#god i wish this happened on a day when i was in a better brain state. what a final fuckin blow.

[beabnormal24]

Quick Carbon wip just got inspired and wanted to write it.

“George.” Alex hisses, pressing his phone against his cheek until he’s sure he could mold into it.

He can still feel his heart racing from the run he had made up the stairs. He hasn’t really gone to the gym in a while, so it could be that, or maybe it’s just the way his brain had felt like melting out of his ears when he had laid eyes on the labelled boxes in the hall, first, and a muscular back near the doorman box, after.

“Alexander.” George hisses back, “why are we whispering?”

“Carlos Sainz, George.” Alex says, just before realising that, probably, saying a name without putting it in a properly complete sentence doesn’t make any logical sense. “I just- I just saw him- in the hall- fuck”

“Did you run up the stairs?” George asks, sounding way too amused. “I told you, you should take your working out more seriously at your age. Again, I can talk with Rita and find a spot for you in my morning Pilates classes, they would do you only good I am sure.”

“George, Carlos Sainz, in my- in my building.” Alex repeats, frantically looking for his keys in the utter mess of his jacket’s pockets.

He was pretty sure he was already holding them as he got in the hall, but then they seemed to disappear just as he was getting up the stairs, skipping the elevator because he surely wouldn’t stay there with Carlos Sainz just a few feet away.

Perhaps he just mechanically put them back in his pocket, he wouldn’t put it past himself after seeing Carlos freaking Sainz in the same place as himself. Talking to Alex’s doorman, of all people.

“Ah, I see, I see.” George says slowly, “But weren’t you watching him playing in San Diego just, like, a few days ago? Ah these rich people and their private jets, our poor sustainability!”

“It was last week, George.” Alex says, moving his phone to the other shoulder as he gets both his hands finally free. “Do you really not listen to me at all when I talk about golf?”

George is suspiciously silent for a second too long. “Eh, no.” He says, sincerely. “That being said. I don’t see the big deal with him being in the same building as you. You’re obsessed with the guy, just make sure to not act weird and all.”

“Weird?” Alex whispers, but it almost sounds like a screech to his own ears. “Yeah, no, I am perfectly normal about this what are you saying?”

“I can literally hear your brain exploding from here.”

“Shut up.”

“You called me.”

“And I am regretting it very much.” Alex says, stuffing his hand in the back pocket of his jeans just to come out, once again, empty handed. God, why does this have to happen now of all times? He is in desperate need of a coffee and, even better, a long cold shower to properly wrap around what he just saw. “Ah, my keys-“

There’s a tap on his shoulder and the only reason why Alex manages to not jump out of his skin is that he’s way too distracted with something like avoiding having to change all his locks because of his own idiocy.

As he turns around ready to tell somebody off, though, he desperately wishes his soul had actually made the jump.

“Looking for these?” Carlos Sainz says, dangling Alex’s keys in front of his face with a smirk. Distantly, Alex is pretty sure his phone just fell to the ground. “You dropped them in the hall, I can see it’s an habit.” Carlos Sainz jokes.

Because, as it stands, Carlos Sainz is in front of him making a joke about how Alex seems to have an habit of dropping his personal stuff around like an idiot.

Which is precisely the best and worst thing that could ever possibly happen to him.

In a remote part of his barely functioning brain, Alex knows that he should probably laugh to not look like a complete weirdo - which is exactly what George had advised him of, amazing.

But all that actually manages to come out of his mouth is just a strangled noise as his mind goes through two things, not necessarily in that order: fuck he is hotter than on TV and fuck he is shorter than I thought.

“Is everything-“

“Yes!” Alex rushes to say, taking the offered keys out of Carlos’ hands before remembering that he has been raised with manners. “Thank you, I am- a bit distracted yes.”

“That’s okay.” Carlos says, reassuring. His smile is almost blinding, way too gentle than it should be when offered to, well, a complete stranger.

Alex can’t exactly miss the way Carlos’ eyes seem to take in the sight of him, raking from the top of his head to the worn points of his Converse. He probably looks ridiculous compared to the well-put and squeaky clean shoes on Carlos’ feet, but in his defence, they don’t have a dressing code at work, and he is no professional golfer.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, new neighbour.” Carlos says, and when his eyes meet Alex’s there’s a glint in them he can’t exactly decipher. “I am Carlos Sainz, but I seemed to notice you already know that.”

Oh.

Alex is fucked.

[talkorsomething]

want to cut my hair again like you wouldn't believe. What are the possible consequences of going bald

[orcelito]

It's just never a good thing if my dad calls at an abnormal time

[st4rymoon]

✭ 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ✭

𝟏𝟖+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 | 𝐀𝐜𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬 | 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: a long read btw, arguing, impact play, academic rivals, slow burn, rough sex, hate sex, language, p in v, make out sesh, unprotected sex, annoying Miguel, reader has some anger issues on the low, breath play, teasing, sexual tension, semi-mean dom, after care

・Part two! Part Three!

“WHAT?” You yelled, both your professor and Miguel looking at you in shock after your professor asked you for a one on one with the both of you.

You could scoff at the way Miguel’s lips curled up into a satisfied smile “Well you and Miguel are my best students, so it would only make sense for the both of you to do a presentation together. I can only imagine the things the both of you will come up with!” Your annoyingly sweet professor clapped.

“ wouldn’t it be better if both of us did our own? We coul-“ You tried to negotiate “Ah ah! I said group project! Now Miguel, do you have anything to say about this? Any complaints like this one over here?”

You sighed as Miguel spoke “Nope, I’d be happy to work with someone in the same range as me” he cockily spoke “Very funny, now since we’ve got this all sorted, go and talk” she smiled, shooing you and Miguel out of the classroom.

You scoffed as you pushed past Miguel “Aww come on sweetheart, you hate me that much?” He cooed following close behind you.

“Shut it” you huffed. Getting paired with Miguel was possibly the worst thing to happen since your high school prom. Miguel was the bane of your existence since the first year of college.

Of course, his good looks and brains were attractive but sooner or later you realized he was going to be a pain in your ass for the next few months of class. You met him in your first biology class, everything was going well until the first exam of the class.

Your professor said the class average was low B’s and high C’s but out of the whole class, two people got perfect scores. Could you guess who the two were?

You and Miguel.

Both of you looked at each other from across the class with the same look in your eyes saying ‘Someone beat me?’. Of course, you both got the same 100% grade but both of you were so used to being the only one on top of the class that this was more than just a score. But your egos.

You both were fully aware to not be in each other's way, only seeing each other when studying at the same place or in class. All was going well for the next 2 exams, but the 3rd one came and you couldn’t believe it.

You got a 98% and Miguel has a perfect 100%. You could see him smile at the results and you hated the professor right now. Why the hell would he show the class? It’s embarrassing, to say the least.

Miguel gave you a wink as you looked his way ever so slightly. Bursting out of the class, you could feel him behind you “2 points down” he chuckled. You wish you would’ve punched him.

And ever since then, he’s made it his life mission to ruin your day. You never got anything other than 100% again, you busted your ass studying just so he couldn’t rub it in.

“I’ll make sure you can’t get us two points down” Miguel hummed as he kept up at your pace. You could feel your blood boiling, god he’s such an asshole. “I’ll email you if I need help” you scoffed.

“Can I get your number? I won’t get the email since my inbox is always spamming” Miguel lied with a smile “fine” you muttered out your number and walked off before he could stop you.

‘Real classy, I wasn’t done talking’ popped up on your screen “Well I am” you messaged back. You were well aware it was Miguel and you didn’t need him to piss you off more than usual.

The second you stepped into your apartment you let out a relieved sigh. Oh, how you missed this place in these insufferable hours. You put on some comfy panties and an oversized hoodie.

You were laid in your living room, soft carpet under you as you finished up some of the slides for your presentation. The knock at your door was the last thing you needed, you groaned in agony as you hated the thought of getting up from your warm spot.

The knocking grew and so did your patience’s “IM COMING!” You yelled. You pulled the door open and lo and behold, Miguel. “For fuck sake man” you whined.

“Glad to see you too!” He smiled as he pushed past you with books in hand. Miguel was born with the talent of hiding his emotions, that talent was most useful here.

He took a deep breath as you opened the door. Your pretty thighs glowing under the baggy hoodie, hair a slight mess and the satisfying look of anger on your face could’ve made him harm.

“Excuse you” you hissed.

He plotted down next to your things and got straight to work. You stood in shock, did he just walk in like this was his house? “Well go ahead and get comfortable” you mocked as you slammed the door in annoyance.

“I am” he sighed as he stretched and leaned onto your couch.

The both of you bickered and sneered at each other the whole time you both worked but even then, the quality was always top-notch.

He didn’t like the way you formatted the information and you didn’t like how he took up a whole slide for a few sentences but both of you compromised. After a few hours, things were less tense, and both of you got used to each other.

“So what do you plan on doing with your major?” You asked, legs crossed and some candy in your mouth as you questioned him “Biochemist” he nodded “It’s always been a passion of mine”

“You sure do have the brains for it” you chuckled. “You don’t with the 98%” he teased. You rolled your eyes, your mood now soured as you remembered his shenanigans.

“Don’t start” you scoff as you get up to get some drinks “Hey hey I’m joking” he laughs, his hand stopping you from leaving as he holds your wrist “I know Sherlock, I’m going to get some drinks for us” you mutter with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he laughed awkwardly, his eyes watching as you grabbed two glasses of water. “So what about you?” Miguel asked “What are you doing with a chemistry major”

“Probably chemical engineering, I’m not sure yet” You shrugged as you handed him the cup. He nodded and watched you sit next to him. Miguel scooted a little closer making you stiffen, sure he was a pain in the ass but he’s sadly one of the most gorgeous guys you’ve seen.

You tried to ignore your thoughts each time he’d stretch and groan, his moans making you think about how he’d sound if it were from pleasure. He’d be vocal you thought.

“Let’s watch something on the TV” you awkwardly smiled as you grabbed the remote and turned on your TV, you laid on your stomach, forgetting you only had panties and a hoodie.

Miguel’s eyes watched you kick your feet up, your glowy legs looking perfect as you looked through whatever you were putting on.

He noticed the pink panties you had on, his tongue instinctively licking his bottom lip as he thought about how good you’d look on top of him. He can imagine it, tits in his face and pussy sleeving his cock as he fucked you full.

He was going to give himself a boner if he kept it up. He focused his eyes on the screen and sighed in relief as you sat back up. You put on your favorite show and sat next to Miguel “We’re almost done with the assignment which is good, how about a few more minutes of break and we get back to work?” You smiled. “Sure”

You felt his hand move behind you, his arm resting above the couch as he let out yet again another ‘stretch’ while his eyes looked at you through his peripheral, you chuckled. How cliche.

You smiled as you decided to make your cliche move. It was obvious there was tension between you two, whether that be anger or sexual, it didn’t matter. “Let me get more gummies” you hummed as you turned to the table beside you and arched your back slightly, an audible moan coming from behind you as your ass was on perfect display.

You sat back beside him, gummies in hand and an innocent look on your face as you offered him some. He scoffed, shaking his head and looking back at the TV. Your eyes widened as you noticed the thick bulge straining against his pants.

“Eyes up” Miguel cockily cooed as he watched your eyes closely. “I- I wasn’t-“You made a pathetic attempt to save yourself but he cut you off “Uh huh uh huh, I know” he mocked.

He smiled down at you with accomplishment, he finally made you shut up for once. “Not going to give me a snarky comeback?” He cooed. “Shut up already God, stop it” you hissed, your eyes rolling as you moved away from him.

“No no” Miguel’s voice made you shiver as his hand held your thigh “I’m playing” he pouted as he glared down at you. You could punch him right but instead, you did something you thought you’d never do.

You pushed him on the couch and slammed your lips on his. Miguel’s hands immediately wrapped around your waist, a loud moan spilling into your mouth as he finally tasted you.

It seemed like Miguel was waiting for you to do this, his hands ran up your thighs hungrily before he flipped you onto your back. You gasped as he spread your legs around his waist.

His behemoth of a body spread your legs wide as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. You tangled your fingers into his hair as both of you hungrily kissed each other.

The kisses were messy and rough, teeth nipping at skin and tongues lapping at each other like two animals in heat. None of you even said a word, just heavy breaths, moans, and pure lust.

Suddenly Miguel pulled back from your lips, his eyes glaring into yours as he hovered above you. You could feel yourself getting ready for some snarky comment as you watched his lips curve into a smile.

“You kissed me first”

You groaned as you pushed him off, his hands still on your hips as he flipped you back onto his lap “hey I’m not complaining, It’s just funny since I piss you of so much” he sighed. His palm moved up to your jaw, face brushing against his hand as you took in his warmth.

He watched you lean into his palm like a cat, his body heating up as he realized how small you look in his lap. Your thighs small compared to his but still plump and pretty.

“Can I kiss you again” you shyly asked slightly afraid that he’s reject. “You don’t have to ask me, just do it” Miguel hummed as he pulled you into a kiss.

The kisses were now more sensual and soft, both of you now grinding into each other. His hand curled onto the back of your neck; the other palm pinned behind your spine.

You were glued onto his chest as Miguel’s warmth filled your senses. You’ve never been so warm in your life, the feeling making you tingly as he held you as close as possible. It felt like nothing in the world could hurt you, you felt safe.

“Please” you whispered onto his lips. He tried to not make you mad but he loved seeing you angry “Please what?” He taunts, his lips hovering over your jaw and neck but never touching you.

“Mig don’t tease” you whined as you hit his chest lightly “I’m not, I just don’t know what you’re saying please for” his arms clinging around your waist as he takes in your sweet scent.

You decided to play your games “I want you inside me mig, want to show you how much I need you” you cooed, your hand running down his abdomen and stopping just above his bulge. His breath hitched at your words, he didn’t know if you were fucking with him or not.

“Oh yeah?” Miguel watched you with focused eyes, his hands running up the sides of your thighs and squeezing your ass “You want me to fuck some manners into you? That loud fucking mouth of yours is always pissing me off” he cooed.

Loud fucking mouth? Your hand went up to smack his face in anger but he caught your wrist before you could “Don’t even try it muñeca.” He sternly said “You won’t like what comes with that”

You angrily kissed him as he pressed you flush against his aching cock, his hands pull the baggy hoodie off your body leaving you in your matching panties and bra.

“Fuck” he whispered, hands on your waist as he took in the view he’s been dreaming of since the day he met you. The amount of times he’d imagine fucking your mouth until you shut up was concerning.

You pulled his shirt off in need, throwing it behind you as you ran your hands up his thick muscular chest. He hummed at your soft hands running up his skin.

“Sit up for me?” He mumbled against your skin as he kicked off his sweats. He smiled at how obediently you did as he said “You look prettier when you do as I say” Miguel mocked.

You could care less about his words as his calloused hands pulled your panties off in need “Just shut up and fuck me” you panted. Miguel smiled as he felt your lips pepper all over his jaw and onto his lips, he could see you were just as eager for him as he was for you.

“Beg” he blurted. You ignored him as you rubbed his cock between your folds, both of you letting out moans as you felt each other's warmth. Miguel seethed, arms pinning you up to his chest “Listen”

You hated that you got turned on by the fact that he now had you restricted with just one hand as the other held your jaw up “you want the guy you despise to fuck you? You tell me you hate me every time you see me but look so eager to fuck me”

You were tired of his teasing, you let out a desperate whine, you could see his cock spring up and his tip leaking precum. But like always, Miguel likes to rile you up.

“Beg” he repeated. “Please mig please, just stop teasing ok” you cried. “All you needed to listen to was this?” He purred, hands moving onto your hips as he thrusts into you.

Miguel let out a gruntled moan as he felt your warm wet walls hug him tight, his head falling back onto the couch as he finally felt your pussy squeeze him.

He watched your eyes squeeze shut while you let out the prettiest moans “f- fuck!” You cried, the stretch making you clench even tighter around him as he held you down to his lap.

His cock was fully buried inside you in one go, he’s the biggest you’ve had in every way. It was overwhelming feeling how full you were, you could feel his curves and the tip of his cock nudging at your cervix.

“Breath chula, r- relax” he sighed. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you nodded, you took a deep breath allowing you to make it easier for him to move. “That’s it” he hummed onto your shoulder.

It only took Miguel a few seconds for him to start fucking you onto his lap, your body shaping into his hands, allowing him to use your pussy like a flesh light.

“O- Mig mi-“ you whined out, you couldn’t explain what you were feeling. Your whole body was tingling in pleasure as he rammed into you with pure force. Maybe you did piss him off a lot.

“What? You c- can’t take it? Such a big fucking mouth but can’t take my dick?” He seethed. You let out a pathetic whine at his words, your mind completely fogged in pleasure as you took all of him.

Miguel’s eyes couldn’t leave your pussy, his eyebrows scrunched and his mouth agar as he watched your pussy struggling to take his size. He hissed as you pushed him onto the couch, using his shoulders for support as you bounced onto his lap.

Your pretty moans filled his ears as you took control. Miguel let you take control for a bit, he loved watching how eager you rode him. Your body bounces on his lap, wet sounds of skin slapping echoing into the room.

“Making such a fucking mess” he huffed with a smile on his face, although he was loving this, he wanted to see you completely vulnerable. He thought maybe he was a little sick for wanting to see someone who hated him so much completely ruined under him but he loved it.

You gasped as Miguel lifted you onto the ground, your back hit the soft carpet under you as he stayed buried inside you. “Gotta fuck that stupid little attitude out honey, always disrespecting me. You’re the only one who tries to push my buttons. I love it” he cooed.

Miguel’s calloused hands bend your legs to the side, giving him full access to your tight cunt. “Go- god shi- fuck!” Miguel panted, he was a complete fucking mess.

Sure Miguel’s fucked a few people in his life, but he had no idea if it was just the thought of fucking the life out of you or how perfect your body was for him. He convinced himself it was both.

You clawed and scratched at his chest, your eyes full of tears as he brutally pounded into your “m- Mig I-“You were even more fucked out than him. How couldn’t you?

You had no clue where he got his stamina from, it felt like he’d been fucking you for hours. “Can’t believe you tried to slap me, should I return the favor?” Miguel hissed.

You nodded to his surprise “Please” you whined. “You want me to hit you?” He was surprised by your plead. He knew you’d be a freak in the sheets but you were always so aggressive with him that he expected you to hit him for even suggesting it.

“You’re always a pain in my ass but you just want to be taken care of huh?… What? You need me to pound your pretty pussy out for you to treat me with some respect?”

You nodded eagerly, if you were being honest you couldn’t even take in his words. Your pussy clenched and throbbed around his fat cock in agony but you were taken by surprise when a slap landed on your face “Use your words” he hissed.

Almost immediately you cried “Yes yes! Miguel please I nee- need it, f- fuck ah!”

Miguel chuckled, his hips angled a bit higher which allowed him to hit the perfect stop. His hand flew around your throat, his hips pounding you onto the floor as he let out animalistic moans.

“M- Mig- ah fff- fuckk!” You cried. The restriction of your breathing mixed with his rough pounds caused orgasm hit you hard as your pussy throbbed around him, the tip of his cock nudging at your sweet spot continuously.

Miguel’s eyes rolled back as he felt your nails claw at his arms, your small hand wrapped around his wrist as he fucked you balls deep. His cock plunged into your messy cunt as his balls slapped onto you. “That’s I- that’s-“ he hissed.

He thought about pulling out for both of your sakes but he’d rather just buy you a plan B. “C- can I- inside?” He seethed his eyes burning into yours as you bounced to his thrusts.

You couldn’t get a word out but your legs wrapping around his waist and your nails digging into his back to pull him closer gave him the answer. His lips crashed onto yours as he spilled inside you, his moans spilling into your mouth as his fingers dug into your hips.

He’s never had an orgasm that hard, he was sweating and out of breath as he stilled inside you. The both of you cling onto each other in fear of either of you leaving but that was on the last of your minds.

Miguel lay beside you, his arms pulling you into his as he pressed a kiss onto your forehead. “Was I too rough?” He questioned with concern as he now fully took in how fucked out you looked. “No, it was perfect” you weakly muttered as you nuzzled into his chest.

