#i know i deserve to be shamed for this but it was fun okay

[basalt-havic]

genuinely disturbing the amount of people who claim to be pro-body positivity but jump at the chance to shame someone for not being attractive to them, personally

[watchmegetobsessed]

OLD GRUDGES (part 1)

A/N: wooohoooo im bringing something new!!! i feel like it happens so rarely it's like a miracle lol anyway, this will be hopefully a couple of parts (probably about 3) and lets all pray i will actually finish it lol

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Everyone loves Harry Styles. It’s a known fact, not just amongst the people who actually know him, but all around the world. He is known as one of the most unproblematic celebrities, someone who gives just as much if not even more respect as he gets, always kind and patient with others, rarely loses his temper. It’s hard to imagine that there is anyone walking this planet who doesn’t see him as a lovable, sweet man.

Well, it might be hard to imagine, but there is actually one person who has a very different opinion when it comes to the british popstar. 

And that person is music producer, Y/N. 

The interesting thing is that their history goes way back into his 1D days. Y/N was an up and coming name in the industry, just started working with bigger names when she got the chance to produce several songs on the band’s third studio album. Harry remembers her as a bubbly, funny girl who is passionate about her job and is also excellent in it. Working with her was easy and motivating, she was always eager to perfect songs to an extent Harry couldn’t even imagine and that’s why songs like Story Of My Life, You & I and Midnight Memories were such hits. Y/N put her heart and soul into them, which eventually earned all the recognition they deserved. 

Harry loved working with Y/N and she was in talks of working on their fourth album as well, but the deal ended up ditched and she went on to do other projects and they somehow had a fallout. It was a shame, but he hoped his path would cross hers again. 

Years and years went by and so much changed by the time their professional ways finally met again. Jeff brought her name up when Harry just started writing for his fourth solo album and Harry gave him the go to do whatever it takes to get her on the project. A few weeks passed and Harry didn’t get any confirmation about her and just when he was about to bring it up to Jeff, he hit him with the news.

“Y/N is in for five songs. Contract should be signed by Wednesday and you can start working next week.”

Harry wondered why it took so long to get her on board, but he brushed it off because he knew she was a big name now herself and had plenty of offers from which she could choose from. He was excited to work with her and simply see her again.

It was utter shock for him when she was the complete opposite of what he remembered. Okay, that might be an overstatement, but Harry could feel something was off instantly.

She was still bubbly and fun, but for some reason, she had a certain iciness and bitter attitude whenever her focus was on Harry. To anyone else it was unnoticable, Harry knows, because he asked Jeff about it.

“What are you talking about? She is awesome,” the manager said with a shrug and Harry tried to tell himself it was all in his head, because if Jeff doesn’t see it, it’s not real.

But it kept happening and it felt even stronger when it was just him and her in a room. Sometimes she even pretended like he wasn’t there, sometimes her snarky comments were all he got and they just strengthened him in his belief. 

He wanted to ask her about it, he tried, several times, but his attempts just bounced right off her icy behavior so eventually, he gave up and there was only one thing left for him to do.

Return what he was getting. 

Yes, it is childish, but he felt like he needed to deal with her unreasonable hatred towards him somehow and this was the easiest way. Was it a smart idea to practically become enemies when working together on his album? Of course not. But it just happened.

And going against each other became their thing. 

They were great in arguing, disagreeing even when they could easily compromise, riling each other up and lashing out on each other when the tension had been building up for hours. It got to the point where others started to notice that something was off between the two of them and when Jeff questioned Harry about it, he couldn’t give him a reasonable explanation.

“She started it,” he said and instantly felt like a kid, telling on his classmate at school. But this is all he could say, because he had no idea why she was acting this way. And he has to live with it while they work together.

Something is off. Harry knows it. Something about the melody… or the guitar… or is it the lyrics? He can’t tell, he has listened to the recording a million times so it all melts in his ears and he can’t identify what’s setting him off every time he hears it. 

“Why don’t we take a break?” Jack, the technician suggests, turning in his chair. “Y/N will be here in twenty, I’m sure she’ll–”

“Okay,” Harry snaps, just so he doesn’t finish. He knows what he wanted to say. 

She’ll know what’s wrong and will correct it in a second.

Y/N always knows what’s wrong and most of the time it’s a perk, of course it is, but today, Harry feels like it’s gonna make him want to crawl out of his body. Maybe it’s because he’s been in the studio for five hours and he got nowhere or maybe because Mitch will have his first ever solo gig tonight and Harry has been worried his fame or relation to him might ruin this experience for him. 

Either way, today he is just extra pissed by the fact that Y/N will be the one to solve this mystery. 

“I’m gonna grab a coffee,” he clears his throat, standing up from his seat. “Do you want one?” he offers, feeling a bit guilty he snapped at Jack.

“Uh, yeah, just an espresso is fine, thanks man.”

“Sure, I’ll be right back.”

Putting on his headphone, Harry jogs across the street to the tiny coffee shop he’s been a regular at. He likes the place because they are discreet and their coffee is just simply amazing, though they swear there’s nothing extra in it. 

He waits for the two coffees at the end of the counter and scrolls on his phone in the meantime. Emails, messages, there’s always something to answer to. He sends out a few replies before he ends up in his calendar. It’s neatly color coded and he takes pride in keeping it up-to-date all the time so he can always be on top of his game, no matter what. 

His eyes land on one particular date. Five weeks from now Y/N’s contract expires and if the five songs are done by then, she’ll be out of Harry’s life again. Seeing how the work is going, she’ll easily outdo that number so there won’t be any reason for talk about an extension. 

An unsettling feeling spreads in his stomach as he stares at the date but he doesn’t have time to figure it out because  he is snapped out of his thoughts when the two paper cups are placed in front of him. He is trying his best to keep a positive mindset as he returns to the studio’s building. With the two coffee cups in his hands he makes a right turn and then stops at the door, seeing Y/N sitting where he did previously, already listening to the recording with Jack with a critical expression on her face. 

Harry doesn’t interrupt them, just stays put and waits for her feedback. When she is done listening, she leans back in her seat.

“It’s the bass. Or more specifically the lack of it. Can you double it? Let’s see how it changes.”

Jack is quick to do as she asked and then he starts the song again and…

Harry wants to scream and laugh in bliss at the same time, because it’s perfect now. He’s mad he couldn’t spot such an obvious thing, but he is also happy it’s finally sorted out. It’s just a shame Y/N was the one to do it and not him. 

“Great, so this is done then,” he makes himself noticed as he walks into the studio and hands over one of the cups to Jack. 

When he looks at Y/N he can see that familiar, irritated look on her face that’s almost always there when he’s around. He hasn’t decided if he wants to physically wipe it off, or…

“Thanks for bringing one for me,” she comments in a bored tone, turning back towards the screen.

“You weren’t here when I went out.”

“But you knew I was coming.”

Harry opens his mouth, but then closes it, because this time she is kind of right. And it irks him even more today.

It’s gonna be a challenging session today, Harry thinks as he takes a seat.

It’s always exciting for Harry to be behind the stage when he’s not the star of the show. Kind of like a whole different world.

He hasn’t been here for long, but he’s been trying his best to stay as unnoticed as possible and let Mitch take the spotlight. Just a few minutes ago Sarah put him on Scout-duty which he gladly took up on, he’s always happy to spend time with the little guy. This time he is letting him explore freely and he’s just following him around to make sure he’s safe. Scout seemingly enjoys the adventure with uncle Harry, who doesn’t really pay attention where he is heading. 

That’s how they end up in the green room where Y/N is.

Y/N and Sarah have worked together a while ago, which is a random coincidence how they are connected outside of Harry. Because of their history, Y/N is often where they are, however she was never around when Sarah and Mitch were playing for Harry. 

Scout runs up to Y/N, arms in the air, asking to be picked up and Harry stops a few steps away from them when he realizes who he just found.

“Hey there, little guy! Are you all by yourself?” Y/N asks, settling the boy on her hip.

She’s changed since they parted ways in the studio. Harry has always admired her sense of style, which mostly consists of basic pieces, almost like a capsule wardrobe, but there’s always something extra, something vibrant on her that makes her sets interesting. Tonight she is wearing a simple black dress with a rather low back cut, simple heels, simple makeup, but she added a silky scarf with vivid colors and shapes around her neck that brings Harry’s attention to the curve of her neck and collarbones, almost as a cheeky invitation for his eyes to her naked skin. 

He has to fight the urge to touch her.

Despite the spiteful relationship they’ve been sporting lately, Harry had to deal with a rather unreasonable desire for Y/N in a physical way.

Unreasonable, because he never thought he could be attracted to someone who pisses him off so easily, yet there’s been plenty of occasions when Harry found himself imagining scenarios he could never admit to her, not when she hates him with such obvious passion.

Tonight it’s not just the outfit, but also the way she’s handling Scout. It’s not just women who find it incredibly hot when the opposite sex is great with kids, Harry can definitely feel something inside him moving as he watches Y/N sway from side to side with the little boy in his arms.

“Uncle Hazza is here!” Scout points at him, answering her previous question. Y/N looks up and because Harry was already looking at him, he catches a slipping moment where there’s no irritation on her face, but it returns quite fast when her gaze settles on him. 

“Ah, hi,” she says, lips pressed together as she nods, acknowledging his presence. 

“Hey. Long time no see.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it. Who says that? Why did he even say anything else other than hi? He smacks himself in his mind. 

Part of him expects her to say something like ‘not long enough’ but she just keeps quiet and turns all her attention to Scout. Harry feels out of place, he is supposed to be babysitting, but Y/N is taking care of Scout, Harry knows he is in good hands but Sarah asked him to watch over him. Should he leave? Or just keep standing there awkwardly?

“You can go, I’ll watch him,” Y/N says, as if she could read his mind. 

“You sure?”

“I’m pretty sure I can take care of him until Sarah is back.” Her reply is not just dry, kind of offended, nothing Harry wouldn’t expect from her, but it’s still irking him.

“I didn’t say you’re not capable, I just–”

“I’m not in the mood for this,” she cuts him off with an icy look. Harry is too stunned to reply, just watches Y/N walk away with Scout. 

He almost finds it amusing how easily she can piss him off, not many people have been able to do that, in fact, Harry thinks she does it the best. 

Clenching his jaw he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and then just lets it all go. 

The after party is always kind of Harry’s favorite. The stress is over, it’s just the relief and celebration that is left.

Mitch’s show went well, that’s what Harry expected, but it’s still great he was right. Seeing his friend be the star of the show was an experience he is glad he could be part of. Now that the core of the group has moved to a nearby bar, Harry has loosened up thanks to the couple of drinks he’s had. 

He’s been mostly sticking to the familiar faces he knows, rotating between the same few people  while enjoying how under the radar he is currently. 

The more drinks he has had, the less he’s been able to control where his gaze goes. To be exact, he’s been finding himself looking Y/N’s way the past hour or so. That damn dress and scarf, it’s like she’s put a spell on him that forces him to keep wanting to look at her. 

Harry is not experienced with feeling like this. Being attracted to someone who he hates, it’s such an ambivalent impulse, he can’t think straight. Or maybe it’s the amount of tequila he has drunk tonight, either way, it’s getting a rise out of him. 

From the corner of his eye he sees her slip out to the back where the smoking area is, he hesitates, shifts his weight from one leg to the other before making the leap and heading after her. He has no plan, no idea what he wants to ro will say to her, but he just feels like he has to talk to her.

Stepping out to the dimly lit back alley he is met with a few people scattered around, having a cigarette with drinks in hand, talking or scrolling on their phone and then he spots Y/N on the left, standing by the wall, cigarette in one hand, the remaining of her drink in the other as she stares ahead of her. 

She doesn’t smoke regularly, but she does enjoy one in certain social settings or when she’s had a few drinks. Harry knows it from years ago, because they shared a cigarette at a party, back then she seemed thrilled to spend time with him, he remembers all the conversations they had while working together, telling each other stories, sharing their plans, Harry truly thought they would remain good friends on this extraordinary journey, yet they ended up here.

As Harry walks towards her, she notices him and he sees her lips twitch in annoyance. 

“Care if I join?” he asks and she just shrugs without a word, avoiding to look at him. 

They stand there in silence for a while, she is lazily puffing the smoke out from time to time.

“Is it still just an occasional thing?” he tries to strike up a conversation.

“Mhm,” is all he gets as a reply.

“Have you tried to put it down fully?”

“Why are you doing this?” she snaps at him, finally looking his way. 

“What?”

“Why are you trying to chit-chat when we both know we don’t do that?”

“And why don’t we?” He challenges her. “Tell me why we are like this in the first place, because I have no idea.”

She stares at him for long moments and he awaits her answer like nothing before, but then she shakes her head and turns to the pin beside her, puts the cigarette out and flicks it into the bin. Then, without another word she is already heading back inside.

It takes a moment for Harry to start moving again, but he is quick to catch up with her in the hall that leads to the restrooms. 

“Y/N, give me a fucking answer!” he demands, grabbing her wrist to pull her back before she could escape, but she shakes his hand off as she comes to a stop, turning towards him.

“I owe you nothing!” she hisses at him. “I owe you no one, but especially you!”

“What the fuck does that suppose to mean?! I never thought you owe me anything!”

“I’m not doing this, Harry, leave me the fuck alone,” she growls and tries to leave, but Harry pulls her back again, determined to get an answer this time. 

“Don’t think I will just swallow everything down forever. I will get to the bottom of this, whether you like it or not. It’s your choice if you make it hard on both of us.”

She is looking back at him with wide eyes, this time his hand remains on her arm as they stare each other down in the empty hallway. Neither of them knows what will be their next move, the tension is so thick, it’s almost suffocating.

But then it all changes.

If someone asked who moved first, they wouldn’t know. One moment they are standing like stone statues, barely even breathing, then the next moment they are kissing like there’s no tomorrow.

It doesn’t take long until Harry has her pressed up against the wall, his hands roaming her body, feeling her up the way he fantasized about before, they are both rough and impatient, she is clawing at him, moaning into his mouth when his hips press against hers and she feels how hard he’s gotten already. 

Blindly, Harry pushes the closest door open which happens to be the staff’s bathroom that someone left unlocked, lucky for them. Still glued together they stumble inside, Y/N kicks the door open before Harry pushes her against it and he locks it before his hand returns to her tempting body. 

He has never acted like this when it comes to sex. He does like to spice things up sometimes, but the way he’s biting her lips or unbuttoning his pants or reaches under her dress to pull her underwear down is just so out of character for him, yet so freeing. 

Nothing is said, but when her hands pull his hard, leaking dick out of his pants, there’s a fleeting look they exchange that says it all, just how much they both want it. 

It’s the fastest pace he’s ever experienced, yet the most passionate too. They moan at the same time when Harry pushes into her and starts moving in a rush, desperate for relief. She’s panting and whining for more, the only form of speaking she is able to as she holds onto Harry who is focused on keeping up his quick and steady pace while holding her left leg up to ensure the perfect angle. 

The animalistic need is there for them both, making them act like this is what they must do to stay alive. It’s messy, fast and mind-blowing and they don’t need much time to reach the peak. As she comes her nails dig into her shoulder and she bites into his bottom lip so harshly it draws blood, but he doesn’t care, only follows her into bliss just a second later. With the last bit of his consciousness Harry pulls out right before he comes, covering her thigh with the white, sticky evidence of just how much he enjoyed the past minutes. 

They are breathing heavily and Harry feels like a thick haze is still lingering around his head, stopping him from realizing what just happened. Y/N however is ahead of him and when reality comes crashing down on her, her instinct to flee kicks right in. Harry is still trying to clear his mind when she grabs a paper towel and cleans herself up as fast as possible and Harry only snaps out of his trance when she is already unlocking the door.

“Y/N, what the— wait!” He can’t go after her as she slips out of the room because he is still pretty indecent, so he has to pull his pants up and can only rush out then, but by that time she is already gone.

He’s quite frantic as he tries to find her in the bar, but she is nowhere to be seen. Harry returns to the rest of their group, hoping to catch her somewhere but she has vanished into thin air. 

“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” he asks Mitch, his eyes still roaming the place.

“Nah, haven’t seen her since she went out to smoke.”

Harry groans and makes his way outside, maybe she’s there waiting for a car, but as he steps out to the street he sees no trace of her. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he doesn’t hesitate before dialing her number. The line rings once, twice and then… it goes to voicemail.

“Hey, this is Y/N. Do whatever you want after the beep.”

“Fuck!” Harry ends the call and he has to stop himself from throwing it against the nearest wall. 

This is not how he planned. Well, he didn’t plan any of it, especially not fucking Y/N like a horny teenager. He wanted to solve this whole issue between the two of them but instead he just created another one.

A stupid, giant one. 

NEXT PART

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[monzabee]

what you do to me – lh44 (+18)

masterlist

Summary: The one where Lewis returns home to you – the one thing he desperately wants, but won't let himself have completely.

Pairing: lewis hamilton x fwb!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: angst, feelings, friends with benefits relationship, smut!, slight choking, unprotected sex (wrap your willy, don’t be silly!), slight manhandling?, pwp, minors dni!!

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! my boyfriend forced me to watch hellraiser the other day, and there was this one scene that i could just not thinking about so i wanted to write something inspired by it, and who better to write it about than sir lewis hamilton?? also, i reaaaallly wanted to write a friends with benefits thing and it was so much fun, i honestly wasn’t expecting. the title of this fic is actually a john legend song that i love and i think it fits the vibes for this fic, so please feel free to give it a listen if you're interested! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

It’s a shame Lewis doesn’t spend more time in his Monte Carlo penthouse during the season because it’s a space he enjoys spending time in so much. He doesn’t mind being alone in his home – if anything, it’s refreshing after spending so much time being the focal point of so many cameras during the season. Also, technically, he is not alone he supposes; he has Roscoe to keep him company when he’s home, after all.

Coming home from a successful season is rewarding, he feels as if he’s deserved the rest he looks forward to. On the other hand, coming home from a not-so-successful season? Well he feels like shit – both mentally and physically. That is not to say that he doesn’t appreciate the time off, though, he is more than happy to not drive for weeks and just enjoy the winter break. Coming home is also always kind of bittersweet. He catches up with some of his friends he didn’t have time for during the season, his family who always support him through thick and thin, but most importantly he tries to make time for you and your… well, arrangement.

He knows something is wrong the minute you reply to his text about him being home. A simple okay is not a response he is used to getting from you. Alas, he shakes off the unease and chalks it up to a hectic day on your end. The pitter patter of Roscoe’s paws on the hardwood floors is enough to distract him from the situation, given the fact that the puppy is impatient for his dinner and is looking at the driver with pleading eyes.

“Okay ‘Coe,” he mumbles as he motions the kitchen with his head, “let’s go.”

The way Roscoe wobbles towards the kitchen brings a small smile to Lewis’ face even though he is still hung up on your answer. After he’s done feeding the puppy, he decides to grab a quick shower to ease the tiredness that comes from a long travel day. The hot water cascading down from the rainfall shower does a good job of taking care of his sore muscles, and he is more than happy to stay under the warm water if it means the soreness will go away. That is until he hears banging coming from his front door. He has every intention of just ignoring the person on the other side of the door; however, as the knocks get more and more persistent, he gets out of the shower with a groan. Wrapping a towel around his hips, he marches towards the front door, and looks through the peephole only to end up opening the door quicker than he would’ve liked.

His voice is confused as he mumbles out, “Lovey?” But you just straighten up from your position of leaning against the wall and throw your bag on the floor as you push your way through his apartment and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug. He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches as you attempt to hide yourself in the crook of his neck, and he is not sure what he’s supposed to do with his hands for a moment. “Hey,” he calls out softly, “what’s wrong?”

You pull back slightly to look into his worried eyes, “Just kiss me.” Your voice comes out somewhere between a whisper and a sob, and you can see the hesitation in Lewis’ eyes, but you just pull him towards you as you press a soft kiss on his lips, “Please.”

“What happened?” He tries once again to get an answer from you, but you shut down his attempt as you press your lips against his once more, more assertive this time. And who is he to deny you your wishes? So, like the perfect gentleman he is, he reciprocates your kiss with a one of his own as he wraps his arms around you to signal you to jump. Thankfully, you are so tuned with each other that you end up jumping up anyway, and he picks you up as you wrap your legs around his hips. Closing the door, he starts walking back towards his bedroom as your lips start moving more frantically against his own. “Slow down,” he warns, pulling back to give both of you a chance to breathe, “we have all night.”

Whining at the loss of contact from his lips, and you let your dissatisfaction known by attempting to roll your hips against his bare stomach, “Don’t wanna.” There’s still a lingering sob in your voice, but it is more reflective of the neediness you feel now that you have him between your arms – and legs. Lewis lets his hands roam down towards your ass to give you a warning squeeze – a one, maybe you would’ve been threatened by it if you weren’t so lost in him at the moment. You try your best to ignore the look he gives you, one filled with sternness; so instead, you move your lips downwards towards Lewis’ neck with another roll of your hips. “I missed you.”

He stills the movement of your hips as he simultaneously releases an appreciative groan at the way your lips feel on his skin. “I missed you too, lovey.” He is careful as he approaches his bed and sits down on the plush mattress with you still in his arms. Wrapping a hand around your hair to tilt your head back so he can look into your eyes again, he attempts to keep himself from becoming hard from the mere prospect of you wrapping your body around his. His eyes search yours for answers as to your sour mood, “Tell me what’s wrong, bad day?”

“Try bad month,” you scoff, letting your hands slide over his, somehow, still damp torso. “You weren’t here,” you explain as you free yourself from his hold on your hair and take off your sweatshirt, “don’t wan’ to talk about it.”

