#he's just standing in your bathroom bloody dick looking you straight in the eye while you're tryna hold your laughter and keep standing.

[highwehyrat]

Your first time with Katsuki Bakugo.

It's one am, I'm sleepy as shit, I'm supposed to be up by eight tomorrow but I'm also horny and have this shit running through my head. Enjoy my ✨rat-lettes✨

It's also his first time. Took place at your apartment after he came over one night after work. He was tired, mentally and physically and all he needed to end his week was his solace.

He came in through a window you had left open, didn't even bother alerting you that he was coming over

You're peacefully sat in your blankets giggling at your phone when all of a sudden you hear movement in your house. You immediately get up oversized shirt draping over your important parts.

You gingerly walk through the corridor of your house with scissors in your hands. You feel your bonnet swiftly being snatched off your head from behind you. You let out a blood curdling scream, fall to your knees and plead mercy for your life.

The all too familiar voice of your boyfriend graces your ears, causing you to snap your head back and pause your sniffles. You lock eyes with his red irises, the uninterested look he gave you while wearing your bonnet caused pure anger to bubble within you.

Without saying a word to him you left and went back to your room to tuck yourself inside your blankets. Realising that he may have over done it, Katsuki tailed along while spewing chains of sorrys and tips on how it's important to close your windows late at night.

You refused to budge. You were understandably upset. He opted to situate himself beside you in your blankets. The next five minutes were him trying to negotiate forgiveness. With no avail, he chose to negotiate with buying you your favourite snacks first thing tomorrow morning before you woke up.

One thing led to another and you found yourself sharing a bowl of fruit with your boyfriend while watching a dating show.

"He is soo not serious. What do you mean she's a gold digger? How in the world do you date a slay queen(baddie) and then expect her not to ask you for money for her routinely maintenance?"

"Broke people shit"

As the night grew darker, the bed grew comfier, the cuddles grew more intimate and the conversations grew deeper. Inevitably hands began to wonder, alongside the imagination. Most of it was foggy cause of how tired and lust stricken the both of you were in that moment.

But you're sure you'll never forget the feeling of your first Katsuki-driven orgasm, how the last orgasm of the night left you feeling like you had been exorcised of a spirit you had no idea dwelled within you, how he repeatedly cussed as he fought off early release, how he lightly teased you for being needy as if hes own body language was not clearly deceiving him, how tears brimmed his eyes at his first release, how he exhibited symptoms of eagerness to learn and solve your body like it was a labyrinth placed before him.

How it burned when his thick cock entered you, how it drove you nuts when his cock twitched for you each time he pulled out, how his hands dug into the flesh of your thighs as he figured out the perfect angle he'd be in you deepest. How extollations of his name spilled from your mouth as his skillful digits worked on your clit.

You'll most definitely not forget how worried he looked after you were done and he noticed the blood on his cock. He spiralled on and on about how he didn't mean to hurt you and repeatedly asking you if you're okay. You did your best to explain to him that he just happened to be quite endowed which resulted in you stretching a little over your elastic limit. He did calm down but it took him a little while to do so. He "made it up to you" through top tier cuddles and plenty snacks the next morning.

[pearlycorpse]

 𝐉𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝐀 𝐓𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾

pairing : simon riley (ghost) x m!reader

summary : druken times call for druken decisions

tw : implied smut, alcohol consumption, cursing,

note : i thought of this while listening to friends by chase atlantic at midnight so enjoy! next part coming soon!

no good decisions should be made when your brain cells are on a temporary high and would come crashing down hard depending on how damaged your liver is by the time morning comes rolling through. you always thought that your superior officer, ghost, would be the logical one and make sure he kept a level head while the rest of 141 practically drown in the booze coming toward their table. so looking up at ghost leaning against the door frame of your small room was definitely a strange sight.

he was a heavy man to support, and definitely needed to lay off the late night exercises because it was very difficult with him being uneasy on his feet and taking small strides toward your bed to actually not have him falling on the floor. ghost was drunk—not as drunk as the others—but still over the legal limit. it was the first time you saw him not tense or angry.

something about ghost just appealed to you and your tipsy mind. he was handsome and he didn't even have to show his face in order to appeal to you, not many men had that kind of attraction going for them. that sweetened the idea of getting together with ghost, but it was mere delusion to think like that. especially if he wasn't into men, but it wouldn't be the first time you fell for a straight man.

sighing from your own ignorance, you drank some water to try and sober up a little bit while seated on your bed. it was quiet, you were pretty sure your superior was out cold on your bed but a low groan from behind flipped your thought upside down.

'"bloody hell.." his voice was deeper thanks to his drunken state and made a shiver run down your spine. that accent of his was sexy, it was raw and authentic, letting you know that ghost spent the majority of his life in the uk for his accent to be so thick. "rookie, why is my head spinning?"

you looked over your shoulder after minute and you stilled completely. that bloodshot gaze was staring straight into your eyes, definitely making you forget how to breathe for a second. you chewed your bottom lip nervously, the tingling inside your gut made you feel like the alcohol wasn't agreeing with your system but it was just your nerves going hyper. a growl somewhat animalistic pulled you out of your swell and made you release your bottom lip.

awkwardly, you turned your body to come face to face with him, it made you feel your adam's apple bob. "i'm not entirely sure what happened.. but sergeant mactavish asked me to take you back since i was already about to leave and you were sleeping on the table.. sir." you answered in a feeble manner, not used of being this close in proximity to ghost.

he seemed confused for a moment before rubbing his eyes in irritation. it was silent again, but it was better than mumbling like a child so as you picked at the plastic bottle, you were unaware of the hungry lingering in ghost's tired eyes. the older male grabbed the bottle out of your hands and drank the remainder of the liquid, wiping the excess that may have spilled from his mouth.

whatever was going through your hazy mind when you watched ghost certainly roared to life, blood rushing down south and erecting your dick. "crap.." you cursed under your breath, pants making your cock feel cramped within its tightness and it needed to breath. hopefully your superior wouldn't be able to see the obvious tent in your pants in the dim lighting. you swallowed, standing up with a slight weakness in your legs. "excuse me—woah!"

before you could take a step toward the bathroom a strong force pulled you backward making you stumble onto your bed, leaving you helplessly laying on your back. "it's been difficult.. just trying to get you out of my head. pisses me off, how you're so carefree while i.. struggle against my urges.." his voice was definitely your weakness, but now it seemed like you had a lot of weaknesses at the moment. your heart was in your throat, stopping any words from reaching your tongue.

"what do ya say, rookie? wanna let me off, this one time?"

[erodasfishtacos]

has harry ever come before yn? and how did he react to it

warning: um this is straight up filth, sorry (not sorry)

CEO!H

-

“Baby, c’mon,” He huffs in frustration, his thumb slips once again because she’s just so wet for him.

“M’trying!” YN bites back, “You’re expecting me to come in two seconds all because you got yourself worked up by rubbing your dick on my tattoo.”

Harry can’t deny even after a few years of the ink being on his wife’s bum doesn’t make it any less hot to him.

It takes one more harsh pump of his hips before he’s groaning and coming, his fingers faltering on her bud once again.

YN is whining - these displeased, spoiled little noises that prickle the skin on the back of his neck and grit of his teeth.

“Y’sucha god damn brat,” Her husband spits out, not even enjoying his release because of his impatient, perfect wife.

“M’not,” YN retorts as she flips onto her back and lays down, not even disgusting her pout.

“Out of the hundreds and hundreds of times I’ve fucked you and made sure y’finished first - the one time y’dont you want to get all huffing and bent out of shape.”

YN squints at him, because he’s not wrong, she chooses to bite back with a bit of attitude, “Well you had some clumsy fingers tonight.”

Harry barks out a laugh, spreading her legs roughly, and muttering, “I’ll fuckin’ show clumsy fingers.”

Then continues on to make her come twice if his fingers along just because.

-

MLBrry

“Oh my god,” YN giggles loudly when Harry curses as he spills inside her - legitimately after only about three minutes of being in her.

“Shut up,” He whines, ego bruised a bit as he pulls out with a look of betrayal at his already softening cock, “Y’looked so good in m’jersey at the game tonight. Flauntin’ y’tits like tha’.”

YN smirks widely, turning around from where he had her bent over their bathroom counter, “I know, I saw how many times you had to ‘adjust’ yourself in your uniform.”

Harry hauls her up until her bum’s on the cold marble and her legs are spread to show him where she’s dripping from him.

“Can’t help it. It’s nearly impossible not to come the second I’m in you,” He pouts, it was the truth - usually he had amazing stamina but every once in a while his body was a traitor.

YN let’s out a quiet sigh when he tucks two fingers back inside her, twisting and curling in the way that make her toes crinkle.

“You amaze me. I’ve given you four babies and y’still as horny as ever,” YN giggles pleased and confident because of her husband’s constant want for her.

Harry pushes forward to lick into her warm, sweet mouth before he’s resting his forehead against hers and watching his fingers work into her perfect heat.

“Only horny f’you, mama. Course s’just for my wife, m’so fuckin’ in love with you. In love with your body, this beautiful thing has given us our babies - how could I not be obsessed?”

YN comes panting in his mouth and a smug smile on her face when he hardens back up against her thigh in the process.

—

Deaf!Harry

Harry’s lips are bright pink and swollen, his narrow hips pushed against the tiny counter in the frat bathroom as YN kneels in front of him.

“Baby, baby, want to fuck you. If you blow me I’ll come,” He signs in warning, attempting to coerce her into standing up but she doesn’t budge.

Her hands are quick on his belt and skinny jeans, letting his thick length rest towards his tummy as she leans forward to lick at the head.

He wasn’t joking, right as she suckles harshly on the head with her hand stroking the rest - he flexes and released with a loud loud moan.

“Didn’t know my mouth was that good,” YN gestures as she stands up with a teasing lift to her lips, thumbing a lose drop.

“You know when you grind on me it gets me going,” He accuses to justify his short span, “Don’t act like you don’t come in a second when I have my mouth on your clit and three fingers up in you.”

YN swallows harshly at the dirty talk, startling when someone bangs on the door, stating the need to use the toilet.

“I’m totally telling Niall you came in legit two minutes,” YN signs before swinging up the door and disappearing into the crowd - leaving behind her flabbergasted boyfriend.

—

Vamprry

“My leg is cramping, H,” YN complains noisily as he keeps her leg lifted a she fucks in from behind as they lay on the bed.

Harry is so so close.

His annoying little creature wasn’t going to find her end because of a god damn leg cramp.

“Bat, just let me - oh fuck,” Harry snarls loudly as he can’t control himself any longer, fucking harshly into her a few more time before he comes.

Ad soon as he’s lowering her leg, he’s met by her displeased, grumpy whimpers that make him want to bite her until she’s limp or kiss her sweetly - sometimes he can’t tell which.

He drops her leg, planning to finish her off but she pushes his hand away which has him baring his fangs and snarling fiercely at her.

“No, I’ll finish myself,” She grunts, rolling onto her back and propping up her legs, one hooked over Harry’s thigh.

Every time he tries to reach over to help as she rubs quickly and precisely at her bud with short puffs of air - she smacks him off which makes him hiss angrily as he watches on.

“You’re like a million years older and you can’t control yourself still?” YN teases breathlessly as she feels a ball of fire start to pool in her stomach.

Her grin gets wider when his eyes blacken and his lip curls completely back to reveal his glimmering white canines.

“Pest, you are not doing it correctly. Let me make you come,” Harry demands with agitation, his hands clenching to not just grab her.

“Shut up,” She snaps back, two fingers rubbing in languid circles that have her hips bucking - it really shouldn’t turn her on that her vamp boyfriend is threatening her with his fangs.

“I rarely ever come before you. Please little human, you are annoying me and I wish to make you come now,” Harry tries to use a more gentle tone.

YN finally gives in, letting him take over with his own fingers, two tucking inside and his thumb right on her nerves.

His fangs ascend back into in gums as he admires his squirmy mate who is restless until she tense and releases on his hand.

It’s only a matter of second before she is coaxing his fangs back out - because she loves to torment him, “Better luck next time champ.”

“Enough,” He growls at an ear-shattering volume before he’s biting at her mating mark to get her to submit.

Works everyday.

—

Influencer!H

Harry was getting himself overly worked up, as soon as YN pressed record for a little something that she could watch when she had to leave tour for two weeks.

“Honey bee, c’mon,” Harry rasps, voice as deep as it goes as he sits in the armchair in their hotel room - legs spread and feet planted on the floor.

“Hold on, just want a shot of this,” She replies, he was so fucking hot - couldn’t grasp that this man was her’s sometimes.

He had a firm, lazy grip on his cock - thumb circling his extremely sensitive tip every so often which made him shutter.

“Slower, tease yourself,” YN murmurs as she films him, watching raptly as he slows down his strokes but fucks up into his hand.

“Want t’be in you, bee,” Harry tells his with a wrinkle between his eyebrows as he twitches in his palm.

“Then listen to me,” She orders in a voice she rarely uses - a authorative voice that has Harry moaning as he squeezes himself.

“M’listenin’, I promise.”

“Stop,” YN replies, eyes following when he releases his grip and it sways before resting on his taut belly - pink and swollen.

She props the camera on the desk, shimmying down her underwear, and straddling him on the chair - letting herself sink down.

“Oh fuck - baby, m’gonna - bloody hell,” He moans as he comes within seconds, hand squeeze her plush hips.

His forehead is sweaty, lips puffy, and YN is so pleased with him, whispering that he’s so fucking good for her, she can’t wait to watch it when she’s away.

-

Cheating!H

“Y’takin’ it so good, darlin’,” Harry grunts out, teeth gritted and hand grasping her jaw to keep her mouth against his.

YN was in a mood tonight.

“C’mon, we don’t have much time before Anna comes looking, H,” YN goads coyly, her plush hips digging into the counter where her bum is pressed against.

“Hush up, pup,” Harry scolds, biting at her swollen bottom lip before hiking her up a bit more to hit her spot right on.

“She’s gonna be so bummed, y’can’t get it up for her tonight after fucking me,” YN doesn’t stop with the filth.

“Y’act like I have ever fucked ‘er. I’ve only been givin’ it t’you for the past ten years,” He mutters, tongue licking into her mouth to shut her up.

When someone knocks on the door, they don’t stop, Harry determined as he pounds into her with hard, meaningful strokes.

“Harry, are you in there? Are you feeling alright?” Anna asks from the other side of the door - it was super loud because of the party.

He comes right then on the spot.

“You’re sick,” YN giggles, pleased as he pumps in a few more times to fill her up - claiming her as he always did.

—

Gang!H

It started with the god damn fucking teasing.

Rival gang members, the police, literally nobody gets under his skin - just his bloody nuisance of a wife and she took full advantage.

She got in these moods were she would fuck with him, tease him, wind him up until he had her pinned down with a sore arse.

He loved her so fucking much.

It started at the bar, she had leaned over with way too much cleavage on display as she fluttered her eyes to get men to buy her a drink.

Harry who was currently in the middle of a lucrative deal couldn’t concentrate as a man offered to buy her a glass of wine.

He didn’t care who saw, he excused himself and pushed her harshly into the bar until it would bruise her hips.

“Cut it the fuck out now, m’busy,” He hisses menacingly in her ear, ignoring the men who were staring wide eyes at the exchange.

Her hand comes back to subtly palm at his crotch before humming, “All these nice men are willing to pay attention to me.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Harry rumbles, gripping her wrist and moving it away from his groin with force.

“Whoa, man! You can’t talk to a lady like that!” A brunette gentleman squawks after watching the interaction.

Harry steps back, a sly smile rising the corner of his lips, and he purposefully lifts his shirt just a bit to flash a shining gold desert eagle tucked in his waistband.

The man’s eyes widen in horror which makes Harry chuckle darkly, “Don’t tell me how to treat m’fuckin’ brat of a wife, she fuckin’ loves it anyways.”

With that, Harry storms back to continue his meeting and YN grins, a little flushed as she sips on a glass of water - aroused beyond belief.

After a bit, YN disappears down the hallway to the restroom, and sends Harry a text that has him excusing herself.

Please help me. Woman’s bathroom, hurry.

Harry’s reaching back for his gun, not hesitation as he rushes down the hallway - heart pounding at the thought of his love in trouble.

He slams open the single stall bathroom, gun drawn but all he sees is his beautiful wife, on her knees with lust obvious in her body language.

“Y’tha’ fuckin’ desperate?” Harry scoffs, locking the door and placing his gun on the counter - already reaching for his belt and zipper.

“Please sir.”

It sends a harsh, electric zip down his spine as he hisses when his wet tip hits the cold air, he bends down first - forces her mouth open and spits.

But his words are soft and loving after, “Brat, love you s’much. Y’the love of m’life.”

Her eyes twinkle but she can’t speak because he’s guiding himself in her mouth with a long push that has her breathing heavily through her nose.

Harry surprises himself when he ends up spilling right after she pulls off for a breath and jerks him, rasping out, “I love living life with you.”

Yeah he comes at words and he isn’t fucking ashamed.

It has him pushing her up against the wall and licking her out until she’s teary from sensitivity and legs quivering pathetically.

-

👁👄👁

[golddaggers]

midnight rendezvous

pairing: louis tomlinson x f!reader

warnings: filthy smut with hints of fluffness. period sex. petnames. him calling you baby doll. defo nsfw +18, so my dudes, read carefully.

a/n: it's your renegade writer back with her fantasies. i've written this a while back and though it'd be such a shame to share. if you do like it, make sure to reblog and like. thanks and enjoy *wink* leth x

word count: 3k+

xx

It’s just a bit past midnight when I park home, no one wandering the streets, or children playing about, there’s just the chilled breeze fumbling with the leaves. I don’t notice a second car on the driveway until I’m up close, I blame the dim yellow streetlights and my exhaustion. It had been a particularly busy shift at the hospital, I wanted nothing more than to sleep for about two days straight.

The cold crisp air makes me tremble for a split second, but I am soon welcomed by the warmth of the inside. I kicked off my sneakers, trying to be as silent as possible, I didn’t want to wake him up. A second car meant Louis had come home and he must be tired, it had been weeks since he had a break, we hadn’t seen each other for even longer. The weekends he happened to be around, I couldn’t work my schedule to spend them at home with him. It sucked, and I missed him more than I could put it into words.

A frustrated sigh slips while I walk to the kitchen, filling up a glass of water. After so many years, I should be used to it: the busy schedule, the months spent apart. I’m not, though. And being honest, I don’t think it’s possible to not be in pain when waking up to an empty bed beside me, to not hear the soft humming when he’s doing the dishes, to not miss the press of his lips on mine. I just wanted us to buy a bunch of lands somewhere, live a quiet, happy life, have children, and grow old. Just the two of us.

This was something I would never tell him. Robbing him of his passions wasn’t on my mind. I knew he’d oblige if I did say so. If I asked him, but I couldn't.

I leave a half-drunk glass behind, and go upstairs, taking off my plain white shirt then unbuttoning my jeans. Before I got to the bedroom, however, I froze, strangled sounds coming from there startling me for a second. It's followed by a smile creeping in, I’m very much aware, and familiar, with them.

The door isn’t closed, so I peek in. I see him naked, sheets pooled by his feet, and one hand wrapped around himself, moving up and down with ease, his thumb applying just enough pressure. I feel my mouth watering at the sight, a cramp twisting my belly. Desire gathers quickly, I was so touch-starved that I might as well come undone just by watching him get himself off.

His eyes are closed, thin lips parted. I slide off my pants, throwing both them, and my shirt away, walking inside in just my black lingerie. Even that was starting to be uncomfortable.

“Lou?” I call him, standing with crossed arms. He’s quick to drop everything, shooting me a wide, surprised glare. “Sorry, didn’t mean to spoil your good time.”

I’m half-joking at this point.

“I thought you’d only be home in t’ mornin’,” Deep blue eyes, sparked with lust, stare up at me. I'm very aware of how much I want to be near him again. “C’mere.”

He pats the space on his right side, it’s mesmerizing how quickly he can go from a sex god to a warm loving man. I go, but I don’t stay beside him, instead, I take my seat on his lap, which makes him laugh, rough hands on my waist, squeezing the flesh. I shift, uncomfortable, feeling him beneath me. So hard, so ready. It’s been so long I might just assume I'm a virgin all over again, shamefully responsive to anything he might do to me.

Louis leans in, planting a kiss just between the curve of my breasts. The prickle of his bead makes my pulse rise. It’s the intimacy that gets me hooked. He feels like coming home. A warmth that springs from the tip of my toes to my head, flushes my cheeks, and makes my forehead sweaty.

A “missed ya” whispered on my skin makes me shake, he then kisses the soft spot where the shoulder meets the neck, I let out a groan, moving, seeking friction. His smirk is taunting, both hands going up to my cheeks, four eyes meeting in the middle of a tired night.

“What now?” I say, unsure, panting as his thumb toys with my lips, pushing inside for a moment.

“Do you want a shower first?” He asks, staring at me, a boyish smile on his face.

“I should. I’m disgusting.”

“Nonsense,” The tip of his nose is pressed to my cheek, a ghostly kiss left behind on my jaw. “You look amazing anyway. Why d'ya think I’m so worked up?”

“Were you thinking of me? Getting yourself off imagining my hands around you? My spit and my lips, hmm?”

Louis pants when I grind down on him, slick with the throb of him against me. The fabric of my panties still forbids me from knowing his skin on mine, from sinking and swallowing him whole.

“Yeah, I was. Always think abou' ya', love.”

“I think about you too,” The friction makes me lean forward, sighing against his warm neck. “Nights get so lonely… I miss you so much, you know.”

“Darling…”

“Mmhm, I have to touch myself, grab my boobs,” I place his hands on them, and he squeezes, promptly. Fills his hands. It’s swollen, sore even. I’m burning up.

“Do you say my name when you come?” Louis asks, quietly, sucking a patch of skin. I’ve got goosebumps, I’m reeling from the build-up.

“I do. Over and over and over,” The room feels warmer if that's possible. Sweat drips down my back. I’m aware as to why I’m so sensitive, besides the yearning when it’s been months since he last touched me, my period heightens things up.

For a moment there, I almost forgot it.

“Can I just fuck you now, doll?” It’s a hoarse whisper, I clench in frustration. I’m hot, nearly suffocating. “Want t’ feel yeh so bad.”

His accent thickens, I’m lost, too into the moment to think coherently. I go for his lips, kissing him with passion, biting down on his bottom lip, still moving my hips, rolling against his. He pushes back, groaning into my mouth. It’s sinful. Everything about him is.

“Can’t, sweets,” It slips out, breathlessly. “‘M bloody down there.”

He smiles, soothing, hands firm on my hips. My stomach somersaults, it’s amazing how Louis manages to make me feel 17 every time he gives me that gorgeous smile of his. I feel like one of his groupies.

“Never cared ‘bout that before. C’mon, help me out.”

“Lou…” A strangled noise followed. I’m reaching a point where pleasure mixes with pain, I’m too aroused, too sensitive. He touches me there, trained fingers light to not hurt me but enough to stir me on. “You’re trying to bribe me, aren’t you?”

“Am I getting there?” The double entendre makes me chuckle, nodding. “Good. Let me take those off, hmm?”

“Come,” I untangle myself from him, the cold, empty feeling brings a pang to my lower belly. “If we’re doing this, let’s do it in the shower.”

I slide off my panties, tossing them at him. Louis laughs wholeheartedly, balling it in his hand while kicking the sheets away to follow me into our bathroom.

It’s bright, with mirrors everywhere. My hair looks an absolute mess, strands falling down my shoulders, I’ve got flushed cheeks, and glistening skin, perspiration all over. Five minutes with him just does that to you. He looks impressive from behind me, his brown hair was thrown back, wide blue eyes staring right at me from the reflection. I can see the extension of his tattoos, the tanned skin from being under the sun a little too long last weekend.

Louis is a sight for sore eyes.

We exchange a look then smile. The kind of intimacy that only comes when you love someone, beyond passion, beyond attraction.

He undoes the clasp of my bra. I sigh in relief, gasping when his hands cup my boobs, pinching my oversensitive nipples. I can’t help but toss my head back, resting it on his shoulder. He’s good at this, playing with me, edging me out.

“Missed them even more,” Louis expresses, a half-smile on his face. “You’ve got the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.”

“You know you’re probably the only man on earth that can get away with saying stuff like that, right?” We share a laugh. “Turn the water on, sweets, yeah? I need to take the tampon off.”

While he busies himself with getting things ready, I put my leg up on the toilet and gently pull it out, being careful not to spill any blood on the floor. I’m mentally grateful it’s not an extra heavy day. I wrap it up in toilet paper and toss it in the bin.

“Water is warm, baby,” Steam starts to fog up the room. “Come.”

“I hope I will.” I wink at him. I don’t know why I’m suddenly so cheeky.

“Don’t tease me,” Lust soaks up his voice, eyes stern. He’d punish me for sure. When I wasn’t expecting him to do so. When we weren’t so desperate for each other. Whenever he’s back home, there’s no games, just tension relief.

He goes in, standing beneath the shower rain, his back facing me. I look at his ass, all perky and round. It’s no secret that I got a thing for it, and I might’ve bitten it a few… hundred times. Whenever I get the chance, really. I grab them, squeezing the muscle, a hoarse laugh falling from his lips. Louis thinks it’s silly, doesn’t see how it’s so great.

We kiss, then. In a brief moment, he spins and pulls me in, tongue rolling ‘round with mine. It’s wet, crude even. I make sounds that would mistake me for a pornstar, groaning when his tip brushes where I’m aching with need. He pulls my hair back, exposing my neck to him, sucking and biting. Leaving behind bruises I’ll have trouble covering. The adrenaline high doesn’t let me focus on that, though.

His hand slides between us, lodging between my legs, his palm pressing my pulsating clit. I call out for him, squeezing his shoulders, whimpering. Just this faint touch sends me into overdrive. It’s borderline ridiculous. How good he is. Or how much I want him. How I crave for him like a junkie craves a fix. It’s the trip of a lifetime when he’s inside me.

I go for his dick, so painfully hard it could cut right through me. There’s something about watching his eyes snap close, or how he moans, but I wobble, my breathing going fitful. He says my name, pressing his soft lips to my forehead, still rubbing me out. My hand seems smaller when it’s wrapped around the width of him. Louis feels heavy and scorching hot.

“I want to do something,” I whisper, high on the pleasure he was giving me. “Would you let me?”

