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lotties-ashwagandha · 3 days ago

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IT FOLLOWS

lottie matthews x fem!reader x natalie scatorccio (adult timeline)

although you’re looking for a fresh start, you reconnect with your favorite married couple at the wellness center (plane crash reader). 2.6k words. NSFW at the end. im taking it back to season two rn oopsie poopsie I miss the cult!

“Don’t,” Lottie throws open the kitchen window. “Not inside.”

Natalie makes no move to put out the cigarette. She takes a drag, savoring the bitter smoke. It’s an old habit, one she has failed to drop, though cigarette supply is meager here.

Lottie pulls the cigarette from her hands. She moves to put it out — yet after a moment she pauses, leans back against the kitchen counter, and takes a drag herself.

“What?” Nat tilts her head. “Ashwagandha can’t fix this, too?”

Lottie doesn’t respond. She turns her gaze out the window to the wellness center beyond, to the cabin that you’ve been set up in.

“You didn’t kidnap her,” Nat tries again for a reaction. “You have that going for you.”

The cigarette burns between Lottie’s fingers. Her gaze is still fixed on the cabin.

Nat sighs, stepping forward and taking the cigarette back. She puts it out on an ashtray Lottie has told her an excruciating amount of times is unsanitary to keep in the kitchen, takes Lottie’s hands in her own and at last finds solace when Lottie’s eyes meet hers. She runs her thumbs over the rings adorning the woman’s hands. The newest addition: a band on Lottie’s ring finger with a small diamond, courtesy of Natalie herself.

“Go talk to her,” Natalie urges.

“Talk to her?” Lottie echoes. “And say what?”

Natalie shrugs. “It’s been years. Ask her where she’s been, what she’s done.” Natalie smiles, “explain the benefits of maca root.”

“I never knew you were so socially adept,” Lottie snaps. “Why don’t you go talk to her?”

“Am I looking out the window woefully?”

You’re given a start by a knock at your cabin door. You stand over the bags you brought in the small bedroom, now deprived of any clothing that’s not heliotrope, organizing your belongings in the bare space.

Another knock at the door — you abandon the mess, preparing yourself for another neighbor coming to welcome you.

Lottie looms over you in the doorway. She bears a look of unsureness, uncharacteristic of her usually tranquil manner, and it only seems to grow when you welcome her inside.

Lottie scans the cabin — everything is in place, untouched, yet it holds a different air now that you occupy it. It smells of your perfume, and the curtains have been opened to let in the sharp afternoon light.

You sit down at the small dining table by a window, but Lottie stays standing. She looks you over. The years have changed you, sharpened your features with age and put new wisdom in the way you watch her. She wants to know where it comes from.

“We haven’t gotten a chance to catch up yet,” she starts. She feels the silence heavily between you, years lost and alienating. “I haven’t seen you since…”

Since we were rescued.

“How have you been?” Lottie asks, a more casual way of saying: What have you done with your life?

“I started my own business,” you try. It’s anything to sound extraordinary, as if your grand enterprise wasn’t a shitty coffee shop that had barely scraped by until you closed it a few years ago and moved on. “I’ve been working, trying to move past what happened, like the rest.”

“Is that why you’re here? Are you still trying to move past it?”

You can’t answer. You don’t have a good reason yet for why you’re here, why you have come back to a remote location at the edge of the wilderness in an attempt to escape from it. You can’t tell her either that you never realized she owned the wellness center, and that the whole reason you came here was to evade the rest of your life in the closest portal to isolation.

“It will never leave us,” Lottie says. You try not to hear the reverence in her voice. “As long as you run, it will follow.”

The cabin door opens again, and someone else joins you.

“Natalie,” you stand. You don’t know how to speak to her, either of them, or how to comprehend how small you feel in contrast — you remember the harsh winter they led the rest of you through. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“This doesn’t seem to you like a place I would naturally be swayed to?” Natalie asks playfully. “I don’t look like the smoothie-sipping type?”

You catch a flash of her wedding ring, and instinctively you scan Lottie’s hands as well — a matching ring, and if it weren’t enough for you to draw conclusions with, Natalie confirms your suspicions.

“Lottie roped me in,” she says. “Turned me into a hippie.”

“You’re still a long way from tree hugging,” Lottie retorts. The way she gravitates towards Nat is natural, domesticity reflexive when she takes Natalie’s hand. Something aches in you at the sight.

“How about you?” Nat asks you. “Why a wellness retreat?”

“I wanted a fresh start,” you say. Yet as you consider them, symbolic of every haunting remnant of your past, you know a fresh start won’t find you here.

Natalie has read your mind. “This hasn’t turned out to be the best place for a fresh start so far, has it?”

You look between them anxiously.

“If you give up on that,” she continues, “on wanting a fresh start, then come by sometime. I’ve figured out a system of smuggling liquor in here.”

“Look at me,” Natalie orders. As they lay together Nat holds herself up on an elbow, looking down at Lottie. “What are you thinking about?”

Lottie reaches up, a hand trailing over Nat’s features, pushing a strand of short brown hair behind her ear.

“For someone who runs self-reflection, peace and love, express-yourself-openly programs, you’re not much of a communicator,” Natalie murmurs.

Lottie smiles softly, brows furrowing. “What does that mean?”

“You’re thinking about her again.”

“You have been thinking about her, too,” Lottie says, tone newly defensive.

“I have,” she agrees. Before she can speak again, Lottie weaves a hand into her hair and pulls her down to kiss her. Nat shifts, straddling her waist, breaking away from the kiss to nip at her jaw and neck.

“She hasn’t mentioned anyone,” Lottie says, gasping when Nat bites down particularly hard on a previous and fading mark on her chest from the other night. “A wife, a husband…”

Natalie hums in response, moving back up to kiss her. Her hands trail along the other woman’s body, casual as they map their way down, almost domestic. Comfortable — yet she still feels her own heartbeat pick up in the way Lottie’s breath hitches at her touch.

You take Natalie up on her offer of ‘smuggled’ alcohol a few nights later. You last through one group meditation at the wellness center before you’re meeting her in the cabin at sunset with a bottle between you. It’s not your proudest moment, the best coping mechanism — but after attempting Lottie’s for an hour, Natalie’s is worth a try.

“Group meditation isn’t your thing?” Natalie asks. “You don’t like to… what does she make you do? Count sheep?”

“How are you evading the meetings?” You ask, taking a sip of your drink. “You’re married. I would think Lottie would have you signed up for everything.”

“Marriage condition,” Nat smiles. “I get to make fun of her wellness center. She gets to shame me for smoking and drinking.”

It’s that rhythm you find yourself drawn into — meditations with Lottie, drinks with Natalie, finding space with them together in between. Over the weeks you grow closer to them, a fate you rue and one you feel inexplicably whole in. Your desire for a fresh start has been nearly abandoned under their attention.

You suspect it is far from one-sided, however. Lingering touches catch your breath. The way they always seem to hover over you, studying you, drinking in your presence as something new to indulge in.

It comes to a head after you join them for dinner one night, a few weeks into staying at the wellness center. Drinks are passed around as you sit at the dining room table, an expensive wine Lottie opened in a celebration of your time here.

“After the first couple of weeks, most people find an excuse to leave,” Lottie explains. “They’re scared of what they will find in themselves if they stay. You persist.”

“Like you always used to,” Natalie says, a soft smile gracing her lips.

You take a sip of your wine as you try to formulate a response — you don’t want to talk about the past, but it chases you. It is represented in the two women in front of you, whom you feel closer to now than ever and have found a home with again. It comes natural to you to share your life with them — it did in the wilderness, and it does now.

“It brought you here,” Lottie says suddenly.

You shake your head. “I don’t believe in it.”

“You don’t have to.”

Even if you were brought here by divinity, you are blind to it. Maybe that is why you are here: to find it again, to feel it in the love they gaze upon you with, to reconnect with what you have been running from, to see it in the eyes of the two who led you through the wilderness and know that to some extent it has chosen you, too.

“It’s all bullshit, right?” Natalie smiles, standing and coming over to lean against the table next to you, between you and where Lottie sits at the head of it. “Who believes in divine guidance?”

“That’s not fair. Divine guidance is different from the wilderness. In any case, you don’t believe in any of it.”

She shrugs. There’s too little skepticism in her face to really convince you of your own claim. She sighs, looking between you and her wife wordlessly.

Lottie stands, and so do you. You are not entirely sure what’s happening, but you want to be on your feet for it.

“What do you believe in?” Lottie asks. She stands too close, watches you too profoundly, reads you in a way so intimate — your thoughts are laid bare and betrayed by your own eagerness for the unnameable thing that grows between the three of you. She already knows.

You kiss her. Gently but with desperation until a wave of panic rushes through you at the possibility of her disapproval and you pull back — but then her hand loops to the back of your neck and demands you back to her. Hunger burns in her touch, less restrained than yours, pulling you against her and doing all she can to persuade you to stay.

“Infidelity!” Natalie exclaims. You pull away and look beside you. She still leans back against the table. She catches your gaze and raises her eyebrows. “You just kissed my wife.”

“No,” you panic, “I didn’t mean—”

“I should divorce you right now, Lottie.”

“Fuck, Nat,” Lottie steps back. “Stop it, you’re making her nervous.”

Natalie comes toward you, and without a second thought she kisses you, hands planting at your hips. In the force of it you falter back a step but she follows, guiding you into a state of mindlessness as her lips claim yours.

“Infidelity,” Lottie’s claim breaks up the kiss and distracts Natalie just long enough for her to pull you back to her. She is less gentle than last time, only breaking to guide you into their shared bedroom.

You’re so blinded by them that you’re not sure who pulls off your shirt or unclasps your bra or who pushes you down onto the bed, but it doesn’t matter — your only concern is them, that tonight you make up for a lifetime of feeling so distant from their love, and that finally it washes over you.

Natalie nearly shoves Lottie off of you to take her place straddling you, hands roaming your body as she kisses and bites down your chest, sucking one of your nipples into her mouth and eliciting a soft gasp from you.

When you glance at Lottie beside you, her expression is displeased — she is used to being the one to guide and demand, and to be shoved to the side in Nat’s pursuit of you has stirred something in her. Yet your attention is pulled away from her by the way Natalie moves down further, kissing down your abdomen in a hurried but still reverent manner that has a new boost of adrenaline coursing through you. You don’t notice Lottie get up from bed as Natalie reaches your thighs, sucking and biting marks into them as she tries to hold you still beneath her.

“Hold still,” she threatens, “or I’ll stop.”

“Good,” Lottie says from somewhere across the room. “Stop and let me have her.”

Natalie bites down hard on your inner thigh before her restraint is broken and she can’t resist the craving to taste you, tongue running through your folds before focusing on your clit. Her tongue against you pulls a sharp moan from you, and you try your best to keep from squirming, but every moment you spend beneath her lets your euphoria grow. She works a finger into you, and then another, working you with her hunger.

You register Lottie coming up onto the bed beside you again. Instinctively you reach for her, but instead of joining you she shifts over to Nat, and that’s when you notice the harness around her waist and what has been strapped to it, bigger than you can usually handle.

Lottie runs a hand down Nat’s back, giving her pause, and you release an impatient sigh. Lottie meets your eyes, pulls Natalie up by the hair until she’s sitting up on her knees, and kisses her. She moans into it, tasting you on her wife’s lips, until in a not-so-subtle motion she pushes Natalie aside in the same way Nat had done to her.

Lottie comes up to kiss you, bathed in new serenity now that she has you to herself. “You’re ours, now,” she murmurs, before repositioning to line up to you with the strap-on. Her hands run over you softly now that she has what she’s wanted, pushing into you gently and savoring the moans you bless her with.

When morning comes, you find yourself tangled in the two of them. No one took care to shut the curtains before you went to bed, leaving the sunrise visible when you sit up from between them and look over Natalie’s shoulder. Deep crimson shades burn onto the horizon as the sun claims a new day, and as you watch its ascent an overwhelming sense of peace takes hold of you.

You unwind yourself from the two of them. Carefully you slide out your legs, and though it’s hard to find a way out of bed with them on either side of you, you manage to slip away into the hall without waking them. You tell yourself they won’t mind you using their coffee pot to brew you a cup or ten, and once you’ve borrowed a mug you find your way out to the back porch.

The porch faces the woods, quiet in the morning apart from the birds calling through the trees. You were right in coming here, you suspect — these woods are nothing like what you knew before. These trees are peaceful, they do not scream.

After a while you hear kitchenware clinking from inside. A minute later the glass patio door slides open and Lottie joins you with her own cup of coffee. In the face of your exhaustion she looks rejuvenated, at peace as she takes a seat in the wicker patio chair beside yours.

She takes a sip of her coffee before turning to meet your gaze. “Are you still searching for it?”

You tilt your head in question.

“Your fresh start.”

You smile. You sigh, and though your resolve has been broken a thousand ways, you shake your head. “No… Not anymore.”

HI thank you for reading :) im so happy yellowjackets is back to post for wtf???

and now my favs ever the yellowjackets taglist: @webism @chaithetics @ahauandthesun whenever I add a taglist to smut I feel like im standing naked in someone’s house but we persevere.

that’s all that’s all comments and reblogs are always appreciated and pls send any yellowjackets thoughts in my inbox it has awakened my autism once more!

#yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #lottienat #lottienat x reader #yellowjackets

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witchynyx · 2 days ago

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Bad Witchy Authors: Shawn Robbins & Leanna Greenaway

Ok, so I see a lot of posts discussing bad witchy authors and I have never seen these two mentioned, which, just... boggles the mind.

So I guess I'm sharing some of my notes!

Their books are super-popular, but Ima reference some of my 24 pages of notes on Wiccapedia (2011)

This book is gorgeous, suuuper-accessible (almost any bookstore or library with any witchy books has this book), and it's the first book a lot of witch-curious folks pick up.

I don't have the brain-power to organise thoughts into topics, so I'm just gonna drop some of my 'favourite' quotes in the order they appear, for folks to make their own judgements...

Preface: Using Practical Magick . . . in Everyday Life

“Although there are modern Wiccans who still worship the traditional gods and goddesses, many witches... prefer a newer branch of witchcraft based on angel energy, known as Angelic Wicca”

“From the fourteenth to the eighteenth centuries, for complex reasons that scholars are still studying, waves of paranoia, hysteria, and suspicion set off witch hunts throughout the Western world, where those accused of witchcraft and trafficking with the devil were tried in both ecclesiastical and secular courts”

“Lesser mortals, and some religious faiths, blame an evil entity such as the devil for the negativity that mankind creates.... ”

“.. the foundation of our faith is much the same as it was hundreds of years ago”

Introduction: A Witch’s Tool Kit

The Pentacle:

“In pagan times the symbol was often worn as an amulet for spiritual protection and to ensure a safe, happy homecoming”

“..because most witches want to practice purely white magick and not associate themselves with anything negative”

“The sweep, or brush [of a besom], corresponds to the female genitalia, and the staff is associated with the male phallus— therefore it is a symbol of the male and the female combined”

Chapter 1: Witches Never Die, They Just Get Recycled

“We are all reincarnating at different rates. This is why some people are truly wonderful and some are, well, not”

“When you meet lovely, kind, and caring people, it is probable that they have reincarnated many times. Their endless incarnations have raised their spirits’ vibration, so they automatically show patience and strive to do everything right in their lives. People who are mean, selfish, and egotistic probably haven’t reincarnated as much. That isn’t to say that these people are wicked; they simply haven’t learned all their lessons yet. Think of them as bratty adolescents and the sympathetic ones as the grandparents of the reincarnation process—regardless of their age!”

Dealing with the Dark Side: [Paraphrased]: “Sometimes people are repeatedly evil and abusive, so they’re reincarnated as victims of these things to learn their lesson”

“You find many battered wives opening shelters for those who are going through violent relationships....”

“Guides, or “white lighters,” as they are often called today”

Chapter 2: Angels

“These beautiful beings have always had their place in the craft, but they used to play a secondary role to the more traditional Wiccan gods and goddesses... Today, you won’t find many British witches connecting with the gods and goddesses”

Chapter 4: Magickal Moon

“The moon was worshipped in many early religions as a goddess, and it has always been seen as a feminine symbol”

The Dark Moon:

“Sadly, many people who practice black magick do so at this time”

“You might think that someone working on the darker side of the occult could not influence any spells or rituals that you might be performing, but the collective power mustered by these individuals can cause cosmic havoc: our spells may become confused or simply not work at all. It is a shame, because the brilliance and power of this phase really is incredible, and without the negative manipulation I am sure we witches could do a great deal of good in it.”

Chapter 5: Spells and Candle Magick

Mostly this was a mix of ok info, and subjective info presented as objective fact, but that latter part is the theme of the book.

Chapter 6: Cell Phone Sorcery and Microwave Magick

“I can’t take all the credit for this new way of [cell phone] spell-making. My trusted friend and coauthor, Shawn, helped me”

“I’ll let you in on another little secret: we witches don’t really bother with our cauldrons much these days. We have evolved with the times and we use our microwaves and convection ovens... Any spell that entails mixing or brewing concoctions can easily be done in a microwave. It takes less time and the end results are actually enhanced, mainly because of the powerful electrical energies that the microwave transmits”

Chapter 8: Crystal

“You should wash your crystals once a week or so. Crystals can absorb energies around them, so just as we need to wash to stay clean, you need to wash your crystals. You can put them in the bath with you (to be cleansed of external energies and infused with yours) or simply soak them in a bowl of water” (Nb: A lot of crystals are damaged (or even super-unsafe) in water, which, obviously, is not mentioned at any point)

“If you are feeling on edge, go outside on a dry day with a cup of table salt to a place where you will not be disturbed. Scatter the salt in a large circle around you and place the rose quartz in the center” (Nb: DO NOT put salt on the ground outside!)

Chapter 9: A Witch's Menagerie

This is mostly a bunch of super-subjective collection of things that "witches (objectively/universally) do/believe" that I've mostly never heard of - obviously there are a lot of things I've never heard of, but in a decade, you'd think if every single witch believes/does something, I'd have stumbled across it at some point?

“Okay, so maybe you are not as animal-mad as I am, but a true witch will endeavor to have at least one critter as a companion in their lifetime”

"I may love all animals, and these insects may look very similar to bees, but I have to admit that hornets and wasps are annoying pests”

Chapter 10: Love Wisdom

“For modern witches, effigies have always been considered to be a little primitive, a little on the dark side”

“Every relationship that we enter into is spiritually planned (even the bad ones). It’s decided before we reincarnate who we are meant to share part, or all, of our lives with. This is because every time we venture into a relationship, we learn something from it. If it wasn’t our fate to be with our partners, we would never have been at that particular place at that particular time when we had our first meeting. We wouldn’t have been attracted to them, for starters, so something must have happened to ignite that spark. No matter how difficult some relationships are, it was fate that brought you together”

Chapter 11: Handfastings

So aside from a bunch of vague and mostly fictional/confused history, apparently every wedding/handfasting is different, but that doesn't stop them from laying out every specific 'universal' detail, including the attire, the catering, the gifts, etc, etc, etc...

“In pagan times, rice throwing was believed to transfer the spirit of the fertile grain to the bride and groom, ensuring that they would have a prosperous harvest and a fertile union”

Chapter 13: Gaze into the Future

Just... full of the G-slur, fetishisation and demonisation of Romani stereotypes, make-up history, and 'people in the past were unevolved and unintelligent and luckily we're now so much better in every way' (also a repeated theme)

[Psychic skills and divination aren't my area, so I skipped the rest of the chapters on those topics]

19 Dos and Don’ts about Witchcraft

“These words the Wiccan Rede fulfill: “An ye harm none, do what ye will.” —from “The Wiccan Rede,” anonymous” (ie 'We're Wicca experts but either don't know Doreen Valiente wrote this, or don't want to credit her')

“Most religions follow rules and guidelines, and although Wicca is considered to be a relaxed faith, we also have strict laws that we follow to the letter”

“Just because we can make magickal things appear out of thin air, it doesn’t mean that it’s always the right thing to do”

“There are people the world over who perform black magick because they have been treated badly or are seeking revenge for a wrong. Some are warped with jealousy and wish a bad fate on those more fortunate than themselves, and although it does sound bizarre that in the twenty-first century people are still putting curses on others, it’s really not that uncommon”

“On the other hand, people who use these skills to do harm are just self-interested souls who use magick as a way of gaining control and power over others, using it purely for their own gratification”

“The craft is all about sending out positive intentions”

“On the other hand, your spells could be failing because you are tired or sick. Your aura has to be in tip-top condition if your spell is to succeed” (Sorry, if you're chronically-ill you can't do magic)

The Ten Commandments of Witchcraft:

ALWAYS ENSURE THAT NO OTHER PERSON WILL BE HARMED AS A RESULT OF YOUR MAGICK. To call yourself a witch means that you will always endeavor to do the right thing and send out only love and kindness to others.

KEEP YOUR THOUGHTS FREE OF NEGATIVITY— REMEMBER THE REBOUND EFFECT. Keep in mind that every thought you send out can just as easily bounce off the receiver and be hurled back at you at the speed of light. You created the negative fog, so it belongs to you!

NEVER CAST A SPELL WHEN YOU ARE UPSET OR UNHEALTHY. Funny as it may seem, our thought projections can go haywire if we are cross, unhappy, or sick. Spells may fail to work, or the results may be confusing. Therefore it’s imperative that we be in the right frame of mind and physically healthy before we begin any magick

THINK POSITIVELY. If you smile, then you are more likely to be happy. Every time a miserable thought pops into your head, shake it away and try to think about something nice. Your aura is a magnetic energy field, and if it’s drab or gloomy, you will attract disruptive and depressing situations

CREATE A PEACEFUL, CALM ENVIRONMENT FOR YOUR SPELL CASTING

CALL UPON YOUR ANGELS TO ASSIST YOU

RESPECT EVERYTHING... try as hard as you can to eat all the right foods... Eat badly and you'll feel bad.

WISH FOR MONEY BUT BE CAREFUL OF GREED. If you need to cast spells for material gain…

NEVER INFLUENCE A PERSON’S MIND WITH MAGICK... You could indirectly take that person off the path they are destined to travel and deprive them of lessons they need to learn.... If you’ve reeled them back in, you have interfered with their karma, and you could get your karmic wrist slapped when you eventually pass over into spirit

BELIEVE IN YOURSELF. No amount of magick will work unless you have faith in yourself

Chapter 20: Destiny Is Calling You

“Make a talisman, which is a stronger protector than an amulet”

“Smudge your space and your aura every now and then”

I made a 'Bad Witch Book Bingo', and was genuinely surprised this book only got bingo 3 times 😅

#bad books #bad authors #original content #witchynyx

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benniefranky · 2 days ago

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for everyone asking about the subliminal, i’m gonna link it here. but, just because it worked once 3 or 4 years ago doesn’t mean it will magically work for you. i give you that heads up because this only worked once for me. i haven’t used subliminals in years, and i still have been able to shift consistently. today, i use music or podcasts to help me shift, or media around the reality i want to go to. but feel free to give it a listen! ༝༚༝༚

youtube

THE FIRST TIME I SHIFTED AWAKE…

was horrifying. I was feeling hopeless, it was around 6 in the morning and i still had a few hours before i needed to make my way to work.