“Well, I’m here now.” A sudden realisation that you are not wearing anything under your top comes to Lewis, and he has to mentally restrain himself from doing something rash. “Not wearing a bra?” He asks, one of his eyebrows raised.

You let out a confirming hum, “Not wearing any underwear either.” Giving him an innocent smile at the groan he gets out, you shrug your shoulders nonchalantly, “Thought they’d get in the way.” His hands feel warm on your bare skin as he drags them up on your body to gently cup your exposed breasts, causing you to brace yourself by hanging onto his shoulder for support. Whining as you feel his thumb make contact with your sensitive nipple, you decide to pull him in for another kiss, mumbling a breathy, “Kiss me,” against his lips. 

He obliges your request, of course, but he doesn’t let you control the kiss like you would’ve liked to. Instead, he stops the kiss by gently biting down on your lip before you can deepen it. With a small pat to your hip, he mumbles, “Get up, let me see you.” The look he gives you is just so full of adoration that you have no other choice to get up from his lap with the slowest moves you can muster. His eyes never leave you when you take a step back so that he can see you, all of you, and with the small nod he gives you, you begin taking off your leggings and shoes. That’s the thing about Lewis – for someone who is in the spotlight most of their time, he loves watching. And it is not only limited to the bedroom, you realise, he watches you even when you are doing mundane things together, like grocery shopping or walking Roscoe, domestic things that couples do together. But you can’t think about that, no, because both of you agreed that this was only physical and nothing more. Shaking the thoughts away, you straighten up from your bent position only to find Lewis looking you with a much darker look in his eyes. He’s dangerous, when he looks like that, you realise, he could break you into pieces with just his words, and the worst part is that you’d absolutely let him. “Pretty girl,” he whispers into the distance between you, and you take the hand he extends towards you for him to pull you against himself. The feeling of his lips on your skin almost feel feverish, and you find yourself releasing a gasp. “You’re the prettiest girl ever, lovey.”

“Lewis,” you brokenly whisper, your voice would be bordering on whiny with all the neediness that comes with it, “please, I need you.” The pleading look you give him is vulnerable, if not desperate.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips leaving another open-mouthed kiss, this time closer to your lower belly. His voice does a good job of soothing your erratic mind, his arms envelope you as he promises, “Whatever it is I’m here now, tell me what you want.”

He does a good job of putting you on the spot, you think, but unlike your usual self, you don’t have the patience for teasing tonight. “I want you to fuck me,” your voice comes off stronger than before, but it wavers as you also add, “please.” The last word brings a small smirk to Lewis’ face, and you let out a shriek as he quickly throws you onto the bed. “You almost scared me to death,” you complain, pushing out your lower lip in a pout.

“You’ll be fine,” he lets out a breathy laugh while quickly getting rid of the towel still, miraculously, hanging on his hips. The smirk on his face grows as he watches you shamelessly checking him out, but he never breaks his gaze from yours when your eyes meet as he wraps a hand around his cock to jerk himself for a few times. You spread your legs to accommodate his body as he leans over your lying figure by using his free arm as support. Rubbing the tip of his cock through your slick slit a few times, you can feel his breathy chuckle hit your skin while his lips run over your jaw to leave small kisses. “You’re so wet for me,” he mumbles, and the whimper that leaves your lips when he makes a point to rub his tip over your clit wins another chuckle, “you’re gonna be good for me?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble as you nod frantically, “yes Lu, I’m gonna be good, I promise. Please, just fuck me.” You try to tempt him by wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him closer – either you are successful and he gives in, or he is just as desperate to get inside you as you are desperate to feeling him because he complies with your movements as he nudges the tip of his cock into you in a slow push forward. The stretch is burning every single time, and usually he gives you enough time to accommodate his size before proceeding to fuck your brains out. But this time, he doesn’t waste any time as he pushes himself fully into you until he’s buried inside you to the hilt. The gasp you begin to let out turns into a silent scream as the feeling of being full consumes you, “Fuck, Lewis–”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothes you through the initial pain, “you’re alright, just breathe th for a bit.” And you do what he tells you to because… well, you know he won’t do anything to hurt you. He brings his free hand towards your face to cup your cheek, which you respond by turning your head towards the warmness. “Tell me when the pain goes away,” he whispers against your skin – he finds he absolutely loves the way your skin flushes every single time he fucks you, and the thought makes him freeze for a second. Love? That is not something he should be thinking about, not especially when he’s buried inside you, because you both agreed–

Deciding to respond wordlessly, you press a soft kiss in the middle of Lewis’ palm, whilst also attempting to roll your hips, but then whining because of the additional pressure, “Please, Lewis, please move.”

That must’ve done the job of breaking Lewis out of whatever trance he was in, because once he hears your whiny voice pleading him to move, he starts thrusting his hip in and out of you in a rhythm that simply leaves you breathless in mere seconds. It’s the stress of the season, you think to yourself, but Lewis’ movements just get faster and deeper until he hits that one spot inside you that makes your whines turn into a scream and has you arching into him. You can’t see his reaction with your eyes fluttered close, but he stills his movements for a few moments as he looks at you as if you’re the most precious thing in his life. He waits until your erratic breathing to get back to normal before he starts rolling his hips against yours again, but this time the tempo he adopts is much slower, sensual, and almost… too intimate for it to only be considered physical between the two of you.

Your eyes flutter open as you look at him with confusion, “Wha– What are you–?” But he only cuts you off by pressing his lips against you to swallow your question in a kiss. The slower tempo is surprisingly more pleasurable then his usual style that you’ve dubbed fast and furious, and every time his hips roll at a certain angle, he brushes your clit in a way that makes your feet curl in pleasure.

He is breathless when he pulls away from the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, but then again, so are you. The way he seems to gaze into your eyes make your breath hitch, and if you thought that was Lewis showing his emotions, he decides to put them into words. “So good for me, lovey,” he moans, yes moans because one thing you’ve learned from the start is that real men moan, “you were made for me, weren’t you?” His accent gets thicker, which is a tell that he’s getting there, but he won’t let himself come before he makes sure you’re taken care of. “Look at how you’re taking me, reckon I can feel myself if I place my hand on your belly?” It makes him laugh when you whine as you attempt to slither your hand towards your stomach to test his theory, but one deep stroke of his hips and your arms envelope them around his shoulders to use him as a support. “Perfect, you’re just perfect for me, hm? My perfect, pretty, little girl.”

“Please,” you whimper out, the tears that form in the corner of your eyes threatening to fall, “I’m so close.” It’s been such an emotional day, and a shitty month that all you wanted was to be consumed by him –  and now that you have him in your arms, acting like you are more than just two friends who use each other for something so trivial and human as urges, you don’t want to let him go. Especially not when he makes you feel like you could love him for the rest of your life. Even if just the thought of it is enough to make your heart race. Needless to say, the sob you let out is unexpected on both of your ends, and you know he’s about to stop when he slows down even more, but you give him a stern look through your tears, “Don’t you dare stop.” You moan, loud enough for his neighbours downstairs to hear, once he picks up the pace again, but it’s still slow enough for it to be considered love making and not fucking by both of your standards.

He knows you’re close when your walls start clenching around him, which makes it much harder for him to compose himself. So, being the perfect gentleman he is, he starts rubbing your clit with one of his hands, his fingers work hard to bring you even more pleasure. He watches in amazement as you trash around under his body and as your whimpers and moans get louder gradually – until you are coming undone around him, starting to sob because of the pressure gets released in your tummy, that is. His hips still continue their languid movements, just like the faster movement of his fingers, as he fucks you through your release, mumbling sweet nothings and encouragements into your ear. Lewis does his best to kiss the tears that escape from your eyes, his breath fanning over your feverish skin.

“So good,” your moans get softer as you get calmer after a while, though your voice is still scratchy, “wanna feel you more, Lu.” Sliding your hand between your bodies to take his hand away from your clit, the loss of his touch makes you whine softly and he watches you in confusion while still continuing his movements slowly, but you see the way his eyes light up with a dark look when you wrap his fingers around your throat, and thankfully he understands the message as he tightens his hold just the way you like it. “Yeah, just like that,” you moan, encouraging him to pick up the pace. This time, it’s your turn to whisper praises riddled with encouragement, and you know it gets to him, because every single stroke his hips deliver end up making him fill you more and more, as if that was possible. The sobs coming from your lips transform into ones of pleasure, bringing Lewis closer and closer to his release.

“Look at me,” his voice is sharp, and it makes you immediately fix your eyes on his. There is an immense sense of wanting to please him, or rather make him proud within you, and he rewards you with a burning kiss that leaves you panting and wanting more as he spills himself into you. As he pulls away to moan out your name, his thumb dragging down your bottom lip. You gently bite down on his thumb while you manage to get out a satisfied moan, eyes closing ever so slightly as you feel him spill into you, and he keeps pulling you even closer to himself when he lets his body fall next to yours.

You have no idea how he manages to still stay inside you, but you can feel his lips pressing gentle kisses across your hairline, and brushing away the sweaty strands. “You feel better now, lovey?” Smiling at the tiredness dripping from his voice, you hum airily, a satisfied smile on your face while you move your neck to look at him.  “Good,” his whisper brushes your lips as he nudges the tip of your nose with his, earning a giggle from you while he wipes away the dry tears on your cheeks.

“Do you have to leave?” There is a whiny undertone to your question, and it makes him give you a gentle smile.

“Not for a while,” he assures you, then he presses his lips softly on yours in a small kiss, “I promise.”

He grabs your hand to weave his fingers through yours, pressing gentle kisses to your knuckles as he keeps silent for a moment – because he knows at that moment, just because you asked, he’ll cancel every single plan he’s made, just to spend more time with you so that he can make you smile like that. “Until you get sick of me, that is.” Your tired laughter fills his ears until it is interrupted by a yawn. He carefully moves you so that he gently takes himself out of you, and rolls you sideways so he can wrap his arms around as he pulls you close to cuddle. “Go to sleep, lovey, we’ll talk in the morning,” he mumbles as he presses soft kisses to your bare shoulder. You close your eyes with a smile on your face, burying yourself into his chest as much as you can, and hear him mumble, “My lovey,” before promptly falling asleep.

You pretend you didn’t hear him in the morning because the arrangement the two of you made was about keeping things causal.

But you respond by squeezing his hand three times in return anyway.

And he responds.

[byuntrash101]

what you deserve

soft dom!juyeon x f!reader x mean dom!hyunjae smut | mdni 4.2k your bf younghoon is just a dick... your best friends just want to show you what you deserve nsfw tags under the cut

slut shaming reader (hj calls her easy), lots of teasing, fingering (because have you seen juyeon's hands? gotta put those to use), begging, pet names (princess, doll, baby, kitten), praising, degradation (slut, whore), slight dumbification, nipple play, unprotected sex but reader is on the pill (these stunts are performed by professionnals don't try this at home), spitroasting/eiffel tower, multiple orgasms (f), oral (m), creampie, double penetration, anal

a/n: would you believe me if i said it took 1 whole ass fucking year to finish this? (yes i started writing on the 1st October 22) (smh)

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Deep down you knew it wasn’t true. You knew Younghoon couldn’t be your soulmate. Most of the time he would ditch you to go hang out with his friends and not return your calls or texts for the whole night then turn up home completely drunk and smelling of an other woman's perfume, even if he denied it every time. So saying Younghoon wasn’t the best boyfriend was to say the least an understatement. 

Deep down you knew that. You knew he didn’t really love you but just used you for entertainment purposes. 

So why? Why? Did you still believe that little voice in your head? Despite the sleepless nights, despite the countless tears shed, despite the pain. You still believed you two had a chance, you still believed you could fix him… 

But did you still love him?

“What are you doing?” the stern voice of Hyunjae erupted from beside you, sitting with you on the comfortable and cushioned couch, making you jump and hurriedly hide your screen from his scrutinizing eyes.

“Huh? Hmm… Nothing” you lied, quickly typing out the rest of your text to your boyfriend.

“She’s talking to Younghoon” Juyeon snitched, seated right at your other side, as he perfectly accomplished a dangerous maneuver with Princess Peach’s pink kart securing the first place right in front of Hyunjae.

Hyunjae groaned but you didn’t know if it was because he was certain to lose the race or if it was well… because of you. 

“Y/N!” He shouted putting the controller down before even finishing the race.

Well… you knew now.

“I can’t believe you’re still with that fucking asshole” Hyunjae whistled through gritted teeth.

You knew Hyunjae despised Younghoon, hence why you were trying to hide away the screen from the eyes of your best friend. But as you turned the device the other way Juyeon snatched it from your hands. 

“What did she send ?” Hyunjae avidly asked.

“Please don’t read it” you asked Juyeon, pleading eyes bordering on begging to preserve the ridiculous trace amount of pride you had left and not read yet another text in which you bent over backwards for your ungrateful boyfriend.

“I’m not gonna read it” Juyeon declared. You exhaled in relief while Hyunjae scoffed. “But I am going to take it away for the rest of the night”. 

“What? Please give it back” you tried to reach for it but Juyeon was way taller and had longer arms there was no way you would be able to take it back from him.

“No. Just enjoy a fun gaming night with us. Okay?” Juyeon smiled at you with that adorable eye smile that you’ve been unable to say no to since middle school.

“Fine”

You played a little more Mario Kart but it was as if the atmosphere had changed.

“Can I ask you something ?” Juyeon finally asked. 

There he goes again… You thought.

The three of you were best friends for almost as long as you could remember and you knew them like the back of your hands.

When something awkward like that happened Hyunjae and yourself would rather ignore it and you would give each other time to forgive and forget but not Juyeon. He would just bluntly speak his truth.

“Sure” you said as you paused the game and Hyunjae groaned again.

“Why him?” Juyeon asked, putting his phone down. You sighed in annoyance and the 

question.

“I don’t know, Juyeon, OK? I don't know why I love him.” You said as you rubbed your aching temple.

“You can do so much better though!” He protested while Hyunjae looked at you with stern eyes.

“You deserve someone that’s going to be thoughtful and kind” Juyeon almost whispered with his deep voice, bringing the back of his hand to your cheek. 

With this simple touch the atmosphere had changed again. Juyeon’s cat-like eyes fixed on your lips, leaning dangerously as you felt his warm reassuring touch on your cheek. It felt safe and somehow you didn’t have it in you to pull away.

“Someone like me? Maybe?” he murmured, his lips grazing yours. He paused right there. Giving you one last chance to pull away, to remain faithful to your morals but… how could you? You felt the heat radiating from his face and his soft breath fanning your cheeks. You didn’t want him to stop. 

So he leaned in to close the distance between your lips and finally kissed you. The electric charge from the thrill of kissing your best friend traveled from your lips all the way down to your core, making your guts stir in excitement.

Juyeon’s hand moved from your cheek to your nape to gently press your lips further onto his own, slightly parting them to let his tongue lap at yours. Heat pulled in your lower stomach while your eyelids fluttered close, losing yourself in this kiss. Juyeon’s large palm sliding up your thigh as he kissed you softly.

“Right, my princess? “ he whispered, breaking the kiss, leaving your lips yearning for more, you nodded, looking at him through your lashes when you heard Hyunjae scoff behind you.

The brief sound brought you back to reality. You whipped your head to your side where you are greeted by the icy cold gaze of the older one, eyeing you scornfully. 

“You’re wasting your time” he said, maintaining the unwavering eye contact. “She doesn’t care about this…” he brought his hand to your cheek caressing slightly before he shifted to entangle his slender fingers around your hair “She only likes pain” he said before suddenly giving a quick and sharp pull, ripping from your lips a surprised whimper, which made Hyunjae smirk evilly.

“I knew it” he whispered, bending over you and pressing his hot lips to your cheek. "You only yearn to be treated like the little whore that you are. You want to be my little slut. Want me to hurt you, huh?" he said before he used your hair again to make you turn your head, breaking your neck into position and crashing his lips onto yours. The difference with Juyeon was blatant, overwhelming even. Hyunjae was devouring you. It was clear he wasn’t intending to ask for anything. He was demanding, he was taking what was his. And you were ready to give it all up to him… To them.

You felt Juyeon’s rough hands wrap around your waist from behind while he planted soft kisses and bites from your nape to your ear. Licking and nibbling around it while you felt his hands make quick work of rolling up your skirt past your waist line. You gasped when his large palm brushed against the thin skin of your inner thigh which Hyunjae saw as an opportunity to kiss you even deeper as you moaned into his mouth.

“Spread your legs for me, doll” Juyeon cooed, lips still pressed to the wet patch of skin on your neck. “Good girl” he praised when you did. His large palm brushed over your clothed center and you arched your back in an unpremeditated reflex, pushing your hips forward onto the older man. You felt Hyunjae’s lips pull into a sly smirk.

“Really?” he said, breaking the kiss “Already offering yourself like this?” he chuckled. "You're so fucking easy. Anyone could get it with you"

You whimpered and squirmed in embarrassment but kept your legs wide open nonetheless, which Hyunjae didn’t fail to notice. He scoffed.

“What a little slut you are” he drew back, eyes sweeping across your whole figure to finally settle on your most private part.

When Juyeon finally pushed your panties to the side and let the living room ceiling light shine directly on your center you felt like you were going to faint from the adrenaline rapidly rushing to your brain, making your breath itch in your throat. Hyunjae caught his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Look at that we barely even touched you and you’re already this wet?” Hyunjae spat with one cocked eyebrow, peering at your slicked and glistening folds with disdain.

You opened your mouth to talk back, to defend yourself but you could only deeply sigh in bliss as Juyeon's rough hand brushed against your unclothed bundle of nerves. And it was only then that you realized how right Hyunjae was and how wet you actually were. 

Your wetness had soaked through the panties and was nearly dripping down to the floor. Juyeon had no trouble gathering and spreading it all over you. He gently and slowly circled your swollen nub, teasing it, lewd wet and squelching sounds erupting from the shameless act. Making you inexorably wetter and hungry for more. 

He kept teasing you slowly as he laid wet kisses on the side of your neck, heavily breathing into your ear while Hyunjae palmed his hard member through his tighter-than-ever pants thoroughly enjoying you being spread in full display for him.

After what felt like hours of teasing you finally gathered the courage to protest in the form of a tiny high pitched whimper.

“What's wrong, my baby?” Juyeon huffed into your ear before sucking on your lobe, the heat from his mouth raised goosebumps on your skin.

“Please” you mustered, barely above a whisper.

“Please what?” he asked as you felt his lips on your neck being pulled into a smirk.

“Please I want your fingers inside me” you murmured as if you almost didn’t want the words you were speaking to actually be heard but to no avail. Both of your best friends heard you clear as day.

“Pathetic” Hyunjae said as he seemed to be palming himself with more pressure, looking anything but displeased.

“Anything for you, my princess” Juyeon cooed and immediately sunk his middle finger inside you, a disproportionately large palm resting over your mound. He circled his finger deep inside and you felt his blunt nail graze on your g spot which made you whimper and throw your head back, resting it on his shoulder.

The dull pleasure was making your head spin so much that you didn’t even hear when Hyunjae unzipped his jeans and slipped out of his boxers.

“Yeah finger fuck her. I’ll fuck her throat” he scoffed while he approached you, hard dick in hand. “Come here” he said as he forcefully pulled you towards him. The hot tip pressed against your closed mouth and precum glazed your bottom lip.

As if the stars aligned, at the exact same time as Hyunjae pushed his cock past your lips Juyeon slipped a second finger inside you, thick and long fingers stretching you out so perfectly. You moaned as Hyunjae slipped inside you, his taste spreading on your tongue, adding even more fuzz to your already foggy thoughts.

“Fuck” he said under his breath, grabbing a fistfull of your hair, bending your neck backwards and forcing you to look up at him. The pain on your scalp took your mind off the rising pleasure Juyeon was inflicting on you and you looked up at the older male with teary eyes while he kept on pushing his dick inside your wet mouth until he had to force the last couple of centimeters down your throat. And he stayed there. Look down at you as you choked on his length.

“Such a good girl for us. You take him so well, baby” Juyeon praised you as he picked up the pace, making your eyes roll back. “So pretty all stretched out and wet for us.”

“Keep your mouth open” Hyunjae whispered before finally pulling out to let you have a quick breather before he smashed his hips back into your face, setting a rapid rhythm. The burning sensation in your throat made your heart race and as Juyeon was having his way with you, circling and flicking your clit you felt the precious build up of your release forming in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck” Hyunjae groaned as he kept on the furious pace. “It’s like this mouth was made for me. Perfectly fitted little cocksleeve” he tugged at your hair again, making you moan on his length.

You almost lost your mind when Juyeon brought his second hand to circle your clit as the other one was still pumping in and out of you. Your muffled moans grew louder on Hyunjae’s cock, the vibrations making him shiver. 

“Baby you’re so tight” Juyeon murmured in your hot ear. “You wanna cum?” he asked, slipping a third finger inside you and you almost came on the spot as you were deliciously stretched out top and bottom by your best friends. “You can cum, kitten.”

It’s the only thing you needed as your body was waiting for this command to immediately let go of the knot. You quivered and moaned, while your jaw went lax around Hyunjae. Your center tightly gripping on Juyeon’s digits, desperate to ever let them go. Twitching and spasming in delicious bliss.

“Good girl” Juyeon cooed as he gradually slowed down allowing you to ride off your high at your own speed.

“I can’t believe you fucking came already.” Hyunjae spat at you with mean eyes as he pulled his cock from your agape mouth, you took a deep breath and sighed in bliss.