“I want to fuck you, darling,” It’s raw, doesn’t sound dirty, more like a pleading question. “Please let me, hmm? I want to fill you up. Watch it drip down out of you. My pretty baby with cum all over her legs.”

A pained whimper comes out.

The tip of his fingers are stained red, they never really slipped inside me, just circling, creating a build-up that leaves me in discomfort. It’s unusual how much time we are taking with this, at this point, we would’ve fucked about three times already. Either way, I like it. The glint in his eyes, eyes that I adore. Diamond beauties staring down at me, so full of desire. It’s powerful. To know you have such an effect on a man like him.

I place him in the tight space between my thighs, both of us groaning with the stronger contact. I’m dripping and it’s not just blood, he’s thrumming, hips sloppily jerking forward. I feel him almost in me, but not quite. I scream, I’m sure our neighbours would make complaints. I don’t find it in me to care. It's way too heavenly.

Tattooed hands land on each of my love handles, our bodies are almost one at this point. That’s when he lifts my leg, we both can’t do any more foreplay, no more waiting. I help him inside, a little bit of blood gushing before he’s deep within. It takes a while for me to get used to him again, two months can be enough for things to shrink back up.

“God, your cunt is so fucking tight,” He mumbles, out-of-worldly. “You’re gonna make me come and I barely even started.”

“And you’re so fucking big, gonna split me open,” I shoot back, gripping tight on his forearm, trying to balance myself as he starts to pound, slowly at first. “Fuck, baby. This is so good.”

“Tell me who can make you feel so good, baby doll,” A particular hard snap of his hips makes me sway on my step, but his iron grip steadies me. “Use your words. I want to know.”

“You!” It’s a desperate squeal, I feel full, he stretches me to a burning point. Pain mixing with pleasure. It doesn’t take a scientist to tell me I’ll have trouble sitting down tomorrow. “You, baby.”

Louis lifts my other leg, both on the crook of his arms, and presses me against the tiled wall of our bathroom. His teeth clamp around my nipple, biting, sucking. I feel dizzy with the torrential rain of emotions. The water keeps falling on us, warm. It splashes when he thrusts.

None of us is lasting longer. I wasn’t particularly known to do so, not when he was the one handling me anyway. Some people are just skilled. Just know how to push somebody else’s buttons. And Louis knew how to push mine. He knew how to push me into the fucking edge. Coax a string of orgasms out of me if he so wanted. With his fingers, with his tongue, with his dick.

I moan, one hand tugging the hair at the nape of his neck and the other going to where our bodies met. It’s a fucking sight. Watching him go in then out of me. I start rubbing myself.

“You have to be quieter,” He says, our foreheads glued together, still slamming into me like I’m his favourite rag doll. “We don’t need people calling the police.”

“It’s your fault,” My reply is followed by a curse word. “Giving it to me so good like that.”

“Mmhm,” Dark blue looks at me, I can feel him getting sloppier. It’s close.

In urgency, he kisses me, I’m too frail, too putty in his hands. A numbness starts on the tip of my toes, it makes my eyes roll back, I can’t even voice anything anymore, entirely surrendered to him. To the vulnerability of this moment. Being his as much as he’s mine.

Time stands still whenever I’m with him. And right now, I can’t even keep track of it, too lost in him. That’s why I don’t know how long it took, it could’ve been seconds or minutes or hours. But I broke. Went up screaming. Barely registering he was telling me to shush, that it was too late in the night to be so loud. If that was what he was saying at all.

I’m shuddering, that I can tell with conviction, convulsing. That doesn’t happen often. I mean, it’s always fucking good, but like this, like I’m on something, that’s exceptional. At one point, he growls, squeezing me tighter. His hips stutter, face squashed against my chest. He spends himself inside me, as it was promised. I’m beyond satisfied, I’m in a state of bliss no one can reach me. Where the world doesn’t exist, only him.

Louis stays in for a while longer, nuzzling between my breasts, I play with his hair, a bubbly smile on my face. No high higher than this. He helps me down, I don’t trust my feet, clinging to him like a child. A chuckle falls from his lips.

“That good, huh?”

I just nod.

“I’ll help you clean up.”

With a sponge and a bit of liquid soap, Louis rubs down my body, taking his time to bubble me up. I’m still sensitive to touch, I have to pull his hand away when he tries to touch me down there, where I’m probably red and still swollen. I can feel the burn. Good burn, though.

When we both finish cleaning ourselves up, we step out of the shower. He still has a protective hand around my waistline. I wince at the thought of moving away, but I have to, I can tell I’m one second shy of making a mess on the floor.

He fetches us towels while I go deal with the bloody problem. Pun intended. I clean the dripping blood mixed with cum on my thighs, and when I look up, deep blue is fixed on me. As if entranced.

“What?”

“You just look hot.”

A little laugh slips.

“Thanks. You don’t look so bad,” I groan, it’s still sore-ish when I slide the tampon in. “You really did a number on me.”

“Eh, who’s counting?”

Louis winks, helping me up, I’m still weak on the legs. There’s no need to get dressed, so we wrap ourselves under the sheets, our sopping hair making stains on the pillows.

It’s so painfully intimate.

“I love you,” I whisper, half-asleep, minutes later.

“I love you more.”

His voice is the last sound I hear before I drift to the first night of sleep where I feel full, happy, and satiated. Slept like a queen, his arms wrapped around my waist, cheek pressed to my back. I was on my little piece of heaven and no one could ever snap me out.

[sinisterlysiv]

Criminal

Summary: I saw a prompt for drawing a character in a specific dress and decided instead to write Dick Grayson seeing the reader in the dress for a date. Selina Kyle is your bestie and saved your ass when you couldn’t find anything to wear.

Content warnings: None, its just a wee bit of fluff and cuteness.

====================

It was just a last resort. You couldn’t find anything to wear that you liked for the bloody gala and you had been panicking in the bathroom to your best friend. 

You had called her up on the brink of tears in a complete meltdown about how nothing looked right. How you didn’t have anything formal enough or pretty enough or that you liked enough. 

Thank whatever gods were out there for Selina Kyle. She had burst into your apartment not even five minutes later while still on the phone to you. Her arms were laden with bundles of materials in all manners of colours and lengths that she tossed onto your bed before hanging up and dragging you out of the bathroom to talk you down from one hell of a panic attack.

“These should fit you, hey! Calm down” she had taken your face in her hands and made you stop pacing “Sugar, you are going to look gorgeous. He won’t know what hit him, I swear it. You know I would never do you dirty, baby”.

She had helped you pick out the most daring, risque piece she had brought with her. A beautiful, simple and elegant black piece that she had instantly told you was “the one” when you tried it on. Your hair had been styled, she even helped you with your makeup and pick out accessories that compliment your features as well as the dress and she had helped you into a pair of glittering heels. 

“Are you sure this isn’t too much?” you’d asked for the fifty billionth time while looking in the mirror apprehensively and fiddled with the laces of the dress.

“Sugar, are you doubting me?” Selina stood behind you in the mirror, brow raised as if daring you to doubt her. She was fiddling with a lock of your hair while making sure everything sat just right, tapping your shoulders to get you to stand up straight “You look so gorgeous. You’re going to be turning so many heads and everyone will be so jealous of him”. You didn’t miss the mischievous gleam in her eyes as she rested her chin on your shoulder. 

“Come on, we’re already cutting it close. Your cab should be here any second!” she hurriedly handed you the dainty purse you were bringing with you. “Keys? Knife? Pepper spray? Taser?” a list was rattled off while you both hurried around the apartment.

“I think I have everything…I owe you one, Selina. You’re a lifesaver, I swear” you gushed as you swept Selina into a tight hug.

“Oh you bet, you owe me so many times over now” the chide was playful but you couldn’t help blush just a tiny bit. She had never done you wrong though, that was the only thing making you agree with this dress “Ok Sugar, you’re good to go! Knock ‘em dead…And remember, chin up! And don’t slouch”. 

—----------------------------------------------

Standing at the doors, you couldn’t help but fiddle with  your dress a bit more. It was more than just daring. You could feel the stares from all of the people passing you and your nerves spiked again. You could turn back now…but no, no you couldn’t, Selina would make you pay for that ten times over if you fled now. You were here. Walking through the doors into the busy ballroom, you couldn’t flee. You had to just knuckle down and shrug off the nerves. So you did your best to square your shoulders as you strode in, casting a quick glance through the crowd for your date. 

Took you a moment to spot him but he was stood next to Bruce Wayne, holding a glass of champagne and engaged in polite conversation with someone you didn’t recognise. You stumbled slightly over the hem of your dress when you saw him stood there in all of his glory. He looked damn fine in that suit and you felt your nerves jump slightly. That pesky “What if” voice was back. 

It was just as he had raised his glass to his lips when he spotted you winding your way through the crowds of people. You saw him go slack jawed as he took you in and he would’ve slopped his drink down the front of his expensive suit had it not been for Bruce elbowing him discreetly. 

Your nerves vanished then when you saw Dick Grayson fumbling another glass of champagne from a passing tray as he made his way to you. You square your shoulders, lift your chin and let an easy grin slide into place as he reaches for you. 

“How do I look?” you blurted out as his arm loops around your waist, biting your bottom lip nervously while looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Positively criminal”. 

[givemeweasley]

Witchy Wednesday Pt. 2

George Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Language, and there’s talk of assault it’s not too graphic but it could be triggering to a few 

A/N: Here’s part two!! Enjoy it and don’t forget to comment if you do :) 

Witchy Wednesday Pt. 1, Witchy Wednesday Pt. 3

-----

After managing to get dressed, you’d made your way down the Great Hall to have breakfast. It was odd being George. For one, you were taller. Your limbs were longer and everything seemed to be easier. The walk to the Great Hall took less time with your long legs, and you weren’t as exhausted when you got there.

Seven flights of stairs didn’t seem so difficult when you were in George’s well built body.

“Earth to George?” Fred called with a broad smile on your face. You tuned back into the conversation and looked around for George before remembering you were George.

“Huh?”

Fred nodded over to the door. “Look who just walked in.”

You turned to see the last person you wanted to see. Long red hair and soft bangs. Two pretty blue eyes and a soft smile that was pointed at you, you realized. Susan Bones was pretty, but you knew she was a snake beneath that smile. And worse? She was walking towards you.

You flipped around to look at the real George who was in your body. “George! What do I say?” You whispered beside you.

George only smirked. “I don’t know! She’s a she demon!” George’s voice raised about three octaves as he mocked you in your own voice.

You glared.

Fine. We can play this game.

“Hey Georgie!” Susan squeaked, a broad smile on her face.

You smiled back and slid down the bench, creating a spot between you and George. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him frown and glare. But you were on a mission.

“Sit! I wanted to talk to you about something.”

George’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth, but Susan cut him off. “Of course, Georgie! How could I say no to my Yule Ball date!” And with that she plopped onto the bench beside you.

The sickeningly sweet tone of her voice made you want to vomit, but you were going to make George regret wanting to take her to the ball.

You slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to you. She smelled like lavender and honey, which isn’t a bad scent, unless it’s so strong it’s painful. But you pushed through.

“So what did you want to talk to me about Georgie?” She batted her eyes at you. You tried not to roll your own.

“Well, I was just wondering if you would want to be my-”

“Can you pass me the salt?” George shouted interrupting me. Susan blinked, glancing at him before turning her eyes back to me.

“Continue, Georgie.”

“As I was saying, I wanted to know if you-”

“Do you guys think that Polyjuice Potion could be permanent if you added the right ingredient?” George leaned forward on the table glaring at you. You knew what he was trying to do, but you wanted him to suffer a little longer.

“Excuse me, Y/N but we’re trying to talk.” Susan's voice was practically dripping with honey as she spoke to George. Then she turned back to you. “Please go on, sweetie.”

Sweetie? You shook your head.

“Do you want to be my-”

“I really do need some s-” George let out a grunt and based on Susan's sweet smile, she had kicked him underneath the table.

But then she did the last thing you were expecting. She cradled your cheeks in her hands and pressed her lips to yours. She tasted like cherry lollipops, which happened to be your least favorite. You tried not to throw up in her mouth, but you did manage to shove her off.

“I accept, Georgie! I would love to be your-”

“Well! Would you look at the time!” George shouted, standing up. “I do believe I promised George I would- uh show him my… my new idea for his products!” George’s small hand wrapped around your larger wrist and pulled until you were standing next to him beside the table. And before Susan could say a single word, George tugged you straight out of the Great Hall, Fred and Angelina’s laughs following you the entire way.

As soon as you passed the threshold, you reached your free hand up to wipe your mouth.

George tugged you all the way to the courtyard before stopping and turning to face you, a furious look on his face.

So that’s what I look like when I’m mad. Huh.

“Rule number two! No kissing! Rule number three! No dating! Rule number four: don’t go messing up each other's lives in the span of two days may I add!”

“We can switch back at any time, George.” It was odd to look down on him for once. But it made you feel slightly powerful.

“Not a chance.” He crossed his arms. “But do not go around kissing anyone.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned back against the stone of the wall. “Don’t act like you didn’t want to kiss her anyway, you’re just mad that I did it first.” What you wanted to say is she’s a shit kisser anyway and tasted gross.

George took a step closer to you, so close you could feel his body warmth. “No actually, I don't. The only person I want to kiss is-” He broke off and all the anger left his face.

You bit the inside of your cheek and tried to ignore the knots your heart was weaving itself in at the thought of George wanting to kiss someone. “Is who, George?” You whispered.

George stepped back and shook his head. “Forget it.” With that, he turned his back and walked away.

------

You stood in front of the toilet. Staring down into it’s white depths, dreading what was to come.

“I can’t do this.” You said quietly. But your bladder was about ready to explode and you knew if you held it in any longer you would pee yourself.

“Just pull down your bloody pants and pee!” Fred shouted from outside the door. You winced.

“How do I… ya know… aim?” You called back.

“You hold your dick and aim it! Think of it like a water gun!”

The blush on your cheeks was prominent, especially given how pale George's body was. “But I don’t wanna touch George’s… thing…”

“It’s called a dick, love. If you’re gonna use it for a few days, call it by what it is. Now quit stalling and go pee!”

You sighed, you really couldn’t hold it in anymore. “I’m sorry, George.” You whispered quietly enough that Fred couldn’t hear through the door before slowly sliding the zipper down on George’s pants.

You took in a deep breath before pulling the pants and boxers down. You felt the coolness of the air hit you, but you tried to ignore it. You simply looked up at the ceiling, tilted your hips forward and released. For good measure you closed your eyes too.

After holding it in for so long, it felt wonderful. It was also pretty convenient to pee standing up. It would be more convenient if you weren’t so terrified of seeing George’s...dick.

Finally, you finished which brought on a whole new set of problems.

“Do guys wipe?!” You shouted out the door.

You heard the loud tired sigh of Fred. “Not usually no. Just give it a shake and be done with it.”

Give it a shake? Are men barbarians?!

But you also didn’t really feel like touching it so you wiggled your hips a little before reaching down, eyes still closed, to pull up the pants.

When they were all secure you then opened your eyes.

And wished you didn’t.

There was pee everywhere.

On the floor. On the seat. On the wall behind the toilet. Everywhere. In fact, the least amount of pee was actually in the toilet. You decided maybe peeing standing up wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be.

Luckily, you were a witch. So you pulled out your wand. “Scourgify!” And the mess was gone.

“Bloody hell did you just use the cleaning spell?! What did you do in there?!” Fred shouted. But you ignored him and washed your hands, thankful the stressful ordeal was over. You dried your hands quickly and opened the door to an incredulous Fred. He looked over your shoulder before looking back at you.

“Next time, I’m not coming for a pep talk. I don’t care if you were Victor Krum in my brothers body. That-” he pointed behind you, “was nasty.”

You crossed your arms and raised a brow. “Coming from the boy who doesn’t wipe.” Shouldering past him you made your way out of the bathroom and down to the Gryffindor common room.

“It’s not just me!” Fred shouted from behind you.

“What’s not just you?” George asked, leaning back on the common room couch. Gently, you sat down next to him, throwing your shoulder across the back of the couch. You suddenly understood why guys did it so often. The back of the couch was right at shoulder height, and it was just nice to spread out.

Fred sat down next to you, looking across to look at his brother in your body. “Wiping.”

George sat up at that, a bright look in his eyes. Slowly but surely you were getting used to seeing your own facial expressions on your own face. Understanding that this was how everyone else saw you was sobering. “You mean you finally peed?”

You threw your head back against the couch feeling George’s short hair flop against your forehead. “Ugh. Yes. Can we not talk about it?”

George leaned up to your ear. “Did you like what you saw?” Your hand whipped out and slapped his chest. Hard.

So hard in fact that you forgot you were in George's body and he was in yours. A loud cough left him as he reached up to clutch the place you hit him. Immediately guilt flooded your system. One hand reached up to cup your mouth while the other reached out to touch his shoulder.

“George, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? I forgot how strong you were. I’m so-”

George was wincing still rubbing his chest but he looked at you with a small smile. “You think I’m strong?” He winked.

You desperately tried (and failed) to keep the blush from rising to your cheeks. Guessing by George’s smile, he had already seen it by the time you tried to cover it with a reply. “I know you’re strong George. You forget I’ve lived in this body for half a day already. I feel like I could lift a house.”

Fred laughed. “He can’t. He’s already tried.”

You opened your mouth to ask, but George cut you off.

“That’s a story for another time, love.”

-----

It was the next day, you were sitting in the library trying to find any information about body switching when George came marching up to you. It was a good thing the library was near empty, because George looked positively livid as he slammed his hands down on the table.

“Can I help you?” You raised a brow.

“We need to switch back.”

A laugh bubbled out of your lips. “Ready to give up so soon, Weasley?” But your smile dropped when George glared right at you. Somehow you could tell it wasn’t you he was mad at though. You barely even noticed the oddity of staring into your own ferocious eyes.

“Switch us back.”

You sighed looking down at the books before you. “George it says there’s no way to do it, it’s like a curse that we have to follow the rules of-”

“Dammit, Y/N!” His hand slammed down on the table making you flinch.

“What happened? Why do you want to switch back so badly?” You reached to touch George’s hand still gripping the table.

“I want to pummel McLaggen and I’m not doing it in your body.” He said it under his breath. So low you wouldn’t have heard it if it hadn’t been in your voice’s higher octave.

Your back straightened as you understood his words. “George?” Your voice was soft.

But he wouldn’t look at you, you could tell he was still fuming. “He pulled me into a broom closet.”

You breath hitched. “George, look at me.”

After a moment, he turned. His eyes still were burning, but at least he was looking at you.

“What happened?”

He took a deep breath but shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”

Your fingers curled around his own. “It’s my body, so please tell me.”

George sighed but nodded. He pulled out the chair across from yours, his other hand still safely snug beneath your own, and sat down. “I was trying to find you and he found me first. He tried to get me to come with him to an empty classroom and when I kept hinting that I needed to find you, he pulled me into a nearby broom closet. And-” George took a deep breath but you could practically see the steam coming out of his ear. “He kissed me. Tried to feel me up.”

“George-”

But he continued. “So I pushed him off of me and punched him. I ran straight here.” His eyes dug into yours. And you wanted more than anything to go back to your body. The separation of having your body assaulted and not being able to protect it felt- more vulnerable than you anticipated.

But then you remembered that George had protected you. He kept you safe.

George’s eyes darkened. “But I want to be able to beat him at my full strength.” You frowned but his hand gripped yours. “Not saying you are strong, sweetheart, but I want to do it myself. In my own body. So he knows just who it is who’s beating him.”

“Thank you.” You murmured. He lifted your hand and pressed it to his lips. His eyes even softened a fraction.

“Anytime, love.”

You felt a slight tug on your hand and ever so slightly, you leaned forward. Then you remembered who’s body you were in. And who was in yours. You immediately snatched your hand back and cleared your throat.

“Anyway. So. Um. Right.” You pointed at the books in front of you. “This is basically some sort of curse. It’s often done for people who are fighting. Like family members or-” You cleared your throat again. “Lovers. Or even friends. It says here that it’s supposed to be a spell translation of walking in someone else's shoes.”

“Well how have those people broken the curse? Is there an antidote?”

You shook your head solemnly. “Unfortunately no. The type of magic this requires is solvable but you can’t undo it. The only way to switch back is by finding the true argument but our argument was about McLaggen and Susan. And I’m obviously not going with him now.”

You looked up to see George grimacing and rubbing his neck. “Which there’s something I need to tell you.” You raised a brow. “You were right. About Susan.”

Your jaw dropped.

“She cornered me this morning and basically bit my head off. Saying me and George are soulmates, when we’re dating I’ll make sure he dumps your ass and she went on and on about essentially everything a girl could be insecure about. Your hair, your body, your academics, your friendships. She really ripped me a new one.” You refrained from smiling but it truly took all your willpower.

“So what did you say?”

“I told her I was going to tell George what she said.”

You rolled your eyes. “She would’ve just told you to do it. That he wouldn’t believe you anyway.”

George winked and pointed at you. “Exactly. To which I said, we’ll see and then I walked away.”

You smiled. “So that should solve it then. We’re not fighting about Susan or McLaggen. We’re in agreement. Right?”

George nodded and smiled. “I believe we are.”

A second passed.

And then another.

A few minutes passed after that.

And still you were in George’s body.

You looked at George helplessly, but he only had a small smile.

“Guess I better go figure out how to walk in heels.”

Taglist: @huffledor-able541​ @sarcasticallywitty15​

Let me know if you want to join my taglist!

[yourfangirlfriend]

It’s Nothing Serious - Chapter Four

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Notes: Idk someone’s reading this

——————————

“It’s not serious.”

You almost turn and walk back to your apartment.

Instead, you blink at him.

“Isn’t that shirt supposed to be white? ”

He closes his eyes and brings hand up to face and sighs.

“It’s not-“

“It’s a gunshot!”

“Is this going to be a lecture? Or did you want to drink?”

You shake your head and push past him, swinging the bottle of whiskey you brought him like you’re about to bring it down on his coffee table. You hear the door close behind you and turn.

“Alright. Let me see it.”

“What?”

“I’m not giving you a drink until I see it.” You pluck the whiskey back up from the table, holding it up.

“I have my own-“

“Javier, you stubborn fucking man-“

“ Fine.” He brings his hands up to his neckline and begins to strip off his bloody shirt. You stand there waiting, grinding your teeth when he pulls off his right shoulder and you see the bloody bandaging underneath. He tosses his shirt to the floor and brings his hands to his hips, before bringing them forward and gesturing, as if to say “enough?”

“Fuck, man!” You stride forward, stopping just in front of him. You raise your hand as if to touch, but pull back. You look back up at him, horrified.

“It’s not a real gunshot wound.”

“Oh, just a figurative one?”

“I-“ he turns his head to the side and growls in frustration. You ignore the feeling it causes between your legs. “It’s just a graze. It didn’t go through.”

You fix him with a look. He shakes his head, like he can’t believe you’re reacting like this. “Am I clear?”

You drop your arms from where you had them crossed and turn back, making your way to the kitchen. “Alcohol thins your blood and delays healing.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” He sits back on the couch, stretching his arms out across the back and dropping his head back. You return to the couch with two glasses, sitting down next to him.

“You’re not taking those pills with this, are you?” You nod to the bottle on the coffee table’s edge. He lifts his leg up and kicks the bottle off. What a baby.

“If you were going to come nurse me, you could have at least worn the little dress.” He reaches and takes the whiskey you offer him. You roll your eyes and relax into the couch beside him, taking a sip.

“How long did they send you home for?” You ask, your eyes falling back to the bandage.

“Two days rest, a week desk work.” He takes another drink.

“Aw, a pencil pusher like the rest of us,” you reach forward and pinch his cheek. He reaches up and seats your hand away. You giggle.

“You’re annoying,” he says, reaching to the side table for a pack of cigarettes. Despite his statement, he pulls a second one out for you.

“I hang around children all day.” You reach out with your lighter and light the two ends for him. He holds the second one out for you. “Probably why I get along with you so well.”

“Ha ha,” he deadpans. He leans back, exhaling a long puff of smoke. The two of you sit in a not uncomfortable silence for a moment. You look around his apartment, scanning for any signs of personality, but find it lacking. No pictures, no books, even the tv looks dusty. You bring the glass to you lips again before asking:

“What are you going to do for two days laid up?”

He shrugs. “Nothing.”

“No but really,” you say. “Like, you going to knit or something?”

“What?”

“I’m trying to ask what do you do for fun?”

He turns and looks at you like you just asked who the president was.

“You’ve seen it,” he says after a beat, dropping his eyes back down and leaning forward to ash. “You’ve been it.”

“And what an honor it was,” you nudge him with your foot. “Come on, not even reading?”

He shakes his head and gestures outwardly. “I fucking hunt down drug traffickers all day, alright? I count corpses for fun, how about that? What do you do, late night book club with third-rate soccer players?”

You frown and put your drink down on the coffee table. Standing, you bend over to put out your cigarette.

“If you want to be a dick, you can drink on your own.” You make to walk past him. “I’ll see you around.”

You hear him sigh behind you.

“El, wait.”

El?

You turn and see him standing, bent over to stub the cigarette out. When he stands straight, you avoid gazing down at the way his jeans fall on his hips.

“I’m sorry, alright?” He says.

You don’t say anything.

He sighs and drops his head. “Today was bad. It’s been bad for a while. I thought I was handling it, wasn’t letting it affect me but...well,” he gestures to his bandage. Your stomach drops seeing the blood again. He waits for a response but when you’re still quiet, he throws his arms up, exasperated. “Look, I’m sorry, alright? I don’t want to be a dick, I just want to drink and smoke and” his eyes dart anywhere else in the room. “...hang out with you and think about something else.” He drops his hands to his side, before looking back at you.

You narrow your eyes and take slow determined steps forward until you’re in front of him. Maintaining eye contact, you bend down and pick up his glass of whiskey, bringing it up for a long pointed sip. You swallow, then extend your fore finger, pointing to his face.

“... second rate soccer player,” you correct.

And it takes everything to maintain your character and not to join him as he bursts out laughing.

———————

“Javi, no, I’m too drunk-“

“It’s just a bandage-“

“I’m not good with blood!“

“You said your dad hunts-“

“Thisisafuckingfleshwound!” You snap. You’re swaying in the doorway of his bathroom, squaring off against him as he leans against the sink.

“I can’t lift my arm, hermosa.” He says. “I need some help.”

