#i suddenly remembered this and i was struck by inspiration

[saikkunen]

😘

[mwagneto]

kérlek, mi az a csodás muzsika a videó alatt 🥺 (anyám is reblogolta a videót btw lol)

you're tumblr mutuals with your MOTHER??? babe wake up new type of guy just dropped

song name is мой мармеладный (Я не права) / moj marmeladnyj (ya ne prava)

theres an original but i used the tiktok version for the edit because despite never having been on tiktok someone sent me a fancam with it like, well over a year ago and that version of the song came back to haunt me on monday and wouldn't leave til i made a fancam of two gay politicians with it

[aceforwhatevenisthis]

OC-Tober 2023 Day 9: Future

Artur's hands were bleeding from tightly gripping the sword; trying in vain to stop the blade from puncturing his heart. It was no use.

Jackson glared at him with such hatred, such vindication, that Artur had never seen in the young man. So much so, that Jackson's blue eyes were a vibrant purple. Some sort of magic was at play here. It seemed as though all Artur's actions, all his sins, had come back to spite him until the very end.

Artur gasped; no words came out. Jackson tightened his grip and dug the sword in. Was he sorry for all that he'd done? All his time and effort dedicated to perpetuating a fabricated war? Just so that he could, what? Prove himself supreme? Supreme to whom?

It didn't matter. The light in his gray eyes faded out anyways.

[satoruan]

YOUR BIGGEST FAN — GETO SUGURU

✧･. on vacation with your family, you discover that your biggest fan may not be a mystery after fall.

( TW ) f!reader. camgirl!reader. stepbrother!Geto (in a plot device way, no nii-chan and stuff.) unprotected sex. cream pie. phone sex. squirting. fingering. mutual masturbation. cunnilingus. deception. mentions of bullying. misunderstandings. hurt/comfort. explicit content.  

word count - > 6.6k

authors note. can you see I wasn’t creative with the username? I have a love-hate relationship with this fic because I feel like it goes from 0 to 100 real quick lmfao. This is heavily inspired by the book Eyes on Me! 

“I bet you look handsome.” You smile at the black screen with the default profile picture floating in the middle. 

‘Nah.’ User @Sssman72  types into the chat the takes up the left half of your computer. 

“Stop! Don’t say think bad things about yourself,” You laugh, making sure your tits jiggle in the flimsy red lingerie you're wearing. “I know your handsome baby.” You reassure your favorite client. The man who alone gives you 50% of your income. He’s the one who bought you this pretty lingerie set you're wearing.  

‘You look tired babydoll...how was today?’ He types. 

“I’m fine, I promise, just had a long day, was on a few other private chats with some other customers the entire day.” You confess. In all honesty after this call you were planning to pass out and try to get a few hours of sleep before you had to fly out to your family's vacation home. Today on your live stream, you told your followers you were going on vacation for the next two weeks and wouldn't be online. You didn't plan to get on a call with @Sssman72 but he had texted you as you were getting ready to go to bed that he had a bad day and wanted to see you. Before you had a chance to protest, he spent you 500 and said it would only be 30 minutes. You gave in because first he was your biggest supporter and you wanted to be there for him in some way with all the money and gifts, he sends you and second, you didn’t mind chatting with him, you thought he was the sweetest and you struck lucky the day he joined one of your lives.  

‘I’ll let you go then, I want you to get some rest before your flight, sorry for keeping you up beautiful just needed to vent about my ass job.’ 

“I’m always here for you handsome, I'll make sure to send you those pictures you requested through the week.” 

‘Make sure you enjoy your break babydoll, don’t gotta worry about me. Goodnight.’ 

You say your goodbyes and end up falling asleep in the lingerie bought you as soon as you shut your laptop. 

— 

“How’s college y/n?” Your stepfather asks when you slide into the back seat of the car. Your mother fitting the last of your luggage into the trunk.  

“it’s fine, some of my classes are difficult but nothing I can't manage.” You answer as you buckle in. 

“Oh yeah? Thats good. You mom tells me you started a job a few months ago, how's that working out for you?”  

You tense under the small blanket you’ve thrown over yourself. 

“u-uhm yeah its good—yeah it’s been fun.” 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I don't remember what you mother told me you did again.” He chuckles. 

“Uhm—I'm a bartender, m-my friend works there and got me a position.” You tell him the lie you've rehearsed hundreds of times. You start to sweat under the blanket. Did he buy it? What if he and your mom found out what you did? Are they planning to ambush you when you get to the house? They're going to make you drop out and chain you up in the basement when they find out. You throw the blanket off, suddenly too hot and alert. Guess that nap you were planning on taking during the drive wasn’t happening. 