But you looked down when you felt two hands going up your thighs and you were met with Hyunjae’s glacial eyes.

“You won’t need that anymore” without a heads up he tore away your panties, ripping them to shreds with a grunt as you gasped in surprise. “I want to know how this little pussy feels like” he whispered through gritted teeth, eyeing you like candy, avid hands pulling at your hips to bring you closer to the edge on the couch. In some kind of protective reflex you wanted to close your legs but Juyeon hands that were still glistening with your wetness kept them open.

“Can you be a good girl for us and keep your legs nice and spread like this?” his deep voice asked softly. The tone was soft, slightly contrasting with the strong grasp on both your thighs.

You nodded.

“Good girl”

Hyunjae didn't wait for a second. He brought his scolding hot tip to your folds and glazed himself into your juices, thoroughly coating his length as he pumped his fist around it a couple of times before pushing the tip in. 

Immediately your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and your arch your back into the couch, biting your bottom lip trying not to moan. That attempt turned out to be a failure as Hyunjae progressed inside your wet heat. When he bottomed out you let out a small cry of pleasure. As Juyeon felt your thighs twitch lightly he withdrew his hands to bring them up to your chest and kneed your breasts. His large hands lifted your top and pulled on your bra releasing your beautiful tits which made Hyunjae grunt as he fucked himself inside your cunt. Juyeon’s big palm laid over the two lumps of sensitive flesh and worked them gently, his fingers curling around your nipples to roll them around.

“So pretty, baby” Juyeon cooed into your ear, looking over your shoulder at how your tits bounced every time Hyunjae drilled his cock into you. Juyeon can’t take it anymore, he also wants to know how you feel around him and you feel him slip from behind you. You instantly miss his warm hands over your body. But the disappointment is short-lived. Because you feel his hand softly wrap around your jaw, pulling your face to look up at him. Your gaze quickly dropped from his gentle eyes to his thick cock laying heavily in his hands as he pumped himself a couple of times approaching the wet tip to your lips. 

Instinctively your lips parted to let your tongue swipe and have a taste of his essence. Which made Juyeon hiss in pleasure, fist growing stronger around his cock, making the veins of his forearm pop. He drove his cock into your mouth, earning a low grunt from him. You lips painfully stretched to accommodate to Juyeon’s girth.

“Fuckk” he cursed under his breath. “Such a good girl taking my cock like this”. He said wrapping his long fingers around your nape, giving you an encouraging push. You didn’t need more to quicken your pace, gobbling his cock as far as you could manage without hesitation.

“What a fucking whore” Hyunjae grunted as he gave you one particularly strong thrust, the sharp pleasure making you moan on Juyeon’s length. “You love cock so much? Look at you swallowing his cock like it’s your only goal in life?” He picked up the pace smashing his hips into yours. Your attention switching from Juyeon to Hyunjae. “Is that it? Your only goal is to be filled with cocks?”

“Phhfuckk” you attempted to say, your mouth full to the brim.

“So pretty baby.” Juyeon cooed as he started to thrust into your mouth when your attention got diverted. “So pretty full of cocks”

The coil in your guts tightened again as your gaze fluttered between Jueyon’s soft smile and Hyunjae’s mean eyes. Once again close to the edge.

“Keep going. She’s going to cum” Juyeon said to his friend. Not daring to take his eyes off your wet ones. Hyunjae scoffed.

“Again?” he said, gripping your thighs tighter and drilling his cock into you harder as he felt your cunt clamp around him, dangerously fluttering. “Go ahead and cum. It’s all you’re good for.” he said, one hand leaving your thigh to slap against your cunt. The pain made you choke on Juyeon. 

“Fuck” he grunted while you mumbled intelligibly, earning another slap before Hyunjae started to draw small and quick circles on your swollen and painful little clit.

That made you cross the edge again. Your body shook against Hyunjae’s relentless hips. Your pussy clenching around him and fluttering in delicious and intoxicating pleasure. Screams of bliss muffled by Juyeon’s length, making him shiver, bucking his hips into your mouth a little harsher.

Hyunjae pulled out quickly and wanted to stuff you back but was interrupted by Juyeon.

“Come on man, it’s my turn now” Juyeon said, taking his dick out of your mouth, letting you take deep breaths as you slowly came down from your high.

“Fine” Hyunjae spat as he got out of between your legs. “I was almost done” he mumbled.

Juyeon sat beside you on the couch once again he looked at you and patted his thighs.

“Ride me baby” he said and you immediately hopped on his lap. Your tits shoved in his face he took a deep breath, letting his brain be soaked with the pheromone filled smell of sex that was imprinted into your sweaty skin.

You took his length between your fingers and pumped a couple of times before you sunk your hips into his cock.

“Ffffuck” Juyeon sighed, before licking a big stripe between your tits, collecting the glistening sweat.

Hyunjae didn’t miss one second of the show. He pumped his cock as he watched you bounce on his friend’s cock. Looking attentively at the way your pussy spread wide to take him in, spitting him out covered with your slick, all of that forming a beautiful soundtrack of moans, grunts and squelching wet sounds.

Hyunjae kept on fisting his rock hard and dripping cock as the same rhythm as you lifted your hips and let them smash back down. 

“How is it in there, dude?” he asked Juyeon.

“F-fucking great” he responded not taking your tits out his mouth.

“Yeah I know. Slutty cunts are the best. Because they just suit anyone.” He said letting his free hand slap your ass. Making you arch your back and bounce even harder. A silent plea for more. And it’s exactly what you got. “And this one she’s one real easy whore. Letting anyone fuck her raw” He spanked your ass again, even harder this times, leaving a beautiful print behind on your skin. “Isn’t it right, slut?”

“Yesssss!!!!” you panted, bouncing even harder, the familiar build up heating up in your guts again, Juyeon’s large hands gripping the underside of your thighs and aiding you bounce on him while he muffled his moans in your chest. “I’m a slut a real fucking whore for you. I love both your cocks so much”

“Is that so?” Hyunjae said, tilting his head, his lips being pulled in a sly smirk as an idea blossomed in his lust soaked mind.

He approached his tip to your ass, rubbing his hard-on on your cheeks. Before leaning over and spitting a big wad right into your pucker. Making the hole blink.

“Since you love our cock so much. You don’t mind me taking your ass, right?” he said pressing his tip still wet with your slick into your only available hole. 

“Oh G-god” you chocked when you felt your ass being spread open.

“Please” Hyunjae chuckled still pushing inside you. “Just call me Hyunjae” he said cockily as he pushed the last inch into your bottomless hole. 

“Fuckkk it feels so good” he cried out stopping your hips, your nails digging into Juyeon’s shoulders, urging him to fuck up into your cunt. He did so immediately. His dick grazing against Hyunjae’s inside your ass.

“Fuckk” the older one hissed when he felt the coming and going of his friend through the small membrane that separated both your holes.

He started to fuck into your asshole as soon as you looked accustomed to him. He loved to watch the way your asshole dragged into his cock every time he pulled out just to welcome him back into your warmth once he pushed back in.

“Fuck baby you’re so good to us” Juyeon as lightly tugging at your erect nipple with his teeth. “So pretty for us. So fucking good.” He panted fucking his hips uo into you, making your pussy cream around him, wet sounds bouncing of the walls.

He was so close. So fucking close he could taste it.

“Fuck kitten. I’m going to cum soon” he said, grip growing stronger on your thighs.

“Yeah please. Please!! Please fill me up!” you urged when you felt another slap into your ass.

“What a filthy fucking slut begging for cum like that” Hyunjae groaned. “Want mine too whore?”

“Yees fuck please. yesyesyesyesyes!!!” you chanted, feeling both of your holes grip around the cock that were both plowing into you, rearranging your guts so deliciously. 

“Then fucking take it” Hyunjae says slipping his hand into your hair and pulling harshly. Letting his cock pump your ass full of tasty hot cum, his hips absolutely rutting into your ass, grunting and moaning. So much so that it made the cum spill out and drip on his friend's cock. But both of them couldn’t care less.

“Fuck baby. ‘m- c-” Juyeon can’t even bring himself to make full sentences and follows right after Hyunjae. You feel his enormous cock twitch inside you, delivering an ungodly amount of white hot cum right in the deepest part of you, if it wasn’t for the pill you were taking you’d be sure to be knocked up right away. His dick brush again against your soft spot and the way you feel both your holes filled with cum make you tip over the edge. And you find yourself squirting all over both their dicks in a pleasure filled scream. Your juices spray out of you in big streams, completely soaking Juyeon laid under you which makes his hips stutter a little. This orgasm is the most intense one of the night, making both your holes flutter. Your cunt clenching around Juyeon and your asshole blinking around Hyunjae while you pant and moan in complete euphoria.

The next few instants are a blur. None of you speak, only pants and sighs can be heard. All three of you, piled up on top of each other, drained and content. But the blissful silence is interrupted by the low vibrations of a phone..

A phone? your phone!

Juyeon haphazardly reaches into the pocket of his jeans laying somewhere near and holds the device to you.

You have dozens of unread texts from Younghoon and even more missed calls. Poor thing… he’s not used to you going silent on him. Not his precious and naive girlfriend.

You pushed your messy hair out of your face and picked up the call.

“Yeah?” you say voice sounding a little rough, nothing surprising given the things that were just in your mouth and roughing up your throat.

“What the fuck are you doing? Why aren't you answering my texts?” Younghoon asks, panic seeping in his rushed voice.

Hyunjae chuckled coldly behind you.

“Come cuddle, baby.” Juyeon said, pouting so much it was audible.

“WHO THE FUCK IS THAT???? Y/N??? IS THAT JUYEON???”

“Hmmmm” you hesitated before Hyunjae snatched the phone from behind you.

“You guys are done. Don’t call her again”

“WHAT THE F-”

bip bip bip

IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤

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[landitolover]

𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒈𝒐, in which charles isn’t the best boyfriend.. ౨ৎ charles x famous!reader

warnings- toxic charles, cheating, reader is love-dumb… !

y/n 💋

charles what the fuck

tell me it isn’t true??

who is she

cha 🤍

baby it isn’t true

i swear, i love you

she came onto me

y/n 💋

are you sure

cha 🤍

yes, my love

i promise you

y/n 💋

come over?

cha 🤍

i’ll be there in ten

Liked by charles_leclerc, alexademie, maxverstappen1, and 1,092,299 others

yourusername 🤍.

tagged charles_leclerc

View all 6,209 comments

user oh this man has no shame at all 💀

user yn…. 🌝

user girl pls run as fast as u can

user no queen you’re too good for him 😭😭😭😭

user yncharles nation how do we feel

→ user uhm TERRIBLE

→ user poor girl ☹️

→ user nah she definitely knows.

charles_leclerc mon coeur 🩶.

→ user …..

→ user he gave me the eww…

alexademie gorgeous 🤍

→ alexademie he’s there too ig…

→ yourusername 🫶🏻 ily

landonorris 🤨🤨

→ user even lando confused 😭

→ user bro keep charles in line

→ alex_albon me too lando…

lilymhe my girl 🤍🤍

→ yourusername 👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻

maxverstappen1 pretty :)

→ yourusername thank you

→ user SHOOT YO SHOT MAX!!

→ user mr steal your girl 🙏🏼 save her

lilyrose_depp 😍😍

landito

yn are you okay

y/n

uh, yeah? why

alexander albon.

be so fr

charles???

y/n

oh

it was nothing, she came onto him

he loves me guys

landito

whatever you say, yn..

alexander albon.

stay safe queen!

Liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lilymhe, alexademie and 1,249,298 others

yourusername paris

tagged charles_leclerc

View all 6,292 comments

user this is so sad seeing how much she loves him

→ user fr and he’s out there cheating ????

user babe he hasn’t posted u in months why are you still posting him!!! 😭😭

user u are better than this queen 😪

user OPEN UR EYES BITCH

user she’s so strong

→ user not strong enough to leave him :///

landonorris sooo cute 😃

→ user i can hear the sarcasm

→ user LMFAOO

alex_albon yeah stay away from paris…

→ user SPEAK UR TRUTH KING

charles_leclerc ❤️

y/n 💋

chaaa, do you wanna come over?

cha 🤍

I can’t

sorry, chérie.

i’m out with friends

y/n 💋

nono it’s fine

have fun!

i love you ❤️

Read 20:22

Liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, charles_leclerc, landonorris and 1,293,293 others

yourusername time away!! with my favorites 🫶🏻

tagged lilymhe, alex_albon

View all 4,199 comments

user break up with your bf now xx

user too pretty for him

user 🙏🏼 a weekend without ch*rles

landonorris glad to see it!

→ yourusername 😃

lilymhe IT WAS SO FUN HANGING WITH U ❤️

→ yourusername 🤍🤍 love you sm

alex_albon i look gross in that pic

→ georgerussell63 nothing new mate

charles_leclerc so pretty mon amore

→ user the audacity this man has

→ user 🤺🤺🤺

Liked by lilymhe, alex_albon, landonorris, and 29 others

yourprivate when he’s making out with yet another girl 😂! idk what happened because i tried giving him my all 😂😂

View all 8 comments

lilymhe leave him please

→ yourprivate 😂😂 I can’t

lilymhe i don’t want u to be even more sad ☹️

alex_albon FUCK MEN!!!!

landonorris yn u are better than this

→ yourprivate am i though…

georgerussell63 he don’t know what to do with allat!!

→ lilymhe fr!! yn is too good for his ass

y/n 💋

what’s her name.

cha 🤍

what?

y/n 💋

her name

the girl you were kissing, charles

cha 🤍

baby

i was drunk

y/n 💋

don’t ‘baby’ me

and you WERENT drunk charles

what did i do wrong?

cha 🤍

nothing i swear

y/n 💋

I must’ve done something wrong

if you cheated on me TWICE

you probably cheated more than that.

cha 🤍

fine then, i just got bored of you

is that what you wanted to hear?

that i just stopped loving you?

because that’s what happened.

y/n 💋

fuck you charles

i knew I shouldn’t have dated you

I should’ve listened to everyone who told me to leave you.

cha 🤍

you should’ve 🤷

but you didn’t

You have blocked this contact

yourusername • 1 hour ago

maxverstappen1 replied to your story

maxverstappen1

hey, sorry about the break up

charles never deserved you though.

Seen just now

౨ৎ some crazy shit forreal 😭😭🙏🏼🙏🏼 now me personally i could never take charles back (why am i lying)… okay anyways i hope you enjoyed this 🐨🐌🤍

requested by my wife @landovilla ily 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 ౨ৎ

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 15

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: Okay. Back again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You sit up as the faucet runs, the bathroom door slightly open. You look around, searching for your own shoes, not these annoying heels. As you get up, Bucky emerges, swiping his hands over his dark hair. You gulp and stop short. You gape at his shirtless torso. 

“You going somewhere, doll?” He asks. 

“Um, yeah, home,” you tear your eyes off of him. 

“Home? It’s late.” 

“I know but... my mom...” 

“I bet she’s asleep. She won’t know the difference, doll. I can’t let you go off into the night like that,” he insists as he comes closer. 

“But I...” you scour the room for your purse. You really don’t know how you’ll explain it all to your mom. You can’t go home in this dress and makeup. “I have to--” 

“Who say? You’re an adult, aren’t ya? You can stay.” He comes close and puts his hands on your shoulders, “you’re not gonna leave me all alone, are you?” 

“Bucky, I...” you chew your lip. “I had fun...” 

“But you can’t stay and snuggle. I get it. You’re a special girl, maybe I just don’t deserve ya,” he frowns. “And I’m not gonna make you stay but I can’t let you go off alone. So let me get dressed and I’ll drive you home.” 

You look at him. Your chest tweaks. He did all this for you. He’s already half undressed for the day and you can see the fatigue around his eyes. To be honest, you’re exhausted yourself. 

“No, I can’t-- I’ll stay,” you try to smile but you’re too nervous to do more than show your teeth. 

“You don’t gotta feel sorry for me,” he scoffs. 

“Sorry for you?” You pout, “no. How could I—what would I feel sorry for?” 

His throat bobs and he looks away, “you really are a sweet girl.” 

“Bucky,” you step closer, then stop yourself. You notice the muscles in his chest. He’s so strong and big. It’s distracting. “I’m just me. I... you—you own this whole place, why would I feel bad for you? It’s not... that. I’m just...” your lashes flick and your eyes drift down to his muscled stomach. You tear them away in shame, “nervous.” 

“Nervous,” he looks at you, almost bashfully as he keeps his chin tilted down. “About what?” 

“Well, er... everything. You. I... I’m just... it’s all so new, that’s all.” You twist your hand around your finger. “I didn’t mean to... hurt you.” 

He stares at you and takes a deep breath. He stands up straight and comes closer. “Aw, doll, no. Don’t give me that face. It makes me want you even more. To show you that you don’t need to be nervous. I wanna take care of ya. That’s the deal, isn’t it? I’m gonna give you everything you could ever dream of and all I’m asking is for you to keep being sweet to me.” 

He brings a hand up to cup your chin and you shiver. His thumb rubs along the line of your jaw as you peer up at him, “come on.” 

He gently urges you toward the bed. You put your hand on his wrist and stop him. You run your touch down his forearm. 

“I can’t sleep in this,” you look down at the dress. “Too tight.” 

“Ah, you want one of mine, doll?” He chuckles and reluctantly pulls his hand away. 

He turns and strides to the closet. To your surprise, there are clothes inside. Some of them you recognise from the racks of dresses you browsed earlier. He reaches inside and takes out a black button up. He comes back to you as he slips it off the hanger. 

He hands it over and you thank him. You feel the fabric, it’s soft. It’ll be nicer than the pinch of the seams. 

“Can I unzip ya?” He rasps. You sense the tension in his voice, as if he can barely get it out. 

“Oh, sure.” 

You turn your back to him, as much to hide your own burning blush as to hide from the heat roiling from him. You wince as his thumb brushes your skin and he slowly pulls down the tab of the zipper. You quiver out your breath and clutch the bodice of the dress as it slackens. You look at him from the corner of your eye. 

His fingertips trail up your spine and he steps closer. You brace yourself. He sniffs and pulls his hand away. 

“I’ll close my eyes,” he puts his hand over his face and turns on his heel. 

You don’t move right away. His presence is like a noose. You step away from him and put the shirt on the bed. You shimmy out of the dress and swipe it quickly off the floor. You put the shirt on and button it up. You unhook your bra and slide it off one arm at a time before pulling it through it free from beneath the fabric. 

You gather up the shirt and bra and clear your throat, “you can look now.” 

He accepts your invitation eagerly. He looks at you. Nowhere else but you. As you carry the clothing to rest on the dresser, he hums. Your legs tingle as they’re exposed to the room and him. They were before but now you feel even barer. 

As he approaches, you wrench back and face him. He stops to step out of his pants and you watch him in disbelief. He has only his dark briefs left. The twitch under the fabric gives you a start. You squeak and hurry for the bed. That’s not because of you... no, but... 

He follows. You climb up just ahead of him and his weight dips beside you. You push your legs under the covers as he reaches back to flip the light switch beside the headboard. The lamp goes out and he groans as he jostles closer. 

You lay down and just as quickly you’re locked in his embrace. His warm breath fans over your cheek as he nestles in close and brushes his nose along your cheek. His hand traces up and down your side and he clutches your hip. He pulls you flush to him. You can fill him—it—moving against your thigh. 

“Doll, ain’t this nice? Just us, just snuggling,” he purrs and tucks his hand under you, hooking a leg around yours. “I wish it could last forever.” You hum, unsure what to say. He kisses your cheek and hushes your silence, “sweet dreams. Don’t think I could sleep any better than next to you.” 

🃏

Sleep shrouds you in a shallow void. You can sense everything around you. Your mind won’t let go of your strange surroundings or the man next to you. Before you open your eyes, you try to convince yourself it was all a dream. 

You open your eyes to find the truth vivid before you. Bucky entwines himself in your as he snores into your hair. His arm is hooked around you and you’re not sure you’re okay about his hand being where it is. As you squirm, he kneads your ass. 

You reach back to stop him and he growls. The sound makes your chest twinge and you arch your back as his fingers curl deeper into your soft flesh. You cling to him as he holds you close. 

“Mmm,” he drones groggily, “you’re so warm, baby.” 

He rocks his pelvis and you feel just what you did the night before. He’s hard. The realization freezes you. You gulp and put your other hand over his thigh, squeezing him through the blankets. 

“Bucky,” you squeak, “Bucky?” 

“So good,” he continues to tilt his hips in a lewd rhythm. 

You turn to look at him, pulling back to see him. You’re caught in his hold. His eyes are closed as he lays beside you. Is he asleep? 

He continues to roll into you. You don’t know what to do. You’re embarrassed and helpless. He keeps on as you babble and blink up at the hotel ceiling. He grunts and jerks, shakes, then stops altogether. You shudder. 

“Bucky,” you say louder as you writhe in his arm. 

“Mm, ugh, huh,” he mutters as you tap his shoulder frantically. “Doll, what’s--” 

You look down as you feel something wet seep through the shirt. He releases you as he leans back and lifts the blanket. He peeks down and quickly sits up. Before you can say a word, he swings his legs over the edge and stands. He storms into the bathroom and the door snaps behind him. 

You gape after him. When at last you can move, you drag the blanket away from the mattress. You look at the wet spot on your shirt and push yourself up. You’re not sure but you are sure. It can’t be anything else. You’ve heard of it happening to men in their sleep but you always thought it only happened to teens. 