You stare at him, a frown on your face. When he shrugs.

“Fine!” You huff, putting you whiskey down on the floor. You go to stand in front of him and take a deep inhale.

“...in order to change a bandage-“

“Shut up,” you cut him off. Nodding at your own resolve, you bite your lip and reach up to grab the corner. Quickly, perhaps too quickly judging by the way Javi flinches, you rip the bandage off.

“Ugh!” You make a vomit sound. It’s much deeper than you thought it would be. Even if it was a graze, that’s a fucking gun shot wound. The angry, red stitches seep with blood.

“I told you! I told you about the alcohol thinning thing!” You say.

“Can you just-?”

“God, it’s so deep-“

“Eloise, put the fu-“

You pull the new bandage open and grimace as you hold it up, hovering over the deep, ugly line. Gently, gently as you can, you press down on the adhesive, nibbling at your lip when it looks like he’s in pain. When you finish you step back, like the thing might bite you.

“There- there!” You say.

“You did it.” Then, he brings both his hands up to run along the outside, smithing it. Be breaks into a smile when sees the face you make. “Pretty good for a beginner.”

“You asshole! I told you I don’t like blood!” You reach forward and push his shoulder. Immediately he hissed in pain. “Shit! Shit! Shit! I’m sorry! I’m sorry-“

———

“I should...take a pain pill,” he says from behind you as he lays down, eyes closed on the couch. You sit up from where you’re sat in front of him, smoking a cigarette, and turn to chide him.

“ No.” You slur. “You’ll...you’ll die.”

He blows a raspberry.

“Shut up, that’s how Judy Garland died!” You turn back forward and lay your head back, resting on his arm. You close your eyes.

“It hurts,” he says.

“You’ve just got to focus on something else. You can will your consciousness-“

“Christ, your parents really were hippies.”

“-fucking told you- anyway, don’t think about that. Think about...” you smack your lips, trying to think. “How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

He laughs. “Psssh. What?”

“I bet you were 15.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Were you?”

“...sixteen,” he concedes. “What about you?”

“...how long ago did we first have sex?”

“... What-“

You let out a deep belly laugh. “Oh my god, you are so gullible. I can’t believe you’re a fucking agent-“

“- I didn’t actually believe you!.”

“Yeah, alright.” You shake your head.

“...Well?”

“What?”

“How old?”

You take a deep sigh. “Twenty.”

He laughs. “Nerd.”

“Slut.”

He nudges your head with his shoulder, and you break out in a smile.

“See? Not hurting anymore.”

————

“-No, where Carter went wrong-“

“Oh please regale me, Mr. ‘Nixon Had his Good traits’ -“

“Will you listen-“

“I bet you voted for Reagan-“

“ Don’t insult me-“

________

“Oh wow.”

“What?”

“No just, you being an only child makes sense.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“What do you think it means?” You laugh.

He smiles, looking away from you. “That I’m...independent...”

You laugh harder.

—————-

“Apartment looks like a serial killer’s-“

“What?”

“Put one picture of your mother up-“

————

“...I should buy a boat-“

“- You should totally buy a boat.”

——————

You wake up to a room lit up by the blue that precedes the rising sun. You pull your head up from where you’ve been leaned back, still resting on Javi’s arm. Pushing up onto your feet like a baby deer, you survey the damage left on the coffee table. The whiskey bottle is empty, and a few cans of beer are scattered across countless cigarette butts and ash, the result of an upturned ashtray and drunken laziness. Deciding it’s a job for later, you turn to Javi, who’s still asleep, mouth agog.

“Javi,” you reach forward and shake him. He barely stirs. You shake him again. “Javier.”

He jolts away, turning towards you rapidly. In the second he doesn’t recognise where he is, his eyes flash in such a way your chest aches. “What...”

“We fell asleep in your living room ...and I am still very drunk...” you swallow. “But you need to sleep in a bed. Come on.” You reach your hand down to pull him up. He takes your hand, standing slowly. You wrap your arm around his waist, urging him back towards his bedroom.

When you get to the edge of the bed, you deposit him on the edge of his mattress. You hear him him as you walk to the adjoining bathroom and fill the cup of water there. You try and drink as slowly as possible, and refill it after you’ve downed the cup. Walking back to the bed, you shake Javi awake once again.

“Javi-“

“Mmrpff.”

“Sit up and drink this.”

His eyes still closed, he sits up and takes the glass. He gulps it down before handing it back in your vague direction. You place it on the table beside him.

“Before I go-“

“Wha? No, don’t be stupid.” He reaches up and pulls you down to lay beside him. He turns on his back, giving you some room “Go to sleep.”

You open your mouth to protest, but you then you think...why not. You’re still drunk, and while you know it’s going to hurt in the morning and you’ll want nothing more to be in your own bed, in your own wallowing, something’s keeping you on the mattress beside him. Convenience, you decide.

“These sheets better be washed,” you mumble as you settle in beside him. You hear him chuckle before you’re asleep.

———————

You’re right.

It does hurt.

You can barely open your eyes before the morning light is giving you a headache. Turning away from the light, you open your eyes further to see Javi standing by the bed, the pain pills bottle open and in his hand.

He looks rough, and he’s ready for you to scold him. He holds up a hand in pre defence.

“Don’t -“

“Sssh,” you wave your hand. You reach out your palm. “Give me two.”

—————

The two of you wake again a few hours later. In your drugged, heavy sleep you seem to have gone diagonal in the bed, forcing Javier to the edge, your face pressed into the back of his neck. You try righting yourself, giving him some room as you stretch. You sit up and press the heel of your palm into your eyes, shaking your head. You turn to look down at your companion, who’s stirred awake.

“What time is it?” He murmurs. You turn to look at the clock.

“1:30,” you say. He shakes his head.

“Not ready.”

“Me neither.” You say. You feel a tug on your shirt from behind you, urging you back. You give in, and lay back. He puts his chin on your shoulder, burying his nose in your neck, an arm sling across your front.

“Hmmm,” he says as way of an invitation.

And you drift back off.

————

When you both wake up again at 4:40, you pull him out of bed and into the living room to try and get some food in him. All he wants, though, are cigarettes. It turns into a tense negotiation, with you threatening to light his pack up on the gas stove if he didn’t try to at least east a piece of toast. After the first, though, neither of you can get enough, and you end up making the worlds shittiest grilled, hungover cheese sandwiches. When you’re both sat at the table on your second sandwich, you raise your head.

“We slept the whole day, and I still feel like shit. And now my sleep schedules fucked.”

“We could go back to sleep,” he says taking another eager bite.

“How is that possible? We slept about 12 hours.”

He holds up the pill bottle, rattling it.

“...Aren’t you in the DEA?” You hold out your hand.

He pops the lid and deposits two in your palm before dropping two more in his own. “I’m off today.”

————————

When you wake up on Sunday morning around 11, he’s already up, sitting on the couch with a coffee and plate of eggs. As you wander into his periphery, he turns to look at you.

“Made coffee,” he holds up his mug. “Eggs.”

“Thanks,” you walk over to the sink and fill up a glass of water. You walk over to the couch and drop into the corner. He’s still shirtless in his jeans, but looks a lot cheerier.

You, on the other hand.

“Ugh,” you bring the glass to your mouth taking a deep gulp before continuing. “I have to grade so much today,”

“They’re kids, how hard could it be?” He shakes his head. “I’d kill for some work right now.”

“I have a pile over the past few weeks. They’re writing assignments, I have...have to leave little notes on each one...on their grammar.”

You’re both quiet for a second before he realises what you’re thinking.

“Javi-“

“No.”

“You just said it would be easy.”

“I want real work.”

“Wow.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Come on,” you moan. He shakes his head.

“No.”

“...I’ll suck your dick.”

————

“...is this comma supposed to be there?”

“Let me see? ......Ah, no. -2.”

“...kind of severe.”

——-

By the time he’s pants up, hands shaky as he recovers from frankly some of the best fellatio you’ve ever performed, the sun is just about to set. You finish your sip of water from where you’re stood in the kitchen, skimming over the assignments to check they all have a grade. When he comes up to kitchen, his hands pressed into his back pockets, you look up and give him a smile.

“Good job,” you say.

He nods and reaches for the water. You return to his bedroom to pull on the jeans you had discarded two nights earlier, the first time he had pulled you into bed to sleep, returning minutes later. When he turns and sees you, he raises his eye brows.

“Headed out?”

“Desperately need a shower.” You walk to the counter and pick up the papers. You examine his bandage. “How you feeling?”

“Better,” he runs a finger along the underside. “They said I can come in a day earlier, but they want me to stay home tomorrow.”

“Didn’t even offer to bring you homework?” You ask. He shrugs.

“Steve might. Not til 5 though.”

“A whole day of nothing.” You make a face.

“...I like reading.” He says. You look back up at him.

“Huh?”

“For fun.” he  clarifies. Then, as if realizing he may have just disclosed something, he clears his throat and looks away “Maybe I’ll find something.” He says. He nods to the door. “I’ll see you out.”

You walk with him to the door and wait as he unlocks it. Holding it open he leans against it.

You’re about to say goodbye when he leans forward and catches you in a kiss. It’s longer than you would have expected from him, given whatever this arrangement was. Yet you’re not pulling away. When he finally does break, you find yourself leaning forward, chasing his lips.

“Get home safe,” he says. You roll your eyes, making for your door. When you get it open, you look up and see him still watching you. You look down and smile, pressing forward and closing the door behind you.

A moment later, you rap three times on your shared wall.

If you’re not mistaken, you hear a muffled laugh.

————

When he opens the door at 7:00 the next morning, he’s surprised to see you on the mat.

“Hey,” he says, pressing his hand into his eye, rubbing the sleep out. “What-“

“Sorry, I have to get to the school early, but,” you reach out your items to him. Still bleary eyed, it takes him a moment to focus.

“I bought them at the airport when I came down,” you shrug. “They’re shit, but they hold your attention. This one actually is decent by the end, if you can push through .” You tap the cover on top. “Just in case you need something to do.”

He looks up at you, his face still perplexed. You shake you head.

“You’re welcome,” you sigh. You turn and begin walking to the door when you hear him behind you.

“Hey,” he says. You turn and see him standing on the mat, outside of his house. He holds up the stack. “Thanks.”

You stop and sigh.

Then you smile.

“Just take care of yourself today. Don’t need that bursting open the minute you don’t have adult supervision.” You point to has bandage before turning to walk out. Just before the door closes, you hear it.

“It’s not serious!!”

[pecherlecriture]

just another day while quarantine

warnings: smut

hello, hope you likes this one shot, English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there's any mistakes

the fucking gift istg.

"fuck baby" harry said when he saw you walk with two new glasses full of some expensive liquor harry had bought in some country you couldn't remember the name. you just smiled and sit down next to him, to the point you were basically on top of him, his arms pull you closer and he kiss you.

"i'm very drunk" you say and you can hear him giggle a little bit.

"me too darlin" the dimples on his cheeks making its way. "but I'm not gonna lie this little cocktail look very interestin". you laughed, it was just a mojito with some berries on top (what an expensive liquor am I right)

you started to drink your mojito as well, something you were really grateful for was being able to spend quarantine with harry, you both have been dating for a while, but haven't been sure about the moving together step. but having spend this weeks together have show you both it was the right thing to do.

quarantine has been fun for the most part since both of you have little to no work to do, harry did write a little bit every day, trying to keep an schedule and it keeps his head flowing, or at least that was he says, you don't mind, actually you love when he pick up his guitar and start gong hard on it.

talking about going hard on it , you two have been fucking like rabbits, both of you get bored pretty quickly while watching a movie and neither of you find something better to do than make each other feel good.

memories of the days before flow through your mind, the way he would choke you while he pound you from behind, the way he always want to make sure you are wet and ready for him so he makes you cum at least once with his mouth, he really loved eating you out, he says he wouldn't mind spending all day between you sweet legs.

you feel yourself getting wet just by the though of it, you move your legs so you can make some friction and harry notices you are zoned out.

"y'there babygirl?" he say with his beautiful raspy voice and you can feel yourself get even more wet if possible.

"yeah, just thinking about you" you answer and start playing with his hair, he pulls his head back at your touch and moans very slowly, not trying to be sexual it was just from the pleasure of your hand on his hair, but you couldn't help but get hornier at the sound.

"whatcha' thinkin about" he asks and looks back at you and you just blush a little bit taking a sip of your drink. "oh..."he says "those types of thoughts,huh then I wanna know even more what ya were thinkin about" he smirks and pulls you on top of him.

you bite your lip and grind your hips onto his, a wave of pleasure goes through your body and you can't help but moan

"y'baby yeh like that?" he whispers on your lips, you just nod and he pulls your hair throwing your head back.

"y'just can't get enough righ baby?" he ask and bites your neck slowly and you whimper loudly. "y'just can't get enough of my cock isn't babygirl?" he practically growls against you neck kissing it leaving marks behind.

"yes baby, I fucking love your cock" you moan grinding your hips once again but your actions don't last long, he keeps your hips still holding them tightly

"nuh uh darlin', yeh get what I give you, I'm in charge aren't I?" he smirks and pulls you under him. His mouth finally comes in contact with yours and you moan happily, his kisses were addictive, they tested so good and his lips were the softest. he pulls back and take his shirt off, you take a good look at him and bite your lip when you notice his hard dick through his gray sweatpants,the littler fucker , you hear him laugh slightly and you look innocently at him.

"yeh like what you see?" he ask and you nood.

"yes daddy I fucking love it" you say and pull your tits together biting your lip and he curses.

"god I fucking love yeh" he takes your shirt off leaving you only on your wet panties. "can see how wet yeh are for me darlin" he touch the wet patch on your panties making eye contact with you making everything so much more intimate "fuckin soaked" he says and dip his head down to your pussy.

"gonna let me have a good taste righ baby? you gonna let daddy take what he wants?" he ask pulling your panties to the side, you don't answer because your were way to focused on his face looking directly into you pretty pussy, he notices and spit in your clit

"fuck" you scream

"i'm pretty sure I asked you somethin little one" he enters one finger to your tight hole.

"f-fuck daddy, what was it?" you ask and he laughs pounding his finger faster than before. you start moaning harder and you were feeling incredible "another finger daddy please" you beg and he do as you ask.

"yeh are making my whole hand fucking wet darlin, I bet I will you slip righ in won't I?" he adds yet another finger and start pounding harder making you throw your head back and moan

"fucking spectacular" he whisper and pulls his head down finally taking a good taste of you.

"shit h" you scream and your hand went straight to his hair pulling it slightly, he doesn't even flinch, to busy eating you out, to busy having the meal of his life.

"baby please" you beg "please I need you inside, or at least let me have a taste of you too" you whimper and you can feel him saying something while his tongue was to busy being inside of you. he pulls away and throw his pants down, obviously he wasn't using boxers so you got an amazing view of his impressive cock, completely hard, red on the tip and leaking precum. it looked fucking amazing and you couldn't wait to have a good taste and feel it hard inside you. he pulls your underwear down and kiss you one more time before he finally slides in.

"ff-fuckk darlin, so bloody tight" he moans "and so wet fo me"

you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second if possible. the bare feeling of having harry's cock inside you was already an amazing experience, and yet he manages to making feel even better

"shit daddy I can feel you so deep in my tummy" harry moans after hearing you say that and start moving his hips, he started pounding to yo like an animal right away, you could feel him everywhere, he was so so deep and you loved every second of it. you could feel his balls hitting you with an amazing rhythm and let not even mention his fucking moans, literal heaven.

"yeh like it darlin? yeh like it when I fuck y'hard huh?" his hand grips your neck hard, making you loose a little bit of air "such a good girl fo me" he murmurs against your body and grabs one of your breast and start licking it like it was his first meal after years

"fuck harry yes!"you scream and can feel your throat getting irritated by your loud moans but you couldn't care, not right now at least.

"come here little one" he pulls you closer to him making your chest touch "you drive me mad darlin" he moans against your mouth and you can help but smile.

"i love you" you say and kiss him hard, his right hand grabs your hair and his left grabs your ass and smack it a few times.

"fuck baby keep going please" you beg and he starts pounding onto you even harder, you could feel the knot on your stomach growing making your toes curl and you scratch Harry's back making him groan loudly.

"yeh gonna cum baby?" he ask with a sweet innocent voice even though his action were quite the opposite.

"f-fuck harry, yes, shit please make me cum baby" you two make eye contact and everything feels even more intimate "please h" you beg once more and he closes his eyes for a second and you can see a little smirk forming on his precious lips.

he pulls you against the bed once again having your back against the mattress and he holds your right hand with his and his left one go straight to your clit playing with it. You feel the knot about to snap and you scratch his back screaming his name

"yessss, fuck baby , oh my god" you can feel tears forming on your eyes from the pleasure. harry was completely concentrated and making you and himself cum, he was really close, your pussy just feels so amazing around him and he wants to stay inside of it forever.

he holds your face with his right hand and kisses you with so much passion, you feel the knot let go and you throw your head back in pleasure and harry swears you are the most beautiful girl in the whole fucking world, you were his muse and he couldn't get enough of you.

"s-shit darlin" he moans once more and you feel him pull out and cum on your tummy and you moan at the feel of it, you loved the moments both of you were able to be this vulnerable around each other.

"damn daddy" you giggle slightly and he can't help but giggle as well

"I fuckin love you"he says looking at you and gives you a kiss. he stands up and go to the bathroom giving you a good view of his perfect little ass, you bite your lips and seconds later he comes back with a wet towel to clean you up, he does it slowly and you can't stop looking at him.

"whatcha thinkin?" he ask throwing the towel away and you smile "just looking at you and thinking how beautiful you are" he looks at you with adoration and you can see his little dimple making it's way.

he kisses you and pulls you closer to him, resting your head on his chest and you started to draw with your fingers his tattoos.

"i think i'm no longer drunk" he blurres out after some minutes of comfortable silence and you both laugh

"yeah me too" you look at the table beside your bed and you see its 2:47am, you were a little sleepy if being honest and you could feel harry already falling asleep. You pull yourself away from him chest and rest your head besides his, having a perfect view of his beautiful face. you couldn't be lucky you think to yourself and give his nose a little kiss before trying to fall asleep yourself.

Hii! how you been?🖤 hope you liked my first harry fanfic, in tried to make it different by trying to write the accent bc i've seen people to that n I liked it so I really hope u too🤧

Don't forget you can follow me here, I post shots about tom h, timothée c, and harry as well. You can request if you like, I would appreciated. Take care, see you soon.🦕

[saviorinsilk]

Right Hand Witch

Words: 2 810

Ship: Cordelia Goode x female reader

It was a moonless night, the sky a deep pit of darkness that seemed to go on forever. I yanked the front gate open and walked up the stairs of Miss Robichaux's Academy, my relatively slow pace annoying one of the women behind me.

"Hurry up bitch!" Madison spat as she pushed past me, her designer dress soaked in the down pouring rain. I didn't pay much attention to her or her comment, my mind stuck replaying the events of tonight over and over until it made me sick. The horrible images flashed in my eyes, blinding me with pain. I had never seen that much blood in my life and smell of his breath still lingered in my nostrils. I desperately craved the heavenly scent of Cordelia's perfume, her aroma had always calmed me and right now I could use a bottle of it. Madison left the front door open and Queenie and I walked through as she shook her head, the water spraying everywhere. The short walk from the taxi to the house had left us drenched. I lazily kicked my flats off, each one falling perfectly beside the other, on the grey shoe match. I made no effect to get any of the water off me, making a mess was truly the last thing on mind. I just wanted to crawl into bed with my sweet Delia and snuggle my face into her glorious blonde hair, the floral scent of her shampoo coaxing me to sleep.

As Queenie shut the door, I hung up my soaked black jacket as well as my matching hat on the brass coat holder and I started down the hallway. I squeezed my eyes shut, cursing under my breath as Misty came darting down the large staircase, the panic in her filling the air. I had wished that I could have just pretended that tonight hadn't happened but Misty knew and if Misty knew, she knew too.

"Oh, Darlin come here!" Misty cried as she slammed into me, knocking the wind out of me in the process. Her warm arms held me tightly to her heaving chest and she planted a big kiss on my forehead.

"I'm so glad you're okay. I don't know what I would have done if something had happened to you." Misty sniffled through tears. I hugged her back, melting into the silky material of her shawl and was about to tell her that I was fine when the loud clicks of high heels sounded down the stairs and my heart sank. I had never felt as connected to another human being as I felt to Cordelia Goode. In some circumstances, it was a joyous gift. Our intimate moments were like something out of fantasy but when either of us was in despair, this gift of ours sent aches through the heart and soul of the other. Tonight Cordelia's heart was breaking and I felt it more intensely than I had ever felt anything, good or bad.

I squeezed my eyes closed, still hidden from her sight in Misty's hair, I knew this peaceful moment wouldn't last for long.

"Miss Cordelia was so worried about you Y/N. She had a vision. She saw him kill you." Misty whispered in my ear. I didn't want to let go of my best friend, I knew I had messed up tonight and being aware of how much agony I had caused Cordelia made me even more ashamed.

I finally faced the facts and I pulled away from Misty and glanced over her shoulder. Cordelia reached the bottom of the stairs at that moment and I took her image in. She was in her long, light pink robe, the cream nightgown she wore underneath poking through the bottom. Her hair was messy at the front and her beautiful pale face was red and puffy from the numerous tears she had cried over me. If it had a cheerful moment I would have chuckled at the black high heels she wore. No matter what time it was, or was state she herself was in, Cordelia always liked to look presentable and even though it was late into the night, she walked towards me with them on. I could imagine her saying to me something along the lines of, "What if one of the girls got up for water and saw me? I got to make sure they always feel safe and secure, even if I'm falling apart."

Since it wasn't a time for laughs and giggles, I look at my hands, avoiding her eye contact. I normally wasn't like this. I stood up for myself no matter who was against me and I always challenged Cordelia, even if it got under her skin sometimes. Right now though, I watched as I fiddled with my fingers nervously, every ounce of fight I had left in me vanished with the sight of her mournful eyes.

The room filled with silence and Cordelia simply nodded at the others. I heard their footsteps carry them up the stairs and into their bedrooms. Misty ran her hand gently up and down my arm, trying to offer what little comfort she could. After a few agonizing moments that seem to last a lifetime, Cordelia's voice sliced through the silence, sorrow laced with her words.

"Misty dear, could you please give me and Y/N a moment alone?" As she asked she disappeared into the living room and I was genuinely surprised. I had thought she would run to embrace me, as I would have with it had been her stumbling in from a storm late at night. As Misty pulled away, giving me a sympathetic smile as she left, I was filled with dread. Delia had just walked away without a word to me and the only time she ever did that was when she was angry. I gulped and somehow convinced myself to follow her into the open area of the room in which she was in.

There she was, standing in front of the fireplace, which was light on the cool rainy night. I stepped closer to Cordelia, as she wiped her cheeks free of tears, sniffling loudly.

"Delia, baby I'm so s-" She cut me off with a booming voice before I could properly apologize.

"HOW COULD YOU!? I have told you over and over again that I don't want to you going to Bourbon Street at night! Not only did you go there, but you also left and went off on your own!" Cordelia's anger shook me to the bones and my bright blue eyes welled up with tears. I knew I deserved whatever she was going to give to me but what I really needed her to do was to hold me, to feel her skin against mine.

"I know. I was stupid. Queenie and Madison wanted to go out and get a drink. I told you were just going just out for a late dinner because I know you worry so much and I really didn't think anything would happen. I just wanted to save you so stress. I left the bar because I was really hungry and all they had there were super spicy wings and you know I hate spicy food. There was a diner across the street and down a few blocks so I went to just get some friends and an ice tea." I tried to explain but as the fiery only grew in my women dark eyes I cursed in my mind, wishing I had left out the part of me not wanting her to worry.

"YOU DIDN'T WANT ME TO WORRY!?" She shouted. I knew half the house was awake by now and I wished I could punch myself for the idiotic act I had committed. Cordelia never got this mad, never even raised her voice much at Madison. I had awakened the beast deep in this beautiful creature.

"I thought you were dead Y/N. I watched that hunter silt your throat as he laughed, but I couldn't do anything about it because your mind was blocked from me because of his voodoo relict." Fresh tears streamed down her sunken face and I had to fight back the urge to stroke them gently away with my thumb.

"I'm sorry Delia I-" I tried to say but once again Cordelia interrupted me as if she hadn't heard my timid voice at all.

"You risked your life for fries? Fries, really Y/N? I'm sure one of the girls would have gone with you if you were really that hungry. You shouldn't have even been there in the first place. When are you going to start listening to me instead of Madison? All this time you're spending with her is causing her bad traits to start to rub off on you." She spat, her voice shaky with dark emotions. She knew that would hurt me but she wasn't holding anything back. Something went off in my head at that moment. I was nothing like Madison and no amount of time spent with that spoilt, ungrateful witch was going to change that. As anger pumped through my veins, my eyes darkened and with a pulse of energy that shot from me like a bullet, the flames inside the fireplace soar to impossible heights, it roaring loudly. Cordelia's furious expression shattered and her eyes flickered for me to the flames my anger had caused.

"I am nothing like that inconsiderate bitch. I left because I was uncomfortable staying where I was. Some drunk asshole groped my ass and pushed me against the bloody wall when I was trying to find my way from the bathroom back to our table. I begged the girls to leave, telling them what happened but Madison just blew me off, saying maybe a good dicking would turn me straight. Queenie was too busy talking to one of the guys that Madison had dragged over to our table while I was gone. I wasn't going to stay there, plus because of their new "friends", there wasn't even a chair for me anymore. I had seen the diner when we arrived, so I figured it was a good option for me. You know how I get when I'm mad. I can't control my abilities as well as you Cordelia. I told them where I was going and they said they would come to pick me up when they were done. I got there fine but when I reached for the door that's when he grabbed me. There were people around, I should have been fine but as he dragged me down the back ally, no one even looked our way." I stopped speaking and held my hand to my mouth as a soft sob broke through. I couldn't stop the tears now and they flooded my face like a city below a broken levy.

All traces of anger vanished from Cordelia's face at that moment. She hated seeing me cry, even if she knew I deserved the self-loathing I was putting myself through. I took a few steps towards the couch and I lowered myself down to it with shaky legs. I hadn't noticed how cold I was until now, it felt like the chill had eaten away at my flesh.