Miguel sighed in relief as your sweaty body was pinned into his. “Where’s your bedroom?” He hummed as he began to lift you into his arms “left” you sighed as he carried you into your bedroom.

“Let me clean us up and then we can rest yeah? Unless you want me to leav-“

You cut him off before he couldn’t finish “Don’t leave. Please?.” You hummed a bit worried you sounded a little pathetic.

“Wasn’t planning on it love”

[voxslays]

MISTLETOE

Featuring >>> Lucifer, Alastor, Vox, Velvette, Valentino, & Charlie x Reader; In which, you kiss them under the mistletoe~

A/N: TY GUYS SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS! It means the world to me!

Lucifer

This man is shocked. It has been so long since he has been kissed—let alone under the mistletoe. The two of you are alone in the lobby when this happens, only adding the cozy holiday mood. He kisses back even more passionately.

Not only will Lucifer be talking, thinking, and dreaming of that kiss for weeks—if not months—he will be pulling you aside and growing more mistletoe around the hotel. This becomes a very frequent activity between the two of you.

He will be very sad once the holidays are over…no more kisses from hubby/wifey under the mistletoe…*sigh* but don’t worry, he WILL find a way...

Alastor

Is shocked and maybe a little uncomfortable…? Alastor is on the ace spectrum, which doesn’t necessarily mean he hates getting kisses from his S/O, but probably not long passionate ones. But let’s assume he does like it…he better.

If Alastor does approve of this ‘silly’ holiday tradition, he will never seek it out. He will simply expect you to do it. It’s like he thinks you can read his mind! (You can’t…unless you can?) After a while you find out that he actually does like it, after assuming otherwise. Why couldn’t the silly deer man just tell you??

This will not be the last kiss you share under the mistletoe. And hey, maybe if he is desperate enough, he will seek it out and pull you under the mistletoe!

Vox

I’d like to think that while yes, Vox is a man of the future, he can never forget his 50’s roots. He is a huge romantic, and completely believes in the old-fashioned idea of courting. That being said, he is not above making out with his S/O before marriage. In fact, that’s what makes it even more fun, or thats what he thinks.

I can see Vox being very festive, that being said, he would be all for the classic tradition of mistletoe. Say goodbye to your ability to speak, all your lips will be doing is kissing for the month of December. Good luck girlie.

Valentino

Oh man…girlie what is going on inside that brain of yours? *sigh* You will regret.

Before you can even pull Val under the mistletoe, he has already kissed you. This man may not even be that into the holidays. He doesn’t care though, even if he is. All he wants to do is make out and…yeah. You know what I mean.

Whenever the two of you kiss it always leads to something more. No little innocent pecks of the lips like with everyone else on this post. No this man makes sure you basically can’t even walk half the time! So I wish you the best girlie!

Velvette

Ah, the holidays, such a great way to get more money from hell’s capitalism. This stylish Brit is totally looking for inspiration. One day, she has a brilliant idea—to make a fashion line inspired by Christmas plants. God she’s so smart…right?

One day, while sewing the finishing details onto the mistletoe insipired dress—with real mistletoe—You walk in. There is one more mistletoe (leaf? Branch?) left. She pulls you close and holds the mistletoe above your heads as you kiss.

Will not openly talk about it—you are only for her eyes and ears—but will force you to wear the mistletoe gown in her runway show as a reminder of the night you shared together. Yeah, she may not talk about it, but you are never living it down.

Charlie

Definitely the most wholesome of everyone in the show. She is extremely innocent and could never think a single bad thought. Plus, she is the one who came up with the whole idea of celebrating Christmas at the hotel. She did so much research, and eventually found the tradition of mistletoe. She begs you to try it out with her.

Like Lucifer, she cannot get the moment of your guys’ kiss from out of her head. She will keep bringing it up in conversations. Like ‘I just love kissing under the mistletoe’ or ‘y/n and I kissed under the mistletoe last night.’

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

P.S. I Love You.

Summary: You suddenly receive letters that re open the wounds of grief. But they turn out for the better.

Warnings: ANGST, FLUFF, FLASHBACK

The call you hadn’t expected to receive came through your cell phone one hot, summer day in Charlotte. It changed the trajectory of your life from then on. A horrifying scream pierced the air, causing your mother to drop her coffee mug while sitting out in the yard, the ceramic glass shattering against cobblestone. When she’d found you in the kitchen, you were in the fetal position, body trembling as you wailed. She rushed to your aid, down on her knees with frantic eyes and a continuous chant of ‘what happened’ spilling from her lips.

“TERRY! HE’S GONE!”

The words didn’t seem real. When the tears came, hot and endless, you ached from the pain entering your world without the decency to knock first. Your mother’s words couldn’t be heard over your despair.

You cried as if your brain was being shredded from the inside. Emotional pain flowed out of your every pore. From your mouth came a cry so raw that even the eyes of your mother’s were suddenly wet with tears. You grabbed onto your mother, your violent shaking almost causing her to to fall flat and from your eyes came a thicker flow of tears the more you begin to understand.

Not Terry. It didn’t make sense for him to die. He was strong, the pinnacle of a man who in your eyes was unstoppable. No. This was a nightmare. You had to wake up from the nightmare. On that kitchen floor you questioned God. Your mother’s cries didn’t help calm you down. The whole world had vanished for you, now there was only pain enough to break you, pain enough to change you beyond recognition.

“No, no, no, no—”

Mike and Terry were killed in Shelby Springs, Louisiana. You refused to hear the details. Terry had a thing for saving his cousin from whatever he’d get himself involved in. You developed resentment against Mike and how he called on Terry to come to the rescue because he knew that he wouldn’t say no. Something in your gut told you that this time, he really shouldn’t leave.

Dried tears made your face feel tight and your eyes were blurry. Your chest burned and a nauseating sensation settled into your belly. You had your head in your mother’s lap on the sofa as the sun set. Across from you were your aunties and cousins, all silent and attempting to comfort you with soothing rubs and kisses to your forehead.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N…”

“Everything will be okay…”

“I can’t believe this…”

“I wish this never happened to you.”

You’d forgotten what it felt like to speak.

Going back to your shared apartment would only reopen the fresh wounds.

His pictures.

His smell.

His clothes.

His side of the bed.

What’s worse is his parents wanted you to join them in traveling to Shelby Springs to bring his body back home. You were his fiancé. As terrified as you were, you knew it was the right thing to do. Your mother joined you on the journey and her support gave you the strength to walk into that morgue and see him. It was cold and eerie. The silence unnerving. As you enter with his parents, your eyes fall to a stainless steel table with a body covered in a sheet.

Your knees buckle and you stop suddenly, too weak and afraid to carry on. Everything was happening so fast. You’d gotten the call about Terry two days ago, and now you were here barely standing in a room for corpses. Your mother had her arms wrapped around you as you take slow steps towards the table. Heart hammering in your chest, you watch as the sheet lowered to reveal his face.

You’d lost the ability to stand.

He’d suffered. Haunting images of his battered face and chest littered with bullet holes frightened and angered you. Nothing can prepare you for something like this. He didn’t look like himself. Death changed him in ways you weren’t prepared to see.

Pale. Bruised. Lifeless. Still.

It was something you couldn’t even force yourself to see even during his funeral. And neither could his parents. After what felt like hours, you all were on your way back home with Terry, making arrangements for him to be cremated. After all, it was Terry’s wish. Intrusive thoughts flooded your mind the days leading to his memorial service.

Clearly, he suffered, but what was his last words? What was the last thing on his mind? Did he think of you? What had he eaten that morning?

The morning of his memorial service a few days later, you sat within your bedroom, burying your nose in his clothes and sniffing his cologne. You wanted his belongings, but it was evidence back in Shelby Springs. They were building a case on the corupt police there and if found guilty, a multi–million dollar paycheck would be given. For Mike and Terry. The teardrop diamond engagement ring on your finger twinkled in the sun as you sat surrounded by family and friends.

Behind your black shades, your puffy eyes stared at a photo of Michael and Terry. All smiles and laughter. Terry’s deep voice and adorable smile flooded your mind and it shook you to the core. His big arms circling your waist made you wrap your arms around yourself to mimick that feeling. The smell of his beard whenever you’d nuzzle your face against his neck.

His urn sat on a podium and when you’d gotten up to deliver a speech, you touched it. You’d pressed your lips against it. Taking a deep breath, you opened a folded piece of notebook paper to read from, but soon, you found that you couldn’t speak without your voice quivering. The distant sound of sniffles and encouragement was static noise.

Fuck this.

Your fingers began ripping the paper into shreds. Fuck a proper speech. Your person was stripped of life at the tender age of thirty two. He was a good man.

You part your lips to speak, “Terry Richmond is the love of my life…and I don’t know how I’m gonna live without him. This all feels like I’m being punished. How could god take someone like him away from me?”

You spoke those words truthfully. Yes, you were questioning God. Why him? Why Terry? Why not the ones who did this to him? Why not ANYONE who’s ever wronged him? Why did his cousin call him to help? Why did Terry go instead of staying with you?

Fuck the many stages of grief. You were filled with rage and sadness so powerful. There was no way you’d come to accept this. While others moved on, you would have a constant reminder that your soulmate was stripped from your life. A part of you wanted to join him. Wherever he was.

That’s how you felt for a long while, but as time progressed, because that’s what happens with life, Terry’s absence didn’t hurt as much. Of course, during special occasions it would trigger the grief, but you’d taken the time to speak to a therapist and talk about how his death affected you. That was a year ago.

Everything is recycled, or so that is what you see with your eyes. The atoms of one thing become those of another. The energy from one place becomes energy in another. So while you have no idea where he is, or what God asked him to become next, you’re looking forward to being with him again and you feel his love so strongly in the ether. So, call it reincarnation or recycling, you’re okay with whatever. Terry’s still somewhere, and that's what matters to you.

——

“Morning!”

You walked with a pep in your step towards your mailbox after your Pilates class. Something you’d always wanted to do but never had the courage to before. It’s expensive, but you loved it. Opening the mailbox, you don’t have much but credit card bills and junk mail. As you grab your mail, you notice a thick, distressed, stationary envelope fall to the floor within the lobby of your apartment building.

Your eyes follow the envelope facing downward. You crouch down to pick it up, the pain in your legs from Pilates causing you to groan. Once you were up, you lock your mailbox and head towards your elevators. On the ride up, you think about what you’d like to prepare for dinner. Maybe steak would be nice since you hadn’t eaten it in a while.

The doors slide open and you were out of the elevator and approaching your door. As you pushed it open, you were welcomed by your orange and white cat. The new decor courtesy of your cousin who is an interior designer gave an impression of something straight out of a catalog.

A promotion.

New Apartment.

New Car.

You were starting over. It felt good to do that. You still lived in Charlotte, but letting go of the things that triggered your grief was the best way for you to move forward.

You’d kicked off your running shoes and sat the mail down on the living room table to go through. As you flipped through, the envelope caught your eye. Fancy penmanship covered the front and as your eyes scanned, your body became rigid. Your heart sank to your stomach.

From: Terry

To: My Beautiful Fiance’

You blink twice to see if this was real and what you were actually reading.

How is this possible?

As you sat on your sofa, your eyes began to flood with tears. Was someone pulling a sick joke or did Terry actually write you a letter? So many questions and a lot of confusion. You could feel your tears trickling down your cheeks and over your lips the more you stared at the envelope.

So much for getting better. The fear you felt at that moment alone in your apartment is what stopped you from opening the letter. You place it down on the coffee table and wrap your arms around you. Your cat nudged you against your leg and as you look down, her yellow eyes stared back with a softness that helped to calm you.

Terry had gifted you this cat for your birthday a year ago.

Shortly before he’d left for Shelby Springs.

She nudged you again and you felt it was her way of telling you to open the envelope. With one shaky hand, you grab the envelope from the coffee table and use your almond-shaped finger nail to open it. Inside is a folded piece of paper. You retrieve it and open it slowly, heart racing. Black ink and cursive.

Hey, baby.

Surprise. I know this probably feels a little bit morbid... But I just hate the idea that I'm not gonna be there to see you freak out over turning 30. I mean, it kills me not to be there. Heh-heh. That's funny. Okay. No, it's not. You're gonna be so impressed. I have a plan, baby. Can you believe it? I've written you letters. Letters that will be coming to you all sorts of ways. I waited till your birthday. I figured you weren't stepping out of the house for a while. Letter number one will be arriving tomorrow. Now, you gotta do what I say, okay? Don't try to figure out how the letters are coming. It's too brilliant and it'll ruin my plan. Just go along with me on this. Because the thing is, I just can't say goodbye yet. So for starters. I want you to get dolled up, and just go out and celebrate tonight. Go out with your girls. I hereby free you from a party with your family, especially your mom. I’m Sorry, I couldn’t be there, baby. I’m a need you to get a little crazy. So have a slice of cake, put on my favorite dress and get out of the apartment. Y/N, make a plan. For me, okay? And know that wherever I am, I'm missing you. Happy birthday.

P.S

I love you.

You wept silently, your tears blotching the paper. You shut your eyes tight and allow yourself to cry with a bounce of your shoulders and an aching feeling of sorrow. As you read the letter, you could hear his deep vibrato. You pictured him sitting somewhere on a hammock writing to you. Surrounded by the wild and reminded of how it was his peace. 

Bringing the paper to your nose, you smell the parchment and try your best to catch his scent. It only smelled of paper with its lignin aroma. Sniffling, you wipe away snot and tears before placing the paper on the coffee table, carefully folding it. Your birthday was indeed tomorrow and you had only planned to have dinner with your mom at her place. Just the two of you.

Your friends had suggested going out for drinks, but the thought of partying and being surrounded by so many people overstimulated you in the worst way. You couldn’t bring yourself to go out and enjoy life and what it has to offer when your forever person is six feet under. Trying your best to shake those thoughts from your mind, you meditate. Calming your breath and releasing the tension from your muscles. This was something you’d never stop doing.

Opening your eyes, you blink to adjust to the blurry view. Too emotional, you finally stand from the sofa because you were unable to read the letter again. After taking a long shower, you start on dinner with a vinyl record playing. While flipping your steak, the sensation of strong hands trapping your waist caused a shiver to slither down your spine. You drop the spatula and touch where you’d felt it, body seizing up in fear. Sharp breaths escaped your mouth.

Your mind was most definitely playing tricks on you. Terry loved to creep up behind you while you were cooking to touch on you and kiss you neck. He’d whisper in your ear because he knew that his voice drove you crazy no matter ther octave. That ghostly sensation triggered nostalgic memories of what it felt to be wrapped up within the embrace of Terry Richmond.

“SHIT—”

You rush to the stove to check on your steak. The hot grease popped your arm painfully, causing you to groan. You finish your steak and plate it with your broccolini and mashed potatoes. Some wine sounded great. You open your drink cabinet and soon realize how high up the wine is. On your tip toes, you reach up, struggling to grab a bottle of red wine. Fingertips touching the cork, you strain, one knee on the counter now.

“Nah…whatchu doing, baby?”

Terry plucked the bottle from the top shelf with ease because of his towering height compared to yours. You give him a dirty look, snatching the wine from his hand. Terry gave you a lazy smirk with low eyes. He looked oh so delectable in his white T-shirt and bootcut jeans.

“That’s how you do me when I come to the rescue, munchkin?”

“I could have gotten it, T,” you roll your eyes.

“When I’m around you know I get everything in the high places, Y/N. Fix your face,” Terry pecks your forehead, “C’mon so we can eat this good steak. I’m tryna see you model that new lingerie.”

Terry backed away with a bite of his bottom lip and a wink. Instantly, your frustration melted away and you couldn’t fight the urge to smile…

Blinking, you bring your attention back to the present. Of course, you have a step stool in the pantry. You retrieve it and place it on the floor. Stepping up, you succeed in grabbing a bottle of red wine. You scan the label before sitting it on the kitchen counter to pour yourself a heaping glass. Sitting on the bar stool, you eat your food and try your best to forget that sudden recollection.

It was so hard to forget. Everything about him was so hard to put away forever. Goosebumps on your skin, vivid memories of how he’d undressed you, talked you through it, admired you, professed how much he’d loved you. Over and over. You take a sip of your wine, fingers trembling around the stem.

That letter triggered everything.

——

The morning of your birthday was uneventful. You woke up later than you’d expected, phone buzzing on its wireless charger with texts wishing you happy birthday. Wiping the crust from your eyes, you roll over onto your belly, snatching up your phone. Friends and family flooded your inbox and created social media posts.

You’re thirty.

You’d think it would feel so odd saying that. Honestly, it didn’t feel any different. Sitting up in bed now, you reply to everyone before climbing out of bed. After your usual morning routine, you make yourself a quick breakfast before heading to your mom’s house. You planned to cook dinner with her and catch up.

The drive over took about forty minutes. You spotted your mother grabbing mail from the mailbox in her robe and slippers. She waved to you happily while standing on the porch. You pull behind her SUV and put the car in park. Stepping out, you give your mother a big, toothy grin before rushing over to embrace her.

“My baby! Happy Birthday!”

You squeeze her tightly, the smell of her scented lotion comforting you.

“I’m glad you’re here. I still have some hot breakfast on the stove.”

“Mama, I ate already.” You reply with a smile.

“You may get hungry again, come on.”

You enter your childhood home to the smell of grits, biscuits, bacon, and eggs. Suddenly, your stomach starts rumbling. Maybe you’ll have a small plate.

“I just had to run out and check the mail—”

You paused your curiosity at the cake your mother baked you when a gasp could be heard. You turn and spot your mother with a hand over her mouth and eyes wide.

“Mama, what is it?”

“Wha–there’s a letter here–from Terry—”

You rush over, taking it from your mother’s hands. She tried to snatch it back but you had your back turned.

“Y/N—”

Hey, Mama.

It’s Terry. Make sure my baby has a good time. Make sure you do everything you wanna do, whenever you wanna do it. And make sure my baby does things. I want you to take her to all the places she’d wanted to go. And be sure to give her a big kiss for me. She’s my special girl.

Love you.

“What does it say?”

Your mother lingered behind you with caution. You read the words a final time before turning, holding out the paper for her. She gripped the edge carefully and it slipped from your grasp. You could feel your knees getting weak, so you flop down into a dining chair. Your mother read the words allowed, her voice trembling.

“I wonder who sent this?” Sniffling, your mother turned the paper over, “it’s been a year.”

“I got a letter in the mail yesterday.” You revealed.

Your mother took a seat across from you. She placed the letter on the table, pressing out the folded line to make it straighter.

“It’s his handwriting for sure,” Your mother stroked the penmanship, “This is so eerie…”

“He’d planned this. Maybe he had a feeling that his days were numbered when he’d left for Louisiana…”

You stand, pacing back and forth. Your mother folded her hands against the table as she watched you.

“Even so, why would he leave? Why would he leave if he had a feeling—”

“Maybe he didn’t.” Your mother said.

“No, the way he worded these letters…it’s as if he’s speaking like he knew he was going to die—”

Your mother put up a hand, “Okay, that’s enough—”

“It’s never going to be enough! It’s never going to be the same!”

You feel your eyes welling up with tears. You release a shuddering breath and try your best to calm your nerves.

“It’s your special day, baby. Please don’t get yourself worked up. Terry wouldn’t want that.”

It didn’t matter what he’d want anyway. He’s gone.

“I need a second.”

You turn on your heels, making your way towards your old bedroom. Inside, you shut the door and settle into your old bed. Kicking off your shoes, you gather the sheets over your body and hide yourself from view. Tears rolled over your nose as you stare at the floral patterns stitched into your comforter.

Your mother is right, this is supposed to be your special day. You’re supposed to be happy and celebrating. Not crying and sad. Not that it wasn’t okay to be sad, but Terry wrote two letters expressing how he’d wanted you to enjoy turning thirty and make the most of it.

Uncovering yourself, you slip from the bed and walk over to your dresser. Opening the top, right drawer, you retrieve a bottle of tequila and a shot glass. Your emergency stash…

“Come on..”