HALF ASLEEP, i thought it would be a good idea to test a subliminal i saw the night before. at this point in my journey i was actively trying different subliminals for shifting and rating them online based on if i shifted or not.

the subliminal was only 1 minute and 40 something seconds long. 6 am Nicky thought “why not?”

“Why not”? because for me personally nothing had been working those past 2 weeks. i was struggling and felt like i lost my groove of falling asleep and waking up somewhere else.

5 months into my success journey i was only shifting using asleep methods, i never thought you could actually shift awake. i assumed that it was easier for me to shift when i was knocked out.

so i closed my eyes and thought “what was the worst that could happen?” and just waited through it. listening to the subliminal, i zoned out, and within seconds my body ascended.

i started to panic. i wasn’t in my bed anymore. i was in a different bed, a familiar one.

everything was fuzzy for a few seconds, i felt my soul leave my body, my position in my bed change, and heard the grandfather clock in my bedroom go off. It was my heart bed, the bed Jonathan and I unofficially shared before our wedding that was completely against my father’s wishes. I was alone, which was good for my anxiety but different than every other morning.

as i opened my eyes and adjusted, i realized something was off. it was my room, but Jonathan was nowhere to be found. i was under a tower of blankets, with his side of the bed being left untouched. i took it as a sign that he was here.

with the thought lingering a second longer i remembered he came in around 2 in the morning. but he was gone now.

i got up, the shock of shifting now completely gone and was immediately replaced with “where’s my fiance?”

just as i went to grab my robe and head towards the door, i checked the grandfather clock. 8:03 in the morning. amazing. in new jersey it was 6 am. on solaria it’s 8.

there was a disagreement down the royal hallway. Jonathan and my assistant, Julia, who was been with me since my early youtube days, were arguing over something. they were far away enough that i couldn’t hear, but i could see them, and these two were huge on body language.

as Julia turned around to start to walk towards my door, i went panic mode. closed the door, sat down at my desk, and left. 6:04 am. new jersey. groggy.

the shift happened in less than a minute.

and i could finally say i shifted awake.

this was back in 2021 and the my first awake shift to my winx reality. i remember the entire thing to this day and it truly changed how i looked at my shifting journey.

#benniefranky tips and tricks #benniefranky #shiftblr #Youtube

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millersfinest · 17 hours ago

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untethered⁶ | e.w

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

wc: 8.9k

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

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

cw: lmao flip phones, r and ellie might have beat the cheating allegations, more use of y/n then i would prefer, she/her pronouns, some vulgar language, jealous!ellie (kind of), the millers, r is a writer (she doesn’t write much in this ch wink wink), ellie being insecure a bit, tommy and joel being brothers, r being a little self-deprecating, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, jealous ellie, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, abby is a plot device lmao, hella angst, rich!abby (one of r’s evil exes), repressed emotions, a flirty/horny cliffhanger-ish.

note: thank you guys for flooding my inbox w untethered ch 6 demands…. i hear you, i see you, i understand you… AND HERE’S THAT CHAPTER!!! im sorry for making you guys wait so long. it wasn’t easy writing this chapter, and i still feel like it sucks, but i hate keeping you guys waiting. like i genuinely feel bad 😞. theres like one paragraph that i love in here and thats's it... but as always, i hope you guys enjoy this chapter… next chapter (and final chapter) should be even more angsty, and hopefully, sexy. bisouu my loves <3 (if something doesn't make sense... yes it does)

The smell of broiling honey ham filled your nostrils. Humored voices of your father and Joel echoed from the outside as they grilled their sirloins over burning charcoal. You set the counters with the food that was already cooked and ready to eat, leaving them out like it were a buffet. The warm desserts were placed after the savory vegetables plated on some of your mother’s finest china. You and Maria waited for the ham, as it was the last thing to be ready—she wanted it to be fresh.

During this time, you changed into your evening clothes, which was none other than a pair of overall shorts, a white frilly crop top, and your cowboy boots. Clean ones, of course.

You haven’t seen or heard from Ellie since your little squabble. Joel had come in with a nicely cooked pie in his hands, without her, claiming that she had to make a quick run. Then, you noticed Cat was gone, too. Perhaps, there was some correlation there. You didn’t want to pester because of how tender everything was after your confession. That didn’t mean you weren’t curious, though. While you felt an immense pressure lifted from your shoulders, there was an underlying level of an unnerving feeling.

Old habits die hard, they say. And you find that to be true.

“So’s… your friend still comin’, honey?” Maria checks for the crispy brown on the shell of the ham in the oven. “Or is that called off since your realization…”

In the midst of sorting out your mother’s finest plates, you paused. “Shit,” You cursed, clenching a fist and shutting your eyes, tightly. Abby was still coming over for dinner—you completely forgot all about that! Fuck. You looked at the time on the oven, squinting your eyes. 5:57. “Is it too late to cancel on her?” You muttered, peering at your mother.

“What time did you tell her to be here by?”

“6-ish…”

Maria took in a deep breath, glancing up at her ceiling. “To be frank, Bug,” She inhaled through her teeth. “At some point you gotta throw in the asshole towel—“

There was a knock on the door. You cringed, gritting your teeth. “Please, can you answer it?” You beg, furrowing your eyebrows.

“No.” She deadpans.

“Well, I can’t… Because— because I have to go help dad and Joel with the steak.” You pressed your lips into a line, preparing to walk out to the back porch. You didn’t know if the culprit of the door knocking was Abby, but all the odds were pointing to her. If it were Ellie, she wouldn’t have knocked. And, if it were Cat, she’d be behind Ellie.

Before you could get far, she tugged on the back of your overalls, pulling you to a stop. “Answer the damn door.” Maria commanded, flashing her stern, bright eyes at you.

You pouted, stomping your foot. Nervousness arose in your chest, tightening and constricting. With a sigh, you approached the front door. When you pulled it open, the sight of a tall, muscular blonde grinning at you—caused a knowing smile creep onto your face. “Abby,” You sighed her name, taking in a deep inhale, leaning on the door.

A bottle of wine was held in her hands. “I hope I’m not too early.” She chuckled with a hint of nervousness. It was sweet.

“No… Not at all.” You ran your tongue over your lips, awkwardly reaching to hug her. You slid your arm around her waist, instead of her neck like usual—pressing your sides together, platonically. As if she were an acquaintance. Don’t think she didn’t take notice to that. “Come on in.” Gently, you take the bottle from her hands, peering at the label. It was a red wine, Pinot Noir, not your favorite.

You shut the door behind her, sighing once it clicked with your hands braced against the cool wood. Like that could cure the queasiness building in your stomach. With dragging legs, you walked her to the kitchen. Where your mother feigned unawareness. “Maria, this is my friend, Abby.” You introduced her without focus, setting the bottle on the kitchen counter behind the desserts. The use of your mother’s name was you trying to quip at her for making you answer the door.

She tucked her long, golden hair behind her ears, reaching a hand out to shake mother’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to put a name to a face.” Maria spoke, firmly taking hers. “How did you meet my daughter?” She followed up, quickly.

You rolled your eyes, scoffing under your breath. That was question was irrelevant to ask. She was asking her with the tone of a protective parent, but Abby was only ever going to be a friend—especially, after the last few days.

“We met at a fundraising event last year. My dad, he was a top bidder, and her agent, Isa, was a very persistent businesswoman.” Abby chortled, charmingly. She always managed to slip her financial status within her conversation—she was good at it. In that statement alone, she announced to your mother just how much she knew you. Enough to know the name of your agent, enunciating Isa’s name in a way to exploit your closeness—because how would she know how grueling that woman was at times? As well as letting her know that she could support you in ways others probably couldn’t.

My dad, he was a top bidder.

What the fuck did that matter? Her presence alone was getting under your skin; more than it ever had. And you weren’t sure if it was her fault, or your own.

You yearned for the girl who claimed to love you earlier in the day. That’s you’re fuckin’ problem. Always wanting to be perfect— but you’re not! Not even close. And I fucking love you for it. You could hear her raspy voice crowding over Abby’s friendly words. How Ellie achieved simultaneously calling you out, while passionately confessing her love for you—again—seamlessly… You’ll never know.

“Abby,” You spoke up. “Why don’t you help set the table? I’m gonna go check on the steaks… Maybe, after, I can give you a quick tour before dinner.” The only way to survive that was to push through—make her feel at home, try not to be weird.

“Sounds great!” She rubbed her hands together, excitedly. You hand her the delicate plates, giving a smile that barely met your eyes.

On the way toward the porch, you make eye contact with your mother. Curt. Stern. Irritated. Maria didn’t care to give a reaction—you must lie in the bed you made. Even though, you didn’t intend to forget to call things off with Abby. It’s been a very busy, dramatic two days.

Slipping through the back door, you look for the comfort of your father’s eyes. “Bug! Come taste this!” Tommy clamped his tongs, motioning to his tray of steak.

“I think you should taste mine first—“

“No! She’s my daughter— she’s tastin’ mine first.”

You waved a dismissive hand, chuckling under pouty lips. “I’ll taste both, but… I have to ask you somethin’ first, Joel.” Your face fell into a serious expression.

His brown eyes twitched, amused features melting from his aged face. “Yeah…”

“Ellie’s coming back, right?” Your fingers intertwined with themselves, while you chewed on the soft skin inside of your mouth. “The secrets out now, so… She can come back.” You shrugged, childishly. “And dinner’s gonna be ready any minute now— mom’s only gonna hold off for so long. She likes her ham hot.” Words flooded from your glossy lip, followed by a timid gulp.

“What made you think she wouldn’t come back, sweetheart?”

“It’s not like you explained where she went, Joel.” You deadpanned. “I was left to my own devices— as in, my own dysfunctional brain. You know what happens when I do that.”

He pursed his lips, fighting the grin he wanted to share. Joel glanced at his brother, huffing. “You didn’t ask, either, Bug.”

You paused, crossing your arms. “Did you ever consider that I didn’t want to? If you haven’t noticed— which I know that you have— she’s pissed at me.”

Joel inhaled, cutting off a piece of his steak for you. “I’m not pissed at you, though.” He hands it over to you on a fork, and you take it mindlessly. You weren’t known for having anger issues, but it seemed as if Joel was testing you.

“Joel, can you stop being a dick and tell me where she is?” You whined, childishly, before putting the square piece of meat into your mouth, chewing with identifying eyebrows. You looked up at the darkening sky, humming. His piece blossomed with flavor. It was a little tough, but you didn’t mind it because of how flavorful it was. “This is… Great. A little tough—” The voice of your father cut you off, mid-thought. Joel shrugged, nudging Tommy’s shoulder, teasingly.

Tommy scoffed, cutting a piece for you. “He manipulated you into trying his steak first— here’s mine.” He gasped, leaning the fork your way.

With a shrug, you took the fork, pulling the meat from the prongs with your front teeth. You hummed, again, peering at your father with wide eyes. Tommy’s was more tender, with a softer, pinker inside between the char. “Okay…” You roll your tongue in your mouth. “Whichever one of you tells me where Ellie is first, wins.”

“Honey, that’s not fair—“

“She’s dropping off Cat at the train station. I suggested they break up, and I’m sure they did— Ellie should be on her way back by now.”

A mischievous grin coursed over your features that were being bitten by the crisp, autumn air. “Silly, silly, Joel.” You shook your head. “You win on flavor… Dad, you win on texture— meaning overall, my favorite is yours. Congratulations.” You pat your fathers’ shoulder, pressing your lips into a tight smile.

You pivoted on your feet, chewing on the inside of your lips in thought. Ellie was dropping Cat off at the train station—you wondered what brought her from the ledge of revenge to return home on Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, you didn’t get the chance to apologize to her for your thoughtless behavior. But… Partially, you were relieved that you didn’t have to face her. However, there was a pull in your gut that you had to apologize regardless of her absence.

It was a tug of war with your morals and ego.

Basically, you snatched the screen door open, huffing and getting the attention of the chatty blonde and your mother. She was chewing on a piece of ham, moaning in delight. “Mrs. Miller, I hope you don’t mind if I have more than one serving later…”

“There’s plenty of ham to go around, hon.” She waved a hand, the ends of her lips curling.

Your eyebrows jut together, but you covered that small change of expression with a tight smile. “You ready for that tour, Abs?” You snapped your fingers. It was an awkward and very rare movement from you, but it was barely noticed. Not by Abby, at least.

She wiped her lips with a napkin, dusting her hands on her tight jeans. “If you don’t mind?” Abby politely spoke to your mother, and for a moment, it didn’t bother you. A few months ago, these little moments were what you wished for. You envisioned her eating your mom’s cooking with a smile, conversing with her in your childhood home—but she didn’t want that. It was bitterly humorous how much of a natural she was in the scope of things.

Maria nodded, giving you an off glance, and jutting her blonde eyebrows upwards. You took her hand, dragging her out the front door, shoving through the screen door. Once you were out in the brisk, autumn air, you slid your hand from hers—crossing your arms over your chest like a shield of some sort.

“I thought your bedroom would be the first stop…” Abby chortled to herself, glancing down at you. However, you barely reacted. Perhaps, she was joking or jesting—trying to make you laugh.

Internally, you cringed. “My bedroom is the least fascinating thing here.” You narrowed your eyes at her, leading the woman down the porch. “So, what interests you the most? Horses? Goats? Cows?” You perk an eyebrow, peering up at her. Eyes switching between her semi-awkward stature and the background of the front of the house. You yearned for the dull high beams of Ellie’s truck.

“Horses are cool…” She nodded, surveying your features, trying to determine your thoughts. Abby has never been so focused on you, and frankly, it made you feel weird. A part of you wanted to relish in the fact that she was giving you the energy you had been wanting from her all along. But the wound that was severed by the touch and attention of your past lover—nothing could compare! It would be greedy for you to welcome this modified version of Abby Anderson. Deep down, if it came down to it, you’d choose Ellie over Abby; no questions asked.

“My dad, he has a soft spot for animals… The last time I saw a horse I was, like, fifteen.” Abby continued, while you led her toward the horse barn. “He took me to some ranch for my birthday.”

You hummed, raising an eyebrow. “It wasn’t this one, right?” A chuckle fell from your lips, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your overalls.

Abby guffawed, pushing a straying piece of her hair behind her ears. “No, it wasn’t this one. The ranch I went to, their horses were very easily frightened—which was odd because their whole shtick was horse-riding.” She deepened her eyebrows at the memory, shrugging her shoulders. “I almost fell off one of ‘em.”

“Geez, Abs.” You puffed air from your lips. “Well, my parents have always spent lots of time training these horses— so, you have nothing to be worried about.” Your fingers grazed the material of her shirt on her arm, pressing your lips into a smile. “The only one that isn’t formally trained is Sarah, but she’s only a few weeks old. And to be honest, she takes to new people very well.” As you approached the barn, a few of them still grazed around. It was Shimmer and Sarah out along the fence, and Hamlet sort of just watching them.

“Alright, I’ll have to trust you.” She pursed her lips.

“I’d never lead you into the fire, Abby…”

You opened the gate, walking into the enclosure of the barn. Abby appeared apprehensive about walking into their space. Her previous experience with a horse must’ve truly affected her. Warmly, you held out a hand for her—giving her the option to take it. You wiggled your fingers, sporting a slightly teasing smile. Abby took your hand, firmly, holding onto your hand as if she never wanted to let go. Spark.

Her fear was endearing; it was like seeing her in a different light. How confusing.

“Over there, that’s Shimmer and her baby Sarah. They’re both the most affectionate. Sarah takes after her mother in that way. And lingering off to the side… That’s Hamlet—he’s a bit of a loner. He likes to walk around and keep an eye on everyone.”

“Like a protector?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” You nod, still holding onto her coarse hand. “I could introduce you to Shimmer? Like I said, she’s super sweet— I’m sure she’ll adore you.” You wanted to give her the option because that was just the type of person that you were. Despite your flip-floppy relationship, in a sense, you allowed her admittance of a small fear to soften your heart to her. The tethering of your hands, the feeling of leading her—controlling her, guiding her—it gave you a sense of comfort. It was a connection that you were waiting for. However, still, it didn’t feel the same compared to the auburn-haired artist. Now, that there was a chance to compare.

Her palms were too coarse, more focused on her inner knuckles, remnants of her history with heavy lifting. While Ellie’s exposed her love of physical art, music, drawing, painting. The callouses relied on her fingertips rather than her palms—and for some reason, that mattered more to you.

With her hand in yours, you lead her toward Shimmer, cooing as you approached her. You muttered sweet words to the much shorter horse, Sarah, before guiding her hand to touch Shimmer. You palm over the back of her hand to reassure that Abby was safe—that she wasn’t going to hurt her.

You weren’t leading her into the fire.

Her soft, blue eyes gleamed at you, but it was hard to notice at first as you were focused on Shimmer. Your other hand scratched at the side of her neck, burrowing your nails under her coarse fur. A nervous tick; an attempt at ignoring the harsh gaze of the blonde next to you. Abby’s dilated irises penetrated the side of your face with the weight of a glare. You swallowed a lump in your throat, averting your eyes from Shimmer’s copper fur toward her enamored features.

There wasn’t much time for you to take in her look of yearning before she enveloped you into her arms, attaching her lips to yours. She shared her warmth with her firm arms cradling your bare ones, and it did, in fact, warm you up. But it wasn’t warm. Although, your arms automatically wrapped around her shoulders—fingers imbedding into her fine, blonde hair—you allowed her touch to consume you. Her desperate touch. Her lips plead against yours, pleading for you to dive into her as she wanted you to. As you used to with fervor. Abby noticed your lack of enthusiasm, or more so attempt to replicate your past enthusiasm. She prided herself on her intelligence, meaning that she knew something had changed between the two of you. Either you gained more self-respect for yourself, or there was someone else.

Someone who touched you better than she did. Someone who had the time to love you how you wanted to be loved.

Off in the dark, a truck pulled onto the graveled driveway of the younger Millers’ home. When she put the car in park, leaned her head against the stirring wheel, releasing a groan of relief. The trip to the train station was long, and initially silent. Until Cat became livid enough to make Ellie pull over for an hour. She was sobbing, screaming, unleashing her pent-up anger on the artist—and deservingly so; Ellie knew that much. Debatably, it was one of her best fuckups because it brought you back to her.

It all began with the tempting of a fruit. The garden of Eden—your quivering lips in a filthy, bar bathroom. Historians call that the fall of man, however, ever since she succumbed to you, she’s felt higher than she ever has. A burning joint was nothing compared to you.

Ellie’s poor decision making was worth Cat’s wrath if it brought her back to you.

But there was a lingering pressure that haunted her mind like a juvenile insecurity. A two-syllable word that was a poltergeist in her mind—fickle. Was the reigniting of a fire, the fire that Ellie sparked, received for the sake of receiving. Maybe, you didn’t love her like you claimed—but that didn’t make sense. Not for you!

The disorganized artist worried and worried and worried. When her dull high beams reflected off the white, farmhouse ahead of her; her nerves only increased. There was this need to prove herself to you that she couldn’t shake.

After gathering courage, she hopped out of her truck, slamming the door to release the energy that harbored at the pit of her belly. Ellie shoved the key into the driver’s door, locking all of the doors with a huff. Her toes pivoted, hands sliding into her front pockets as she approached the house—mentally readying herself to see your face again. The last time the two of you spoke, she proclaimed her love for you despite your blundering imperfections. Ellie was sure that you didn’t take well to that; she needed to explain!

Her beat-up converse crunched over the gravel; she could feel every pebble under her deteriorating sole. In the dark, her earthy eyes squinted in the direction of the barn—to get a look at the grazing horses she spent time with earlier. Ellie wanted to check up on them from the distance in which she walked. However, she was met with a sight that burned her from the inside out.

It was you wrapped in the arms of the same woman from the bar. Tall in her stature, in a black shirt that hugged her protruding muscles perfectly. Long, glimmering, golden hair that your fingers punctured. To feel a combination of emotions was an understatement.

Her fingers tingled up her slender arms, lips arching in disgust. “What the fuck is happening…?” Ellie muttered with grit, starting to stalk toward the house, scoffing under her breath. But, before she reached the stairs to the porch, she turned on her feet again. Consumed with frustration, she began to lead herself toward the horse barn with stiff shoulders and balled-up fists.

Ellie appeared on the opposite side of the fence than you and Abby with a look in her eye that could be confused for estrangement. While you were already breaking apart, placing your hand on Abby’s firm chest, unable to meet her eyes—afraid to expose your apprehension. The artist’s appearance caused you to nearly jump out of your boots. You jumped a few inches from the taller blonde woman, placing your fingers over your glistening lips, ruminating with regret.

“I’m afraid we haven’t gotten the chance to meet— I’m Ellie.” Her raspy voice was taut, and too formal. It was barely the voice that you were used to. She failed to offer a physical greeting, like offering her hand; she just kept her hands had her sides.

You hid your face in your hands, cursing to yourself. Fuck. Fuck. Abby lips parted, awkwardly. “Uhm, Abby Anderson… I’ve heard a lot about you.” Her slender eyebrows jutted upwards, and she held out her hand, but wasn’t met with warmth. It was true that she knew about Ellie—the past version of her, at least. She’d heard the story of her poking and prodding at you in your youth, but even with that, you never spoke ill of her. By the time you met Abby, there was a level of accountability taken over the situation that didn’t exist years before.

She was nothing more than a story about your first love.

Ellie glanced at you, bitterly. “Yeah, I’m sure you have…” She ran her earthy eyes up Abby’s tall, muscular figure with a frown.

“Ellie—” Her voice cut you off before you could speak, causing you to look off to the side in contempt.

“Dinner’s ready, right? We should probably head inside… Wouldn’t wanna leave Maria waiting.” The auburn-haired woman stalked off before either you or Abby had the chance to react. You sighed, barely sparing the blonde a glance before following behind her. A frown pressed deeply onto your lips, mind racing behind your shifting, watering eyes. Abby muttered a ‘what the hell’ under her breath, smacking her hands against her thighs. But you didn’t say anything, just gnawed on the inside of your lip, anxiously. The tables turned too fast for your liking.

The auburn-haired artist didn’t care to hold the screen door open for you and your guest, quickly entering the house. Tommy and Joel were inside sorting the steaks out in a singular disposable tin pan. They looked up simultaneously, like brothers, at the sight before them. Joel squinted at the sight of a fuming Ellie, or the sight of her trying to hide her frustration and anger. And Tommy looked to you with a similar look, and a simple jut of his eyebrows at the blonde woman behind you.

“Steak! I’m fucking starving.” You heard Ellie mutter, walking to the counter after taking a plate from the dining table.