Cordelia moved quickly, grabbing a white plush towel that was draped over the armchair that sat beside the couch. She wrapped it around me snuggly but gently and practically fell to her knee in front of me. Her slender hands cupped my flushed cheeks, running her thumb along my cool skin in a soothing circular motion. I sighed at the contact and leaned into her touch.

"I know I should have listened to you. I wasn't thinking. I never am. I thought I was going to die." I frantically apologized. My lips were silenced by Cordelia warm, soft set of lips. Her lips were wet with salty tears and they slid against mine wonderfully. The desperation we were both feeling poured out in that kiss and my breath was taken away as Cordelia kissed me as if it were the last time she ever could. Which was probably something that earlier in the night she thought she would never get to do again. This kiss spelled that out as clear as day. When she pulled back, she wiped my tears under my eyes again with her thumb, gazing lovingly into my eyes.

"I know you are. I'm sorry for losing my temper. I just never thought I was going to see you again." She spoke, her voice hitching when she got the words that caused her the most pain. I brought my hand up to her face and I wiped her tears as well, my fingers sliding over them like a hot knife on butter.

"You are my everything Y/N. I couldn't go on without you. Death would be better." She cried. I shook my head and kissed her softly again.

"Shh my Delia, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere I promise," I mumbled against her pale rose plump lips that I so desperately wanted to devourer with mine once more.

"Are you hurt? What did that bastard do to you?" She asked, pulling back. She began tracing every inch of my exposed skin with her eyes, searching for injuries. When they settled on the superficial cut that ran across my neck her expression dropped, her brows furrowing. She traced it with her finger and she opened her mouth slightly, her eyes fluttering closed.

I felt the wound begin to tingle and I knew without seeing it that the cut that had once circled my neck was gone. Since Cordelia had become the Supreme there was no lid to contain her jaw of powers. If she could imagine it, it happened. She looked up at me once more and I gazed back at her as I spoke.

"If it wouldn't have been for Queenie feeling someone was wrong and coming to look for me, the slice would have a crimson stump." I shivered at the thought. "She made sure he died in the exact way he had been ordered to kill me. She had brought a knife from the bar with her and she slit her own throat but instead of her own blood flowing it was his." I had heard about what Queenie could do but I had never experienced it with my own eyes and as satisfying as it had been too see the hunter bleed out from wounds she inflicted on herself, I had never had a strong stomach. After I puked my guts out we jumped in a taxi and left, the crime scene being noticed by none of the drunk crowd that litters the street.

"I'm so grateful she was there," Cordelia whispered, pressing her forehead against mine. After a moment and intimate kiss, Cordelia had laid me down on the lush couch beneath us and had lowered herself down as well so that I was cuddled between the back of the couch and her. Her body protecting me from the world. The towel still covered me and as we laid there, her fingers caressed my face and slowly ran through my tangly hair. The heat from the fire was reaching us easily and the warmth from it, plus the warmth radiating from her body, left me warm and dry a few hours later.

As my eyes struggled to stay open, sleep trying to seduce them, Cordelia kissed me slow and gently, pulling back slightly so she could look into my dazed eyes.

"I couldn't be Supreme without you by my side." She whispered sweetly, her voice relaxing any tense muscles in me that had held on.

"Your my right-hand woman," Cordelia said with a smile. I couldn't help but shoot her a toothy grin as I came up with something better in my head.

"I'm your right-hand witch," I stated with a giggle. Cordelia rolled her eyes at me, scoffing but no matter how hard she had tried to hold a smile back she couldn't and she chuckled softly, and a gorgeous smile spread across her now calm face.

"Right-hand witch. I can't believe no one has thought of that" She said in a hushed voice. Cordelia Goode plastered me with gentle kisses all over my neck, chest, forehead and then finally my lips.

That night I drifted off to dreamland snuggled into Cordelia, the floral scent from her hair filling my nose as I buried it in her warm chest. Safe and loved, right where I knew I needed to be and no dream that night, or any night, in fact, would ever be as sweet as the life I would wake up to tomorrow.

To the women who loved me.

💖Tumblr Tag List💖

@misssofiacatherinepaulson

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@make--your--life--spectacular

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@mssallymckenna

[extratragic]

relapse (2)

pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

warning: underage drug/alcohol use, addiction, major breakdown

word count: 1813

summary: you’d been home for two weeks, completely clean, until one party ruins it. 

“Where are you going?” Topper asked. 

“To get food, Top. Not all of us just drink through these things,” you told him, walking away before he could find a way to stop you. 

Heyward and his son were standing behind the table they had set up. Seeing the two of them here was normal, but now there was a blonde boy standing behind the grill. He was cute with his black cap keeping his hair out of his face and the white shirt bringing out his blue eyes. 

“Hey, Pope,” you said, smiling at him.

“Oh, um- uh, hi, y/n,” he smiled nervously. 

You laughed lightly and looked over at Heyward, grinning. 

“Hello, y/n. Can we do anything for you?” He asked. 

“I was actually going to offer to take this plate up there. We’re running out,” you told him.

“Shit. I’ll get it. Thank you for telling me,” he sighed. 

“Of course,” I nodded. 

Heyward took the large plate, one you knew damn well that you couldn’t carry. Even though what you told him was true, the plate up at the buffet was running low, but that’s not the real reason why you came over. The blonde boy caught your attention. 

“Hi, I’m y/n,” you told him. 

He looked up at you, confused. Why was a Kook talking to him? 

“That’s JJ. One of my friends,” Pope told you. 

“He’s almost as cute as you,” you whispered to Pope. 

Pope laughed and JJ looked offended and also surprised that there was a Kook making jokes with a Pogue and not about a Pogue. He liked it. 

You stayed by them for almost the entire night, even dragging them away one at a time to dance with them. Heyward only let you pull them away for one dance, though. He wasn’t about to admit how much he enjoyed seeing the two boys having fun at a place they hated. 

--

“JJ, seriously, touch my ass one more time and I’m gonna hit you with this board,” you threatened. 

“Just trying to help you get the right form,” he laughed.

JJ had been trying to help you learn how to surf for the last week. Pope tried to teach you first, but everyone knew that JJ would be the only one to handle your attitude and be somewhat patient with you. 

“Come on, man. It’s been a week. You should have this down by now,” he groaned. 

“Oh, I do. I just like having your hands on me,” you said casually. 

He chuckled and shook his head, lightly hitting your side. 

“Maybe I just like having my hands on you,” he replied. 

--

“You’re high as hell, y/n,” JJ sighed.

“You’re always high, JJ. Don’t even try that bullshit with me,” you snapped. 

“Are you kidding me? You snorted fucking cocaine. Weed and coke are completely different!” JJ yelled. 

You rolled your eyes and laid your head back on the couch. It had been three weeks since the first party that Topper convinced you to do a line. JJ was sick of you acting like your brother and Rafe, and this was probably your third fight over it already. 

“If you only came here to fight, then you can leave, JJ,” you told him. 

The next time you saw JJ was when he broke up with you. 

--

It had been almost two weeks since you got home. Almost every day was spent with Sarah and the small group of Pogues. Sarah and John B were adorable together, and Sarah said the same thing about you and JJ. 

You and JJ hadn’t had that talk, but the two of you had been very touchy since you got home. 

He was adorably careful around you, too. No smoking or drinking allowed near you, no mention of it, and not even hinting at it. He even left his Juul and blunts at John B’s house, hidden from sight. You’d told him a million times that it was okay if they did those things around you. Sure, you were called an alcoholic at rehab, but that’s not what got you in there. 

A little weed wasn’t going to send you straight back to rehab, especially if you weren’t the one smoking it. You got the group to relax after a week, but they still wouldn’t smoke around you. Pope was always the only sober one with you, and the others would drink beer that one of them brought for the day. 

But now you were going through the ultimate test of sobriety. 

Yes, you should’ve waited a lot longer than two weeks, but you wanted to have fun like a normal teenager with your friends. 

So, you went to a Kook party. 

JJ swore to stay sober and by your side the entire night. He even promised to not beat Rafe’s ass. (cause he may have already done it right after you left a year ago)

But then you lost him. 

JJ went to the bathroom while you were talking to some of your old friends after promising that he’d be back in less than two minutes. Those friends didn’t used to be involved in Rafe’s cocaine operation, but apparently, they were now. While you thought that you were just catching up with them, they were bringing you to the room where Rafe, Kelce, and a lot of other people were sitting around a glass table. 

You saw the lines on the table with rolled-up money and small baggies with more coke in it and you tried to leave, but everything was spinning. 

“Sit down, y/n. You need to chill out,” one of the girls, Kaylee, told you. 

“I should go. I can’t be here,” you said, shaking your head. 

They laughed like you had told them a joke and sat beside you, keeping you on the couch. You didn’t know how the hell you suddenly felt like you just drank an entire bottle of vodka when all you’d had that night was the strawberry juice that you’d jokingly put in a flask and water. 

“What did you do?” You choked out. 

“Just relax and have fun, y/n. Do a line,” Kaylee told you.

You tried to stand up but your body felt heavy and weak, and Kaylee holding down on your arm was no help. Jazmine, another girl beside you, gently pushed your head down until you were hovering over a little white line on the table. 

“Stop, please,” you cried, trying to push her away. 

“Just one time and you’ll love us after,” they coaxed. 

Kaylee pushed one of your nostrils shut and you closed your eyes tightly, wondering why the hell no one was trying to stop this. 

“She’s not doing it. Lay her head back,” Kaylee snapped. 

Jazmine pulled you back so you were leaning back against the couch with your head rolled back. Someone put their hand over your mouth and while you were trying to breathe through your nose, it hurt. 

It burned, and then you felt a rush of adrenaline. But you knew better than to let it go further. 

You pushed the hands away from you as hard as you could manage and bent over, your face in your hands as the tears kept falling. 

“Glad your back,” Rafe said. 

“You fucking dick! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” 

“Hey, y/n, look at me. Open your eyes,” Sarah told you.

JJ was screaming at Rafe and Sarah was on her knees in front of you. “What happened?” She asked. 

“They drugged me,” you cried. 

“Kaylee?” She asked. 

You nodded and she stood up, yelling for Kie. Before you knew it, you were outside and at John B’s van with Pope. You’d stopped crying by then and you felt fucking great. Subconsciously, you knew that you shouldn’t give in. You should throw up, drink water, do anything to flush this out of your system, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

You felt numb for the first time in a year. 

“I’m gonna go back in,” you told Pope. 

“No you’re not,” he said, pulling you back to him. 

“You’re not the boss of me, Pope,” you snapped. 

“I don’t give a damn. Get in the van,” he told you.

You shoved Pope away and turned around, walking towards the house again. He kept yelling at you and every time he’d grab your arm, you would shove him off and threaten that you would scream. You made it to the table of drinks when JJ grabbed your arm and ignored how you yelled at him as he dragged you out. 

JJ drove the van, his bloody knuckles gripping the wheel tightly. He knew none of this was your fault. Sarah and Kie beat the hell out of Kaylee and Jazmine while JJ had beat the hell out of Rafe. It was their fault. You were okay there. You were having fun while being sober at a party, and they took advantage of you. JJ knew you were innocent, but he was still pissed. 

He was pissed that he had to take care of you like this again. He was pissed that you were high. He was pissed that the girls you trusted drugged you. He was pissed that Rafe was a douche bag. He was pissed that he broke the promise that he made to you that night.

He was pissed that he left you alone when you needed him. 

-

When you woke up the next morning, JJ was sitting at the end of the bed with his head in his hands. 

“I don’t wanna go back.”

That was the first thing you said. 

JJ was quick to move up the bed and sit beside you, pulling you to his chest. 

“Baby-” “I can’t, JJ. I’ll be careful. I’ll stay home. I’ll stay anywhere else, just please don’t make me go back,” you cried. 

He closed his eyes and held you tightly as you cried. What was he supposed to do? Rehab was the best option, but he selfishly didn’t want to lose you again. He called for Sarah and it only took a few seconds for her to run into the room.

JJ looked desperate. She sat beside you and JJ, running her fingers through your hair. 

“I can’t go back, Sarah. My mom would hate me. She wouldn’t let me come back home,” you choked out. 

“Okay, okay. It’s okay, shh,” she said calmly. “You can stay at my house. We can work on this together. Your mom doesn’t need to know anything.”

“Seriously?” JJ asked. 

He was shocked that Sarah would just accept that you didn’t want to go back. But Sarah knew how hard your mom was on you and Topper, so she thought of their best option to keep it quiet. 

“I’m so sorry, JJ,” you whimpered. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay, baby. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he told you. 

It felt true while he was holding you so tight.

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: Back At You (Butch/Buttercup)

A T-rated Greens one shot I did for our resident gothic heroine @avesthetea over on AO3! 💚

A heartfelt shoutout to the Instagram clown cult. Y’all know who you are and how much you inspire me to chronicle Brick’s eternal suffering in new and creative ways. It’s what we do.

Summary: When Buttercup's birthday planning falls apart at the last minute, the last person she would ever expect offers his help (or horror, depending on your perspective).

xxx

Buttercup’s phone buzzed on the nightstand by her head, and she jerked awake. Swallowing the bitter sleep taste, she wiped her mouth and fumbled for the phone. Head still buried in the pillow, she answered: “What time is it?”

“Time to get your ass to the precinct,” said Ty, her partner at the Citiesville Police Department. “Chief Foolery’s all hands meeting starts in twenty minutes. Tell me you’re not still asleep.”

Buttercup sprang up on her elbows and checked the time on her phone. Shit, she was going to be late. “Shit, I’m going to be late!”

“Girl, that’s what I’m tellin’ you—”

“Gotta go, bye!” Buttercup hung up the phone and would have launched out of bed if not for the arm that slipped around her waist and pulled her back down.

“Five more minutes,” Butch grumbled.

Buttercup lost her balance and ended up with her bare back flush against his equally bare chest. His breath was hot on the back of her neck where he pushed his nose among her loose black hair. “Butch, I have to go,” she said in a warning tone.

He chuckled, and it sent a thrill of heat down her spine and under the covers, where he pushed a knee between her thighs. “Why go when you could come?” The arm he’d looped around her waist traveled low beneath the sheets.

Buttercup groaned at his crass joke and caught his wrist before he could carry out the threat. “Because if I’m not at CPD headquarters in twenty minutes, Foolery’s going to pop a hemorrhoid—”

Butch flipped them over with his Super speed, and her back hit the mattress beneath him. He loomed over her, those green eyes acid-bright in the early morning sunlight streaming through his bedroom window. Her traitorous gaze raked up his chest, over the shadow of stubble on his jaw, and settled on those fast darkening eyes as he admired her in turn. But the moment he bent down to kiss her, she slipped out from under him in a flash of green and darted across the room. In a matter of seconds, she’d pulled out a spare change of clothes from the lone dresser drawer he’d cleared out for her use.

“Leaving me hangin’? For real?” Butch complained as he flopped back down among the sheets with a yawn.

“You’ll live. But I won’t if I’m late for this fuckery.” She dressed quickly in dark jeans and a button-up blouse before heading to the connecting bathroom Butch shared with his daughter, Brisa.

“Missin’ out!” Butch called from the bedroom.

Yeah, Buttercup thought as she combed through the tangles in her hair with her fingers and ran the water to brush her teeth. A knock on the door interrupted her morning ablutions, and Brisa entered through her bedroom door.

“G’morning,” she said. Her brown hair was a frizzy mess, and she clutched a stuffed purple Pretty Puff Pony under one arm.

Despite her haste to get out of there and jet to work, Buttercup spared the little girl a soft smile. “Morning, kid. You’re up early.”

Brisa grinned wide. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Buttercup’s smile fell immediately. “Did Butch sneak you that second chocolate bar after dinner last night? Goddamnit—Butch!”

“What, change your mind?” he called. “I knew you couldn’t leave before climbing my morning wood.”

Brisa made a face like she was going to ask, and Buttercup slammed Butch’s bedroom door shut. “Never mind. Let me guess, you were too excited to sleep because today’s your birthday, right?”

Brisa blinked up at her and smiled, her questions forgotten. “Yeah! Oh my gosh, we’re gonna have so much fun!”

Buttercup chuckled and ruffled her messy hair. “For sure. But first, I have to go to work.”

“You’ll be back for my party, right?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Pinky promise?” Brisa held out her little finger.

Buttercup hooked her pinky around Brisa’s. “I promise. Now go get dressed and brush your teeth. I’ll check on your dad.”

“Okay!”

Buttercup breezed through the bedroom, chucked Butch his sweat pants with a cautionary “Hide your dick,” and flew out of her paramour’s two-bedroom apartment in downtown Townsville just as Brisa came bursting in excited to start the day.

xxx

The morning was a complete waste of time, and a bitter part of Buttercup lamented not skipping out in favor of staying in bed with Butch.  

“Well, at least nobody died today,” Ty said as he and munched on his doner kebab lunch to go. “Yet.”

Buttercup sucked down half of a water bottle after scarfing down her own lunch. They had stopped at the food truck parked a couple blocks from the precinct, opting for a quick fix as they watched oblivious pedestrians lost to their Air Pods. “Welcome back to active duty, Mr. Brightside.”

Ty chuckled, low and deep. After a few months of healing and rigorous physical therapy, his legs were completely healed and he’d finally been cleared for work that didn’t involve pushing papers at his desk. Once more standing tall with the sun shining off his bald head, Buttercup could not have been happier to have her partner back to his old self by her side.

“You bring it outta me.” Ty winked.

“You ready to head out?” she asked, tossing her wrapper in a corner trashcan. Traffic was shit as usual midday on a Saturday, but they had time before Brisa’s party was slated to start.

“Sure. Lemme just text Melanie.”

Buttercup figured she better catch up with Butch while she waited for Ty and make sure he was on the ball.

[Buttercup: Did you pick up the cake?]

After a few seconds, he replied.

[Butch: Omw with B. You still on clown duty?]

Buttercup groaned at the reminder.

[Buttercup: Can I just say he died and couldn’t make it?]

[Butch: Sure, if you want to crush B’s hopes and dreams 💔😈]

“Kill me.”

“What’s wrong now?” Ty asked.

Buttercup pocketed her phone and led the way to the precinct parking lot where Ty’s car was parked. “Just grappling with some casual childhood trauma coming back to bite me in the ass.”

Ty side-eyed her. “Which one?”

“Ha ha.”

They made it to his red hatchback, and Buttercup slipped into the passenger seat.

“This about Brisa’s birthday party?” Ty asked.

Buttercup groaned again and tugged at her loose hair. “Of all the things, a clown? I thought they were universally considered nightmare fodder for kids these days.”

“Speakin’ of which, I think I remember a psychotic clown attacking Townsville back in the day.”

“You remember correctly.” Buttercup glowered out the window as Ty eased them into traffic toward the Golden Bay Bridge. “But it was the one thing she said she just had to have because some other dumb kid in her class got one for her party.”

“Ah. Six years old and already the social food chain’s tuggin’ on her.”

“Whatever. I never cared about that shit when I was a kid.”

Ty smiled to himself. “Uh-huh.”

Buttercup resigned herself to her unfortunate fate and dialed the company she’d previously contracted to rent a clown for the afternoon. After about five minutes on the phone, she hung up.

“What was that all about?” Ty asked. “Problem?”

Buttercup stared straight ahead as the Golden Bay Bridge’s suspender cables passed her by. “The clown died.”

Ty laughed.

“Ty.” Buttercup looked directly at him. “The guy got hit by a bus on his way to work today and he died.”

Ty shut up. “Oh, uh… Shit.”

A pause.

“I mean, is there another clown, or…?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Buttercup snapped. All she could think of was how Brisa was going to be so upset that the one goddamned thing she had asked for wasn’t going to happen because there was no time to book a new party clown on such short notice on a Saturday.

When Ty shifted in his seat, the leather squeaked loudly in the fuming silence he wisely chose not to break, until he did. “So, should I—”

“Just drive. I’ll think of something…” Buttercup said as she pulled out her phone and tried not to completely lose her shit as she dialed the one person who always seemed to know what to do in a crisis.

“Hey, Blossom,” Buttercup said gravely after her sister picked up. “I think I need some help.”

xxx

When Buttercup and Ty parked in front of her childhood home, guests had already begun arriving. Bubbles was outside greeting people and directing them to the backyard for the festivities. When she spotted Buttercup and Ty, she waved. “Hey, there you are!”

“Have you seen Blossom?” Buttercup asked.

Bubbles pushed up the sleeves of her chunky lavender sweater and looked around. “I think she and Princess were setting up the piñata. Is everything okay—”

Buttercup dashed to the backyard in a blaze of green, leaving Ty to make his way inside at a more sedate pace. The backyard was already teeming with people. Brisa was playing tag with her best friend Richie and a few other kids, while Boomer stacked presents on a table by the back door. Mike and Robin led the day drinking charge by pouring out sangria for the adults and juice for the kids. Buttercup nearly crashed through the green tissue streamers criss-crossing the enclosed backyard in her haste to locate her sister, who was in fact stringing up a red monster-shaped piñata with Princess Morbucks. Or rather, Blossom was doing all the work while Princess held two glasses of bloody sangria and provided live commentary.

“Whoever invented piñatas had the right idea is all I’m saying,” Princess said as she sipped her drink. She was annoyingly chic as usual in designer jeans, dark boots, and a purple silk blouse that probably cost more than the pittance Buttercup’s government paycheck brought in every month.

“You think so?” Blossom said, floating near a high branch so she could toss the suspension rope over it.

“Of course. You’re rewarded with candy for smashing the shit out of your mortal enemy. What could be better than that?”

Blossom grinned. “Mortal enemy in effigy.” She patted the red monster’s snout. “But you’re not wrong.”

“Obviously.” Princess handed her back her sangria, and they shared a knowing laugh.

“Blossom,” Buttercup said.

Blossom smoothed the front of her navy skirt as she turned toward Buttercup. “You’re here. Everything all right?”

Buttercup eyed Princess watching them. “I was going to ask you the same thing. Any progress on the clown front?”

“I’m sorry, the what?” Princess asked.

Blossom’s pink eyes softened, and she put a hand on Buttercup’s shoulder. “I took care of it, don’t worry.”

“Wait, really? How? I called five other rental companies, but everything’s booked solid.”

Blossom’s smile turned devious. “Trust me. Brisa’s going to be very pleased.” Buttercup wanted to argue, but her sister squeezed her shoulder in a silent entreaty. “Just enjoy the party. Boomer, Bubbles, and I have everything under control.”

“Speaking of control,” Princess had her phone out when Blossom turned back to her, “where is that prima donna? He’s not answering any of my texts.”

“Brick’s running a little late,” Blossom said as she led Princess away. “Wardrobe malfunction…”

Their voices faded to the background as Buttercup watched them. Two peas in a fucking pod, and she still didn’t really get what Blossom saw in Princess. If Princess hadn’t played such an integral part in things a couple months back, she would never have given the woman a second thought beyond “Hard pass.”

People, however, had a tendency to surprise when it was down to the wire.

“Heads up, Buttercup!”

Buttercup automatically caught the child hurtling through the air like a tossed water balloon before he could crack his head open.

“O-Oh! Hi, Buttercup,” said Richie, meek and curled in on himself like he’d forgotten he was no longer fragile.

Brisa came dashing over. “Nice catch!”

Buttercup peeled Richie off her and dropped him flat on his ass in the grass. “Brisa, don’t yeet your friends. Bubbles will have an aneurism if she catches you.”

Brisa blushed, abashed. “Sorry…”

Buttercup cracked a smile and winked, and Brisa lit up.

“I’m okay!” Richie, Super resilient, hopped onto his feet and shook out his fluffy blond hair. “Um, does this mean I’m ‘it’ now?”

“No, I wanna play with the clown!” Brisa announced.

Buttercup’s face fell. “Uh, about that…”

Brisa blinked up at her. “He’s coming to my party, right?”

The flicker of doubt that passed through Brisa’s big brown eyes cracked Buttercup’s cold stone heart. She struggled for the words to let her down gently, because whatever Blossom had managed to put together so last minute wasn’t going to be the colorful surprise Buttercup had gone out of her way to book and customize a month in advance.

A round of squeals from the other kids across the yard drew her attention, where they had gathered around Mike at the garden door. “Okay, settle down, kiddos! He’s a little shy. Now, where’s the birthday girl at? Hey, Brisa!”

“C’mon, Brisa, let’s go,” Richie said, tugging on her hand.

But she held her ground and didn’t budge. Buttercup wanted to die.

“Brisa, look,” she began.

The door behind Mike slid open, and out stepped what Buttercup could only describe as her personal revenge fantasy gone morbidly wrong. Brick had never looked so sour in his life.

“Oh! Uh, ta-da!” Mike said hastily as he stepped aside for the person formerly known as Brick until his murder by dishonor.

His steps squeaked in his oversized red shoes, and the striped red and yellow overalls he wore over a polkadot shirt ballooned out at his legs. He looked like a tropical bowling pin. He looked fucking absurd.

“It’s Flameo Hotman! Say hello, kids,” Mike said.

Brick shot Mike a scathing glare that may have incinerated him where he stood if the tiny party hat and enormous red clown nose didn’t ruin the effect. “The hell it is.”

Buttercup had no problem averting her eyes from the literal clownery to focus on Brisa, who was still staring and petrified. Oh shit, oh fuck, she was upset and it was Buttercup’s entire fault—

“Uncle Brick?” Brisa blurted out.

Brick’s lurid eyes passed over Buttercup and landed on Brisa. If Buttercup hadn’t been looking right at him, she would never have believed the way they softened just a little. He pursed his lips and lifted his elastic-tied party hat off his short red hair. It snapped back in place when he let go. “Happy birthday, Brisa.”

Brisa immediately dashed out of Richie’s grip in a sprint too fast to be human and body slammed Brick where he stood. With a grunt, he managed to catch her and keep his balance as she hugged him tight around his inflated waist and laughed. “You look so funny!”

Brick coughed. “Yeah, that’s sort of the point…”

The other kids took that as their cue to also mob Brick, and soon he was adrift in a sea of grubby hands and demands for balloon animals and magic tricks. Buttercup could not believe her eyes. She could hardly remember the last time she saw Brick dressed anything other than to the nines, and now…

“Fuck me,” she wheezed, too stunned even to laugh, it was that heinous.

“Pretty good, huh?” Bubbles sidled up to her with a wrapped present for Brisa under her arm.

