes!” She cries back. “Yes! Yes! You and only you!!!”

You slide the ring on her finger and she slides the ring on yours. A feeling of pure happiness takes over Wanda as she launches herself at you, knocking you to the wooden floor. She kisses you repeatedly, over and over, giggling against your lips as you held her tight.

The staff and other hybrids laughed and cheered as the two of you found each other lost in your moment. Natasha smiled and her tail swished back and forth happily.

It all started with a simple question. And it turned into a moment that you and Wanda would treasure forever. And you’d eventually tell it to Billy and Tommy: the tale of how you and Wanda ended up proposing to each other.

Tags @lifespectator @russianredassassin @revanshand @julieromanoff @multi-fandom-enjoyer @family-house-of-m @holiday-house-of-m @iiconicsfan25 @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7

[hopelessrromantix]

kinktober day 10 boot riding

daddy kink, amab reader yes ill post the missing days i swear sjdkf

cis women dni

The longer you stayed at a party, the more boring it got.

Sure, getting drunk and high and fucking around with your classmates was a good time. But after hours of huddling together with sweaty drugged up teenagers and having generic music blasted into your ears, it got a bit boring.

But Billy always found a way to make it more entertaining. Normally by pulling off a rather impressive keg stand. For once, he’d offered to be the designated driver (mostly because you’d done it for the past four parties and refused to do it again), so you were downing your second drink, talking to some junior you barely knew. The buzz of a high was clouding your head, though it wasn’t enough to impair your judgment.

But apparently your boyfriend felt like pissing you off tonight.

Eventually the junior wandered off, probably to flirt with someone interested. Billy, on the other hand, was chatting up some girl from your math class. You didn’t remember her name, but you most certainly remembered the way she talked to Billy.

She gave a fake laugh, making sure to lean forward and give him a decent view of her cleavage. Not that you blamed her for trying to sleep with your boyfriend. Billy was pretty, and it’s not like she knew he had a boyfriend. So no, you didn’t hold any resentment toward the girl.

Billy, on the other hand, was in a world of hurt.

He had every chance to turn her down. Every chance to make up some half-assed excuse or just plain tell her he wasn’t into it. But no. He joked and gave her some cheesy pick-up line. The brat even had the nerve to look your way while he was doing so, giving you a wink.

You watched for a minute longer, waiting for him to make some excuse to leave. But when it was obvious he had no plans of doing so, you decided to step in for him.

“C’mon Hargrove, you’re my ride home.” Luckily your head was clear enough to make walking out easy.

Billy frowned, trying to look as disappointed as possible. “Already? But I was having fun!” The girl next to him looked sad as well, as if begging you to let him stay longer.

“Sorry, I gotta get up early tomorrow,” You said, shrugging. Tomorrow was Saturday, neither you nor Billy had anything to do. But she didn’t need to know that.

“Fine, buzzkill.”

Billy, tap dancing on your last nerve, gave the girl a wink, causing her to let out an airy giggle. You rolled your eyes, stomping out of the house. You could hear Billy mumble what was most certainly a sarcastic comment under his breath.

You sat in the passenger seat the second he opened the door, waiting as he slid into the driver’s seat a second later.

After a second of him realizing you weren’t going to speak, he started driving, the music from the party fading into the background as he did so.

“Your mom and that bastard home?” You knew the answer was no. He’d made quite a big deal about getting the house to himself while Neil dragged his step-mom and Max on a ‘family outing’. Even with Max asking, Billy was left home alone.

“No, why?” He asked, glancing over to you before his eyes returned to the road. He was perfectly aware of ‘why’, you knew that much.

“Gonna let me stay over, pretty boy?” You asked, your tone low. He nodded, quickly taking a turn to head toward his house.

The trip was short and Billy got out of the car almost immediately after you arrived. You chuckled at how eager he was, fumbling with his keys in an attempt to get in quicker.

You followed closely, heading to Billy’s room without much hesitation.

The second you got in, you closed the door, pressing Billy up against a wall.

“You got some fuckin’ nerve, Hargrove,” you spoke quietly and quickly, though you knew he heard you from how he shivered. “You tryna get my attention, or just tryna whore around with some poor girl, hm?”

He shook his head rapidly, gulping down a breath.

Billy tried his hand at being a brat often. Always teasing you, getting your attention in public. But the second you were behind closed doors, he practically melted.

“Words, baby boy.”

“No, Daddy.”

God he knew what buttons to press.

“Then why were you flirting?” You spoke softly, loving how his eyes glazed over with lust when you did so. “Giving her hope for no reason. That just seems mean, baby.”

He made a noise of disagreement, shaking his head again. “Didn’t mean to, just wanted your attention.”

You chuckled. “No, you knew exactly what you were doing.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you slammed your lips into his before he could. You took over the kiss quickly. His arms twined around your neck, one of yours on his hip and the other gripping his hair. You gave a soft tug to his hair, forcing a loud moan out of his throat.

You slotted one thigh between his legs, giving him the chance to messily rut against you. Both your pants were tight, his jeans no doubt uncomfortable at this point.

“Pleeease just fuck me.” He was practically begging, arms tightening around you. “Please, I’m sorry for flirting with her, I won’t do it again.”