A sigh left your lips while your father handed you an empty plate, but you passed it over to Abby—still, not sparing her a glance. Then, he handed you another one. The blonde man leans down, speaking in your ear while your mother tried to break the awkwardness of Abby’s presence. “Something happened?” He muttered, putting food on his plate.

“Mhm…” You glanced at him with wide, weary eyes.

Somehow, everyone found themselves sat at the dining table: you between Abby and your mother, and Ellie between Tommy and Joel—you were looking straight at each other. You pleaded with your eyes for her not to react; that you could explain if you were given the chance. But that was too much to say with only a pointed gaze.

“So, Abby, what do you do?” She asked the blonde beside you, cutting her steak, forcefully.

“I’m a surgeon— an intern at Bellevue Hospital.” She nodded, forking the vegetables on her plate.

“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Tommy nodded, he glanced at her. His comment made Ellie’s eye twitch, subtly. “I have a friend who works in the medical field— have you figured out your specialty yet, or…”

Abby hummed, sipping water from a shiny glass cup, looking over the rim to meet your father’s eyes. “Not quite. My dad’s a general surgeon, so that interested me the most— but the more I work with surgeons under different specialties, the more I find myself interested in other things.” She swallowed, blinking. “Like, now, I’m considering orthopedic surgery.”

“That’s the one with the bones, right?” Joel questioned, partly chewing on his food.

“Yes, sir. That’s the one.” She chuckled, leaning her forearms on the table.

You watched Ellie take a gulp of her beer before speaking once more. “So, if you’re a surgeon… And y/n’s a writer— how’d the two of you meet?”

Maria smiled, glancing at her husband. “Well, Ellie, they met through her agent, Isa. At an event— what was it? A gala?”

“A fundraiser.” Finally, you spoke up to correct, holding up a finger that proclaimed your usual know-it-all behavior. Then, you reached for your wine glass, taking large gulps to down the substance—hoping it’d ease your uneven temper. You noticed that your lover, the auburn-haired one, had played the word fundraiser on her tongue. Under her breath, she talked to herself as if she was mocking the way you said the word.

The muscular blonde beside you cleared her throat, leveling her bright eyes onto the woman in front of you. “What do you do, Ellie?” Abby wondered with a barely noticeable sneer, but you caught it.

From the corner of your eye, you peered at her, stiffening your frame.

Her round, olive eyes glared at her—a glare that nobody at that table could miss. Everyone but Abby knew Ellie through and through; her anger couldn’t be hidden. In fact, she was the last person at that table who could ever hide her anger. “I’m an artist.” She curtly responded.

“So, you draw?”

“And she paints.” You fill in, turning your head in the direction of your guest. Her inquiry seemed backhanded—passive aggressive—and that struck a nerve. As if drawing was insignificant. “She’s really good at it.” Your eyes meet hers and for a moment her harsh, green eyes softened.

“Have I seen any of your work anywhere?”

“You don’t seem like a coffee shop person, so I doubt it.” Ellie grimaced, rolling her eyes. “I’m getting another drink.” Abruptly, she stood out of her chair, to walk into the kitchen that was hidden behind a wall and corner. The wooden legs screeching against the floor, causing you to cringe.

Abby shrugged, peering at you with a slight curl to her lips. “I love coffee.”

You scoffed, shutting your eyes. Without saying a word, you stood to your feet to follow her into the kitchen. Before you slipped away, you managed to slide your fingers along your guests’ shoulders as a way of reassurance—mainly so she wouldn’t get the urge to follow you.

When you entered the kitchen, Ellie was found with her hands braced on the counter and her head hanging low. The heels of your cowboy boots clicking against kitchen floor, slowly. Apprehensively. Nervously. You played with your fingertips, puffing air from your lips. “Ellie…”

“What the fuck was that?” Her eyes met yours, stressed and irritated with striking red veins.

You shrugged, pressing your lips into a line. “I was sticking up for you—“

“That’s not what I’m talkin’ about and you know that…” She scorned, barely even blinking her eyes. They bored into you in a way that almost petrified your frame.

You swallowed, casting your eyes up to the ceiling, guiltily. “It just happened.”

“It just happened?” She perked a scarred eyebrow, chortling, dryly. “It just fucking happened— I bet you could say the same for what happened between us, too, huh?” Ellie turned her body toward you, keeping her other hand leaning on the counter. Her voice was level, trying to keep the conversation down so other wouldn’t hear it—because even when she was angry, she still felt the need to shield you. Or more so, keep your relationship problems undercover. “Tell me, y/n… Am I fucking idiot? You made this big fuss about me breaking up with Cat, and the second I do, I see you eating Abby’s fucking face!”

“I wasn’t eating her face…”

“Semantics!”

“It was out of nowhere— I didn’t ask her to kiss me, Ellie!” You tried with a deep furrow in your brow, lips quivering. “It’s just… It’s just we have history—“

She laughed, bitterly.

“We have history and she’s stuck in a cycle I haven’t had the chance to break.”

Ellie squinted her eyes at you. “What the hell does that even mean?” Voice pulled taut, stepping closer to you. “You said that if I got rid of Cat, you’d get rid of Abby.”

“I forgot she was coming! Did you forget the day we had?!” The space between you was closing in the heat of frustration. “We didn’t exactly end on good terms earlier— excuse me for letting something as minuscule as Abby attending dinner to slip my mind.” You rambled with a secretive voice. “I had a very eventful day—“

“And you think I didn’t?”

You groaned under your breath, bunching your hands into fists at your sides. “I never said you didn’t… I just said that I did. There’s a lot on my mind.” A sigh fled your lips, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose. “You know, I told my parents about us— right after our argument, because I couldn’t let them hear it from you or Cat.” Your voice softened, peering into her dilated eyes. Your trembling fingers tethered to the cotton that covered her arm, sliding down, attempting to reach for her hand. “I made peace with what we did… Because I wanna be with you, Els.” The choice to quote her own words wasn’t intentional, it was your truth.

When she had scolded you in your own bedroom, it wasn’t a great feeling, but she wasn’t wrong. You needed to stop wanting to be perfect all the time—nobody makes the best decisions every chance they get. Sometimes people fuckup and that’s okay.

The image of you searching her eyes made her heart melt. She wanted to fall into you—to kiss you, and say everything was fine… Even if it wasn’t. Ellie felt your hand creeping into hers. Your soft fingertips tapping her stiff palm. She found herself proud of you for admitting your faults to your parents—it was your greatest fear, but you did it anyway. Perhaps, you have changed or you were learning to. However, the looming presence of that buff surgeon irritated her.

Jealousy was a raging bitch.

And, speaking of… There she came, strutting into the kitchen with a look of concern. “Hey, is everything alright?” Her deep blue eyes only looked at you, gaging your stability—she couldn’t care less for Ellie’s.

Ellie swiped her hand from yours, running that same hand through her hair. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” She reached into the fridge, snatching a glass bottle of beer from the door. Just as quick as she did that, she fled the scene. Not sparing you a glance.

Eerily, your hand felt cold. You pouted, watching her leave, scratching your eyebrow. Abby uttered your name, sliding her hand around your waist. Your body tensed under her touch—it wasn’t what you yearned for. “Everything’s fine, Abby.” You breathed, gently touching the hand on your waist, removing it. However, you hid your form of rejection by turning to her, plastering a fake smile on your face.

“Joel started playing his guitar… Didn’t want you to miss it.”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before— but I don’t want you to miss it, so…” You take in a deep inhale, averting your eyes. “I’ll meet you in there. I need a minute.”

Abby appeared taken aback and confused. You weren’t acting like the person she thought that she knew. And to be fair, it all started at the Tipsy Bison. “What’s going on— is something wrong—?”

“I just need a minute, alright?” You stressed, pinching your features. Almost snapping at her, but not quite. Still, your tone unnerved the blonde. She twitched, backing up from you with dejected shoulders. Abby scoffed under her breath, leaving you to pace in the kitchen alone—just like you wanted.

Because of your sudden stance at the dinner table, standing up to trot after Ellie, you forgot your empty wine glass. Instead of ducking toward the table to grab it, you just grabbed a clean glass from the cabinet. You poured a full glass of the Pinot Grigio that Ellie and Tommy had brought—nearly filling it to the brim. God, you needed a cigarette. The nicotine could hold you and console you better than a full bottle of wine. Better than the large, calloused hands of Abigail Anderson. But, better than the nimble, lightly calloused hands of Ellie Williams? Her arms? The whisps of her bluntly cut hair tickling your skin—no. Nothing was better than that… Than her.

The melodic sounds of Joel’s guitar filled your ears, and the impressed chuckles of his brother—your father. You missed hearing him play. His pleasant strum eased the spirits slipping down your throat. Then, you heard another tune, and it pulled you from the confines of the kitchen.

Your fingers held the bulbous part of the glass, resting your elbow over your arm. You moved as if you were being drawn spiritually to the living room, appearing behind Abby.

Ellie had propped herself on a stool in front of the television, with her own guitar, the one that had an inscription of your initials on the neck. It couldn’t be seen from the position you stood, but the feeling of knowing it was still there made your heart lurch.

Your parents sat on the couch, and Joel had been on a loveseat toward the side, fiddling with his own guitar. Nervously, Ellie plucked the copper strings of her guitar, attempting to quickly tune it. Her freckled cheeks were warm and a light shade of pink.

Her earthy eyes looked up at your sudden appearance and you smiled behind your full glass of wine, shyly. The corners of her plush lips curled in a subtle way that your guest would miss it—or at least you hoped that she did. Or… Maybe you didn’t. You’ve proven to be a shameless person over the past few days.

When she began to strum the guitar, she played the tune of a song that was familiar to you—Keane—Somewhere Only We Know. It was one of the songs featured on her MySpace account, in her bio. One of the first things a lurker would notice after seeing her fandom username.

Her soft, timid voice rose from her throat, singing the beginning of the song. You sipped at your white wine, lowering the glass so she could see the smile unable to fall from your lips. There was a rasp to her voice that exposed her skills to be an effect of her hobby-ing. Ellie sung not because she was good at it, but because she wanted to—it gave her comfort. And, perhaps, that’s what she needed.

“So, tell me when you’re gonna let me in… I’m getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin.”

Your epidermis burned, cheeks heating up as if it were w furnace being heated by charring charcoal. Let me in. It was selfish for you to apply yourself to the words she spoke that was written by another person. But you needed to let her in! Irrevocably.

However, for you to do that… You needed to let Abby out.

You reached up for her shoulder, tugging her closer to your level, so you could whisper in her ear. “Meet me in my bedroom in five minutes— upstairs.” Your lips moved close to the shell of her ear, fingers tapping along her strong shoulder. She didn’t know where your bedroom was, but you were certain she’d find it.

Maria side-eyed you as you slipped away with slumping shoulders. Ellie noticed your departure, stammering on the lyrics she was singing, but she kept going, dejectedly.

The navigation from the living room to your bedroom helped you realize the sum of what you drank. You stumbled on your way up the stairs, holding onto the railing, shutting your eyes and shaking your head to gather yourself.

When you entered your bedroom, you set the glass on your bedside table, meandering to your reading nook. You had swiped the pack of cigarettes from your dresser, opening up the window and lighting up to calm your wired nerves.

The cool breeze wafted into your bedroom, sending a chill down your spine. Between your index and middle finger was your burning stick of nicotine and tobacco. Remnants stuck to your clothes before slipping out the flushing window.

You practiced how you were going to break it off with her. Direct or indirect—which one was best?

Abby, we need to talk…

Abby, I have something to tell you—

“There you are…” The blonde woman peeked into your bedroom before walking inside. She shut the door behind her, and you frowned out your window. “Your room’s pinker than I thought I’d be.” Abby chortled, preparing to join you on the nook, but you spoke before she could.

“We can’t see each other anymore…” You puffed smoke from your lips, eyeing her from the corner of your eye.

She bunched her eyebrows together, lips parting. “What—?”

“And don’t act like we weren’t seeing each other, because we very much were.”

Her hands hit her thighs. “I wasn’t going to.” A deep sigh came from her mouth, fingers reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Fuck, I should’ve seen this coming.” Abby muttered, shaking her head.

You tapped your thumb around the mouthpiece of your cigarette to get rid of the ashes. “I should’ve never invited you here. I knew better, but—“ The corner of your mouth lifted and you laughed. “I wanted to be an asshole. You don’t deserve that, though. Even if you led me on for a few months.”

“Is that what all this is about? What happened with us?” She ran her hand through her hair, cheeks reddening. “y/n, I wasn’t thinking and…”

“It doesn’t matter, Abby.” You looked at her, intently. “I need someone who makes time for me— even in the oddest of situations, and that’s not you.” You tried to keep your business to yourself. The relationship that was blooming between you and an old flame; it was sacred. And, she didn’t need to know that you were taking on homewrecking as a hobby.

She scoffed, averting her eyes from you. “What did you think me driving down here was, then? Skipping out on my friends to come to a place you didn’t even want me to be—“

“I didn’t ask you to skip out on your friends—“

“Well, I did anyway!”

A beat passed between the both of you.

The blonde woman frowned. “For you, because I wanted to make up for…” Her voice trailed off, eyes welling up with tears. “It was all for nothing, clearly.”

Earlier, you had made promise that you wouldn’t lead her into fire. Yet, that’s exactly what you did. “Abby, I still appreciate you coming and being so helpful and kind to my family but… To be honest, it’s too late for me.”

Her hand wiped against her face, roughly. She trained her eyes on a spot in your room that was interesting enough to keep her emotional gaze—instead of looking you in the eye. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

You deepened your eyebrows. “Do I think you’re stupid—? “

“It’s Ellie, isn’t it?”

Your lips fell open, gaping like fish gasping for air. “You textbook lesbian…” Abby muttered to herself, chuckling, dryly.

“Abby!” You scolded, glaring up at her.

“What? It’s the truth. I never had a fucking chance to begin with.”

In a fit of frustration, you dabbed the end of your burning cigarette onto one of your pillows, burning through the material. “That’s not true!” You stood up, abruptly. “I gave you a chance months ago, and you fucking blew it!” You pointed an accusatory finger. “You’re career meant more to you—“

“Since when is that a bad thing—?”

“Fuckin’ other girls meant more to you!”

She gasped. “Oh, come on, you know that’s a reach…” Her eyes rolled, dismissively.

Stubbornly, you crossed your arms. “Do I?”

Abby scoffed, laughing, dryly. “Ever since I met you… I liked you— I was into you. I wanted you.” She confessed, tiredly. “My unavailability wasn’t some made up lie to pull a fast one. I was an overachieving, fourth-year med student who didn’t wanna risk too many distractions.” The woman explained, pausing for anxious breath. “Yeah, I know, I said some things that probably hurt your feelings—“

“Probably?” You perked an eyebrow.

She sighed. “Hurting your feelings was the only way I knew you wouldn’t expect anything of me more than what I was capable of— and, at the time, relationship-wise… I wasn’t capable of anything.” Her shoulders shrugged, weakly. As if she’s been keeping this to herself for some time.

Weirdly, you’re shoulders relaxed at her explanation. While you didn’t agree with her techniques to keep you at arms-length, you weren’t in the position to keep holding onto that frustration with her. You had other priorities. “I guess you’re right… I fucking blew it.”

Now, you sighed, averting your eyes around your room in thought. “You know, maybe, we were always meant to be friends?” You offered, rocking on your feet.

“You think I wanna be friends with you, right now?” Abby raised an eyebrow, looking at you from the side of her irritated eyes. But, there was a light smile on her lips, exposing that she wasn’t completely upset. Just disappointed that things didn’t work out as she’d hoped. “Seems like there’s something going on with you and that artist downstairs… That’s not something I wanna see— at least, not anytime soon, so…”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, whenever you have some free time on your hands, whenever you, you know, find someone else, or whatever… Maybe we could get some coffee— as friends.”

She genuinely chortled, cheeks blushing. “Yeah, whatever, Miller.” Abby jutted her thumb toward your door. “I’m gonna head out.”

You nodded, walking her to your bedroom door, following her out. “You want me to make you a plate, or anything?” That southern hospitality that was bred into you through your family could never be mistaken for being gone. Those years in the city hadn’t deteriorated you in that way. Even when you were breaking up with someone.

The woman pressed her lips into a line. “You know, what? Yeah, sure.”

“Good, because I was gon’ make you one anyway.” You nudged her side with your elbow, grinning ear to ear.

There was freedom that came to your unabashed honesty. As you walked down the stairs, your limps felt lighter, and that drunken feeling had almost spared you completely. Almost. On the last step, you nearly tripped but the sturdy railing kept your body level.

As you rounded the corner, Ellie brushed passed you and out the front door with her hand clutching her guitar. Her emotional eyes had caught the smile on your lips and perceived something that wasn’t true—just a shady assumption.

And she had every reason to assume.

The television had been turned up, and the sounds of the football game was blaring through the lower level of the house. You held up a finger to Abby, walking to your mother. “Hey,” You greeted, massaging your father’s shoulder as a physical greeting. “Would you mind makin’ Abby a plate to take home?”

She raised an eyebrow, an impressed eyebrow. “Oh, she’s leaving so soon?”

“I’m throwin’ in the asshole towel.” You shrugged, referencing her comment from earlier.

Maria chuckled, but her husband looked up at you with deepened eyebrows. “What the hell did you just say? Asshole towel—?”

“Just focus on the game, honey.” She patted her husbands shoulder, jumping to her feet. Maria met you around the couch, leaning close to you. “You go’n ahead and check on Ellie.”

You smiled, kissing her cheek, lovingly. Before you left out the door you, pointed at the tall doctor lingering in your kitchen. “Text me when you get back into the city, okay?”

Abby gave you a thumbs up. “Yeah,” Her eyes turned to your mothers frame. “Thank you, Mrs. Miller.”

Then, you slipped out the screen door, busting into a hasty speed walk. The uneven gravel wrecking havoc on your ankles, due to your slight impairment.

The porch light at the guesthouse flickered—it must need its bulb to be changed. When you appeared on the porch, your fist trembled as you raised it to knock on the door. Knock, knock, knock. You wrapped your arms around your body to keep warm.

A few moments passed and she didn’t respond.

You knocked the same pattern, and waited. Only for her to not respond, again. Behind you, you heard the engine of Abby’s Jaguar sounding off, beginning to roll along the gravel. But, you didn’t care much for it.

Heat in your cheeks blistered. “Ellie, I know you’re in there… Please, can you just open the door?” You tried with frowned lips. “It isn’t gettin’ any warmer out here…”

There was a brief silence before you heard her raspy voice on the other side of the door. “What? Abby can’t keep you warm anymore?” She scoffed.

You sighed, leaning an arm on the door frame. “No, she can’t because she just left.”

The door swung open, revealing a disheveled artist, fingers covered in charcoal. “Really?”

“Really.” You met her eyes with sincerity.

Ellie groaned, releasing the tension that she’s been harboring, leaving the door and walking into the living room.

That was her letting you inside, so you adhered, walking into the guesthouse. You shut the door behind you, eyeing her slender retreating frame. She meandered into the living room, placing hers on the stool in front of her easel. It was a new canvas, still being sketched on before she added the paints.

The pan of the pie sat on the coffee table in front of the couch, with a fork inside of it. She had taken the pie for herself, and instead of making a plate, she ate it from the tin.

Ellie continued the project she was working on, barely even giving you a glance. To break the silence, you spoke. “I meant what I said earlier…”

You couldn’t exactly see what she was sketching because you wanted to keep your distance for her sake—to respect her uncertainty. “I don’t know…” She muttered, shaking her head.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

The woman sighed, turning her body toward you on the stool. She pushed the pieces of her auburn hair behind her pierced ears. “I’m an artist who’s only sells my paintings to local coffee shops for under a hundred bucks, because I’m too scared to try anywhere else— she’s a fucking doctor… And she’s ripped!” Her hands slapped against her thighs. “Why do you wanna be with me?”

Taken aback by her outburst, you blinked. A soft scoff left your lips. “Well, I don’t like you only because you’re an artist… And I didn’t like Abby only because she was a doctor— what kind of person do you think I am?” You questioned, softly. “I wanna be with you because I love you, Ellie— Abby could never make me feel what you make me feel.” You giggle behind your finger, briefly averting your eyes. “It’s like… I can fuckin’ smell colors and taste sounds—“

“Okay, now you’re just saying whatever.”

“Hey, you’re the one who asked why I want to be with you. I’m just being honest.” You shrugged, approaching her. Gently, you caressed your fingers up her bare arms, sliding up her neck to the crevice of her jaw. “I know it wasn’t easy to see what you saw earlier, and I’m sorry— I mean, just seeing you hug Cat made me wanna blow up.” She leaned into your touch, keening to you.

Smiling down at her, your eyes casted to the canvas on the easel. It was an outline of you—matter of fact, your naked body. “Ellie,” A gasp fled from your lips. “This better be an example of your photographic memory.”

Her hands had snuck along your hips, pulling you close enough for her head to rest on your chest. “It is… What do you think— I’m some sort of creep?”

“I find it funny that when you’re mad at me… Your first instinct is to draw me naked.” You snicker.

She hummed against the center pocket of your overalls. “I wasn’t necessarily mad— I was just… Sad.” Ellie looked up at you with a pout on her lips, batting her big, green eyes at you in a way that compelled you. “Abby is so much more than me— fuck, she’s financially worth more than me.” She inhaled, deeply. “What made me upset was that I understood why you’d choose her… She has a great career—“

Interrupting her, you plotted your lips against hers until her reciprocating was less confused and more enthused. Your finger dragged along her scalp, gripping slightly. When you pulled away, she leaned forward for more. “I don’t wanna talk about her anymore.” Your thumb grazed over her eyebrow, ingesting her soft features. The freckles that littered over the bridge of her nose, the subtle cracks in her lips. “I’ve been waiting to get you all to myself for days now— I refuse to waste it away because of some girl.”

“Some girl, huh?”

“Mhm.” You hummed. “I missed that cover of Keane that you had sung earlier… You think you could play it for me?” You pursed your lips, and she pulled your hips closer to her, pulling you between her legs.

Ellie peered up at you with yearning irises. “I can play whatever you want.”

A giggle escaped from your lips before you plotted them against hers once more, pulling her up to her feet. You pulled her to the bedroom, where her guitar was thrown over the messy, unmade bed.

She propped herself on the edge of the bed, and you plopped onto the ground so you could properly be her audience. You hugged your legs to your chest, looking up at her with a level of awe that you haven’t had in a while. Reflections of your past looked back at you—Ellie gripping the neck of her instrument, strumming the metal chords that’s been with her for years. Those chords had witnessed the glimmering eyes you were giving her; at a much younger age, before shit went haywire.

The smooth tone of Somewhere Only We Know glided through your ears, ignoring the chords she lagged on, or messed up because it didn’t matter. When she finished, Ellie barely got the chance to look at you before you leaped up to kiss her again. Gently, you pulled the guitar from her hands, leaning it up against the bed, tethering to her as if she were a wave crashing along an eroding boulder.