Buttercup swallowed hard. She didn’t trust her voice as she watched Brick—Brick—snap at Brisa’s friends to line up in an orderly fashion if they wanted their faces painted, and no cutting the line or there would be consequences.

“The costume’s a little janky, but I didn’t have a lot of notice when Blossom told me we needed something colorful for him to wear,” Bubbles went on.

“Why?” Buttercup croaked. She turned to her baby sister, who seemed totally nonchalant existing in a universe where the selfish clown Blossom had chosen to keep for reasons Buttercup could not sympathize with deigned to dress as a literal fucking clown.

Bubbles slipped her hand in Buttercup’s and squeezed affectionately as they watched Brick paint the requested unicorn on Richie’s face as seriously as if it were a goddamned Monet. “I think this is his way of trying,” she said.

Buttercup would never forget that day two months ago when Butch asked her to come over after Brick had broken down and apologized to Boomer and him and all he wanted to do was break something, to feel it shatter in his hands, so why not her, who couldn’t break? That fight had been one of their most brutal, even compared to their rows in high school in the throes of raging hormones exacerbated by Chemical X.

They hadn’t spoken as they rinsed the dirt and sweat from each other after—Buttercup had been worried about setting him off again after he had settled into some sort of quiet serenity with his fingers in her hair, pulling the tangles out under the warm water like an artist honing his craft. Those hands were always working, always looking for something to crush.

“You ever love someone, but you don’t like them?” he’d asked her as she wrung the water from her hair and he stared at his hollow-eyed reflection in the mirror.

Buttercup was pulled from the memory when Blossom came out of the house to snap pictures on her phone of the kids with their painted faces, a bright smile on her face as Brick continued to ignore the entire world and focus on his task with surprisingly minimal complaint. Buttercup supposed that if anyone could dress like an ass-backwards buffoon and maintain some pretense of dignity, it was Brick.

“Yeah, I guess,” she said at length. She squeezed Bubbles’ hand back.

He’s trying something, all right.

xxx

“I want a dog, please!” asked a snot-nosed kid inexplicably dressed in a full dinosaur suit.

Butch watched Brick from the picnic table he’d plopped down on with a cold beer and three entire pizza boxes set aside entirely for Boomer and himself.

Brick frowned so deeply he looked like he was trying to pass a hardened turd. Wordless, he blew up a long red balloon, tied it off at the end, and handed it to the little boy. “Here.”

The kid accepted the unfolded balloon with quizzical look. “Huh? This isn't a dog.”

“Yeah, it is,” Brick said. “It’s a hot dog.”

“But that’s not what I asked—hey!” The kid squealed when Brick squirted him with water from the rubber flower on his overall strap.

“Next,” Brick said in a tone that promised medieval torture.

Cowed, the dinosaur kid slumped away with his shitty balloon, and the next little girl in line made her request.

“It had to be a bet,” Butch said grimly as he watched his brother pawn a “magic wand” on the little girl who asked for a monkey. She trudged off with the unfolded purple balloon and look in her eyes like she’d seen the hidden darkness of this world.

Boomer shrugged and swallowed a bite of pizza. He had his back to Brick, but he spared a glance over his shoulder. “I don’t know.”

“I mean, he’s gotta know the pictures will live on forever. This is unlimited blackmail.”

That got a little chuckle out of Boomer. Butch ruffled his bangs too roughly to be entirely affectionate, and Boomer swatted him away. “Dude, my hair.”

“Want me to get you a balloon dick?”

Boomer’s gaze flickered to him, and for a moment Butch was transported back twenty years to Mojo’s Observatory. He and Boomer were sometimes left by themselves while Mojo and Brick tinkered in the old man’s lab well into the night with nothing to do and no one to talk to but each other. On nights like that, Butch didn’t really mind it when Boomer crawled into his bunk and fell asleep there. The room always felt a little colder and darker without Brick there.

“I’m fine,” Boomer said.

Butch searched his eyes, blue and expressive and always shining like he might cry or laugh. He had always envied Boomer that ability to project, to offer a connection, even if it was only pain. He’d always been good at that.

“Really,” Boomer added, hardening his gaze like a fucking mind reader. “I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.” Butch wondered how long it would take for that to be true. “You know, it’s been a couple months—”

“Butch,” Boomer said, cold like he never was.

Butch hopped off the table and put a hand on Boomer’s shoulder. “It’s been a couple months, but it’s not a race. There’s no finish line to cross.”

Boomer chuckled, but it sounded kind of like a wheeze. His hand was cool on Butch’s where he squeezed him. “Thanks, Butch.”

Butch patted his back. As he was leaving, heard Boomer call, “Make mine blue.”

Butch chuckled. “Sure.”

Fucking sap.

At least Butch wasn’t the only one.

He made his way to the terrace, where Brick was set up with balloons and the face painting station. When Brick noticed his brother waiting in line, the balloon he was inflating went up in flames and disintegrated to ashes, leaving him looking as flushed as his stupid clown nose.

“I’m out of balloons, kids. Go dig a hole or something,” he said to the remaining two children.

“Huh? But there’s a whole bag—” one little boy with enormous glasses started to say.

Brick fired his laser eye beams at the bag of balloons and blew it up. “What bag?”

The kids stalked off in a sulk, and Butch sauntered up to the chair Bubbles had brought out from the kitchen table.

“Bitch move,” he said, plopping down. “I promised Boomer I’d bring him a blue cock, made special with love.”

“Uh-huh,” Brick said. He watched Butch with those shifty red eyes like he might lash out and attack him.

Amused and a little nervous, Butch sank into the chair with much bravado and man-spreading. “Paint me like one of your French girls.”

Brick narrowed his eyes, but he picked up the paints and sat down in the opposite chair without a word, until: “What do you want?”

“I dunno, something cool. A rocket ship.”

Silence. Brick leaned in close to apply the paint with a thin brush, meticulous and anal like he was with everything he did. Butch didn’t have to see his face to know he was concentrating way too hard.

“I can feel the vibrations of you clenching your asshole from here,” Butch said. “Relax.”

“I’m relaxed.”

“Fuck off.”

Brick put down the brush. “If you keep talking, this is going to turn out shitty.”

Butch shut up. Brick resumed painting.

After a moment, Butch closed his eyes. There was something soothing about the soft scrape of the brush against his cheek. Behind his eyelids, he saw a much younger version of Brick covered in paint and grinning fiercely, king of the world, until Butch hit him with his paintball gun right in the kisser. Green paint exploded everywhere, and Boomer fell on his ass laughing. Brick angrily wiped the paint from his eyes in a goopy mess and lobbed it back at Butch, who was too far gone to care. Rolling on the grass and covered in paint, he couldn’t remember a happier afternoon spent with his brothers and Mojo. At least, not until Brisa came along.

Butch sucked in a breath as he opened his eyes and dispelled that trance-like memory. Brick didn’t even snap at him when he turned his head to look right at him. His face was pinched: his mouth too thin and his eyes too wide as he waited for another pot shot to the face.

“You look stupid,” Butch said.

“I know,” Brick said.

“Really fucking stupid.”

Brick’s eye twitched. “I know.”

“Thanks.”

Brick swallowed. “It’s her birthday.”

“Yeah, but I’m your brother. So thanks.”

It was not often that Brick was flabbergasted, but the dude looked like someone had just grabbed him by his oversized red nose. Butch burst into a sly smirk and did just that. To his sadistic satisfaction, it squeaked when he squeezed it.

“Honk honk, motherfucker,” Butch said.

It took Brick all of two seconds to ditch his bewilderment and swat Butch’s hand away. “Shit head.”

“Clown.”

To Butch’s immense surprise, Brick let him have the last word. Well, damn. He chuckled and leaned back in the chair so Brick could finish painting his cheek. Two months and he barely saw the guy on purpose, and now this.

“I’m burning every picture Blossom took today,” Brick said at length.

Butch chuckled. “You forgot about the cloud.”

“I’m burning that too.”

“Now you’re just being a whiny bitch.”

“Wipe Bubbles’ phone and I’ll pay you.”

“Eh, maybe just grab a beer sometime.” It came out so naturally that he didn’t even think about it. Brick, too, was taken aback. The more he saw it today, the less Butch liked that surprised look in his older brother’s eyes. It was fucking weird. “Seriously. It’s been a minute.”

Brick didn’t move. He didn’t even breathe. “Yeah, cool.”

“Cool.”

Cool.

“Hold on, almost done,” Brick said, and grabbed Butch’s chin to turn his face.

Butch’s eyes found Brisa running around with a large, green balloon crown on her head and her cheeks painted with rainbows, and his gaze softened. It was almost time for cake.

“Done,” Brick announced.

Before Butch could reply to that, there was a small commotion at the backyard gate with Bubbles, who followed a very short, very hairy monkey inside.

“Grandpa Mojo?” Brisa stopped playing with her friends to greet the old monkey. He had a box with a green bow on top so perfectly wrapped a department store may have done it. His arms were rigid as they held it out and Bubbles hovered just behind him, watchful.

“Good afternoon, Brisa. I have procured you a gift to celebrate, rejoice, and otherwise partake in various forms of merriment on this day of your birth, which is to say, your birthday, thus, the day you were born.”

Nearby, Blossom paused picking up trash with Robin to eye Mojo askance, nonchalant in that low key frightening I-will-blow-your-dick-off way she had. Buttercup was chatting away with Mitch Mitchelson and Clara Clearly, but she too had eyes only for Mojo.

Brisa blushed cutely, suddenly shy. “Thank you.” She accepted the gift and looked between Mojo and Bubbles. “Um, will you stay for cake?”

Mojo’s green skin turned a ghastly shade of pink. It took a Butch a moment to realize he was blushing. He was sure he had never seen Mojo blush before.

Mojo cleared his throat. “I do not eat cake,” he said with finality.

“Oh…” Brisa clutched her new gift to her chest.

“But, I suppose… I could sample a beverage while I am here. A guest ought not turn away hospitality when it is offered.”

Brisa just smiled brightly and reached for Mojo’s crusty old paw. “I have juice. Oh! And you have to stay for the piñata. Have you met Richie? He’s my best friend in the whole world!”

“I do not think—” Mojo lost his words as he was pulled along by his Super granddaughter whether he liked it or not.

“Hey.”

Brick’s hand on Butch’s shoulder exerting Super pressure made him looked down at his hands, which sparked with green power. He clenched his fists and fizzled it out.

“You good?” Brick asked, low and grave.

Butch sniffled. “Yeah, I’m good. Habit.” He paused, then: “I invited him. Boomer said it was fine.”

Brick nodded. “Okay.”

Butch’s stupid heart clenched. “I meant to text you—”

“Blossom told me. It’s fine, drop it.”

He should have dropped it. Two months ago he would have, happily. What the fuck did it matter now when it never had growing up? But that was two months ago. “Don’t fucking do that.”

Brick frosted over and got up. “Do what.”

“Hey.” Butch grabbed him by his ridiculous overalls. “You and me. No girls. Battle and beers, like the old days.”

Brick was a cold hard bastard, but even he had his cracks, and right now he broke like an egg, slack-jawed and lame.

“Tomorrow,” Butch said.

Brick nodded numbly. “Tomorrow.”

Butch smirked and got up to leave, but Brick’s voice stopped him one last time.

“Thanks, Butch.”

“Sure.”

“Tell Boomer it’s a consolation.”

“Huh?”

But he got nothing more out of Brick once Blossom and Princess showed up.

“Oh. My. God. Wait, let’s take a selfie.” Princess managed to get her arm around Brick’s neck, but he snatched her phone before she could take a picture.

“No fucking way, Princess,” he said.

Blossom grabbed his chin and kissed him right there, shameless. It was enough to distract him so Princess could reclaim her phone. “You know, I kind of like you as a clown.”

“I don’t.” Princess managed to snap a picture of Brick and Blossom. “But you’re pulling off the striped overalls, I have to say.”

“Burn that.” Brick advanced, but Blossom pulled him back with a laugh.

“Why so serious, Brick?” she teased.

Princess stuck her tongue out at him.

Butch left them to their childish shit; it was time for cake, and he had a brand new six-year-old to impress.

xxx

Buttercup was having a surprisingly good time. Between pizza with Butch and Boomer, hanging out with her sisters, and the everlasting memories that were clown Brick saved to her iCloud where he would never find them, today was turning out surprisingly well. Butch caught her eye across the yard and gestured inside, so she excused herself from the conversation with Ty and his sister to followed him.

He was in the kitchen when she found him.

“Hey, doll. Cornering me for dirty kitchen sex?” he teased.

Buttercup laughed at the sight of him, two percent bravado and ninety-eight percent imbecile. “Let me grab you a glass of water for that thirst.”

The cake he’d bought sat in a box in the fridge with Brisa’s name scribbled on the lid. Buttercup brought it out and set it on the counter. Then, she hunted for the colorful party platter Bubbles kept for special occasions.

Butch’s arms slipped around her waist from behind, and he pressed his nose to her loose hair. “Mm, you smell like pepperoni.”

“Eat my dick,” Buttercup said.

“I like it.”

“I bet you do, you horny carnivore.”

“Nooo, not the dirty talk,” he whined, pressing a kiss to her neck and pulling her back against him.

Buttercup fought against her growing smile as she opened the cake box and transferred the treat to the platter. “You need rehab.”

“If that’s your kink.”

Buttercup snorted. “Shut up and help me with this.”

They loaded up the chocolate cake on the platter, and Buttercup found the candles in a drawer.

“Got some shit on your nose,” Butch said.

“What?” He dabbed his chocolate frosted finger on the tip of her nose the moment she turned toward him, and she swatted his hand away. “Oh, come on. What are you, five?” She wiped the frosting from her nose and licked her finger clean.

No sooner had she finished than he grabbed her chin and kissed her deeply. In the quiet of the kitchen with no one around to see them, Buttercup gave into feeling and curled her fingers in his flannel shirt. When he smiled against her like the swooning buffoon he’d always been at heart, she laughed and pulled him closer.

His hands found their way over the curve of her ass, as they always did, and pulled her against him with a squeeze. “Fuck, I want you.”

“You always want me.”

“Have you seen your ass? You’d want you too.” He gave her another squeeze, and she had to bite her lip to stifle a moan.

Buttercup slipped her fingers through his hair, full and soft on top and shorn short behind the ears. For a moment, they simply stared at each other as Buttercup marveled at how much she wanted this, wanted him. She had never wanted anyone as much as she wanted him, so badly she could feel it threatening to tear her in two.

“You have all this power,” he murmured, soft like it was a precious secret he clung to.

Buttercup could have laughed at how much he underestimated his own power of her. “Back at you.”

“No.” He touched his forehead to hers and breathed like they finally had time. “Not like you. Not like this.” His hand moved to her waist as if to lead her in a dance. “You have me, Buttercup.”

Buttercup’s eyes burned with a foreign heat, unwelcome. Butch used to scare her when he spoke to her like this; now, she could only bite her lip and wait for the threat of tears to pass. “Back at you,” she said again, shaky and so fucking grateful.

They stayed that way a moment, in the kitchen of her childhood home with the warm smell of chocolate and the low din of the party outside, and for the first time that day, Buttercup felt the tension ease from her shoulders.

“By the way,” Butch said, his eyes still closed and his forehead still pressed against her, “I’m fucking the shit out of you when we get back to my place.”

Buttercup smirked. “Great example you’re setting for your daughter.”

“I got her new headphones with noise canceling.”

“She’s going to notice if we break the tub again.”

“There’s a hose. She can bathe with that.”

“Just pressure wash her like a truck.”

“Fast, efficient, and it’ll save on the water bill.”

“You don’t even pay for water, the landlord does.”

“Hey, I’m a good Samaritan lookin’ out for my neighbors.”

“Screw the neighbors.” Buttercup ran her fingers over his lips, down his chin to his chest, where his heart thundered under her touch. “I want you to fuck the shit out of me.”

Butch laughed hoarsely. “Maybe I should ask Boomer to take Brisa tonight.”

They parted, and Buttercup was about to tell him to grab the cake while she hunted for a knife when she finally noticed his cheek. “Did Brick do that?”

“The rocket ship? Yeah, good excuse to talk to him.”

“A rocket ship, huh?” Buttercup smiled so brightly her cheeks began to hurt. “That was nice of him.”

Butch gave her a weird look. “Whatever, we’re hanging out tomorrow. After today, I figure he can use it.”

Buttercup’s throat wrenched as she tried her best not to burst out laughing. “Don’t quote me, but he sort of saved my ass today. The other clown died.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious, he literally died.”

“Wow, party almost ruined.”

“I mean, also a man is dead.”

“Oh, shit, yeah you’re right. Sorry. I guess don’t tell Brisa.”

Buttercup rolled her eyes. “Jesus Christ. Grab that cake and don’t drop it.”

xxx

Brisa grinned to the point of bursting as everyone sang Happy Birthday to her and she blew out her candles. Cake went by in a breeze as the kids screamed about presents next. Like some hot, pink angel, Blossom took charge of the activities with Robin’s and Buttercup’s assistance and made sure the kids were thoroughly entertained so that Butch could eat his cake and watch his little girl enjoy her special day.

Now, seated on the picnic table again with Boomer and Bubbles, he dug into the slice Bubbles said she couldn’t finish.

“Hey, Butch,” Boomer said, chill.

“Yeah?” Butch asked.

“Why’s there a huge dick on your face?”

“Huh?”

On Butch’s other side, Bubbles poked his painted cheek. “It’s a very proportionate dick. Good dimensions.”

Boomer wheezed into his beer. Butch choked on his cake. At the next table over, Brick, that soggy ballsack, stood chatting with Princess Morbucks and Mike Believe still in his full clown regalia sipping sangria through a bendy straw. The moment he felt Butch’s eyes on him, he grinned maliciously around his straw.

“Motherfucker—” Butch tried to get up, but Bubbles grabbed his wrist.

“Language, Butch. There are children around,” she sang, cheerful as a fucking bell.

Butch pointed at Brick. “You—you clown!”

“Hey, that’s Flameo Hotman to you,” said Mike, with all the confidence of someone who didn’t know he was about to be drop-kicked in the face.

Princess squinted at Butch. “Is that a cock on your face?”

“It sure is,” Boomer said, mid-heart attack.

“Daddy, come hit the piñata with me!” Brisa came bounding over with a stick and a blindfold.

“Great timing, Brisa!” Bubbles shoved Butch way too hard toward his overeager daughter, and he had no choice but to accept the stick and blindfold.

“Uh, right,” he stammered, trying to reign it in. It was her birthday; Brick and his dick pic clownery could wait.

A hand on Butch’s shoulder squeezed too hard to be entirely friendly, and he turned to get a face full of said clown.

“Honk honk, motherfucker,” Brick said under his breath.

Butch raised his hand to decapitate his brother right there, but Brisa yanked him with her Super strength, and he had no choice but to let it lie.

The sight of Buttercup nearby watching him take his place at the piñata should have mollified him, but she had let him walk out of that kitchen dick pic’d, a betrayal of the highest order…and a quality prank, if he was honest.

He’d let his guard down around her.

It was his own mistake, underestimating her.

The heat of a challenge in her eyes as she watched him lift the blindfold to his eyes set fire to his blood. After all was said and done today and Butch left Brisa with Brick because fuck his fancy Saturday plans, Butch would take Buttercup’s advice and screw the neighbors. Tonight they were putting on a show.

With a self-satisfied grin, Butch lowered the blindfold, readied the stick, and imagined the red piñata was Brick in his ridiculous clown nose.

xxx

Hm, seeding the future Buttercup and Brick friendship I’ve been waiting so long to dive into for this universe? It’s more likely than you think. 👀

Thank you so much for reading! Long live the clown cult (Blossom ghostwrote this). 🤡

[mimithings97]

Mon Amour (M) - KTH

Summary: The Parisian air has a way about it. To some it’s romantic, to others a source of peace and escape. To Taehyung it spells pent up frustration, heavy balls, and much needed assistance from his girlfriend. Unfortunate for him, you won’t let him touch you. Based on this from the Drabble Game:

#22 “i know i upset you, but you haven’t sucked my dick in 5 days now”

#40 “i’m so horny right now, i couldn’t stop if i tried”

Genre: Pureeeee Smut, Domestic

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Masturbation, Dry Humping, Sex, Spitting, Foot play, Fingering, Oral (m. receiving), Squirting, Fucking FRENCH TAE!

A/N: A spontaneous little thang because @softyoongiionly royally fucked me up with the whole French Tae thing in her fic ‘La Grande Maison: A Mystery in Three Acts’. So big up to you, and as always, enjoy x

It’s the nicest day since you arrived, you’re sure of it. The sun angled just high enough and without the veil of clouds like it had been previously, that your balcony is set alight with the heat of white rays, the plants beginning to wilt in the corner because you hadn’t tended to them and your skin, in all its nakedness, goldening.

Maybe it’s the Parisian air, not that cliche romantic kind of air, but that feeling of spontaneity and carefree that has your robe strewn in the bathroom and your breast decorated in the 2pm sun. It also helped that your balcony was set high enough above the level skyline, perched a little too far to the north of the city and up a slight hill, so that your nudity falls dead to the world.

The click of the front door dispels the peace, though.

A rustle and the thump of bags in the kitchen tell you Tae’s trip to the market was more successful than yours was, but then again, your boyfriends French was on par with the native speakers who line the stalls.

“Ma chérie?”

The book that you’d left flattened and faced down, when sunbathing became more interesting, suddenly finds its way into your hands. It was a novel recommended by him, and something you promised you’d finish by the end of the day, so suddenly your eyes scan the page as though you’re immersed in the plot line of traditional French romantics.

“Y/N?”

“Oui?” You prop yourself in a certain way on the chair, finding the angle that has the rays of light beating your skin in the most attractive way, and give a ruffle to the locks that litter your bare back.

It’s a small apartment, the kitchen meeting the bedroom and bedroom meeting the balcony all in one open plan space - it’s not like you had anything to hide with him - so it’s not long before his footsteps fall onto the concrete of the outdoor space. It’s the clunking of ice that has your lips turning upwards.

“They didn’t have the peach, but the woman recommended the citrus. Said it’s good when the weathers like thi-.”

You take it from where it’s hovered over your shoulder, and immediately the condensation hits your hand, ice cold droplets making their way from fingers to wrist to elbow. Your nipples harden at the sensation.

“Thank you.”

“Baby?”

“Mmm,” it’s both an answer to his call for you and an answer of satisfaction at the bitter liquid, cold and moreish, down your throat.

You know he’s eyeing you. You know his hands are lingering against his sides, fighting desperately against the desire to trail fingertips over the curve of your shoulders and down to your breasts. Your nakedness is another level of tempting he’s not sure his hormones can contend with.

And you know, even more, you’re petty. Teasing to prove a point. Letting his eyes wander and fingers jitter, but not letting him touch.

It wasn’t petty at first, not when your sister’s wedding - second wedding, but the more honest coupling of the two - was sidelined thanks to your boyfriends drunk hysteria. Your dance with one of the groomsmen, a high school friend, had caused jealousy to mix with alcohol and for Taehyung to reach levels of anger you hadn’t seen since his dad left. In short, it was bloody. So, no, your distance was justified, and the absence of his touch was as punishing to you as it was to him. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t play with it a little, string it on so that honest resentment did, in fact, become a little petty.

“Y/N, baby,” he doesn’t know what he’s asking, or maybe it’s just a plea with himself. But his cock stirs as icy droplets find their way between your breasts. It’s like they’re asking his eyes to follow them. Down, down, and further down, until there lies your bare cunt. He didn’t know you had it in you, but he’s suddenly cursing himself for ever realising you did.

“Fuckkkk.”

You know where his eyes are. They burn a little bit more than the sun that rakes over your body still, so it’s a calculated move when you uncross your legs, slowly, temptingly and you probably taste salty down there from the accumulation of sweat and arousal.

The strength in his neck goes all at once and his forehead drops to your shoulder, an uncomfortable curve in his back, but your scent makes up for it. It’s heady and wholesome and a mix of sweat and shampoo, and he can’t help his hands wander.

The tips of his fingers tingle, and when they meet the skin of your arm, your hairs stand on end. As much as you’d teased him in the last few days, you’d been teasing yourself, fighting inner battles every morning at how his morning wood pressed into you, or how you wanted to french kiss him when he spoke with the native Parisians. Mostly it was the way Paris suited him. It made you want to tangle with one another in your sheets with the balcony doors open and the sun exposing all of you. So his touch effects you and you don’t push it away, not this time.

“Ma beauté, please,” his lips are soft on your shoulder. His teeth not so much, but you know it’s a habit he has when he requires self restraint. “Please.”

His fingers are still light and apprehensive, but they know what they want, dragging southward so he intertwines them amongst yours. He first pulls them up to his mouth, so a kiss meets each knuckle - you know it’s a form of apology, for his mistake, and for what he’s about to do - and then your collective grasp makes a steady path behind you. His shirt is loose, and so are his shorts, and they’re thin enough you feel him heavy, hard and wet with his precum.

“Please.”

His grip fastens around yours, a tight mould that closes around his erection and he gasps, fully and unabashed as though he hasn’t been touched in days. Because, he hasn’t.

“Shit.”

So you take the initiative and work your hand on your own, the fabric harsh against his skin, but he likes the burning pain and vocalises that.

“Fuck yeh, please keep going, please.”

You’ve never heard him plead with you as much, voice still low and gravely as ever, but it’s a whine either way, and it keeps you hand tight to his dick, twisting a little so his balls get caught up in the material too. There’s a light thrust of his hips that calls for more, and he begins hissing and panting into the skin of yours shoulder, his hands occupied with their fierce grip on chair.

“Let me touch you baby.”

“Mmm,” you want that, his hands, his lips, everywhere, forever, but there’s something rooted within you that calls for more of his whines, and another part that wants to prologue his torture.

So the hand working his erection, finds his shorts seam, but much to his disappointment, you don’t venture under the barrier, instead you find yourself pulling him round the chair so his back is lit with the heat of the midday sun and his face, ridden with need and eyes that dart straight to your core, fills your gaze.

“Fuck you’re hot,” and naked, and all for his eyes. But eyes only.

“Kneel on the floor for me,” if you could say it in French, you would, it turns him on no end, but you hadn’t reached that level in your vocabulary book yet. Another day, you think, another day.

It’s almost comical the way he obeys so quickly, so devoted to your every word, it’s love but it’s mostly desire. Particularly now he’s level with your pussy.