You both knew damn well he’d do it again.

“I don’t think I feel like forgiving you yet, baby.” He huffed at your words, hips still moving against your clothed thigh.

“How about this,” You suggested. You placed your hands on his shoulders, lowering him to his knees and placing your boot between his legs. “You cum in under two minutes, and I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t remember your damn name.”

He nodded rapidly, head collapsing into your leg.

He moved his hands towards his jeans, only stopping when you firmly questioned what he was doing.

"I can't use my hands?" He asked, looking slightly hopeful. As if he'd get off that easy.

“If you really want me to fuck you, you can cum like this.”

He paused for a moment. “Like ‘this’?”

You smirked, tilting his head up slightly with one finger. “You think you can cum in your jeans for me?”

He shivered, nodding fervently.

"Good boy."

He started off slow, moving his hips against the firm leather of your boot. It was just enough stimulation for his sensitive cock. He was burying his face into your jeans, mouthing at your dick over the fabric. You just let him, watching as he desperately tried to get you to force your cock down his throat.

"One minute left." He whimpered.

His thrusts sped up, messily humping your boot in an attempt to get off. Barely decipherable mumbles of "please" "Daddy" and "more" tumbled out his lips, the words jumbled together and high pitched.

"You gonna cum, whore?" You asked, spitting out the term as if it was his name. He moaned, nodding.

"Please can I? Please Daddy? Wanna cum for you so you'll fuck me, please?"

You'd barely said yes before he buried his face into your thigh, hips stuttering and slowing. Cum slowly seeped through the fabric of his boxers, and suddenly he was thankful you'd waited until he was home to ruin him.

"Good job handsome," you said, leaving down and placing a surprisingly soft kiss on his forehead. "You get your reward now."

He was practically buzzing already.

[scentedpepper]

Attempted Vehicular Manslaughter

BILLY HARGROVE X MALE READER

Summary: Max Mayfield hosts a pool party.

Content Warnings: Use of the F-slur, Use of Queer in a derogatory manner, Injuries, Verbal Abuse, Abusive Household Dynamics, Reader makes a 'if I wanna kms' joke

Other Pairings: Nancy Wheeler x Male Reader, Jonathan Byers x Male Reader, Max Mayfeild x Male Reader, Mike Wheeler x Male Reader

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Oh brother we got a chatterbox

Had a dream about this ya'll

Readers a little sassy

Reader has a little brother

Reader has a bit of savior complex

Readers also kinda impulsive?

It's 3 am

_________________________________________

The grass was rough and patchy in the backyard, filled to the brim with wilted daisies and weeds crawling through the sprinklers. It was hardly worth a note of much consideration, as there had been nothing of great importance to discuss. There were many trees boarding the house. Pine or oak, maybe. And one dying cherry tree that was a stand alone in the yard. That was about the extent of anything substantial past the old silver fence that matched your shoes.

Nearest the house, under the shade, were several lawn chairs designated for the so-called "chaperones". The older brothers and sisters of the tweens. But really, it was nothing more than a cover-up.

Something to appease the parents' of the Hargrove house because Max knew it was odd to be friends with a group of kids the same age as her brother. Even her mother, who'd tried to remain impartial to any situation, narrowed her eyes and shifted her purse tighter when the suggestion of more than a couple 17 year old's parading around her house came.

Your mom was just happy you got along, let alone made some real friends outside the books, and encouraged the notion. More parental control, she reasoned. Less chances you were off with someone who intended on trouble.

Of course, all the shit about fighting monsters and being on the brink of death with these same friends wasn't factored in.

But no one besides them and the sheriff's deputy needed to know that.

The first time you had met the kids was, admittedly, what one would refer to as a kerfuffle. Riled up and trying to be dominant. Of course, because Billy was there, it spiraled even farther, and someone's head nearly got bashed into a rock.

That someone being you of obviously, after you'd been goaded into the fight and decided to step up. And boy, did Billy hate to lose. Hated being talked down to by a smaller kid who barely had pimples left on his face, let alone bulk.

You put up a good fight. You had a mean hit, especially the lick you gifted to Billy's chest, knocking the wind out of him when it connected. There was a bruise on his ribcage for days after and all the satisfaction he could possibly imagine at knowing it was from you.

But then he nearly killed you so, things turned sour rather quickly.

Which led to a rather impromptu welcome into the group of misfits, the lot of them. Unannounced and unexpected, you marched into the party after your small break down. Ready to be let in and accepted.

Finding out about the Upside Down was a mere accident.

You hadn't gone out of your way to befriend a group of children. Hadn't expected much in regards to friendship period even after getting your ass kicked by Billy Hargrove. Let alone a lifetime, one built from the shared experience of the horrors that lurk just underneath town, attached to one particular boy of the group.

But here you were. Standing in the backyard of Max's home like an idiot with the sun bearing down at your back. The late summer day nearly reached over 100 degrees as the clock neared the noon hour. Something you might have missed otherwise if it wasn't for the black analog watching you closely every time you renetered the house for a drink.

The main gaggle of kids swam and screamed every few seconds, trying to drag you into a half-baked game of Marco Polo that had the older Hawkins teens eyeing each other with concern.