“Oh, that’s fun sweetheart, I remember I bartended awhile when I was in college, got fired for stealing the alcohol though,” He laughs at the memory before turning to look at you. “You wouldn’t do that though, you’re a good girl.” 

You nod, thankful that your mom decided now to take your stepdad's attention away and get in the car. 

“Alrighty were good to!” She cheers. Your stepdad turns back around in his seat before starting the car. 

“Finally, thought we were going to get a fine parked here another minute.” 

“Oh, shut up! Y/n are you excited to go back to the vacation house? You haven’t been in years!” You mom asks as you guys pull out of the airport.  

“Yeah, I can’t wait to, I missed the hiking trails and the waterfalls. None of that in the big city.” You answer truthfully. You did miss the silence of the secluded house you vacationed at every summer since your mom married your stepdad. It was the company that you hated. As if your mom heard your thought, she says something that makes your heart drop. 

“Suguru feels the same way, we didn't even have to blackmail him to come! That boy...” 

“Suguru is coming?” You scream.  

“Coming? Sweetie, he’s already arrived this morning. I’m so excited were all together as a family again.” 

“Are you fucking serious mom? Turn the car around and bring me back to the airport!” You screech. You were not going to spend the next week with your bully of a stepbrother.  

“Y/n!” You mom gasps. 

“Sweetheart, he’s changed.” Your stepdad tells you as if that's going to make it better. 

“That’s what he wants you to think! He’s the worst human being on planet earth, please don’t make me spend the next few weeks with him, please mom,” you lean over the consul. “Please dad.” You pout at your stepfather. You know he gets weak whenever you call him dad. 

“Sweetheart...” 

“No! You aren’t sweet talking your way out of this, he’s changed. He isn't the same teenager with a chip on his shoulder, he’s matured. He even told me the reason he’s coming is to apologize and bond with you y/n.” 

“He’s lying mom! He doesn't care about me; I wouldn't be surprised if he told you that just so he could drown me in the lake. You guys own the land so nobody would find my body!” You start to tear up. You were going to jump out of the car if your parents didn't turn back around. Your stepbrother was your biggest tormentor since the day you met him. From picking on you at home to getting the girls to bully you at school. He made your life hell for four years. The day you left for college you screamed how much you hated him and told your parents that the four of you would only be in the same room again when you lay in a casket. 

“Oh, don’t cry sweetheart. Your mother is right, he’s changed, I wouldn’t have allowed him around you if he hadn’t. Give us a week and if you want to leave, I promise I'll drive you back to the airport and you’ll never have to see him again, please?” 

“No.” You cross your arms and look out the window despite knowing that they’ve won. You can’t jump out of the car now that you are on the highway, and you didn’t bring your own car to drive yourself back to the airport. 

“We’ll give you the master suite, the whole attic floor to yourself.” They bargain. You act like you’re thinking of accepting the offer. With the master suite taking up the entire third floor you could lock yourself up there and ignore Suguru. You could also film videos and even go live because the room is soundproof. You perk up at that. You could just spend your vacation on stream and chatting with @Sssman72. He’s somehow always free for you and told you that if you get bored you could call him. He’ll make up for your stepbrother’s awful behavior. 

“Fine, I’ll take the master suite.” 

— 

“Okay that's the last of your luggage, we’ll be having dinner in a few hours on the dock.” 

“Kay, thanks.”  You watch your stepdad shut the door. Once he does you release the tension in your shoulders. You lock the door before running to throw yourself onto the huge king bed. You sink down. You didn’t see Suguru when you arrived, you mom told you he was probably in town. You hope he stayed in town for the next two weeks.  

After laying it bed thinking about how much you hate Suguru with a passion you pull out your phone and open the porn app. You click on messages and open your chat with @Sssman72. 

‘Hey...I know I told you I was on vacation but I already wanna go home. You don't have to answer lol.’ You send. He immediately starts typing.  

‘Of course, I'll answer you babydoll. What’s wrong?’  Your face heats at the pet names. You wish you knew what he looked like, all he told you about himself was that he was in his twenties and worked for his father's company. You want to know more, what he looks like, what he sounds like. If the messages he sends make you sweat, you wonder what’ll happen if he spoke to them to you. In your head he’s a handsome bachelor who just so happened to find you and deem you worthy of his time and money but hell, he could be lying. He could be some old rich man in his eighties who likes young girls like all the rest of your viewers. The romantic part of you ignores that and is convinced he is who he says he is and that one day you’re going to meet in person and fall in and have a bunch of his babies. 