“Such a perfect cunt,” he whispers, loud enough you hear, though

“Take your shirt off for me,” he begins at the top, “slowly.” His hands fumble between each button, but he won’t look to aid the cause, his eyes are drowning in the wetness between your thighs. The lust within them is enough to have you own hands wandering.

Your drink was forgotten a while ago, but the lingering ice cold wetness between your fingers is beautiful as they skip from hardened nipples to your stomach. It caves a little at the cold and Taehyung chokes a profanity when your pussy clenches at the same time.

“Mmm,” he’s bare now, with his top half rid of the shirt that marred your view of his body - torso beautifully golden thanks to the good weather and chest lifting too harshly with how his breathing stutters.

“Y/N please.”

“Mmmmm,” it’s so so good when you touch your clit, a gentle roll between your thumb and index finger, and you eye his hands, fists more like from the way they clench, imagining it’s his between your legs instead. Your sticky with sweat, but it’s good, and when a sinker sinks in shallow to your hole, it’s even better.

“Oh my fuckkk,” he’s subconsciously leaning forward, a primal instinct that has his tongue lapping at his lips and a tingling all over that calls out to fucking taste you, and now! He’s horny, too horny, yet there’s nothing that’s going to take his eyes away from where you finger yourself.

“It feels good Tae, so good.”

He literally whimpers. And there’s a sensible part of him, that’s thinking whether or not it’s worth cumming in his Gucci shorts.

But you moan, and he caves.

“Baby, please, let me touch you, please. I’m so hard, want it so bad. Want your hands on me, your mouth, anything, fuckk.”

One of your bare feet finds his bare abs, pushing gently because he didn’t realise he’d leaned it far enough to smell you.

“You want my mouth?”

“Mmm,” he licks his lips.

“Where?”

There’s a shaking to his hand, but it takes your foot firmly and drags it southward until it perches on where his cock sits high and hard. You smirk and he moans.

“There?” He twitches when you push harder.

“Fuckk.”

“You upset me though. Properly upset me Tae.” And it’s the first time his eyes meet yours in favour of your cunt.

He’d known he fucked up, bad and big. He’d known you cried the first two nights when he slept on the sofa at the other side of the room, you’d woken up with puffy eyes and had two cups of coffee that morning - you hate coffee. He’d known he’d wait until you were ready, emotionally and then physically, pushing back every instinct to drown you in his love, with his words, his mouth, his hands, because, like he said, he’d fucked up big.

And if that all meant keeping his hands to himself, his dick tucked away painfully, and resist the urge to taste you even when your fingers are sinking deeper with every twist, then, fuck, he’ll do it.

It doesn’t make it any easier though.

“Hmm?” You push harder again, foot to straining erection.

“Fuck, baby, I know I upset you, but you haven’t sucked my dick in 5 days. It’s painful, I’ll do anything.”

You scoff a little, then proceed to curl your toes around his head so he gasps out and flutters his eyes closed. They open to your pussy gushing dangerously around three fingers now.

It’s good, the friction, inside you, on your clit, hot and cold and so, so good. You’re moaning lightly, out of pleasure but also to string along his pain. Tae loves when you’re vocal.

“Just suck me a little, or let me have a taste. S'il vous plaît, mon cherie, s'il vous plaît.”

Fuck, you might know Tae but he knows you better, and the baritone of his voice, lustful and pleading, and in French, you release your foot and loose every internal battle.

“Come here.”

Giving in never tasted you good, his mouth meets your fingers first, salty, wet and so fucking delicious on his tongue, before you pull him by his hair so you kiss. And kiss hard. Starved and deprived means everything is on the line in a single few seconds of being joined at the mouth, and your moans is a trigger for him to dive deeper.

His hands feel bigger than they ever have when they wrap around your thighs, searching for a secure purchase before you’re lifted and swung around, roles switched, and him finding place on the chair. Neither of your tongues leave one another, and the way he’s open mouthed, breathing erratically, the kiss is sloppy, beautifully messy and his hips bucks when he thinks of something.

“Baby,” you’d sneaked a hand between you, and he’s not prepared when you squeeze him wholeheartedly, “f-fucking shit Y/N.” So you do it again, and again.

“Fuck, baby, please.”

“What Tae,” your tongue still laps at his.

“Spit in my mouth, I need it.”

You pull back, a little caught off guard by his desire. It’s not that deep and not that dark of a notion, but my god, if you don’t want to get on your knees and suck him dry at the thought. “Jesus.” So, with one hand firm on his dick, the other presses his cheeks harshly until they hollow. You suppress the desire to choke him, and instead collect your saliva, both his and your, aiming the spit deep into the back of his throat.

If it’s possible for a guy to cum without ejaculating, then that’s exactly what Tae just did. He tastes you, so far back in his gullet, and swallows, and moans.

“Good?”

“So good, please, more.”

So you do, again, finding his tongue with your spit and his hips begin to set a pace beneath you, into your hand through the layers of his shorts. They desperately stutter.

“You’re that horny huh? Won’t stop until you cum in your pants huh?”

“I’m so horny I couldn’t stop if I tried.”

“They’re Gucci, Tae, fuck that.”

He thinks it must be Christmas when you sink down beneath his thighs, spread and shaking from the torrent of blood rushing up to his dick. You’re fast on the zipper and faster at latching your mouth to his dick once they’re sufficiently down his legs.

“Holy fu- shittt.”

You take him straight down in one, the only teasing part being your fingers kneading at his balls, too gently for him to moan like he does when you twist them. But he growls, instead, when your throat constricts and quakes around his head and the vibrations travel everywhere through him when you moan at having him so deep.

“Baby, hold up a bit, pleaseee. I’ll cum.”

You twist his balls.

“Fuck, oh my god, oh my god, baby, I want- ohshit, I wanna be in you.”

Your pussy throbs enough that you take him up on his want, prepared to discard every last piece of restraint you’d kept up for the last 5 days, because you’d forgiven him before he’d even fucked up.

“Wowow, wait, just, I’ll cum too quick, just-”

You hover, panting a little from when you’d sucked him so your lungs dried up.

“Okay,” tenderly, one of your hands, shaking from the pent up hormones, finds his cheeks, his hair, his lips, easing him and lulling him, “calm, you’re good.”

He presses a fleeting kiss to your palm, and then licks a stripe up his own, salty from sweat but it reaches for something saltier. It cups you with little reservation, heading straight for your clit whilst two fingers nestle deep inside you. His eyes finally open to watch the way yours roll back.

“Oh fuck.”

“Yeh?”

Three fingers. And deeper.

“Shit, Tae. Yeh.”

He eyes where his hand sinks into you, and the image doesn’t help how his stomach is clenching his orgasm away. He starts bucking into the air instead, possessed by your moans, your wetness, the way your body begins to drip, golden in the sun.

“Fucking hell that’s good.”

He loves when you’re vocal.

“Tell me you love me, baby, please.”

It’s hard. He’s curling his fingers, eyeing you with a need that borders on crazed, yet your heart beats faster from his words, not just the way the need to cum is creeping up on you.

“Mmm, je t’aime, mon amour, je t’aime.”

“Oh fuck,” you almost gush when his dick replaces his hands, too fast for you to unclench and make way for his length, and he chokes, dropping his head in between your breasts and squeezing your back. His hold is enough that you’re lost, drowned amongst him, and his thrusts make you fall limp.

“I’ll cum, Y/N, I’ll cum quick, holy s-” his head throws back when you hand finds his neck and squeezes, it mirrors your cunt.

“It’s okay baby, cum, please, I want it.”

Tae’s on a mission, to find his end and yours, planting his feet and becoming delirious as he drives into, so fast you can’t actually moan, or scream, because he’s in your throat, big and hard. It hits you in that place you want, once, twice, again and again.

“Oh my god, Tae, oh-”

“So good, fuckkk.”

He thumbs your clit too hard for you to prevent your orgasm and the gush that cums with it. It’s so powerful that you shake, and force his dick out of you all at the same time.

“Fucking hellll.”

The sight sets him alight as well. His hands too occupied on holding you upright that he cums untouched, over your stomach, over your pussy that quivers with wetness, he doesn’t stop either, leaking endlessly, because 5 days worth of blue balls had really kept him on edge.

Breathing is all that ensues. A silence that has you both trying to ground yourself. The cum, everywhere, is a little distracting.

“Messy.” You pant, tired, spent, but not quite exhausted enough that you don’t play with his cum. No, it’d be a waste, so you drags two fingers to the head of his cock, he hisses, and through the pile collecting on your stomach before you drag it deep inside of you.

“Fuck that’s hot.”

It hurts but you thrust them in and out a few times, relishing in the notion he’s deep and set inside of you.

“Baby, stop or I’ll get hard again. And I’ve been hard for like four days straight, it’s not fair.”

So you peck his lips.

“Sorry.”

And kiss him again.

“Me too.”

You stay naked, together, the whole day. You remain embraced and bare into the night also. He cooks for you with his cock hard between his legs, and he doesn’t even have to ask when you get on your knees at the dinner table. He fucks you in the bath. You fuck him on the bed.

And three days later, when your bags are packed, the plants on the balcony are dead and Tae has fucked you enough to make up for the 5 days missed, the lovely old French lady on the front desk, in the most beautifully sweet accent tells Tae,

“s'il te plait, ne baise pas sur le balcon, certainement pas nu.”

You’re glad you’re not fluent.

[harrieatthemet]

Go Home II

in which Harry matches socks and you hate the record label’s holiday parties. (part I)

He’s matching fucking socks. 

It had started with the small green one that fell out of a pair of his sweatpants. A single blue sock had popped up amidst his quest to seek out the matching green sock in the crowded sock drawer. So now he was matching socks, every single sock. 

“Bloody fuckin,” and now he’s at a crossroads. 

Every sock has been matched, and he’d even found socks Gemma had given him for Christmas back in 2013. Every sock has been matched and you’re still out. 

A few minutes pass by and he’s still sat on the edge of the bed in a pool of matched socks, racking his brain to try and find something else to occupy him as he waits for the sound of keys in the door. 

He could go to sleep. After all, it’s the one thing he’d really been wanting to do since he’d watched the sunrise, and set, all in one day. 

Of course, there was still that guilt gnawing at him. That would be enough to keep him awake, fidgety, and maybe even a little restless. Because he feels just fucking terrible now. The longer he thinks about it, the more hot his cheeks get and the more embarrassed he becomes. 

And if he feels this shitty about it, he doesn’t even want to consider thinking about how shitty you must feel. 

He’s practically ready to spring off the bed as soon as the nearing sound of heels hitting the driveway passes the bedroom window. 

A few steps more and you’ve got a hand stuffed in your purse as it blindly fishes for keys, pushing aside the excess clutter floating in your purse so you can get inside. 

It’s early, only 10:15, which typically means the dinner hadn’t went as well as you’d have preferred. This, obviously, only piles on to the surmountable shitty-ness he’s already feeling. 

But it doesn’t keep him from standing on the other side of the door, ready to greet you as though all is well, “Hi lovie!” 

It is a bit of a somber smile, forced to boot. Inside he is absolutely trembling, more-so because he’s got absolutely no idea the kind of headspace you’re in at the moment. Your stoic expression makes him that much more apprehensive, because it’s as good as nothing trying to decipher your mood. 

“Hi.” you greet him as though it’s like a job, one that you dread, before brushing past him. 

There’s no reason for him to be disappointed. In reality, he was expecting an eye roll or even nothing at all. Saying anything to him was exceeding his expectations. 

But now he was eerie. Why weren’t you eye rolling at him? Why didn’t you ignore him when you walked in? 

“The socks,” Harry exhales, “m’gonna put ‘em away, don’t worry.” 

His eyes study the look on your face. Still nothing, which is really starting to piss him off. For a second, your eyebrows do furrow in confusion. Which makes sense considering there’s a sea of fucking socks covering the bed. 

“Ok,” and even your voice is flat, “that’s fine.” 

He watches as you slide your bag onto the dresser, knocking over a perfume bottle as you place your hand on the corner for balance. And he’s still watching you as you peel your work shoes off before sitting them near the bedroom door, unzipping the back of your dress as much as you could. He offers to unzip the rest for you, clearly you couldn’t reach, but you’re running the bathroom sink before he finishes. 

“Know y’mad at me.” 

The door frame provides a stable platform for him to lean against, his eyes trained on you as you tap the bottom of your face wash to get the last of it out. You’re still so mum, so robot like and straight-faced. 

The running water goes off and now it really is uncomfortably quiet. You’re stood right in front of him as you pat your face dry with the towel, tossing it aside into wash bin. 

“Well before y’yell at me, m’really sorry. M’feeling so terrible about it, honestly. Whatever you wanna say t’me I won’t get upset, know I deserve it.” 

“I’m not going to yell at you.” 

Oddly enough that isn’t what he wanted to hear. A snarky remark, an elevated voice, a swear, an insult. That’s what he had expected. That’s what he had prepped himself for during the half hour he’d been organizing socks. 

But it’s not what he got. Instead he got a levelheaded response from you, in a calm tone, as you removed all the excess pillows from the bed. 

“Y’not?” he’s asking almost like he’s walking into a trap, “don’t y’want to? Aren’t y’mad?” 

“No,” you insist, hurling a throw pillow towards the closet door, “m’not mad.” 

Not mad. Briefly, and really it only lasts for a minute, he wishes you were just a little mad. It would be well deserving, he was well aware it was a shitty thing he’d done. 

“Yeh not mad?”

With both of his eyebrows raised, his face washed with surprise, he stares at you while you peel back the duvet. His eyelids, previously droopy as they did their best to ward off sleep, were now completely peeled back. And he’s almost more thrown off, if it were even possible, when you nod your head no in agreement. There’s no way you’re not mad.

You’re crawling into bed, not mad. And you’re rummaging through the nightstand to find your book, not mad. You’ve even turned down his side of the bed, all while not being mad. 

“Prove it.” he huffs, sitting upright on the left side of the bed. 

“Excuse me?”

“If y’not mad,” he shrugs innocently, “prove it ‘nd kiss me goodnight.” 

There’s a brief pause between the two of you. But you do end up closing your book, sliding it off your lap and onto the nightstand beside you. It’s enough of a yes for him. as he goes on to close his eyes and playfully pucker his lips in preparation for a peck. 

A peck that he waits for. It honestly feels like forever, even though it’s only been a couple seconds. He thinks if he sits like this any longer he’ll fall asleep. He peels open one eye, just to scope out the scene. Your sitting right in front of him still, but with the same blank stare. 

“See! You are mad!” 

“Twelve times.” you mutter. 

You’ve got his full attention, now. His lips fizzle out of a pucker and he properly collects himself, because he can tell you’re not interested in the jokes or the playful tone he was angling to set. You might not be mad, but you’re definitely upset. 

Twelve, to him, is an insignificant number. He just barely heard you mumble it. If he hadn’t even listening he surely would’ve completely missed it. Twelve. It’s so unimportant. 

“M’not following.”

“Twelve, Harry,” you continue, only for the crease in between his brows to deepen, “that’s how many times I’ve wanted to stay home.” 

“(Y/N) m’not really-”

“Dinners with your manager, or your publicist, sometimes both” you start, “holiday parties at your record label. And Jesus Christ, Harry, those are fucking awful. I’ve sat through two sold out concerts when I had the flu, left from an 8 hour work day just to get on an 8 hour flight for you.”

Is it wrong of him to be offended? Because he is. What’s wrong with all that stuff. He liked it, he enjoyed it. You always seemed to enjoy it, too. He cant recall you ever complaining, or whining, or even mumming a word about wanting to stay home. 

“Yeh love tha’ stuff,” he shifts awkwardly on the bed before he rests against the headboard, “never said anything. And yeh told me it was just a cold not th’bloody fucking flu!” 

“I fucking hate it,” and you had been waiting to clue him in on those holiday parties for two years, “but I still do it because it’s important to you, and you’re important to me.”

Theres a bit of respect he has to pay, first of all, because you’re a fucking trooper. This whole time he really thought you loved those holiday parties. 

“You couldn’t even sit through one fucking dinner,” and now you’ve switched to hostile, “an hour, hour and a half, was all I needed from you and you’d think I asked you for the fucking moon.” 

And now you’ve truly made him feel like the epitome of a piece of shit. Really, you have. He’d honestly would never have known your dislike towards some of his work endeavors if you hadn’t told him just now. 

As if he didn’t already feel guilty enough, he can see your eyes starting to well and it’s enough to make him feel hallow inside. Which he does, he can feel a faint hallow ache in the middle of chest once he comes to terms with the fact he’s literally made you cry. He’s been a dick, embarrassed you, and now he’s making you fucking cry. 

“Don’t cry moppet,” he lulls, and rearranges his sitting position so that he could pull you between his legs, “know I hate t’see y’cry.” 

An elongated kiss is delivered to your scalp, and again to the back of your neck. A couple of sorries are spoken too, a few out loud and the rest mumbled softly just above your ear. He does feel terrible, he makes sure to let you know when he isn’t asking how he could make it up to you.

“I’m still pretty upset,” you sigh, and he only frowns, “think skipping the holiday parties this year might help, though.” 

[caprina-mints]

The Creepypasta Turning Into Kids for 1 Week and Their S/O has to Take Care of them:

Ask me if you want a Part 2 :3

Toby :

◈ Lots of cuddles and smooches from you

◈High Key loves to be carried by you and wrapping his arms around your neck.

◈ Will Cry and have terrible Panic attacks when you put him down and leave.

◈ " Toby what's wrong sweetie? I just went to the bathroom"

◈ " Y-you l-l-left M-me! D-Don't l-leave p-please I I-I L-love Y-ou"

◈ Your heart going so soft for this sweetheart that you scoop Toby up and give Toby soothing hugs .

◈a lot of pecks and small kisses landing on his cheeks.

◈This Little Toby is always hungry so he asks you to make his favorite food all the time.

◈ He watches you cook while sitting on his stool in adoration.

◈ Starts yelling I Love You for no reason and startles you everytime.

◈ Constantly asking you to give him a kiss.

◈ Bath time was His Favorite time of the day because you two bathe together.

◈ He likes to wash your hair for you and secretly uses your shampoo so you two will smell the same.

◈ You Two always hang out in the living room and he always falls asleep every time while laying on your tummy.

◈ One Time when you two fell asleep on the couch he suddenly turned back to normal and when you woke up you found a very naked Toby wrapping his arms around your waist.

Jeff the Killer :

✧ " Noo! Y/n! I'm a fucking Kid! My Dick is so small! "

✧You had to Comfort Jeff Because the poor smile child was traumatized by what he had become.

✧ " How the fuck am I supposed to make people go to sleep when I'm this tiny!? "

✧It consist of him being a brat and complaining all the time.

✧He still acts the same unlike Toby. But took advantage of his current form to boss you around.

✧So you got back at him by forcing him to wear a fairy costume given by Sally.

✧Revenge had never been this sweet.... Until he started crying.

✧Wtf he actually cried so now you're carrying him around while slowly cradling him and giving him soft kisses on his forehead.

✧He took advantage of it again and he was groping your boobs while sobbing and acting pitiful.

✧You let him have his way but you immediately dropped him when he slid his hand inside your shirt.

✧He started crying again and this time you shoved a candy inside his mouth to shut him up.

✧He kept spitting it out but you shove another one every time he did it.

✧" Jeff Put the Knife down! "

✧ You ended up treating him since he cut himself with his knife multiple times.

✧" But I wanna go out! "

✧He was being sulky because you took his knife away and now he won't eat so you had to feed him.

✧ Days later During Bath time where you were supposed to bathe him he suddenly turned back and let's just say he snuck up behind you and the two of you didn't just take a bath inside the bathroom ;3

Kagekao :

✤You didn't know about it for the majority of the days until he suddenly sneaked up on you when you were in your bed and stole a kiss.

✤" Look y/n! I'm a kid now! I can pull even cooler pranks like this! "

✤ He started pulling pranks on everyone and it took you a lot of persuading to stop everyone from burning kagekao.

✤ " kagekao! No wine! "

✤ " But I'm Thiiirsttyyyy! "

✤You were his next Victim and it ended so Bad that you had to ignore him and locked yourself in your room for the whole day.

✤ You Ignored him and he stayed outside your door knocking and saying sorry.

✤ Soon he started banging on your door violently and you were taking none of it so you put on your earphones and listened to music.

✤ You felt bad but what he did made you so angry that you wanted to strangle him even if he was a kid.

✤ You felt really guilty when you woke up and 4 hours had passed but you could still hear him banging outside.

✤ You opened the door and acted tough but once you saw him with his teary and heartbroken expression you melted.

✤ You felt even worst when you saw his tiny clawed hands bruised and bloody from knocking on your door.

✤ When you hosited him up he wrapped his tiny arms around your neck and started crying and saying sorry.

✤ It broke your heart and you started soothing him and telling him it was fine and you were sorry too for being too hard on him.

✤ While treating his bloody hands you couldn't help but start shedding tears at how bad his hands were.

✤ He panicked and thought he did something wrong and started saying sorry again you shushed him with a kiss on the cheeks. You gave his knuckles a kiss after you Bandaged his hands.

✤ It didn't take long for him to turn back and luckily you two were in your room when he turned back. He was asleep and naked at that time and you were awake.

✤ You climbed on top of him and gave him a long kiss even though he was asleep but it didn't take long for him to respond.

✤ " I love you " You muttered after the kiss and he replied immediately and everything was nice until he decided to grab your hips and grind you on 'that' area a devious smile on his face.

Masky :

✵ You were happy when you found out about it because how bad could a child masky be instead of his usual self?.

✵ Oh boy, You have never been so wrong in your entire life. He was as difficult as before and he keeps snapping and bossing you around.

✵ and of course you had the courage to taunt him and tease him because he wasn't big or strong enough to man handle you and fuck you to next week.

✵ You were happy about that fact but little masky was so demanding. If you refuse to carry him he stands on something and jumps on you.

✵ This happened a lot of times and he never stops until you carry him...

✵ Like Jeff he starts groping and getting all touchy with your boobs and you had to rip him away from your chest every time.

✵ He's still the same and keeps giving sarcastic and snarky remarks.

✵ Masky and Hoodie were incharge of grocery shopping but since Masky was too little you had to tag along.

✵ guess what? Masky was still the jealous and possessive man as he was before and demands that you carry him while grocery shopping.

✵ And when a man gets too close to you he starts yelling 'mommy!' Or ' Mommy why do you have AIDS? ' and ' Mommy you were a man before? '

✵ And you were so embarrassed and annoyed with his bitch ass attitude so you shoved him towards hoodie and grabbed the cart so you could do the shopping yourself away from masky.

✵ Everything was going well for you but Masky on the other hand kept squirming and struggling against hoodie's hold. And he even threatened hoodie to let him go.

✵ Hoodie had the chance to let him go but after what masky had done Hoodie was more afraid of what You could do to Masky if you were pushed too hard. So he didn't let go.

✵ And the most unbelievable and surprising thing happened.

✵ Masky Cried , whined and wailed like a baby.

✵ He had Big round tears running down his cheeks and you and Hoodie couldn't even think straight because--

✵ What the fuck he knew how to cry? Like what????.

✵But knowing Masky he was doing that so he could get his way so you ignored him. But he got Hoodie in trouble... Also you.

✵ " Help this man is kidnapping me and my mommy doesn't Care! " He shouted while crying and pointing at you and hoodie

✵ Oh shit you and hoodie are in for some deep trouble because of how bratty masky was. You heard a lot of nasty commented from old aunty gossipers in the crowd that was piling up. And those nasty things were about you being a terrible mom.

✵ Hoodie immediately let go of masky when two guards approached him and he ran towards you hugging your leg and he bit your damn leg.

✵ You winced and held back your voice. You were even interviewed by the guards and how irresponsible you were for being so unaware.

✵ Masky had a smug grin the whole time. Hoodie gave up and waited on the counter while masky rode on the Shopping cart.

✵ He kept nagging and ranting about how he's going to get you back but you were so angry and tired with his bullshit that you didn't even have the energy to talk to him or even look at him.so you just continued shopping.

✵ Masky noticed it and when he bit your arm to look at him he was shocked when you glared at him coldly and just pulled your hand away from him .

✵ He tried so many ways to get you to talk and you didn't. He even tried insulting you but it made it worst and this time you didn't even care about him.

✵ Once you were done shopping hoodie was driving the car and you sat on the back seat while Masky sat on the passenger's seat. You stayed silent for the rest of the ride and didn't let masky in your room that night.

✵ You didn't Talk or look at him for the following day and he threw so many temper tantrums that everyone was begging you to talk to him. But you didn't. He fucking deserves it.

✵ A few days passed and you noticed how dark circles were forming under his eyes and he even stopped eating. And one time in the bathroom when you passed by he was drinking an unhealthy amount of pills in one go.

✵ He Kept throwing temper tantrums but one day he just collapsed and you are now worried to death and blamed yourself.

✵ He just lacked sleep and he wasn't eating and the pills didn't help either that's why he collapsed.

✵ You stayed in his room and when he woke up you felt so bad and your heart was crying when he held a crestfallen expression and started crying while sobbing he managed to say " I'm sorry please don't hate me. Don't leave me... I won't do it again don't hate me please" .

✵ He sounded so heart broken and sincere that you couldn't help but hug him and whisper gentle and loving words until he calmed down. You fed him and made sure he slept properly this time .

✵ While sleeping this idiot shoves his hand in your shirt and starts groping you.

✵ you were asleep when you felt a tickling and wet feeling on your chest and when you woke up it was grown up masky on top of you sucking your... Uhhhh.... *winky face *

✵ " I've been through a lot of shit cause of you... And I need my reward "

✵ You knew you were fucked when you found out that your hands were tied on the headboard.

✵ and for the next week he had to carry you around because your legs were as wobbly as a spaghetti.

Jason The Toy maker :

✿ You honestly didn't get to give a proper reaction when A tiny Jason suddenly came running in and clinging on your leg.

✿ You screamed while yelling ' Get away!' expecting that it was Grinny cat again going for your leg because it happened last time cause Kagekao got catnip all over your leg.

✿ When you looked down you saw a very Dejected and hurt Jason who looked like he could cry any minute now

✿ " You don't... Want Me Y/n?..."

✿ You frowned at his adorable and sad reaction and was about to pick him up when his skin color changed and his arm began to rot and turn black. He gripped on your leg with sharp claws and his hair turned white.