To love her freely was a weight lifted off your shoulders. It was a rush of water sprinting up the sand within a storm. A breaching of magma exploding from the mouth of a volcano—a expression of a release of passion. The inevitable.

No more Cat. No more Abby. But, besides the good sex, and the warmth of each other’s genuine embrace, and the comfort of knowing each other through and through… What else was there?

taglist: @autisticintr0vert , @liasxeatt , @hopingforgoodblogs , @lia-winther , @macaroni676 , @tobiotruther , @anewkindofloove , @fatbootymuncher , @maiaska , @culuvr , @0phantom0 , @onlinelesbo , @bbnbhm , @lovelaymedown , @lamorenita , @scatapple , @elliewilliamsblunt , @goddessofchaosss , @mikellie , @emmanetalias , @sevyscoven , @lluvbk , @saturnhas82moons , @na0koz , @violetszn , @prwttiestbunny , @superbscissorsdeanexpert , @iheartclairo66 , @avalovesmus1c , @flowerl1lly , @meow4510 , @222celestial , @sawaagyapong

#🪅#millersfinest #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams imagine #lesbian #ellie williams series #untethered

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anbaisai · 1 day ago

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HI HI QUESTIONS FOR MAYU CHAN

3. Tell us about a complicated relationship your OC has with another character? 15. What is a secret not many characters know about your OC?

(it's okay if you only want to answer one or the other hfgjh)

(Ask game from here)

3. Tell us about a complicated relationship your OC has with another character?

If we ignore whatever's between her and Jamil because that’ll take forever for me to explain

Her relationship with Azul is a bit complicated. She’s rather uneasy around him because he has loan shark/shady door-to-door salesman vibes (she knows enough about these guys from back home). Her better judgement compels her to never give him any openings for him to take advantage of, so she studies as hard as she can to pass exams without needing to ask for his help.

Although the events of Book 3 made her respect him a bit more because of how hard he worked on those notes, she’d still prefer to interact with him minimally. Azul, on the other hand, takes this as a challenge. Surely there must be something he can offer a lone girl at an all boys school that’ll tempt her into making a deal? Whether or not he’ll be successful, we shall see… (I may or may not have a comic idea based on this planned for the future)

15. What is a secret not many characters know about your OC?

Not sure if I’d consider any of these a secret, but I have a handful of trivia about her that I haven’t shared before:

She wears her uniform very properly because Riddle praised her for it once at the beginning of the school year and she took it to heart (Ace calls her boooooring for it). Although she's noticed Azul dresses the same way and is… considering unbuttoning the jacket.

She’s allergic to cats and not personally aware of it. She attributes her runny nose and sneezing to something else, every time: must be because Ramshackle’s too dusty, or it’s the pollen from the gardens, or the air in Twisted Wonderland is just special. She hasn’t figured out it’s Grimmy yet. Yes, this applies to Leona as well.

She has rather good aim, though these days it’s only relevant when she tries to toss things into the trash can from a distance.

She likes to give tools (like the knife or spatula when she cooks) a little spin or twirl in her hand before she uses them.

She doesn’t really like to eat alone. Thankfully she has Grimmy in this world who's more than happy to join for meals.

#asks #ask game #my art #twisted wonderland #twst #riddle rosehearts #twst oc #oc #shiokawa mayu

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tillysslife · 2 days ago

Text

the night we met—w. scobell

۫ ꣑ৎ pairing: walker scobell!bf x gf!fem!reader

warnings: mix of past & present. ultimate fluff!

the way his hands were trailing up and down your spine had you constantly shivering. walker’s effect on you would never diminish, no matter how long you two had been together it still felt like the start of your relationship.

walker cuddles were elite, they always have been, but with all the work he had been putting in the gym recently you felt even more comfortable in his strong arms.

“hey,” you murmur, your voice soft from not speaking for a while. you turn your face toward him, taking in all of the features you loved so dearly. his bright blue eyes that look down at you with admiration, his sharp jawline that you love to kiss and the way the corner of his lips were tugging at the side into a smile. “do you remember the night we met?”

you feel him smile against your skin, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of your neck. “mhm. as soon as i saw you i knew i had to have you.”

“yeah?” you questioned softly, twirling his short curls around your fingers. “why’s that?”

you were so nervous. it was your first ever premiere, flashing lights of the paparazzi, celebrities mingling together and you feeling entirely out of place.

momona invited you as her plus one . it was an exhilarating feeling, as a person who always strived to be an actor it was a dream come true.

what was expected but not hoped for was the curdling anxiety in your chest. you felt like you might need to find the nearest pot plant and spill your guts out.

“babe it’s okay,” momona had whispered encouragingly, tightening her grip on your hand.

she was friends with the guy who played percy jackson, you weren’t too familiar with him but momo had told you enough stories that you felt like you had known him for years.

“you were wearing this beautiful dress. i seriously thought that an angel had been sent down from heaven for the night.” walker says, his voice low and affectionate.

“you looked handsome as well,” you lean back to look in his eyes “i couldn’t believe it was the same walker who used to blow juice out of his nose.” you laugh, recalling the memory momona had told you before you met him.

walker groans “that should’ve warned you away. i can’t believe you actually liked me.”

you shook your head softly, “yeah well when we first talked i knew i was a goner.”

walker had been finding the nerve to speak to you since he watched you stroll in with momona thirty minutes ago. she had told walker that you were a very sweet, pretty girl but it didn’t compare to the real thing.

he watched as you blushed faintly every time someone complimented you, introducing yourself with that mesmerising smile dancing on your face.

but what he adored was the nervousness that you tried to hide. the fidgeting of your fingers, the slight bite of your lips when you thought no one was looking and your mannerisms.

walker wasn’t usually entranced by girls. he was hyper-focused on his love and passion—acting. but this girl, you got his attention.

it wasn’t until he saw you slip out of the room onto the balcony that he found himself following before he could help himself.

he gently closed the door after him, letting him just watch you for a moment.

your hair swayed slightly in the biting gusts as you looked out to the city that sprawled below the balcony.

“hey.” he mumbled, pushing his hair back on an attempt to get down the butterflies flying around his chest.

you turned around, your expression changing as you met his eyes.

“i remember thinking you didn’t like me.” you whisper, cupping his jaw in your hands.

he smiles “i was just too scared to talk to you.” he reveals.

you turned back around to the vast sky “hi.” you mumbled, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

“um—i’m walker. sorry we haven’t talked yet tonight.”

“don’t worry about it, i’m y/n by the way.” you say, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as you felt him move beside you.

it was silent for about a minute. normally you hated silences, they made you feel uncomfortable and you felt hurried to fill them but not in this case.

“you were really good.” you blurted out, turning to face him. “in um percy jackson. you’re a really good actor.”

he smiled, taking more pleasure in that than he should have “thanks y/n. you ever want to be an actor too?”

you nodded, your lips twitching in a smile “yeah. i really love acting, i think it’s just such a beautiful thing to delve into roles and represent their strong emotions and storytelling.”

“when you were telling me how much you loved acting that was when i fell.” walker chuckles, lacing your fingers together.

you giggle, shaking your head “i don’t believe you.”

“your eyes just lit up when you were speaking it was stunning. some people wanted to be an actor after percy jackson dropped just to be in the show but you-you just appreciated the actual magic of it.”

you hide your face in his neck, "stop."

he cups your chin, tilting it so your eyes would meet again "you really need to learn to take compliments. let me shower you with praise y/n."

"no it's embarrasing. it's not true." you protest, shaking your head.

"look at me, baby," he prompts, tilting your chin. "since the first time i saw you i knew you were special." he finishes his voice soft but sure. "and every day since then you've proven me right."

you bite your lip, warmth blooming in your chest as he gazes at you with nothing but love. "you're ridiculous..." you whisper, though the smile on your face reveals your emotion.

"and you're beautiful," he counters, his grin widening "inside and out."

"stop being so sweet, i might actually combust." you say, hiding your face in your chest.

he laughs, the sound rich and deep, "then i'll keep you together."

he pulls you tighter against him, wrapping his arms around you.

you sigh contentedly, enveloped in him-his scent, his warmth, his whole presence. nothing ever felt as good as being in his arms. "you're my favourite person." you murmur.

walker tilts your chin up again, his blue eyes twinkling "you're mine too. always."

and then he kisses you, slow and sweet, like he's savouring every second. like he's making a silent promise to love you just as fiercely tomorrow, and every day after that.

#walker scobell #walker scobell imagines #walker scobell x reader #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson

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prettyangellllll · 2 days ago

Text

Beneath the Surface

Pairing:Childhood friends Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron and (Y/N) grew up together in the small town of Figure Eight, their bond one of unspoken loyalty and fierce friendship. From childhood games to teenage years filled with secrets, their relationship has always been complicated—too close to be “just friends,” yet too messy to label. Now, as they’re on the brink of adulthood, they find themselves tangled in the web of old feelings, broken trust, and unresolved tension. Can their deep-rooted history survive the new paths they're both walking? Or will their complicated connection finally crack beneath the surface?

Warnings: Strong language, emotional manipulation, angst, unhealthy relationship dynamics, toxic tendencies, and some violence.

----

Chapter 1: Old Haunts

The sound of waves crashing against the shore was the constant soundtrack to your childhood. You had grown up on the coast of Figure Eight, a place so beautiful it almost felt unreal. White sand beaches, massive mansions scattered along the cliffs, and the smell of saltwater in the air. But beneath the glistening surface, there was always more going on—more that people didn't see.

You knew Rafe Cameron better than anyone. He was your best friend, your partner in crime. You'd spent summers running around the beach together, sneaking into each other's houses, and daring each other to do things neither of you would have had the courage to do alone. His wild, reckless behavior always pulled you in, but there was something more to it—something that wasn’t easy to put into words.

As kids, it felt natural. You two were just inseparable. It wasn’t until you were both older that things began to shift. Rafe’s anger started to show more, his tendency to snap became sharper. He was harder to understand, harder to reach. And you, well, you’d always been the one he’d turned to when things were falling apart. But over the years, the relationship had begun to feel... strained.

You hadn’t seen Rafe much over the past year. The last time you’d crossed paths, he’d been standing at the edge of the pier, looking out over the ocean like it was the only thing that could make sense of him. You hadn’t spoken much after that—he’d given you that cold stare of his, the one that made you feel like you didn’t belong, and you’d left without a word. But that was months ago.

Now, here you were again, walking along the same beach, a nervous tension building in your chest. You hadn’t expected to see him today, but as you rounded the corner, there he was, standing by the water's edge. His presence still had that same pull, the kind that both comforted and unsettled you at the same time. You could feel his eyes on you before you even said a word.

“(Y/N),” he said, his voice low, a little raspier than you remembered. He still had that same smirk, the one that used to drive you crazy in all the best ways. “Thought I might find you here.”

“Yeah,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “It's been a while, huh?”

Rafe didn’t move, just kept his eyes on you, as though he was trying to figure you out. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, a statement, not a question.

You bit your lip, avoiding his gaze. “I haven’t been avoiding you. I just... I’ve been busy.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. Life had gotten complicated. School, friends, work... everything had pulled you in different directions.

He chuckled softly, a humorless sound. “Busy,” he repeated. “Yeah, sure.”

There was an edge to his voice that made your stomach flip. Rafe had always been intense, but this was different. There was a sharpness to his words, a coldness that you hadn’t heard in years.

“I’m not going to bite, (Y/N). Unless you want me to,” he teased, stepping a little closer. His grin was mischievous, but you could see the frustration behind it.

You stepped back slightly, your heart racing. “What’s going on with you, Rafe?”

He shrugged, his jaw tightening. “Nothing. Everything. You wouldn’t understand.”

“You’ve changed,” you said quietly, finally meeting his eyes. “You used to talk to me about everything.”

His gaze darkened, and for a moment, you thought he might snap at you. But instead, he just stared at you for a long moment before his expression softened. “Maybe I’ve just stopped talking, then,” he muttered.

You didn’t know what to say to that. The silence stretched between you two like a chasm, heavy and uncomfortable.

Finally, Rafe broke the tension, stepping closer again, his eyes locking with yours in a way that made your breath catch in your throat. “We were always better at being friends when it was just the two of us,” he said, his voice suddenly quieter, more vulnerable. “Before all the... shit.”

You nodded, not sure how to respond. You didn’t want to delve into the past—didn’t want to bring up the mess you’d both created over the years. But the truth was, you missed him. Missed the old Rafe, the one who could make you laugh even when things were falling apart. The one who used to hold you when the world felt too heavy.

“So, what now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe gave you a wry smile, but there was something more to it. Something complicated, something that both terrified and intrigued you. “Now? Now we figure out what happens next.”

And just like that, everything shifted. You could feel the old spark between you two, the one that had always been there, lurking beneath the surface. You weren’t sure if it was good or bad, but one thing was certain: this was only the beginning.

Chapter 2: Tides of Change

The days following your chance encounter with Rafe passed in a blur of confusion and lingering thoughts. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw him standing by the water, looking at you with that same intensity. The way he had stepped closer, as if daring you to come closer, to trust him again.

You hadn't seen him since that day, but you felt his presence everywhere, like a shadow that never fully disappeared. It made everything feel off-kilter, your thoughts wandering to places they shouldn’t.

That evening, you found yourself standing at the edge of the same pier Rafe had been by the other day. The water was calm now, the sun dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange. You loved this place—this pier was where you and Rafe had spent countless nights growing up, talking about everything and nothing, dreaming of things bigger than this town.

It felt like the world had shifted underneath your feet, and you were left trying to catch your balance.

"Fancy seeing you here."

The voice was unmistakable—Rafe's.

You didn’t have to turn to know it was him. You’d recognize that voice anywhere, and it sent a small shiver down your spine. Without looking at him, you nodded, letting the silence stretch between you. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze just yet.

"I thought you were busy," Rafe continued, stepping closer, his voice casual but with an edge that made you stiffen.

"I was," you replied, finally turning to face him. His eyes were dark as always, the flickering amber in them reflecting the last bits of sunlight. His hair was a bit tousled, and his usual cocky smirk was present, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were too guarded, too unreadable.

"Busy avoiding me?" he teased, but there was a bite to it.

You couldn't suppress the tightness in your chest. "I’m not avoiding you, Rafe," you snapped, your voice sharper than you'd intended. "I just... I don’t know what we’re doing anymore."

Rafe raised an eyebrow, that familiar cocky expression slowly shifting into something more thoughtful, almost sad. "What do you mean by that?"

You took a deep breath, unsure of how to explain everything that had been building in you for years. "We’re not the same anymore. You’ve changed, and... so have I. I don’t know what’s real between us anymore, and I can’t pretend like it’s all fine when it’s not."

There it was. The truth, spoken out loud. You watched as his expression flickered, and for a brief moment, Rafe looked like the person you had known as a kid—the one who had always been so open, so sure. But just as quickly, he shut it down. His walls went up again, that signature smirk back on his lips.

"People change, (Y/N)," he said quietly. "Doesn't mean it’s a bad thing."

You wanted to argue, to say that it wasn’t just about change—it was about the distance that had grown between you two. But you didn't know how to explain the void, how you’d tried so many times to reach out, only to be met with silence or anger.

"You don’t get it," you whispered, your voice breaking slightly. "You’ve always been able to get under my skin, and now... it’s like we’re strangers."

Rafe was silent for a moment, his gaze never leaving yours. He stepped closer, and the air between you grew thick with tension. He wasn’t the same reckless boy you’d known, but there was still that magnetic pull you couldn’t ignore.

"I’m not a stranger," he finally said, his voice low. "Maybe you just don’t want to admit that we’re still the same. Still us."

Your heart hammered in your chest, the pull of his words too familiar, too tempting. He was right in a way—everything had changed, but at the same time, everything had stayed the same. The history between you two was too strong, too intense to let go of easily.

Before you could respond, his hand shot out, catching your wrist in a grip that was tight, but not painful. His thumb traced the back of your hand slowly, deliberately, sending a jolt of heat up your arm.

"You’re afraid of me, aren’t you?" Rafe asked, his voice softer now, as if trying to coax the truth from you.

You swallowed hard, unsure of how to answer. He was right. You were afraid—afraid of the power he had over you, afraid of what might happen if you gave in to whatever this was between you two. But more than anything, you were afraid of what would happen if you didn’t.

"You don’t make it easy, Rafe," you whispered, staring down at your feet, unable to meet his gaze. "You don’t make anything easy."

Rafe’s hand moved from your wrist to your cheek, tilting your head up so you had no choice but to look at him. His expression had softened, and for the first time in a long while, you saw something real in his eyes—something vulnerable.

"You never did like easy, (Y/N)," he muttered, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your lips. "And I don’t think you ever will."

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, urgent, desperate, as if he were trying to pull something from you that neither of you had ever been able to say. You hadn’t kissed him in years—hell, you hadn’t even thought about kissing him since you were teenagers. But now, with the taste of him so close, it felt like you were falling back into something dangerous, something that could either save you or drown you.

His hands were on you, pulling you closer, but just as quickly, you broke away, breathless, heart pounding. Your head was spinning, emotions swirling inside of you.

"I can’t," you said, your voice shaking. "This... this isn’t us anymore."

Rafe's gaze hardened, but there was no anger in it. Just a deep, simmering sadness that made your chest ache. "I don’t know what we are anymore either," he admitted softly. "But I’m not ready to let go of it. Not yet."

You didn’t know what that meant, but as you looked into his eyes, you knew that this wouldn’t be the last time your paths crossed. No matter how hard you tried to fight it, you were tangled in his web—and he knew it too.

The tide of change was inevitable. The only question was, would you sink or swim?

Chapter 3: The Pull of the Current

The days that followed felt like a fog, and everything seemed to blur together. Your mind kept returning to that kiss. You couldn’t shake it, no matter how hard you tried. The way his lips had felt against yours, the heat of his body so close to yours, the intensity that lingered even after you’d pulled away. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was something deeper, something that rattled every single piece of your being.

You kept telling yourself it was a mistake. That it wasn’t the Rafe you knew anymore. That this was just the result of years of tension, and you were both too afraid to acknowledge what was actually happening.

But you couldn't deny the pull, the way he seemed to reach inside you and bring something to the surface that you couldn’t ignore. He was still Rafe—still that boy you’d grown up with, still the one you had shared so much of your life with. But he was also someone else now—someone who was harder to read, harder to trust.

You’d spent the last few days avoiding him, hoping the distance would give you some clarity. But it wasn’t working. Every time you tried to concentrate on anything else, his face kept creeping into your thoughts, and the nagging feeling in your chest refused to settle.

That’s how you found yourself at the same pier again, staring at the water. It was late, the night air cooler now that the sun had set, and the moonlight cast a soft glow across the water’s surface. Your fingers twitched at the memory of his touch, but you refused to acknowledge it.

You were trying to figure out what to do next, trying to sort through the mess of emotions you were feeling when you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

You didn’t have to turn around to know it was Rafe. You could feel him. The air around you shifted when he entered it, as if the world itself held its breath.

“Still avoiding me?” Rafe’s voice was low, teasing, but there was an undercurrent of something darker to it, something you couldn’t quite place.

You slowly turned to face him. He was standing a few feet away, his eyes already on you, as if he’d been waiting for this moment, for you to turn and face him again. He hadn’t changed. Not really. Still the same Rafe—gruff, guarded, but there was an unspoken invitation in his gaze.

“I’m not avoiding you,” you replied, though the words didn’t feel as certain as you wanted them to.

“Yeah?” Rafe’s lips curled into that familiar smirk. “Because it sure feels like you are. You’re not answering my calls, not replying to my messages. Not even looking at me when we pass by each other. What’s going on, (Y/N)?”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry, unsure of how to explain the knot in your chest. How to explain the mixture of fear and desire that had twisted into something almost unbearable. "I just… I don't know what you want from me, Rafe."

His expression softened for a moment, and the cocky grin faded into something more serious, more calculating. "What do you think I want?"

You bit your lip, your fingers fidgeting nervously at your sides. "I don’t know. You’ve changed, Rafe. You’ve always been intense, but now it’s like I don’t even recognize you half the time. I’m trying to figure out where I fit into all of this.”

The space between you two felt charged, crackling with unspoken tension. You could see him struggling to find the right words, his brow furrowing as he took a step closer.

“I never wanted you to feel like you didn’t fit,” he muttered. “I didn’t want any of this to change. But I couldn’t stop it. I don’t know what I am anymore… what we are.”

You exhaled sharply, your chest tight with the weight of his words. You wanted to be angry with him, to say all the things you’d been holding back. But instead, you just stood there, the words stuck in your throat.

Rafe reached out, his hand grazing your cheek softly. The simple gesture sent a jolt of warmth through your skin, and you flinched slightly, though you didn’t pull away. He seemed to notice the hesitation, his eyes darkening with an intensity you couldn’t ignore.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he whispered. “But I can’t walk away from it either. From you.”

His voice cracked slightly, and for a brief moment, you saw the vulnerability behind the walls he’d built up. You’d never seen him like this before—open, raw, and unsure. It was a side of Rafe that terrified you, because it made you realize how far gone he was, how far gone you were.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Rafe continued, stepping even closer. “I was just… I don’t know, lost, I guess. But I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to fix me.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again. This time, there was no hesitation, no pulling away. It was desperate, urgent, and raw—like he couldn’t keep it in anymore. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the heat of his body against yours. You felt dizzy, your heart racing as his mouth moved against yours with a fervor that almost scared you.

But you couldn’t stop yourself. You kissed him back, the way you used to when you were younger, before the world had gotten too complicated. Before the lines between right and wrong had blurred.

You wanted to pull away, to push him off, to tell him everything that was wrong with what was happening. But the truth was, you didn’t want to. Not really. Because despite everything that had changed, there was something you couldn’t fight—something that pulled you back to him, every single time.

When you finally pulled away, both of you breathing heavily, you could barely look at him. The air between you two felt heavy, like everything had just been laid bare, and neither of you knew how to handle it.

“We can’t keep doing this,” you whispered, though even as you said it, you weren’t sure you meant it.

Rafe didn’t say anything at first, but the intensity in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

“Maybe we can,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

You didn’t know what the future held, didn’t know how this would end. But for the first time in a long while, you realized that maybe—just maybe—this was the only thing that felt real.

#rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron #rafe imagine #childhood

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littlejoyss · 3 days ago

Text

𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔬𝔬𝔫 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 1

Stray Kids - Non-Idol! Hyunjin x Reader

Twilight Inspired Fic (but major differences such as age)

Word Count (so far): 10k

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: When you move to Forks for college you run into a group of friends who are out of the ordinary.

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 1 (currently reading), 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 2, more to come!

“Mom, seriously, I’m already settled. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You sigh for what feels like the hundredth time on this phone call. Your mom is overprotective, even when you’re across the country.

“Yes, I’m sure.” You shift the phone to your other ear, staring out the window at the endless drizzle of Forks, Washington.