‘You know that stepbrother I told you about?’ 

“Mm, that asshole who bullied you?’ 

‘Yep, that asshole. Anyways I bet you won't guess who's here on vacation with me?’ 

‘Are you serious?’ 

‘Dead serious...my parents didn’t tell me until I was already trapped and now, I have to spend my vacation away with a man who hates me for no reason.’ 

‘Wow that’s crazy lol. Did your parents tell you why he chose to vacation with you if he doesn’t like you?’ 

‘Apparently he’s here to make amends...he’s probably here to kill me so he gets all the inheritance.’ 

‘Well, what if he’s really there to make amends baby?’ 

‘You should've heard the groan I just let out. I can’t believe you’re on his side babe. When I tell you that he too evil for that I mean it.’ 

‘Hey, you know I'm always on your side babydoll, I'm just giving you a man’s perspective on it. Maybe he realized he’s fucked up and he feels back so he wants to apologize for all the wrong he caused you’ 

‘Yea well from a women's perspective he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about anyone else but himself!’ 

‘Don’t say the baby...hypothetically what would he have to do to get you to forgive him?’ 

‘Hypothetically he's going to have to get on his knees and beg for my forgiveness every time he sees me until I deem, he's forgiven. And he’s also gonna have to send every dollar in his bank account to me AND be my slave for the rest of his life...hypothetically.’ 

‘Lol you never know babydoll, he just might be willing to do anything for your forgiveness. I know I would.’ 

‘That’s because you’re perfect and care about my feelings...now I'm gonna go get some sleep before having to eat with the devil. Pray he doesn’t poison me and I survive the night.’ 

— 

You sit at the dinning room table waiting for Suguru. Of course, he’s late, he doesn’t care about anyone's time but his. You say so to your parents. 

“Y/n stop being so harsh and give him a chance please.” You roll your eyes and go back to scrolling on social media.  

“Sorry I'm late.” You jump at the deep voice before whipping your head to the left where your stepbrother stands looking so...so different. 

“Suguru! No need to apologize! Come sit.” Your mother points to the empty seat opposite you. Suguru glances at you and smiles before walking to the seat. You gasp. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile at you or anyone else. Actually, you know he hasn’t smiled at anyone, he was know for being so stoic. You watch intensely as he pulls out the chair and sits. He looks like a different man, his hair is long, down past his shoulders, the black shirt he's wearing stretches around a huge chest. He looks like he spends half his day in the gym. And those eyes—those eyes that always had heavy eyebags and glared at everyone that looked his way, look at you with gentle look you can’t place. They even crease with the smile that he’s wearing. Your eyes widen, he has a fucking dimple. He looks like a gentleman, he looks handsome. You can't stop staring at his smile. 

“Y/n? You alright?” You Stepdad breaks through the haze you were in. You look at your parents and back to Suguru who all have concerned expressions on their faces.  You feel your entire body heat in embarrassment.  

‘Uhm—yea I'm fine.” You look at your parents, refusing to look back at that smile.  Suguru has different plans. 

“Hey y/n, it’s been a long time yeah?” Suguru says in that deep voice that has your heart beating faster.  Out the corner of your eye you watch as Suguru reaches over the food, holding his hand out. Does he really think you’re about to give him a damn handshake?  

...Are you seriously thinking about shaking that huge hand? No, you won’t. 

You purse your lips and cross your arms over your chest. You swear you see him glance down at your cleavage but the next second, he's holding eye contact. You blink and look away with a ‘hmm’. He lowers his hand.  

“Alright guys let's eat, okay?” You mom breaks the tension. Everyone grabs their share, and you eat in silence for a while, nobody brave enough to speak and you simmering with anger at Suguru. You throw glare at him every time you look up from your plate which happens more times than you’d admit.  

“You got something there.” Suguru points the sharp end of the fork at you. 

“What?” You ask. 

“There,” He grabs his napkin and starts to reach for you. You tense suddenly locked in place. Suguru brings the napkin to the corner of your mouth and wipes it. “There you go.” 

You stare at him like he's grown three heads. Maybe he’s dying and wants to make amends? Why else would he be treating you like this. Maybe someone took over his body? That has to be it. 

“Uh thanks?” You mummer, unsure what to say. 

“You're welcome little sis.” You choke on your spit. What the hell did he just call you!? He must be messing with you; you’re suddenly filled with rage. You glare at him, hoping he disintegrates with the sheer force of your stare. 