✿ He looked up at you with glowing green eyes and said " You want me to get away from... You?.... Never... You're Mine! " His voice echoed through the mansion making you gulp.

✿ He was still scary and possessive and knowing how he still has his abilities you bent down and hosited him up giving him a kiss on his nose, forehead and cheek.

✿ That calmed him down and his appearance turned back to normal.

✿ He was with you the whole time and when you try to leave expect that a raging child demon entity is already clawing on your very being while chanting how you belong to him.

✿ You did everything together and on bath time he insists that you should use his shampoo and every hygiene products he uses so he could smell his scent on you.... A very weird act of scenting.

✿ He asked for a kiss on the lips every time but you would always say no even if it is dangerous... Hello you felt weird kissing a kid.

✿ But he threw a tantrum and started yelling how you didn't love him and lookie here his creations came alive and he was already one step away from destroying everything in the mansion.

✿ So you quickly gave him a quick small peck on his lips and it was good enough to calm him down.

✿ Laughing Jack mistaken Tiny Jason as yours and Jason's Child.

✿ Tiny Jason didn't mind it but when you try to deny it... He goes beast mode.

✿ After the whole ' almost destroying everything in the mansion ' thing. Slenderman asked you to take Jason out for a walk.

✿ You Took him for a walk and brought him to the Park. You thought it was a good idea

✿.. No it was a terrible Idea. a little boy came up to you and told you , you were pretty.

✿ Jason didn't like that and tackled the kid and was attempting to gut him with his claws.

✿ He was successful in killing the child and you ran away with Jason before anyone could notice.

✿ Once far away you scolded him and how he shouldn't do that to innocent and cute children.

✿ He saw your scolding as an act of defending kids that tried to take you away from him so he ran away from you and back at the mansion.

✿ You followed him behind and he stomped to his room locking himself in.

✿ He didn't come out for almost 3 days and you grew worried.you tried knocking before but it was no use. He kept himself in. Even when you pleaded for him to go out he didn't.

✿ You figured that he may be sulking so you used the only way you knew he'd come out... Make him jealous.

✿ You start off by saying how cute The kids were in the park and how you wanted to bring them home . And you didn't even finish what you were saying...

✿ He was already out his door crying and clinging on your leg. And of course you felt.. Terrible.

✿ You carried him back to his room where it was a complete mess with everything wrecked and destroyed. And when you took a closer look at his face it was obvious that he and been crying a lot. Wow kids are really sensitive...

✿ He started saying how bad you were for trying to leave him and that you never really loved him and it ended with Nobody is going to love me because I'm a monster. that was a critical blow to your heart so you clearly explained to him why you did that.

✿ Luckily he was being cooperative and was being understanding for some reason which slightly creeped you out.

✿ He wanted to make toys so you brought him to his creation room where he keeps everything that should be hidden.

✿ you sat him on his chair and turned your back at him facing the table to prepare his tools but...

✿ You felt two cold hands brush against your sides and it had sharp claws that dug on your skin.. It wasn't the same tiny hands that would usually cling on your leg... It was a hand bigger than yours...

✿ you were pulled against a hard chest and a his lips were nibbling on your ear while his clawed hands ran up and down your sides and squeezing your sides occasionally.

✿ " You really enjoy teasing me my little temptress~ Let's see how you'll like it~"

Eyeless Jack :

❋ You Two were out in the woods when he suddenly shrunk down his clothes piling down.

❋ You were Squealing of how adorable Jack was when his head peeked out to look at you.

❋ " Aww, Jack you're so Tinyyyy! "

❋ " Y/n get me outta here "

❋ You offered to carry him but he was being stubborn and insisted to walk on his own.

❋ he still had his hoody on and he was so adorable when he struggled to walk with his baggy hoody.

❋ He kept stumbling on his Hoody and you couldn't take it anymore. You walked even slower than normal because of him.

❋ So you bent down and carried this tiny growling demon.

❋ He was pouting and he even tried showing his tiny fangs to scare you but you found it adorable.

❋ You couldn't help but rub your cheeks with his .

❋ Tiny Jack is a bit of a Tsundere. When you got home he squirmed to get away from you which upset you greatly.

❋ He didn't mind it when other pastas touched him but he'd turn feral when it was you.

❋ You were a bit offended so you gave him what he wanted. You didn't go near him when he was around.

❋ To your surprise he was trying to get your attention. But you didn't give him the satisfaction to have your attention.

❋ Ben had turned to a child 2 days after and you and Ben happened to be close. So you spent your time playing games with him seated on your lap.

❋ E.J didn't like that and he came to the extent of fighting with Ben trying to Tear him away from you.

❋ " Don't touch her! Stay away from her! "

❋ " Jack! Get away from Him! "

❋ He was upset that you defended Ben instead of Him.

❋ " Waaaah! You don't love me anymore! You Like him! "

❋ You had to carry him to your room because he wouldn't stop crying and his tears were black and gooey so you had to give him a bath.

❋ During bath time he kept sniffling and he had his arms crossed.

❋ You didn't say anything about it so you proceeded to wash and massage his hear, scratching the back of his ears since it would always calm him down.

❋ You knew you won his favor when he started purring like a kitten and pressing further onto your touch.

❋ Once you were done he began to act clingy and wouldn't let you leave him.

❋ He even started growling and baring his fangs at the other Creepypasta males who came near you.

❋ If he had the chance he would scent you rubbing his head on your chest and neck.

❋ He cried one time when you couldn't handle his cuteness and bit his cheeks gently.

❋ You kept doing that for the rest of the week and he'd run away everytime but come running back almost immediately.

❋ You woke up at midnight because you were thirsty and tiny Jack was asleep snuggling close to you. So you had to gently move him away. And you went straight to the kitchen.

❋ You were still drowsy and when you placed the glass on the counter a hand gripped onto your wrist and you were spun around aggressively.

❋ You were faced with an Angry looking Jack, he had turned back and he was shirtless but he wasn't completely naked. He had pants on.

❋ " Why'd You Leave? Did I tell you to? "

❋ Anger was radiating off him and you couldn't bring yourself to answer so you kept silent.

❋ He lifted your chin up with his finger and roughly pressed your lips with his cold ones.

❋ He bit down on your lips making it bleed and when he pulled away he had a smirk on his face.

❋ " It's Payback time~"

❋ The next morning you had hickies and bite marks all over your body and you could barely move without flinching.

Hoodie :

❒ You were happy that Brian wasn't as Demanding and Bossy as The others.

❒ He acted more mature and timid and he refuses to let you do anything for him which you found really lovable.

❒ He was a tiny sweetheart and is contented with just having you beside him.

❒ It was nice having him as a soft tiny bean instead of the usual intimidating , cold and a bit forceful Brian.

❒ But don't be fooled though, He still has his clingy side around and when you try to leave;

❒ He'll Threaten to break your legs when he turns back.

❒ which you didn't expect to hear from his cute plump lips.

❒ He has big chubby adorable cheeks that had you swooning and pinching his cheeks.

❒ You couldn't keep your hands away from him. He was so cute and tiny minus his death threats.

❒ When you two eat he always asks to sit on your lap and have you feed gum which makes you laugh everytime.

❒ He likes it when you play with his hair when he sits on your lap .

❒ This tiny fluffball always buries his face on your chest... Ehem.. Boobs.

❒ He appreciates it if you start complimenting him about being the cutest kid you've ever known.

❒ You two had an argument when he killed a man in the convenience store knocking the mountain of canned goods on him.

❒ Because the man had complimented you on how good your ass looked and he didn't mind dating a woman who had a child.

❒ Brian was so pissed at that and he was still as dangerous as he was before.

❒ He was being so unreasonable during your arguments that you walked off leaving the mansion for a walk.

❒ When you came back and it was already dark you saw Brian sitting on the small flight of stairs on the porch holding a flashlight .

❒ When he saw you he was brought into tears and ran towards you full speed tackling you. Which almost knocked you down on the ground.

❒ This kid is heavy. You scooped him up and started apologizing for walking away and he was still trying while scolding you because he was so worried.

❒ masky came out and explained how he and Toby had to hold him down so he won't go chasing you because it was unsafe for someone his size.

❒ You felt sorry and went is due with them and Brian had his face buried in your chest not moving at all.

❒ He had his tiny hands clutching tightly on your shirt like he was afraid you'll run away again.

❒ You took him to your room where you comforted him and promised to stay by his side for as long as you could and you'll always love him.

❒ he was still on your lap facing you with red glassy eyes making your guilt swallow you.

❒ you cupped his cheeks and gave him butterfly kisses all over his face until he started chuckling.

❒ Once you finished , a puff of smoke appeared on Brian and when the smoke cleared he was no longer tiny.

❒ He was big and naked now and he was still on your lap .

❒ He cornered you with a smirk before tearing your top with ease along with the rest of your clothes.

Doctor Smiley :

♢ You honestly didn't know how to react when you opened the door to his torture chamber and saw a tiny Doctor Smiley dismembering a dead body butt naked.

♢ " Ah y/n darling would you mind looking for some clothes for me? "

♢ You just left and came back minutes after holding bear pajamas given by Trenderman.

♢ He didn't like it but he didn't have a choice.

♢ He cleaned himself and wore the bear pajamas and he looked normal for once.

♢ Even though he acted the same he still had the childish spirit that came with his transformation.

♢ He didn't like it when other people carried him but he loves piggyback rides but there was no way he'd actually say it out loud.

♢ He keeps on asking you random questions and if you liked him better that way.

♢ He was energetic and hyper which you never expected from him. But it's understandable he was a kid after all.

♢ He hated bath time and will only take a bath if you join him.

♢ But he gets really bloody and messy because of his 'job' so you had to take a bath at least 7 to 9 times a day which irritates you very much.

♢ You had it with his job and didn't let him work for the following days because he would always get hurt clearly because his tools are way bigger than he expected and he was tiny.

♢ You always had him around you since he was pretty reckless and would try to sneak away and work with every chance he had.

♢ So you kept him on your lap everytime to keep an eye on him and this tiny smiley got even weirder because he lives to grab your hand and nibble and suck on your finger.

♢ He seemed to do this unconsciously when you two are watching a movie in your room.

♢ He was so cute and harmless it was hard to believe he killed people on daily basis.

♢ You didn't expect that he would turn back so soon.

♢ You felt a pair of cold hands brushing on your thighs and you yelped when you saw an adult smiley spreading your legs and latching his lips on your thighs and he began to travel further...

♢ He began to suck and nip your thighs and you did try pulling back... But resistance was futile. That night you didn't get any sleep.

[spiltscribbles]

Metamorphosis

Notes: This was written for the most wonderful, gorgeous and sweetheart babe in the history of ever!!! @omgcmere for her birthday! ILYSM sweetheart! Huge thanks to my babes @pastelle-pvnk and @bibliothesophfor reading over this for me!<3<3

.-

~A reblog is worth a thousand stars~

.-

I am free and that is why I am lost

-Franz Kafka

.-

Henry wakes up the day before classes of his junior year exhausted, hung over, and to a positively shit-eating grin that Pez is boasting while he gleefully pushes open the blinds like the sadistic fuck that he is.

“You’ve become a real tosser ever since making out with my sister last Christmas,” Henry informs him bluntly, stretching out slowly while looking around for his shirt until coming to the realization that the bloke from last night must’ve taken it while on the walk of shame.

Henry really tries his damndest not to think of his ass taking that walk.

“Ah Beatrice, my sun and stars.” Pez magnanimously throws Henry an old henley from his still unpacked suitcase. Tosser status withstanding, He’s still Henry’s best friend, has been ever since freshman year when they found solace in each other being the only two Brits in this entire university— well the only ones that matter, anyhow.

“Oy, did you wake me up at this godforsaken hour just to wax poetic about my sister of all people?” Henry grouses, padding over to their joint bathroom to brush his teeth, wincing only slightly at the already raucous chatter going on in the downstairs of their frat house.

“Believe it or not Haz, dealing with your temperamental arse actually wasn’t on my list to do today,” Pez crows, standing there all put together and fresh and well-rested. Like a fucking monster. “But we’ve got that meeting with the Dean of Student Affairs about the room situation for rush week, and we’re still in that debate with Chi Phi’s president over it.”

Henry glares  at the reminder, a spark of fury running down his spine, and perhaps an extra thudding to his heart, but Henry’ll studiously ignore that.

“God damn Alex Claremont-Diaz.”

“Only took you around three minutes to mention him today,” Pez perks with a knowing leer. “I reckon that’s a new record..”

“Get the fuck out, Pez.”

.-

Henry was seven years old when he realized that his family were the sort of folks that end up on magazine covers and the headlines of salacious talk shows— that his dad was a renowned movie star and his ma’s the cousin of the queen of England. Henry was fifteen years old when he first started to hate as much.  When a nurse assigned to his father's hospital room leaked his death before the doctor even had time to tell them, his damn wife and kids.

Henry was sixteen and lost at sea when Philip and the bloody queen herself sat down with him to tell him that his public presence required a certain sort of image, a  discrete sort of image. An image that didn’t condone printed scarves and lingering hands with the son of a Lord who was two years ahead of him in Eton. Henry was eighteen years old when he ran off to America and learned how to keep everything hush, hush,  becoming untethered to all the bull shit surrounding him.  When he was accepted to Yale, and joined a fraternity and tried his damndest to emulate some douchebag wanker in the likeness of Philip.

And you know what, it was all going as planned until Henry met the infuriatingly arrogant, and downright mesmerizing boy in the rival fraternity. The one with an upturned nose and such big brown eyes and a delicious sort of half grin when Henry challenges him on something, or keeps him on his toes. Though if Henry’s being frank, he likes it most when Alex is keeping him on his knees, when Henry’s mouth is full and Alex’s lips are preening and he’s spouting out a sort of cursed poetry with every flick of Henry’s tongue and bobbing of his head.

Though that’s irrelevant now in the light of day when they’re on opposing sides and Alex is smirking at him from across the way with such irresistible swagger, sporting Henry’s red t-shirt that brings out the specs of golden in his almost molten eyes.

Henry hates him.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he calls out, just because he knows it makes Henry flush.

“The room’s ours, you prick,” Henry retorts, beyond mulish.

“It’s so cute when you get all flustered, Fox.”

“I’m not joking around, Alexander! That room’s been Alpha Delta Phi’s every opening week since the bloody eighties.”

“Don’t you think it’s time for a change in venue then?” Alex asks with an owlish blink, sliding lower in his seat so that his legs spread even further.

Oh fuck him. Fuck Alex Claremont-Diaz’s stupid cocky attitude and his stupid fucking face and so what if Henry just wants to just fuck him stupid. He can’t win just because Henry’s a weak, weak man.

“The room’s ours, Alex,” he warns lowly.

“You wanna prove it, pretty boy?”

Henry’s eyes flicker to the clock over the office door. It doesn’t technically open for another quarter of an hour, and they’ve worked with less time in even more compromising positions, so Henry doesn’t think twice when he tugs a very caught off-guard Alex into the bathroom down the hall, praying to God that there are no cameras around here.

“Woah there cowboy, didn’t get enough last night?” Alex grins, hands already down to unbutton Henry’s jeans.

“You’re fucking infuriating,” is all Henry says in answer, swatting Alex’s hands away before going down on his knees and tugging down the abhorrently orange basketball shorts Alex has on. God, if Henry actually cared he’d pull Alex aside and give him a lesson on what’s actually excusable to wear in public.

“Now why don’t you try to stay quiet for once,” Henry tells him in a hush, biting lightly on the skin of Alex’s inner thigh before kissing the spot in penance.

“Psha, you — erm, you like it when I’m loud.”

Henry doesn’t argue, isn’t in the mood to lie. Instead he takes him in slowly, tongue lapping around Alex’s tip and pushing down with precision.

“Ah, yeah H,” Alex blurts, about two octaves higher than his normal speaking voice, as his head hits the stall, a shaking hand curled in Henry’s hair while the other one is clenched tight around his shoulder.

Henry lets one of his hands wrap around the base of Alex’s cock as the other inches to Alex’s admittedly fantastic ass, wants this done quick and sloppy and to teach Alex a lesson that he can’t just win every argument by sitting around looking like some sort of brought to life Grecian statue.

“Henry— H,” Alex comes too close to whining, tugs harder on his hair and cants his hips forward. He at least has the decency to look sheepish. “You really need to calm down or I’m,” Alex falters right then, eyes going blown when Henry’s first finger dips into his asshole, hooking in deep before Henry takes a mouth full of him again. He repeats the action another two and a half times before Alex has to frantically tap on his head in warning, and Henry gets to stand up — more than a bit smug — smirking down at a boneless Alex who’s using the stall as his only support.

“I reckon while you clean up here, I’ll go speak with the dean on the behalf of Alpha Delta Phi,” Henry tells him, swiping his mouth with the back of his hand to get rid of the pre-cum still found there.

Alex’s brows hike up as he slowly realizes what Henry has done, breathless while he spews out a fuming, “Bastard.”

“Least you got a consolation prize love,” Henry goads, kissing him full on the mouth before adjusting himself and walking back out to the office.

Alpha Delta Phi gets the room just like they have for the past half century, and Alex fucks Henry senseless for the next week. Balance is restored.

.-

Henry thinks it’s important to note that this thing he has with Alex — well, it’s not even a thing, really. They’re fuck buddies, but no. That would imply that there is some sort of camaraderie found between them, when simply there just is not. It’s a thing of convenience, truly.

The fact of the matter is that they find one another ridiculously hot, but also can’t stand a prolonged conversation without feeling the burning need to wring the others neck by the end of it. They realized as much halfway through freshman year when they had the same English lit class and Henry had to be physically restrained by Pez when Alex was arguing against Henry’s point about Hemingway being oversaturated and a blowhard.

“He’s a classic,” Alex had charged, the snow of early February in New England cascading in his dark curls and catching in his long lashes.

“He’s only adored because he’s got a dick! Why don’t you read Austen or at least a man who has something to say!” Henry had fumed.

“Let me guess, you like Metamorphosis?”

“What do you have against Kafka?” Henry gaped, only just beginning to notice the others eyeing the pair of them. And yeah, it might’ve been bewildering how they’re arguing about literaries from centuries passed in the middle of a bonfire party, but people need to learn how to mind their own fucking business.

“Well dude, if we’re speaking about blowhards, he’s definitely the king of them,” Alex had snorted loftily, taking a swig of his spiked hot chocolate.

“Don’t call me dude,” Henry had sniffed, which made Alex squint at him, more than a bit amused.

“Okay, tell me, does Prince Douche do anything for ya, pretty boy?”

That was the first night Henry grabbed Alex by the collar and showed him what it meant to be an actual blow hard. And well….they never stopped. They didn’t stop the sniping at each other or the razor-tipped barbs being volleyed around, and especially not the fucking. Never the fucking.

But yeah, it’s not really anything, especially not the best thing. It could never be that. And not even just because his shitty family basically told him straight up that Henry could never actually come out in the public eye, Henry’s accepted that, has learned how to slink around those rules to live in some sort of happy purgatory. But the thing is, Henry’s just not a good boyfriend. He’s always too in his own head and he’s not really that attentive, and besides all that, Henry didn’t come to university to meet some bloke and live some gay romance story from the 1900s.

Henry’s here at university to get a degree, to become someone. He’s here because his father always told him to reach for the heavens, to do something beyond himself. Henry wants to be the next great literary, wants to write something that matters, that makes a difference. Something that’ll make Beatrice laugh with no more worry eclipsing the sound, and maybe even something that’ll bring the stars back in his mother’s eyes. Henry wants to say something that’s worth being said.

Henry doesn’t want to have anything getting in the way of that, preventing him from becoming someone important. But regardless, it’s not as if Alex has ever seen Henry as more than a good lay, has made it abundantly obvious throughout the year and a half  of their sleeping around. Most notably, that three month interlude when Alex began dating that boy from the student government, Liam whoever, at the end of last term. Though to be frank, Alex was always far out of Liam’s league, and the week that followed their breakup included some of the most dynamic and mind-blowing sex Henry’s ever experienced.

But that’s irrelevant.

Alex and Henry are only a last resort to one another, and it doesn’t have to mean anything more, it doesn’t have to be complicated, Henry hates it when things get complicated.

.-

Henry’s in the midst of editing his term paper on the impact that Woolf created in the discussion of gender in Orlando when he gets a text from Pez telling him to “stop being a robot.”  

Glaring, Henry ignores the text from Beatrice about David, and the email regarding alpha Delta Phi’s first charity function for this term, and the half dozen snapchat notifications from Alex alone. He instead moves to reply to Pez with a middle finger emoji before he’s accosted by a pair of hands wrapping around his eyes.

“Guess who?” an ever-amused and incredibly buoyant  voice asks.

“A prick?” Henry replies in a deadpan, making it so Alex cuffs him on the back of the head.

“Say dick you douche, you’re in America now,” he commands, taking a seat besides him in the almost empty top floor of the silent library.

“Fuck off,” Henry hisses, rubbing the tender spot. “And since when are you in the library this late?”

“You mean at three in the morning?” Alex says pointedly. “Never, because I’m normal and not a school-obsessed freakazoid like you.”

Henry sticks out his tongue in retaliation because he’s too groggy to come up with anything clever.

“And yet?”

“I’m a good person and dropped off a spare key to a brother who’s wigging out about a midterm,” Alex says, studying Henry with a peculiar amount of intensity. “Saw your pale ass haunting this place like a ghost and thought I’d bug you a little.”

“What is it?” Henry asks moodily, surprised at the lapse of silence that follows before Alex shrugs in answer.

“You’ve got some nasty circles under your eyes, white boy,” he says, not quite as crude as usual but Henry still glares in exasperation.

“So what? You got up in the middle of the night just to help a friend and criticize my looks?” Henry says with a huff, rubbing his strained eyes, only just starting to feel the exhaustion weighing heavy on his shoulders.

“I was at Nora’s place, so I was already up,” Alex says, unwittingly making it so Henry stiffens.

It’s not unusual for them to discuss each other's conquests, but it’s different when it comes to Nora. Henry knows that she and Alex had dated for a stint freshman year before the two of them  crossed paths. She’s a gorgeous and fierce computer sciences major with a minor in mathematics. There’s no way in hell that Alex isn’t still carrying a torch for her, which is fine and all, it’s not like Henry and Alex are anything beyond occasional hookups, but yeah— it still makes it so something uncomfortable is squirming right beneath the surface of his skin. And God does Henry hate it.

“How is she?” Henry asks evenly, ignores the way Alex is searing a hole into the side of his head while Henry adjusts the syntax of one of his topic sentences.

“Fine,” he says in the same detached sort of inflection. “You’re working on that paper for your gender lit class?”

“It’s due tomorrow morning,” Henry answers.

“Haven’t you been done with it for, like, a week?” Alex asks.

“Haven’t you heard that revising is the only way to get a decent paper?” Henry sniffs.

“Dude, I think you’ve edited enough,” Alex snorts. Everything always coming so fucking easy to him, it’s maddening. He’s gorgeous and charming and brilliant and he doesn’t even have to try. But worst yet, it’s not even a big deal to him. Even if he weren’t all those things he never had a family name to live up to, was never expected to be something he was not. Henry’s so fumingly envious but also so goddamn lost on him and  how it is he’s come to be.

“Alexander, is there a purpose for this ridiculous conversation?” Henry lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I really need to get back at this.”

“And what? Not sleep till tomorrow?” Alex snipes.

“If you don’t say anything worth my while in the next five seconds, I'm putting my earbuds back in and ignoring you,” Henry tells him point blank. “Five, four, three—“

Alex’s face goes a furious scarlet, jaw set, before he gets close enough that his breath skirts against Henry’s lips, and his hand finds its way to the front of his trousers.

“I’d really like it if you’d let me jerk you off right now.”

It's Henry’s turn to burn red.

“What?”

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

“We’re in public.”

“We’re in a dark library in the middle of the night and your weird ass always picks the corner surrounded by the shelves.”

“It’s always quietest,” Henry argues weakly.

“Bet we can change that,” Alex counters smugly.

Henry has already admitted that he’s a weak man, so he’s not surprised when Alex’s challenge actually works and he’s led to the most concealed corner with heated kisses and impatient grappling tugging him closer.

“You’re unruly,” Henry whines when Alex bites down at the hinge where the column of his neck meets his shoulder.

“And you’re really sexy when you’re all focused and nibbling down on that pen,” Alex leers, pulling himself and Henry out of their pants. “Really gets a guy imagining things.”

Henry swallows down, hard.

“What sorts of things?” He asks lightly.  

“You know H,” Alex croons,  gets a hand locked around each of them, knocking the breath out of Henry and making it so he’s gripping at the shelves, bracketing Alex on either side. “You get this little dent between your brows,” he leans forwards and nibbles against Henry’s neck once more. “’S the same one you get right before you cum.”

“Oh yeah?” Henry asks, pleads as he jerks into Alex’s hand, watching the moonlight dancing in his hair and tracing his strong features with a romantic sort of gentleness. Holy fuck, is he beautiful.

Okay, so Henry might’ve said that last part out loud, but he doesn’t even care because Alex’s grin goes lopsided, and he kisses the corner of Henry’s mouth and everything goes a blinding white when Alex strokes him over the edge.

“You are really something, Henry Fox,” Alex says in a voice that’s caught between befuddlement and a sort of wondrous intrigue. Henry can’t really reply though, feels heavy and sated and like he really wants to curl up with Alex. But that’s a ridiculous notion and Henry needs to get those thoughts out his mind or else this’ll all be ruined.

“You’re like an orgasm fairy,” Henry tells him in a yawn.

“I want that for my epithet,” Alex winks, gently pushing Henry’s overstimulated cock back into his briefs and zipping him back up. “I’m calling one of the vans if you want to join, our houses are the same way,”

Henry blinks, confused. “I can’t,” He tells him with a hint of irritation. “I’ve got to finish that paper.”

Alex frowns fully now, pinning him with a one-eyed squint.

“You look like you’re about to drop dead.”

“This’s how I always look after sex,” Henry contends, unconvincing to his own ears.

“You’re gonna run yourself into your own grave if you don’t give yourself a break,” Alex tells him, near fuming.

“Then that’ll be my own doing,” Henry says, steadfast.

“That’s fucking psychotic,” Alex hisses and Henry hates how he can’t understand why this, being here, being worth something greater than just a jumble of letters and familial connection, is so important to Henry.

“’S not your life to live,”  he shrugs, turning away from Alex.