The door opens and you pop your head up. Bucky comes out with a towel around his waist and his hand on his forehead, “doll. I’m so sorry. I was dreaming and...of you, of course, but I got carried away. I didn’t mean to—I didn’t realise...” he swallows and closes his eyes. He tilts his head and drops his arm, “I’m so embarrassed.” 

“Uh, oh, I... I... well, I guess it happens, right?” You can’t look at him.  

“Well, not really. I gotta be honest, I mean, after this, there’s no point lying but... this doesn’t happen to me. Not often. Not since... well, it was a while ago,” he explains. “I guess you just do that to me.” 

“Erm, oh, I... I’m sorry?” You say. 

“Sorry, doll,” he chuckles and nears the bed. “Baby,” his voice grits in his throat, “do you know the last time a woman made me feel anything? At all? You got me feeling all sort of ways,” he exhales with a quake and reaches for you. 

You look at him as he latches onto your arm. He pulls you to the edge of the bed, “come here.” 

“Bucky--” 

He forces you to your feet and wraps you up in a hug, “I mean it, doll, I’m crazy for ya. And I’m tryna be patient but... you can see, I’m struggling. Huh? Can I have a little? Please.” 

You bat your lashes and dare to look up at him. His blue eyes are blazing and his cheeks are slightly tinged pink. Your stomach is flip flopping. 

“I...” you push your lips together and swallow, “what... what exactly... um, what did you want?” 

He trembles as he brings his hand up your arm and over your shoulder. He cradles your head and lets out another purr, “can I taste it? Please?” 

“Taste?” You echo thinly. 

“Baby, you don’t gotta do nothing. Just lay back, right? It’s like kissing. Mhmm. I’ll just be doing it...” his eyes drift lower and his nose furrows as if he’s snarling, “down there.” 

“I... I never...” 

“Promise, I’ll be nice. I just wanna try it. Alright? You say stop, I’ll stop, but baby,” his nails graze your scalp, “I’m getting hard again. It hurts.” 

You stare up at him, speechless. What do you say? What can you say? You’re in this hotel with him. The reason you’re there and could just as easily be the reason you’re not. And he’s you’re only way home. 

All of this, the room, the casino, last night, it’s all because of him. He gives and gives and you don’t see how you can keep taking. You squeeze your thighs together as they tingle. 

“Okay,” you whisper. 

“Okay?” He twitches. 

You nod as your eyes flit back and forth, “er, what... what do I do?” 

He exhales and puts his hands on your shoulders as he parts. He guides you back to the bed until your thighs meet the side, “you just sit, doll.” He shoves you down until you’re on the mattress, “I’ll do the rest.” 

You keep your eyes straight. Your body’s all locked up. You can’t move. He gets on his knees and moves toward you. He reaches under the shirt and grabs onto your panties. He tugs. 

“Help me out, baby,” he growls. 

You lift yourself slightly, just until he gets them past your bottom. You fall back down heavily. You’re buzzing in disbelief. He rolls your panties down your legs and off your ankles. He flings them away. 

He pulls your knees apart and you squeak as cool air grazes along your exposed cunt. He bends forward and kisses your thigh. You squeal. 

“Baby, I promise, I’ll be nice,” he speaks against your skin, his warm sweat smearing up your leg, “just be good. Be good for me, baby.” 

He shoves his head under the shirt and you exclaim as his tongue swipes up your cunt. You slap your hand against his head and thrash. He reaches back to hold your hand against his hair and buries his face into you. He hums and flicks his tongue. It sends a thrill through you. 

Your toes curl and your muscles strain. He keeps his tongue moving, and you push your head back as you lean your pelvis into him. Oh, wow.  

[fuctacles]

Time!

for @steddiemicrofic "time" | 485 | T | cw: mention of blood and broken bone | College AU, commentator Eddie, team captain Steve | Ao3 | part 1

The Tigers are one throw from winning the game. For the friends and family looking, it's just a friendly match between two colleges, but they don't know about the potential sponsors sitting among them. The sports department has been hoping to buy a new coach, so different teams wouldn't have to rock-paper-scissor who goes to the away games during the season.

Eddie's been hearing about it a lot, against his own will.

"DESERVED!" he yells into the microphone as Jason Carver trips and falls on the court. "I mean, foul! Somebody give that guy a yellow card!" he changes tracks as one of the professors glares at him through the glass. With a smile, he gives her a friendly wave.

"See, that's why I say there's no shame in wearing velcro shoes. There is so much blood, you guys. I think I see a bone? This is brutal, dear adventurers, be grateful you don't get the visual, only the kid-frie— well, the version that won't make you faint, filtered by yours truly."

There's a slam on his glass, so he waves again at the teacher. 

"Oh! The coach is calling for time! Yes, I already know they are not playing charades, thank you. But you know what, I think it would be great entertainment between sets. Uh-oh, the Tiger's captain is glaring at me. He's walking up the bleachers. This may be the end of our adventure, dear listeners, the journey was magical and—"

"Eddie!"

He squeaks, slamming the mute button in panic. 

"Captain!" he grins, turning around to greet the sweaty and flushed—and gorgeous—face of Steve Harrington. 

"Coach is pissed," he states, pushing damp hair out of his face. Eddie has yet to make him wear his bandana on the court, but he will make it happen. At some point. 

"Why?" He blinks his eyes innocently. "I'm just doing my job."

Steve puts his hands on his hips and raises an eyebrow.

"Blood? Broken bone?" he reminds him. 

Eddie crosses his arms defiantly.

"People don't want boring sports commentary, Steve. They want blood and circuses!"

"Uh-uh. I know for a fact this is not how it goes." Steve gives him an unimpressed look. "Correct it before his family starts freaking out."

"Fine," Eddie huffs. "Did you come here just to piss on my fun?"

Steve shakes his head, dropping his arms to come closer and lean on Eddie's chair.

"I came for a good luck kiss. Daddy really wants that bus."

Eddie snorts and uncrosses his arms. 

"Okay, Daddy, then come here," he pulls him in for a quick peck, and then two more, lips catching hungrily but knowing they don't have time for more. They pull away and smile at each other. 

"Get that goal for the team!" Eddie pushes him away and slaps his butt for extra luck.

"Still the wrong sport, baby," Steve laughs before leaving the commentator's booth.

beloveds: @blasvemous @wheneverfeasible @phantomcat94

[demonic0angel]

Spectra discovers the misery factory that is Gotham. Everybody has a bad time.

(Will just be focusing on Anger Management for this ask, but this is a VERY fun ask lmao, I love angst/comfort)

Red Hood tried not to let the tears fall as he firmly kept his finger on the trigger.

“I’m not scared of you,” he gritted out.

Spectra laughed. “Maybe not. But I know someone you’re scared of. You’re scared of Wolf, aren’t you? You’re scared that she won’t like what she sees when she finds the true you. Your worries certainly have merit. After all, who can expect someone like her, brilliant, beautiful, powerful, to like someone like you? Someone who can never understand her, someone who is as disgusting and damaged and weak as you.”

“I-I—!!” His hands trembled and the gun nearly slipped.

Spectra smirked and prowled closer. “You’re nothing compared to her. My apprentice was raised into excellence by me. She’ll know. She’ll know that someone like you is beneath her. Someone who doesn’t even deserve to touch her feet. After all, who would like someone like you, who died in such a pathetic way?”

Red Hood inhaled, trying to clear the spots in his vision as the tears persisted. “I’m not pathetic! I got to where I am with my own strength and will! I crawled out of my own grave! I am—!”

“You’re nothing,” Spectra hissed, her eyes flashing. “You’re nothing but a spineless, cold-blooded murderer who begs his daddy for love. No one mourned you. No one cared for you. You were replaced like nothing because you are nothing. The Lazarus pits have healed you, wiped away your outer scars, but the inner ugliness still remain, don’t they? No one will love you. Not your siblings, not your father, not Wolf. You are an unloveable, forgettable trash who should’ve died on the streets.”

A voice interrupted her, but Red Hood was completely and utterly hyperventilating already.

“Spectra. Enough.”

Red Hood froze in his place, shivering like an abandoned dog as Wolf strode across the roof towards them. He bit down on his lower lip, stifling a whimper as the gun dropped from his hands. He shouldn’t have done that. He should’ve done everyone a favor and—

Wolf shot a strange bullet at Spectra, who disappeared with a hateful scream. Red Hood could not see through his tears, fogging the inside of his helmet and as everything began to close around him, like the coffin that used to hold him in his death, he tore it all off like he had done before at the age of 15, weak and helpless and mindless. He whimpered and whined and clawed at the mask on his eyes, wanting it off, off, off—

Hands gripped his wrists and Jason reared back with a sob. Everything felt wrong, like his skin was keeping him caged and the air of Gotham City was too cold and he felt boiling hot like shame and embarrassment and Wolf was looking at him through her helmet. She let go of one wrist and for a moment, Jason wondered if she had truly thought that he was disgusting, when she reached for his face and gingerly held his cheek in one gloved hand.

The gentle touch immediately pulled him away from his thoughts.

His breath hitched and he blinked away hot tears, closing his eyes as he just focused on her touch. She let go of the other hand and then pulled him into a hug, cradling him and for a moment, Jason wished he was 15 again, undamaged, innocent, and clean, untouched by death and murder.

But for now, he just held tightly onto Wolf and sobbed as she murmured sweet nothings into his ears only.

“Shhh… it’s okay. Nothing she said was true. I promise you, I’ll stay by your side no matter what. Shhh, it’s alright, you’ll be okay. It’ll all be okay…”

[anon-sect]

I'd love to be transformed by my father-in-law.

"You don't deserve to have my son, but you'll do just nicely as an object".

Sounds so hot.

Picture source: @superfinemen

George was initially shocked when his son, Alvin, came out to him. He didn't want to accept it at first, but he wanted to support his son eventually. He did support his choice when he saw how happy Alvin was. It was some time later that it was his son's choice in partners that displeased him. Every last guy that his son introduced to him, he didn't find worthy of his son.

Alvin finally did settle on one guy that he liked a lot. Peter was the guy that Alvin liked the most. Tired of his father having fault in every last one, he decided to stick with the one he loved best, despite his father's disapproval.

One weekend, Alvin had invited Peter to the family lake house for some fun time. George didn't like the prospect of seeing Peter for the entire weekend, but he played it off like he was okay with it for the sake of his son.

The second morning at the lake house, George saw Peter downstairs looking out the patio door. Alvin was still asleep. "You are up early." He spoke trying to be cordial when he really didn't want to.

"Really, Sir? Alvin is asleep now. You don't have to fake liking me when he isn't around." Peter paused with a serious look on his face. "My man told me how you haven't approved a single guy he liked. It's a darn shame you aren't as supportive as you should be." Peter added.

George didn't like the way he spoke back to him, even though it was partially true. He just wanted the best for his son, and he thought Peter wasn't it. "You are right about one thing. I haven't been as supportive as I should be. But I promise the next guy he sees, I will support his choice." He spoke as he pulled out his cellphone and opened up the TF Ray Pro app. He put in the setting for a pair of slides, size 12.

"Next guy!? I am not leaving Alvin anytime soon, Sir. You will just have to deal with me being with him." Peter countered back, rather upset at George's words.

"I am afraid my son won't even know what happened to you. He will grieve your disappearance but will move on soon enough." George spoke as he added an additional setting of long-term durability. He didn't want his feet to destroy his new slides completely. He wanted many years of use out of his son's former lover.

Peter wanted to question what George meant but didn't get the chance. There was a flash from his phone, and he instantly felt different. He tried to scream but had no ability to speak anything. It was just only his mental thoughts. He tried to move but found himself completely immobile. He didn't know what happened to him until he felt tremendous pressure crushing him. The pain was intense as something was stepping on him. He realized what it was when he felt toes scratching at his face. He was footwear.

George loved the way his new slides supported his feet. They were quite comfortable. In fact, they were more comfortable than normal slides. Each step felt good under his feet. He definitely would be keeping this pair for a long time, he thought to himself as he walked around the house, not giving a single care to what his feet was doing to Peter. He was nothing but his footwear now and should get used to his new menial existence under his feet. "You don't deserve my son. But you are very nice slides. I am definitely going to wear you so much on my feet." He spoke and laughed at the same time.

Alvin woke up later that morning and noticed Peter wasn't there. He looked around the house and couldn't find him anywhere. He went to see his dad in the dock. "Hey dad, have you seen Peter? I can't find him anywhere." He asked.

"No, son. The last time I saw him was when you two went to bed last night." George paused. "I don't know where he could be." He added, knowing full well his slides could hear this conversation, but helpless to do anything about it.

Alvin looked at his phone and saw a missed text from Peter. It read: "I am breaking up with you. I called for an Uber and left. I already have your number blocked so you can't reach me, good bye." He called the number, but it went straight to voice-mail. He was upset at seeing what the text said was true. "I don't know why he would do this to me, dad. I really liked him a lot." Alvin spoke, feeling down and depressed.

George hugged his son. "I know it hurts, but this is only temporary. You will find love again. The next guy you date, I promise to be more supportive of your choice. I will be a better father. The next one will be more worthy of your time." He spoke consoling his son over his grief.

"Thanks, dad. I will appreciate that. I think going out on the lake will help me get over the breakup." He spoke as he noticed his dad was prepping the boat. "Good, son. Let's go then." George spoke, making sure to scratch his toes on his new slides.

Peter was mentally screaming for help and cursing out George at the same time. He was helpless as he saw Alvin thought he broke up with him. There was no way to let his lover know what really happened to him. He could only watch in horror as his fate was to be under George's feet forever. His only view was of the soles of his feet. His only companion would be his owner's feet and the odor of ownership over him. He didn't look forward to smelling like foul foot odor.

ONE YEAR LATER.....

George received an invitation to Alvin and Greg's wedding. He was actually proud of the new guy he chose. Greg was definitely worthy of his son. He relaxed in his chair wearing his favorite slides he got a year ago. He honestly forgot the guy's name. But that didn't matter anyway. He had decided to keep him as his footwear.

[amorfista]

[WIP] "Shenanigans at the beach"

The Dad Batch (and Omega) deserve a day of blissful relaxation, I don't think there's anyone out there who wouldn't agree!

While Tech is taking the best nap of his life [Part 1], Omega and Wrecker joined efforts to make the coolest sand-Tipoca city there is out there!

But hold up just a second...

-"Hey Wrecker, look!"

"...now wouldn't it be a shame if someone was feeling extra mischievous today?" Omega thought to herself. Turning to her left, lips pressed in a smile, she discovered Wrecker mimicking her expression. Apparently, he had just read her mind >:).

Tech had felt such peace, such safety that he had fallen into a deep slumber, further fueled by his usual lack of sleep.

Tough seldom wrong, today he was.

Because at this moment Tech was, in fact, in grave danger.

...TO BE CONTINUED!!

[Part 3] [Part 4]

(Acknowledging the lil' banner for a fraction of a second, it's just something I'm testing out and would like some feedback if you'd be so kind to give it :)) I'll probably make it just a tad bit more refined and (possibly) include the members of the Batch appearing on the post? but I might just randomize it for fun too. Thank you for taking the time to read this!!)

OKAY SOO. I decided to post these two drawings that I completed a few days ago because:

- once again i deadass couldn't wait anymore💀

- I have decided to make as many "beach episode" themed drawings as I can during the summer (and fall if we get there cuz why not) so i'll just post them as I'm done with each of 'em! I have SO many ideas for it and I want it to be a big project and not some sketches as I had initially planned. I want to make it WHOLESOME and HEART MELTING!! Whenever I get burnt out or need some fresh air I'll draw other things, probably still within the Star Wars theme because the brainrot is real🤓, but just letting you know in advance because AAAH!! this is a big thing for me and I want to share it with you guys because love is all you've shown me and I want to reciprocate 💕 🥺 

- and last but DEF NITELY not least I want to celebrate thAT I REACHED 300+ FOLLOWERS TODAY!! AND ALSO 1000+ NOTES ON MY OMEGA DRAWING??!! IN LIKE NO TIME TOO!!? WHAT THE FRICK. THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE!!

Never before had my art had such an impact in a community. I am so grateful for all of your comments and interactions with my drawings, it's a ridiculous boost in inspiration and confidence :) It makes me want to push my limits every time!! So once again THANK YOU!!☺️ 💕 

Here's my taglist, just let me know if you wish to join!! ♥

@dukeoftheblackstar @justalittletomato @darthmaulshispanichousewife @botherbother-blog @aftergloom @badolmen @ihaventpickedausername @ohboi @stardustbee @nik-barinova @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @gen-has-green-vibes @ejfivercommander @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @eyecandyeoz @noesqape @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @staycalmandhugaclone @callmesunny04 @freesia-writes

[spiceofvy]

SKZ x Reader — Reader never had an Orgasm

notes: reader is not a virgin, former partners are mentioned

cw: gender neutral reader, mention of accidental edging and possessiveness (chan), mention of corruption kink (minho), mention of guided masturbation (hyunjin), except for minho everyone is very soft and sweet

Chan: This man is so torn on this topic. On one hand, he feels very protective of you and wants to make you feel safe. On the other hand, he has a deeply possessive feeling that he is really happy that he is going to give you your first orgasm. To make you feel better than even yourself could make you feel. He talks you through it all. What to expect, what he will do. Is probably gonna make a game plan in his head beforehand. Will take it slow and checks in on you a lot. I can definitely see him accidentally edging you by stopping shortly before you cum to check in on you. But deep on the inside this possessive need to own you never lets him go.

Minho: This man has a corruption kink. Knowing that this is gonna be your first orgasm makes him go feral. He will make sure that your first orgasm is gonna make your eyes roll back. No starting slow. He is gonna pull out all his tricks. Only stops when you tell him that it's too much, but he only gives you a short break before starting again. He makes sure that you will never forget this and that nobody could ever come close to that feeling. You're his and he enjoys ruining you for anyone else.

Changbin: Poor baby definitely feels the pressure of being better than your partners before. He wants to do it all right and make you happy because he thinks that you deserve the best in the world. He will probably make it romantic like it's your first time having sex and not just your first orgasm. And even though he is usually pretty confident in his skills in the bedroom, he will be a bit nervous. Will take his sweet gentle time. Lots of sweet talk. Aftercare consists of holding you gently and softly asking you what you liked and what you didn't like

Hyunjin: My man is aware that self-love is the most important kind of love and he wants to be sure that you don't have to rely on a partner to experience pleasure. So instead of making you cum himself he suggests talking you through your masturbation. He knows that you like his voice and he is confident that can lead you to your orgasm with no problems. But if you don't like that Idea, he's gonna do it himself. Really slow and soft. Teasing you to your orgasm with flowery dirty talk and lots of "Relax baby", "just enjoy it", "it's okay. Let go."

Jisung: He is so excited to help you. He will probably ask you a ton of questions about your former experiences and in return tells you about all his favorite techniques. Maybe it's a bit overwhelming but he also sparks excitement in you. When it comes to the actual thing he may suddenly struggle with some performance anxiety, it's your turn then to get him hyped, but with just a few words about how much you want this he is happy to go again. Expect a lot of giggling, sudden position changes, and terrible dirty talk, a lot of fun with a very happy end.

Felix: He is also very excited to get the chance to give you your first orgasm. Sees it as a great way to bond deeper as a couple. He‘s gonna be very soft. Lots of kisses all over your body. Always looking at your face to catch all reactions, with a soft smile on his lips. Lots of „Do you like it if I do this?“, „Tell me when it gets too much yeah?“, „Do you want more?“. He enjoys watching you so much that he probably cums from just watching you, and he feels zero guilt about it. Afterwards, he wants to talk about it all with a soft smile and some sweets to snack on, asking the most important question „Do you want to do it again soon?“

Seungmin: He almost pities you? Looking at you a bit confused. He doesn‘t mean to shame you, but it definitely comes off like he does. Asks some low-key invasive questions about your masturbation habits… for research purposes of course. He will definitely poke fun at your former partners' incompetence. When it actually comes to it he's gonna act all confident, but still feels a bit nervous on the inside. He wants to make this good. Really careful and is gonna give a lot of aftercare to make sure you feel good afterwards. He‘s precious.

Jeongin: He is not super experienced, being busy as an Idol and such. He is a bit shy and asks if you don‘t want to experience your first orgasm on your own. He has a bit of performance anxiety and is scared that he won't be good enough to make you cum. If you convince him otherwise, he is gonna plan this out. Talks you through the whole thing so you can feel safe and keep a sense of control even in a situation like this with a lot of new sensations for you to experience. There's gonna be a ton of talking during it and so much reassurance. Absolute sweetie.

[k1ss0fjudas]

untitled mean lucifer fic

(first time posting something like this anywhere but regardless of that, enjoy. all lowercase and not beta-read. just slightly edited wordvomit pretty much. written and uploaded on mobile.)

tags/cw: nsfw, lucifer being mean, gender neutral reader/mc, dub-con (implies that lucifer wouldn't stop if you asked him to but only bc he knows whats best for u. ur rlly into it i promise), degradation + name-calling, puppy play, creampie, spanking (a little), breeding mention but not too in-detail - thats abt all i can think of.