You tapped the top of your can to ease the anxiety, looking around the edge of the yard again, past Max's mother, who waved awkwardly and would come around every so often, offering drinks or food to you, Nancy, and Jonathan.

"Nervous?" Jonathan prodded in his way, looking up from the half eaten sandwhich Will had taken two large bites from, making sure he had gotten his fill and packing it away when he received two big thumbs up from his little brother before he rentered the pool.

"Ah. " You leaned against the lawn chair, rolling your neck before looking over. "Expecting Billy to jump out from one of these corners, " you gesture towards the many hiding places you have spotted in the yard. "cause a scene. "

Nancy shifted uncomfortably, twisting her skirt slightly. "Not yet, at least. " She added while fidgeting with the button over the waist. "I thought he'd show up at least half-way through this thing. "

"Yeah, " you agreed, "thats why I'm–"

"On edge?" Jonathan filled in for you, a soft smile gracing his lips as Will looked over.

"Ready, he means. " Mike piped up, his hand was fully plunged into the cooler chest, blindly shifting around the ice as he looked over at the three.

Something in the tension held firm in the pit of your stomach, because the only times that this happened was whenever a confrontation was supposed to take place.

And judging from all the past events that had occurred, however mundane or fantastical they may be, this was probably going to end badly in more than just a couple of ways.

You'd managed to keep pretty calm in the past concerning Billy. Kept a level head about whatever shit he'd decided to cause that week. But something felt wrong today. That air in your gut had been hard to shake.

And the fact he had yet to make an appearance so far, did very little in easing you. And apparently everyone else involved.

"Don't know what his fucking problem is. " You curse, sitting up in the chair, "Never waits long to start shit."

In fact, you can almost pinpoint the time he entered the premises, an excuse to blame him for the sudden tightening in your gut and the goosebumps on your skin. Yet, he hadn't entered the backyard once since he got home. He stayed holed up in his room the entire day and that much was evident every time you, or Nancy, or Jonathan or one of the kids entered the house and heard the rock music blasting from his bedroom.

He hadn't even made a shadow to have showed his face.

For hours you waited.

Hours of worry and unease ate away at your gut while the rest of the party commenced unhindered.

And yet, it seemed all but for nothing in the grand scheme of things. Because as the sun started to lower from its zenith, you and the rest grew more tired and eventually, the temperature started to cool to a point where splashing around in the pool was no longer appropriate.

The kids came clamoring out, dripping in more chemicals than water, screaming and laughing in the process. It was getting near the five hour mark by then.

Your mind was heavy when you stood up to go inside, nearly tripping when your eyes clashed with the eldest person in the home, the both of you freezing awkwardly in the middle of the walk.

Both you and Max's mother were silent in each others presence. Stoic if there was ever a word for it.

Neil always seemed to be staring off into nothing, zoned out to some far away place only those who drowned themselves in alcohol and other momentary pleasures existed. They didn't interact, besides maybe the occasional conversation starter, or nod in passing whenever a person came too close for an inch of comfort. Not unusual in your opinion of strained marriages.

You began to speak, went to get yourself out of this weird positioning you've seemed to found yourself in. But Susan beat you to it.

"Can you do me a favor?" She beckoned before turning around and trotting off into the kitchen. Already assuming you would listen. You usually did. There weren't any hidden agendas for her actions and nothing against you personally.

She held some power that you wished wasn't. You would take just about any job that required you to be away from the current obstacles of your personal life. But as she turned back to look at you with that indescribable air and knowing nod, she had beaten you.

"Whats up?" You replied, voice more gravely then you meant it to be as you walked up behind her. She was sticking something into the microwave.

"Bye, Y/N/N. " Nancy had emerged from the Hargrove bathroom when she stood on her toes to place a friendly kiss on your cheek before joining Jonathan.

"See ya, Nance. " You say as the dark haired girl glided away, passing a wave to Jonathan and then they were out the front door.

The house was mostly empty now with nearly all the kids back home, and Dustin and Max tucked away in her room, waiting for Dustin's mother. There was enough silence now that you were itching to leave. The house had settled quiet, but you couldn't describe it as comfortable. There was a ribbed blanket across the couch that had obviously been sat on by its dishelved look.

The TV was on but the volume had been lowered so much that you were better off listening to Billy's faint music from down the hall for entertainment.

Water rushed from somewhere on the other side of the house and the distinct slam of a door being pulled shut gave you the visual to what you were hearing. Your little brother, most likely. You'd seen him dip down the hallway like he was about to shit himself the moment Nancy exited the bathroom.

You shifted around, placing your backside agaisnt the counter as you found new things to look at. Languidly, you watched, senses picking out different things around the house to latch on to. The light green walls, the ugly brown patterns on the carpet, the hum of the refrigerator that, strangely enough, harbored no family photos, just magnets with various corny sayings.

Your eyes lingered on the fridge.

Everything here was simple. Blank like a fresh canvas of dry paint. Apart from the dishes left in the sink and the few items of clothing to be picked up off the ground, it felt oddly wrong for an occupied residence.

"Y/N?"

A shift in the environment rippled over your skin and something felt charged but not in a fearful sort of way. You're pulled from your small internal worry by the same woman from before.