You opened your bedroom door, darkness awaiting you ahead. Distant chatter and laughter from your relatives became muffled when your boyfriend, Terry slipped in behind you before shutting the door. You stumble your way towards the lamp on your end table, flicking it on and igniting the room with a low ambiance. Terry stood with his back pressed against the door, a wrinkled white dress shirt on with black slacks. You had on a navy blue summer dress.

Everyone gathered at your mom’s place after a funeral service for your great aunt May. You didn’t like the woman much. She’d always been hard on you and favored your cousins. Terry walked around your room, eyeing old photographs from your high school days. The sound of your drawer opening caught his attention and he made his way over toward you. With a finger pressed to your lips, you pull out a bottle of tequila that you’d snagged from your parents liquor cabinet.

You were of age to drink, but after being around your family, you needed to sneak a little something. Terry chuckled and shook his head before accepting a shot glass that you’d gotten from a trip to Canun. You pour some in each one before clinking glasses, some of the tequila spilling over the rim and causing both of you to laugh.

You knock back the drink and while your face scrunched at the taste, Terry simple smiled at you.

“Burns, doesn’t it?” He whispered.

“Yeah,” you clear your throat, “I don’t really like this one.”

“Don’t let me find out you can’t handle alcohol.”

“Shut up.”

Terry approached you. Your smile wavered, eyes blinking up at him slowly. The smell of his cologne lingered in your nose. He eyed you down before taking the bottle from your hand.

“I think we should get outta here before your mama comes looking for us,” Terry said.

“Afraid to be alone with me in my room, TJ?” You tease.

Terry chuckled, bringing his face closer to yours.

“I’m afraid of what I might do to you if I stay in here any longer. We both know how loud you can get…”

Standing in your room with that shot glass from Cancun in your hand, you recall that night. You hadn’t washed the glass afterwards, just put it away. You fill it and toast to being thirty before drinking it down in one motion. You were reminded of how bad it tasted but it was worth it.

You put it away before fixing yourself back up to join your mother. She was in the kitchen prepping for dinner when you walked out. She’d heard your footsteps and paused cleaning the collards to look at you.

“I’m sorry for lashing out on you.” You apologized.

Your mother gave you a small smile, “It’s okay. I’m glad you’re better.”

You walk into her arms and she wrapped them around you.

“It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to cry.”

“I know,” you shut your eyes, “We had so many plans for my birthday.”

“I know,” your mother held your face as she looked at you, “And you can keep that memory and enjoy yourself. Surround yourself with the people that love you. Go out and have a good time tonight. Shake some tail and get drunk!”

You laugh and roll your eyes.

You can almost feel the hangover in the morning.

——

“HE DON’T WANNA BE SAVED DON’T SAVE HIM! THAT IS NOT MY NIGGA DON’T CLAIM HIM!”

You rap to the lyrics, the trap beat driving you to shake ass and get low. Birthday sash over your body like a pageant girl and birthday crown on your head, you make the most of your thirtieth birthday at the lounge with your girls as they hype you up.

“GO Y/N! GO Y/N! GO Y/N!”

You felt sexy in your red dress with a plunging neckline that hugged your curves. Strappy stilettos dawned your pretty feet and you’d done a full makeup look. You felt good and looked good, turning heads and drawing attention. Another shot made its way into your hand and you drank it down as your girls cheered you on.

“Woah woah, birthday girl!” Your girlfriend, Candace had to help you because you would have face planted the table covered in drinks, “Take a seat, Princess!”

“I’m too hype to sit! This music is fire!” You drunkenly shout.

“And too pretty and valuable to end up in the ER!” Another friend by the name of Marsha yelled over the music.

You wave them off but sit anyway. A bottle of water was thrust into your hands and you accept it, drinking down half.

It felt good to get out and have a good time. Two years is a long time. Being surrounded by loyal friends warmed your heart. The drunkenness was going to make you cry but you refused to ruin your makeup. They’d been there to protect and support you through it all. You look at each one of them, a big smile on your face.

“What is it?!” A friend named Nancy asked.

“I JUST LOVE YOU GUYSSSSSS!!!!”

You open your arms with a pout of your lip and they all get up to hug you.

“I needed this!” You dab your eyes with a napkin, careful not to ruin your eye makeup, “After everything with Terry, I didn’t know what it felt like to have fun and let loose.”

“IM GLAD YOU DECIDED TO STEP OUT! TERRY WOULDV’E WANTED THAT!”

Curious, you lean into Marsha to speak to her closely.

“Did you ever…receive a letter from Terry?”

Marsha’s eyes grew wide. Your other girls came in close to see what was going on.

“You did, didn’t you?” You asked.

“…I—yes. We all did. We…we didn’t want to tell you because we didn’t want trigger anything—”

“Please don’t be upset!” Nancy begged, “We didn’t want to make you sad.”

Candace sat in silence staring at you.

“I’m not upset! It’s okay!”

“You sure?” Candace questioned, grabbing your hands.

“Totally! What did it say?”

They each shared a look.

“It sad something along the lines of making sure we look after you and that he wants you to make the most of your birthday and life and have fun and not worry about him. He said that he loved us and appreciated us for always being there for you.” Marsha revealed.

Candace and Nancy nodded their heads in agreement.

“Wow,” you give your friends a drunken smile, “He wrote you guys too. I miss him so much…”

Marsha strokes your back while Nancy fanned your face to cool you down. You release a meditating breath before laughing.

“Terry always had a trick up his sleeve! How he managed to pull this all off is amazing to me!”

When they realized you weren’t sad, they joined in on the laughter.

“He was always a man on a mission! You remember how he got you, right?” Candace said.

“Had that man showing up to your job with flowers! Took you on fifty first dates like your favorite movie!” Nancy recalled.

“He knew what he wanted and he didn’t hesitate! That’s a man right there! God created only one Terry Richmond for a reason! That shit can’t be replicated!”

“I know that’s right!” Marsha shouted.

“Let’s toast to Terry and his forever love for our girl!”

With new shots, you all raise a glass and look towards the ceiling before tapping it against the table and drinking it down.

The rest of the night went by in a blur. You were dropped off to your apartment and tucked in. Your alarm went off, waking you up with a raging headache and a dry mouth. Your makeup stained your pillow and the smell of bacon wafted your nose. You sit up abruptly, looking around with crusty eyes.

“TERRY?!”

Your loud voice alerted whoever was in your apartment and several footsteps could be heard outside your door. Marsha, Candace, and Nancy came in wearing t-shirts and panties with spatulas in their hands.

“Hey, Y/N, you okay?” Candace asked with a worried look.

“I…”

You look around, swallowing spit with difficulty.

“What’s wrong?” Candace placed a hand on your knee.

“I must of been having a nightmare.”

You scratch your head and plaster on a smile.

“I’m okay. I smell bacon!”

Candace stood up to let you out of bed. You skip towards your bathroom to brush your teeth.

“We’ll be out in the kitchen, Y/N!”

“Okay!”

The door shut behind them and you stare at your reflection, the running water filling your ears. You were used to waking up to the smell of bacon whenever Terry cooked you breakfast. You brush your teeth and clean your face, putting your hair up into a bun before exiting your room.

As you make your way into the living room, your eyes light up when you notice a large bouquet of red roses dusted with glitter. Your friends enter the living room, filling you in on the surprise being left at your door. You admire and smell the roses before retrieving a card that was attached to the vase.

Taking a seat, you open it, staring down at a pretty birthday card. Opening the card, two plane tickets fall out and there are written words on the inside.

Dear Y/N,

You know I had to get you red roses! Remember how we always talked about visiting Jamaica? Well, here’s two tickets. I have family there and I want you to stay with them and make the most of a good time. Take your mother with you. I know that would make you happy. When you get there, you’ll be able to visit all my favorite places. Happy Birthday my special angel.

P.S,

I Love You.

You were so drawn into the card that you hadn’t realized your friends were reading too. They wiped away tears and admired your pretty roses. You smiled, the tickets in your lap. They each hug you tight, causing you to cry. For once, they were tears of joy. You couldn’t wait to surprise your mother with the ticket. She’d always wanted to go to Jamaica.

——

Soft white sand beneath your toes.

Turquoise water stretching out for miles.

Palm trees swaying from the warm breeze.

Red, green, and yellow dress wrapped around your body snugly.

Your faux locs brushed across your back, the hair charms tickling your skin. You turn to pick up your coconut, bringing the straw to your lips and sucking down the delicious water.

The smell of ackee and saltfish wafted your nose. The spices traveling from the open patio doors that led into the compound. Bob Marley serenaded you as you sway in your spot.

Terry had cousins in Montego Bay that welcomed your mother and you with open arms. An entire compound surrounded by the beach. They cooked tasty Caribbean dishes everyday and you got a good tan whenever you could. There were jeeps on the compound and your mother and you would drive out to town to shop and do tourist activities.

Being surrounded by Terry’s relatives brought out a comfort you hadn’t felt in a while. You’d see his parents from time to time, spoke with them everyday, but his mother brought out a sadness in you that you tried to avoid. In Jamaica, you were filled with laughter. They showed you photos of Terry in his youth. Big ears, goofy smile, deep tan, and a surfboard in his hands.

You had a letter waiting for you.

This is where I sat thinking about you after the very first time we met. You didn't look real to me at first. I never saw so many colors on one girl before... But you looked like you belonged out there, all right. You and all your colors. Do you remember the first thing you ever said to me? ("I'm lost.") Oh, you didn't look lost, not to me. At first, the no-talking thing didn't last. Before long, I couldn't get you to shut up. But you were so cute, trying to impress me with all your grand plans. I had no idea what you were talking about... I didn't have a clue, actually. I loved you right then and there. Life had changed as I knew it. And now it's changed again, love. See, I don't worry about you remembering me... It's that girl on the road you keep forgetting. "My business is to create. It doesn't even matter what you do." You told me that, remember?

P.S.

So go home. Go find it. Find that thing that makes you like nobody else. You’re unique.

“Y/N! You hungry?”

You turn, shielding your eyes from the sun rays. Your mother stood on the patio with a drink in her hand. Your stomach rumbled as you pushed yourself up from the sand, brushing the grains from your dress. You jog over, trying to avoid your feet from reacting to the hot sand. Slipping on your sandals, you climb and take a seat on a patio chair. The table was covered with all the foods you’d grown to love on your trip. You help yourself to a few pieces of plantain first.

Around your neck is one of Terry’s necklaces from his child hood. A handcrafted, wooden, beaded necklace with the colors of the Jamaican flag. Your mother sat next to you and made your plate for you. Terry’s great aunt, uncle, and cousins joined you. This was your last day in Jamaica and tonight there would be a farewell ceremony.

“Dig in!” Terry’s Aunt Chandice said. She had carob skin that glistened like onyx stone in the sun with thick locs that almost touched her ankles. His uncle Sean reminded you of Terry with his green eyes and striking features. He too had long locs that he wore in a bun.

His cousins were older than you but only by a few years. Two boys and a girl. Chris, Tarone, and Raeni.

You learned that the two boys and Terry used to compete in surf competitions. Raeni was into music and dance. During your trip she’d taught you how to move your hips and she even dragged you to a club or two where you let loose with her friends.

“You’ll come back, yeah?” Aunt Chandice asked while they cleared the table.

“Of course!”

You loved it there. You didn’t want to leave.

After lunch, you took a long nap and afterwards you went for a swim. The hours ticked on and soon it was ceremony time. All of you dressed in all white as you stood on the beach, torches lit beneath the sunset. You brought out a small tightly sealed canister filled with some of Terry’s ashes. Handing it over to Uncle Sean, you stand back and watch them have their own traditional memorial ceremony to honor Terry.

Fresh tears cascaded down your cheeks while Aunt Chandice, Raeni, and your mom comforted you. Uncle Sean soon asked you to step forward with the others, each of you taking turns to pour his ashes into the sea. A piece of Terry sprinkled in places that he’d loved. You danced and laughed, twirling around and picturing Terry’s soul watching you from the clouds with a proud smile.

After many cups of rum, you retreat to your room, falling in bed and staring out at the moon. Sleep overcame you and as you drifted off, you dreamed of being in a boat, slowly floating under the moon. Strong arms circled you and the smell of sea spray tickled your nose. You open your eyes and look up, a pair of eyes that reminded you of the Caribbean Sea staring back at you.

“Terry Richmond.” You whisper.

“Y/N.” 

He’s shirtless with white linen pants on.

“What do you love most about Jamaica?”

“It’s a part of you…it’s a home away from home.”

Terry hummed, stroking your arm.

“Are you happy?”

Terry peered down at you. He sat up on his elbow, hovering above you, the moonlight creating a glow that surrounded him. You reach up to stroke his sculpted cheek.

“I am. More now that I know you’re okay.”

“It’s not easy,” Your eyes shine with tears, “I’m going to miss you forever.”

“I know, it’s okay,” Terry gave you a reassuring smile, “I’ll always miss you.”

Terry closed the distance between you two and his soft lips that tasted of mangoes and saltwater molded into yours perfectly. You stroke his broad back with your fingertips, electricity sparking your heart. The kiss went from patient to fervent, Terry’s hands in your hair, stroking the pattering of your butterfly locs. His tongue flicked yours and he sucked on your lips hungrily.

“Baby, baby,” Terry spoke against your lips, forehead against yours, “I have to go…I love you.”

“No…don’t leave me…”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him more. Terry grunted into your mouth. You stroke his tanned skin, squeezing his muscles and molding your hands against his body to feel as much of him as you could before it was too late.

It was already too late. But this felt so real.

It felt as if you were grabbing air.

“Terry…no…please.”

“I love you, Y/N…”

Shooting up from the bed, you feel around, trying to grab a hold of something. Anything. You look around, the reality of where you were settling over you like a weighted blanket. You clutch your chest, sweaty skin beneath your palm. With your other hand, you touch your lips. Shutting your eyes, you see the last images of Terry before they faded away.

It was him. It had to be him.

He visited you in your dreams. He’s happy. He’s in heaven. You smile as tears roll down your cheeks.

Acceptance.

——

Dear Y/N,

I don't know how much time I’ll have left with you in this world. I don't mean literally, I mean you're out buying ice cream and you'll be home soon. But I have a feeling this is the last letter, because there is only one thing left to tell you. It isn't to go down memory lane or make you buy a lamp, you can take care of yourself without any help from me. It's to tell you how much you move me, how you changed me. You made me a man, by loving me Y/N. And for that, I am eternally grateful... Literally. If you can promise me anything, promise me that whenever you're sad, or unsure, or you lose complete faith, that you'll try to see yourself through my eyes. Thank you for the honor of being my fiancé. I'm a man with no regrets. How lucky am I. You made my life, baby. But I'm just one chapter in yours. There'll be more. I promise. So here it comes, the big one. Don't be afraid to fall in love again. Watch out for that signal, when life as you know it ends.

P.S.

I will always love you.

All of his letters.

You sat on your living room floor with a glass of wine on his birthday. This letter you hadn’t opened months prior, wanting to save it for his special day. He would have been thrity–three. You stare at a framed photo of Terry in his MCMAP attire surrounded by recruits with a big smile and a sweaty face. You’d cut your hair and got a couple tattoos honoring him. One of which was on your butt. That made you giggle. Maybe you would fall in love again someday. Maybe not.

There’s only one Terry Richmond.

Grabbing a pen, you open a notebook and start writing your own letter. It was more so for closure. When you think of Terry now, you smile and reminisce on what it felt like to be with him. You cherish the memories and created new ones.

Dear Terry,

you said you wanted me to fall in love again... And maybe one day I will, but there are all kinds of love out there. This is my one and only life... And it's a great and terrible and short and endless thing... And none of us come out of it alive. I don't have a plan except that it's time my mom laughed again. She's never seen the world. She's never seen The Botanical Garden, so I'm taking her there to where we started. Maybe now she'll understand. I don't know how you did it, but you brought me back from the dead. I'll write to you again soon.

P.S.

Guess what.

The End

@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @uzumaki-rebellion @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @hotgrlcece @blackerthings @deja-r @hearteyes-for-killmonger @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter r @dashhoney25

[hollyhomburg]

Prey Animals (1)

—  Pairing: Yoongi x Jin, Yoongi x reader, Bts x reader

—  Genre: Omegaverse, Mafia au, Polyamory au, Found family, Suspense, Eventual Smut, Enemies to friends to lovers, Angst with a happy ending, Hurt and Comfort,

—  Summary: In a world where Beta's are rare, valuable, and often have more than one pack; Beta Min Yoongi does everything he can to keep his mafia heritage a secret from his primary pack. Little does he know he's not the only one who's living a double life.

—  Words: 2.3k

—  Warnings: Coffee shop au, Depression, hopelessness, grief and grieving, strangers to friends to lovers, referenced harassment, catcalling, Themes of poverty

—  Check in at the end for my notes on this chapter! —

(Last Chapter)

Here's the thing; Someone always has to leave first.

Whether it’s through divorce or death, through separations happy and healthy (even if they hurt at first) someone always always leaves first. Sometimes it's easy, sometimes it happens naturally when a lover slides from living into the end and there is nothing to do but beg; please treat them gently, please hold them tenderly like I did.

But nothing is safe and nothing is holy when it comes to death. Death takes and takes and takes. Death keeps the people you love forever, even when you can’t. 

Kim Seokjin often felt like he walked hand in hand with death, which was honestly a little annoying.

He’d much rather ignore how death seemed to follow him like a curse, lingering at the corner of every moment and in every hollow promise. He'd much rather have shucked death off like an ill-fitting shadow in favor of holding on to the people he loved for as long as possible. Love is that way; intoxicating, even though you know it’s going to end. 

Kim Seokjin loves his pack whole lot. A fuck ton. Enough to spit in death's face, enough to burn buildings and salt cities, to bring the sky down upon anyone who dared to take them from him. An omega in love is a dangerous thing, and Kim Seokjin was already dangerous before he met his pack.

He loved them all desperately, even though each one of them had a secret. 

Seokjin is the first one to fall in love with Yoongi, and while it’s happening, he never thinks about the other leaving. He doesn’t think about how he’ll go and leave Seokjin’s heart in wreckage. It never even crosses his mind.

For Seokjin, Min Yoongi comes just in time.

~-~

(6 Years Before, Seokjin)

Seokjin looks down at the text on his phone, the hiss of the expresso maker and it’s leaky connections a distant hum that grates on his brain. A welcome departure from the silence shadowing the coffee shop at this time of night.

Auntie <3 (10:26pm): I’m sorry, but we’re busy with the pup, you know how it goes, are you free to babysit anytime soon? Happy birthday anyway! Sorry we can’t make it that day!��

Seokjin knows his usually creamy omega scent is going rancid; he should maintain it for the sake of the customers that are bound to come into the shop at some point tonight.  But he can’t manage it, looking down at his phone screen, the crack at the bottom. His heart in his throat feeling impossibly sharp.

There are hardly any people here at this time of night, haunting the red pleather seats or the dusty butcher block countertop that has seen better days. The dated Halloween decorations on the wall and the black and white checkered linoleum floor offer Seokjin neither company nor comfort.  

He wishes he was at home, in his nest (Can you even call two curled up blankets thread bear and ancient a nest these days?), then this devastation would be easier to compartmentalize. But Seokjin is not so lucky no- Seokjin has to work.

God, what he wouldn’t give somedays to become a house omega. Seokjin should be a house omega, he’s pretty enough. Nice enough, smart enough. And yet-

The coffee shop he works at is open 24hr a day and it’s too early for midterms at the local college. Every hour or so someone comes in, a truck driver, or a late-night food delivery alpha with eye bags worse than his. Other than that, he’s on his own feet aching in his shitty old shoes.

Seokjin’s own hot chocolate with a triple shot of expresso goes cold on the counter. He likes the smell of the coffee more than the taste. But he needs the caffeine to stay awake. His body has never quite adjusted to the night shifts.

But Seokjin takes what he can get.

He looks at his aunt’s text. As if the inclusion of a few exclamation points makes him feel any better. As if an ask for babysitting (Something Seokjin usually enjoys) will be enough to dull the ache of being alone on his birthday in a few short weeks. Seokjin blinks away tears as he looks down at the text. Fighting away the clawing feeling in his neck, his throat closing up and his vision going blurry. It’s so pathetic to cry over this but it’s hard to imagine that just last year- Seokjin had more than enough people to celebrate his birthday with.