------------------------------------------------------------------

lucifer fucks you like he hates you.

when he allows you to warm his bed he makes sure you know it is a mercy on his part to even let you touch him, let alone in the haphazard, careless way you do— impatient and needy and pathetic.

an excitable, dumb puppy is the image he always circles back to; especially when you're on your knees and peering up at him with those wet, lost eyes of yours— tongue out and panting like a bitch in heat for a taste of his cock. you're so pitiful.

aw, don't look so sad. there's always a fondness for you nestled in his chest. who can blame him when you're such a tantalizing little thing? you're simply too endearing to ignore. you were made for him; made to be picked up by his own two hands and have him break you into something fun.

he knows you won't disappoint. mammon can talk all he wants with that idiotic mouth of his, you are lucifer's pet, and being lucifer's pet means that you will always entertain him without fail. it's what good pets like you live for. you really think lucifer would settle for anything less?

and what a good little pet you are, making such sweet sounds when he truly starts the process of breaking you in, bending you over the bed— ass up and face down so you can be properly bred and mounted like the dirty little mutt you are.

his hands are tight around your hips in case you decide to run away. you have a tendency to believe that you have any say in how lucifer plays with you. it's nothing a little punishment can't fix.

when light spankings aren't enough to tame you he pulls on your hair and makes it hurt, tormenting you even more with a mean little chuckle when you whine at him for 'being too rough'. if he's feeling especially evil he'll chastise you with a heavy slap to your ass to remind you that a "good little whore takes cock with no complaints." dumb cocksleeves like you always remember your place after a few good and hefty slaps.

and what kind of owner would he be if he didn't cum inside and mark you as his? you know he's reaching his limit when he starts to breathe a little heavier— huffing and puffing through clenched teeth as he presses your face even deeper into the bed. if you bitch and moan he might even try to suffocate you a little just as a reminder that you are his puppyslut to fuck and abuse. not even you can tell him how to use your holes, whether it be to satisfy him or to simply breathe.

you should be thanking him, really. you like to pretend you hate it when he's mean to you like this but he feels the way your fuckhole squeezes around him when he is.

it's okay, he'll treat you the way you deserve.

and what you deserve is to be collared and leashed, fucked and bred, used and abused. all of that is something lucifer can provide so make sure you lay there and take it all when he suddenly pushes balls deep inside you and cums. it's hot and so thick and there's just so much of it that you can barely hold it. you should pray to whatever there is out there that it won't leak onto the bed, unless you want lucifer to click his tongue and scold you, muttering something to himself about how he "should have known that a stupid whore like you would be incapable of doing something as simple as being a cumdump."

what a shame, really. oh well. that only means that you're going to have to be pumped full of cum for the next few hours until you learn to be a proper cumrag. aw, don't look so scared, puppy. you're only going to turn lucifer on even more.

in fact, he's already hard and rearing to go, pressing his tip against your freshly broken-in hole. he'll fuck you even rougher and he'll be so smug watching you struggle beneath him. aw, trying to run away again? that simply won't do.

now be a good little bitch and take it.

[snowstained]

one piece characters after a fight (it was their fault)

includes: fighting, shitty apologies (that get corrected), sanji groveling, gn reader, me being too lazy to proof read

characters: zoro, sanji, crocodile, buggy

zoro

won’t actually apologize at first. he knows when he fucks up, but he refuses to admit it because of his ego. you’ll walk into your room to find your favorite snack, a new clothing item, shoes, etc. on your bed as his “apology”. unfortunately, a gift is not an “i’m sorry” and you don’t care about shattering his ego temporarily.

you walked into your room and sat on the bed was a soft, high quality sweater with a cute design that was basically made for you. it so happened that you and zoro got into a pretty big fight last night. you were training together and zoro took your weight from you, took off a couple rings, and handed it back, “you’re way too weak for that much, taking more than you can handle is just gonna result in failure”. ohhhh he had done it. you immediately got offended and blew up at him, going at it for a solid half hour until you just gave up. you marched over to zoro, shoved the sweater into his hands, and demanded an apology. “say sorry, i won’t forgive you, much less accept the gift, until you say you’re sorry” you said, crossing your arms. “i didn’t do nothin’ wrong” he mumbled in response. you shook your head and walked away, deciding he had earned himself the silent treatment. “wait! wait, wait, okay hold on,” he said, and you paused. “okay, well, that was shitty of me and…” he huffed a little, “i’m sorry for calling you weak, i just wanted to look out for you, that was really rude of me. i’m sorry.” turning back around, you smiled, knowing you had finally won and beat the ego barrier. “apology accepted” you took the sweater back and gave him a kiss, and he looked so, so much less cocky now.

sanji

you and sanji don’t fight often, and when you do he is groveling at your feet BEGGING for forgiveness. he’ll cry and moan, offering gifts and services as a peace offering. it’s always a little fun to mess with when he really fucks up though. it also really does not take long for him to apologize, he hates making you upset.

while out shopping for groceries with sanji to restock, you decided to go to the fruit stand right outside the deli sanji stopped at. there were some new fruits you had never tried in the mix, and you were sampling some of them. dragonfruit, rose apples, rambutans, they were so good! while sampling a lychee and thinking of a dessert you could make with it, you overheard your boyfriend talking to someone. you turned around to see him hitting on someone entering the deli on his way out, heart eyes and all. “i’m sorry, could you hold my order for a few minutes?” you asked, glaring in sanji’s direction, “i need to take care of something, i’ll be back in an hour or less” you stomped over to sanji, the fruit stand owner having a ‘yeah he’s fucked’ look on their face. you grabbed your boyfriend by the shoulders and spun him around, “sanji, my dearest. what the actual fuck is wrong with you?! flirting with someone else, especially when i’m only 20 feet away from you? have you no shame? no class? the audacity is amazing me.” sanji managed to stutter out a few “uh, i uh, uhm”s but failed. you dragged him back to the ship, threw him in the kitchen, and went back to grab your fruit and everything else on your shopping list alone. sanji was not getting let off easy today. when you came back, sanji was sitting in a corner of the kitchen crying. seeing you, he immediately ran to you, kneeling at your feet. “i’m sorry! that was mean, and stupid, and cruel, and gross, and dumb, and pervy, i’m sorry! i don’t deserve to be your boyfriend, i’m a no good dirty cook! please forgive me” he begged. you could tell he was truly sorry, but this was a little funny, and you were still mad. “no, not forgiven. your actions speak louder than your words, sanji. why should i forgive you?” you asked. sanji just sobbed more, “i’m so sorry! i love you so much, nobody is better than you! you’re the most stunning, most beautiful, most sexy, more gorgeous, most cute person in the world! i’ll do and get you anything you want, anything!” nah, you liked this too much. “hmm… keep begging, this is fun.” you said. that went on for a longgg time before you forgave him… and gave zoro some bullying material.

crocodile

he’s aware of when he does something wrong and makes it a quick apology with a LAVISH gift. on the few times he really made you angry/upset, he took you on a vacation or made an insane purchase for you.

crocodile had been gone for months, eleven to be exact. normally you’d still have regular communication via transponder snail, but he hadn’t called you or picked up your calls in almost two months. you grew so sad and lonely, having only house staff to talk to. you hadn’t gone out at all either, just staying at home passing time by reading or doing art. it had been officially eleven months and sixteen days since he had been gone when you were having tea with one of the guards and discussing your latest read. you both had started reading books at the same time like a mini book club to keep you occupied. then, your husband barged into the room. “sweetheart, i’m so happy to see you. missed you, c’mere and give me a hug” he said. you just froze up and the tears came without warning. all you could do was break down in your seat, teacup dropping from your hand onto the saucer, spilling onto the table. the guard immediately began to clean up the spill while crocodile just stared at you, shocked and just confused. “hey, hey, i’m sorry. i thought i’d be home sooner, or have time to visit. baby, please, i-“ he stopped, placing a hand on your shoulder and rubbing circles as you sobbed. you were sad, angry, and happy all at the same time. you were upset, but grateful to see him. “i thought- i thought you died! you didn’t call or- or write to me and…” you continued to break down. crocodile picked you up, making sure to pause to know if you’d be upset or not if he did, and carried you to your shared bedroom. the whole time he gave apologies and comfort to you. after sitting you down and letting you cry into his chest for a bit, he had you stay seated and re dressed you into your favorite comfy clothes. he laid down beside you, and you laid on his chest sniffling while he pet your hair. after a bit of silence, he spoke again “i’m sorry, my sweet angel. i didn’t mean to scare you so bad, i got really busy, i should’ve made better time for you. i should’ve made you more of a priority like i normally do. do you forgive me?” he asked. you nodded your head as a yes, and he kissed it. the rest of the day you spent with him, cuddling and reading together. the next day, you woke up to one of the most thoughtful gifts he’s ever given. “i know you have the bananawani, but they’re not really great for cuddling or playing as adults. i thought you could use a companion for the times i can’t take you with, and for the times i can. here, they’re yours, name them” he said to you as you woke up to two sweet little kittens purring in your lap. “and i packed a bag for you and the kittens, we’re going on a vacation. i think we needed a second vacation home.”

buggy

he’s so weird with apologies. he’ll refuse to say sorry and pout like a child, but the second you take away boyfriend privileges he’s crying.

you and buggy fought semi often, but it was never bad. mostly you scolding him or saying i told you so. this was one of those rare moments where buggy actually made you angry instead of mildly irritated. buggy is a clown, a silly guy! a silly guy who likes pranks, and takes them too far sometimes. buggy thought it would be hilarious to use his chop chop fruit powers to trick you into thinking he actually got seriously injured in a fight. he came on deck limping, two crewman acting as crutches. one of his legs past the knee was missing, and it was dripping with blood. “holy shit! buggy! what happened?!” you screamed, rushing over to help. he acted like he was out of it and in pain, only mumbling replies that didn’t even make sense. you got him laid down, made a tourniquet out of his bandana, and began to wipe up the blood with a cloth you snagged. and slowly, you realized he was fucking with you. you dropped the rag and stood up, “okay, no, what the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked before storming away. “it was just a joke! it was funny!” he yelled. you avoided him for the rest of the day, and he knew he had really done it this time, but like hell he was admitting it. when it was time for bed, you were cozied up and watching a storm through your window. buggy entered the room, sitting down beside you and getting ready to cuddle up next to you, until you stopped him. “absolutely not, get out. you can figure out somewhere else to sleep tonight.” you said. buggy gave you a ‘huh?’ look. “haha, you’re funny. do you want me to put on some music? i got a new-“ you cut him off, “i’m serious, buggy. out, now.” his cheery expression dropped into an agitated one. “it was just a prank, calm down! it’s not my fault that you can’t take a joke!” he exclaimed. “i said out” you said, pointing to the door. he stopped, looking defeated. he began to walk over to the door, until he turned around all teary eyed and sad. “i’m sorry! please forgive me, really, i’m really sorry! i’ll never do it again, i swear!” he begged. after a little more, you gave in and fell asleep listening to the storm in his arms. and his snoring.

[sarahsmi13s]

Rocks Are Allowed to Crack, Stars Are Allowed to Dim

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x fem!pilot!reader

characters: jake seresin, y/n nivans, the daggers, pete mitchell, penny benjamin, diego and benny harding (oc father and son)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, language, ptsd, description of accident, panic attack, injuries, descriptions of scars, flashbacks, fear of death, familial death (mentioned), crying, bottling up feelings, please please let me know if i missed any

word count: ~8.0k

a/n: this has been sitting in my docs and on my wheel for at least a year (please forgive the awkward moments). so i figured i'd take a sliver of the wheel and make him a little lighter! i've also been in a funk lately, so i thought getting something out there might help!

quick summary: everyone deserves someone to comfort them in their time of need, even the ones that always lend their shoulder

Ah, yes, dogfight football. Maverick’s way of creating a team. You play offense and defense at the same time. Tackling each other into the sand, sometimes into the water. It may be chaotic, but it’s fun and a great team building exercise.

Which is why you hated that you were running a little behind.

You sighed as you got out of your car and walked over to where Penny was sitting at the table. 

You placed your aviators on your head, “I’m not late am I?” Penny chuckled and shook her head, “Just in time. Want a beer before you go?” You shook your head, “Nah, I’m okay right now. Care to watch my stuff?” 

The brunette gestured to the items in front of her, chuckling, “I’m watchin’ everyone else's. I don’t see why not.” You chuckled and sat your wallet, phone, and keys down, as well as your sunglasses. You slipped off your shorts, folding them and laying them down.

“Nivans!” 

You turned at the call of your last name, brows raised in curiosity. 

 It was Maverick. 

“Hurry up and get down here!”

You turned to Penny, “This is gonna be fun.” You both laughed before you jogged across the sand to meet everyone by the water. 

“Sorry I’m late, Mav.” 

Maverick shook his head, “You’re not late, Rockstar. Can’t be late for fun.” 

“Not gonna take your t-shirt off?” Phoenix asked when you stood beside her. You shook your head, “Nah, I’m good.” 

Hangman sighed, “That’s a shame.” 

You chuckled at him and bent down to throw a handful of sand at him. 

“Watch it, Rockstar,” Hangman said, his voice light as he glared at you playfully.

“Or what, Hangman?” You challenged, eyes narrowed but a smile pulled at your lips.

Now, you and Hangman joked like this all the time. You considered each other best friends, which confused everyone else on base. 

Jake Seresin was an asshole. He was cocky and arrogant. You, Y/N Nivans, were not an asshole. Quite the opposite, actually. 

You were humble while still knowing your worth, but also showing anybody up if they proposed a challenge, and not being sour when you lost. 

Jake went out looking for competition, you let it come to you. 

You were also probably the sweetest thing to walk the planet. Most certainly the sweetest to walk the airstrip. 

You were nice to everyone, always giving someone the benefit of the doubt until they truly proved they were an asshole. 

You also took care of your team, they were your family. You always had the door open if someone needed to talk. Your arms were wide open when they showed up in the middle of the night because they had a nightmare and couldn’t shake it. You were their rock.

So, when you walked into the Hard Deck that first day of the Uranium Mission and hugged Hangman, everyone was confused — except Coyote who knew you from a year prior. But they didn’t verbally question you, choosing instead to ponder in private.

Hangman sighed, “Come on, Rocky. You're giving your enemy the advantage.” He tugged at your shirt and pulled you into his arms. 

You laughed and pushed him away by his chest, “You’re gonna have to catch me first.” Hangman cocked his head to the side, “Oooh, that’s how it is?” You nodded, a smirk playing on your lips, “That’s how it is.” 

You panted as you used your shirt to wipe the sweat from your face. 

When you let go of your shirt you raised your arms, calling for the ball. They threw it to you and you took off for your endzone. 

You felt the sand shift and you knew Hangman was behind you. You had to get rid of the ball, so you called out to your teammate, “Phoenix!” She ran ahead of you and you threw her the ball.

As soon as the ball was out of your hand, Hangman tackled you to the ground. 

You laughed as you laid on your stomach, arms out in front of you. 

“What was that about ‘catching you’?” Jake grunted from above you.

You didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking. “Haha, very funny Hangman. Now get off, you’re heavy.” 

“First, ouch. Second, nah, you’re comfy.” You laughed and shook your head, attempting to push off the ground and basically buck him off. 

But, Hangman wouldn’t let you, laughing as he moved and made you fall back down.

In this new position, Hangman was putting pressure on a certain part of your back and panic shot through you. 

“Seriously, dude, get up,” you tried to say with a laugh, not wanting to sound rude or like you were mad at him. He just smiled and rested his chin on his hands. 

You closed your eyes and tried to control your breathing, but the waves hitting you pushed you over the edge. 

“Jake, get the fuck off me.” You didn’t mean to sound harsh but you were panicking.

Jake was surprised by your tone, along with the use of his first name. He immediately got up and held out a hand for you to take but you just got up and ran to the table. 

“Rockstar, where you going?” Maverick asked. You called out while still running, “I need a break for a minute.” 

You got to the table, “Is it unlocked?” Penny nodded, “Yeah, why?” “Bathroom break.” Penny just nodded again and watched you take your sunglasses with you as you jogged inside.

Rooster ran over and hit Jake’s arm, “What did you do, Hangman?” Jake shook his head, “I’m not sure.” He put his hands on his hips and watched you disappear into the bar. 

He felt bad, he wanted to chase after you and apologize but he didn’t know what he did. 

“Well, you seemed to piss her off,” Phoenix said, shoving the ball into his chest. 

Maverick looked at Penny but she just shrugged, meaning you didn’t say much.

You ran into the bathroom, throwing yourself into a stall.  

You leaned over the toilet and waited to throw up. Tears had started running down your face the minute you stepped in the bar. You coughed and sobbed lightly as you tried to control your breathing. 

After a few minutes of that, the nausea subsided and you slowly stood to go to the sink. 

You turned the cold water on and splashed your face. 

“Shit…” 

You closed your eyes as the tight feeling in your chest loosened. You let out a shaky breath and looked in the mirror, cringing at the puffiness around your eyes. You grabbed your sunglasses and slipped them on before leaving the bathroom.

When you stepped outside you saw Maverick and Penny talking, and when you sat down they stopped talking and looked at you concerned. 

“You alright? Gave Hangman quite the scare for a second,” Mav asked, squaring his shoulders to you. You nodded, resting your forearms on the table. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You rubbed your forehead, “Hey Pen-” 

Before you could finish your sentence, a beer was sat in front of you, causing you to giggle, “Read my mind.”

As he continued to play, Jake still couldn’t get over the fact that you called him ‘Jake’ during a day out. 

It wasn’t that you never did, but it was rare that you called anyone by their first name. 

But it wasn’t just that, it was the way you said that really made him worry. He had never heard your voice sound like that before.

He looked at you from his spot on the beach, noticing you didn’t come back to join in the fun. 

Hangman walked up to Phoenix, worried that he had really upset you and wanted help from the girl you were closest to. “You don’t really think I pissed her off, do you?” 

She sighed, “I don’t know, Hangman. Even if you did, I doubt she could stay mad at you for long. She can't be mad at anyone for very long.”

Jake nodded and watched you stand up from your spot at the table.

You finished your beer and stood up, “I’m gonna head out.” 

Maverick frowned, “You sure you’re okay, Y/N?” 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I just really need to shower. I’ve got sand in places sand shouldn’t be,” you said with a light laugh. 

“Okay, drive safe. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Yes, sir.” You collected your stuff and headed to your car.

Jake noticed you leaving and tilted his head, “Hey…” He patted Coyote on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back.” 

He jogged up to the table to ask Maverick if he knew anything.

“Is she okay?” Hangman asked as soon as he came to a stop. Maverick shrugged, not looking up at the pilot, “She seemed okay. Said she needed to shower.” 

Jake let out a breath, “So she isn’t mad at me?” 

“I didn’t say that. But as far as I can tell, she’s just tired.” 

Jake licked the sweat off his upper lip, putting his hands on his hips as he looked down. 

“Hangman, honey, just go talk to her. If she’s upset with you, she’ll be honest about it,” Penny encouraged, giving Jake a small smile. He nodded and jogged to go find you before you left. 

You were standing by your car, the door opened as you moved to get in when he approached. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Jake called as he walked over to you. You smiled, “Hey, Hangman.” 

Jake swallowed, “Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I was just messing around. I did-” 

You held your hand up, cutting him off, “Jake, I’m not mad at you. I know you were just playing. But your tackle jump started my bladder and I wasn’t kidding when I said you were heavy.” You giggled a bit to show him you were teasing.

Hangman visibly relaxed at the sound, “Okay, good. I know I like to get under everyone’s skin. Sometimes I don’t know when to knock it off. I–” 

You held up your hand, cutting him off. “Jake, I can handle your teasing. Yeah, you can get a little mean. But I know it’s all a big show. Come here,” you opened your arms and made grabby hands at Jake. 

He just shook his head and chuckled, pulling you in by your outstretched hands and letting them find their place around his built torso. 

He rubbed his hand on your back, nearly missing the slight tensing right beneath your shoulder blades before they relaxed. His brow furrowed but he didn’t mention it, thinking that maybe it was you tightening your arms around him. 

He kissed the top of your head before you pulled away. 

“Geez, Jake, you’re sweaty.” 

“You’re not too dry yourself, Rockstar.” You laughed and playfully shoved him away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” You smiled and slid into your car, “I’ll kick your ass tomorrow Hangman.” 

He scoffed leaning on the roof of your car and the open door. “Since when did you get so cocky?” 

You smirked and placed your glasses on your head, forgetting that your eyes could still be red and puffy from earlier. “It’s not cocky if it’s the truth.” 

Jake shook his head and looked back to the shore. “Uh-huh. We’ll see.” He leaned back and patted the top of your car. “Drive safe.” You nodded, and he closed your door. 

He watched you start it up before driving away.

Jake shook his head and made his way back to the group.

Speaking of the group, they had all noticed the change in Jake when you showed up at the Hard Deck a few months ago. 

While he was still his cocky self, having no shame in bragging and trash talking, he seemed to tone it down when you were around.

They also noticed how he always made sure to find you in the crowd, keeping an eye on you. Coyote joked that you had Hangman wrapped around your finger, that he would be at your side with a simple look. 

Jake was painfully aware of the effect you had on him. 

When he met you a year ago, he was starstruck by your dazzling smile. 

So, naturally, in true Hangman fashion, he flirted with you. 

With a toothpick between his perfect white teeth and his bright green eyes shining under the yellow lights of the bar, he walked up to you. 

“I sure hope no one left you alone.” 

When you turned, eyeing him up and down to take in the uniform, beer bottle popping as it left your mouth, his breath was ripped from his lungs. 

“Well, you’re here now. I’m not alone.” 

Seeing your smile up close caused Hangman to blush, and leaving him thankful that his tan could somewhat hide it. 

“Well, ain’t I special.” 

You nodded, giggling while looking down at the bar, “That you are. But, before this can go any further, I’m gonna be honest, I’m more dedicated to my work than anything else at the moment. And I have to be up by 5, so I’d hate to lead you on.” 

Jake shook his head, but you continued, gesturing around the bar, “I’m sure there are plenty of girls here that would love to get attention from you and give you attention.” 