"Billy hasn't come from his room all day, mind taking this to him?"

Susan's got a glass plate in her hand, slightly extended our towards you. It's filled at every turn with food she'd transfered from the tupperware after the ding of the microwave you hadn't quite heard.

That same gut feeling crawled up your insides again, but you blamed the way your throat tightened on the anxiety. Why it was something now and not earlier, you can't be sure.

But, if there's one thing you learned from movies and popular tv shows, it's never to interrupt the motherfucker when he's listening to rock. But, here's your excuse. So, with a small nod and the plate in your hand, you try to shake it all away.

Because the worst that could happen is you get your ass beat again.

Stepping up to the wood slated door gave your lungs a run for their money. It was as if all the air had been sucked from the atmosphere and the pressure collapsed the walls around you. Only breathing through your nose you shook the fear away with a raised fist to the door, clenched the plate in your opposite hand.

Bass rattled through the floor and past the wooden door, you're graced with the faint sounds of the guitar on the stereo. There were bits of vocals in the background, a baritone voice that spoke. And perhaps that was part of the appeal. Your fingers danced on the metal that resided at the entrance. It felt cool on your skin.

You knocked again after a few seconds. Nothing sounded on the other side of the door but you were still unsure if Billy could hear you above the music. Maybe he'd turn it down once his father returned from whatever place he'd ventured off to in the night. But you didn't exactly have that time to be waiting around, despite your own fathers late tendencies.

You took a moment to think if you should just leave the plate on the floor, let him pick it up, and try to call a ride. You exhaled quickly, shifting your balance onto your other hip.

Before you even touched the doorknob with a single digit, the music turned down significantly and suddenly the atmosphere was more intense than you'd anticipated.

Which, was the new normal.

But, still.

Things felt off. The pressure in your bones caused your limbs to rise upward, to defend yourself, to at least put yourself in some position that wouldn't leave you open to attack.

For what?

You didn't know.

Because all Billy did was peer up at you from the crack in his door. Nothing significant yet his stare was nothing less than striking. Those blue things could put the oceans to shame, rivaling even the sky in its vivid colors. They were a mirror.

They shifted to the food, briefly. Then immediately returned back to you as the speaker could barely emit its sound.

You watched as the boy straightened, sighed and then opened the door wider, leaving the frame unguarded as he trailed off into his room.

The door held open but his gaze disappeared into the space on his mattress, and the music lowered a touch, no longer loud enough to break the door from its hinges but loud enough that Billy had to raise his voice over it to be properly heard.

You took a cautious step forward after staring at the boys backside, his attire didn't leave much to imagination but his half nude state was the least of your discernment seeing as one, you were fashioned the same way and two, Billy Hargrove was wordlessly inviting you into his room.

You thought maybe this was some kind of trick, a ploy to get you cornered, so your eyes danced over him in brief, consistent glances as you proceeded forward.

He was sitting by his window, a cigarette stuck between his two fingers as he silently stared off into the the darkness the world outside offered.

It was strange. Seemingly off guard as he propped the knee of one leg against the window, giving a free range to his left to lean. Hair swept over the shoulder to show part of his sharp jawline, which dimmed only with each intake of the deadly nicotine.

The room was bland save for a few posters, white walls, brown dresser pressed against a corner and a night stand tucked at the opposite. Clothes were tossed about, either on the floor or hung up half assed on something that you could only guess as a proper hanger.

His nightstand was covered in trash and empty beer cans and you thought of shoving them away before deciding to place the plate on his bed instead.

You spared him a last glance after the action, perplexed by the fact he was just so— quiet. Which, was certainly odd to everyone at least within half a mile from here. Usually the moment you entered his space, his bubble, he erupted like an animal defending its territory.

You decided not to push your luck. Because right now, it felt like the deadly cat across the African plains simply hadn't noticed you. And so your steps were as carefully placed as they had been when you entered. It was almost relaxing despite the looming feeling from the boys demeanor.

Billy felt a wave, a sort of ripple through the air as the presence of another remained in the room. He didn't bother to speak, only raised the unlit cigarette to his lips in a curious manner and took an unsteady puff, letting the wind carry the smoke out the screen. There was a storm, one he had sensed earlier but was hard to make out amongst the many things that had clouded his mind with anger.

Luckily, the only thing he could blame his outburst on earlier this morning was exhaustion, a clear sign of his lack of sleep from the night before which would easily explain his half dead posture and irritability that had pissed off nearly everyone around him.

Another explanation for his hideout in his room but one you couldn't quite understand.

You neared the exit when the floorboards creaked just as they had before and you almost wanted to freeze in your place. Like the cat would come pouncing now, mauling you to death.

"Not gonna make a show of it?" Came Billy's voice, it was low and calm but you caught the slight strain of it. As if he needed a clear of his throat to even be fully heard.

"A show of what?" You cast a glance over your shoulder, brows knit.

The blonde gestured with his lips, the subtle shift in his elbow drawing attention to the stick of tobacco. "I was waiting for some goddamn spectacle, L/N. "

"I don't know what you're talking about, Billy. " You sounded exasperated already and you stepped over a black shirt with a design you couldn't quite decipher from its crumpled up state. You made sure not to add anymore scratches to the ground and turned around, placing your back firmly against the door frame.