You were born here and lived here until you were three. That’s when your dad, Charlie, and mom, Renée, divorced. You have been living with your mother since. Sometimes you would visit Forks in the summer, but haven’t in recent years. But once your mom married Phil, her new husband, you wanted to leave their house. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Phil, but he was a major-league baseball player. So, he traveled a lot and wanted to bring your mom. So, to save trouble you moved in with your dad.

Your mom hums, unconvinced. “But are you happy, sweetheart? You can always come back, you know that. You don’t have to stay there just to make your dad feel better.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “It’s not like that. I wanted to come. For college.”

“Did you?”

“Yes, Mom.”

Another thing about your mom, she was stubborn and immature. You stayed with her for the longest time because there was no one else to take of her. Now, Phil can help clean the house and feed her. No more struggling to keep her happy.

You hear the distant sound of Phil talking in the background, something about a flight schedule. Your mom’s sigh filters through the speaker. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be there if it’s not what you really want.”

“I’m fine,” you repeat, softer this time. “It’s not sunny, and I might actually freeze, but Charlie’s trying. I’ll be okay.”

Another pause. Then, “Okay.” She doesn’t sound convinced, but she’s relenting. “Just promise me you’ll call if you need anything?”

“Of course.”

“Alright, love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

You end the call and drop your phone onto the bed. Outside, the rain continues its steady rhythm, a dull gray mist shrouding the towering evergreens. The air is damp and heavy, the kind of cold that seeps into your bones. You pull your sleeves over your hands, staring out at the familiar yet distant landscape.

This is home now.

The thought is strange. You’ve visited before, but living here is different. The house is quieter than you’re used to, filled with the scent of coffee and old paper from Charlie’s endless police reports. No laughter from your mom’s soap operas playing in the background. No constant conversation. Just the occasional creak of the floorboards and the sound of the rain.

A knock on your door breaks your thoughts.

“Hey, kiddo,” Charlie’s voice is gruff but gentle. “Everything okay?”

You turn to face him, offering a small smile. “Yeah, just Mom being... Mom.”

He nods as if that explains everything. And maybe it does.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” he says after a beat. “Figured you might be hungry.”

You hesitate. Cooking isn’t exactly Charlie’s strong suit. “What is it?”

He clears his throat. “Steak and potatoes.”

Your lips twitch. “Is that all you eat?”

He shrugs. “Gotta stick to what I know.”

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

The morning air is crisp as you slide into the truck. Charlie had insisted his old truck was reliable, though the way it groaned when you turned the key made you doubt that. You let it idle for a moment, watching the windshield wipers struggle against the fine mist of rain clinging to the glass.

Your first day of college.

It still doesn’t feel real. Moving to Forks was one thing, but starting fresh in a completely new environment? That’s something else entirely. You’ve done your research, of course. But, it was still nerve-racking.

The truck’s heater sputters before kicking in, and you take a deep breath before pulling out of the driveway.

The drive was nice. Tall evergreens lined the road, their branches dripping with rain, mist curling around the trunks like something out of a dream. The roads are slick, but you take your time. Despite the nerves twisting in your stomach, there’s something almost peaceful about the drive.

By the time you reach the college parking lot, the nerves return in full force. You pull into a spot and kill the engine, gripping the wheel for a second longer than necessary.

You can do this.

Grabbing your backpack, you step out into the damp morning air, the scent of wet pavement filling your lungs. Around you, other students hurry toward the buildings, some huddled under umbrellas, others pulling their hoods tight against the drizzle.

There it was. Forks College.

Your thoughts were cut off by a voice behind you, “Yo! You’re the Sherrif’s daughter, right?

Great.

“Yeah-”

The flash of a phone camera straddles you.

Blinking against the sudden burst of light, you take a step back, caught off guard. The guy holding the phone grins, looking way too amused with himself. He’s tall, wearing a faded hoodie and a backward baseball cap, his sneakers splattered with mud.

"Sorry, had to document this. Sheriff Swan's kid, stepping into college like a total badass," he says, tucking his phone into his pocket.

You exhale, already regretting every life choice that led you to this moment. "Right. And you are?"

"Tyler," he says easily. "My dad’s on the force with your dad. Figured I’d say hey before you got totally lost in this place."

You glance toward the looming brick building ahead, students streaming through the doors. It’s not huge, but big enough that getting lost isn’t off the table.

"That obvious?" you mutter, adjusting the strap of your bag.

Tyler smirks. "A little. First-day nerves?"

You shrug, but he doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he jerks his head toward the entrance. "C’mon, I’ll show you where the main hall is. Unless you wanna keep standing in the rain looking like you just saw a ghost."

You hesitate for a second, then fall into step beside him. It’s not like you know anyone else, and as much as you hate being recognized for your dad’s job, at least Tyler doesn’t seem annoying. Yet.

"Any idea where your first class is?" he asks as you weave through the crowd.

You pull out your schedule, glancing at the printout. "Uh… Building C. Room 204."

Tyler lets out a low whistle. "Professor Anders. Tough one. Hope you like essays."

"Perfect," you mumble.

Tyler grins. "You’ll survive. Probably."

You shoot him a look, but he just chuckles, leading the way through the crowded hallway. The air inside is warmer, filled with the scent of coffee, wet jackets, and something vaguely like old books. Students mill about, some laughing in groups, others hunched over their phones or scanning their schedules with the same lost expression you’re probably wearing.

“So, what’s your deal?” Tyler asks, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets as he guides you toward Building C. “What are you studying?”

“Uh, English,” you say, gripping your backpack strap a little tighter. “Well, technically undecided, but… probably English.”

“Cool, cool. I’m doing journalism. Figured someone’s gotta report all the exciting Forks College news.”

You arch a brow. “Is there exciting Forks College news?”

He smirks. “Not yet. But hey, if you do anything Sheriff’s Kid-worthy, I’ll make sure you get the front page.”

You groan. “Please don’t.”

Tyler just laughs, and for the first time since arriving, you feel your shoulders relax a little.

By the time you reach Building C, the hallways are thinning out as students shuffle into classrooms. Tyler stops outside the door to 204 and jerks a thumb toward it. “Here you go. Welcome to the lions’ den.”

You sigh, shifting your bag. “Thanks, I guess.”

“No problem,” he says, already taking a few steps backward. “Catch you later, Sheriff’s Kid.”

Before you can tell him to stop calling you that, he disappears down the hallway. You shake your head, then take a deep breath and step into the classroom.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

You had time before your next class that day so Tyler invited you to go to a local diner with his friends.

The diner is small, tucked between a hardware store and an old bookstore. The windows are fogged up from the warmth inside, and as you push open the door, the scent of coffee and fried food lures you in.

Tyler leads the way, his sneakers squeaking slightly on the checkered floor. A group is already gathered at a booth near the window, laughter spilling over the hum of conversation.

"Guys, this is-" Tyler pauses, turning to you. "Wait, do you prefer your actual name, or should we stick with Sheriff’s Kid?"

"You know the answer."

He grins before plopping into the booth. "Alright, alright. This is-" he says your name, waving lazily in your direction. "New recruit to Forks College. Be nice."

A girl with dark curly hair resting in a loose ponytail gives you a friendly smile. "Hey, I’m Angela." She gestures to the guy next to her, who’s busy stirring way too much sugar into his coffee. "That’s Eric. And across from him, that’s Jess."

Jess, who has been scrolling through her phone, looks up and gives you a quick once-over before nodding. "Nice to meet you," she says, sounding vaguely distracted.

You slide into the booth next to Tyler, the worn vinyl creaking beneath you.

Angela offers you the basket of fries, and you take one. "So, first day at Forks College," She says, propping her chin on her hand. "Surviving so far?"

You shrug, chewing thoughtfully. "So far, so good. No catastrophes yet."

Eric snorts. "Give it a week."

Tyler elbows him. "Come on, don't scare the newbie."

Jess finally tucks her phone away and sips her drink, eyeing you over the rim. "So, what brought you back to Forks? Thought you lived with your mom.”

"Yeah," you say, swirling your straw through your water. "She got remarried, and her husband travels a lot for work. I figured it’d be easier to move here instead of being left alone all the time."

Angela gives you a knowing smile. "That makes sense. Forks is… different, but it grows on you."

Tyler leans back, stretching his arms across the back of the booth. "And hey, at least you've got us now. We’ll make sure you don’t die of boredom."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Good to know."

The conversation flows easily from there. They fill you in on campus life, which professors are worth their office hours and which ones will drown you in readings. Tyler and Eric get into a heated debate over whether the diner’s fries are better than the ones at a food truck near campus, with Angela and Jess rolling their eyes at the familiar argument.

The bell above the door chimes softly, and an odd hush seems to ripple through the diner. You glance up instinctively, and for a second, you forget how to breathe.

Two guys step inside, shaking the rain from their jackets. There’s something almost unreal about them, like they’ve stepped out of a painting rather than from the rain.

The first one has features that are sharp and defined. His hair is dark and tousled in a way that seems both effortless and deliberate. There’s a certain elegance to him, an almost ghostly stillness in the way he surveys the room. His eyes, a strange and shifting shade, flicker across the diner until they meet an open booth, where he walks.

The second one is just as striking but in a completely different way. This one is softer and more inviting. His skin is fair, almost luminous in the diner’s dim lighting.

You aren’t the only one staring. The diner has gone subtly quieter, conversations dipping into murmurs as a few heads turn in their direction. Even Tyler and Eric, mid-argument, pause just long enough to exchange a glance.

"Who are they?" you ask, voice low.

Angela follows your gaze and sighs. "Minho and Changbin. They’re a part of The Strays."

“The Strays?” You ask

"Yeah," Tyler says, leaning in slightly. "These group of friends moved here a couple of years ago. No one really knows much about them. They kind of… keep to themselves. That’s why we call them The Strays. They all live together in a house near campus.”

The bell chimes again, and three more figures step inside You don’t need Tyler to tell you they’re part of The Strays. There’s something distinct about them.

Angela talks again, “And that’s Han, Seungmin, and Jeongin.”

As they settle into their booth, it’s like the diner resumes normal function.

"They always come here?" you ask, unable to stop watching them.

Angela shrugs. "Every now and then. Never with anyone else, though. Just them."

"They don't talk to people much," Tyler adds. "Not rude, exactly, just... distant."

Jess scoffs. "Minho’s rude."

Angela sighs. "You bumped into him once."

"Yeah, and he glared at me."

"That’s just his face," Eric offers, stirring his coffee.

You can’t help but glance at their booth again. Unlike the other customers, who chat and joke around, The Strays are quieter, their conversations low, spoken only amongst themselves.

Lastly, two more boys come rushing in. Their group of friends glares at them as they seem late. The taller one ruffles his already messy dark hair, grinning sheepishly as he slides into the booth. The other slightly shorter one just shrugs unapologetically at the glares they’re getting from their friends.

"Hyunjin and Felix," Angela murmurs before you can ask.

Hyunjin has the kind of presence that demands attention, sharp angles, and effortless grace. Even as he drops into his seat, there’s something undeniably fluid about his movements, like he doesn’t quite belong in the same stiff world as everyone else. His long hair falls in front of his face, but he doesn’t seem to mind, already deep in whatever conversation The Strays are having.

Felix, on the other hand, is different. He’s warm in a way the others aren’t, his freckled face lighting up as he says something that makes the rest of the group relax.

"They look like they belong in a damn movie," Tyler mutters, stuffing a fry into his mouth. "It’s almost annoying how cool they are."

You hum in agreement.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

A couple of days later, it was time for your first class in the morning. The rain had barely let up since you arrived in Forks. You pulled your jacket tighter around you as you stepped into the building.

The room was already half full when you walked in. Students milled around, some chatting, others scrolling through their phones. You scanned the room, looking for an empty seat, only to pause when your eyes landed on him.

Hyunjin.

He was sitting alone at the lab table near the window, fingers idly tapping against the tabletop. His long hair fell slightly over his face as he stared out at the rain-streaked glass window, lost in thought.

Something about him felt wrong. Not in a bad way, but… off. Like he was on edge. His posture was too rigid, his jaw tight. And then, as if sensing your gaze, his eyes snapped to yours.

The moment your gazes met, something in his expression shifted. You froze in place, gripping your bag strap tightly. Slowly, almost unwillingly, Hyunjin turned away.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling like you’d walked into something you weren’t supposed to.

"Hey," the teacher's voice broke through the tension. "New student?"

You nodded quickly.

"Great. You can sit there," the teacher gestured, right next to Hyunjin.

Of course.

Grounding yourself, you moved toward the empty seat beside Hyunjin. As you slid into the chair, you couldn’t help but notice the way his posture remained unnaturally stiff, his jaw clenched so tightly you thought it might crack.

Hyunjin was actively trying not to look at you.

You wanted to break the tension, “Hello?”

Then, finally, he turned his head just slightly, enough for his dark eyes to meet yours. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. There was no warmth there, just something raw, something unreadable.

“…Hi,” he said at last, but the word was clipped, barely audible.

And then, just as quickly, he turned away again, his jaw tensing like he regretted even speaking.

Okay.

You hesitated, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. Had you done something wrong? You were pretty sure you’d never seen him before, so why was he acting like you’d personally offended him just by existing?

The teacher started lecturing, and you forced yourself to focus, but it was impossible to ignore the way Hyunjin sat. He was completely rigid, angled as far away from you as he could without actually moving his chair.

And for the rest of the class, you didn’t say another word.

The second the class was dismissed he stood up and practically ran out of the room.

You barely had time to process before he was gone, disappearing through the doorway like he couldn’t escape fast enough.

"Well, that was weird," you muttered under your breath, gathering your things.

A chair scraped beside you, and when you turned, Angela was there, giving you a sympathetic look.

"Don't take it personally," she said, shouldering her bag. "Hyunjin… he’s always been like that. At least, with people outside of his group."

You frowned. "Did I do something to offend him?"

Angela shook her head. "No. That’s just how The Strays are. Especially him. Though I’ve never seen him have a physical reaction. Normally, he just ignores people.”

You glanced back toward the door as if you’d catch a glimpse of him still lingering in the hallway, but he was long gone.

The whole thing left a strange feeling in your chest, and you had no idea why.

₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

You walked into the scheduling office later that day to ask about your schedule when you saw him.

Hyunjin stood at the counter, fingers pressed against the surface like he was barely keeping himself grounded. His head was slightly bowed, his long hair obscuring most of his face.

"I need to change my schedule," he said, voice clipped.

The receptionist, an older woman with glasses perched on the end of her nose, barely looked up from her computer. "Which class?"

"First block," he said immediately.

Your stomach dropped.

The receptionist sighed. "And why do you need to change it?"

Hyunjin hesitated, his fingers curling into a fist on the counter. "It’s… not a good fit."

"Not a good fit?" she repeated, finally glancing up at him. "That’s not exactly a reason, dear. If you’re struggling, I can get you tutoring-"

"No." His voice came out sharp enough to make her pause. He exhaled, rolling his shoulders as if trying to physically shake something off. "Just… is there another class I can take instead?"

The receptionist clicked around on her computer and then shook her head. "Unfortunately, all the other sections are full. You’ll have to stick with the one you have."

For a second, he didn’t say anything. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel, only to freeze the second he saw you standing in the doorway.

His dark eyes locked onto yours, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, it looked like he might actually say something. But instead, his lips pressed into a thin line, and he pushed past you, walking out of the office without looking back.

What the hell was his problem?

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

The weather was sunny for the first time since you moved to Forks. Jess invited you to go window shopping together and enjoy the warmth. The sun cast a rare golden glow over the small town, making everything feel just a little less gloomy than usual. You were starting to get used to the constant overcast skies, but the warmth on your skin was a welcome change.

Jess looped her arm through yours as the two of you strolled down the sidewalk, peering into store windows. For someone you had met two weeks ago, she was clingy. “See? You were worried you’d hate it here, but now you’re spending a sunny afternoon shopping with me. Progress.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You act like I’ve been locked away in some dark tower.”

Jess gasped dramatically. “You have! The tower of brooding and confusion. Especially when it comes to a certain Stray”

You groaned, nudging her with your elbow. “Can we not?”

“Oh, come on,” she teased, tugging you toward a boutique window. “You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little curious about why he acted like you were some kind of-” she waved her hand vaguely, “-cursed object in that classroom.”

You sighed, avoiding her gaze as you pretended to be interested in a display of jewelry. “I mean… yeah, it was weird. But it’s not like I can do anything about it. If he doesn’t want to talk to me, I’m not going to chase him down for answers.”

Jess huffed. “That’s boring. I would.”

You gave her a look.

She grinned unapologetically, “He is kind of hot.”

“You’ve got it bad, huh?”

“I mean, can you blame me? He’s got that mysterious vibe.”

You rolled your eyes again, though you couldn’t quite shake the thought of Hyunjin. It was impossible not to wonder why he’d reacted the way he did in class, but chasing him down for answers felt... wrong. You barely knew the guy.

“So,” Jess continued, clearly not done with the topic, “what’s your type, then?”

You laughed. “You’re really going to make me answer that?”

She grinned. “I just wanna know if I’m totally off base with my matchmaking attempts. You’ve gotta have some sort of ‘type,’ right?”

You paused, thinking for a moment. “I don’t know. I mean, I guess it’s less about looks and more about someone who doesn’t make me feel like I’m walking on eggshells.”

Jess snorted. “So not Hyunjin, then.”

“Exactly.”

She sighed dramatically, pushing open the door to a nearby shop. “Well, I tried. Come on, let’s actually buy something. There’s gotta be something here that’ll make this trip worth it.”

The shop was a bookstore. Clearly Jess didn’t know this before opening the door. She froze in the doorway, blinking at the rows of bookshelves as they had personally offended her.

“Oh,” she muttered, visibly deflating. “Well, this is not what I expected.”

You bit back a laugh. “What, disappointed they don’t sell designer handbags?”

Jess sighed dramatically, stepping inside anyway. “I mean, yes, but we’re here now, so we might as well look around.”

You smiled, running your fingers over the spines of the books as you wandered further in. The store smelled like paper and ink. It was quiet except for the soft sound of pages turning and the occasional murmur from the cashier at the front desk.

Jess followed you reluctantly, dragging her fingers over a display table of hardcover books. “So, you’re one of those people, huh?”

You raised an eyebrow. “One of what people?”

She smirked. “The kind that actually enjoys reading.”

You gasped in mock offense. “I’ll have you know books are great company.”

Jess made a face. “I prefer company that actually talks back.”

Then, a deeper voice spoke behind you too, “Books can talk. Audiobooks.”

You froze mid-turn, the voice hitting you like a memory brought back to life. It was teasing with a familiar lilt that sent you straight back to childhood.

Slowly, you turned the rest of the way, and there he was.

Bang Chan.

He stood just a few feet away, arms crossed, a lazy smirk on his face. He looked older, obviously, his features sharper, his frame broader. But the glint in his eyes was the same.

“Chan?” you breathed, barely believing it.

His smirk widened into a grin. “Took you long enough.”

Jess glanced between you two, brows raised. “Uh, hello? Someone wanna fill me in?”

You let out a breathless laugh, still caught in the disbelief of seeing him here now. “Jess, this is Chan. We grew up together. Our dads are friends.”

Chan’s grin didn’t falter. “More like she followed me around like a lost puppy.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving his arm lightly. “You wish.”

Jess watched the exchange with growing interest. “Huh. So this is the childhood bestie. Why haven’t you mentioned him before?”

You hesitated. It wasn’t that you’d forgotten about Chan, but life had pulled you in different directions. You had stopped coming to Forks in the summer when you were thirteen. You assumed the distance had settled between you for good. But now, standing here, it felt like no time had passed at all.

Chan didn’t seem bothered by the question. He just shrugged, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “It’s been a while, that’s all.”

You nodded, still unable to fully believe he was here. “Are you going to college here?

He shook his head, “No. I took a gap year to help out the family.” That explained why you hadn’t run into him sooner.

Jess, sensing the shift in mood, clapped her hands together. “Okay, well, I suddenly feel like the third wheel in a heartfelt reunion, so I’m gonna go pretend to care about books elsewhere.” She shot you a knowing look before wandering off toward the back of the store.

Chan watched her go, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “She’s got good instincts.”

You snorted. “She probably thinks you’re my long-lost soulmate or something.”

“Am I?”

“Don’t start.”

His laughter was warm, familiar. It was strange. It felt like no time had passed at all. But at the same time, everything felt different. He wasn’t the same boy you used to know. He had definitely grown some muscle.

You tilted your head. “So, what exactly are you doing with the family? Besides, you know, ‘helping out.’”

Bang Chan has a BIG family. All of them lived in cabins near La Push. You remember making sand castles with him on the beach.

Chan hesitated for just a fraction of a second before answering. “Just… community stuff. Helping my dad, looking out for people.”

You narrowed your eyes. “That’s vague.”

He grinned. “It’s a vague job.”

You weren’t buying it. There was something he wasn’t saying, but before you could press, he nodded toward the door.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go grab something to eat. We need to catch up.”

“Fine. Jess was getting bored anyway. I’ll go tell her.” you said, sighing dramatically. “But you’re buying.”

Chan laughed. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

#stray kids #skz #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #kpop #fanfic #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #skz x you #skz x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #kpop fanfic

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howlett-dekarios · 17 hours ago

Text

𝚂𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕

▏Trilogy!Logan Howlett x Reader

▏Summary: Though reader and Logan have been in a relationship for some time now, she's avoiding sleeping with him in the same bed, or rather waking up next to him. He had to find out way and help her with accepting her beauty.

▏Word count: 1,7k

▏A/n: It's some sort of self therapy because I had been dealing with acne myself for years and still have my battle marks. Now I got pretty used to and accept it but some days it still gets me, so I thought that the idea of Logan comforting reader is a perfect way of self made medication for it. I hope that it'll be useful for anyone here and help you guys with accepting your own 'imperfections'. Remember you're beautiful no matter what!

You’ve been dating Logan for almost a month now. And it was the best month of your entire life; all the small gestures, amazing sex, sweet cuddling and late night talks. You were so sure about him being the one. Rough on the outside and so damn gentle and full of love inside.

There was one particular barrier that you haven’t been comfortable crossing yet though. No matter how tired you had been after him fucking you senseless, or how late you’ve finished your chats, you always came back to your own room. A few times he had asked what’s wrong or why are you so reluctant on staying with him in bed, always coming with some lame excuse.

It wasn’t about him. Shit, you would’ve been more than okay, love waking up on his chest, his scent in your nostrils and his heavy, deep sleepy voice first thing you hear in the morning.

But you couldn’t. No matter how long Logan begged you to just stay, you weren’t able to bring yourself to do it. Because it would mean he would’ve seen your true face, without any make up on.

After dealing with acne your whole life, testing every diet, skin care product and other home methods year ago you’d decided to consult you issue with dermatologist which resulted in what you’ve feared most; being prescribed a strong and very invasive meds that messed with your hormones. Aside from your doc reminding you every single time not to get pregnant, which wasn’t really a problem since you’ve been on pills, you weren’t allowed to get any piercings or tattoos, your skin was so dry and your lips were cracking every three days no matter how often you moisturize them.