Jake smiled –not smirked, smiled– while leaning on the bar, “Well, the only one I want attention from is you. Plus, I can’t stay out too late either. Gotta be at work early too, so I guess we’re both clocking in early.” 

None of the feelings that day had been one sided. You also had been starstruck by Hangman. 

He was broad shoulder, tall, tan, and had a voice that could make a girl swoon in a second. But you knew he was a pilot, his uniform gave it away, and you knew how they acted. Except, you liked Jake’s company and decided to talk all night with him. 

Ironically, what you both did for work never came up.

So, imagine the look on Jake’s face when he saw you the next day in your flight suit. 

“You didn’t tell me you were a pilot.” 

You smirked, “You didn’t ask.” 

He shook his head, biting his lower lip to hide his smile but failed. 

You nodded to him, “What do they call you?” 

“Hangman. What about you?” You smiled, “Rockstar.” 

You were able to peg why he earned his callsign very early on but he couldn’t seem to figure yours out. 

Until he had a close call and couldn’t shake it.

The last day of training had just ended, tomorrow you might not come home, and to say you were nervous was a major understatement. 

As you changed to get ready to go out with the squad, you couldn’t stop shaking. You knew you needed a drink… okay a couple drinks.

While you changed, Hangman was walking around, looking for you. 

When he walked past the locker room, he caught a glimpse of you reaching to pick something up.

He turned to walk in, but stopped when he saw that you only had your pants on. But, before he could stop himself, his eyes trailed up your back; starting from above your waistline on your pants and going up. 

Then he stopped, his eyes widening when he saw the large scar that looked fairly new – maybe a year or so old. It spanned from the middle of your left shoulder blade to nearly below your ribcage and was positioned diagonally across your back. 

Jake quickly looked away, realizing that you must have not wanted anyone to see it if you hadn’t told him. 

His brow furrowed as questions ran through his mind. Was that why you freaked out during dogfight football, the other day? Why you always tense up when you get an unexpected touch there? 

Shit… He thought, feeling like a horrible friend for never noticing and never asking. 

Jake took a deep breath and walked away, choosing to approach the locker room differently and pretend he never saw you. 

He put on a smile and walked back towards the locker room, “Hey, Rockstar! You almost ready?” He stopped just short of the door, leaning his back against the wall. 

Your head jerked up as you pulled your t-shirt down. “Uh, yeah, Hangman. I’ll be ready in a second.” 

You finished getting ready and walked out, jumping slightly when he pushed off the wall. 

“Geez Hang, don’t do that!” You punched his arm. 

“Gosh, I forgot how hard you punch.” He chuckled and rubbed the spot on his arm as you both walked to the parking lot.

You all sat in the Hard Deck, drinking and playing pool.

“Dude, she’s kicking your ass!” Payback laughed as he clapped Hangman on the shoulder. 

You were, in fact, kicking Jake’s ass in pool. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as the blond narrowed his eyes at Payback. 

“Yeah, you feelin’ okay? You’ve been off your game tonight Bagman,” Rooster commented, smirking as he drank his alcohol. 

Instead of clapping back at the jab, Jake just rolled his eyes and lined up his shot. 

That made you frown, Hangman always had a comeback. Always had sarcastic quips to embarrass the other person. But he was silent. 

You made eye contact when he stood, silently asking if he was okay. He just nodded and moved to sink another pool ball. 

You didn’t want to drop it, but you did for the sake of having fun before facing the chance of death tomorrow.

Sometime later, after a few rounds of pool and drinks, you all stood around and just talked.

“Hey, did you guys hear about that one pilot that saved her WSO’s life when they got shot down?” Bob asked, looking around the group. 

You clenched your jaw slightly, but not enough for anyone to notice. 

“Bob, that happens all the time. It’s kinda what we do,” Phoenix said, squeezing his shoulder. 

Rooster stood up and sat his beer down. “No, not the way this pilot did. Bob, I know who you’re talking about. I read the mission file, the only thing that was classified was the pilot and WSO’s names.” 

You swirled the beer in your glass, not looking up from the amber liquid. “Did the pilot survive?” 

When you finished asking, you looked up, trying to ignore the watchful eyes of Hangman as you met Rooster’s eyes. 

The latter nodded, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, she did. But she had a pretty serious injury. I’m not sure if she was ever clear to fly again.” 

You nodded and looked back down at your glass. 

“And the WSO?” Jake asked, eyeing you as you downed the rest of your drink before looking at Rooster and Bob. 

“He survived. But I don’t know if he still flies,” Bob answered. 

“Well, that’s good that they both survived,” you said, your smile returning to your face. 

Rooster shook his head a bit, “Yeah, but that pilot pulled a risky move. Saving some like that…” 

Your smile dropped a bit, “People have their reasons.” You raised your glass, “I’m gonna go get another drink.”

Hangman watched you leave as the conversation changed into something more light hearted. 

Jake took a step to go after you but Coyote caught his arm. “Hey, come on. Play me in a round of pool. Let’s see if you still got your game.” Jake looked from his friend back to you and saw you laughing with Penny and Maverick at the bar. That allowed him to relax a little bit. 

“Oh, I still got my game. Let’s see if you found yours,” he smirked. “There he is!” Coyote laughed and clapped Jake on the back.

As Jake played pool with Coyote, you talked with Penny and Maverick. 

“Are you serious?” 

You nodded, laughing at Penny’s reaction to you telling her how you and Jake met. 

“Pen, why are you surprised? Hangman flirts with every girl,” Maverick said, using his hand to point the direction of the mentioned pilot. You and Penny both nodded your agreement. 

“Sounds familiar,” Penny says, a playful grin on her face making Maverick roll his eyes.

You had become so invested in your conversation with Penny and Mav, that you missed Rooster coming up behind you.

He placed his hand on your back, right on your scar, making you tense and jump in surprise.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya’ Rocky,” he took his hand off and leaned on the bar. 

“You doin’ okay? You seemed a bit…” He glanced back at the group, thinking of the right word. “...tense a minute ago.” 

You bit the inside of your lip, had you really been that obvious? 

Still, you nodded and gave him your best smile. 

But to him, he could see that it didn’t reach your eyes. He may not have been your best friend, but he had seen plenty of your genuine smiles and this one did not make your eyes shine like the others. 

Bradley decided not to press, “Okay…” He turned to Penny, “Penny, could we get another round?” The bartender nodded, “Of course, but you’re reaching your cut off.” 

Penny had set a cut off for drinks for the pilots not wanting them to go into this mission hungover. You chuckled and glanced back at the group, all of them messing around and having fun. “Yes ma’am.” 

You turned to Rooster and then back down to your empty glass. Penny hadn’t refilled it yet, having started a conversation with you as soon as you came over. 

You glanced at your watch, seeing that you had been there for a couple hours. 

Penny sat a tray down, placing the full glasses on top. “There you are, Rooster. Who’s tab?”

Rooster opened his mouth to tell her to put it on his, but you beat him to it, “Put it on mine Pen.” 

“You got the last round, Rockstar,” Rooster argued. You shrugged, “I don’t mind. Plus, I’m closing my tab for tonight.” 

“What? You’re heading out already?” You nodded, sliding Penny your card, “I’m hitting my limit, Roos.” 

Bradley searched your eyes for a moment, looking for any indication that something was wrong.

You were usually the one that made sure everyone was okay to go home and if they needed rides; so leaving early rung bells in Rooster’s head. 

Penny gave you your card and receipt, “Thank you.” “Thanks Pen,” you gave her a smile before turning back to Rooster. 

“Tell ‘em I’m heading out. I know if I do it I won’t be able to leave.” You gave him a one armed hug and turned to Maverick, “See you in the morning, Captain.” 

“See you in the morning, Rockstar.” 

Penny gently squeezed your hand, giving you a small smile as you slid off the bar stool and walked out. 

Rooster, Maverick, and Penny watched you leave the building before turning to each other, concern written all over their faces. 

“Is she okay? She’s been acting a little off ever since dogfight football the other day,” Penny asked the two pilots. 

They both shrugged, Bradley looking up at her. “I was about to ask you the same thing.” 

“I’ve noticed, but I thought it was just because Harvard and Yale had to eject the other day,” Mav admitted. “We were all a little shaken up by that…” 

It was silent for a minute. 

“You know… if one person knows anything, it’d probably be Seresin,” Penny said, pointing over to the pilot, who was very invested in the game he was winning, and basically suggesting that they talk to him. 

Bradley sighed, knowing that Penny was right and if anyone knew you the best, it would be him. He grabbed the tray, thanking Penny and walking over to the group.

They all cheered when he sat the tray down, taking a glass for themselves. 

Jake noticed that there was an extra and he frowned in confusion before he realized it was for you. 

He looked up, eyes searching for you in the crowd, panicking a little when he couldn’t see you, “Where’s Rockstar?” 

Rooster sighed, “She closed her tab and left. Said she reached her limit.” 

Fanboy frowned a little bit, “Why didn’t she just tell us herself?” 

Rooster shrugged, “Said if she did it would take longer for her to leave.” 

“Does she seem different to you guys?” Coyote asked, finally voicing his concern that had buit up over the last few days. 

The group shared a look before making small noises of agreement. 

“I mean, she’s still the same Y/N. Still lighting up a room and being there for us like she always has been… I just… I don’t know.” 

Rooster looked at Jake, “Hangman, you’re like her best friend, do you know anything?” 

Jake shrugged and shook his head, “All I know is she’s nervous for tomorrow and the accident the other day shook her up a bit, but she hasn’t said anything else.” 

He took a large gulp from his beer, hoping to swallow the confession of seeing your scar that he wanted to bring to light.  You trusted Jake and he wasn’t about to ruin that by telling the squad what he saw when he wasn’t even supposed to know it was there.

Meanwhile, you walked the beach, taking in the fresh and salty air. You just needed the quiet time before you went home.

You sighed and pulled out your phone, seeing a text from Hangman and laughing slightly at the message.

Hangboy: Hey, I get that I kicked your ass those last few rounds of pool, but you could have told me you were leaving. I would have walked you out. Text me when you get home. 

Also, there was an extra beer. I assume it was meant for you, but you left so I drank it. Don’t worry though, I can handle it.

You shook your head and opened your phone, but not to text Jake.

You went to your contacts and pressed the caller ID, putting the phone to your ear as it rang. 

“Hey, Rockstar, what's up? It’s been awhile.” 

You smiled, sighing, “Sure has been, Tundra. How are you? How’s the little one?” “I’m good. Ben is great, he wants to know when you’ll be by again to visit.” 

You giggled at the fact the 6 year old wanted to see you. “Soon… hopefully.” “Y/N, I know that voice. Is it happening again?” You shook your head, despite the fact that Tundra couldn’t see you. 

“No, no. Well, sorta, but this is different Diego.” You heard him shift, presumably crossing his arms. “What do you mean?” 

You sighed, remembering that you couldn’t share all that much about the mission, even if he was former Navy. 

“I don’t know how much I can tell you. But I got called back to TopGun, and I could be flying out on a mission tomorrow. A dangerous one.” 

“Y/N, do they know?” 

You shook your head again, this time to fight tears. “No, but I’m scared that mid air, I’m gonna freeze. I don’t wanna freeze, Diego. I haven’t frozen since our incident. But I don’t know what’s been wrong these past couple of weeks. I can’t seem to shake off this dread… this-this fear. I do-don’t-” 

He cut you off, “Have you talked to anyone recently?” 

You were silent and he took that as a no. “Y/N, you have to talk about it if you ever want to move past it.”  “I did though. I had mandated therapy for my entire time in recovery.” “And have you been since you recovered?”

You threw a hand up, frustrated, “I thought I was past it! I hadn’t had an attack in a year, not until we were playing football. I-I thought it was just a one time thing, and then something happened during training and I just-” 

You were cut off by a small, tired voice. 

“Is that Aunt Y/N?” 

“It is. Do you want to talk to her? I think she needs to talk to you.” “Yes, please!” You smiled as you heard the phone go to speaker and then be passed to the little boy. 

“Hey, Aunt Y/N!” 

You smiled, tears finally falling, “Benarino, hey buddy.” “I miss you. When are you coming to visit?” You wiped at your eyes with a shaking hand. “Soon, buddy. Really soon,” you sniffled. 

“Aunt Y/N, why are you crying?” 

You laughed, coughing a little at the end, “I just really miss you Benny. I can’t wait to see you.” 

You looked back at the Hard Deck, seeing your fellow pilots laugh and sing. 

“I’m gonna bring a friend too. If that’s okay with your mom and dad?” “That’s alright with me, Rockstar. I’m sure Lila won’t mind.” 

“Who is it?” 

You brought playfulness into your voice, “You remember the pilot I told you about? The one that thought he could fly better than your Aunt Rocky?” 

The little boy giggled, “Yeah!” “Well, I think it’s about time you brought home the boy that stole your heart.” 

“Diego,” you hissed. “We are just friends.” “Mhmm, sure.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “You should probably get Ben to bed before Lila wakes up.” 

You heard Diego grunt as he picked up his son, “Goodnight Benny Boy.” “G’night Aunt Y/N.” 

“Call me when you make it back.” You nodded, hand sliding into your back pocket, “Yeah, of course. Night Tundra.” “Night Rockstar.” 

The call ended and you slid your phone into your unoccupied back pocket.

You took in a deep breath, trying to relax again. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In, out. 

On an inhale, the scent of smoke filled your nostrils and it made you hold your breath.

Quickly looking around, you spotted a bonfire a couple yards away. Realizing it was harmless, you let out the breath and tried to relax your shoulders.

But, despite knowing it was completely harmless, your body went into a state of panic. Your chest tightened, limbs went numb, pain spread through your back, and tears filled your eyes. 

You held a hand to your chest, the air stopping just before it made it to your lungs, and stumbled to your car as fast as you could, hoping you weren’t seen by your friends inside the bar.

Jake looked at his phone as he left the bar. You hadn’t texted him, and by now you definitely should have been back to your on base bungalow. 

Hangman wasn’t going to panic, he knew you well enough that you would have texted or called him if something bad happened. Of course he felt anxious, who wouldn’t, but he was going to remain calm. 

The reason you hadn’t texted him when you got home was because the moment you fumbled yourself into your place, you booked it for the bathroom. 

Your knees smacked into the tile and you threw up whatever alcohol you had consumed before the strangled sob ripped itself from your throat. You crumbled to the tile as your chest refused to let air in. 

Your skin felt hot and sticky, sweat coating it as you laid on your bathroom floor. It wasn’t helping you, your damp, hot skin sending you back to one of the worst days of your life.

So, in a frenzy, you ripped off your shirt and kicked off your shoes and socks before yanking your pants off, not even loosening your belt. 

You crawled over the tub wall, too dizzy to properly stand, before fumbling with the knob to turn the water on. 

Once you got it turned on, you jostled the faucet switch, a desperate sob escaping as it kept falling down before it finally stuck, turning the shower on and drenching you in water.

And that was how Jake found you.

Jake decided to stop by your place and check on you, that being his only option to get his anxiety to go away. 

When he pulled up to your place and saw your car there, he let out a breath of relief. 

He parked his truck behind your car and ran to your door, his chest lighter than before.

But his chest became heavy again when he made it to your door only to find it unlocked. You rarely left your door unlocked, if ever.

He cautiously pushed it open, looking around to see if anything was out of place. 

Your keys were on the floor, your phone and wallet not too far from them. 

Jake walked further in, making sure to close and lock the door behind him. 

He held his breath as he looked for you. But his search was cut short when he heard the shower running. 

He exhaled and had to take a minute to calm the drumming in his chest. 

He cautiously walked to the bathroom, making sure to knock before walking in. He kept his head down so he didn’t see anything he wasn’t supposed to… again. 

“Hey I was-” 

The door stopped, hitting something on the floor. 

Hangman squinted his eyes in confusion. It was your shoe. He kicked it out of the way and pushed the door open enough for him to just step in and close it. 

He stopped with his hand on the door, realizing that the room didn’t feel like a sauna. There was no fog covering the mirrors and steam wasn’t filling the small space. You always showered hot, and right now the bathroom was freezing. 

Jake finally looked up and saw you curled in the shower, the water cascading from the faucet and hitting your back. It was obvious you had been there for a while because you were shivering. 

Jake sat on the edge of the tub cautiously, not wanting to startle you.

His heart broke at the sound of your quiet crying and the puffy redness of your eyes was a sight Jake never wanted to see again.

The eyes that usually held the brightness of the stars and a kindness that was unmatched, were now red, distant, and constantly filled with tears that fell over and mixed with the water drenching you. 

He hated it.

Jake held his hand under the water and recoiled at how cold it was. 

“Shit,” he cursed as he quickly turned it off. 

When you didn’t react, he knew you truly weren’t in this reality. 

“Y/N,” he spoke gently and touched your arm. He sharply inhaled when he discovered how cold you were. “Y/N, darlin’, we need to dry you off and get you in some warm clothes. You’ll get sick.” 

Jake wasn’t sure if you heard him because you just stared ahead, biting on your nail. He sighed and pulled your hand away from your mouth. 

He moved to pull his hand back but you grabbed it, your freezing cold hand latching onto his warm one. “Please don’t… Jake, please don’t leave.” 

Your voice was quiet and broken, raw with fear. And he was sure that sent a shiver up his back.

Jake quickly shifted to kneel beside the tub, his thumb rubbing back and forth on your hand. “I’d never leave you hangin’.” 

He looked you over, “Can I pick you up?” You nodded, letting his hand slip from your grip and feel it wrap under your legs.

He awkwardly shifted to lean over and pick you up, grunting a little as stood up. He was too pressed about his clothes getting wet, he’s sure he’s got pants somewhere around here.

Jake managed to open the bathroom door and walked to your bedroom. 

He sat you on the bed and quickly grabbed the towel on the back of your desk chair. 

Wrapping it around you, Jake kissed the top of your head. “You’re okay. You’re safe,” he spoke gently against your hair.

He pulled back and watched you bite your lip to keep your tears hidden.

You avoided his eyes, looking at your shaking hands. 

“I’m gonna get you some clothes, okay?” You slowly nodded, lip trembling before you bit down on it again.

Your eyes didn’t follow him as he walked around your room, but your ears were very aware of Jake’s noises; everything from his footsteps to his mumbling. 

In under five minutes, neatly folded clothes were placed beside you and Jake kneeled in front of you, his large hands resting on your biceps gently. 

“Do you want me to stay while you change?” 

It took you a second to register what he had asked, but he was patient and rubbed reassuring circles on your arms with his thumbs. 

You inhaled, the familiar scent of his cologne calming you down a bit. 

You were tempted to say yes, you didn’t want to be alone but you also didn’t want Jake to see you any more vulnerable than he already has. 

You shook your head, unconsciously pulling the towel tighter around you. 

Jake noticed it and nodded, “Okay, I’ll go tidy up your bathroom and throw some blankets in the dryer to fluff them up and get ‘em warm.” He gave you a small smile and stood, leaving the room and the door open just a crack.

You managed to peel off the wet bra and underwear, drying off before changing. 

That simple task was exhausting. It felt like your bones had turned to rocks and your muscles no longer existed. But eventually, you did it.

You haphazardly dried your hair, basically just dry enough to where it wasn’t dripping, and walked into the small living room. 

You sat on the couch, deciding to occupy your hands with your oversized shirt while you waited for Jake. 

Minutes later he was on the couch beside you, wrapping you in the fresh-out-of-the-dryer blanket. 

“Thank you…” Your voice had a rawness to it that made Jake shiver, something was really wrong and he didn’t know how to help.

He nodded and rubbed your upper back, “Of course.”

He sat there for a moment, just listening to your sniffles and weeping exhales, before finally turning to face you. 

“What’s going on? ‘Cause this-” He gestured to you and your current state. “-is way more than just nerves for tomorrow.” 

“I’ll be-” 

“If you say ‘fine’, I swear,” he sighed to control his volume. “Y/N, you are not fine.” 

“Jake…”

The blond pilot took a deep breath, looking at the sliver of couch cushion between you. “I saw it…” 

If you weren’t going to be honest, then he needed to be. Maybe what he saw is connected to what was shaking you to your core all of a sudden.

He finally looked up at you and watched your breathing halt as fear filled your eyes. 

Jake continued, making sure to keep his tone even, “I didn’t mean to. I was just looking for you in the locker room today and I-” He stopped talking when you choked out a small cry. 

He immediately pulled you into his lap, one hand going to the back of your head and the other arm wrapped around your lower back. “I got you… I got you.”

Jake closed his eyes and rocked you a little as his mind went back to the day these roles were reversed.

Jake had sat in the locker room, flight suit half off and tied around his waist. His knee bouncing as his eyes went in and out of focus. 

“Hangman!” You called as you ran down the hall. But he couldn’t hear you with the blood still rushing in his ears. 

“Hangman! Hang- There you are!” You jogged to him and saw that his emerald eyes were blank, not the playful or confident eyes you normally saw. “Hey, Hang- Jake what’s wrong?” You knelt in front of him, putting a hand on his bouncing knee to stop it.

Jake looked at you, the concern swimming in your eyes breaking whatever resolve he had left. 

The tears he tried so hard to hold in finally spilled down his cheeks. 

You instantly cupped his face in your hands, wiping them away, “What’s got you so shaken up? I’ve never seen you like this.” 

He shook his head, pushing your hands away as he sat up and leaned against the locker. “You’re not supposed to.” 

You sighed and leaned back on your heels, “What happened up there?” 

Jake wiped the still flowing tears, shaking his head, “I don’t know. I guess- Fuck I don’t know, Rockstar.” 