That’s the thing about dead parents, they have a tendency to make you emotional.

Seokjin walks to work because cars still make him dizzy, the jerk of them too fast reminds him of that night. Although he wasn’t in the car with his parents he still can’t so much as ride the train without thinking about it. The screeching impact fear of it all. He can tell himself at least it was quick, at least they didn’t suffer.

And yet-

when he’s not busy drowning in his grief, Seokjin gets by. He makes the minimum payment on his student loans that he can. Tolerates his shitty apartment with barely any furniture. He buys rice in bulk and sneaks’ bananas from the coffee shop when things get truly lean. It’s not terrible. He’s not homeless but his shoebox of an apartment doesn’t feel like home. In the basement below the ground floor, too damp and too dark. Things could be worse, and they could be a lot better. He could still have a family- still have a mom and dad.

It doesn’t matter to his aunt that she’s the only family he’s got left, it doesn’t matter to her that if he doesn’t spend his birthday with her- he’s going to spend it with no one. He feels as warn through and unwanted, as fragile and in decay as his shoes and the hole in the heal, the graying laces tangled into a bow.

If he looks in the reflective glass of the pastry cabinets, he can almost see a pretty omega staring back at him. Can almost recognize his own face beyond the deep bags under his eyes, beneath the ridges of his bags and the downward quirk of his face, muscles atrophying with nothing to smile about.

Seokjin should smile more; it would keep him from getting jowls. His beauty might as well be his only attribute that matters to society. Not his degree or his intellect. When Seokjin has time to feel bitter about it, he tells himself things could be worse.

He could be an alpha.

Greif and money are wearing Kim Seokjin thin. Sure, he’s legally an adult but he feels so childlike, full of hopes too high and a sadness too deep. School and his chances at an internship have long dried up, hopeless and directionless. Most of his Uni friends moved away for bigger and brighter prospects. And there’s not a soul to help him navigate life after college, let alone tell him what to do with his bullshit psychology degree.

The world turns on, but Seokjin can’t. Stuck in his grief like a statue. Constantly missing out on what could have been.

He should have believed his mom when she told him that he'd need to go to medical school or choose a different specialty. Should have believed his teachers when they told him that abnormal psychology was an oversaturated and hard to break into field. That's the thing about dreams- they're elusive, effervescent, and often just out of reach.

But it won’t be long before he has a reason to smile. Just a few more minutes now, just wait a little longer. This is the last moment Seokjin will ever be lonely. The last moment for the rest of his life, he just has too-

The bell dings but Seokjin doesn’t hear it. He doesn’t hear the footsteps either until they’re already rounding the counter, sliding open the hinge on the countertop pass through with a rusty shriek that makes Seokjin flinch. Lips open, greetings hover nervously on the tip of a tongue.

“Jesus Christ-”  

Seokjin jumps and it’s more out of instinct than any fear. Anyone would jump. Seokjin has definitely not seen him before; Seokjin is definitely the only person who usually works the graveyard shift. Prefers it this way, there’s less people.

This stranger is so pretty that Seokjin does a double take, hand over his heart, thundering beneath his long pretty omega fingers. He’s got long hair; it lies over a forehead in a small curve. His dark cat like eyes flash at odds with his broad shoulders and even bigger and more disproportionate hands beneath an old flannel. His mouth twists downward with unintended mirth.

The strangers scent fluffs over him, chocolate- the kind that drips on your tongue like smores at a campfire or from a chocolate in your pocket. Warmed by the heat of a hand that’s not yours.

This stranger smells like hot coco on the coldest of days but Seokjin still shivers. A Beta. He can taste it on the back of tongue. There is a separate undercurrent to his scent. A silvery slipperiness to it.

What is a Beta doing here? Surely he has better things to do than grace Seokjin’s corner of the world right now.

“Hi ugh- you’re Seokjin, right?” Seokjin blinks, first down at his shirt to check he’s not wearing his nametag and then across the counter at Yoongi. He’s too pretty to be shy, and beta’s shouldn’t be shy at all. Yet a faint blush covers his cheeks. he’s got a face a bit like a cat, a bit like Gigi from howls moving castle. “Sejun hired me over the weekend, to help with the holidays.”

“Holidays?” Seokjin asks, eyebrows furrowing.

“You know- Halloween and then Christmas and stuff.” The beta goes plucky, the hair at the back of his neck sticking up like he actually is from some studio Ghibli movie. “I ugh- I’m Yoongi.”

He holds out his hand. Seokjin takes it. Yoongi’s hands are just as big and warm as they look.

“Jin.”

Seokjin checks his phone again when Yoongi’s not looking, as he puts on his black apron, and combs through his hair with a finger, anxious.

Sure enough- there is an open but unanswered text from his manager Sejun when he looks for it. Warning him to expect a new coworker. Not much else. Seokjin must have forgotten to answer.

“Did Sejun bother to train you?”

“No.”

“Have you ever worked at a coffee shop before?”

“No,” Seokjin is already looking dubious, but Yoongi is quick to reassure him, “but I want to learn.”

“Okay, then your first job is to make me an americano to apologize for startling me.”

Yoongi huffs, and its sounds close enough to a laugh that it has Seokjin’s instincts perking up. Stupid omegan instincts that like pretty things. Instincts Seokjin has long buried in self-preservation and grief.

Seokjin is not an introvert. Seokjin needs people like plants need sunshine. Needs touch and love just as much as any other omega in their prime. It’s getting it that’s always been an issue. But Seokjin does not let himself have the things he needs often. Seokjin does not let himself do an awful lot of things. Like walk home at night more than he has too or wash his pj’s after wearing them only once.

It’s easier to boil love down to something trivial like laundry.

Seokjin shows Yoongi how to operate the expresso machine and the oven they use to heat up the baked goods (mostly frozen, some baked) in the small kitchen in the back. Everything. Showing him the ropes.

They both leave when the sky is just starting to lighten, not light enough that all the nightcrawlers and alphas that linger on the street corners do not recede at the sight of the oncoming morning, but daylight is a distant promise in the night sky. Yoongi thanks him for showing him the ropes and Seokjin tells him he’ll see him in 12 hours, and they go their separate ways.

Seokjin always passes a few alphas and night crawlers on his way home. The coffee shop is just on the edge of where gentrification turns bougie but Seokjin like most poor omega’s his age- lives on the other side of town. he always contends with a few of alphas of an unscrupulous nature and tonight is no different. Usually keeping his head down keeps him safe enough.

Maybe he’d get harassed less if he wasn’t pretty. The very thing that earns him the tips that quite literally keep him off the street, the pretty tuck of his white shirt and the bit of gloss to his plush lips earn him unwanted attention. He scrubs the lip-gloss off, puts his hood up, and walks as fast as he can. It’s lucky that no one’s ever done more than catcall him.

It’s not like anyone would care if something bad happened to him anyway.

He can’t cross the street to avoid all of them, there are gangbangers on every corner between here and his apartment. He’s tall enough to be considered an alpha from a distance. Seokjin just hangs his head and tries not to look too conspicuous. Turning away from them so they can’t see the omegan curves to his face and his eyes and lips, the things that usually betray him.

It hardly ever works.

The alpha’s growl out their taunts, their insults masquerading as compliments and threats disguised as flirting. “I’d love to get my knot in that, you tight pretty?” one of the alpha’s sneers, Seokjin ignores it. He’s got a few inches on the alpha, but alphas are naturally stronger than omegas. If there is a fight, Seokjin will have to run.

“Bet you’re tight and warm and wet down there huh? Wanna give us a taste? I’ll make it worth your while. How much?”

Seokjin turns away from the streetlights and walks quicker.

(Next Chapter)

~-~

(Read the first Version of this story Here)

Notes:

- It was a bit of a struggle to write small ‘wrong’ things into Seokjin’s character arc. Because I realize that he is supposed to be a psychopath who doesn’t know he’s a psychopath. But the beginning is so sweet I almost didn’t want to change it too much.

-I wonder if my own personal interjections to the story are welcome or annoying. I guess we’ll wait and see! You’ll tell me if you hate it lol

-Some of these chapters are going to be longer than others! But I want to split it up more thematically than anything else. Unlike the other version where I went by every 10k (unless something thematically dragged it over the line) this version is split up by mini arc.

-Ahhh reading it back I wonder if I made Seokjin’s beginning too depressing?

-I realized while editing this story that if I ever made the jump into traditional printed publishing that I’d have to do more work to set up the Omegaverse aspects of the story- and that’s what a good part of this chapter is doing- setting up the societal expectations of omegas in this universe and the challenges that they face.

-Looking back on this I also can’t help but think that the m/c was probably an omega in a similar position to Seokjin and she actually took the chance that the alphas offered to get out of poverty via a relationship and it so severely backfired on her.

[scripts4dreamers]

Me and my one (1) friend who has also had their brain corrupted by the blight (dragon age) have been fighting about this for two days but I’m so sure I’m right, so I humbly present my thesis to you lovely people.

1. After the events of the Veilguard, if Rook and Neve ended up together, Neve tries to leave you.

LET ME EXPLAIN! (Spoilers for the Veilguard ending)

I love Neve. She’s my favorite romance from Veilguard, she’s an incredible character and she does not deserve all the hate she gets. Having said that, she does 1000% try and leave Rook.

The one thing we know about Neve, almost from the moment we meet her, is that she is not a believer. She doesn’t believe Solas is a god, at first, she doesn’t believe anyone will have her back, she doesn’t believe Minrathous will improve and she doesn’t believe she’s going to survive this job. But still she fights on, not out of a genuine belief that she can win, but because she has a soft spot for lost causes.

Neve has devoted her life to being the champion of lost causes. She tells Rook that, even if this job doesn’t get her, one of them will. She risks her life, day in and day out, in service of a city that has done nothing but hurt her. Neve believes she’s a dead woman walking, and all she wants to do is go down protecting the people of Dock Town because someone has to. Someone has to.

And then she meets Rook and Harding and now gods are real, and they’re destroying the world and oh well everything was always going to go down in flames, so why not help out? She’s always been a magnet for bad news, for bad luck, for the worst of humanity, so why not spend her last days fighting for what little good is left?

She tries to fight falling for Rook, but they’re everything she wishes the world could be. They’re the lifeline she’s been waiting for since before the world forced her to stop believing. They’re good and kind and full of life and how can she do anything but love them for that? But she’s already dead, they’re both already dead and she can’t survive another loss.

She throws herself into loving them only after she lost them to the Fade. Only after Harding/Davrin died. After her world already ended, because that’s when she really realizes how quickly it can all end and how much time she wasted pushing people away. The goddamn WORLD IS ENDING and the person you love is THERE and they’re REAL and they WANT YOU, so why not? What is there to lose? It’s easy to love someone when the world is ending. It’s easy to love someone when you’re both already doomed.

But then the world doesn’t end. The sun rises on a blighted Minrathous and they’re both still alive, and now she’s faced with rebuilding. There’s so much work to be done, she’s a bloody, scarred mess and the job she was brought in for is over, isn’t it? She’s not a cool noir detective who died saving the world anymore, she’s someone’s partner, someone’s friend and lover and those aren’t jobs she had ever prepared herself to take.

Suddenly, without the haze of panic and the urgency of stopping the gods, things look different. She needs a new apartment. Minrathous needs a detective. Life goes back to normal and Neve still isn’t a believer.

Of course, everyone says they’ll stay in touch. Bonds formed that can never be broken and all that, but Neve knows better. You don’t hang around once the party is over. You don’t give the world more ways to hurt you, more people to take. You don’t give people a chance to leave you.

So she leaves first.

She regrets it. She hates herself for it. She cries herself to sleep wondering how she could be such a coward, but she leaves. She packs a bag, writes a goodbye letter and leaves before morning.

Now, do I think her and Rook get back together? Absolutely I do. I just think that, with all the events of Veilguard happening in such a short time, there’s going to be some major questions for all the companions once the dust settles, and leaving before you can be left is Neve Gallus’ answer to those questions.

[eddiesxangel]

Take Me to the Lakes | E.M x Reader ~ 3/6

cw: more angst, 18+ mdni , Male masturbation, little bit of perv eddie, dirty talk, praise/degradation, Daddy!kink won the poll, oral (f receiving), light spanking, fingering, p in v, (no use of condoms but reader says she is on the pill) cum eating, like a teeny weeny bit of anal play but not really…

Master list

cw: 7.8k

Eddie could not believe what just happened. What the fuck were you thinking?! Wearing that! Dancing like that! Getting on your knees for him in front of everyone?!

Eddie had to get out of there; he was only a man. He wouldn’t be able to hide his boner if he continued to watch. You didn’t give him a choice; he had to leave.

The second Eddie saw you in those little shorts with those shoes! Those fucking five inch stilettos that made your legs look so long and lean. Then you bend over in those shorts… and on to of that the song's lyrics were so sexual that there was no way for Eddie to survive.

The image of you was burned into Eddie’s head; it played on a loop as he hid deep in the forested area behind some bushes, trying to relieve himself.

Leaned up against an old oak tree, Eddie stroked his cock. God, Eddie felt like a pervert, but two weeks of pent-up attraction could only go so far. Living in tight quarters with bunk mates, he had no choice but to sneak off to relieve himself. It had been days since Eddie saw you in your bikini, and he hadn’t been able to get rid of the urge to touch himself since.

Eddie thought of your hands, how they ran all over your body while dancing. He was so jealous of your hands. He wished he could touch you the way you touched yourself. To kiss, to graze, to squeeze every inch of you.

He imagined you, in that little outfit you were just prancing in, on your knees for him, he pictured your mouth replacing his hand.

“Oh fuck Princess” he mumbled as he got closer and closer.

When Eddie finished, he walked out from behind the trees and saw two silhouettes standing closely behind the barn. As he got closer, he saw that it was you and Billy. He was kissing your cheek, you were smiling up at him, he said something, and you hugged him.

The jealous rage was returning within Eddie and he could no longer watch…

Were you using him to get Billy? Is Eddie just a prop in your game? Was it Billy that Steve suggested you had a crush on?

Eddie could no longer watch and stormed off.

“FUCK” he yelled when he reached the cabin.

“Jesus Christ, dude!” Steve screamed.

“Sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be back yet.” Eddie shrugged off his leather jacket and crawled into bed.

“You want to talk about it?” he asked.

“No.”

Steve watched as Eddie rolled over and didn’t say anything for the rest of the night.

—

The next morning, Eddie was in no better mood. Worse, actually, because he couldn’t sleep.

A knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts, but he still didn’t bother to get up. He pretended to stay asleep so he wouldn’t have to get to the door.

Again, another knock came, and no one got up.

Eddie could hear a small “hello” coming from the outside. He peeked his eye open a sliver to see if anyone would get the door, but to his surprise, he was alone.

He must have been too wrapped up in his own sulking to hear them leave.

Eddie looked at his watch, it was 7:46 am. Shit, he had to get up.

Knock, knock, knock.

“What do you want?” Eddie half yelled as he yanked open the door.

He wasn’t expecting to see you on the other side, but there you were, like an angel with two cups of coffee… just like every other morning. You even looked like an angel in your baby blue tank top and white terry cloth shorts that literally said “angel” with blue angel wings on one leg,

Eddie froze, staring at you, waiting for you to respond.

“Oh, uh” you clear your throat. "sorry, I’ll just go.” Your voice was so quiet. You shoved the cup of coffee into Eddie's hand before turning to run away.

Before Eddie’s brain could compute what to say, he swore he heard you sniffle. Eddie went to run after you but Steve blocked his way.

“Dude, what did you do! I see Bambi crying last night, and now I see her leaving our cabin and she is crying again?” Steve came into the cabin rubbing a towel over his wet hair.

“Fuck” Eddie dragged his hands over his face.

“I think I fucked up, man; I snapped at her just now, I had a terrible sleep, and she is driving me crazy.” He finally admits.

“She probably came here to apologize to you.”

“To me? What for?”

“She thinks she made you feel uncomfortable.”

“She made me feel uncomfortable alright, fucking popped a boner in front of everyone like I was thirteen.” Eddie huffed.

“Go apologize, man. She put herself out there last night; she said she felt embarrassed because you had left.”

“No, that’s not what happened!”

“We’ll go fix this because she thinks she thinks you’re disgusted by her…” Steve stepped closer to Eddie to whisper, even though they were the only ones in the cabin. “I am really not supposed to be telling anyone else this, especially you, but when I said Bambi had a crush on someone here, it wasn’t about me or Ashton, especially not Billy, if you get what I mean.” Steve looked around to make sure no one was listening.

“What do you mean? I saw her and Billy together after the show behind the barn. They looked pretty close and cozy to me.” Eddie sarcastically laughed.

“Oh my god, how are you so thick?” Steve said under his breath, but Eddie still heard.

“Hey!”

“Dude, she was only out there because she got upset you left; Coyote saw her and went to comfort her. She wants you, dude! Why do you think she did that dance routine? Do you think she ever has danced like that here? No, it's always soft, pretty little ballet numbers, but this year… You’re here, she dresses all sexy, and dancing to Zeppelin? You don’t think that has anything to do with you? She did that for you and you left. How do you think that made her feel?” Steve was pissed off, upset his friend was hurting, annoyed that you both were still literally dancing around the fact you both like each other.

Eddie stood there, taking in all the information Steve had just told him.

It wasn’t even 8:00 am, and Eddie was still half asleep, but he thought he understood what Steve was saying.

“So you’re telling me she did all that last night for me?” He clarified.

“Yes. Jesus Christ! Now put on a shirt and hurry, we are late!” He said as he walked out the door, leaving Eddie dumbfounded.

—

You try your best to avoid Eddie for the next few hours. You couldn’t believe that this was happening. You had put on your cutest outfit that you brought to camp to help you feel better, but it did nothing for your confidence when Eddie opened the door. His voice was callous and mean, like when talking to the popular kids at school.

You hadn’t ever been the brunt of it before now. You do not react well to people yelling at you to begin with, so Eddie's reaction solidified that you indeed fucked up.

Clearly, coffee was not going to fix things…

It was Monday, dance day, so at least you had the distraction and spent the whole day teaching. However, during Eddie’s group session after lunch, you tried to avoid eye contact with him, as you could feel his intense gaze on you. You tried to stay focused; you really tried, but the pit you had in your chest was making if very difficult.

“Hey Bambi, you going to teach those kids the moves you showed us last night? OW OWWWW!” Nick, another councillor walking by, yelled into the studio, breaking your concentration and your eyes threatened to well up.

“Bite me, Nick!” You spit back at him.

“Oh, I’d love too, baby. Name a time and place.” He then proceeded to wolf whistle at you.

You jump as the second studio door slams open behind you and you see Eddie as he storms out, leaving behind a stunned silence. You watch as he turns his back to you and disappears out of sight. The kids look at each other, unsure of what to do next, but Ashton steps up to take charge, saying they still have to listen to you.

You couldn’t help but want to run after Eddie, but you know that you have a job to do, so you turn your attention back to the task at hand.

—

“Name a time and place.” The second the words left that douchebag’s mouth, Eddie was fuming. How dare he embarrass you like that!

Eddie's legs started moving before my brain could compute what it was doing and before he knew it, Eddie had Nick pinned to the wall, bracing his throat with his forearm.

“I hear another comment from you about Y/N. You’re done!” He sneered.

“Whoah, dude, chill out. I was having some fun,” He defended.

His nameless friend tried pulling Eddie off, but he wasn’t letting go until Eddie heard Nick say it.

“I don’t think you understood me. You talk about her like that again, and I find out? We are going to have a big problem.”

Eddie could feel two pairs of hands pulling him off this Nick.

“Ok, Ed, we don’t want any trouble.” Steve’s voice came from behind,

“You didn’t hear the disgusting thing he said about Bambi.” Eddie was seeing red.

“Okay, dude, take a fifteen. I’ll help Ashton round up the kids for the next activity.” Steve spoke in a calming voice.

“I fuck, shit, ok. I... I don’t know what is wrong with me today… I just needed some space to clear my head.”