“You’ve grown up.” Suguru says after another blinking contest, you lost. 

“Yea, have you?” You snarl. He stops smiling. 

“I have,” he says seriously, setting his fork down. “I want to talk about—” 

“I don’t care.” 

“Please—” 

“No!” You slam your hand on the table, and he goes silent. You’re overcome with guilt before you remember that he bullied you for a year, that he told the entire school to bully you after he graduated. Fuck him. 

— 

You slam the door the door of your room speed walking to the bathroom. You strip your clothes before turning on the tub. You finally breathe when you settle into the scolding hot water. You needed to wash his gaze, his touch, off your body. The entire dinner after your conversation was awkward, your parents didn't really speak, and you refused to glance back up at Suguru who wouldn't stop staring.  

You hated him. You hated him. You—you can’t bring yourself to hate him. For some unknown reason you can’t bring yourself to hate him despite everything he's put you through. Why? You shake your head. You don’t want to think of Suguru while you're trying to relax. You phone dings. You pick up and a smile replaces your frown. @Sssman72. 

‘How are you babydoll, you alive?’ 

‘Yes, wish I wasn’t though.’ 

‘Why what happened during dinner?’ You sigh and send him voice message detailing everything that happened. 

‘Oh wow.’ 

‘I know.’ 

‘You gonna give him a chance to explain?’ 

‘I don’t know I don’t want to but also, I want to hear his explanation...can we call I really don't want to type all of this out?’  

‘Course, give me a second. I'll call you.’ You wait a few minutes before you hear the familiar ring. 

“Hi handsome.” you smile at the blank profile. Right now, you’d do anything to see him, to hear him comfort you, to be in his arms. He could be the ugliest man in the world, you wouldn’t care. 

‘HI beautiful. Talk to me.’ He types into the chat box. 

“I don't know. like I said I want to hear him out but also, I don't want to hear it because what it it’s bad, what if it doesn’t excuse it? But also, what if it does and I feel like shit for being mean back—it's just so stressful.” 

‘I know babydoll. I wish I could be there right now and hold you. I would do anything to take that hurt away. I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’ 

“Stop, don’t apologize you didn’t do anything. If anything, I should apologize for using you as a therapist when you paid to see me naked.” You laugh. 

‘Beautiful girl—I would rather pay to hear all your problems and be able to comfort you than see you naked again.’ 

“Wow you don’t want to see me naked, I'm hurt. Just kidding, thank you for saying that handsome.” You feel your heart skip a beat at his message. Maybe you can convince him to turn his camera on tonight. 

“I kinda wanna take my mind off everything right now.” You murmur into the phone before turning on your camera. You hold it above you and smile so he can see everything.  

‘So, fucking beautiful, prettiest girl in the world. You gonna give me a show?’ 

“hm,” You use your free hand to tap your chin. “Only if you do something for me.” 

‘And what is that?’ 

‘Can you turn your camera on? And before you say no, you don’ have to show your face—maybe you can just show your dick or something else. We can masturbate on the phone, please handsome please.” You whine giving him your best puppy face. You watch as the chat bubbles disappear and reappear. You’re about to back out but all the sudden you’re looking at a dim lit room and a huge cock between a big hand. Your eyes widen and the sight. 

"Y-you probably won’t be able to type and jack off at the same time” You suck in a breath. Please turn your audio on please... 

‘I’m gonna turn my audio on but I won’t talk, okay? Think you can get off on my moans babydoll?’  

You nod. 

‘Good girl now show me that pretty pussy, make it squirt for me.’ 

You lift yourself up to sit on the corner of the tub, propping one leg on tub and spreading the other that rests in the water. You flip the camera so your mystery man can watch you finger yourself. You hear him groan and spit onto his hand. 

You moan softly at the sound, teasing your entrance. You wish he was talking to through it, but you’ll settle for this for now. One day... 

“Mmm, wish you were the one fingering me right now,” You circle your clit before gliding your fingers out your cunt. 

“Wish you were here, holding me n' fucking me.” You curl your fingers into your g-spot and moan. You look back at your phone, watching your stranger play with the tip of his long cock. It looks so big compared to his hand, you know you’ll struggle to take it. Your pussy clenches around your small fingers that do close to nothing compared to your dildos at home.  

“Wan’ your cock in me so bad, it looks so big you’ll have to force me to take it, you’ll have to hold me down and make me take it.” You cry out. You watch as he squeezes his hand up and down his cock. It looks painful. He grunts louder. 