You stood, “Talk to me, Jake. Please, I’m your friend and I want to help.” 

Your tone was desperate and worried. This was a new version of Jake that you would have never seen if you hadn’t followed him off the tarmac.

Hangman finally got the guts to grab your hand and squeeze it. He took a deep breath as he tried to collect himself. 

“I almost lost you up there. You’re one of my closest friends, we’ve only known each other for a few months and I feel like we’ve known each other forever. I never let myself be that close to anyone, but you made it so easy.” 

His voice was raw and shaky. He was scared, but you couldn’t blame him. What just happened to you both was really intense and it was scary. But you were both okay.

You squeezed his hand back, giving him a soft but encouraging smile. 

“Can we just- Shit this is gonna sound so weird…” 

You knew where he was going, so you straddled his legs and wrapped him in a hug. “I got you Jake, I got you.”

That was when Jake realized the backstory to your call sign. You were everyone’s rock. You kept everyone sane, even at the expense of yourself.

Which is why you were currently shaking and sobbing in his arms. You never sought out comfort for your problems, a bad habit you picked up in high school. You always put everyone first, and you had it in your head that you couldn’t be vulnerable. 

You pulled away from him, not meeting his eyes, “I’m sorry…” 

“Why the fuck are you apologizing?” 

“Because I-” 

“Because you’re being vulnerable in front of someone?” You nodded, unconsciously playing with your fingers. “Look at me, please.” You did, biting your lip to hold your tears in. 

“You are allowed to be vulnerable. You are allowed to cry. You are allowed to be scared. You shouldn’t have to hide your feelings from your friends. I’m sorry if we ever made you feel like you couldn’t talk to us.” 

You nodded, staying silent, focusing on how Jake had moved his hand from the back of your head to your cheek to rub his thumb back and forth on your cheekbone. 

Your silence broke his heart a little bit, making him think you didn’t trust him. But he knew he had to be patient with you. 

He goes to move his hand away but you hold it there. “I thought I was over it…” 

“Over what, Sweetheart?” 

“The accident…” 

Jake pushed some hair behind your ear, “What accident?” 

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as a few tears rolled down your cheeks. He wiped them away as he spoke softly, “Take your time…” You nodded, swallowing as you tried to catch your bearings. 

“A year before I was stationed with you, I was flying a mission. It was dangerous, but still fairly routine. On my way out, I got hit. It completely destroyed my weapons system. Before I could get back up, I was hit again. This time it took out my engine.” You took another deep breath, looking up at the ceiling. 

“We were dropping altitude fast and my WSO and I had to eject. We landed on a beach, we unbuckled so fast,” you chuckled, remembering the relief you and Diego felt before the shit hit the fan.

Jake smiled a little bit at the sound, but dropped it when you started talking again.

“However the jet had also crashed onto the beach too. The fuel had leaked and caused an explosion. I covered my WSO, and a piece of scrap metal lodged itself into my back.” 

Jake’s eyes widened, more dots connecting in his mind, “You’re the pilot the squad was talking about at the bar…” 

You nodded, wiping your eyes, “Jake, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It’s just… when I was in recovery, if I wanted to fly again, I had to go through therapy. And I haven’t had an attack in a year…” You got choked up again, hot tears rolling down your face, “Hang, I’m so sorry.” 

He shook his head, using both of his hands to wipe your face, “Hey, don’t be sorry. Do I wish you would have told me sooner? Hell yeah, but I understand why you didn’t.” You just nodded and relaxed into his hands.

“What happens when you have an attack?” 

You took a sharp inhale through your nose before sighing it out, “It depends. I sometimes get flashbacks of the beach, everytime I close my eyes I just see fire and it’s fucking terrifying. Other times, when it gets really bad, I can feel pain in my back, but that’s rare.” 

You bit your lip a little as you looked away, and Jake knew, “That happened tonight didn’t it?” You nodded, coughing a little bit, “Yeah, uh, yeah it did.” 

“Was it because we talked about-” 

“No," you said quickly. "W-well, I mean kinda… yeah. But there was a bonfire happening on the beach, and just the two things… my brain went into panic mode. Before you ask, I don’t really know what triggers it. But during dogfight football-” 

Jake’s eyes widened and he dropped his hands, “Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” 

“Exactly, Jake, you had no idea. It’s not your fault. It was just the pressure on my scar made me panic, and I was back on that damned beach. But I’m not mad or upset with you because you had no idea. So don’t beat yourself up, please.” 

Jake nodded, bringing you into a hug again, being mindful of the scar. “Jake, you can touch it. I know I’m safe.” He said nothing and brought a hand to run over the covered scar before tightening his hug. 

“Can you tell me about him? Your WSO?” 

You nodded, “Diego Harding, call sign Tundra. He has a wife and a son.”

“That’s why you-” 

“Yeah, that’s why I covered him. He had a family to go back to.” 

“What about you?” 

You sighed again, using Jake’s shoulders to sit up, “Most of my family served. My dad was killed in action when I was young. My mom died when I was a teenager, leaving Piers to raise me for a little bit. Then Piers goes and sacrifices himself… so I didn’t have anyone to come home too.” 

You shrugged and got off his lap, but snuggled into his side.

He rubbed lazy circles on your bicep. “Well now you do.” You looked up at him confused, “What?” 

“You’ve got me to come home to, and I’ve got you.” He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Don’t get sappy on me, Seresin.” He just chuckled.

It was silent for a moment. 

“Promise me that you’ll do your best to fly back to me,” he asked in a hushed whisper as if he were telling you a secret.

“Only if you do,” you whispered back.

He held out his pinky, “I promise.” You nodded, interlocking your pinky with his, “I promise too.” 

“Can’t break that now, you know,” he chuckled, squeezing your pinky a little. You giggled a little before yawning, “I know, cowboy.”

my little cassettes <33: @els-marvelvsp @kmc1989 @criminallyhamilfan13 @lynnevanss @lovinglyeternal @desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @bradleybeachbabe @sebsxphia @mamachasesmayhem @hangmansgbaby @teacupsandtopgun @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @djs8891 @nobody7102 @bobby-r2d2-floyd @mongoosesthings

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[c-m-stuff]

Wedding Ring

Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

-Description: You and Spencer are married. When you forgot to put your wedding ring back on, Spencer panicked.

-Warnings: Fluffiness, angst

-Word count: 656

-Note: It's finally summer vacation! I hope you are all enjoying the sun and this little story. Have fun! You deserve it! Also, thank you so much for 100 followers! It means a lot to me and to celebrate it, I made a summer party! Join here. :)

-Credits: @radiant-reid

-Tag list: @reid-ingandweeping

Masterlist

Spencer's POV:

Fear was the first thing I felt when I came home to my wife, noticing she wasn't wearing our wedding ring. She always wears it, so why not now? Immediately my head was spinning with thousands of thoughts. Why isn't she wearing our wedding ring? Does she want to divorce? Did I do something wrong? Fell she out of love? How long is she feeling this way? Is there-

'Spence? Are you alright?' she pulled me out of my thoughts, or rather the chaos in my head, as I looked dumbfounded at her.

'Y-yeah.' I was quick in discarding my coat and satchel, walking towards the love of my life and giving her a quick pack on the lips, before disappearing into our shared bedroom.

I wasn't ready yet to confront her, wanting to clear everything out by myself first. Maybe I did do something that upset her? Or maybe she really fell out of love? This thought made me start to panic. I don't want to lose her. I can't lose her. A single tear, escaping my eye, as I heard a soft knock on the door.

'Spence? Can I come in?' It didn't take a profiler to hear the worry in her voice.

But yet, I couldn't answer. I was too busy keeping up with my own thoughts, it was like I couldn't do something else.

'I'm coming in.' and just like she said, she opened the door.

In the meanwhile, the panic and fear had set in so fiercely, that tears were now fully streaming down my cheeks. The moment (Y/N) saw me, she ran into my arms, hugging me tightly, while drawing circles on my back, in attempt to comfort me.

'Shhh, it's okay. Everything is okay now. You're safe, I'm here.'

I kept her in my arms for a few more minutes, before my tears finally lessened. I slowly pulled away, facing her worried figure. She took my hands in hers, rubbing them softly.

'What's wrong, love?'

I no longer was able to hold myself in. I needed to know. Knowing deeply that her answer could break down my whole world.

'Do you- do you want to divorce?' she looked at me with widen eyes, filled with disbelief and shock.

'Wh-what? No, no of course not! Why in the world would you think that?' relief flooded over my body, while releasing a sigh I didn't know I was holding.

'You're not wearing your wedding ring. You always wear your wedding ring.'

'No, no, honey. You completely misunderstood. When you went to see Ethan, I decided to do something I hadn't done in a while. Painting. I took the ring off because, knowing me, I can't paint without having my hands full of it. I just didn't want it to get dirty, and forgot putting it back on.' I began to relax more, hearing now the logical explanation, while feeling a little shame for getting to such a conclusion.

'It's right-' she disappeared out of the room for a moment, returning quickly back.

'here.' she continued, holding the ring and putting it back on.

'I'm sorry, I thought that. I just panicked because you never not wear it. I'm sorry.'

'It's alright, love. Don't worry about it. You just need to remember that I love you very much and that I am still happily married.' I felt her soft lips on mine, kissing me passionately. I kissed her back, both chuckling in the process.

'I love you. You are my whole world, you know that?'

'I do.' she smiled.

'As long as you know that you are my whole universe.'

_________________________

[belokhvostikova]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Following Friday’s events, Eddie Munson was on a mission to apologize to you, though everything fell short when your life began to crumble in a matter of hours.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, yelling, crying, self-deprecating thoughts, violence, experienced anxiety and panic attack, mentions of childhood abuse and neglect, and brief mentions of blood, body shaming, and non consensual touching.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | For the sake of my sanity, I'm going to need all of you to ignore the blatantly unrealistic process of making a book in this story, lol. If there are any necessary warnings that were accidently left out, please feel free to let me know!

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡

Whatever mantra of the Munson Doctrine Eddie had been feeding himself to believe about the highest of the social hierarchy embedded within Hawkins High was really starting to fall short, specifically when your pretty face started monopolizing every one of his thoughts imaginable. 

As much as he’d like to admit otherwise, Eddie Munson liked staring at your face, and it was really starting to piss him off just how much he really liked doing it. And the situation only became worse when he steadily watched your wonted bewitching smile fade into a disheartened look of dejection, because that following weekend after your impromptu photo shoot with Hellfire, became the worst week of your life.

And Eddie Munson watched it entirely unravel right in front of him.

It never really occurred to Eddie just how much he’d casually gawk at you prior to said photo shoot. I mean, you were the face of the school, of course, you were hard to miss when you practically lit up the halls with your smile. And that’s merely what Eddie had chalked it up to; your popularity involuntarily placed you at the forefront of his attention. It wasn’t the small strands of baby hairs that perfectly framed your face, whether you decided to keep your hair natural, or styled it for the fun of it; it wasn’t your enthralling eyes that seemed to almost squint close because your cheeks became so full of delight with your spellbinding laugh; and it definitely wasn’t your apologetic reassurance that everything was okay to the kid from the drama club who accidentally bumped into you, causing you to drop your books, and you gave Andy McAvoy a stern talking to when he tried to defend your honor with violence against the poor kid. 

No, it was none of that that caught Eddie Munson’s attention to you (he forced himself to believe).

But now, things are different.

He’d actually gotten a chance to talk to you—yes, that cafeteria instance was the first time Eddie Munson had ever actually spoken to you, and he berated you with dehumanizing comments—and he blew it with his rash decision to automate you into a box of prissy cheerleaders that had nothing better to do than gossip with their friends- ah yes, that box, that was formulated by sexist losers who used it to justified their mean actions against innocent teenage girls. Oh, fuck, Eddie cringed to himself at the sudden self-realization. 

He had to fix this. He didn’t even have to confess his feelings—which, he didn’t have *cough* *cough*—he just had to apologize for his mistakes. What he wanted to believe to be patronizing was actually sincere on your part, and you didn’t deserve any of his degrading tirade. And his conscience was letting it be known. Resuming the campaign had been a shit-show that Friday, when all he could focus on was your crying face. It became even worse when he realized that he’d never actually seen you drive—always painfully third-wheeling with Jason Carver and Chrissy Cunningham, or silently pleading to Patrick McKinney to control Andy McAvoy when he felt entitled to nonconsensually feel you up in his convertible when they drove you to school—meaning you were probably left crying alone at night waiting to be picked up, or worse, walking home. And you did it just for him. For his friends. To be included in some stupid fucking yearbook, because he made a big deal out of it in the first place.  

Oh, shit, he was an awful fucking person, Eddie thought.  

So, come Monday morning, he would apologize. He had all weekend to find the right words, rehearse his apology to perfection, and plan when to actually say it to you. 

But Eddie Munson never got to correctly apologize to you on Monday. 

Because aforementioned, Monday was the start of the worst week of your life, and he got scared and simply watched everything happen.

- 

“No running in the halls, young lady.” Mr. Long sternly reminded, as you zoomed past him.

“Sorry, sir.” You weren’t sorry. The second he turned the corner, you picked up the pace and ran to the newspaper room, frantically attempting to shove the slender key into the slot with shaky hands. 

Earlier on Saturday, the Yearbook Committee had worked to finish the final draft of the Hawkins High 1986 Yearbook, and with the team’s effort, you all concluded the first official copy that held the recognition of all staff and students intertwined with a school year’s worth of memorabilia, squished between the glossy green and orange cover that encapsulated Hawkins High. 

And now, you were about to destroy it. 

Sixty minutes. You had sixty minutes. You managed to wake up early that Monday morning, practically running to school, and situating yourself within the newspaper room—sweaty and exhausted—an hour early before the bell rang to commence the school day. In truth, you’d like to say you were a badass, and demolished the yearbook with no regrets, but reality had quite literally sucked, and you were panicking for a solid five minutes before you came to a consensus. 

It had to be destroyed- well, not destroyed, just unbinded. God, you were such a dramatic coward. 

See, that Saturday afternoon with the Yearbook Committee, you had done your part, you really did. You gathered photos, helped have them printed, assisted Nancy Wheeler with the placement of pages, and took over binding the book together when Fred Benson’s scrawny hands cramped into oblivion. You also may have—very discreetly—had Hellfire’s picture printed, created an entirely new page to fit them between the Glee and Math Club, and it was then you realized you didn’t even know half of their names. It had never occurred to you on Friday night that—with the exception of Eddie Munson, Lucas Sinclair, and Mike Wheeler—you never caught the names of the other four members, prompting you to lose precious time after having to locate their stupid names in the student registry for identification—they weren’t stupid, you were just really frustrated at that point.

And now, on this fine Monday morning, you persevered through blistering callouses, contracting muscles, and sore knuckles to unbind and bind back the yearbook with an additional page within the “Hawkins High’s Clubs” recognitional section.

Hellfire’s page.

And it was perfect. 

The pages were still intact with their crisp stiffness of that of a newly unopened book, and you cleaned off any smudges that impaired the quality of work within the creation. You stood back. You couldn’t help the soft giggle that left your lips at the mere sight of Hellfire sticking out like a sore thumb against the formality of the other photos—in true Hellfire fashion. But there it was. Their title, their photo, and their names that gave them the minimal ask to simply be acknowledged in a school that consistently disregarded their beings, and you were happy they finally got it. They deserved it. Even if Friday’s event left you crying alone in your bed feeling awful. It was worth it. Your thumb gently caressed the smooth page of their photo—Eddie’s photo—and reminisced on that night.

Had you actually done something terrible? Was Eddie right to call you out on your actions? You certainly knew you hadn’t caused this entire commotion out of pitiness, though you understood where he may have interpreted it as such. I mean, even though you never did anything, your friends made his life a living hell, villainizing his differences, casting him as a danger to society, affecting his life beyond just a superficial high school social life. It was true torment. 

You understood the facade which Eddie Munson had to put on to protect himself, but what you didn’t understand was the sudden shallowness that appeared when you thought you proved yourself to be more than just a ditzy cheerleader. Why were you even trying to prove yourself to some guy? Eddie Munson was an awful person. Right? He yelled at you, judged you, degraded you, and all for nothing- well, as far as you knew. So yeah, Eddie Munson was an awful person. You may have understood him, but he was still an asshole. You’d done your part, adding Hellfire to the yearbook, and that was that. That was all you needed to do. You no longer had to think about his stupid feelings, his stupid hair—which you totally didn’t want to run your hands through—his stupid brown eyes that made you shutter as they bore into yours, and his stupidly beautiful smile. You also kinda wondered how his hands might feel on your-

“What are you doing here?”

Jesus Christ, how long has Nancy Wheeler been standing there? You didn’t even hear the door open. 

“Uh, um, j-just looking at the, uh, yearbook?” You mumbled. You wished you had better control over your facial expressions, because right now, Nancy Wheeler was eyeing the fuck out of your worried guise. 

“You came to school early just to see the yearbook?” She questioned. 

“W-well, yeah, I mean, isn’t that why you’re here early? …Right?” You prayed.

Nancy blinked. “Yeah, I guess, just had to make sure everything was correct before Fred takes it to make copies.”

“Oh, Fred’s here?” You piqued with interest. 

Fred Benson didn’t actually pique your interest all too much—though, it was quite fascinating seeing how fast his slender fingers would cramp after just a couple minutes of working—but he did give the perfect escape from Nancy Wheeler’s captious glare. 

“Uh, yeah, he’s out front waiting for the book-”

“I’ll hand it to him!” You interjected, watching her face scrunch with confusion. You could only awkwardly laugh, “You know me and Fred,” you zoomed right past her, “just always so, uh… tight.” And you left without further explanation. 

Shoving Mr. Long’s word of chastisement right up his ass, you ran down the empty hall, yearbook held tightly in your tired hands, as you rejected any of Nancy’s calls for you to come back. Reaching the double glass doors, you spotted Fred mindlessly tweaking with his camera in the front seat of his car.

“Fred!” You could visibly make out the bewildered “huh” that fell from his gaping mouth from your sudden appearance. “Fred, here take this and go!” You shoved the yearbook past the small crack of his window. 

“W-wait, didn’t Nancy want to che-”

“No, she sent me to give this to you!” You urged. “And she said go now, or else the copies won’t be done in time!” My god, the entirety of this situation had you lying more than you ever had in your life. 

“But the distributors don’t close until six-”

“Fred, I don’t care!” You whined. “Do you really want to make Nancy upset?!” If your calculations were correct, Nancy Wheeler’s flats were currently speed walking—she was one to follow the rules—past Mrs. Durberry’s science classroom, meaning you had ten more seconds until she appeared. 

“Well, n-no-”

“Then drive! Now, please!” He scrambled to turn his car on, and luckily, the old piece of junk managed to roar alive with a heavy blow of carbon dioxide, and you heaved watching Fred Benson skirt past the incoming wave of students on bikes and cars, leaving tire tracks on the cracked pavements. When he came back, you’d be sure to apologize for demanding him so aggressively.

Nancy Wheeler screamed your name. 

Turning around, she came pummeling towards you with a might of pure irritation. “What the hell was that?! I didn’t even get to check the book!”

You huffed with exhaustion. It was only 8:18 a.m and it had already been a long day. “Nance, come on, I’ve been on the Yearbook Committee for the last three years, don’t you trust me by now?” Admittedly, guilting Nancy probably wasn’t the best option, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“I don’t care how long you’ve been in the committee, I have the authority to make final calls, not you!” Gee, you really had an act for getting people to yell in your face. Were you actually the problem?

“Look, I understand, but I promise everything was perfect with the yearbook. I mean, come on, you saw the finished product on Saturday when we completed it.” You reasoned. 

Nancy took a deep breath to regulate herself. “This is your only strike.” She pointed a finger at you like a child. “You pull something like this again, and you're off the committee. Understand?”

You swallowed thickly. The trouble you went through just for Eddie Munson- his friends. Just for his friends. “Yes, I understand.” You submitted quietly. “But I promise, the book was fine, everything is going to be perfectly okay.”

Everything was not perfectly okay.

Because unlike your little white lie of being “tight” with Fred Benson, he actually was with Nancy Wheeler, and, boy, did he rat you out when he paged through the printed copies of the yearbook and found the seven believed satanic cultists mischievously smiling right back at him, tainting the committee’s precious work. 

-

It was in the midst of your A.P U.S History class when the staticy call of your name over the intercom interrupted Mr. Whitney’s lecture of the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution, and prompted you to the principal’s office at 10:57 a.m. Now, it wasn’t an unusual occurrence for Principal Higgins to often call you down as you were a valued student representative of Hawkins High, though you quickly knew your visitation had nothing in relation to an honor medal or scholarship award. No, it became quite evident that such subject matter was beyond any congratulations to you, because upon entering, you were faced with a choleric Nancy Wheeler, displeased Principal Higgins, and timid Fred Benson. You were fucking screwed, I mean, Principal Higgins quite literally had a yearbook in his hand. Crazy part of it all is that a good third of your being actually believed you may have gotten away with it, but they managed to find out in a matter of two fucking hours. Who were you kidding?

There was only so much nonchalant-ness you could mask, though your previous revelation of being unable to control your facial expressions was really biting you in the ass, and your insistent cracking under pressure was palpable. 

Your wide eyes flashed between everyone as they stared you down. You didn’t speak. You couldn’t even manage to speak. And they didn’t speak. Why wasn’t anyone speaking?

“Aw, you miss me already, Higgy-”

Everyone’s attention snapped at Eddie’s sneering voice as he strutted his grand entrance, though he was quick to flinch back in surprise when he saw everyone looking at him. And you, shit you were here! You were here looking at him. He’d been searching for you all morning just to apologize, and now you were here… with everyone… why was everyone here?