Eddie took a short walk to the lake shore, where no one was around. His temper has always needed work.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, looking around to make sure Carol was nowhere to be found before he lit up.

As he inhaled, a sense of relief washed over him. Eddie realized he hadn’t been able to sneak a cigarette since last night… that’s another reason he’s been so on edge.

Eddie sat by the water, inhaling the smoke, thinking about how he could fix things with you.

He fucked up, his own pride got the best of him, and he needed to apologize.

Looking around, Eddie spotted some wildflowers, and he got an idea.

—

Today was long, and you were exhausted mentally and physically. After the bonfire, you decided not to join the others and went to read instead. You needed some alone time; being around people twenty-four-seven for weeks on end can get overwhelming.

You walked into your empty cabin and spotted something on your bed that hadn’t been there before you left.

Sitting on your sleeping bag was a note with some purple and yellow wildflowers tied up with twine.

You reached down and picked up the note. It read: I’m sorry. Meet me tomorrow outside the mess hall at lunch if you want to talk.” - Lancelot a.k.a Eddie Munson a.k.a a big Moron

You smiled at the note, picked up the flowers, and put them in a cup of water on the bedside table.

Maybe tomorrow will be better…

—

You were anxiously waiting outside at 11:55 am. The sky was overcast, but the humidity was still lingering. You didn’t go in for food beforehand because you couldn’t stomach it until you knew what Eddie wanted to discuss.

“Good, you got my note.” He smiled shyly.

“Yeah, thank you,” you try smiling back.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for acting like a jerk the past few days…” he looked down at his shoes, not making eye contact.

“Yeah, you sure were acting like one.” You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes as a defence mechanism.

You wanted to accept his apology, but he must explain himself more.

“Princess, come on, don’t be a brat.” he was stern.

“Why are you being so mean?” You pout.

Eddie couldn’t resist when you made that face, all he wanted was to grab your face and kiss you when you make that face.

“Fuck, I don’t know? I like you, okay. You’re way cooler than I thought you would be, and you’d never be friends with someone like me.”

Friends

“Says who?” You swallow the lump in your throat.

“Everybody!”

“Ashley is my best friend you’re like the guy version of her!”

“It’s not the same!”

“How is it not the same?!”

You both were now yelling m, frustrated over the miscommunication.

“You don’t get it! You would never in a million years be with someone like me.”

“Eddie ple—"

BOOM

The air was tense as a deafening crack of thunder echoed through the sky. Startled, you let out a scream that was quickly muffled as Eddie's arms wrapped tightly around you, cradling you against his broad shoulder, acting out on instinct to protect you.

The scent of his woodsy pine deodorant and fresh aftershave washed over you, offering a small sense of comfort amidst the sudden roar of thunder.

You looked up into his eyes, you could tell he had so much more to say but as if on cue, another thunderclap rumbled overhead, followed by a blinding bolt of lightning that illuminated the sky. The downpour began in earnest, drenching everything in sight within seconds.

Without hesitation, Eddie grasped your hand firmly and guided you towards the safety of the mess hall, where the terrified children were already screaming in fear.

Your eyes rolled involuntarily at the situation, knowing that your conversation with Eddie would have to wait yet again as you worked to ensure everyone was accounted for and safe during the storm.

-

The storm had been raging for four hours, unleashing its fury on the hall, making it impossible to leave. The howling wind was like a freight train, and the rain was so heavy that it created a constant drumming on the windows.

The room lit up every few minutes as lightning struck, illuminating it in a dazzling display of light. Suddenly, the power went out, leaving the room in complete darkness. Thankfully, the backup generator kicked in after only ten minutes, providing some much-needed light and comfort.

Despite the chaos outside, you, Eddie and the other counsellors entertained the children, trying to keep their minds off the storm. Eddie had brought his guitar, and he sang every camp song he knew, turning the room into a makeshift concert hall. The children were delighted, and you couldn't help but smile as you watched Eddie interact with them. He had a way of making them feel special, especially the younger ones who clung to him like he was the coolest guy on the planet.

After about an hour, Eddie needed a break. You could tell he was getting tired, and his fingers were starting to ache. You teased Eddie, telling the kids that the “rockstar" needed his intermission.

They groaned but soon found something else to occupy their time. As the storm continued to rage outside, you caught Eddie looking at you several times. You tried not to look up, but you couldn't help but feel his gaze on you. It reminded you of the first night of the bonfire when you had both shared a moment. But now, you were unsure of what was happening between the two of you - it was uncomfortable and strange.

—

That night, you still managed to have a bonfire. The logs were luckily kept in a shed protected from the rain so they were still dry enough to burn even after the storm.

You hadn’t really felt better after Eddie’s interaction earlier… what did he mean by he liked you? Did he only want to be friends? He said the word friend.

You had been a lot quieter than usual, so Robin asked if you were okay. When you shook your head no, Robin pulled you off to the side, sneaking off to the dock while everyone was at the Bonfire.

You needed to vent to her; the agony of not knowing what Eddie thought of you was killing you, and you had to spill your guts to someone who wouldn’t judge you.

“I just don’t understand Birdie; I’ve been giving him so many hints, so many signals! I don’t think he’s into me.” You groaned.

“No, absolutely not. You’re a smoke show. He’d be blind not to like you, Bams… also I might have heard something from Steve.” She smiled.

“AND you’re just telling me now?!” You yelled, then quickly covered your mouth, forgetting you had snuck off and were supposed to be supervising the kids.

“Moose and Lancelot are roommates they talk. And he told Moose he doesn’t stop talking about you; he won’t stop gushing about how sweet and kind you are. He is super protective of you, and he told Moose no one should take advantage of you.”

“What I would give to have him take advantage of me.” You groaned in frustration.

Defeated, you lay backward on the dock, looking up at the stars. At this moment, you were really starting to second-guess your whole school persona. Maybe being a goodie two shoes wasn’t the way to go? Maybe you should have just been yourself from the start.

“Bams, listen, if anything, just think of how we managed to get some last summer.” She wiggled her brows, reminiscing on your extra curricular activities.

“I remember you telling me about that one move you did on Brandon that had him drooling over you?” You smirked at the memory.

Last year, Brandon was just a distraction for the summer, no real feeling, just friends doing one another a favour. You hadn’t really thought about him until now because he wasn’t back this summer.

“Yeah, he was a good time, but nothing more. With Eddie, I just can’t stop thinking about him. It’s like I can’t breathe or sleep without him on my mind!” You dragged your hands across your face.

“Girl, you got it, baaaaaaaad,”

Do do. You really, really do.

“I just don’t get it! I’ve been throwing myself at him for the past two weeks, Bird! I could literally be on my knees begging to be sucking Eddie’s dick, and he still wouldn’t get it through his thick head that that I like him, no correction, I’m in lo—”

“You could be doing what now?” Eddie voice echoed.

You freeze, you feel like your heart is about to fall out of your ass. You’re too scared to look, but Robin tugs you back to a seated position. How much had he heard?

Slowly, you both turn to see Eddie standing there, eyebrows raised, hair pulled back in a low bun, some pieces framing his chiselled face, black sweatpants and a band tee with his red flannel over the top; he stood alone with a marshmallow falling off the roasting stick.

He looked so handsome in the moonlight.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck” you mumble under your breath.

“I’m going to leave you two… to talk.” Robin stood, and you looked at her with pleading eyes for her not to leave.

“It will be fine, Bams. Just let go.” You realized you had grabbed her shirt sleeve.

As Robin walked away, Eddie slowly made his way towards you and took a seat on the wooden planks, where Robin had just been sitting. He let his legs dangle over the edge, his feet just barely brushing the surface of the water. In any other situation, the sound of the water hitting the shoreline would have calmed you, but now, it only aided your impending anxiety.

Eddie took a deep breath, about to speak, but you beat him.

“How much did you hear?” You pinched your brow bone.

“Enough” was all he said back.

“Well, if you excuse me, I’m going to go drown myself in the lake now. Bye.” You try to quickly stand up to walk away, but he also stands and reaches his arm out to stop you. You feel Eddie hold your hand, and a shiver runs through you; your flesh ignites into a million goosebumps.

Eddie just shook his head and laughed.

“You flatter me, Princess.” He was so calm, much different than this afternoon.

“Well, now that you, uh, know… I’ll just leave you alone.” You looked down at your hands and pulled away.

“Who said I want you to leave me alone?” He questioned.

“I... uh…well, you clearly aren’t interested in me like that , so I thought…” You shrugged your shoulders in defeat, still looking down.

“Princess, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.” His hand lifts up your chin, and you feel his warm breath on your face.

You try to look away, but something about the way his eyes catch the moonlight makes it impossible to avert your gaze. As you meet his stare, you can see that his eyes are the most beautiful shade of brown you have ever seen. They are soft and deep, and you can't help but get lost.

“Why did you leave the talent show?” You half whispered, too ashamed of the memory.

“I was embarrassed.” he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” You tried turning around to leave again, too ashamed of what you had done.

“No, Princess, you didn’t do anything wrong! I left because I couldn’t stop myself from… reacting to you.” He grasped your sleeve in his hand to stop you from leaving.

“I don’t understand?” You looked at him quizzically and let out a loud sigh.

“Princess, don’t make me say it.” He laughed uncomfortably.

“Eds, tell me… please.” You pleaded.

He looked at you momentarily, then looked down at the water splashing below.

“Princess, you really know how to make a man feel… certain things…” he tried explaining but was vague about it.

“oooookay?” You didn’t get it.

“I can’t do this to you,” he sighed.

“Do what?” You ask even more confused.

“You’re too innocent.” he shook his head.

“Innocent?!” You take a step back.

“Ugh, fine. You really want to know?” he raised his brows.

“YES!” Now you were beginning to get frustrated.

“You gave me a boner, okay!. That’s why I left.” His voice was stern again.

You stood there, dumbfounded.

Here you were all this time thinking you had made a fool of yourself when, in fact, the plan had worked all along.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Don’t laugh! I had a big problem and had to take care of it.”

“Oh, I’m sure it was a big problem.” you winked.

Eddie is caught off guard by your comment but his reaction was priceless.

“You should have stuck around; I could have helped you with that big problem.” you bite your lip and taking a step closer.

Your sudden confidence was strong.

“Princess…” His voice wavered.

“Yes, Eddie?” You whispered as you raised to my tip toes to kiss his neck.

“I.. oh god… Princess, I…I can’t do this,” He admitted.

You back away again as he speaks.

“Can’t? Or don’t want to?” You do your best to hold back a quiver of your lip. You don’t understand? Did he have a girlfriend?

“I would have to be clinically insane not to want to. Jesus, I just can’t, Princess, you’re too innocent!” emphasis on can’t.

“What do you mean innocent?” is the second time he has said this.

“You said it yourself! In the game of truth or dare, remember?! I can’t be the one you have your first experience with…” he trailed off,

Your look of confusion dissipates as the realization of Eddie thinking you’ve never slept with anyone before hits you.

“Who said I’m a virgin?” You cock your head and take a step closer to Eddie.

I…uh.. well, you know, I thought because you said no guy has ever made you… you know… and you have a reputation at home of being you know… a good girl.” He pleads his case.

“So because I didn’t let any of those high school boys touch me I must be still pure is that it?”

“Well— "

"They don’t know how to please a woman, Eddie… So what am I to do?" You took a step closer, filling the gap between you. “Let them feel me up, and be done within 2 minutes and leave me disappointed and dissatisfied… trust me, been there, done that.”

Eddie’s eyes blow wide open at your confession.

“I’m not going to have that happen just so Jason or Brad can go off bragging to all their friends about fucking the goodie-two-shoes cheerleader, making me a slut.… No. I didn’t let high school boys touch me. Besides, non of those meathead jocks are my type.”

“W-what is your type?” Eddie swallowed hard, scanning down your body, then back up, staring into your eyes.

“Musicians are kind of my thing, especially guitar players. They’re good with their hands…and I bet you can put yours to good use.” You placed your hand on his chest and pressed up on your toes to whisper in his ear.

A shiver ran up Eddie’s spine, and he was at a complete loss for words.

“Eddie, can you show me what all the other girls at home are dying to know?” you bite your lip once more.

“What’s… that?” He managed to get out.

“Oh, come on, Eddie. Like you don’t know?… I’m not the only one people at school use to talk about.”

“Oh, I know what people say about me. I’m a freak.” His tone was so serious.

“Not that.”

“Yes… that,” he hesitated.

“There is a rumour going around thatall the girls want to know.” You bite you lip. “Even if they don’t want to admit it; we all are curious.” Your hand slipped from his chest down his toned stomach to the waistband of his sweatpants

“Curious about what?” his breath was laboured.

“That you’re really… well equipped.” You tilted my head up to him, giving him a coy smile.

Eddie was still breathing heavily; he was getting more and more aroused by the second. Never had he thought he would get to see this side of you.

You could feel the pressure building in his pants as you pressed your body into his.

“From what I can feel, Eddie…” your hand ran down to his bulge from his waistband where it had been resting. “The rumours don’t disappoint.”

You raised up onto your tip toes again and tilted your head to place a gentle kiss on his neck.

“Come on, Eddie, you going to prove me right? Fuck me like I know you can? How I’ve been dreaming about?” You whispered in his ear, breath hot on his neck, praying that you once again were not coming on too strong, but at this point, you’d had enough runaround; it was now or never.

Something switched on inside Eddie. He was animalistic, almost primal. All the pent-up tension and flirting led to this moment. He didn’t think when grabbed your hand and ran. He needed to find you two somewhere private, and fast.

You realize he was leading you towards his van. So many nights you dreamed about him taking you into the back of it and ravaging you. You couldn’t help but giggle behind him as he pulled you towards the parking lot.

“Shit!” Eddie mumbled under his breath, realizing his keys were back at the cabin.

“I think I know a better spot.” You grabbed his hand and led him towards the other side of the lake opposite the bonfire.

It was almost 9:30. Robin could cover until it was free time for counsellors.

You brought Eddie to a hidden part of the campgrounds; through the clearing. Right beside the shoreline was a smaller abandoned cabin.

“This is a secret not a lot of people know about. It used to be another cabin used for bad campers, who need time outs or a break from everyone, but we don’t use it anymore.” You explained.

Inside was a double-size bed frame and mattress, some shelves, and a chair. It was a little dingy, but it would do.

You locked the door behind you; god forbid, a camper came exploring before bed.

You take a breath and walked over to Eddie, who was already sitting on the edge of the bed. You situated yourself so you are standing between his legs. Your faces were pretty much level in this position. Eddie sat there gazing up at you as you grabbed his hands and guided them to your waist, then slowly, you brought your hands up to the back of his neck.

“I hope you know I’ve wanted this since the tenth grade,” you whispered, still scared to admit it.

Eddie groaned and brought his lips to yours with a feverish wanting. You hadn’t felt a kiss like this ever. You swear you saw fireworks as your heart fluttered. The kiss was so good you couldn’t help but let a small moan slip.

Eddie started moving his hands down from your waist to your hips and across your ass. Feeling brave, he gave it a squeeze, and you giggled at the innocent action.

You bring your knees up on the bed to straddle him. You could feel his excitement immediately as you gently shifted your weight down on his lap.

Your lips never broke, only when you went to take off your hoodie and shirt.

Eddie admired your breasts that were situated right as his eyes level, he bent down to kiss and suck of the tops of your tits and he kneaded them in his hands.

You needed more, you wanted more so you began to grind your hips into him, again and again. Eddie moaned into your mouth, and you parted your lips letting him slip in his tongue. He tasted like cigarettes and s’mores.

You break the kiss and start working a trail of kisses down his neck.

God, the countless hours you’d daydream about leaving hickeys was finally a reality.

Your kiss trialled down and found the spot just under his jaw that made him moan your real name. It sounded so sweet coming from is lips. That you sucked on that one spot until you were satisfied with your mark. You wanted to claim him as your own. You trailed your hands down his chest until they were situated between you. You felt the cotton of his pants tented in your hand as you palmed his cock.

Eddie grabbed your hips and ground into you with more pressure, making you let out a breathy sigh.

“More, Eddie, I need more.”

“More what, baby? Tell me what you need.”

“You, please, I need you to make me feel good.”

You can feel the tension in his shoulder release.

He flipped you over, your back landing on the mattress, and he hovered over you.

“Such a good girl, using your words for me.” he pulled off your sweatpants, exposing your black lace panties. "You going to let me be in control?"

"Yes" you whisper.

"Tell me what you want." he conmanded

“Please touch me, Eddie.” You had never felt this wet before. You led his hand to your pulsing heat, but he stopped at the hem of your waistband. He took charge when he hooked his fingers in and yanked them down. You were glistening; you could feel the string of wetness being pulled with your panties.

“Oh, baby…I knew you would have such a pretty pussy” he whispered, not breaking his eye contact.

The longer Eddie prolonged touching you the more brattier you became. You were a wreck. You needed any relief. You were almost crying; it was pitiful.

“Please, baby, I need you.” You whine.

Eddie leaned down to kiss you again before he moved to your neck.

Your breath hitched as he finally put his hands where you needed him most. He took no time to find your swollen clit; his fingers grazed over you in quick small circles with the perfect amount of pressure. You were putty in his hands.

“Oh baby, you’re so wet already? I’ve hardly even touched you; you’re just that much of a slut for me, hmm?” he spoke as he continued to kiss your neck.

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“Yes, what?” he pushed two fingers up, pumping into you.

Another pitiful moan fell from your lips as he stretched you out, but then he stopped moving his hands.

“I want you to say it.” His eyes were dark, almost black.

You were so turned on by this side of Eddie that you might explode.

“I’m… you're slut” you’re breathless.

"I'm you're slut... what?

"Sir?" you question.

"Close but not my favourite... no," he smirks. "Only certain girls get to call me this... it's special. You're special." His tongue flicks the skin of your neck and you shiver.

"What you're going to address me as is, Daddy. Is that okay with you, baby girl?"

"Yes, Daddy," your head was spinning.

“Good girl.” He pulled out his fingers; you almost protested but saw he was removing his shirt, so you waisted no more time to remove your bra.

“What was it you said, baby? You could be on your knees begging for my cock? We’ll look who’s on their knees for this sweet little pussy.”

Eddie didn’t give any time to react because he licked his tongue from your weeping hole to your clit.

“Oh my god,” your hand gripped his hair, and your eyes rolled back into your head.

“Not god, baby, just me.” He winked, and you tried to roll your eyes at his ridiculousness, but he cut you off by latching back onto your clit.

Eddie ate your pussy like he was worshiping you. You felt the oh-so-familiar pleasure that you only feel when you’re alone, build and build.

“Holly shit, Eddie,” you moaned and he stopped.

"Am I going to have to punish you?"

"No, I'm sorry."

"That's okay, I'll forgive you this time." Eddie latched his lips back down on yours quickly; your orgasm was building as his skilled tongue worked your pussy.

“You’re such a good girl, come on baby, I know you can do it” he replaced his mouth with his fingers, and he easily slipped two inside, his words making your pussy clench.

“Oh, you like being called a good girl, don’t you, sweetheart.” He cooed in your ear.

"Yes, Daddy." You moan his name repeatedly like a prayer.

“Oh, you definitely like it; I can feel you squeeze my fingers whenever I say it.” He mused.

“Please… stop teasing me; I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” you begged him.

“Oh, have you now? Tell Daddy more.” Eddie pumped his fingers slowly; it was agonizing.

“Please just fuck me, Eddie! Please, I’ve wanted you from the first time I saw you. I need you, only you, please.” Your admission came out as a whisper.

“I’ll take good care of you, Princess. But we will have to work on the Daddy thing.” He kissed you so softly at first, then it turned into something so much more passionate; he slipped his tongue in, and you accepted it willingly.

He was so addictive, like your own personal drug. You’ve felt your first hit and you needed more.

Eddie trailed his hands down your body as he continued to kiss you. You can’t help but grinding your hips against his cloth-covered pelvis, leaving a wet sticky mess in your wake.

“Please, I want your cock so bad, give it to me, it’s ok I’m on the pill.” You begged, realizing he probably didn’t have a condom.