Billy's muscles became tense with the new body turned on him and he felt the wave again, the stirring of new energy entering the atmosphere.

But you had simply done so so that your back wasn't uncomfortably to him when you left.

"Whatever. " Was all Billy seemed to say before shutting you out, shoving that fucking piece of shit plate away from him. And in the split second your brain focused on how fast food was supposed to get cooled and not nearly three seconds after swallowing his cancer stick Billy must've caught the attention of the devil himself.

There was no denying the jagged yell, the shuffling in his voice like someone was gripping his head and holding it under water. You jumped away, eyes as wide as saucers as Billy's bedroom door flung open, smacking the adjacent wall with a loud slam that nearly cracked the plaster from the force.

And yet, his voice was a lot less louder than his grand entrance. "Hey, shit face. Why don't you make yourself useful instead of sitting around all day, having our guests, " he gestured to you, "bring you your own fucking food. "

You moved a step back, almost tripping on your own footing from your struggle to balance yourself without the solid sense of feeling. Your eyes darted frantically between the two people within your viewing distance, and you could barely make out Susan a few feet away who had her hand clasped on Max's shoulder.

She was ushering her daughter to their bedroom but Max refused, and the red head stood beside the door with a wary look.

"Get up. And give him a ride home. " Another gesture to you and when you looked towards the entrance of Billy's room again Neil was taking up the entire frame.

"That's really not–" You began but stopped as both of the parents turned to look at you with an appalled look. It was nothing personal but you doubted Billy even knew where you lived and the only time you ever rode with him was pervious to when he'd beat your ass.

"My dad–" You tried again.

"He won't answer the phone, much less pick you up. " Susan jumped in, though the hesitation on her voice made you doubt if that was her plan all along. "Your brother got a ride with the Henderson's. "

"Put on a shirt, stop acting like a balless queer, and go. " Again Neil thrust a drawn out, mocking tone, like his son couldn't comprehend basic sentences and he stepped out of the way to make room for your departure.

Billy's got a storm brewing in his expression and there was one moment where his eyes met yours and you were sure you'd drown in all the hate there was.

You didn't get a chance to argue about the amount of time it would take to get there and about how you would manage on your own. In fact, something in Max's eyes told you it'd be better not to. So you pressed your lips against each other as Billy grabbed his keys and pushed past you.

You watched Billy stalk past everyone, a gruff 'Yes, Sir' leaving his lips that you almost hadn't heard as he passed his father.

You exited the room shortly after, not sparing Susan or Neil a goodbye as you gingerly took your shirt from Max's hands.

She made a comment, something quietly spoken that not even your heightened hearing could make out over Billy's obnoxious slamming of the front door that he knew he would pay for later. You watched the young girl as she returned to her room.

Silence welcomed you when you first stepped into the driveway, stretching across the cement with a sense of uncomfortablity that didn't seem to fade as you entered the car and were met with a chilling quiet.

Billy didnt look at you as his ignition roared to life, nor did he speak to you as he pulled out the drive way. He stared ahead, chin down as he leaned just slightly forward, supporting an arm on the side door, palm rubbing soothing circles into his temple.

He was going 20 above the speed limit. You assumed you two were trying to get as far away from the house as you could. But, the further into the neighborhood you went, the lower the numbers on the radio dropped and the more the car filled with quiet music.

Hargrove was completely out of it, lost in some other space where you weren't welcome. And the car had filled with a tension you doubted he'd meant to cause, but given his current mood, you didn't think he could avoid it either.

Despite this, you chose to press yourself against the door with a turned head, the muscles in your body growing taut with discomfort the more you tried to make it seem as if you weren't even of existence in the passenger seat.

You wanted out of the car.

That much you could draw from your mind when you found that the speedometer was at 55 and increasing.

"Billy. " You tore your gaze from the meter, flickering over the silent boy who was intent on looking only at the road ahead.

No answer. His jaw was tightened and set. There were lines buried in the skin.

"Billy. " Your voice held a certain firmness that he didn't quite like.

Silence still and he tightened his grip on the leather, knuckles turning white. The streetlights were getting ready to cast those obnoxious eyes and like a perfect chain of events the little hairs of a certain song burst from the speakers.

His hand, fast with anger, whipped across the volume dial, ceasing the tune and replacing it with the rumble of the engine.

An inhale, then a single word. "What. "

Somehow you think that's the opposite of an answer. It's barely a question. With the tone of voice he held he shouldn't have phrased it that way because he clearly didn't want to know what you had to say, what you thought.

"Stop the car. I'll walk. " It was simple enough and on any normal occasion Billy might've done just that rather than wasting his gas on you. But tonight was different, and Billy, seemingly fueled by his own agitation, just blew past the stop sign and sent the speed at which the Camaro rolled up with you at dangerous levels.

The car vibrated lightly beneath you, air whistling as you tore through the neighborhood at an alarming rate.

"Oh for fucks sake. " It was a mutter to yourself because you hadn't exactly expected the boy to be cooperative but you didn't think you'd be forced to jump out of a moving car again. Yet, here you were; gripping the handle, poised like a god damn animal, eyeing the road as you built up your goddamned gallantry.