But back then you’d been determined, saying to yourself how it all will be worth it in the future. How finally you gonna have a clean and healthy skin, how you’ll be more confident and visually appealing.

Now, a few months after ending your treatment, you knew how big of a bullshit it all was. Pathetic lies just to keep going. Near the end of therapy, you seen how it all looked like. Yes, the pimples and other stuff were gone and not showing up again, your cheeks smooth under the fingers. But it wasn’t the effect you thought and prayed for. Instead, you were left with darker scars which were still visible sometimes even with your foundation on if you weren’t putting extra green concealer under it. You obviously asked the doctor about it, but her only reply was indifference and shake of arms. She said straight to your face how it was rather a common thing and the only way of getting rid of it was some laser treatment. You honestly felt like crying then.

“Stay, princess.” Logan groaned, his head laying on your naked chest, cooling down from emptying his balls inside you seconds ago.

Every single time you’d left after sex with him, he felt like an absolute asshole, not providing any sort of aftercare. Not being able to make sure of you being fine, of him not pushing you too far. At this point he would do anything for you to spend the night. To let him cuddle and make you feel safe and love. Hug you from behind while you could be a little spoon, your back glued to his chest, Logan’s nose deep in your hair, smelling you sweet scent.

He knew you loved him, but sometimes it felt more like some sort of friends with benefits deal than an actual relationship.

“I can’t, babe. I need to remove makeup and clean my face.”

“You can do it here. Just bring your things here already and stay forever.”

“I can’t-“

“Why not, baby? You know that my bed is much more comfortable than yours.”

Such a stupid argument but it was truth nonetheless. Because of Logan’s past and his nightmares Charles made sure to provide as good conditions as possible, not to make it even harder for Howlett.

“It’s not that I don’t want to-“

“Then what? You’re snoring?” Before you could’ve opened your mouth he quickly added. “No, you’re not. You napped on me too often for me not to realize.” Even before your relationship, when you two had been just friends there were situations when you were exhausted after the mission and him giving his arm for you to lay on. “Than what is it, darlin’? You’re a true princess who’s transforming to a monster by night?” It was a mere joke but shit, your reaction gave him enough insight to realize how close he hit. “Hey, look at me, beauty.” His big hand cupped your cheek, forcing you gently to look in his eyes. “You can tell me whatever it is, okay? I won’t judge.”

“You can’t see me without makeup.” Your voice was barely heard.

“What?” He laughed trying to sense your joke. “Of course I’ve seen you-“ But then he stopped himself.

Now when you brought it up, he couldn’t recall any situation when he has seen you like that. No matter if it was a party, regular day or a mission, you’ve always been wearing it. Even when Chuck called the team meeting in the middle of the night, your lashes were covered by mascara, foundation all over your face which was contoured by bronzer and blush. Most times it was a very delicate one, which planted already so deep in his mind that his brain was honestly surprised hearing you admit it. Of course he wasn’t any sort of idiot to think you were naturally born with glitter on your face but.. Logan never realized he has never truly seen your face.

“Is that really the reason why are we sleeping in separate rooms? Because you don’t want me to see you like that?” He genuinely needed to know and seeing you nod made something inside of him die. A thought if the most beautiful and kind woman on the entire planet seeing herself as not enough, not worthy to be seen in her pure charm, sting deepy in his heart. “Why?”

“Because I’m not that pretty. I’m not looking like you think I am.”

“Bullshit.” Logan had enough of it and a bright idea came to his mind. “Wait here for me, princess.”

After a few minutes of him rumbling around you room, searching for your skin care product, he came back with a small bottle of micellar water cosmetic pads. It immediately clicked in your mind what he wanted to do with them.

“Logan, no! You can’t-“

He only shushed you with a gentle kiss and small reassuring smile.

“I want to see you, princess. Wanna feel your face.” His eyes looking for consent in yours.

“O-okay.” You stammered, closing your eyes, not wanting to see his reaction. Too afraid that he will not want you after seeing how you truly looked like under all the foundation and layers of concealer.

His hands despite their size and the fact of adamantium inside of his skin were so gentle. As if Logan was afraid of even touching you because of how he could’ve ruin something, break you in any way.

Soon enough you felt the nice feeling of freshness all around the face, it being hydrate and probably all shiny, only enhancing the marks on it.

“Darlin’ open your eyes for me. Please.” There was no way you could’ve denied his pleading tone. His eyes were full of admiration and pure adoration. Like he was facing the most perfect piece of art he has ever seen. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“You don’t need to lie, Lo… I know how it looks like…” You’ve been looking in the mirror every single morning.

“How? Absolutely stunning and like the prettiest face I’ve ever land my eyes on? Because it sure as hell looks like it to me, darling.”

By this point you were on verge of tears, hearing him say such stuff.

“But the scars…”

“My love.” A bunch of kisses had been planted on your knuckles, then both yours and his hands were brought to cup your cheeks. “These ones? They’re the badges of honor. Orders for your fight, proof of how freaking strong you are. For you, they can be just scars, but for me, they are mark of you history. Showing how far you’ve gone to fight for yourself. They make you even more pretty. And fuck I can’t get enough of seeing you like this.” Natural, your expression and face features not hidden under any covering. “Besides do you expect ladybug to hide her dots? It’s the same as with these stretch marks of yours which are absolutely driving me crazy whenever I see them.” Oh yes, you damn well knew how he adored it. The first time he had seen you naked, Logan made sure to pay them enough attention for you to realize that your complex is one of his turn-ons. “You can’t be mad at tiger for proudly showing off its stripes.”

“Lo-“

“I’m not done. I love you Y/n with or without makeup. Your body is a treasure for me to devour and protect by all costs, you understand?”

Tears rolled down your face and you hidden yourself in the pit of his collarbone. His lips gently brushing against your hair, caressing them with small kisses.

“Thank you.” You squealed quietly, and he moved your head to face him again, giving your forehead a peck.

“No need to, princess. Any time, I’m here for you.” He brushed the small paths with his thumbs, acknowledging how smooth your skin was there. “So what now? You staying’ here or there is another thing I should know about?” A small chuckle left you and it was the best sound he had heard this night, even considering all the moans and whimpers he had gotten out of you before. “That’s it, baby. Come here, so I can finally hold you right.”

For him it was definitely one of the best sleep he has had for a long time now.

As for you? Being able to hear his sleepy groans and small nothings by the morning were enough reason to stay in this room forever.

▏If you wanna join my Logan's fics taglist check this post.

@california-boys-and-sun @r-oseie

#logan howlett #wolverine x reader #james logan howlett #logan howlet x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine #wolverine x you #x men #xmen logan

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spookyscarydemonbabe · 2 days ago

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Lesson Learned

A/N- I wanted to do a little bit of a different take on his character, so i apologize if he seems a little ooc. He’s aged up in this story to being in his mid-20’s, i saw @cannibalvampir3’s drawing of him and i just… i need him biblically, he’s such a fucking loser 🙃 also, im a bit rusty when it comes to writing smut (like it’s been well over a year since i’ve written a full smut fic ESPECIALLY one of this length) so please give me some grace if it’s not absolutely amazing 🖤 this was the product on nonstop writing over the course of about 3 weeks so i hope you enjoy 💋

Summary- Once a week you’d come over to the Dickey residence to tutor Jane, and it would normally pass by without any interruptions. Unless her sad excuse of a brother decided to make an appearance. You try so hard to ignore him, but after an incident with a lost wallet you can’t help but want to make sure he knows where his place is. Although you haven’t decided if it’s beneath you, or on top of you.

Genre- Smut, 18+ content below the cut so minors be warned

Warnings- Reader has female anatomy, no use of (y/n), Bill has been aged up to his mid-20’s, mentions of drug use (marijuana), mentions masturbation (m + f), hair pulling, consent checks, tongue kissing, breast play, nipple sucking, panty sniffing, oral sex (m + f), handjob, p in v sex, missionary, loss of virginity (m), starts as hatefucking but turns into passionate lovemaking

Tag List- No tag list yet! Let me know if you’d like to be added 💋

Word Count- 14.3k

You looked up at that same beige front door you had to walk through every week, and sighed. Long. Your fingers moved up to massage your temples, just hoping that you wouldn’t leave with another migraine. Maybe this time he’d keep himself confined to the basement.

It had only been a few weeks since you’d started tutoring Jane for her English classes, and she was an excellent tutee. She was picking up on things so much easier whenever you explained them to her, her grades were improving drastically, and she had even gained more confidence with her own creative writing in her free time. The few short stories she had shown you were incredible for a high school sophomore. She was interesting and kind, someone so unique with her interests and she had quite the knack for making elaborate twists in her short stories. She was a very bright girl who you knew would strive for greatness.

It was her foul excuse of a brother that made you want to tear your hair out after every single session. You had no idea how someone as old as him managed to still be stuck in such a childish mindset.

Every time you came over he managed to get under your skin. You so badly wanted to snap at him, make him feel like the scum he is.

Every time he sauntered into the kitchen during your tutoring sessions in his dirty pajama pants, reeking of weed, sweat and no doubt whatever dried remains of himself he was too lazy to clean off. Every time you could sense his eyes on you whenever he wandered back and forth from his bedroom to the basement because he just so happened to remember he needed to reorganize his comics at that specific time. Every time you walked past his bedroom or the basement door and could overhear the overacted moans and groans coming from the girls on his computer screen, and eventually hearing one final whine of bliss from him. It happened so often, he had to have known you were there listening, you were so certain of it.

It was so infuriating.

Especially when you drove home after a long day of school and work, just ready to relax and indulge yourself in a little me time. Horror movie, a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, maybe an edible and of course a bit of stress relief…

Those seven inches of silicone in your bedside drawer felt so much more realistic when using your imagination. And every fucking time, whether you liked it or not, he’d be there in the back of your mind.

Christian Bale, the cute guy that works at the car wash, Bill. Heath Ledger, the hot librarian that smiles whenever you make a return, BILL. Brad Pitt, that one substitute teacher from senior year, BILL. Hayden Christensen, the guy from the mall food court that always gave you his discount, BILL. He was like a parasite that you couldn’t find the remedy for.

And fuck him for making you curious about the real thing whenever you saw him.

Whether you wanted it to happen or not, those thoughts arose from every little thing when he was around. Thinking about all those times you pictured your legs wrapped around his waist, his face contorted with pure bliss, his glasses nearly falling off from how fast he’s pounding into you. It’s like torture whenever he wanders into the kitchen and you can see the faintest bit of his torso and the trail of hair that moves from his bellybutton down to the waistband of whatever sweats he’s been wearing for who knows how long when he reaches to get a glass from the cupboard.

You clenched your eyes shut, shaking your head, trying to get whatever remnants of those thoughts out of the back of your mind. It wasn’t going to happen today.

You were so sure of that.

With one last deep breath, you reached over and grabbed your backpack from the passenger seat, pulling your keys from the ignition and putting them into the side pocket. You shut the car door and as you looked back up the driveway, it felt like you were being watched. You knew it was him, glaring at you from behind the dark throw blankets he used as makeshift curtains on the basement windows. Not even a full thirty seconds out of the car, and that pit of anger in your stomach started to bubble. He was terrible at trying to be secretive.

The back of your knuckles rapped gently on the front door, and a smile spread on your lips as Jane opened the door for you.

“Hey!” She said with a smile, stepping aside to let you in.

“Hey, how’s class been?” You asked as you stepped inside, walking into the dining room and setting your bag down onto one of the extra empty wooden chairs.

“Really good, actually! I got a 75% on that test I was telling you about, but I got a 90% on a surprise writing prompt.”

“That’s awesome! Did you get the test back? Maybe we can go over some of the things you missed?”

“Yeah, let me find it.”

Jane sat next to you at the table, pulling out the folder and a few notebooks she used for English class. As she was looking for her test you took it upon yourself to take out a notebook and a few various colored pens.

“So what did you write about for that prompt?” You asked as you were organizing your things on the table.

“Our teacher told us we could write anything, as long as it went along with one of the examples he gave us. I chose ‘Life or Death’, and I wrote about this guy whose wife died but he keeps going on as if she’s still there with him.”

“That sounds really cool! What was the twist you added? I know you can’t write a story without a good twist.”

“Yeah, I had him end up being her killer and he kept acting like she was there out of regret.”

“Wow, that’s a little dark, but I’d read it!”

Your friendly banter was interrupted by a snort coming from the other room. Of course he’d be there listening.

Bill had snuck his way into the kitchen, rifling through the pantry for what you could only assume was his second bag of chips for the day, and you could see the grin on his lips as soon as you turned to look at him.

“Yeah, so dark.” He said sarcastically to himself, rolling his eyes and trying to stifle a laugh.

“Shut up and get back to the basement, creep!” Jane shouted at him.

Bill made sure to take his time, looking back over to you and giving you a wink and a smirk before retreating back into the basement with the bag of chips in hand. You shot him a dirty look and quickly went back to trying to focus on Janes work instead of him.

“Sorry, you know how he gets.” Jane apologized, pulling her test out for you to look over as you made sure to listen for the basement door closing.

“It’s alright. Sorry you’ve got to live with him, seeing him once a week is all I can take…”

“I’m pretty used to it by now.” Jane shrugged, “Just ignore him, like always. I found that test.”

“Right! Let’s take a look…” Your eyes scanned the paper, looking over the few questions with the red marks next to them, “It looks like you’re really only having an issue with figurative language. I was the same way, I really only remembered similes and metaphors, but the other ones took a bit.”

“I’ve been trying to work on memorizing them, but for some reason they’re just not sticking…”

“That’s ok! That’s what I’m here for,” You opened up one of your notebooks and grabbed a pencil, “grab your notes from class, let’s look over it really quick.”

The next hour that followed went by without any interruptions, surprisingly. Jane was able to memorize everything for her next quiz, and she even let you read the short story from class to get some constructive criticism. She really had talent. Bill managed to keep himself quiet, for the most part. Save for a few times you heard him screaming at whatever video game he was playing on his monitor down in the basement.

“Let me know how that quiz goes next week.” You said to Jane as you finished placing the last of your notebooks into your backpack.

“I will! I’ll go over those notes again on my break at work today, I think the last of my homework shouldn’t take long after.” Jane stuck her notebook under her arm as you made your way to the front door, Jane grabbing her keys from the little bowl on the counter, you taking yours out from the side pocket.

“I’ll see you next week.” Jane said as she jogged over to her car parked on the street.

“Bye Jane! I hope work goes by fast.” You laughed, unlocking your car door.

“Thanks, me too.” She smiled, giving you one last wave before stepping into her car and heading off to work. It was so bizarre, seeing how well put together she was, and then to have an older brother that was so dull, so negligent to any kind of responsibility offered to him. You were grateful you only had to deal with him once today.

You couldn’t handle having those obscene, pornographic thoughts wriggle their way back into your mind.

At least it was over until next week, and you had the rest of the night to yourself. A movie sounded nice right about now, and maybe a few extra snacks were needed just in case the munchies hit again. As far as you remembered, there was still one last half of the joint your roommate gave you, and you didn’t want it to go to waste.

You reached over into your backpack and rummaged through the front pocket for your wallet, the same place it always went, and yet you couldn’t feel the faux leather against your fingers. Strange. The only other place it could’ve been in was the main pocket, but even then it was nowhere to be found.

“Come on…” You whispered to yourself as you tore through the bag, pulling every last notebook and pencil out to look for it, even going as far as adjusting your seats again to see if maybe it slipped through a crack somewhere, and still, nothing. You looked back up to that beige door and breathed slow, knowing that the only other place it could be was inside.

With him.

“God fucking dammit…” You said through gritted teeth, quickly opening the car door and slamming it shut as you made your way back up the steps. All that was on your mind was how quickly you wanted this to be over with.

Being around him with Jane wasn’t anything out of the norm, but you had never been alone with him.

Why would anyone want to be alone with him?

You sighed once more and knocked on the door, crossing your arms and waiting for a moment before it opened, Bill standing there with a cocky smirk on his face, his bloodshot eyes moving up and down over you, “Miss me?” He asked with his arms crossed, leaning on the doorframe.

You weren’t going to bother entertaining him with a response to that.

“I can’t find my wallet, can I look and see if it fell out of my bag in your dining room?”

He said nothing, but moved aside for you to step in.

You could smell the weed on him already, but shockingly that was the only thing you caught on him. Usually there would be undertones of sweat or him trying to mask the fact that he hadn’t showered in days by marinating himself in whatever body spray he found on the dresser, but his natural musk wasn’t all bad. It was odd, but not unwanted. He was in need of a shower anyways, it was certainly a rare occasion for him according to Jane.

You stepped around him, heading straight into the dining room and checking beneath the chair your bag was on. You waltzed around the table slowly, looking all over the rug beneath the table for it, but you couldn’t find anything resembling the black leather wallet. As you got onto your knees to check if it had fallen underneath the table, you sensed his hazel eyes on you once more, and glanced over to see him in the same stance he was in at the door.

His arms crossed, leaning on the wall, a shit eating grin on his lips and his eyes glued onto your ass as you stayed bent over in front of him. That pool of anger in your stomach started to boil.

“You know, you could help?” You glared up at him, annoyed.

“I could.” Bill shrugged, reaching his hand up to scratch at the patchy facial hair he had refused to keep up with, “I like the view better though.”

“You’re a pig.” You scowled at him, getting up from your position on the floor, “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” He scoffed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh please,” You rolled your eyes, arms crossed over your chest as you stood before him, “you know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m here once a week, you’ve never bothered trying to have any kind of conversation with me, but somehow you manage to always find a way to piss me off.”

Bill smirked, looking down at the floor to try and stifle his laugh.

“Is this funny to you?” Your words were dripping with aggravation, and you knew that you should quit before it’s too late. He didn’t deserve your time. “Whatever, I don’t need your help…” You turned back to the table with another eye roll. Just feeling his presence there behind you was enough to make you snap, but god forbid you really did lose your wallet there. There’s no fucking way you’d give him access to your address, let alone your money with his bullshit spending habits.

“…Fucking loser.” You said under your breath. You just couldn’t help yourself.

Bills smirk dropped as soon as he heard you.

“What did you just say?”

The adrenaline pumped in your chest as soon as you gleaned from his tone that those two simple words got him so pissed he couldn’t end this without getting the last word. You wouldn’t let him get that satisfaction.

“Well if you heard me, then you heard that I didn’t stutter.” You turned back to face him, taking a step closer, “I said. You’re a FUCKING loser.”

How dare you challenge him like this. Girls don’t talk to Bill, let alone challenge his masculinity by telling him what he knew he really was. And it pissed him off even more when hearing those venomous words leave your lips it made the blood rush to his groin.

He took a step closer to you, trying his hardest not to show you that you were getting to him, but he was making it so obvious it was hard to not want to fuck with him.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s it?” You scoffed, not even trying to hold back your laughter, “You’re not even denying it, you know you’re a loser too, don’t you?”

He was seething, his face red, fists clenched as he kept them crossed tightly across his chest, and having to hold back from getting hard right then and there only made it so much worse.

Bill had only been challenged by the guys before, and that was one of the only major constants he knew he could handle. What he couldn’t handle, was change. He couldn’t handle the fact that he knew you were right and somehow he knew he deserved it. There was something in the way you said it that just clicked. It was true, you were right, and the fact that you looked so good doing it made him want you to tell him again.

“I’m not a loser.”

“Sure you are.” You took another step forward, peering into his eyes through his dirty frames, “And everyone knows it.”

Bill exhaled hard through his nose, quickly uncrossing his arms and reaching into the pocket of the oversized zip up he had slumped over his shoulders, pulling out your wallet.

“You want your fucking wallet?” He took a step back and threw it into the living room, “Go get it then, bitch. And then get the fuck out of my house.”

“I knew you had it you fucking asshole!”

You shoved him hard against the wall after it, though you didn’t expect it to bounce so far, and you certainly didn’t expect it to fall down the basement stairs. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” As you stopped to go down the stairs after it, you were appalled by the absolute mess of the place.

Dirty clothes all across the floor, empty soda and energy drink cans scattered over the various shelves and desks, garbage can overflowing with an excessive amount of tissues, the pullout bed on the couch looked to be the cleanest thing and even that was a mess. Thankfully it looked to only be covered with various comics and video game controllers, but the floor around it was covered in various tapes and their cardboard sleeves and wires from the game systems all set out in front of the TV.

As your eyes scanned the floor, you couldn’t spot the small leather square amidst the clutter. It was so close to being over, but now he was making this so much more infuriating than you anticipated, and right now all you wanted was for it to be over with.

You stomped back over to Bill, who was still rubbing his arm from when he hit the wall, and reached your hand up into his greasy russet locks and grabbed a fistful, yanking him over to the basement door.

“What the fuck?! Let go of me, crazy bitch!” Bill fought to get free from your hand, though it didn’t feel like he was fighting all that hard. He had at least a few inches on you, and yet he seemed so small when you pushed him around.

“Now you’re going to help me fucking look for it, asshole!” You nearly threw him down the stairs as you let go of his hair, wiping your hand on your shirt to get rid of the oily residue.

“Cunt…” Bill said under his breath, rubbing the back of his head as he looked over the ground, kicking away the trash and clothes scattering the floor.

“Shut up and look for it.” You groaned, taking the last steps down into the basement, not being able to help looking all over the walls at the various stacks of comics and tapes, along with the different pieces of horror and fantasy memorabilia, “Christ, is your room like this too? Don’t you ever clean up after yourself?”

“Well it’s my basement, so I can do whatever I want with it.” He replied, not even bothering to look up from the floor as he kept kicking around the junk in his way.

“Oh please, you’re lucky your mom hasn’t kicked you out yet with you leaving all this junk down here.”

“It’s not junk!” Bill yelled, finally turning around to look at you. You didn’t even flinch when he took a step forward, your arms crossed over your chest.

“What would you call it then? You don’t even take care of this stuff, those shelves are covered in dust and your comics and tapes are thrown all over the place, I thought nerds like you worshipped that shit?”

“Stop calling me shit like that…”

“Well, if you tried a little harder to be normal, I wouldn’t have to call you shit like that.”

“Fuck you!” Bill stepped forward again, trying so hard to intimidate you, but even he knew he had no idea what he was doing, “You don’t know me.”

“Oh, I know more about you thank you think I do. Bill Dickey, the 20-something loser that still lives with his mommy, spending all her money on your bullshit toys because you still can’t get a job, doing nothing but smoking weed and watching porn because christ knows you’ve never gotten close to getting your dick wet… I bet you haven’t even kissed a girl yet, and you’re how old?”

“Shut the fuck up!” He yelled, his face only inches away from yours as you scowled at one another.

He hated you so fucking much, and the fact that he knew everything you said was true only made the fire inside him burn brighter. You were right. He was a loser, he still lived with his mother, no job, never had a girlfriend, let alone have a girl be alone with him for as long as you have. He was done letting you push him around, or at least he thought he was.

“Make me, nerd.”