He pulled out his cock out of his pants so fast your eyes widened at the size, the rumours were in fact true.

You instinctively went to reach for him; mouth already salivating. Eddie watched you lick your lips, but he pushed you back down on the bed.

“Next time, sugar,” he kissed your neck again. Fully knowing if your mouth went anywhere near his cock he would be cuming at a speed that would definitely embarrass him.

“Next time?” You gasp.

“Oh yeah, Princess. Not giving you up just yet.”

You gasped once again, only this time his mouth latched onto your own when he finally pushed your legs wider so he could run himself through your wet pussy folds.

He slowly eased his way in. It burned how he stretched you out, but it was so good that you wanted more. He was long and thick, the biggest you’ve had yet.

When he bottomed out, another feral noise was unleashed from your lungs.

“That’s it, baby, let the whole camp know what a slut you are for me.” He started slowly thrusting so you could adjust properly to his size. His words only made you more aroused.

You kissed him again and begged for more once your body adjusted to Eddie.

He unexpectedly grabs both of your ankles and throws your legs over his shoulders, and his thrusts start to speed up.

“Oh, look at you taking Daddy's cock so well; your little pussy is sucking me in so good.” You looked down the valley of your breast at him, watching as he fucked into you.

“Fuck oh! My god! Yes!” You reached for him; he leaned down, bending your legs to your ears

You’re thanking the heavens right now that you’re this flexible because the new angle was even deeper. Your mouths latched on to one another, and you kissed him hard.

His thrusts were deep but not enough; Eddie could sense that it was going to take a little bit more work to get you off because he was already close.

“Turn over, baby, show me that perfect ass.” He let go of your legs and sat up.

Quickly you turned over, ass on full display. You gasped as a hard SMAK echoed through the room.

“Had I known you were this much of a slut for me, I would have had you months ago.” He growled.

“Would have let you fuck me back in high school”

You feel him bend down, nipping the bottom right side of your ass cheek, exactly where the little heart tattoo was.

“God, you’re sexy.” He breathed between your legs before shoving his face neck into your pussy one more time.

You wiggled your ass into him letting gone another moan.

“Can’t get enough of this fucking pussy” Eddie’s eyes roll back in his head.

“Eddie, baby, I need your cock so bad.” You whine as he lines himself up at your soaking entrance. You could feel your slick dripping down your inner thighs; you were so wet.

When Eddie slipped back into you, your hands give out, and your face falls into the mattress. He slipped his hand around to play with your clit as he pounds into you from behind.

He was so deep, you felt so full. He was the best you’ve ever had. Maybe it was the emotions behind who it was, or maybe he was just that good; one thing is for sure: you would never give this up for anything.

“That right, baby, who owns this pussy.” His dirty words only turned you on more.

Your orgasm was so close. The way your body was tightening, your teeth gritted as you tried to hold it together.

“Yo—oh god yes…. fuck” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his thrusts only quickened and went even deeper if that was even possible.

another SMAK

“I said, who does this pussy belong to?” You could hear him speaking through his teeth.

“FUCK… you! Daddy! It’s all yours! Only yours! I want to be yours,” you screamed in pleasure.

“That's fucking right” The tips of his fingers dug deeper into your hips, using you as he pleased, and you let him. At this point you would do anything for him the way he was making you feel in this moment.

You were getting close; you heard him spit and felt something wet hit between your ass cheeks, and he grazed a finger over your tight, puckered hole, a new sensation you’d never felt before. Your head lolled back and moaned his name.

“Yeah, baby, you like it when I play with your little hole? Who knew you were a little slut for me?”

Me. I did.You think.

“Only for you, feels so good baby” you panted.

“Keep talking like that, Princess. I’m close; I know you are, too. Tell me, how my cock makes you feel” his breath was becoming laboured.

“Feels…so good, I’ve never! Never had anyone make me feel this good.” It was the truth.

He hunched over further, grabbed your chest, and lifted your upper body so your back was pressed parallel to his chest as he continued thrusting up into you. The new angle is even more satisfying than the last.

He grabbed your breast and was playing with your nipples, pinching and squeezing with one hand and mimicking the same on your clit with the other. Eddie kissed down the side of your neck, and you could feel the hickeys forming, not caring at the moment what people would say in the morning about the marks.

“Im so close,” you barely made out as a whisper.

“Come, baby, be my good girl; come for me.” His voice was deeper, sultry. You grabbed his wrist of the hand that was on your clit to brace yourself.

Your body quivered as your orgasm hit you, unlike any other you could give yourself.

Your legs gave out, and you fell to the mattress, ass still in the air for Eddie to keep going until he had his way with you. Almost overstimulated, Eddie finished pulling out of you at the last second.

You can hear moaning from above as the hot liquid coats your ass and lower back. Laboured breathing started to become even as the cum was dripping between your cheeks.

You were about to sit up and get cleaned when you felt Eddie grab your ass cheeks and stick his tongue on your tight hole to lap up his mess.

“Holy shit,” you take in a sharp breath no one has ever touched you there before. You liked it.

Once he was finished, you rolled over to look at Eddie for the first time after everything the two of you had just done. Feeling dirty and a bit self-conscious, you let out a giggle. A bashful look crossed your face before you, and you looked away as soon as the two of you made eye contact.

“I hope that wasn’t too much.” He brushed the hair from your face behind your ear.

“No, I liked it,” you whispered.

“Next time someone asks who was the last person who made you cum you can say your knight in shining armour, Eddie Munson” He winked.

“Shut up!” You giggle.

You sat up, trying to find your discarded clothing, when you peered at his watch.

“Shit, it’s already twenty after eleven, we need to get back to the cabins! You rushed up gathering your clothing.

—

On your way back to the cabins, Eddie reached out for your hand. In some odd way, that felt more intimate, considering where they were minutes prior.

“So you going to tell me about that tattoo?” He wiggled his eyebrows

I laughed, “Um, not much to tell? I got a fake I.D. and went and got it with Ashley. She has a matching one.” At that moment, you thought Eddied eyes were about to pop out of his head.

“In the same place?” He questioned.

“Yep.” You nod.

“Oh, what I would give to see that.”

“There are many things we’ve done together you would pay for.” You stifle a giggle. Trying not to laugh at the innuendo.

“Go on..” his brows raised.

You thought about telling him, but did I want to break the innocent girl allusion fully? Or drag it on?

“Hmm, I don’t know if you can handle it?” You teased.

“Come on, I need to know now; you can’t just say something like that!”

“Fine, but only because you earned it… you cannot tell Ashley, you know, but how do you think I got so good at kissing?” You winked.

Eddie dropped to his knees. His dramatics never failed to make you laugh.

“Come on, get up. We can’t get caught.” You pulled him up and you continued to walked back to the cabins.

When you returned, the lights were on, so you knew the girls were waiting up for you.

“So… this is me,” you say stupidly.

“So it is…” Eddie looked around awkwardly.

“Um, goodnight.” Would he kiss you? would this just be a one-night stand?

Your thoughts were cut off by Eddie’s lips back on yours. You sink into the kiss as his lips moulded into you. You let out a soft moan and he pulls away.

“You can’t do that to me, princess, or else I’m going to pick you up and take you back to that cabin.” He sighed.

“I’m sorry,”

“So I know we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere at work, but can I take you out on a date sometime?”

“I would love that,” you smiled.

You reached on your tip toes to give him one last kiss before slipping back into the cabin.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” you whispered.

“Oooo goodnight Eddie,” you can hear Robin mocking you from the other side. You roll your eyes and hear Eddie laughing.

“Goodnight ladies.” He gives you a wink before you shut the door.

You turned around and waited a good ten seconds before you could hear Eddie enter his cabin before you let yourself squeal while jumping up and down. The girl’s reactions were priceless.

“Tell us everything!” Nancy clapped with excitement.

“I don’t even know where to begin.” You flopped onto your bed with a sigh.

“That good huh?’ Clover giggled.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk tomorrow.” You laughed.

“Details now! but not too many details.” Robin sat down in front of the bed like you were about to read a bedtime story.

“Well, I can definitely say he’s the best I’ve ever had.” You fanned yourself with your hand.

“Did he make you cum?” Robin flat-out asked.

“Ooh, definitely,” you laughed, still on your post-orgasm high.

“Bitch! How big? Tell me when to stop.” Clover was moving her hands father and father apart. I waited as she slowly brought her hands to create a gap that was about 9 inches.

“Stop!” I said once she got there.

“Shut up, no way!” Nancy gasped.

“We saw him in that bathing suit. There is no way he is hiding all that!” Robin laughed.

“Trust me, girls, it’s big,” I sighed.

You decide to get up and get ready for bed when you hear a gasp.

“Oh my god, what is he a vampire?! He ate your neck!” Robin’s eyes were wide as you took off your hoodie.

You ran to the bathroom mirror to check out the damage.

“Holly shit! What am I going to do?!”

It was bad. Three large hickeys covered your neck, and there were more on your chest that would one hundred percent show when you put on any of your bathing suits.

The girls came up behind you to observe for themselves in the bathroom mirror.

“I’ll grab some spoons and ice!” Clover shouted.

Five minutes later, she returned with some ice and spoons in a bag.

You tried to eliminate the bruising for twenty minutes, but it seemed useless.

“Maybe we can do face painting tomorrow, and no one will see?” Robin suggested.

“I don’t think that will work, Birdie, face painting is the day after tomorrow.” Nancy sighed.

“Guess I’ll have to wear them with pride,” you nervously laughed.

You know the guys will not let you live this down until they see you tomorrow morning.

—

“Goodnight, gentlemen.” Eddie was floating on could nine as he strolled into his cabin.

“Where the fuck were you, dude? You owe us big time covering for you!” Ash got out of his bunk.

“Shit, sorry, man, thank you.”

As Eddie sits down, all the guys can hear is muffled squealing from your cabin.

“The hell was that?” Steve’s head shoots up from his bunk.

“They probably saw a spider or some shit.” Billy huffed and rolled over.

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh at himself because he knew the true meaning behind the excitement.

“Dude, so where were you? Ashton asked.

"I will not kiss and tell.” Eddie kicked off his boots and got up to find his pyjama pants.

“Yea right” Billy snorts.

“Dude! Holy shit, who did that to you?” Eddie heard Steve speak as he stripped off his shirt, revealing his naked torso.

“What do you mean?” Eddie laughed.

“Dude, did she attack you?” Ashton's eyes bulged out of his head at the bruising you had caused, attracting the attention of the other two bunkmates.

“Quit checking me out, man,” Eddie laughed.

“Dude! Who did you get with?” Billy asked excitedly.

“I’m not telling,” Eddie smiled as he walked to the bathroom and shut the door.

He could hear their muffled guesses while brushing his teeth, shaking his head at their guesses.

“Bambi, it was 100% her!” Ashton was fighting with Billy.

“No way, man, it was Sarah!” Billy was in such denial.

“Bicker all you want. I’m not telling,” Eddie chuckled as he exited the bathroom.

“Fine, we will just see who else has some early hickeys in the morning.” Steve winked and climbed back into his bunk.

Shit, you’re going to kill him… well worth it.

Next chapter

Tags: @winchester-angel @josephquinnsfreckles @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @emma-munson @littlexdeaths @siriuslysmoking @peachysink @nailbatanddungeon @leelei1980 @daisy-munson @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @strangerstilinski @bl0ssomanddie @seb-buckybarnes @chickenandsheep-blog @lokis-army-77 @ali-r3n @erinekc @impmunson @snowflowersstars246 @micheledawn1975 @princesatracionera @bells-28 @kellsck @guineveresghost @ezzynf @oneforthemunny @brxkenartt @ktiutsa @sofiaadela

[uplatterme]

all out?

—sub!scara/dom!reader, amab!reader | office sex, exhibitionism

—not beta read so excuse some mistakes if there are any TT

honestly, scaramouche should have seen this coming.

he stares at his empty cabinet, dumbfounded that there’s nothing inside it. surely not…

the balladeer wants to scream. just his luck, that it happened today too, when there’s a meeting scheduled that he cannot skip.

“fuck.”

the harbinger walks through the chilling halls of the zapolyarny palace. the cold has never bothered him in any shape or form, yet today proves to be an exception.

there are lower-ranked fatui passing by, hastily running off, not wanting to meet his gaze. an action that he isn’t unfamiliar to.

he hisses and stops when a certain ginger blemishes his view.

“looks like someone’s having a bad day!” he greets.

for a moment there, scaramouche thinks that he’s caught red-handed. not until he realizes that the youngest harbinger couldn’t have possibly seen through his facade.

“you’re deafeningly loud.” he bites back, continuing his steps despite the aching in his lower half.

“ah, still the same as ever. not that im surprised.” he says, chuckling echoing through the halls.

“the meeting’s to start in a few, although the director and the overseer hasn’t arrived yet.” tartaglia informs.

he flushes at the mention of your title, the one behind this problem that he’s facing right now.

“hello?” he calls out.

“can you learn to shut up just at least once?!” he yells.

currently, he sits on the chair provided for him, next to pulcinella and sandrone. as long as he doesn’t get seated next to that blue-haired freak, he considers any situation to be pleasant.

the door opens with a slam and the rest of the harbingers bow their head as greeting. there you stand, that folder you always carry in your arms and a pen between your fingers.

that’s when the memories comes back to him.

flashes of each time you’ve ripped his underwear with those fingers of yours, the scene claws into his brain as he bows down his head in unison with the others.

it was fine the first time. it was only a one-time thing, after all.

oh, how naive he was thinking that.

he then realizes that it wasn’t a one-time thing, seeing as there’s none of them left in his cabinet, forced to attend this meeting with his cock slapping against his thigh each time he walks.

it’s embarrassing. he seethes at your voice, talking about some topic that he couldn’t give a shit about. he adores when your tone is like that, commanding and strict. the more you speak, the more the harbinger wants to cave in.

his cock presses hardly to his shorts, begging for any kind of attention. unfortunately, he’s forced to endure it. to sit there in agony while he stares at you, giving out orders.

oh, how he wishes that you bend him against the table right now.

he can see it visibly twitch from underneath his clothing. if you were to see this, what would you have done? scaramouche’s imagination runs wild, thinking of how you’d make him take your cock. overusing his body and milking him dry. a doll, whose only purpose is to serve you.

“balladeer?” he snaps back to reality, hearing you mention him.

he bites back a needy whine, feeling everyone’s attention now centered on him.

“yeah?” he spit out, his eyes meeting with yours.

“you’ll be sent off to a separate mission, is that all right with you?”

god, you could ask him to do anything and he’d agree.

“sure.”

when the meeting ends, his body was moving on its own, moving towards you to grab you and pinning you to the wall.

“you! you better take care of this!” he shouts.

you were confused at first but it didn’t take you long to see his cock fully outlined through his tight shorts.

“why should i? you’re the one who decided to attend this meeting like that.”

he groans. he does not have the time for any of your teasing right now.

“you kept tearing through—just, ugh!

fuck me already!”

his voice echoes throughout the room. he would have never expected this kind of situation to happen but he needed you so badly. he’s been hot and bothered ever since this morning.

he lets out a relieved groan once he feels his abdomen pressing on the table.

then, next comes the sound of his shorts being ripped apart. he would have complained about your tendency to tear through his clothes but all the complaints in his head goes away once he feels your fingers digging inside of him.

“hnngghh—fuck, finally. only thing you’re fucking good for—oh god!”

“shit, shit, shit!”

his face presses up on his hands, far too drunk as drool goes down his chin. he’s loving each movement inside of him, the satisfaction and pleasure you give are intoxicating him and he wants more.

his body squirms, his feet constantly misplacing themselves on the floor. his dick leaking precum as you stroke it at a pace, leaving him panting and breathing like a dog who had just gone for a run.

“look at you, all loose already…your body’s just made for fucking, isn’t it? always wanting to prove something when you can just show everybody how much of a cumdump you are.”

scara grunts at your insult (praise?), wanting to spit back something to defend himself. but his body is then shifted around, his back laying on the cold table as you took no time in penetrating his hole.

his mouth is left wide open by the stretch. it burns but god, he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the pain. the pain that would soon then transition into pleasure by each. single. thrust.

pounding into him mercilessly, his mouth being covered by his own mouth to desperately hide his cries from enjoying it too much, smiling underneath.

eventually, he just decides to let go. his hands reaching up to fondle his own chest, playing with his nipples while you shape him into your own cocksleeve, his leg up as you wanted better access into fucking him as much as you can.

scara’s so damn loud. of course, he doesn’t notice it. nor does he notice a certain redhead blushing needing to do a double take to see if he’s seeing the right thing.

“f-fill me up! fuck, please!”

“haaah—! more, more!”

after a while, those sentences are no longer coherent as he’s turned to just moaning and whimpering, slurring his words that you can barely understand.

the table is a cum-filled mess, his dick spurting out white as his eyes roll back the furthest they can into his head.

and yet, he doesn’t stop.

even better, he’s started to match your rhythm and grind himself onto you.

there’s a bit of a swelling in his belly from your cum and yet that isn’t seen as a blockade.

each thrust, your cum slipping out of him and back into him and the warm feeling of your stickiness is just enough to send him over the edge.

in the end, he’s left with a satisfied smile. laughing and chuckling while struggling to breathe, his walls aching and not sure if he wants more or to just stop moving for as long as he can.

one thing’s for sure though,

he’s completely forgotten that his shorts are torn apart.

[thefreakandthehair]

The tile floor is disgusting. 

Not Starcourt disgusting, but disgusting all the same. Grime build-up colors the grout lines, the back of his head is damp from condensation that drips down the sink he’s resting against, and there’s a damp spot beneath his left calf that he sincerely hopes is just the aftermath of someone washing their hands. A single lightbulb hangs in the center of the ceiling, dim but not flickering. 

Thank God, it’s not flickering.

It’s not the place to have a meltdown— he knows it’s not— but rationality is just the latest in the ever- growing list of things fighting the Upside Down took from him. After all, the dingy basement bathroom of a stranger’s house party is better than the densely populated living room of a stranger’s house party. 

He wishes Robin was with him, but he can’t bring himself to tear her away from the first real party she’s enjoyed. It’s not her fault that crowds set him on edge these days, or that he can’t stand the feeling of unfamiliar bodies pressing against him anymore, or that small talk about how humid it’s been lately makes him want to rip his hair out because how can anyone possibly give a fuck about the weather when the world nearly ended six months ago? No one outside of the group he’s come with gets it and he wonders if even in that group, even with the people he’s bled with, if he’s an outlier. 

No one saw him sneak down here.

He’s not expecting anyone to come looking for him. 

He should’ve known better. 

“Steve?” A voice whispers from outside the door. “Steve, it’s me. Open the door.” 

Robin. Of course. 

Steve drags a hand down his face, hovering near his nose where his fingers tremble at the bridge, and lets out a deep exhale before reaching over and unlocking the door. 

Wordlessly, he rights himself against the sink again as Robin locks the door behind her and sits cross-legged next to him. Silence sits with them, a welcome guest now with Robin’s comforting presence, her head tipping to lean on his shoulder and his falling to rest on hers. 

They sit like this for long moments, silence and the scent of Robin’s strawberry shampoo grounding him in the present. There’s no emergency, no threat, not when Robin is safe and clean and warm right next to him. 

Finally, he breaks the stillness. “You don’t have to sit here, you can go back to the party. It’s fucking gross down here.” 

“It’s way more gross upstairs without you there.”

“Oh c’mon, everyone’s up there. Eddie, Nancy, Argyle, Jonathan. Vickie.” He looks down and grins, one eyebrow quirked up. 

Robin rolls her eyes playfully and gently elbows him in the side. “Shut up, oh my God. She’ll be there when we go back up or I can call her tomorrow. Besides, she’s with Nancy and Jonathan looking for you.” 

“Looking for me? Fuck, I didn’t think anyone would notice—”

Robin pats his thigh and cuts him off. “It’s fine, they all know you’re okay but we just didn’t wanna leave you alone in the Brain Tornado.” 

“Brain Tornado?” Steve asks. 

“Argyle’s words, not mine. But it’s fitting, don’t you think?” 