You didn't catch the surprise on Billy's face when he noticed you push the door open against the harsh winds.

Fuck it.

You fell with ease and with a soft oof! your limbs were somehow able to stand the blow rather than becoming mangled chunks of meat against the pavement. You could hear the car skidding to a stop five houses down as you took a moment to roll around in your own pain.

Your shirt had rode up on your torso, back pressed against the heated road as your skin made contact with the tar. You had a few scrapes along your spine, one over the delicate hip bone. And you were pretty sure the road had peeled the skin on your forearm all the way down to the elbow but hey, at least it wasn't your fucking face.

A few drops of blood gathered on a pebble directly to your right. Your nose gave a sharp twinge of pain.

"Dick. " You said that in regards to him, for every aspect of his personality. Because Billy Hargrove was what others considered a giant dick.

If you hadn't suspected it before you were sure when you heard the wheels start to turn again, the shift of a gear springing the Camaro back to life. And then footsteps, louder than the car itself, were slapping against the asphalt.

"Are you out of your fucking mind!?" You raised your head, eyes coming to focus on Billy's very fucking pissed form towering above you. Arms crossed defensively, face twisted with irritation as he glared down at you with something close to— well it looked a lot like anger but Billy only knew one of three emotions and that was definitely not concern.

"Fuck you. " You managed through a puddle of blood in your mouth that you promptly spit out, only having realized it was there the moment it began forming bubbles when you tried to speak.

Billy's voice stuttered in reply. "What the fuck is your problem? Do you want to fucking kill yourself or something?! "

"Better than death by fucking vehicular manslaughter on the account of Billy fucking Hargrove. " You muttered, hands pressing into the road to give you leverage when you attempt to stand up. Your body immediately yells a no to this action and you lay right back down on the road.

"What?" Billy is completely distraught in the sense that his brain has seemed to burst due the sheer incomprability of your actions.

"Oh I don't know, Billy, maybe the next time I feel like killing myself I'll call you and we'll go a hundred miles an hour off the fucking side of a cliff. "

The boys eyebrows were nearly touching his hairline as he stared at you.

"Watch me die like an old school movie where they're surrounded by bubbles and colors and shit. "

You spit the last remnants of blood from your mouth and Hargroves face ran red and blue. "Can you fucking shut the fuck up and get up already before anyone sees you. " He demanded, practically dancing around your form. Arms stretched out with a stance that reminded you very much of a gymnast.

"No. No. I think I'll lay here for a sec. " You roll onto your backside, a groan in your voice, arms folding over your body, posed like a corpse.

Billy stops in his antics and stares at you incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"Very serious, yes. " Your voice almost comes out like a sigh.

Billy reels, and if it wasn't for the fact your eyes were sealed shut now, you'd be able to see the absolute bewilderment of the teen as he stood there in the middle of the empty street. Arms half poised over you but not touching your form. As if he didn't know what do with you.

"...Get up. " He demands, standing straight again, his hands on his waist. This time he's not commanding you in that cold manner. There's a little rise to his voice like he's beginning to lose his patience, his forehead furrowing with anger.

You take another few moments to enjoy the silence. You swear you hear a cicada or something squeak from a window sill nearby and the air felt cooler than it has in weeks. Until it all becomes overbearing and your chest burns from a lack of oxygen. You didn't even realize you were holding your breath.

You open an eye to test the waters.

Billy's scowling now, a hand on his hip and the other resting across his forehead in disbelief. At you or the situation, you weren't entirely sure. Both you imagined. But there was a certain look on his face like he was ready to pull some kind of theatric, a reaction, throw a punch to knock some sense into you but ultimately decided against it.

"Where do you live?" He asked the question in such a manner that you couldn't help but be wary of his intentions.

"...Why?" You asked, the caution obvious in your voice. As he loomed over you like that... it wasn't doing a whole lot of trust building.

You almost hear the growl of frustration from his throat as he began rocking on the balls of his feet, hands swinging like he wasn't able to grab hold of something. "So we can fucking go. Before someone calls the fucking cops. "

You still hesitated.

"Before I fuck you up so hard they'll have to identify you by your fucking sperm. " Okay there were his threats. But they lacked the substance of his normal demeanor. He didn't seem overly angry like he typically did but still, his body gave some kind of look as though he couldn't quite will himself to control the way it trembled with adrenaline.

"Nice one, but you're not my type. " Another bite and a second of Billy looking absolutely befuddled as he tried to keep his voice down. His glare had weakened but only because he was taken off guard, and his cocky expression fell to a tight line.

You watched as he took a moment to look around the empty street. The lights weren't too bright so you couldn't make out that typical, telltale flush of his skin that you've grown accustomed to in his anger.

Your eyes flickered across his face, scanning every inch like a beacon. Curiously, you looked at him the same way he always did. Maybe you'd find some sort of answer hidden somewhere behind his icy blues.

The look on his face was strange. Pensive.

"Get up, Y/N. " An even voice this time. Calming maybe. And to think, all it took was a slightly gay comment in order to simmer the violent bastard.