“Now that I have everyone situated,” Principal Higgins cleared his throat, “I’d like to clear up a matter that has been brought to my attention. I’m sure as you all are well aware of, an unauthorized change has been made to our yearbook and I’m looking to get to the bottom of it.” Higgins turned to you, “Ms. Y/L/N,” he spoke with such care, “this is a safe place for honesty. Did Mr. Munson subject you into making these changes?” With a dramatic slam to his desk, the yearbook was turned open to showcase Hellfire’s designated spot on the page.

“What?!” Both you and Eddie questioned in unison. 

“I didn’t “subject” her to shit!” He was quick to rightfully defend. 

“Language!” Principal Higgins was even quicker to yell back. 

The atmosphere was taut, and it felt like their judgmental stares were swallowing you into an endless blackhole of utter disappointment and failure. You couldn’t even muster up the courage to meet their gaze, simply staring at the old rug beneath your sneakers, wishing it’d come alive and consume you already. 

“Ms. Y/L/N, is that true?” Principal Higgins lectured you.

A part of Eddie actually wished you would have lied and accused him of being the aggressor while you were the helpless victim, because that was the usual reality of Eddie Munson: to be denigrated. It would have justified his previous beratement against you from Friday, it would have supported his initial beliefs about you, it would have cleared him of being an asshole, and most of all, it would have changed the way he viewed you, from a genuinely beautiful person inside and out that took a sincere interest in bringing simple recognition to him and his friends to a cold-hearted superficial bitch that chalked up this elaborate plan as a vendetta with your jock friends.

But Eddie Munson knew you weren’t like that.

Which only made it hurt worse when he watched you pain through the sting of your manicured nails stabbing into your palms and your teeth sinking into your tender lip.

“Y-yes, that’s, uh, true, sir.” Your voice was so delicate, Eddie was ready to jump in and just take the blame. “He didn’t make me do anything, it was, uh, all me. I lied, and made him and his friends take the photo. And, well, I, uh, added the page and told Fred to print it.”

You shuddered at the sudden slap of the book, as Principal Higgins closed it with much despondency against you. “And is there valid reasoning as to why?!” Principal Higgins wasn’t one to be known for his placidness and he was quick to make that apparent. “You are the best student at this establishment, you should not be falling under influence of a hooligan like Mr. Munson! How have you fallen so naive all of a sudden?!”

You were really tugging on Eddie’s heart the way your eyes grew round with panic, completely helpless to the grown man scolding you, just as he did last Friday. And while he may have caused it the initial time, he’d be damned to watch it happen to you again.

“Hey, look, you can insult me all you want, but you don’t have to yell at her like she made some dire mistake!” Eddie lambasted Principal Higgins, far more harsh than any regular tone Eddie used when he was regularly being reprimanded. 

Higgins could only scoff in disbelief. “Vandalizing school property isn’t a mistake to you, Mr. Munson?! Well, given your grotesque track record of uncivilized activities, it seems as though I’ve answered my own question!” He sneered back with intended offense.

“Please, ‘vandalizing school property?!’” Eddie mocked. “She fucking put our picture in the yearbook, and for good reason, too. You’re the one at fault here, excluding students from recognition!”

The thudding sound of your heartbeat was completely muting you from the onslaught of shouts that was suffocating you in the tight room. While Nancy Wheeler was beginning to contemplate if telling Principal Higgins was too far, Fred Benson was merely watching with joy that none of the blame was being casted on him, and you, well, your body was racking with stiffness, as it suddenly felt like your airway was tightening every breath out of you. Your hands began shaking by your side, unable to control the instantaneous wave of trepidation, as everything was beginning to blur around you. 

And no one was noticing. 

“I have rightful reasons to exclude your gang of misfits from my yearbook!” Principal Higgins walked from his desk, standing against Eddie with pure spite in his eyes. “You and your posse of cons and aberrations have done nothing but taint the reputation of our school and town, running around like imbeciles who have nothing better to do than waste their lives away! And I will not stand to have you be associated with the work I’ve done to correct this school from delinquents like yourself!”

Chest heaving and nostrils flared, the Eddie Munson from the cafeteria instance was back, though angrier, and he was two seconds from actually gaining an assault charge from hitting Principal Higgins square in the face. But the older man was quick to turn, and eject his dissonant castigate towards you. 

“And you, missy!” Your eyes were blinking posthaste with fret to control the swell of tears that were burning your eyes, at the clashing outburst being directed against you. “How did you even gain the facilities to take such picture?!” 

Your mouth was dry with consternation, unable to formulate words, and simply quivering your mouth open.

And unlucky for you, Fred Benson spoke for you.

“After our yearbook meeting on Friday,” heads snapped at his gravelly voice, “she said she was going to stay after to work, and that she would lock up herself. She must have taken the key, and stolen a camera.”

Higgins scoffed with great disgust as he judged you, before turning to Nancy. “Ms. Wheeler, as president of the Yearbook Committee, had you permitted her to do so?” 

Nancy looked at you with guilt. She hadn’t anticipated the situation to blow up this much, though she spoke honestly to the authoritative eyes of Higgins. “Uh, no, I didn’t.” She meekly answered. 

“And Mr. Munson,” Eddie rolled his eyes, trying to control his frustrations before doing something he wouldn’t be able to take back. “When did Ms. Y/L/N enforce these photos?”

“Why the hell does that even matter?” Eddie gritted with a clenched jaw of tension.

“Mr. Munson, you choose not to answer me, and I will not hesitate to place you as an accomplice, and you certainly cannot afford another detention or suspension if you’re planning on finally ending this school year as a graduate.” In a perfect world, Eddie Munson would have lied for you and lessened whatever punishment you were about to receive, but Hawkins, Indiana was far from perfect, the threat made him budge under the pressure of his potential future and your distraught eyes.

“It was, uh, after her cheer practice. After school.” He sheepishly murmured with regret.

“Ah,” Principal Higgins turned to your shaking stature. “So, not only did you make unauthorized changes to the school yearbook, but you stole school property, used our equipment prohibitively outside of school hours, and actively unsubordinated my authority. I have to say, I am awfully disappointed in the person you have become, Ms. Y/L/N, and I am ashamed to have valued you so highly when you simply choose to go down the path of delinquency.” Everything about Principal Higgins words were humiliating and slammed you into a vicious cycle of believing the worst about yourself. “Finish the rest of your day,” he sighed, “but you’ll be suspended for the rest of the week for your actions.” Your heart sank at his news, and Eddie stood dumbfounded that he contributed to it. 

Your visions grew blurry under the swell of tears, and your breath was becoming sporadic with panic, and everyone just kept fucking staring at you. “N-no, sir, p-please!” You choked, “I-I have scholarships, a-and acceptances that I-I’m still waiting to hear back from, this could ruin that for me, p-please, sir!”

While your pleads were being disregarded, everyone stood stun watching your fate unfold in front of you. Eddie Munson didn’t know what to do. Nobody did. On top of being berated by him from Friday, you were now facing the worst possible consequence for something so trivial, and he watched it happen. Granted, there was quite literally nothing Eddie could do to fix the situation, but seeing you stand there, panicked about your future and trying to conceal your incoming sobs through the ache of heart palpitations, it was fucking excruciating for him to witness. 

“You should have thought about that before you made your choices. Everything is on you.” His words were ringing in your ear like a loop confirming everything you’ve ever hated about yourself. “I’ll be sure to let your father know of the news, and as for your spot on the committee, it is up to Ms. Wheeler to determine where you stand. Now go, everyone back to class.”

Fred Benson was first to leave, giddy to have been cleared from any trouble. Eddie Munson should have left, but he couldn’t stand to leave, simply watching you turn to Nancy Wheeler in a flash. Your round eyes were pleading to her to let you stay, but her previous words of “This is your only strike,” was tormenting you. She sighed, “I’m sorry,” and the shake of her head answered everything before she could verbalize it. 

You were off. 

You stormed out of the room, bumping shoulders with Eddie, though with no malice intent, just simply needing to get out. The second you reached the clearing of the empty hall, your tears were drowning your cheeks, your sobs so unbearably hard your breathing staggered for release. Suddenly, your little cashmere sweater felt like it was sticking to your skin, giving you hot flashes that brought dizziness to your pounding head. The blood battering your ears cleared out any noise, including Eddie’s calls of your name. He reached out to hold your arm, causing you to severely flinch in hysteria, and he appeared devastatingly concerned for your state of being.

“Sorry! Ar-are you okay?” He winced at the loud sob you choked out, as he felt stupid for even asking you that question. “Look, everything, uh, everything’s gonna be fine.” He rushed to reassure. In truth, Eddie Munson was completely talking out of his ass, he didn’t know if everything was going to be fine, your panicking was just causing him to panic, and all he wanted was for you to be okay. “J-just, uh, breathe for me.” He offered. 

“I-I c-can’t! I’m scared, Eddie, help me!” You pleaded with frightened eyes. 

Your beg hit too close to home. Suddenly, Eddie was a little boy curled up in the corner of his trashed living room, as he watched his parents abuse one another with words and fists. He pleaded the same words to his parents, who merely ignored his shaking little body. Such horrific events disfigured Eddie Munson’s belief of healing. No one cared for his emotions, no one cared for his feelings, and no one cared to make sure he was okay. So, yes, Eddie Munson yelled at you Friday night because he was petrified. Petrified to be hurt, just as everyone else had done, because to Eddie Munson, that was his fate. To be hurt and to be forgotten. Maybe that’s why he cared so much about being excluded from the school yearbook. While anyone would have rightfully been upset, being excluded cemented the notion that Eddie Munson was disposable. His father spoke it, the townspeople spoke, his teachers spoke, and his peers spoke it. But you didn’t, and that fucking scared him. It’s why he yelled, it’s why he panicked, and it’s why he’d try anything to help you right now.

“I-I know, sweetheart, just listen to me, please.” He quietly spoke. “I’m not gonna touch you or anything, I just really need you to listen to me.”

You fervently nodded your head, and he sighed with relief, because though minor, it was progress, and progress was incredible.

“I, uh, I want you to focus on my voice, okay?” His wide eyes connected with your red ones. “I wouldn’t lie to you, and I mean it when I say everything will be okay. I-I’ll make sure of it.” 

Could he physically do that? No. But would he try his damn hardest, putting his being through anything to make it happen? Yes. For you.

“Okay, I want you to-”

“What are you doing to her?!”

Eddie’s eyes screwed shut with disappointment. 

Jessica fucking Lewis.

“Get away from her!” She charged past him to get to your hysterical figure. “Did you do something?!”

“No, no, I’m trying to fucking help her.” Eddie implored. “Stop yelling, she’s having a fucking panic attack.” He gritted through his teeth.

“Don’t fucking come near her ever again, you freak!” Eddie watched as you tried to get your words out, but your shrinking throat made it impossible to get your voice out, and he recoiled, watching the fear in your eyes as Jessica held a tight grip in your arms. 

But before he could stop her, Jessica was dragging you into the girls bathroom, and he stood frozen doing everything in his power to not rip out his hair in frustration. 

-

Aside from her fault-finding comments against Eddie, Jessica Lewis had actually been a fairly good friend to you through the years of cheer, connecting with the girls through the pact of lifelong sisterhood, as she insisted. Though such pact also came with unwarranted advice when she felt one of you was “falling out of line” with a pristine, perfect image. That being said, when she found you panicking at the hands of Eddie Munson, she was actually concerned, impetuous, yes, but concerned, nonetheless. She’d sat with you, decisively skipping the rest of Mrs. Otis’ home economics class, to console you, bitching out any innocent girl to leave as they attempted to alleviate themselves, while you sat heaving with the back of your thighs sticking to cold tiles of the bathroom. When you did finally manage to catch your breath and calm your heart rate to a healthy status, Jessica had petted your hair with care, constantly asking what was wrong and what Eddie had done. Through your tremored voice, you hoarsely clarified that “He didn’t do anything,” and “He was just trying to help.” That revelation had actually baffled Jessica Lewis, honestly, some part of her believing you to be lying, but she gave it a rest when you assiduously shook your head in response to her asking what was actually wrong. By then, the bell had rung to signal the start of third period.

And it was during said third period when your situation only worsened completely unbeknownst to you.

While you were in the middle of trying to focus on your quiz—which proved damn near impossible after today’s events—Fred Benson was seemingly trying to get back at you for nearly inducing him into a heart attack after your actions almost cost him his spot on the Newspaper and Yearbook Committee (In reality, Nancy Wheeler had only yelled at him for not previously checking the books).

See, once Fred had informed the rest of the Yearbook Committee of what you had done and how you were being punished, the news had spread like wildfire; nerds, geeks, punks, jocks, everyone knew one version or another. “Perfect Cheerleader Falls Under Satanic Cultist’s Influence and Vandalizes School Facilities,'' small town high school students sure had a talent to dramatize any given situation. You’d only taken a picture, that’s all it was, but the students of Hawkins High had conspired together to formulate you into a freak slut who allegedly got fucked by the Eddie Munson after cheer practice in exchange for putting his club in the yearbook.

As the students of your class hurtled to mitigate the dreaded boredom of the school day with the clashing laughter and stale food of lunch, you sighed in your seat, head pounded and anxiety still churning in your mind and stomach, slowly packing up your belongings before handing over the quiz—quite literally the worst you’ve ever performed on one. Lunch seemed like the worst possible thing to conquer, right now. Despite the horrid grumbling of your stomach, you felt no need to satiate that hunger, as your appetite was long gone for the afternoon. In addition, you’d known Jessica Lewis long enough to know that she had informed all your friends of your panic attack, and if you chose to call her out on it, you knew you would only be met with a “I’m only trying to help,” as if you needed an intervention. She’d done it to Paige Semore when the girl healthy gained a couple pounds over the summer and got ridiculed by Jess.

But when you entered the cafeteria, you quickly wished you were subjected to Jessica Lewis’ harmful “advice”, rather than the reality you got.  

The sound of the heavy double doors announced your arrival, and suddenly all eyes were on you. No, like quite literally, all eyes were on you. No greeting smiles from acquaintances, no shying-away looks from crushing students, no bright wave hello from Chrissy Cunningham from across the cafeteria, in fact, she was heavily avoiding you, seemingly finding the table more interesting as Jason Carver glared at you. Everyone was staring at you as if, without notice, you had become the town pariah. Because you had. Your perturbation had bombarded you like a missile hit, as quiet whispers flooded your senses. Peering around you caught his eyeline. Eddie. His brows had severely been furrowed with much worry, because he knew. He knew how quickly it went around, and he knew just how bad the news got twisted. Now, he was no stranger to the onslaught of destructive rumors, but you weren’t, and with the day you had, his chest was pounding with dread for you.

Chalking it up to merely being in your head, you swallowed the lump in your throat, and with quick steps, you sped to your usual lunch table. But everyone kept staring- your friends were staring. “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?” You whispered, as they genuinely looked at you with disgust. 

“Why don’t you tell us?” Jason scowled. “Seems like you’re the one who caused all of this, you desperate slut.”

Your mouth dropped incredulously. “What did you just call me?”

“You fucking heard me!” Jason stood from his chair, rejecting Chrissy’s quiet ask to not cause a scene. “It’s exactly what you are.” He laughed.

Eddie Munson’s residual anger was fueling. Hard. He stood from his chair all the way across the room, metal legs scraping the floor with a deafening screech. But his presence only caught the worst attention. “Oh, would you look at that? Your little freak coming to help you?”

Eddie faltered at your watery eyes, begging for everything to just stop. If he spoke, nothing would help you. “What are you talking about?” Your voice stung with pleads to just understand what was happening to you.

“Stop acting like you don’t fucking know!” Andy’s booming voice startled you. “You wanna choose some gross freak to fuck, then fine by us, go right ahead, but don’t think that you’ll be able to with us!” Andy McAvoy was taking it far more personal. He liked you. That was obvious. But hearing the rumors simply led him to believe you chose Eddie Munson over him.

“What?” Your voice cracked in distress. 

Eddie had had enough. 

“She didn’t fucking do anything!” He marched his way over. All the boys of the basketball team stood in preparation for a fight that Eddie Munson was known to love to finish. Finish, not start. “Your bland lives got that fucking boring you all have to go around making shit up to make things interesting?! She didn’t do anything!”

“Aw, defending your precious little fuck toy, isn’t that cu-”

Chrissy Cunningham's shrilling scream startled the entire cafeteria as Jason Carver’s blood stained her powdery skin. You flinched at the bone-crunching punch that busted Jason’s pretty face, and everything felt heavy in your chest. Your hands were beginning to shake beyond your control, as everything was horrifyingly disfiguring in front of you. It was happening again. Before your mind was about to shut off from the assault of today’s events, your instinct had elicited all rash decisions, and you had to leave. All you could comprehend was the diffusing sounds of students instigating the fight before everything fell silent and you trudged down the hall to escape.

Staff were quick to call Eddie’s name before another detrimental hit was casted upon Jason. It was only then, Eddie’s judgment was left unclouded, and he noticed you were gone. “Did she leave?” He hadn’t necessarily asked anyone in particular, moreso questioning himself, but Chrissy Cunningham had ardently answered him with a swift nod of her head and bulging eyes of fear. 

Eddie broke through the doors with force, catching you near the end of the hall. “Y/N!” You didn’t turn, though. Every repeated call of your name fell with no response, and he chased you down, following you into the zephyr of the afternoon weather outside. “Y/N, c’mon, wait!” He’d grabbed your arm.

“What?!”

Eddie staggered at your biting tone. Not once, in the four years he’d known of you—freshman to senior year—had he ever heard your voice so malicious, yet drowning in urgence to make everything stop. Your inconsolable state devastating him helplessly. 

“I-I’m sorry.” He sighed so softly.

“‘Sorry?’” You affronted. “Now you’re sorry?! After everything that’s happened! Why, is it out of fucking pity?!” Internally, Eddie was begging you to stop, because if you kept yelling at him like this, his defense mechanism was going to lash out, especially when he was already angry from everything that’s just happened. “I don’t want some stupid apology, not when every time you appear, my life gets worse! I just want you away!” You cried.

Eddie scoffed in disbelief. Were you actually blaming him for all this? No, you weren’t. But after the day you just had, you were not looking to be comforted by someone who partially hurt you. But Eddie Munson couldn’t understand. His judgment had a habit of being clouded; his cynicism about anything good happening to him had protected him from a lifetime of hurt, and now, unfortunately, your rightfully pent up polemic about him was believing his suspicions to be true. 

“This isn’t my fucking fault, you’re the one who wanted to take our picture in the first place!” He shouted, shielding his vulnerability. 

“Because you made a big deal out of it!” You screamed with frustration. “You yelled at me first, you said mean things to me first- why- why were you so mean to me?!” You blubbered through drowning tears.

“Because- be- ugh,” Eddie pained with vexation. “You fucking terrify me, okay?! You terrify the living shit out of me!” Guarding his tearing eyes from your shattered being, he groaned realizing you weren’t going to understand unless he opened up, but he couldn’t bear to, and maybe that was the best solution to move on, run away. “It’s just fucking hard when, you know, you look like that and you’re fucking you, and I’m just me, and you have a great life-”

“‘Great life?!’” You derided through tears. “You know nothing about my life!” You shoved him. “You know nothing about me!” You shoved him again. Eddie was quick to retrain your wrist in a tight grip, preventing you from touching him again, no matter how hard you tried. “Stop acting like you know everything about me when you know absolutely nothing! I’m not going to stand here, and let you say mean things to me, when you know nothing, do you understand?! I have never done anything to you, and I never will, because unlike you, I’m not some sulking asshole who can’t handle their fucking emotions, and uses their sorry life to lash out at people because they’re too pathetic to deal with their own problems!”

And maybe your rash psycho analysis of Eddie Munson was too much, or not harsh enough, but either way, your critical comments derailed him off the edge of sanity. He aggressively dropped your wrist, and got into your face with a full might of fury. “You are such a miserable bitch!” He shouted, invading your space with intent, causing you to wince and step away from him, but he wasn’t relenting. “For once, you got a fucking taste of what your bullshit friends have been doing to me, and now you can’t fucking handle it?! God, just love playing the fucking victim, don’t you?! Maybe they are right, maybe you are just some fucking desperate slut craving fucking attention?! Is that why you did all this shit in the first place?!”

The way your face flashed with sudden dejection had him biting his tongue. Oh, fuck. He regretted it. He fucking immediately regretted it. 

Eddie began furiously shaking his head in denial to what he just uttered, he couldn’t believe it. “No,” he heaved out. “No, I-I didn’t mean it, I’m s-sorry.” He could only muster a whisper.

You didn’t even have the energy to fight back, merely accepting his words as truth with a silent sob that burned your being. “Yeah,” you shakily sighed with a sniffle of sobs. “I’m sorry, too, Eddie. I would have loved being your friend, and now I just want nothing to do with you.” His heart dropped at your calmness. When he first spoke those words to you, demanding you to stay away from him and his friends, he knew a deep part of him didn’t mean it. Why would he, you were fucking perfect? But you, the stillness and tranquility of your words cemented them to be the final verdict. You were done. “So please,” you wiped your drenched face from tears, “just leave me alone and stay away from me.”

No malice, no anger, no fury.

Just pure defeat.

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | This is my first time making a tag list, and I got overwhelmed—in a good way—that I simply tagged anyone who commented. If you were not looking to be tagged, I’m so sincerely sorry, and please let me know to respect your wishes and remove you!

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