That was it. The one final twig thrown onto the fire that made him explode with rage, and you were the one unlucky recipient that got caught in the flames. He didn’t know what came over him then, he wanted to reach his hand out and slap you for daring to speak to him that way, but with one swift motion he grabbed your collar and pulled you close, closing the space between you as he pushed his lips onto yours.

You let out a surprised yelp as he yanked you towards him, and as his lips crashed into yours you had come to the very sudden realization that it wasn’t as repulsive as you expected it to be. His lips were dry, and he tasted of chapstick and a bit of citrus from whatever energy drink he happened to chug while he was down in the basement. But still, somehow the feeling of having him so close, your lips pressed together in a heated moment of hatred, just felt so right.

It was so strange.

With the sudden realization of your surroundings, your hand reached back up into his greasy hair and yanked him back again, tearing his lips away from yours, “What the fuck?!”

“What? You said ‘make me’ so I did,” He said so matter of factly with a smirk on his face, “and you didn’t hate it either. If you didn’t want it, you wouldn’t have let me.”

He was right. You did let him.

You let him kiss you, and god help you, but you liked it.

And fuck him for making you want that aching feeling back between your thighs.

“I’ll fucking kill you…” You pushed him back hard enough for him to almost trip over the dirty clothes on the basement floor, but all he could do was laugh as you stepped closer to push him again, “Who the fuck do you think you are?!”

“I know exactly who I am, and you know too.” Even with you fuming before him, ready to clench your fist and punch him right where he deserved it, he still couldn’t help himself from being the asshole he was, “I’m the pathetic loser that everyone hates, and you just let me kiss you. And you liked it. Who’s pathetic now?”

Everything he said was true. He was pathetic, he was disgusting, he was a foul excuse of a human being, and there was some little part of you that wanted him so badly you couldn’t hide it even when you wanted to.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“You know what? No.” Bill stood tall over you, stepping forward from where you pushed him back to lean over you with a smirk on his lips, “How about you make me shut up, bitch?”

With one final shove, Bills legs gave in as they hit the end of the pullout bed, falling back against it and propping himself up on his elbows.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” You stood over him, hands on your hips, “Don’t think you’ve got something to hold over me just because i let you kiss me,” Another step closer and you would be in his lap, “I saw how hard you were trying to keep yourself from letting all the blood rush to your dick upstairs, you like being called a loser, and you know it.” The waves of emotion were starting to consume you. The tension was only making it more fun. “So I guess we’re both pretty pathetic…”

You climbed over him, your knees gently sinking into the cheap mattress as your hands quickly grasped his cheeks, pulling his lips back into yours. And this time he reciprocated.

You could tell that this was all so foreign to him, especially when you felt him start to harden in his sweatpants as you pushed your body into his. But he’d never admit that this was all new to him. Why stop a good thing?

As his arms gave in, he laid himself back onto the mattress, a gentle groan leaving his lips as his hands moved to hold onto your hips. The aggression you were holding inside for so long was finally able to be released, and without thinking your hips ground into him, smiling against his lips as you heard him try so hard to stifle the moan stuck in his throat.

He was right where you wanted him.

You pulled back ever so slightly, and you couldn’t help but giggle watching the way he leaned his head to keep your lips on his just a little longer. It took a moment to catch your breath after the intensity of your lips attacking one another, and all you could do was stare at him.

“What now?” Bill asked you.

You both knew exactly what you wanted, you couldn’t deny your bodies’ natural animalistic instincts, but to be giving into those feelings with each other is what got you so caught up. You didn’t like him, but you didn’t hate him either. And though he wanted to hate you still, something deep down inside was telling him that he couldn’t. Not like this.

“I don’t know…” You shrugged, one hand still gently cupping his cheek, “We could… Have you?…” The words were so clear in your brain but there was some kind of disconnect when it came to saying them. You knew he was a virgin, everything about him told you that, but were you really about to fuck him just to get it over with? Just to satisfy that itch that so many other boys in the past couldn’t scratch?

Bills eyes looked away from you, and as he shook his head you could see a mixture of anger and fear on his face.

You both knew you wanted it, and you wanted it bad, but there was that lingering feeling of hatred for one another still in the air mixed with the heavy air of lust and want for each other. You didn’t know if you hated each other, or if you hated yourselves for wanting each other.

“It’s up to you, I guess…” His eyes found yours once more, “But if we do, don’t think it means I like you.”

“And don’t think me doing this for you means I like you.” As you kept your position, straddled in his lap, you kicked your shoes off onto the floor, “Look. I’ll do you this one favor, but you have to do something for me too. I’m not just going to let you fuck me and not get anything in return.”

You felt him twitch between your legs, and the friction of the fabric between you wasn’t making it any better.

“Fine, like what?” He groaned.

“I’ll let you know when it’s over.” With one swift motion you quickly turned over onto your back, laid out on the dirty mattress, pushing aside the few comic books and tape sleeves still mixed up over the blanket and pulling Bill on top of you.

He sat up on his knees and looked down, smiling at the state you were in. Eyes glazed over with lust, cheeks tinted pink, and looking at you laid beneath him was a sight he never thought he’d see.

“Fuck it.” Bill growled, nearly tearing the oversized zip up off of his arms, throwing it onto the floor to be lost with the other various clothing items he couldn’t be bothered to wash.

He leaned himself back down over you, elbows next to your head as he pushed his lips back onto yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, keeping him held close as if he was going to tear himself away from you at any second.

As new as he was to it, Bill wasn’t a bad kisser. A little messy, and he certainly didn’t know when to stop himself, but he had wanted this for so long you were certain he was just happy to finally get these firsts done. For a twenty-something year old virgin, he was a good kisser. And you wanted more.

With each slow movement of your lips, you inched the tip of your tongue closer and closer to moving with them, and you could sense him tense as soon as he felt it against his lips. But he wasn’t going to deny you what you wanted.

He tried to mimic your movements, slowly bringing his tongue closer and closer to touching yours. He was an asshole, but you weren’t going to make him go past his comfort level. You waited and waited for that green light to push just a little bit further, and as soon as you felt the soft flesh against your lips you gave him access.

It was so much less aggressive than you were expecting. More curious than anything, like he was nervous to make any wrong moves. Your hands slowly reached up between your bodies, your fingertips gently caressing his neck before holding the back of it, gently moving through his hair and pulling him closer into you. The moment he picked up on your signal he took advantage of it, pushing his tongue past your lips and tangling it with yours.

You gently tugged at Bills hair, although this seemed to only encourage him further, twisting his tongue faster until you had to pull him away from you to catch your breath, the taste of him still lingering.

“I need to fucking breathe, dumbass…” You said in between breaths, your chests heaving. As your eyes opened you smiled seeing you were still connected by a thin strand of saliva on your lips.

“Don’t make a mess of yourself yet.” You moved a hand down from his neck and wiped at his bottom lip before carefully leaning yourself up onto your elbows. Bill moved with you, wanting to give you the space you needed, and sat up onto his knees. “Help me.” You ordered him, reaching your hands down to the hem of your shirt and pulling it off of your body, tossing it onto the floor.

All he could do was stare at your still bra-covered chest.

He’d stared at naked girls on a computer screen hundreds of times before, he’d destroyed countless issues of Playboy and even a few Heavy Metal comics, but finally seeing the real thing was a sight so intoxicating he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Bill!” Your shout took him out of his trance, “Help.”

“Uh…” His eyes scanned your body, eyes fixated on your breasts, trying his hardest to hold a complete thought together, “Help with what?”

“Getting this off.” You moved to sit on top of your legs, inching your body closer to him, your arms reaching out and gently resting on his sides. You pressed your body into his, pulling away your hair to give him a clear view of the little clasp on your bra. As he reached his arms around you, leaning his head over your shoulder to make sure he was doing it right, you could feel his hands shaking as he tugged at the clasp.

“God dammit…” He whispered angrily under his breath as he struggled to get it undone, “How do you get this fucking thing off?”

“Calm down,” You groaned, leaning your head up to kiss his jaw, your hands carefully moving beneath the hem of his shirt and slowly tracing your fingers along his bare torso. You could feel that his warm body wasn’t used to the foreign touch, “You’re a grown man, you can figure it out.”

Bill groaned and kept whispering to himself, aggravated by the little metal clasp that for some reason he just couldn’t figure out. As much as he didn’t want to, he listened to you, taking a deep breath and moving slowly, and to his surprise the clasps came undone without another issue. You felt your bra loosen around your shoulders and leaned back to pull it away from your body, letting the straps fall down your arms and tossing it away. And Bill couldn’t help but stare again. His arms fell to his sides as his eyes were locked onto your naked breasts, and you could tell when you looked at his face that this was something he had always dreamed of, but now that a half naked girl really was right before him he had no idea what he was doing.

You couldn’t help but smile at his state,

“You know, you’re allowed to touch me?” You said with a snicker.

As if he was waiting for your approval, his hands finally reached up and gently grasped onto the soft skin of your breasts, a quiet breathy moan left his lips, “Oh my god…” He whispered to himself, eyes wide as he gently massaged and kneaded the soft skin. You couldn’t help but smile up at him, so entranced already and all you had to do was take your shirt off.

Your hands grasped the hem of his shirt, tugging it up over his tummy to pull it away,

“Your turn.”

Without a second thought, Bill sat up and pulled at the loose t-shirt on his body, almost ripping at it as he threw it across the room, fixing his glasses after getting caught on the collar. You laid back, taking a slow breath as he towered above you, letting out a surprised gasp as his hands found their way back onto your body. Gently kneading the soft skin of your breasts, and as you looked up to his face you could see he was nearly drooling at the sight beneath him.

His hands moved to the side of your chest as he lowered himself onto you, moaning at the first bit of skin to skin contact he’d ever experienced. He couldn’t help himself from needing to know just how soft you felt beneath his touch. His hands quickly moved back to your chest and he carefully moved himself down your body, his face slowly lowering into the valley between your breasts, gently kissing the areas his lips could reach as he couldn’t stop himself from grinding his hips into you. You could sense his smile against your skin and you slowly lowered one hand into his hair, gently playing with the few strands at the base of his neck as the other one draped onto his back, your fingers tracing little patterns onto his shoulders.

You could hear him whispering to himself and softly giggled as he pushed his face further into your chest,

“So soft…” Bill whispered before slowly lifting his head from the space between your breasts, his eyes peeking up over his frames to see your face as he licked his lips, watching you gasp and lean your head back as they wrapped around a nipple and pulled ever so slightly. His tongue swirled around the sensitive bud before pulling his lips off with a silent pop. Watching your face contort was only encouraging him further to get those intoxicating moans to leave your lips.

As he listened intently for the littlest sound from you, the corners of his lips turned as you took a deep breath and whispered a quiet, “Fuck…” to yourself. Your fingers gently tugging his hair were enough to make him dive in again, his lips leaning down to the other breast, kissing your hardened nipple before taking it between his lips and pulling, releasing it as you let out a breathy moan.

“You’re really good at that.” You complimented him as you tried to slow your breathing back down.

As he leaned down to kiss the other nipple, he looked back up at you, smiling,

“I’ve watched enough porn to learn a few things…”

“Gross,” You giggled, “that’s not something to be proud of, pervert.”

“Yeah?” Bill raised himself up onto his arms, his face hovering over yours, “Well you seem to like it…” He whispered, his lips softly pressing to yours just once.

You smiled up at him, your arms moving to hold the back of his head and move your fingers through his hair. Every word that came out of his mouth was repulsive, but with no prior experience he really knew how to use your body against you. And it only made you curious to see what else he could do to you.

“Have you learned anything else?” Your hands moved to his shoulders, gently pushing him further down your body as you sat yourself up. You carefully moved your body down to the edge of the bed, Bill moving himself down to kneel before you, his face turning redder by the second as his eyes stayed glued onto your face. His hands slowly reached up to rest on the outside of your jean-clad thighs, slowly moving them up and down.

“Like what?”

You shrugged, inching yourself closer and closer to the edge of the bed, your legs wide open as Bill sat between them,

“Maybe you can help me out of these and show me~” You smiled coyly, fingers reaching to the button and zip on your jeans, standing before him as his hands reached up, fingers looped in the belt loops as he tugged the hem down your thighs.

The sight of you in your little cotton panties was enough for him to make a mess of himself, and as you stepped out of your jeans he threw them across the floor and eagerly moved his hands to the hem of your panties before you quickly stopped him.

“Wait!” You head his hands gently as they rested on your hips and sat back down, legs open wide for him to settle his body between them, “Beg.”

Bills eyebrows furrowed in confusion,

“What?”

“Beg.” You ordered, leaning forward to get your face closer to his, teasing him with the thought that if you got close enough he could reach your lips again, “Tell me what you want.”

“No, I’m not begging you.”

“Fine,” You shrugged, getting yourself ready to stand and find your jeans among the mess, “if you don’t want it then-“

“No!” Bill shouted, holding your hips and guiding you back to sit on the edge of the bed, “No, no, I want it…”

“Ok then, tell me.”

Bill fought with himself for a moment. He wanted you, and he wanted you bad.

Everything in his heart was telling him that he couldn’t let you see him like this, watching him beg and writhe for you on the floor, but there was that little part of him that was so willing to do anything and everything you asked. He couldn’t take it.

“I… I want…” He never expected this from himself. He never expected himself to be so close so such a beautiful woman, her body almost fully exposed to him for his eyes and hands to wander over as he pleased. It was humiliating, but so endearing, “I want to eat you out… Please?”

You raised your eyebrows at how badly Bill sounded like he needed you, a smirk came to your lips as you leaned down and gave him just one quick kiss.

“Thank you. And thank you for saying ‘please’, I didn’t expect you to want it that badly…”

“Well, you said ‘beg’…”

You laid back onto your elbows, letting Bill move his fingers back through the sides of your cotton panties, slowly pulling them down your hips. He stopped himself just before letting them fall down your thighs and eagerly anticipated the exposure of your womanhood. He wanted to be able to enjoy himself.

You watched his face closely, and as he pulled off that last little bit of fabric you saw his eyes go wide. His chest was heaving, cheeks bright pink, and his lip quivering just as he slowly dragged your panties down to your ankles. You stepped out of them and opened your legs back up to give him access. All he could do was stare at your body, laid out before him for him to use as he pleased, but all he wanted was to make sure he was doing a good job.

“Fuck…” Bill growled, his teeth clenched, and he couldn’t help but go back to his perverse ways, grabbing damp fabric off of the floor and bringing it to his face, deeply inhaling your scent. Bill groaned, his eyes clenched shut as he breathed you in, and just seeing how drunk with lust he was getting from you only made it seem so much more than what it really was.

You may have hated each other before, but all sane thoughts had left your mind just seeing how drunk Bill was with lust. For a virgin, he really did know all the things that made you dripping wet.

And Bill could see that too.

He smiled to himself as he saw the littlest bit of light gleaming in from a crack in the throw blanket over the window and watched the way your pussy glistened for him. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it and he let your panties drop from between his fingers onto the floor, his hands moving to hold the outside of your thighs, slowly caressing the soft skin beneath his fingertips,

“Oh my god…” He said between heavy breaths, inching closer and closer to your core, so fearful and yet so exhilarated to finally taste the sweet fruits of his labor.

He was the reason you were this wet, he was the reason you were aching for some kind of contact to bring you further to the edge, he was the reason you were writhing with pleasure after every touch.

“Bill?” His eyes glanced up at you on the bed as you summoned him, “You ok?” You giggled.

“Yeah…” He nodded, his head dipping back between your legs, planting a trail of kisses up your inner thighs, “Just lay down.”

You did as he commanded, and as you slowly lowered yourself back onto the mattress you were hit with a wave of instantaneous pleasure as you felt Bills tongue curiously exploring your folds. It was impossible to choke back the string of whines and moans that escaped your throat, and you were done holding back.

He was being so slow and so gentle, being so agonizingly tender it made you wonder if he was doing it out of his own inexperience or if it was because he wanted you to be in excruciating bliss. As long as he kept his head buried in your thighs you didn’t care which one it was.

Second by second, Bill swirled his tongue faster, and as he devoured your sweet juices his hands moved from your thighs to your hips. He gripped onto you tightly, pulling your body closer into him, and you could feel the tip of his nose gently stroke your sensitive pearl. As your toes curled and you let out a yelp of pleasure, it only made him more curious as to what he could make you do for him just from unintentionally toying with the little bundle of nerves.

Everything beyond this point was purely experimental for him.

Bill opened his eyes and did his best to get a good look at you, but with your back arched ever so slightly it was almost impossible to get a good read on your body. He just did whatever felt right. One hand moved from your thigh, his fingers gently trailing up and over your hip, and for just a moment he slowly tore his mouth away from you.

You whimpered at the loss of contact, opening your eyes and prepared to sit back up on your elbows to make sure Bill was ok, but were quickly forced back down by the feeling of 1000 volts of electricity rushing through your body as his fingers found their way to your clit. You gripped the sheets between your fingers so hard you thought if you were pushed just a little further they’d tear, and Bill was using this all to his advantage. He liked how submissive you were to his touch, and every little sound that came from you only told him how good of a job he was doing.

“Fuck…” You groaned out as Bill brought you closer and closer to your release.

You couldn’t see it, but the smile on his lips stayed cemented as he dove back into you, licking long flat stripes with his tongue over your folds. All he wanted was the joy of knowing that of all people, he was the one pushing you over the edge. As he felt your hand slowly move over the top of his head, fingers intertwined in his hair and tugging so gently to keep him put, his eyes shut tight. He could already feel himself making a mess of his sweatpants, not being able to hold back how you were able to make him leak just from laying there and taking it.

“ ‘M getting close…” You whined out, your fingers tightening their grip in his hair and Bill quickened his pace, burying his face into your thighs and completely losing control of himself. The mixture of your own juices and his saliva were dripping down his chin, and he could feel your hips instinctively try to jerk back but he pulled you back into his tongue each time you felt your own body betray you by pulling you away from such bliss.

“Bill… Bill…” His name slipped from your lips like a prayer over and over again, and finally hearing you cry out for him was all he needed to help you cross over that threshold. With one final twist of his tongue he heard your cries of pleasure and pulled himself away, catching his breath as he stared up at you on the bed.

Eyes closed, face red, your lips were parted and trembling as you slowly relaxed yourself into the bed, taking deep breaths to slowly bring you back down from your high.

Bill grabbed one of the stray pieces of clothes from the floor and wiped your juices from his chin, smiling up at you as his head rested on your thigh,

“You’re a fucking mess…” He chuckled, slowly standing himself up from the floor.

You groaned as you sat up onto your elbows, pulling the rest of your body back onto the bed and giving your legs a rest from their wide open position. With one last exhale, you looked up at him with a smile on your lips,

“I guess you did learn a little bit.”

“Told you.” He said with an eye roll, reaching his hand out to help lift you to sit upright. You took it graciously and the feeling of his hand in yours lingered before pulling it back down to rest at your side. As your eyes moved down his body, you couldn’t help your cheeks turning pink upon seeing how hard he was from the bulge in his sweats. And he was bigger than you anticipated.

“My turn…” His hands grabbed onto the waistband of his sweats and before he could pull them down his hips you stopped him,

“Wait.”

“What? Are you ok?” Bill looked to your face for any sign of discomfort but when he saw your eyes, glazed over with lust, looking up at him he knew that you were just going to toy with him further.

“Let me do it?” You asked, your fingers looping into the waistband of his sweats and gently tugging, almost as if asking for permission.

A shiver went down Bills spine, and you could sense him trembling under your touch, but he looked to you and nodded. You kept your eyes on his as you slowly pulled the fabric down his hips, your eyes moving back down as you noticed him getting caught on the waistband.

A quiet giggle escaped your lips as you exposed his manhood, popping out of his boxers and bobbing just before your eyes. He wasn’t huge by any means, but he certainly wasn’t small. And with the way the last hour had gone you were hoping and praying that he’d be a perfect fit inside you. His body was shaking as you finished pulling the fabric down to his ankles and you moved your hands up to caress the top of his thighs as he stepped out of them, kicking them away.

Bill didn’t know if he should be exhilarated or afraid when he noticed your gaze lingering on his groin.

“What?”

“Hm?” You peeked up at him and flashed a quick smile before averting your eyes back to his cock, “Nothing.” Finally having the real thing there before your eyes only made those thoughts come back into your head.

All the nights you spent with that piece of silicone between your legs, twisting yourself into uncomfortable positions just to make it feel a little more real, having your roster of men flipping through your brain like TV channels, and Bill was at the end of every one of them. Without a doubt, he was always the last person that came to mind, the last person you’d ever imagine having you feeling the way you felt during those lonely nights, the last person that you thought of before you came each and every time. Even through all the hatred, all the bitterness, it felt so surreal to see that he was right there before you.

Your eyes glanced up to his and you knew exactly why he stood there trembling,

“Don’t worry, I like it.” You whispered before moving a hand up to gently hold it at the base, leaning in and gently planting a wet open-mouth kiss to the tip.

Bills body gave into your touch almost instantly, a whine escaping his lips as he felt your kiss and nearly fainted from the euphoria.

“Ohh fuck~” You giggled as he placed his hand onto your shoulder to balance himself,

“Sorry…”

“It’s ok.” You giggled, taking your hand away from his member, “Why don’t you lay down? I think that’ll make it a little easier for both of us.”

“Can’t I just sit?” Bill asked as he sat next to you on the end of the mattress.

“No, I’m already on this gross bed, I’m not getting on your disgusting floor.”

“It’s not that bad!” Bill looked behind him and tossed the few comics that were tangled in with the blanket onto the floor, “There, clean bed.”

“Sure, ‘clean’.” You giggled, “Just go sit against the back of the couch, it’ll be more comfortable that way.”

Bill did as you commanded, slowly moving himself until his back was against the dark sofa cushions. He breathed slow and opened his legs for you to maneuver between them and watched as you crawled towards him, his hands already gently holding the sheets just from watching the way your body was swaying closer and closer.

“Comfortable?” You asked as you nestled yourself between his legs, hands slowly caressing his thighs.

Bill nodded and watched you intently, and as one hand wrapped back around the base you leaned down and the tip of your tongue gently licked over his slit. His breath caught in his throat and you could feel his body tense beneath you. You tried your best to flip your hair over your shoulders but it was no use, and you looked up to him from his lap,

“You could be a gentleman and hold my hair back.”

“Sorry,” Bill said with a chuckle, his hands reaching out and gently combing back the hair around your face with his fingers, collecting it and holding it back for you, “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never done this shit before.”

You smirked up at him before licking his tip again, your eyes glancing up to his face seeing that he was torn between watching you or clenching his eyes shut in bliss. Slowly, you planted kisses all along his length, making sure to linger your lips over the head just to see how sensitive it was for him. As he finally let his head tilt back against the cushion, you smiled and gently wrapped your lips around the head, suckling gently as you listened to each and every noise that slipped from his lips. The moans, whines and whimpers coming from him were enough to make you want to keep your mouth wrapped around him for as long as he asked.