You half wondered where the fag-bashing erratic moron went. Maybe he'd packed his bags and runaway. You could hope.

You did more than that infact, you put that right there on your bucket list, and with a frown, more for yourself than anything else, you looked away from the boy above you.

"Fine. Alright. " Your movements were stiff with pain as you moved to push yourself up by the palms of your hand, your arms trembling beneath the weight. The skin on your hand and forearm burned with a stinging sensation.

Billy watched at your pathetic attempts, a sneer or two on his face but he didn't seem to offer much help until it'd all get too pathetic and he had to reach out and aid you.

"Idiot. " His lip curled as his palm met yours, his fingers holding onto the back of your hand tight as possible.

You stumbled slightly upon becoming fully upright, teetering against Billy for a moment as you took a minute to regain your ground.

"Yeah, well whose fucking fault is that. " You've developed a lovely habit of hissing through your teeth with an unnecessary amount of spite. You're surprised Billy hasn't knocked you on your ass and left you for dead by now.

He scoffs, trying to put as much distance between the two of you while still having your arm linked through his, helping you along. To the ignorant eye, you suppose this would look platonic enough but anyone that knew the two of you well would certainly think otherwise.

Billy's all rigid limbs and stunted movements. Even when you'd finally started to walk on your own and your grip on his arm began to slack, he held firm with a grip like a vise.

And by the time you're at the passenger's side, he's shoving you into the seat and you nearly knock your head on the top of car.

You didn't bother giving a remark when he practically seethed through his teeth, slamming the door in your face. He strode around the car like a man on a mission.

"If you go more than 5 over the speed limit—" You felt the warning die on your tongue when you saw the look of pure anger etched onto Billy's face.

"You'll jump out. Yeah. " His hand came down on the shifter. "Got it. "

There was a part of your brain that you didn't recognize that was screaming in terror, completely and totally convinced you were going to die tonight at the hands of the ever brooding Billy Hargrove.

But much to your surprise, Billy maintains that 5 mile leway the entire drive home even when there's barely a car in the streets. He hadn't muttered a single word since throwing his angry body in the driver's seat.

Instead, he'd cranked up the music all the way as if it'd some how compensate for the lack of speed and conversation, not that there would be much to say anyway.

You hadn't bothered looking at him. He hadn't bothered looking at you. But somehow, in one way or another, the feeling as if you were watching each other was even more abundant in the silence.

Whatever hostility had remained from Billy's mood in the first half of the night had receded back into his depths for later. Though the occasional frown on his face never quite leaves no matter what, his eyes are softer now.

And by the time he's pulling into the dirt driveway of your home, the soft beams of amber and yellow from the streetlights dimly hitting half his face, there's no sign of anger or any real semblance of emotion. It's oddly quiet, and the only thing to really speak up was the steady rumble of the engine.

"Thanks. " You beckon quickly and with reluctantance as you awkwardly grabbed at the door handle, trying to turn as quickly as you could while still maintaining balance. Anything just to get out of his car and away from the guy.

"Y/N. " He voices and the moment you pull at the handle you come to find it's resistance. A dull tingle shoots up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck raises with tension.

You turn, facing the teen who kept an unconcerned façade. He was a calm still pond with blue eyes flickering like small waves in the face of a strong wind, and although most times they were ice and snow that held such a cold, unforgiving passion of arrogance, there were times they were the ripples of a breeze.

Now was one of those times.

"Don't go around pulling fucking stunts like that. "

That was definitely closer to a warning than anything else that had come from his lips the entirety of the night.

"This is coming from the guy who beat my ass into the concrete two months ago. " And at this point, you were too exhausted to be filled with spite for the boy.

His posture falters and not just figuratively. There's a shift to the way he's sitting but the flicker of his eyes remains. Even with you half turned, his stare remained. In fact, it seems to have gotten all the more intense.

"What's it to you anyway? " The way he tilted his head might have been endearing in another life. Now, it seemed to hold meaning, the way a predator stalks its prey with such observant behavior before sinking its teeth into its jugular.

His gaze on you could have bored into your brain, much like a drill for how quick your defenses seemed to start dissolving.

He'd always looked at you like this. Whether or not you caught his eyes on you was by chance.

In class, in the halls, it was all the same to him. He'd get one look and that was about all it took. He'd stare with the attention like an interrogation, as if trying to decode some secret behind your stature, trying to pick you apart bit by bit with those watchful baby blue's of his. And if there was no easy route to doing that he'd dig his little meat hooks into you until there was.

You were all he'd focus on. Not you in particular. More so the idea of you.

Whatever that meant.

Of course the only instance Billy looked at you without fail, hard looked at you like the blue was about to spill out of his eyes and swallow you up like a tsunami, was when he was a little tipsy or riled up with heat and fury. But like most of Billy's emotions, they were very intense. Too intense for something as simple as just a fucking stare. It almost gave you the illusion of a dangerous threat that made your skin buzz with goosebumps, your nerves rattling in their sockets.

He was doing the same now, except, the only difference was that he wasn't pissed faced or smoldering with alcohol this time. In the confines of his car, beneath the yellow white shine of the nearby street lights, he couldn't tear his gaze away even if you begged.