“M’gonna cum for you handsome, m’gonna give you what you want and make a mess,” You speed up your fingers to match how fast he slides his fist up and his cock. You moan louder, thankful that you got the suite and aren’t in the room next to your stepbrothers, how embarrassing it would be if he could hear you pleasuring yourself.  

You clench harder around your fingers. Your stranger starts to grunt and groan louder. You shiver at his deep voice on the edge of cumming. 

“Please please let me cum please! Can I come for you please?” You cry, your pussy starts to squelch, spurts of liquid coming out. 

“Yes, cum for me.” Your mystery man groans in an all too familiar voice but before you have time to think about it, you’re squirting, the grip on your phone loosening and falling into the water. 

“N-no!” 

— 

“Yes, this phone is done for, your mother and I are heading into town we can try to find a company that sells phone, but you know how small towns like this are.” You stepdad stares at your phone that’s been sitting in a container full of rice since last night.  

“Fuck, I need it for work! What am I going to do?” You look up at him in distress. 

“What do you need your phone for bartending?” He looks down at you incredulously. 

“My boss is sending me some important email and I didn't bring my computer.” You lie. 

“Well, you can use Suguru’s laptop, I saw him using it this morning in the sitting room. Think he left it there before he went on his run.” Your stepdad points down the hall as your mother rounds the corner.  

“Ready to go honey?” She asks your stepdad. 

“Coming! Use Suguru laptop to check your email, if we come back and you haven’t got the email you can use my phone. Bye! Have fun and be nice!” Your stepdad waves before following your mother. You wave back. 

 Of course, you had to use Suguru’s laptop. Maybe you can just log in, tell your stranger that you’re okay and that you won’t be able to contact him until you get a new phone and then delete the history before Suguru comes back from his run. It’ll only take a few minutes...you hope he doesn’t a password.  

You run to the sitting room, but you don’t see a laptop anywhere. Dammit, he always has to make things hard for you. You walk up the round staircase and down the hall until you're standing in front of Suguru’s room. You look around, as if Suguru's gonna pop up out of nowhere and attack you from going into his room. You shake the thought off and open his door. You stop and stare at the bed, you feel like you've seen that duvet. You chalk it up to a bunch of man having the same bedding before turning to scan the room for a laptop. You quickly spot the laptop on his desk and run to it. You sigh in relief when it opens to the last tab he had opened. Thank you Suguru for not caring about who gets into your shit. You click new tab and start to type in the name of the website you use before you freeze.  

You only need to type in three letters before the website popped up in top hits. You stop breathing. No... He couldn’t know what you do. Is that why he came here? Was he going to expose you to your parents? Was he acting nice to butter you up before crushing you? Your vision starts to blur. All boys watch porn, maybe he just happens to watch porn on the same website you film on. You can block your account from him so that he never finds you. You swallow before clicking the tab. You shakily move they pointer over to the search bar before you spot something in the left corner that makes you dizzy.  

Right where the username of the viewer is supposed to be is the username @Sssman72. Your heart stops and you feel wetness hit your hands. This can’t be real. You move to chat and cry out when you see your username. The last text he sent was asking what happened. No—this is a dream; you’re going to wake up and this is going to be a bad nightmare. You refuse to believe the man you’ve been slowly falling in love with over the last six months is your stepbrother, your bully. The man you confessed all your darkest secrets is the man who never showed you an ounce of kindness. Is this a part of his master plan? Is he going to blackmail you and hold all the nudes you’ve sent him and all the secrets you’ve told him over your head. You’re going to become his slave, doing whatever he wants of you until you die. You curl into yourself and cry harder at the thought.  

“Y/n? What are you do—” Suguru stops when he sees what's on the screen. “Let me explain please baby.” He reaches out to touch your shoulder. You flinch away from his touch.  

“D-don’t call me that,” You sob staring at him with such heartbreak in your eyes he wants to drop and beg for your forgiveness. “You-you, it was you the whole time.” Your voice breaks. 

Suguru nods slowly trying to reach out for you again. You take a few steps away. “Was this some masterplan to hold me under your thumb for the rest of my life!?” You scream at him. 

He’s grateful your parents went out of town; this would be an absolute shitshow if they were here.  

“No babydoll—” 

“I said don’t call me that you asshole! Stop pretending. I hate you Suguru! You win okay, you win!” You tell him before you run out of his room. He curses before running after you, you run up that stairs and into the suite but before you can shut the door Suguru shoves it open. You drop to your knees to pull your suitcase from under your bed. 