Your lips enveloped the tip, suckling gently before slowly taking more and more past your lips, making sure to keep a steady pace as your head bobbed up and down in his lap. Bills hand was still wrapped tightly in your hair, and he was making sure to not push your head down further and force it all down your throat, he was too eager and it felt too good to not want to fuck your mouth, but he was being a gentleman. It didn’t come all that natural to him, but he was trying so hard to make this enjoyable for you.

Little by little, inch by inch, you lowered your lips onto him to see how deep you could take him, and as soon as you found that perfect spot of comfort you pulled your lips almost all the way off before sliding them back down to the base, eating a dragged out moan from Bill. You couldn’t stop.

With every little sound he made it was only making you want it more and more, hollowing out your cheeks each time you went back for more to tighten what little wiggle room there was. You could taste him at the back of your throat, and even though it had been only minutes since you began you could sense he was close from the way his body tensed around you.

“F-fuck…” He groaned through gritted teeth, “I think I’m gonna cum…” Just then you pulled your lips off with a silent pop, catching your breath as you sat up. Bills hand loosened its grip on your hair and looked to you with confusion, “That’s not fair.” He said in between breaths, “I made you cum, didn’t I?”

“You did.” You said with a smile, wiping the little bit of saliva off of your swollen lips, leaning your body up and giving him a quick kiss, “But my hand moves faster…”

You stayed in your upright position in his lap, moving your legs around to straddle his thigh and give yourself a bit more balance as one hand wrapped back around his cock, the other moving to hold the top of the cushion next to his head. Your hand was slowly pumping up and down, keeping your eyes glued onto his cock and smiling as you saw how hard he was trying to hold himself back. The pre-cum that was overflowing from his tip was providing the perfect lubricant for you to move just a bit faster, the wet sounds echoing in the room in between every whine that came from Bill. His chest was heaving, head tilted back on the couch cushion with his eyes clenched shut just enjoying every second he could. Relishing in every moment that your hands were on each other.

Your grip tightened and the dragged out moan that left his lips was enough to tell you that you were getting him close. You pumped faster and faster, those little whimpers encouraging you each and every time to go back in for more just to hear them one more time. Hearing him writhe beneath your touch made your heart race, yearning to feel him so close to you once more, and you knew that moment would come after he did. And as you watched his hands gripping at the sheets to his sides, nearly tearing them from the frustration of holding himself back for you, you leaned your lips close to his ear and whispered,

“I want you to cum for me~”

You felt his hips jerk up into your hand as he groaned, his head leaning further back onto the cushion as he completely let himself become submissive to your touch.

“Come on, it’s ok,” You whispered to him, “cum for me i know you want to.”

His body seized beneath you, his hips thrusting upward into your hand and with a few final agonizing strokes you watched as Bill painted his tummy with long spurts of his seed. He looked down at the mess he made of himself and his face went red, leaning it back against the cushion as he caught his breath, a few strands of his greasy hair stuck to his forehead.

“I’m sorry…” He said between breaths, your hand moving up to brush the hair away from his face, “your hands are a lot softer than mine…” He smiled before closing his eyes, breathing deep to get his heart rate back to normal, “I didn’t cum too fast, did I?”

You shook your head and smiled, “No, you didn’t.” You giggled, “Did it feel good having someone else do it?”

Bill nodded his head and lifted it back off of the back couch cushions, his hand reaching up to hold your cheek and pull you in close, his lips meeting yours again in an embrace of passion, “So good…” He said between kisses, “so much better…”

It was odd. He was being so gentle, so tender in this moment that it was sending sparks through your body with every movement of your lips. You never would’ve expected this kind of loving nature from him, but having him hold you so close while his lips softly and slowly moved with your own made you want him more and more with every passing second.

Everything he had done since the beginning made you want him more and more as the seconds went by. Maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought. He may have been an asshole but he was constantly checking for your consent at every chance he could, not being to cocky even after talking a big game and being so gentle with your body when it was in his hands, and this little bit of tenderness he was showing you after making a complete mess of himself was the last little bit of convincing you needed to realize that whenever he popped up in the back of your mind during those lonely nights, is because you wanted him to be there.

You slowly pulled back and your eyes glanced down to his stomach, not being able to stifle your giggles,

“Now who’s made a mess of themselves?”

“Shut up.” He chuckled, “I couldn’t help it, you’re really good at that. I guess I’m not the only guy you’ve whored yourself out to, huh?”

“I’m not whoring myself out to you,” You said with an eye roll, reaching over and grabbing one of the stray shirts thrown onto the back of the couch cushions, handing it to Bill to clean himself up, “I’m doing you a favor. And the only reason I’m doing you a favor is because you’re going to do me a favor. Eventually.”

“Still not telling me?” He asked, sitting himself up and using the shirt to wipe up his mess, “You’re not going to try and make me ‘change my ways’ or some bullshit like that, right?”

You shrugged and leaned forward and gave him one last kiss,

“You’ll find out after I let you fuck me.”

Bill tossed the soiled shirt away and watched as you laid yourself out on the mattress, your hand reaching down between your legs to gently rub the sensitive bud he took advantage of, still so sensitive to touch. He quickly regained his stamina, climbing over you with a smile on his face, his body resting between your legs as his hands kept him propped up just above your shoulders.

“Really? You’re ready for it now?” He couldn’t hide his excitement amy longer, and you felt how quickly he hardened against your leg.

You nodded slowly reached your hands up, holding the back of his neck and pulling his face close to yours,

“Go slow. Be gentle. You do exactly as I say.” You ordered. Bill nodded and looked down between your bodies, maneuvering his hips down and watching to line himself up with your entrance before you stopped him, “Not now!”

“What?” He looked back up to you with his eyebrows furrowed, moving himself back away from your entrance as you asked.

“Get a condom, I’m not letting you cum in me.”

“Oh, right, uh…” His eyes wandered all over the basement, trying to remember if he even had any stored down there, or anywhere for that matter, “Shit…”

“You do have one, right?”

“Uh, yeah…” He sat up from between your legs and crawled down to the end of the bed, looking all over the dirtied basement trying to remember if Pete had left that little box he brought a few weeks ago, “somewhere…”

By this point you couldn’t deny your body what it had been aching for for weeks. You leaned yourself up and knelt next to him on the bed, your hand grabbing his jaw and turning his face to you,

“You better fucking have one, I need you to fuck me.”

As you let go, you could see the gears in his head turning, his eyes looking over every shelf and desktop for just the littlest flash reflecting off of the metallic packaging as you laid yourself back onto the mattress.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get one.” Bill hopped up from the bed and tried to remember where one could possibly be. He rethought that whole night trying desperately to think of where they would’ve been hidden.

The guys coming over for another ‘club meeting’, tackling one another over some bullshit regarding who’s kept who’s comic for longer, ordering way too much pizza using his moms credit card while they rewatched The X-Files for the millionth time, Pete talking about meeting some girl at a bar and how he was finally going to get lucky and brought out a box of condoms that he forgot about on the…

“Side table…” Bill whispered to himself as he quickly darted his attention to the cluttered table in between the couches arm rest and one of the various comic filled bookshelves.

He leaned over and pushed off the empty cans and mini chip bags, making sure not to accidentally knock over the dirtied ash tray with a half smoked joint still resting on the side, finally finding that familiar little box hiding underneath one of the empty video game cases. He smiled in disbelief, moving back to kneel between your legs as he struggled with the small cardboard box.

“Wow,” You giggled as you watched him try to hurriedly open the box, eventually relying on his teeth to tear the top away, “I’m shocked you actually had any down here, there’s no fucking way you were able to get a girl in bed. Especially in this filth.”

“Yeah? Well I got you down here, didn’t I?” Bill chuckled, tearing off one of the foil packets from the connected serrated edges.

“I guess you’re right.” Your eyes watched as Bill pulled out the condom, tossing the wrapper to the floor and slowly sliding the lubricated latex down the length of his cock.

Bill took one last deep breath before reassuming his position from before, his body resting between your legs, hands just a move your shoulders to balance himself over you, his cock hovering over your entrance. You adjusted your body beneath him, hands moving to hold his forearms as you looked up to him.

This was it. The moment you had stuck in the back of your mind for weeks, your body aching for him in ways even you didn’t understand, and it felt so surreal. All the times you spent glaring at him for even bothering to be in your presence, all the times you felt his eyes on you whenever he passed by, all the times he interrupted you speaking just to be able to get the last word in for whatever bullshit reasons he kept to himself, it all felt like it was for nothing. All for you to end up naked beneath him, waiting for him to fuck you senseless like you had imagined so many times before.

“Ready?” Bill asked, pulling you from your trance, and as he saw you slowly nod your head he turned his vision between your bodies.

Bill tried to control his breathing, inching himself closer and closer to your entrance and you could sense his slight hesitation.

“Bill?” You said quietly, his attention averting back up to you, “Are you ok?”

He was silent, but you could see the anxiety pooling in his eyes, so excited and yet so nervous to be doing the one thing he had always dreamed of. You weren’t sure what it was that made him so suddenly lose all confidence he seemed to have before, but if he was ready you’d make sure to help him stay ready.

“Nervous?” You asked, Bill nodding back slowly. “It’s ok to be nervous,” You smiled to help ease a little bit of the tension, your eyes meeting his, “do you want me to help?”

Bill looked back down between your bodies before giving you a little nod, your hand slowly reaching down to gently grasp his cock and guide it to your entrance, “Right here, you do the rest ok? And remember, slow and gentle, do as I say.”

“Right… slow and gentle…” Bill said quietly, taking one last deep breath before ever so slightly bringing his hips forward, watching your face for any sign of discomfort as he pushed himself into you, finally crossing that threshold.

You breathed slow, a shaky exhale leaving your lips at the first initial stretch, feeling him sink deeper into you. Bill took his time, soaking in the euphoria of your warmth as he pushed himself in deeper and deeper, trying so hard to hold himself back from cumming too soon again, all from the soft tightness of your walls squeezing around him.

It didn’t feel anything like what you were used to with anyone else.

The initial burning of that first stretch was nonexistent, your walls were consuming him so easily and every single moment of it was pure bliss. You could feel him sinking deeper into your body, his hips nearly pressed to yours and as you looked up at his face you could see how focused he was on making sure that this was good for you. His lip quivering, shaking breaths leaving his throat, and every few moments he’d look back up to you just to see if he was doing everything the way he was supposed to. When his eyes met yours he stopped, hips pressed to yours as he was fully sheathed between your legs.

As Bill peered into your eyes he felt as if he could feel your soul staring right back into his.

“You can move. Slow.” You whispered to him, getting a quick nod in response as Bills eyes went back down between your bodies, watching as he slowly pulled himself from you, only to push himself back in to the hilt.

When he heard a gentle whine escape your lips, he took it as a sign of good faith that he was doing well.

“Keep going…” You stuttered between breaths, your arms slowly wrapping around his shoulders to hold him as he hovered over you, your body moving with every slow thrust, “ohh fuck…”

Bill smiled to himself as he watched your face contort with pleasure after every gentle thrust, your moans and whines sounding like the most beautiful symphony he’d ever heard, and it was all for him.

“Can I… Can I go faster?” Bill asked, almost begging you to let him fuck you like he’d always thought about whenever he had his hand wrapped around his cock, but the overdone moans and groans that came from his monitor didn’t compare to the real thing.

You said nothing, only nodding to him as you let your body become consumed with the agonizing pleasure he was bringing you.

With every thrust Bill made he was inching you closer and closer to the edge, but you wanted to drag it out for as long as possible. Where was the fun in keeping it quick? All those months of nonstop hatred, the dirty looks and stares, the comments under your breath and the irritating way he would walk around you like he had you wrapped around his finger all because you couldn’t snap back. Why bother keeping it short when he was wrapped around your pretty little finger, making you a mess on his dirty basement sleeper sofa like you expected him to every lonely night that you were left with your thoughts.

As your eyes slowly opened hearing Bill trying so hard to choke back the moans you were dying to hear, it was almost as if he could see into your mind. He was towering over you, your bodies moving in sync with every thrust, his face red and his eyes clenched shut in bliss, it was almost cute to see how flustered you had made him all from giving him the one thing every pervert in his 20’s would’ve only dreamed of.

Bill let his fantasies get the best of him, suddenly remembering that he didn’t have to keep his eyes closed to think about all the dirty things he wanted to do to you. He didn’t have to use his imagination to pretend your warm body was there in his lap while he was sat in front of his monitor, thrusting into his hand and pretending it was you. With every noise that came from your lips, every creak that came from that shoddy mattress, every time he felt his body tingle with each push back into you only built his confidence more and more, and as he opened his eyes and looked down upon your figure beneath him he was consumed with a greediness that could only be satisfied by having you writhe beneath him, begging him to make you cum.

He carefully repositioned himself, adjusting his pace as he sat himself up onto his knees, his hands moving from beside your head to firmly gripping onto your waist, pulling your body into him each time he drove his cock back into you. Bill couldn’t help but let out the same bliss filled whines as he picked up his pace, looking down between your bodies as he watched himself fuck you into submission. He smiled as he let this newfound cockiness consume him.

“Look at me.” He demanded, your eyes slowly prying open and looking up through the frames nearly falling off the bridge of his nose from the gentle sheen on sweat on his brow, “Tell me how good it feels…” He groaned through gritted teeth, “Tell me how good it feels when I fuck you.”

“It feels so good… fuck~” You whined as you tried to keep your eyes on him, “It feels so fucking good… You’re the only person that’s made me feel like this…” Bill smiled wider as he watched you struggle to keep focused, watching the euphoria overcome you as he felt your walls start to tighten around him. He picked up his pace, his hands moving from your waist to your hips and guided one of your legs to hook around his waist, drilling into you.

“Use me…” Bill heard you whine out, watching as you were hit with a sudden burst of energy as the white hot burning in your core was getting brighter and brighter. With the sudden burst of adrenaline you leaned yourself up as much as you could, one hand holding your legs open for him as the other went behind his neck, pulling him closer to you, his forehead pressed to yours, “Use me until you can’t, please…”

You could feel the tears pricking your eyes, not being able to hold back the surge of emotions. No one had ever filled you with such pleasure, such passion, that it had made your body completely forget all functions. It was bliss. Pure, agonizing bliss. And Bill was the one to make you feel this way.

He moved one hand away from your waist and held the back of your neck, keeping you close as he felt himself start to get sloppy with his thrusts. Each push back into you was one more moment closer to release, and he could tell that meant for you as well as he felt your fingers gripping onto his hair.

“Oh f-fuck…” Bill groaned, not being able to hold himself back any longer, “I think I’m gonna cum… Are you close?”

You held onto him tightly, whimpering as you nodded to him, not able to make out the proper words as the excruciating ecstasy flowed through your veins. You knew it would take mere moments before you felt that rush through your body once more, and with a few final thrusts you gripped onto Bill tightly, eyes clenched shut as your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him in just one last time. With one final drawn out moan from him, his thrusts slowed as he filled the condom and carefully laid himself over you.

The silence that filled the room was a serene stillness as the two of you were tangled in each others arms, Bill still buried deep inside you as you caught your breath. You waited patiently for your orgasm to wash over your body, giving yourself time to recollect your thoughts and emotions before fully realizing what had just occurred.

You had sex with Bill Dickey, and it was the best you’ve ever had.

Slowly, Bill lifted himself off of your body and carefully pulled himself out of you, maneuvering himself to lay next to you on the sleeper sofa as he pulled off the filled condom and tied off the end. He tossed it into the full garbage can next to the arm of the couch and reached over to pull the dark throw blanket over your bodies. Maybe it was just instinct, but you curled up to his side, resting your head onto his chest as your breath finally slowed to a normal pace once more, the aching between your legs finally subsided.

“Fuck…” Bill said with an exhale, his arm slowly moving around your shoulder to hold you to his side, “You don’t mind if I smoke do you?” He asked as his eyes caught the ash tray on the side table, the half smoked joint still resting in it.

You smiled up at him and giggled to yourself quietly, unsure if you were shocked or not at the fact that that was the first thing he’d said to you after taking his virginity.

“No. Not if you share.”

He reached his other arm over, making sure to still keep you at his side as he grasped the joint with his fingers, quickly grabbing the lighter next to it. He brought the filter to his lips and lit the end of it, taking a deep inhale and slowly blew the smoke from his lips before passing it to you,

“Um, you know…” Bill started, keeping his eyes on his lap as his hand reached up to brush away the few strands of hair stuck to his forehead, “to be honest with you, I didn’t think I would really ever, uh… you know, do that, with anyone. So, uh… thank you.”

It was odd to hear him speak and not be repulsed by every word, but there was something in his voice that made it sound so sincere. He really never had the thought in his head that he would even get close to kissing, let alone sleeping with a girl, and yet it had all happened so quickly. His quick little ‘thank you’ wouldn’t seem all that honest to some, but after the time you had spent with him in that dirty basement, making him feel the way he never thought a woman would want to make him feel, you could tell he was being truthful with every word.

“Don’t mention it.” You said with a smile, holding back a chuckle to keep from choking on the smoke as you exhaled and handed the joint back to Bill.

“So am I like… your boyfriend now, or something?” He asked before placing it back between his lips.

“No.” You said with a laugh, finally looking up at him as he tapped the end of the joint into the ashtray, and oddly enough he looked quite good with his messy hair and the smoke billowing from his lips, “You are not my boyfriend.” You could see in his eyes that he was a bit hurt at your bluntness, but you smirked up to him as you took the joint from between his fingers and brought it back to your lips, “But, that did remind me of the little favor you owe me after doing all that for you.”

“Oh yeah, that.” He chuckled and looked down at you, “What do you want? I’m willing to be generous too, especially after how good it felt….”

“Oh thank you,” You rolled your eyes with a scoff and took one more puff before passing the joint back to him, “how kind.”

Bill shrugged with a smirk, blowing the smoke past his lips, “It’s the least I can do for you after doing all that porn star shit for me.”

Even after all your done for him, he just couldn’t help but go right back to his insufferable self immediately after. But, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t expect it. His type doesn’t change, unless given the right circumstances.

“For starters, you could be nice to me.” You inched yourself to sit up a bit more to look at him directly. “That would be nice, especially after all I did for you.”

Bill took another drag from the joint between his fingers before handing it back to you, blowing the smoke the other direction before turning his attention to you. It’s nearly impossible to try and ignore a naked girl asking for your attention.

“Alright.” He shrugged, “I could try it.”

“Thank you for trying,” You said with a laugh, taking a quick puff from the joint, “I’d like an apology first.”

“An apology?” He asked with a confused look on his face, lips curled like he wanted to laugh at the mere mention of an apology from him, “For what?”

“For what?” You scoffed, taking another quick puff and preparing yourself for the storm you were about to send his way, “I’ve had to go around you for the last few weeks and act like you didn’t piss me off because I was on the clock. I’ve had to ignore your gross comments and weird stares, I’ve had to ignore your incessant bothering during the times where I’m supposed to be teaching your sister, I’ve had to ignore the fact that every time I’ve been here you’ve caused me to leave with the worst taste in my mouth about you, and I just had sex with you. So I’d like an apology for the way you’ve treated me.” You offered the last hit of the joint to him, and watched him closely for a reaction.

Bill sat there silently for a moment, taking in every word you had just said as he took the last puff of the joint before asking it into the little ashtray on the side table.

You were right. He would go out of his way to annoy you, to make you feel like no matter what he could have his eyes on you while you were there because that’s all you were there for. For him to ogle and smirk at because you had to be there, for him to try and do whatever he could to get a reaction from you because at least then you had to interact with him. He was irritating and he was a slob and yet still, you had sex with him. You at the very least deserved an apology.

“You’re right.” He said plainly, looking down at you, “I shouldn’t have treated you like that, you didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry.”

It was nice to finally hear those honest words leave his lips, and you smiled up at him, thankful that he at least had the decency to understand the importance of it to you. Wether he wanted to apologize or not, he still did it, and he didn’t listen to anyone but himself. You must’ve put quite the spell on him.

“Thank you.” You leaned in close to him and gently kissed his lips, catching him blush as you pulled away, “And, since you were so nice about it, I think I have an offer you may like.”

“Yeah?” He asked with a smirk, his arm moving back around your shoulder to pull you in close, “Let’s hear it.”

“Well…” You smiled, looking away from him as your cheeks went red, trying hard to hide your flustered state, “If you keep being nice to me, I’ll keep having sex with you.”

“Really?” Bill asked with a smile, shocked you would even consider doing something like that again with him, but happy nonetheless, “Oh, baby, I’ll do whatever the fuck you tell me to do…”

He leaned over you again and pushed his lips to yours, holding your hip and pulling your body into his. You smiled against him but quickly moved your hand up into his hair and pulled him back,

“Not now!” You giggled, “I’m not going to make it that easy for you.”

“Sorry,” Bill laughed, pulling himself away but still keeping you close, “Then when’s the next time we can do this?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, “I’m back again next week, and if you can make a few changes by then I wouldn’t mind seeing your room~” You smiled, your fingers gently playing with the ends of his hair.

“I can do that.” Bill smiled, his cheeks still lightly tinted pink, “What kind of changes are we talking about?”

“Well, since you asked…” You smiled to yourself, ready to list off every little thing you could just to see if he could do it in only a weeks time, but even doing half would be enough for you. It would show at the very least that he was trying. “You could clean a little more, and that includes yourself. And you could stop eating all this junk and locking yourself away down here or in your bedroom like a hermit, I’m sure sunlight would do you some good. And maybe if you didn’t spend all your money, or your moms money, on all your comics and shit you might be able to afford a car. Or if you got a job-“

“Ok! I get it!” He shouted, not prepared to hear you list off item after item, “So I’ll just stop being me.”

“Hold on, I didn’t say that.” You looked back up to him and met his eyes through the black frames resting on his nose, “I’m not saying change every little thing about yourself, I’m just expecting you to act your age. I want to hear more about you, and I’d like for you to tell me about all the stuff you like, as long as you’re willing to hear about all the things I like. But, you need to start taking some responsibility.”

Bill nodded along as he listened, and though having to change his norms was something he considered only a second to torture, he was willing to do it. For you. Just as long as you kept up your end.

“Ok. I can try.” He said with a slight smile.

You couldn’t help but smile back and leaned your body up, giving him a quick but tender kiss before laying yourself back down onto his arms, “So, uh… How do I start?” Bill asked.

You nuzzled more into his body, his warmth and the scent of his natural musk helped soothe your body further as you relaxed into him,

“For now? Just hold me…”

“I can do that.” He said with a smile, allowing you a bit more space as his hand slowly moved up and down your shoulder.

You could feel him resting his head against yours, and you smiled as you felt his lips softly press to your forehead. As you lay there enjoying the moment, one last thought popped back into your head.

“Bill?” You asked him, not moving from your place at his body. He answered back with a quiet ‘hm?’ before you sat up and looked to him, your eyebrows furrowed, “Why did you have my wallet?”

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