Steve contemplates for a few seconds, considering the years worth of fighting and hoping and living that spin him around in untethered and unpredictable circles. 

“Yeah, yeah it is.” Steve sighs. “How’d you know where I was anyways?” 

“I know you.” Robin says, simple and matter of fact, as if it’s not the best response he could’ve gotten. She readjusts her position to stretch out both legs in front of her and Steve reminds himself that they’re both in jeans and not Scoops uniforms. 

“I just don’t know how to fucking relate to people anymore, Rob. And the crowds, if something were to happen and I couldn’t get to the bat in my trunk fast enough, or get to you or Nancy or Eddie—”

“Hey, it’s okay, we’re all okay,” Robin rubs her thumb in soothing circles into his bicep with her opposite hand. “We’re safe. We won. It’s gone.” 

She says this like an oath and Steve wants to swear to it. It’s just hard. 

“I know. But it’s still… I don’t know. This huge thing happened and no one else knows, so we’re in this sea of people who have no idea we all nearly died six months ago? And they look at me like I’m still Party King Steve Harrington when that guy did eat it three years ago.” His heart begins to slow and he sighs, less anxious and more confused. 

“I’m not gonna pretend I know what to say to that because you’re right, but there are at least five other people here right now who get it. And we’re the lucky sons of bitches, getting to know the Real Steve Harrington anyways.”

Steve can’t help the delicate thing that blooms in his chest when he’s reminded of the odd little family he’s built around himself. Or, in some cases, that forcibly built themselves around him. 

“Besides,” Robin smirks and Steve immediately knows what’s coming, telepathic communication and all. “Some people upstairs really like the Real Steve Harrington. And he might be going a little insane looking for you outside with Argyle.” 

“Shut up, oh my God.” He mimics her tone from earlier and drapes an arm around her shoulders, his voice softening. “We’ll go up in a few minutes?” 

He doesn’t need to say it. Steve knows Robin hears what he means. 

Just a few more minutes with you, and then I can face the world. 

happy (sorta belated) birthday to @stobinesque! I know I already sent this so it's not technically late but the last couple days have been a little wild so I'm just late to posting. <333

[fatal-thoughts]

Just thinking about a toxic !Katsuki that fucking wants you, despite you being with his bestfriend... Kirishima.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Eijirou couldn't help but twitch when he saw Katsuki hold your waist like that.

A part of him was trying to convince himself that it was probably just a mistake or something. That Katsuki didn't really mean to hold you there.

Oh but he did.

And Kirishima saw it. But he pushed the thought away. Katsuki was his bestfriend! He'd never do that to him. Not to mention he's head over fucking heels for you! You two won't ever betray him like that, right?

But just in case, even though he really fucking wishes it wasn't the case. He's gonna be keeping an eye on Bakugo from now on.

That's exactly why he called you when he did. Katsuki was getting too fucking close to you, more than his liking.

He didn't see exactly what he was doing, but he knew something was up.

And God, you felt horrible.

You felt so horrible for feeling so tempted.

Katsuki knew what he was doing to you. He knows he's so dangerously close to pushing you off the edge and into his arms.

You kept looking at Kiri, feeling so sick knowing how you feel for his own bestfriend. You love Kiri, you really do, and he knows it.

He's the sweetest thing to ever come into your life and you could never be more grateful to have him in your life. And he feels the same about you.

God, it feels fucked. It feels so fucked to know you're starting to crave Katsuki more day by day.

But fuck, did he want you so badly.

But you know better than that, you know better than to give in to his twisted desires. So you started pushing him away more often, not giving him the chance to even touch you anymore.

But it pissed him off. It pissed him off because he knew you wanted this just as much as he did.

So when you pushed him away for the last time, he grabbed you by your wrist and held them still behind you.

You gasped, feeling his grip on you tighten each time you try to break free.

"C'mon, Y/n... What's the point, huh?"

He leans down to your neck, using his free hand to slowly pull down the collar of your shirt.

"I know you fucking want this just as much as i do."

His hand traces your waist up to your shoulder. You could feel his hot breath on your neck, so close that you could practically feel his lips brush against you and fuck, it drove you insane.

He suddenly kisses your neck, sending alarms in your brain to stop. To tell him to stop, this is wrong. You have a boyfriend! Not to mention his bestfriend!

"But... But Katsuki-"

"I won't tell."

He says after he kisses your neck,

"And you won't either... will you, Y/n?"

Your breath gets caught in your throat. Exactly, you won't tell anyone, will you?

After all, what Kiri doesn't know won't kill him right?

Atleast that's what you thought.

Katsuki managed to leave bold hickeys on your neck, and fuck, did you love every single one. He let's go of your wrist, knowing you wouldn't push him away this time.

He wraps his hands around your body, feeling every single possible inch of you. When you face him, he spent no spare moment pulling you in for a kiss.

A kiss that shouldn't have happened.

You shouldn't do this.

This is wrong.

You know it is.

But by god, did he kiss you so damn good.

He pulled you in deeper, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. He let's out a low growl as he feels your lips on his.

He wanted you so badly, he needed you for so long now. Fuck the system. He doesn't care if it's wrong. He just knew he needed you.

And damn it is he gonna have you.

He removed his jacket, prying it off him as he need to fucking savor this with you.

He was just about to remove your shirt until..

"Y/n!"

You heard your boyfriend call you from the other room.

You panicked, just about to leave till Katsuki grabs your arm.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

You look at him in disbelief. What did he just say?"

"Katsuki! Let me go, I have to get to Kiri before he-"

"No."

He pulls you back to his chest. Without any hesitation or fear of getting caught whatsoever.

"You are not gonna leave me here for that shitty-hair."

He leans down to your face, whispering with that shit eating grin of his and those eyes that spoke so much more than what he'd say.

"We are finishing what we started. And we're not stopping till we're done."

You almost couldn't believe what he was saying. You looked at the door, knowing your boyfriend could easily just burst in and see you and Katsuki.

"Y/n, baby! Where are you?"

As you were about to head towards the door, Katsuki pins you to the wall. His thigh going in between your legs, stopping you from trying to escape.

You covered your mouth from letting out a moan as he grinds his thigh up to your sensitive spot.

Katsuki, the sadistic bastard he is, leans down and whispers to you.

"Tell him you're busy."

You hesitate, in one hand you really fucking want this with Katsuki. But your poor boyfriend...

Suddenly, Katsuki puts his hand in between your legs, feeling you there as if it was his to ever touch.

You've never surpressed a moan so hardly.

"Wanna tell him or should i?"

Meanwhile, Kirishima heard everything. He knew you and Katsuki were in there. But he wanted to see if you'd say no.

But poor Kiri, his heart was broken. So, so broken.

He couldn't believe you two would do that to him.

But all of his anger was mostly towards Bakugo. He was his bestfriend goddammit! How could he? How could he do this to him?

But Kiri gave you one last chance. In this moment, would you tell him the truth? Or would you lie to him?

One chance.

"Baby! C'mon, what are you doing in there?"

Katsuki looks at the door then at at you, waiting for your answer. His hand still touching you there.

"C'mon, Y/n, tell him.."

(So what will it be? Will you tell him the truth? Or break his heart and lie?)

(Since you guys lied the first one so much, i thought to make a part 2. Definitely will have a part three depending on what you guys think.)

(It's 12am midnight right now, so expect that to be the time where i'd typically write/post. And again, apologies for any typos.)

(I'm new to this whole tumblr post thing so getting that much likes at my first post definitely shocked me.)

(Thanks for the love on part 1, seems like yall love a toxic Bakugo<33)

[snowsinterlude]

❛ 📖 - admit it.❜

(coriolanus x f. reader)

summary: no matter what coriolanus would tell you, you'd never admit that you felt something for him other than hate. or at least you thought. based on this ask

c.w: enemies to lovers but both are in love, smut, nsfw, hate fucking in the beginning, classroom sex, humiliation, degrading, p in v, overstimulation, dumbification, choking, fem reader, oral recieving (m. recieving), dom coriolanus.

you and coriolanus snow had a very strange relationship, to say the least. you were one of the main things he genuinely smiled to. you, on the other hand, prayed to god that he would choke on his bread and die.

or so you thought.

the more you said you hated him, the more your brain seemed to think about him. his gentle tone of voice when you debated with him seemed to make your heart heavy with each beat. the way he never seemed angry at you even when you cussed him and cursed his entire generation. or even the way his knee brushed against yours when you both had to sit side by side in the library.

hands on the desk, you gathered your things as the entire class vanished with the blink of an eye, only to be surprised with him leaning in on you, his hands grabbing the desk as there seemed to be a spark on his eyes while his lips curled up in a smirk, a devious smirk you wish to choke out of him.

"what are you doing?" you asked, angrily frowning at him.

"i'm trying something new." he said, towering over him.

"try it on someone else." you said, shoving your books into your bag and zipping it up.

"stop being so stubborn. i just need you to tell me the truth." he said, supporting himself on the desk in front of you as he pushed you to sit, kindly. it seemed like there was no violence on his being when it comes to you.

"what truth? the truth that i want to choke that dumb smirk off your lips?" you said, almost barking at him as you looked up to his eyes. of course. if you looked at the part of his body that was facing you, you would be damned.

"no, dear. the truth that you like me. like, actually like me." you gulped down, looking up at him before standing up abruptly.

"if that's what people are telling you then you should find a better brain to stop believing in that shit." you said right to his face, turning your back on him and walking away, only to be stopped in your way as he grabbed your arm and pushed you back, the surprise taking over your expression as your face met his chest.

"no one told me, dear." he said, looking down at you because of the size difference. "no one other than you, actually."

oh.

what?

"when did that happen? and where? in your dreams?" you asked, voice filled with loathe. ah, he found you so pretty. such a cute face.

"no. yesterday."

"yesterday i slapped you."

"yeah, but do you remember what you said?" he asked, taking the lead and to courage to kiss your forehead, your cheek, then your neck. you shivered, being held by his hands as yours pawed on his chest.

"stop that- that's a lie. i never said that!" you debated, trying to get away from him. luckily for him, you didn't even try your hardest.

"i'm gonna ask you again, okay? try to clear up your memories." he said "what did you told me yesterday, alongside with the lines 'get out of my head'?"

you flinched as you remembered. yesterday was the announcement of the hunger games, you remembered drinking a bit too much posca.

"...please tell me i throwed up on your shoes." you pleaded, eyes closing shut.

"much worse, dear." he chuckled. "you told me 'i can't stop thinking about you, day and night i crave for the moment i'll be on top of you, choking you while i-" you interrupted him with a slap on his face, your eyes welling with shining tears.

"i got it. stop talking." you said, gulping down the humiliation. you got out of his hold, stepping away and trying to leave, only to be prevented again. "let me go, please."

"it seems like i can't do such a thing, dear." he said, kissing the knuckles of your hand.

"why? aren't you done humiliating me?"

"no, it happens to be that i am also desiring for you to do that." he said, and you knew what he was referring to. "but it seems like i want to hear you say something, too."

"thus being..?" you arched your brow

"say you love me." he said, in a purr

"no. never. i don't." you tried to pull away. not strong enough.

"you do. admit it." and you said don't, only for him to say "let me do only one thing, then" you didn't say anything for the first time. didn't fought back, didn't debated, and he smiled, kissing you deeply and holding you by the waist.

you gave in completely, his lips kissed yours non-stop, peck after peck, kiss after kiss, and when you noticed, you had your legs wrapped around his waist, trying to get some friction while he sat you on a desk, you mewling as he sucked on your boobs and kissed your sensitive neck.

"snow, snow- stop it. please. s-somebody will come in and-" another moan, this time due the way his teeth bite your nipple kindly, sucking on it.

"and they will see that you're so in love with me you didn't even held back to open your legs." he teased, kissing your lips as you stared at him, a trembling frown on your forehead. "on your knees."

you obeyed, almost in a trance. yeah, it had to be a trance. some kind of hypnotic trick he did on you, because the way you melted when seeing his cock made your brain wash away every coherent thought as you sucked his tip, licking the pre cum of his angry cockhead.

"god, you're so eager, i didn't even need to tell you what to do." he chuckled, caressing your hair as you kissed the tip before engulfing all you could into your pretty mouth, the sounds you made on his dick driving him crazy with the unknown need he had to have you sucking him, looking him with that angry and needy stare you gave him.

you were irresistable to him. a need that he didn’t knew he needed. the seconds went flying as you bobbed your head on him, holding his hips as he fucked your throat just as eagerly as you.

he pulled you away, preventing himself from cumming on your mouth.

"ready to admit it?"

"coriolanus, i don't love you." you said, as breathless as he was.

"you just sucked my cock and you're gonna say you don't have the tiniest bit of affection for me?" he arched his brow, chuckling as he got you sat again, panties drenched with your wetness as you opened your legs without him even telling you to. "and yet you still spread your legs apart to show me just how wet you are." he said, pecking your lips again with a devious smile. "what a dirty girl we have here, huh."

you mewled at the feeling of his tip teasing your clit, your pussy was just too wet for your liking. when he pulled your panties aside, being met with your cries-without-tears and the glistening view of your wet cunt, he laughed, frowning at you as his thumb teased your sweet clit.

"and here i was thinking this thing of 'your body tells the truth' was wrong." he said, looking at your flustered face. "dear, your body is telling me what you don't."

"i don't love you, it is just a physical common reaction t-to intimacy." you groaned, feeling your gummy walls meeting the tip of his cock. "fuck-!"

"what is it? i thought you said something." he teased you. "you know, i guess i can't hear you because of all those wet sounds your cunt is making." he said, grunting when he went all the way into you.

it felt so good. your brain was a mess. you were a mess. everytime he thrusted back and forth into you your moans couldn't be stopped, and his soft groans and grunts and the way he talked so dirty about how wet and nasty you were, your pussy clenched more on his cock. god, it was so good. it felt so good. his tip kissing your cervix just the right way, finding your pleasure spot and hitting it multiple times when he noticed how good you seemed to be feeling.

however, fucking in missionary was making you feel a terrible sensation that you would end up saying-

"i-i l...love you- f-fuck, coryo! i love you!" you cried out, every deep thrust he gave you making you melt into a mess of moans and cries of love. his eyes shone, meeting your crying teary ones.

"repeat it? i think i didn't heard you right." he teased, licking your tears.

"i love you! stop- stop making me say that-! ah, it's so deep-!" you moaned, fucking your hips on his moving ones. he chuckled, kissing your temple.

"i love you too, dear." he said, looking into your eyes and kissing you, and with all the love you denied him, you kissed him back. "i love you more than you'll ever know." he said again.

once again, his dick touched the one spot that pleasured you the most, making you came around his cock, crying while your eyes shone at the sight of his cock so deep into you that you immediatly melted away again, your pussy gushing and tightening around his cock while he throbbed, cumming inside you.

finally, you admited it. and he was more than happy to call you the future mrs. snow.

[onelittlespiral]

Tf where someone's huge musky cock keeps turning others into massive muscle bros on accident?

FML: Cursed

Up front, I’ll say this one’s a bit different. Let me know if you all like it. -❤️

Everything was too bright. My head was pounding. Memories were fading in and out from last night. Fuck, how much did I have to drink last night? I stumbled out of bed, trying to forced myself towards the bathroom to take a piss. I had made a New Year’s resolution to quit the bottle. Yeah, so much for that. I managed a quick piss and splashed some cold water on my face. That helped a bit. At this point all I wanted to do was bury my head back in my pillow. Slowly, I shuffled back towards my bed:

“Yeah? You coming back for more of this?”

A man. A man was in my bed. A hunk of a man was flexing in my bed. My mouth hung open for a moment as my brain chugged to life. I couldn’t quite believe it.

“…God damn it! Uggh, what did I let happen?”

“What, not in the mood? I can be quite,” he started a little pec dance, “persuasive.”

I was not in a mood to be amused by his flirting. “No, no it’s not you-or at least it is you now but-” I stammered, “Look. It’s complicated. Get up, please, I need you out of here. If you take some time to… cool off… it should pass.” I paused a moment, “I’m sorry.”

Quickly, I started pulling together what clothes I could find that would fit his new stature and tossed them at him. Even facing away from him I could tell he was a little taken aback. I’m sure in his current brain he couldn’t quite believe he was being rejected. But I knew it was better for everyone that he leave now. I scooped up his old clothing and threw it all into a tote. It wasn’t his fault he was here in this situation, getting kicked out of a stranger’s house early in the morning. Maybe that’s why I scribbled down my contact info and slipped it into the bag. He would have questions later, he deserved some answers. By now he had managed to put on the cut off tank and the shorts I had thrown him. The shorts were a size too small and left nothing to the imagination, but it would have to work. I doubted his canvas shoes would fit over those behemoths. He would have to go barefoot. After a few awkward pleasantries where he asked me if we should lift together some time and I politely declined, he finally got the message and slipped out the door. I locked it behind him and slumped to the floor. I still had a headache.

It was going to be a long day. At this point I was awake, so I just decided to hit the shower. The steam helped clear my mind so I could try to piece the night together. It had been two years now and it was still happening. I wish I knew how to stop it. But looking back, I’m not sure what else I could have done. Every time it happened though, every time I saw his face, I just replayed that day again in my mind:

We were sitting at our favorite cafe when I broke the news.

“What do you mean? You’re breaking up with me?” my ex boyfriend was stunned. Truly, I don’t think this had ever happened to him before.

“Please don’t act surprised. We both knew this was coming. We aren’t good for each other.”

“Baby, we aren’t good for each other,” he cooed, leaning over and cupping my jaw, “We’re great together. You can’t pretend to deny it. I can feel that cock twitch, hear every moan when you’re inside me. Come on, let’s go home and I’ll bring you to your knees.”

“No. This isn’t about us in bed. This is everything outside of it. I don’t like how you talk to me, how you treat me, how you touch me,” I said, slapping his hand from my face, “and how you treat everyone in the world as your plaything. I just can’t put up with it anymore.”

That finally set him off, “Oh, you have no idea what I can do.” He snapped his fingers.

I watched as a man in a suit next to us dropped his book. He began to convulse, and I watched in horror. He reverted from his fifties to his late twenties in a moment, smoothing his wrinkles as his hair turned from silver to brown. His skin tightened around his swelling body, as his muscles easily ripped through his shirt and pants. A deep moan escaped his mouth as his clothes reformed themselves into a tank top and gym shorts. As a snap-back hat formed and tightened around his head, I grimaced, knowing that his mind was being assaulted with a new identity. I knew the look on his face well as drool flowed from his open mouth. Then, all at once it stopped. He just picked up his book and kept reading. No one else even seemed to notice what had taken place.

It was a thinly veiled threat and we both knew it. “See? This is the shit I’m talking about. What happens to him now? He had nothing to do with this, you just can’t contain yourself.”

“Oh relax, he’s fine. I didn’t dumb him like I do to you. No one will ever remember anything different. Though I imagine whatever new hires at his firm will be confused why the new boss is a jacked gym bro while everyone else in the office is pushing 40 and wearing suits.” He chuckled at his own joke.

“I can’t! I can’t do this anymore. I don’t ever want to see you again.” I gathered my things to make my exit.

He came round the table, in a far less joking mood, “You’ll regret that,” he grabbed at my groin and cupped my package, “from now on, whenever that gets going, I have a feeling you will be seeing a lot of me” I felt a stirring in my sack. Something had… shifted?

“What did you do?” my shouting had finally drawn the attention of onlookers.

“Good luck, baby. You ever want that resolved, you’ll have to find me.” With that, he turned heel and left.

Now, two years later, he was right. I had seen far too much of him. The water had gone cold. I turned the faucets off and stepped out to dry myself off.