“You don’t have to be the best to be worth anything, Henry,” he calls after him, cutting and cruel and careless.

Henry feels like he’s been caught out, like he can’t breathe. And how dare Alex, how dare he pretend that their situations are at all similar. Like there aren’t chasms separating them.

“Fuck you, Alexander.”

“I mean that’s all you ever want, isn’t it?”

There’s a sound like Alex kicking a chair but Henry doesn’t know for sure, refuses to turn around and check.

.-

It’s been two weeks since the library incident.

Neither of them has texted first, not even glancing in the other’s direction in the one class they share. And it’s good, it’s fine, it’s whatever. Henry’s never wanted anything more than a consistent fuck, and Alex has got dozens of options of incredibly pretty and incredibly smart and incredibly affable people just like him. He doesn’t need Henry and Henry doesn’t need him.

It’s fine.

“It doesn’t look fine, mate,” Pez tells Henry that Friday night with knit brows and a worried expression splayed out all over his face. Henry doesn’t answer in so many words, just tosses him the bird instead. “Right, good talk.”

“It’s nothing, Pez,” Henry insists, taking a drag of his joint and pretending that it helps.

“Then come to the party with us tonight, yeah? It’s Spencer’s birthday and I know he’d be a total mess if you actually tagged along to get drunk with us commoners.”

Henry glares with feeling but accepts the offer merely to prove his point that whatever happened between him and Alex means nothing.

Admittedly, that notion might’ve been thrown out the godforsaken window when the party goes into full swing and Henry finally catches sight of Alex near the beer pong table, laughing with Liam of all fucking people.

They look happy, happier than Henry’s ever seen him.

Henry feels cold all over.

He doesn’t know why he’s acting like this, doesn’t understand the reason why his stomach’s twisting into knots and his veins are spiking with a truly awful emotion and why his ribcage has cracked open, screaming at Alex, telling him to notice, to look at Henry, to see that he’s here, dammit. To see that Henry’s here and whole and has so much to give him even if it looks like the contrary.

Henry doesn’t understand any of it, so he ignores the feelings and races up stairs to his room, crossly slamming his door shut and cursing at his own stupidity.

Like he does whenever he’s overwhelmed, Henry grabs for one of the novels lining his shelf and gets lost in the fictitious lives penned in black and white, lives far away from his reach, lives that Henry could get lost in studying and forget his own for only a little while. It’s what he did when Bea and Philip were doing grown up things and he was stuck at home all alone. What he did for days on end in the hospital room, reading to his father while he faded away bit by bit. It’s what he did to forget the fact that his own brother wants him to hide himself in all his varieties of light.

It’s the one constant in Henry’s life and he does it now, gets lost in the words and tries to forget the throbbing to his own heart.

It’s the first time it doesn’t work.

.-

Henry doesn’t know how much time passes when his door creaks open and he looks up to a face he put to memory long ago, even if he pretended otherwise.

“Alexander?”

“Cinderella,” he grins, slow and warm like molasses. “‘How cruel, your veins are made of ice water, and mine are boiling.’”

Henry’s heart feels like it’s just lodged into his throat, his eyes never leaving Alex’s own.

“Excuse me?”

“Wuthering Heights,” he says nonchalantly with a one-armed shrug while stepping closer into the room and pushing the door shut. “It’s your favorite book to read when you’re overwhelmed.”

Henry’s lips pinch, sitting up completely now, regarding Alex fully. “Is that right?”

“Mhmm. You like Sense and Sensibility when you’ve done well on a paper. And you have a secret copy of Little Women stuffed under your bed for whenever Bea messages you and you begin to miss her.”

“Don’t tell me you’re a stalker, Alexander,” Henry says, pretending that the butterflies swarming in his belly are just from nerves of speaking to him after so long and not from the pleasure of him knowing Henry without his evening realizing it.

“You’re not that difficult to figure out, Fox. I’ve told you: you’re just a bimbo with great legs and an accent that makes people think you know two shits about anything.” Alex flops stomach first on Henry’s bed, his head resting up against Henry’s thigh. It’s against Henry’s will when his hand moves forwards to card through Alex’s mussed curls.

“Charming, you’re truly so charming, Alexander. Do you know that?” Henry says blithely.

“The newspapers call me charismatic,” he smirks airily, making it so Henry can’t help but snort.

“Prick.”

“Says the guy who ghosted me,” Alex counters.

“The phone works both ways, love,” he says condescendingly, hating how something golden and splendid is coiling somewhere deep inside of him, merely to due with Alex’s presence.

“Pfft.” Alex gets up now so that they’re face to face, brown eyes boring into blue. “Do you know what you told me after the first night we slept together?”

Henry doesn’t have the slightest clue, so he just shrugs helplessly. “You’ve got a good mouth?”

“Shut the fuck up, you ass. I’m being serious.”

“So am I?”

“You called me a fucking distraction,” Alex hurls, like it’s been something that’s been clawing against him for a while now, itching to be spoken, clacking against his teeth and finally pouring out with vengeance. “You said you had to do well in your studies and you didn’t need a distraction.”

Henry furrows his brows, confused to the point he’s trying to make.

“And you agreed, if memory serves me well,” He says defensively.

“Yeah, because I wasn’t about to be rejected by some rich, pretty boy.”

“I hope you thought a bit more of me than that,” Henry teases, inches closer to him so that the tips of their fingers touch on the bedding.

“You also have a truly remarkable shoulder-to-waist ratio.” Alex shrugs, and Henry knows he’s trying to be a shit, but he still preens. Likes the reminder that Alex is just as much into him as he is Alex.

“I don’t see what’s wrong here.”

Alex shoves at Henry’s forearm, hard.

“The problem, you prick, is that for some fucked-up reason I was actually into you, like a lot.”

Henry’s head swings up from where it was lazily gazing at Alex’s lips, waiting for a chance to kiss them.

“Like truly into me? Like you want to go steady and out on dates and spend the night in my bed?”

“I mean, whatever the non-old man sounding equivalent of that is,” Alex tacitly agrees, head cocked like he’s trying to parse out Henry’s own feelings.

And for his part, Henry can’t believe what he’s hearing, what Alex’s saying, what he’s confirming. This must be a dream, a figment of Henry’s imagination. Stuff like this doesn’t happen to him, they happen to the protagonists of his favorite stories, not real life.

“Wh—What? Why?”

“Dude, that’s what I’ve been asking myself for the past year and a half,” Alex gripes, rocking back; Jesus fuck, he’s nervous. He’s just admitted all his feelings like that and he’s waiting for Henry to either confirm or shoot him down. Henry’s the one with the upper hand here, and it’s awful.

Holy fuck.

“You—you said you liked me,” Henry says tentatively. “But now, do you—erm, ahem,” Henry coughs awkwardly, and Alex is gracious enough to answer the unspoken query.

“I didn’t break up with Liam last semester because he didn’t root for the Cowboys, dumbass.”

“Oh,” Henry blinks, befuddled, which makes Alex roll his head back so fiercely that Henry’s afraid he might strain something.

“I broke up with him because I’ve got this massive, irrecoverable, disgusting thing for this blonde prick. A douche who puts too much on his shoulders and tries to prove something to someone who isn’t even here, and who is so goddamn dense that I have to spell my feelings out to him like he’s actually a frat bro instead of just pretending to be.”

Henry feels himself going scarlet, feels it how his heart blossoms with wanting, unrestrained and painful in its ferocity.

“But Nora?”

Alex’s face goes blank, and then a sickly green color. “Dude, why are you bringing my sister’s girlfriend into this?”

“Wait—You’re not? I thought you still had a, erm—a thing for her?”

“She’s not the one I just gave a Twilight-level cringe speech to, is she?” Alex harrumphs, crossing his arms and scowling at a point over Henry’s shoulder.

“So, you really like me?” Henry asks hopefully.

“I swear to God, Fox: if you don’t tell me how you feel in the next five seconds I’m going to—“

Alex stops speaking right then, is interrupted by Henry’s slamming lips and desperate palming and long limbs tangling into one another.

“You’re a monster,” Alex pants once Henry’s lips finally unlatch from his and Henry’s almost tearing off his shirt.

“I can’t believe you actually want this,” Henry says in contrary. “I’m a mess, you do realize as much, don’t you?”

Alex looks endeared when he smiles, shrugging helplessly. “I like messes.”

Henry can’t help the laugh he lets out, relishes when Alex finally gets a good hold of him and lays him back so that they’re pressed skin to skin and he’s spouting out nonsense about Henry’s eyes and mouth and dick, each point punctuated  with a kiss across Henry’s protruding collarbone, helps him shed off the last of his clothing.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,”Alex marvels, making Henry’s cheeks redden and causing him to hide it by kissing along Alex’s jaw.

“I’ve liked you for so long,” Henry can admit in the blanket of night, is soft when he slants their lips back up against each other, back arching when he feels Alex pressing inside of him, stretching him out. He’s always so gentle with Henry, even before this was supposed to mean anything. But, holy fuck, who’s he kidding––this has always meant something, even when Henry pretended otherwise.

“You’re the most stubborn fuck I’ve ever met,” Alex tells him, making it sound like an exaltation. “You always had your mind set, know exactly where you’re gonna go.”

Henry groans when Alex puts in the second slicked up finger, followed quickly by the third.

“Ah-Alex, ‘Lex, please.”

“You’re so smart and beautiful, and you have such a good heart.” Alex just keeps on talking, only stopping occasionally to pepper a kiss on a spot around Henry’s face.

Henry feels his eyes prickle with wetness, knows that it’s a combination of feeling so much and feeling so exposed, so open in Alex’s eyes.

“You’re amazing, sweetheart,” Alex whispers, kisses the tears away before he lines up and thrusts into him, something this side of painful with the first couple canting of the hips, until he hits that miraculous point that makes Henry’s insides go feral and something ferocious unfurl within him.

“Alexander, please. Please, love, please,” Henry pleads, hands scratching against Alex’s back and head tossed with yearning.

“You’re so good, so perfect, Henry,” Alex says like an oath, pushing deeper and harder into him, biting down on Henry and making him shout as he cants his hips up to meet each of Alex’s own.

Alex is spouting out a new round of praises towards Henry’s brilliance and butt and beauty and Henry can hardly handle it, feels the white streaks landing on his belly right before Alex begins speeding up in a graceless round of thrusts, finishing  with a blown out expression, slowly pulling out and tossing the condom to the trash bin beside the bed.

He collapses half on top of Henry but he doesn’t mind, moves slightly so that the blanket is covering the both of them and kisses Alex’s shoulder tenderly.

“I think I might love you,” he whispers, snuggling closer to Alex.

“Good,” he yawns, slings an arm around Henry’s torso and curves against him. “Makes us even.”

.-

Next week Henry calls Philip and tells him to kiss his ass, and that he doesn’t have to prove shit to anyone.

“You’re sexy when you’re mad,” Alex tells Henry when he hangs up.

“You always think I’m sexy,” Henry sniffs loftily.

“Guilty as charged.” Alex shrugs, pulls up to kiss him senseless once more, making everything go delirious.

[bebewheezy]

Psychopath

It’s Always Been You- Part 2 

Notes: hi guys! here’s part two p.s. this took me 5 pages to write >:)

word count: 3540

TW: smut, swearing

part one 

I ran straight to the bathroom once we got into the small room Rosalie and I shared before we were assigned our permanent safe houses. I emptied the contents of my stomach to the thought of Calum’s bloody hand on me, along with the menacing and predatory look his eyes held as they bore into my soul. His eyes looked eerily familiar, but I was currently too distraught to try and remember where I had seen them before.

“Rosie, I can’t be jumped-in tomorrow,” I cried into my hands once I flushed the toilet.

“What do you mean you can’t be jumped-in? Y/N there’s no going back after this, you can’t back out anymore without being killed!”

“I didn’t say I was backing out,” I whispered as I refused to meet her gaze. 

Rosie and I had been together since sixth grade, we had been through anything hell, better known as life to God’s favorites, had thrown at us, but I wasn’t sure if she’d forgive me for my choice of initiation. I had kissed a handful of boys in high school, but nothing ever went further than making out with a hand job, yet here I was about to fuck a gang member.

“Are you sure you wanna do that? I mean, if you chose getting beat up, at least we can do it together. Y/N if you chose the second option, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.”

“Rosie, I don’t have a choice anymore. After what Calum saw from me tonight, he’ll make sure I won’t survive the jump-in, I have to do this in order to live,” The heavy sobs were returning and my mind was racked with the thoughts of how horribly wrong tomorrow could go.

I was in bed thirty minutes later after crying more in the hot shower, ready for the start of many sleepless nights ahead.

*****

Rosie woke me up at the crack of dawn to start getting ready. We were instructed to wear all black, and make sure our hair was out of our faces. It took me almost forty five minutes to successfully braid my hair, I wasn’t used to doing it myself, my sister or grandma would usually do it for me in the mornings before school. I couldn’t even fix my hair properly, how was I meant to start an adult life, let alone be in a gang?

“How are you holding up so far?” Rosie asked once we had finally finished physically preparing for the rites today.

“I think I’m doing okay, just slightly terrified,” I responded solemnly.

“You still have time to change your mind. I don’t want you making the wrong decision, and honestly this feels like it.”

“This is the right decision, Rosie, I can’t leave you alone like this. I won’t let them turn me into someone I’m not or let the fact that I chose to have sex with a guy make me a slut,” I retorted.

“It won’t make you a slut, I’m just worried the males here will think of you as an object and not respect you,” She placed a loving hand on my shoulder.

“I won’t let them, Rosie.”

We sat in comfortable silence, with the occasional funny comment about our situation, for the next hour until the rites were set to begin. I was determined to use being sexed-in to my advantage, I was going to become high ranking and respected even if others viewed me as a whore, which I wasn’t. I didn’t know who I would have to spend the rest of the day with, but I was praying it wouldn’t be some ass who viewed me as his once it was all over.“

Y/N, Rosie, it’s time,” Spencer knocked on our door. “Have you made your decisions?”

“Yeah, I’m the only one being jumped today,” Rosie blurted out before I could hardly process the question.

“Alright, Rosie come with me. Y/N, stay here and wait for me to come back, I shouldn’t be too long,” Rosalie and Spencer walked out of our small room, and I was left alone to my thoughts again.

I wasn’t a hundred percent sure this was the right decision, but I was also completely sure that I wouldn’t make it through the beating. I couldn’t go back anymore, it was time to muster up all the courage and confidence in my small body, and get this shit over with. It only took Spencer a few minutes before she was knocking on my door again, and I was off to fulfill quite possibly the worst affair in my life.

She took me to the living room of the mansion of a safe house all the recruits were staying in. There was only one other girl sitting on the couch, I knew this wasn’t a popular way to join, but I assumed there would maybe be a few other girls with me, not just one.

“Y/N, this is Anastasia,” Spencer introduced me to the small framed brunette in front of me. “You guys wait here until Ashton gets in, he’ll explain how this is all going to work. I’m going back outside to help with the others, so good luck and don’t let them stick their dicks in you without a hard ���yes”, and be careful.”

“Thank you for all your help so far, Spencer,” She nodded at my statement and offered me a slight smile before walking out. I knew it was going to be hard to find people to become my new family, but I felt like Spencer was a good start.

“So why did you choose this instead of being beaten to a pulp?” Anastasia asked me. Once I got a good look at her features, she was actually very pretty. She had wavy brown hair and big blue eyes, and freckles dotted her nose along with her soft olive colored cheekbones,

“Umm, I couldn’t handle all the violence we had to watch last night, figured this wouldn’t be too bad in comparison,” I let out a dry laugh, this was going to be worse than a beating.“

Yeah, I mean it shouldn’t be too bad. I’ve had sex with enough guys to know how to get it over with fast,” She said. I stared at her for a few seconds before just nodding my head in agreement. “Wait, you’re not a virgin, are you?”

“I actually am,” I whispered and looked down into my lap in shame.

“Oh my god, why did you decide to do this? You can’t let anyone know you’re a virgin,” Anastasia frantically spoke.

“What? Why not?”

“Because if they find out you won’t make it past today alive. It’s an unspoken rule that if a girl who gets sexed-in is a virgin, they let as many guys fuck you as they want before you can continue initiation,” Her voice was quiet as we spoke, and my nerves officially returned.

“Oh my god, I’m completely fucked.”

“Are you the only two girls who aren’t getting the shit knocked out of them right now?” An unfamiliar voice echoed through the entryway. I turned my head to be met with a raven haired man standing next to none other than Calum himself. Yep, I was utterly fucked now.

“Uh, yeah it’s just us two. I’m Anastasia and that’s Y/N,” She responded for the both of us, I was too in shock to see that Calum wasn’t beating up the rest of the kids outside, but standing in front of me, staring at me like I was a piece of meat.

“Great that makes things easier. Calum and I will be initiating you, so if you’re both ready we can get started now,” Ashton said kindly, I could tell he was trying to make us feel better about our decision, like it wasn’t a big deal, even though it was the biggest thing I’d done so far.

“I’ll take Y/N,” Calum spoke without missing a beat. Oh my god, I was actually going to die today. I should’ve fucking chosen to get the life beat out of me, that would be less painful.

I didn’t get time to process anything as he stepped forward and grabbed me by the wrist, leading the way to his bedroom. This was worse than I could’ve ever imagined, I was on the verge of tears by the time he shut and locked the door, trapping me with him.

“What’s wrong, princess?  You don’t seem very excited about this,” Calum said in a low tone while cupping my cheeks. He stared into my scared eyes for what felt like eternity, before tilting his head and leaving open mouthed kisses to my neck.

“I apologize for not crumpling at the mere sight of you, like you’re probably used to,” I snapped, but my shaking hands said more than the rough exterior I was throwing up.

“Why are you nervous? I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart, calm down for me,” His smooth voice did nothing but agitate me more. How was he so speaking of this with such a leisurely tone? How many times had Calum fucked a girl and claimed it was for initiation?

“I’m not nervous, let’s just get this over with.”

“No, I’m not doing anything with you until you tell me why your entire body is shaking, and I’ve barely kissed you.”

“I can’t tell you, Calum. Can we please just do this so it’s done?”

“You’re going to tell me now, as second head assassin, I have superiority over you. Now tell me what’s going on,” He took a step away from my trembling form, attempting to give me room to breathe, but it did nothing.

Instead of telling him the truth, I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his lips to mine. I felt him begin to pull away and finish the conversation we were having, but once I bit his lip when he pulled away, he was putty in my hands.

I let my hands roam his muscular torso, and land on his biceps to keep myself grounded. He knew exactly what to do to make women speechless with his touch, as it began to wander across my body, but I refused to let him have that much effect on me. Before I could pull him closer, and start walking towards his bed, Calum pulled.

“You’re a virgin.”

“Wow, you got that just from a kiss?” I joked and tried to attach our lips once more, but he wasn’t finished speaking.

“No, I figured it out due to your shaking, and your subpar kissing abilities,” He smirked.

“Subpar?”

“Subpar, little recruit.”

With that comment, I kissed him with as much passion as I could muster. This must’ve sparked something in him, because he began to kiss me slower, and with more lust than before. His hands slid down to the backs of my thighs, and I gasped as he pinched one of them while sliding his tongue into my unaware mouth. After giving me a squeeze, he lifted my legs from the ground and I wrapped them around his waist while he started moving toward the bed in the middle of the room. I pulled away from his needy mouth to remove my shirt, and my eyes met his soft brown ones. They looked so different now from last night, now they were filled with concern and want, while last night all I could make out was anger and a thirst for blood.

“You don’t have to be nervous with me. I’m not gonna tell anyone, you’ll only be with me for now,” Calum reassured me that even though Anastasia said not to let anyone know of my virginity, he wasn’t going to let the other men abuse me. I nodded my head at his statement.

“Why are you being so kind to me?” I questioned while avoiding his gaze. “I thought this was just going to be me getting fucked for about an hour while trying to hold back tears.”

“I don’t know, I just feel like I need to protect you right now,” He cupped my cheek in his over sized hand, before sitting up and ripping his shirt off.

Calum was the most beautiful man I had laid eyes on, none of the scrawny high school boys I had dated could even compare to him. His golden torso and right arm were covered in dark ink, making his beauty ethereal. I groaned at the sight of him, if he looked this marvelous just shirtless, I was in for a world of pleasure. He wasted no time in ridding us both of our remaining clothing.

“This is going to hurt, baby, but I promise it’ll go away soon,” He told me as his hand slid down my stomach and stopped right above my core. This was the farthest I had ever gone with a guy before, and I’d be lying if I said the thought of losing it to a head assassin, made my blood turn cold.

His fingers didn’t inch any further, but instead hovered over my entrance, circling and prodding it. I tried grinding my hips down to get more friction, only for Calum’s free hand to pin them against the bed, his actions never faltering. He went on torturing me for several minutes, working me up until he couldn’t take my whines any longer, and started pushing his longer inside of me. Even with beyond aroused, the slow pull and stretch he caused made me cry out slightly.

“Shhh, it’s okay baby,” He pushed the loose hair falling out of my shitty braid out of my face. His finger moved in to the first knuckle, and my body shook with pleasure and anticipation. “Taking my finger so well, princess. I can’t wait to get inside of you, you’re so fucking tight.”

His finger finally pushed in to its full length, and I couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. I had done this a handful of times by myself, but my hand was pale in comparison to Calum’s. He slowly worked it in and out of me, eliciting more whines and moans from my gaping mouth.

Even when he started twisting his fingers, it soon wasn’t enough to fulfill the need I felt boiling in my lower stomach.

“Calum,” I mewled. “I need more, please. God, please give me more, Calum.”

“What more do you need, sweetheart?” He replied in a cocky tone. “Do you want another finger? Or do you need something bigger, baby?”

I moaned in response because I couldn’t form any coherent thoughts, let alone answer his question. He slowed his finger to a stop in retaliation.

“I need you to tell me, yes or no? I’m not giving you anymore unless I hear you say it,” His voice was low but strong, and filled with determination.

“Yes, Calum please fuck me,” I said after I took a few moments to regain my composure. He bowed his down to catch my lips in a sloppy and feverish kiss. I felt his cock against my entrance, and my breathing hitched.

“It’s gonna hurt again, baby, but I’m gonna try my best for it not to,” I nodded in response as he kissed me again.

One hand took grasp of his throbbing dick, and the other went back to my pussy, circling it around to spread the moisture and then up a little to rest lightly against my clit. The ghost of his touch made me twitch with sensitivity and his finger pressed down on the small nub, then started rubbing it in figure eights. My noises picked up again at the sensation. I felt Calum press his cock further against me, before inching the tip of the head barely in. He went further in while still relentlessly playing with my clit, and the pleasure from that helped ease the pain, but once he had fully sheathed his length into me, the pain took over. I felt like I was being torn in half, it hurt so bad and I couldn’t look past it. The noises of pleasure coming from me turned into pain, and Calum took note of how uncomfortable I was. He stayed still inside of me, waiting for the pain to subpass, but it never did and unwanted tears started spilling down my face in front of him, for the second time within twenty four hours.

“Y/N, I need you to calm down for me baby,” He spoke softly as he rested his forehead on mine. The fingers on my clit started working again, and my tears soon dried as my body melted into his once more. “I know it hurts right now, but I promise it’ll get better soon. You’re going to make it worse if you start freaking out.”

“Okay,” I muttered. “Keep doing that, please, it’s making me feel so much better.”

“Yeah? You ready for me to start moving now?”

“Fuck yes.”

He didn’t waste a second before almost fully pulling out, only to slam back into me with a grunt. His fingers didn’t leave my clit, and his other hand pressed my lower stomach down onto the bed, restricting any movement from my end, and giving him full control over my body. Part of me wanted to fight back and take some of my control that I thought I had in the beginning, but I realized that I really had no control over the man above me, and even if I did my body was too spent to do anything. Calum was fucking into me like I was his, whispering sweet encouragments to me while also dominating me beyond comprehension. I imagined my first time would be intimate, but that dream was out the window when I decided to lose it to a gang member.

His cock was hitting so deep I could feel it in my stomach, and when he brought my left thigh to rest on his shoulder so he could go even deeper, I lost all control of my body. I was shaking all over, my hands were grabbing at the sheets beneath us desperately as my release got closer and closer.

“Let go for me, sweetheart,” He panted above me. I wasn’t sure if Calum was remotely close to cumming, but I didn’t give a fuck, my limbs were on fire and I needed to cum more than anything. “I got you, let go.”

After a few more thrusts, my high was washing over me like a tsunami, and I couldn’t see straight. Calum fucked me through it, and from the way he was moaning and had my hips in a bruising grip, I knew he was almost done for.

“Can I cum inside you, princess?”

“Yes, fuck, I have the implant, please cum inside of me, Calum,” With that, he came hard, and his hips didn’t stop once during it, prolonging our orgasms. He slowly pulled out of my tight, and cum filled core and leaned his head close to mine.

He caressed my cheeks with his tattooed covered hand, staring into my eyes, not saying a word. I was confused, I’m pretty sure when girls get fucked-in to gangs, they aren’t treated with this much adoration. His brown orbs burned into mine, and I could feel all the raw emotions he had bubbling inside of him. I took his hand in mine and placed gentle kisses to his palm, then his wrist and each of his knuckles. Calum tenderly laughed at my actions, then gave me a kiss to convey all the emotions he was trying, but failing at showing me. I didn’t understand any of his actions, and I was too scared of ruining our delicate moment to ask.

After he stared at me for a bit longer, he got off the bed and went to the connecting bathroom to grab a washcloth. He wordlessly cleaned my inner thighs with it, before kissing each of them, and throwing the small cloth into his laundry bin. He laid back down onto the bed and pulled my back to his front, into a spooning position. This was all incredibly new to me, I had never been treated this warmly by a male before.

“Umm, shouldn’t I go? To finish the remaining rites?” I quietly asked. In the back of my mind, I pleaded that Calum would let me lie here in comfort with him for eternity, but I refused to allow myself to think like that after a meaningless fuck.

“No, just stay here for a bit,” He said against my neck. “We can finish the initiation later today, or tomorrow.”

“You know I thought you were sort of a psychopath when I first met you.”

“That wasn’t quite how I thought my first conversation with you would go,” Calum said as he cradled my waist in his massive arm. “I’m sorry if I scared you last night, it was just in the heat of the moment and when that side of me takes over, I get carried away.”

“So you’re an actual psychopath then?” I teased.

“I prefer the term creative, baby.”