Billy was the sort of thing to stop you mid thought when you glance and feel your limbs freeze, suddenly petrified with all this uneasiness and sudden confusion as to why there was only one sort of definition to put on why you felt such things whenever his presence was met with a hundred paces of distance.

"I..." He starts but his voice falls flat. Something beyond frustration, something between anger and concern. The sort of look that told you he was working something out in his mind. Or he just couldn't find the proper word choice that didn't end in an f-bomb at the end of his sentence.

He's still staring, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours, like a candle wick in the night. Wavering. Stuttering. Inconsistent uncertainty.

Like he's just asking for guidance to fill his barren vocabulary, the words never existing like an undiscovered civilization in his brain, unable to conjure up the sort of speech that would get him what he wanted.

An abrupt sense of panic washed over you. You inhaled sharply and you didn't let the breath go until your next move was placed in front of you like a chess piece on the board and you couldn't take the time to think out any future moves on your part.

All of your attention was pulled to him, focused entirely. The way he moved, the way he breathed, it left a tingling feeling trailing behind him like some faint breeze of emotion.

Everything stilled, it was him and you. Him. And you.

And he's just looking at you like that. Mouth halfway opened and the noise of shallow heavy breaths were the only sounds falling from his lips while he's looking at you all wide-eyed, like some fresh-faced virgin whose never seen one in person before.

You cursed yourself. Cursed the wind. Cursed the ground. Cursed Billy and his stupid face. And every corner of his stupid car and everything else about him. You can curse the sun but that'd probably be a step too far. Especially the moment you met those watchful pools of sea foam.

Fucking Billy Hargrove and his stupid, fucking car and his even more stupid...

Lips.

Lips and teeth.

Teeth, pale pink lips.

Blue eyes, long lashes.

Stupid fucking curly hair.

The sort of curly where it always managed to get you by the tips, tangling its brambles in your fingers and refusing to let go.

Which is why the second Billy made a small noise– not even really a noise, it's a breath. A single exhale that hits your nose, hits you the way nothing has before, and it causes a wave of heat to wash over you, overtaking your senses.

You grab those curls, your fingers entwine them and his breath is alot heavier, alot hotter as his hands grip tightly onto your shirt, like he's a frightened child.

His lips are wet.

He's messy.

Sloppy.

Like he's never kissed before in his life. Lips that keep moving, and his tongue is too sensitive, too eager.

Every sharp inhale of breath reeks of sweat and chlorine.

There's no time to stop and make sense of the situation.

He's scrambling over the middle console, desperate hands gripping on your collar and in any other scenario, this would've been the step before he plummeted his fist into your face. But there's hardly anything suggesting that. At least not without the time to see the tiny trail of tears lining Billy's eyes, glossing his cheeks.

He tastes as he looks. Like liquid gold with his tongue rubbing against yours in a hot mass of burning motion. And any semblance of a rational train of thought was chucked out the window.

There was enough room in the front seat for a teenage boy and then some. Billy Hargrove was not such a teenage boy. There was barely enough room to shift and breathe and wriggle around in this half straddle.

You can faintly hear a heavy car pass over a mound in the road, an off balance tire or perhaps someone forgot to inflate it and the uneven troll on the road, not entirely deafening, but it's there. And Billy hears it and he jumps from you, leg grazing the shifter, head knocking into the top of the roof.

His ears are steaming red as he all but falls into the driver's seat, face flustered and hair slightly disheveled.

He's looking around like a wild animal caught in a trap and he can't escape, eyes flickering back and forth; from the gearshift all the way to the rear view mirror and then to your face.

Pupils shot open, dark and wide, and a hand coming up to press on his forehead, eyes squinting.

"Billy‐ " It's a start, but it doesn't stay long enough to be deemed a full sentence, not with his name lingering on your lips while you try to swallow down the heat in the pit of your stomach. Billy's looking at you, breathing heavy.

"Get out. " He mutters forcefully, the lock clicks open and when his hand comes up to rub across his face, it's shaking.

"Billy. " More insistent this time.

He looks a few shades redder than when he was before, his head snaps back to meet your stare, hair curling beneath his ears in a gentle mess, curls threatening to fall into his face.

"Get out!" His voice pitches, breaks into something close to a sob and Billy swings his arm wildly, fist connecting with the steering wheel and there's a loud honk as a warning before he shouts again. "Get the fuck out, you fucking faggot!" His voice reverberates across the entire neighborhood, shattering your ear drums in the process.

There's dogs barking from far away, probably due to the horn.

You hesitated but only for a moment before swinging the door open, just barely missing the opportunity to knock the shit out of your leg by the time Billy decided to slam down his foot on the pedal. The door shuts fast. The car speeds off before it has the chance.

You watched him drive away, with just as much intensity as the boy inside the car watched you in the rearview.

As your house began to shrink away into the distance, and the glare of the car grew smaller and smaller. You could hardly see those searing blue eyes the way you did in class. Though this time, instead of a look of hatred or scorn, it was one of fear and dread.

And maybe, just maybe, if there were more light shining on his face, it would reflect a thousand scenarios playing on his cheeks. Not that you would've been able to tell from all the way out here.

"Fuck. "