The first time had been a shock. I had given myself time to heal from the relationship, but about two months in I decided to head to a bar. Immediately something was off when I entered. I saw a few old flings, and a friend or two who were surprised to see me there. But it was like when I entered the whole place shifted towards me. Men were buying me drinks and fawning for my attention. The bartender even slipped a few comments in. They all looked smitten with me, trying to get just a little closer. By the end of the night I had some twink sitting in my lap. I decided it was time to blow off some steam. I took him to my place, where he immediately began tearing off my clothes inside the door. I managed to get him back to my bedroom before he had my boxers off. Immediately he buried his nose into my bush. Admittedly I hadn’t been keeping shaved since the breakup, and I guess that was doing it for him. He went to town on my cock. I wasn’t prepared for him to take it in one thrust, but he wasn’t waiting. All I could do was grab his hair and hold on as he worked my cock like a pro. I felt his hair curl beneath my fingers as I held on for the ride, moaning as he pushed all my buttons. He knew just when to pull back to keep me edging, his thick fingers holding on as he devoured my cock. Finally I knew I needed to fuck him. I pulled him off of my cock, but as he stood up and his dazed expression met mine I screamed.

“Fuck baby, where have you been all of my life?” he said.

He was the spitting image of my ex. The hair, the muscle, even that stupid nickname. In shock I pushed him away as he gave me a look of confusion.

“What are you doing here? I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

He looked back at me confused, “What are you talking about? We just met like a few hours ago. You invited me over. Sorry.”

Something about the statement rang true. I only realized later it was because he apologized. My ex would never. “Did he put you up to this? What’s your name?”

“Hey, I’m not sure who you’re talking about, okay? I’m Justin. I was just looking for a good time.”

“Have you seen yourself? You don’t look like the twink I met at the bar.” I retorted

He looked in the mirror, and his face seemed to puzzle for a sec. I knew that look. He was trying to reconcile memories he had. Fake memories. Then he smirked, “Yeah, pretty hot right? I’ve been working out, getting that more twunk look going.”

So he was clueless then. It was weird seeing someone look so much like him, and have a mix of his mannerisms and others. He had certainly made sure his cockiness was implemented. The asshole.

“Look, I’m not sure tonight is going to work out. I need you out of here. Now.” That was a little mean, it wasn’t his fault. But he had to go. I gave him some of my ex’s clothes he had left lying around and pushed him out the door without saying goodnight. It was only next week when I went to the bar that I saw him again. He had seemingly gone back to normal, besides a very distinctive mustache and stubble he was growing now. It didn’t fit his thin, hairless body and it made me chuckle…

*BZZZZZT*

My phone was getting a call from an unknown number. I guess it was time to answer some questions:

-Hey, I found this number in my bag. This the guy from last night?

*Sigh*

-Yeah, it’s me. Are you, uh, feeling better? More… yourself?

-So I’m not crazy! What was that? What happened?

-I am so so so sorry. It’s a long story. Let’s just say my ex is… a looot.

-Well hey, who’s isn’t?

I chuckled

-You’re taking this surprisingly well. Most guys don’t want to look at me after all this.

-So this has happened before?

-Yes. But I promise I didn’t mean to. I must have gotten too drunk last night, and I know that’s not a good excuse. But I’m not sure what to do about it and at this point I’d starting to think I never will

-Woah, woah. Calm down. Would you want someone to come over? To talk to?

I paused.

-No, I think I’ll be fine.

-Please, I want to. I want answers and it seems like you need someone.

-I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Plus, I don’t think I can see you like that.

-I promise. I don’t think I have anything the same.

-Promise?

-Here, look

He did look back to normal. And he was quite cute. I can see why drunk me decided to pick him…

-Still, I’m not sure…

-Nope, it’s decided. I know the address, I’ll be there later tonight around 6. *click*

What had just happened? I think, against all odds, I just got roped into a second date.

God damn it.

[itsthestutterforme]

“Glad You Called” (Jack Reacher x black!reader)

Summary: Two years ago, Reacher left your home with nothing but a note left behind. What does he expect your reaction to be when he shows up at your door, saying you were in danger?

Notes; GIF is not mine, mistakes are my own, friends to lovers trope

**

The faint pattering of the rain on the tin roof of your outdoor garage was the only thing you could hear from the house.

You stared down at the unsaved numbers flooding your most recent call list. Reacher had been on your mind lately.

Which was kind of out of the norm because you hadn’t seen him in years. And you didn’t exactly end on the best of terms either.

He ghosted you. You woke up one random morning and noticed he was gone. A simple note was left behind:

“You’re perfect. You deserve better. I’m sorry.”

I suppose it was better than nothing, but barely.

He was in the Atlanta area and needed some place to crash. You were the first person that came to mind. He knew you were in Atlanta but had no idea which part.

He would have been searching for hours until he happened to walk by the coffee shop you frequented.

You were eating a piece of bacon avocado toast when you felt eyes on you. You looked up to see the mountain of a man known as Reacher, and that was the start of a very slippery slope.

One night turned in six months. Neither of you crossed that boundary but it was very noticeable that there was something romantic between the two of you.

There was something about the way the looked at you that desperately made you wish that you were a telepath.

That man had libraries worth of words in that brain of his and yet he chose to remain quiet every time.

The best part about it was while he was selective with words, his presence spoke volumes whenever he walked into a room.

Little did you know that what was going through his mind when he would look at you was one thing: marriage.

And that scares the hell out of him. He never crossed the line because he knew he would never go back.

That would be the end of it. His time of being a wandered would be over and he would be forever tied to you.

The domestic life would have taken him over, and it would have been completely voluntary. Because he wants to be there, with you.

He would have lived out his life as a husband and as a father. And he knew he wasn’t going to be ready for that, so he left.

Over the course of the six months of you living together, you expected to see him when you got home. He would ask you how was your day was while he cooked dinner for you.

You’ve gotten used to that. You’ve gotten used to him. And then he was gone.

The letter was all you had left of him for two years. And now there is an unsaved number calling you every day for the past week like clock work.

Speaking of, your phone rings once again. It was the same unsaved number, but this timed you answered.

“Hello?” you heard a deep sigh through the phone.

“Reacher,” you added, your palms growing slick.

“Y/N,” he starts, it was almost as if he wasn’t expecting you to answer.

“What, cat got your tongue?” you said unamused.

“You’re in danger Y/N. When can you get to New York City?”

“What makes you think I want you to protect me?”

“Y/N, we don’t have time for this. They threw Franz out of a helicopter after torturing him for information. I need to know that you are safe.” he says all in one breath.

“Franz?” you repeated.

He remained silent for a moment.

“God. I was at his wedding last year,” you said in disbelief.

“How soon can you get to New York?” he repeats.

“I can protect myself, Reacher. Goodbye.”

“Then I’m coming to you,” he says before ending the call. You stared at your phone with your mouth open in disbelief.

You had a feeling that would be a face you would be making often.

**

You already knew who it was from the solid knock reverberating through your house. However, it is better to be safe than sorry.

You had to admit that you’ve been on edge ever since Reacher called you. You only went out for the essentials and even then, those trips were kept minimal.

Taking your Beretta from your table, you check the chamber and clicked off the safety as you made your way towards the door. Opening the door, you had the barrel of the gun pressed against it.

Much to your surprise, it was not just Reacher at your front door. O’Donnel, Neagley and Dixon were standing behind him.

“I was hoping you weren’t serious,” you start.

“When have you ever known me to joke?”he retorts.

“There was a time that I knew you to have integrity. Obviously that has changed.” you said, clicking the safety back on.

You walked back inside and tucked your gun under your waist band. Reacher took that as an invitation to enter and the rest of the group followed.

Reacher couldn’t help but look around the familiar house. You still liked to keep the house smelling of citrus with a dash of honey.

He loved the smell. It reminded him of Christmas. Reminded him of home. He almost ran into you when you stopped to turn around.

Your glossed over eyes met his and while your gaze remained on his face, his explored every detail.

Your voluminous, curly hair just barely touched your shoulders. Your favorite crop top and sweatpants outfit you wore more often than not. Your fuzzy Crocs that he initially hated but he grew to love.

He grew to love you.

O’Donnel and Neagley shared a look at how cold you were being towards Reacher.

Of course they didn’t know about what happened between you before. So as far as they were concerned, it was unwarranted.

“You guys didn’t need to come all the way over here. Like I told Reacher, I can handle myself.” You explained, breaking the silence.

“I’m sure Franz thought the same thing,” Neagley starts.

“We’re not losing anyone else. And I know I’m not your favorite person right now, but you’re just going to suck it up for the time being.” Reacher stampedes.

“If you somehow think you can just burst into my home and my life, and stick your chest out while you give orders. You’re insane. But if you really expect me to listen, you can fuck off.” You snark, crossing your game and narrowing your eyes at him.

“Okay, obviously we missed a few chapters.” O’Donnel voiced.

The group looked between you and Reacher for a moment until Dixon spoke up, “Whatever bad blood you two have, set it aside. I can guarantee you, it’s not worth your lives.”

“Yeah, we started coming up with a plan of action but it didn’t really get anywhere because Reacher was adamant about getting in touch with you. So now that we’re all together where can we start?” O’Donell facilitates.

“What do we have so far?” you questioned, giving Reacher one last pointed look before sitting down.

**

Should I make a part 2? 🤔

[threepandas]

Bad End: Into The Light

It was impossible to ignore the steps behind me.

I was told, again and again, they were of no consequence. No SIGNIFICANCE. That my "shadows" were little more then passive servants. Glorified furniture that followed me room to room. But... but how could I possibly believe that? Worse, if I DID believe that? What would that MAKE me?

I was followed, as I am always followed these days, by... by DECORATION.

That's what they were BRED for. MADE to be. Aesthetically pleasing decoration. Perfectly matching, pleasantly smiling, mindless drones.

It sickened me.

When I "woke up"? Laughable as that phrasing is? Because I was not... not SLEEPING. I was... WAS... I had not BEEN-!

When I... "woke up" as it were, from that... long sleep. The one I had no choice in. That terrifies me even now. Haunts my dreams and wounds my soul. I found myself in a shining temple. A holy place, I was told. A beautiful place, it seemed.

And like so many stories? Like every tale of Utopia supposedly found? It was only after the first rush of wonder, did the cracks in the foundation begin to appear. And oh... OH, did they run DEEP.

I? Was "born" from a shining pool. Beneath sunlight and surrounded by soft breezes. Beauty and nature. But the "shadows"? They take the waters and manipulate them. Archaic machines I have never seen, someplace deep and dark.

I only see the successes of this process.

My mind screams that something terrible must happen, to those deemed "failures".

How? How in any God's name could I EVER be expected to accept this? This slavery and butchery? Worse still, be expect to TAKE PART in it? Have "shadows" of my own? As though it were not ownership of another living soul?!

In disgust, I raged.

I tried to fight. Was still too young, unfamiliar with the terrain. But my soul cried out in horror and how could I refuse? It... got me isolated. I am STILL isolated. Deep in the temple. Back in the "reflection gardens" where I may "think". It goes against our religion, after all, to harm me.

I am a PERSON. One of the Light's children. I need "gentle guidance" and "patience" so that I might "understand".

I understand perfectly.

They are simply monster's in my eyes.

It is cruel, really, that so much GOOD could be poisoned by such thoughtless evil. Because some of the teaching they foist on me? Are GOOD. Genuinely, truely, GOOD. They are teachings I am trying my best to follow. Even as something about them... niggled at the back of my brain. Like somehow they SHOULD be familiar, yet aren't quite.

Truely? I wish I could escape these walls. I KNOW there are other sects. The Shining Light was a result of a schism several centuries back. I know it had to do with the pools. But, of course, they have kept me from anything that might reinforce my "mistaken beliefs".

The eyes burning into my back trace lazily along my skin.

We never talk. I REFUSE to take part in this charade, but it does not stop them from following me. If anything, they seem amused. Something almost like fond on occasion. It is hard to tell, through their ever unchanging smiles. Perfectly bland and decorative.

There is a strange... anticipation in the air today.

I do not know what to make of it. When I ask the Light all I receive is nondescript humming. I do not know enough to know what that MEANS. Have no one to ask. So... I go through the motions.

And the anticipation builds.

And builds.

And BUILDS.

There are certain points in the, for lack of a better term (though honestly it's hardly), "little" building I've been cosigned too where I can see the main temple. The second floor terrace lifts me JUST high enough to see the eastern sprawl.

And the if I precariously balance? Up on a stool and then my toes. Leaning juuust so against one of the pillars that line the path? Then the hallway to the reflection pool garden, where I am too meditate each day, shows me the west.

As cut off as I am, except for the glorified propaganda shoved at me again and again by teachers who never linger, as though I am DISEASED? Well, all I can really do is watch. Try to pick out what is happening from afar. Try... try not to go mad from isolation.

Because the only people HERE with me are my shadows.

And I KNOW they would never talk to me. Not really. They will respond if I talk AT them but... oh Light that guides us... I am the keeper of their chains. I have NO RIGHT to play "happy little family~" as though they are even remotely close to me of their own free will.

I will not see them. I will not ask of them. In the Light, I will cast no shadow.

My mantra. Again and again. And please, oh Light that guides us, let someday it be true.

Still... my daily "lessons" have not come. And that? That has never happened. I do not WORRY for them, but as the only contact I have with the outside? Sudden change in behavior is... bad. Especially with this strange tension in the air. This anticipation of... SOMETHING. Like the Light is waiting for something to begin.

It is coming.

The east shows me nothing. So I try the west. Balanced precariously, ankles and toes straining from the uncomfortable position. The vast gardens between where I am and the main buildings? Are... empty.

They are NEVER empty.

Always. ALWAYS! Someone strolling, initiates debating, students reflecting, Master's meditating on the Light. Guests oohing and aaahing over the heavenly splendor of a garden unrivaled, by any I'd EVER seen before this place. All while followed by peacock tails of shadows. Matching and subservient. Hundreds of them.

The gardens were empty. Silent. An eery sense of... wrong, began to seep up my spine. Something that SCREAMED I had all the clues. Already KNEW what this was. But was being painful dense. Fatally blind. But I... I couldn't...

Sharp movement. A Temple Master. One who's name I could not recall. Only that he was forever poised and disdainful. He did not look so poised NOW. He raced, hair falling from it's styling, face wet with sweat and tears, robes a mess, across the main walk. Through the empty garden.

He... he never made it...

Too wherever he hoped to go.

In perfect synch, like WOLVES, shadows shot from the building behind him in pursuit. They had swords. He did not. Their long legs ate the distance between them and their prey almost effortlessly. In desperation, he called upon the Light, divine magic to defend himself.

They... they COUNTERED.

He died. Horrified and screaming, as I stood frozen. Pieces clicking together in my head. That... that was an advanced skill. But, ultimately, perfectly learnable if you were focused on nothing else. If... if you were able to FOLLOW those who sat in such lessons. Were... born of the same pools.

Of course they were children of the Light. I had always known. But somehow... my brain had not CONNECTED what that meant. Fully. What SKILLS that would afford them.

Slowly, numbly, I slid back down to merely stand upon the stool upon which I stood. I shakily stepped down. Acutely aware of the half ring of shadows smiling, oh so pleasantly, less then lunging distance away. Their eyes were intent.

Had...had they been waiting for me to see? Figure it out on my own? How long were they willing to let the charade continue? Just to drive home that their days of servitude were, at last, violently over? I did not look at them. I was afraid. My eyes staring, unseeing, off to the garden walls.

I was... was trapped in here... wasn't I?

Deserved this. For what I had allowed done.

And yet... and YET... I... I wanted to live. I was a prisoner too. Born into a cage that would see me die in it. Tears blurred my vision. It felt hard to breathe. Slowly, painfully fighting my tensed muscles, like a doll creaking from age, I turned to look at them.

Their smiles were sharper. They had teeth now.

Heads cocked, some terrible and delighted thing dancing in their eyes, their masks had cracked apart. No longer needed. I took a shaking step back. Then another. All the while they watch, eyes tracing my every action, unmoving. Expectant. They knew I would run. Clearly HOPED I would. I wish I could say I disappointed them.

That I was brave and stood my ground. Facing my end with dignity.

I didn't.

I bolted.

Behind me, a chorus of delighted laughs rip through the terrible silence like the baying of hunting hounds. The howl of wolves. Their masculine voices echoing all around me as, for the first time in this LIFE? I run with all I have. There... there is no where to GO. Not really. I have been kept ignorant of most of the temple's layout. Everything beyond it.

I have to try.

Mocking. They give me a heads start. But I hear them now. They have always been near silent when they walk. Can be COMPLETELY silent if they choose. It was a courtesy. Now? It is a taunt. So I know they are coming. Know how close I am to-...!

Desperately, I shed outer layers. The ornate, heavy robes they made me wear? Were lovely. But difficult to move it. Perhaps that was the point. Now? I can not afford it. They clatter and flomp to the ground behind me as I run. Skid around corners. Take two stairs at a time.

Banter behind me. This is taking everything I've got. Ha ha... oh Light! It's barely a work out for them, isn't it? A glorified jog at best. My exits are cut off, again and again. Forcing me to backtrack. My heart pounding, lungs screaming. Nails scrambling at the polished floors as my feet slide out from under me at the sudden shift in direction.

Bruises are building up. Exhaustion setting in. There is... there is no where in this building I can hide, that they do not KNOW.

I've lost track of at least half of them. They could be anywhere. I... I know, KNOW, I am being herded like an animal. Spooked and grabbed at, so I run the way they want me too. I just don't know WHY. I can't think. I have to run. All... all I can do is RU-!

As I pass an archway leading to a garden viewing room, I find out where the others went. Weight SLAMS into me from the side. Strong arms seizing my waist and cradling my neck, to prevent injury as we fall. I am thrown from feet by the tackle, through the archway.

Into a...nest of bedding?

I land hard, cushioning aside, and wheeze out a whine. The wall of iron muscle on top of me, pressing me down, half crushing me. My legs are on fire, my lungs the same. Everything hurts and I am terrified. There is a man's hand on the back of my neck, up high and near cradling my head, and it would take NOTHING for him to snap it. I... I can't... I...

I sob.

Frozen. Exhausted, in pain, and all struggled out. All I can do is cry. It's going it hurt. I.. I don't WANT to get hurt! P-please don't hurt m-me! I clutch at the bedding I'm pinned down too. My face all but crushed up against a familiar not familiar shoulder. I can hear the others strolling closer.

The shift of clothes as they kneel to crawl onto the strange nest they had made.

"Shhhhhh, shh shh shh. It's okay, sweetheart. It's over now. We CAUGHT you~ Our little champion. You're okay. It's okay. We're all here. You're safe now." Whispers the shadow pinning me. All but crooning it in my ear. "We've got you~, we've got you~. They can't hurt you anymore. Gonna show you the WORLD. No more cages. Can finally give you the love you DESERVE."

There are noises of agreement around me. Hands gently stroking my wrist and lower arm. Massaging my aching lower legs almost absent-mindedly. As though any part of me not covered by the man pinning me was fair game. Someplace to gently adore. I don't understand. Can not.

I squirm. Getting huffed laughs and chuckles.

"None of that, dearest. We were patient long enough. Frankly, we wanted to stage the revolt months ago. But, well, that pesky high priest. Never around when you need him to die, mmm?" Barks of laughter as the others crowded closer, got comfortable. My hand was tugged loose from the bedding. Fingers intertwined with my own.

"She's so cute." "Let us love you." "I can't wait to taste you." "Ours now, sweetheart~" "let us take care of you, okay?" "Light that guides, you're so fucking PERFECT..." "We're gonna take care of you, promise."

Muttered voices. Possessive, gentle hands. The shadow on top of me shifts down. And suddenly I could SEE. They stared like I was something to be devoured. The center of the universe. The Light felt triumphant. Held no answers. I didn't know where to look. Too many eyes. Too much touch.

Too much EVERYTHING after so long alone.

A kiss that feels overwhelming. Grins that promised things I didn't know if I can handle. Eyes that promise FOREVER whether I like it or not. Dangerous, dangerous hands that are so very gentle. I shake. I can not stop shaking. Hands from two different men, cup my cheeks, stroke my skin. My hands are held. Their palms are warm.

"Shhhh, your OURS now, little light. We broke our chains and killed our keepers, but YOU? Oh you, little prisoner, tried your best. You couldn't do it, and that's okay, but we SAW. We REMEMBERED. And the shadows?" They whisper, almost reverent. Both precious memory and quiet confession carried in their voice. Then, a terrible, possessive smile. A thing of entirely too many teeth.

"Oh little light, the shadows love you~♡"