“Please listen to me y/n. I wasn’t faking—stop packing and let me explain.” Suguru pleads as he watches you throw your clothes into your suitcase. 

“Y/n, baby, please listen to me please” He grabs your arm, and you try to fight him, but he pulls you down onto the bed with him. He hugs you around the waist and you push in this chest trying to break free. His heart aches. He hates seeing you hurt, he hates that he was the one who made you cry like this. He hates that you only associate him with the version of himself that he created to stop anyone from seeing what he was truly feeling. He hates that you won’t accept the real version of him now that you know it was him. He holds you tighter as you scream and cry. He whispers sweet nothings as you whisper how much you hate him. At some point you stop fighting and wrapping your arms around his neck. You sniffle into his neck, and he rubs your backs and rocks you.  

“Why?” You ask hoarsely after all the anger leaves your body. Now you feel numb, like you're watching your life from a third perspective.   

“I never hated you, I never lied, and I never planned to blackmail you—I know you don’t believe me baby but everything I've ever told you on that app was real. Everything I feel for you is real.”   You pull your face out of his neck and stare up at him. You don’t believe him. 

“I have never hated you y/n. I swear it. I hated the fact that my father replaced my mother with yours not even a year after she died. Baby, I never fucking hated you. I was just a teenager who didn’t know how to express my emotions so I took them out of the person I knew I could hurt the most. It was bad I know; I feel like shit to this day. When I graduated and got away from my father, I realized how bad I was to you, and I got into therapy. I wanted to be better for myself, for you, for everyone around me. I didn’t know that the bullying continued when I left. I didn’t know how bad people had taken it until that day I came back home. When you told me off about it, I was so confused. I’m so fucking sorry. I want to reach out and apologize for everything and the day I planned to do it Satoru—my best friend, you remember him—well he sent me the link to your account and so I made an account and it all just spiralized out of control after that. I was too embarrassed to tell you it was me and then we started to form a connection, a real connection, and I didn’t want our conversations to end so—fuck I'm sorry. Everything I told you; I meant it. I fucking meant every word.”  

You sit there stunned, trying to comprehend everything he said. You never knew about his mother. You thought she had passed away long before your mom and his dad had met. But you remember when your stranger told you that. God, you remember when your not so mystery man told you about his family the seemed so familiar to yours. And he didn’t tell all those people to bully you after he left? Did he mean every word? Every word of affirmation he gave you. Those times when he told you that you were capable of being loved and that you were going to find someone who would love every part of you, the good and bad. Was that the same Suguru? You try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man you love is your stepbrother. 

“I know it’s a lot of information.” 

“It is.” 

“Do you believe me?” He looks at you with furrowed brows. You do. Despite everything you find yourself nodding. He sighs and you feel the tension release from his shoulders that your arms are wrapped around. You suddenly realize the position you two are in and feel your face heat. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and your legs are on either side of his thick thighs his cock, the cock that you saw last night, is right underneath you, if you lower yourself an inch, you’d be sitting on it.  

Suguru grips your waist with one hand, the other cupping the right side of your face. You look up at him and sniffle. He leans down until your foreheads are touching.  

“If you give me achance, I'll treat you like the queen you are. I’ll love you the way you’re meant to be loved. One chance is all I ask for.” He mummers rubbing your noses together.  

You hesitate, one part of you wants to run away with him because he’s the man you’ve wanted for the last six months. The other part of you wants to run away from him, he’s your stepbrother, he lied, and you don't know if he would’ve ever told you the truth. But isn’t that what he came here to do? Can you blame a little boy for being mad at the people who replaced his mother?  

You give him his answer by grabbind his neck and push his lips towards you. If this does go to hell at least you’ll have a story to tell your feature children.  

Suguru kisses back before standing and pulling you off him. “What—” 

“You said you wanted me on my knees, didn't you? I’m ready to serve you in any way you want. I can have my savings transferred to your account by tomorrow night.” He says as he drops to his knees. You stare at him with wide eyes as he holds your legs and starts kissing from knee to right where your pussy starts.  

“Suguru—” 

“Shh babydoll let me take care of my girl, show her how sorry I am for hurting her.” He mummers before dropping your leg and picking up the next one. He repeats this a few more times before finally asking you to lift your hips so he can pull your leggings and panties off. Suguru throws your pants behind him before standing up to pull your tank top off. You reach behind to unbuckle your bra and toss it on the floor with your other clothes. Suguru chuckles, reaching up to kiss all over your face. 

“Take your clothes off too Sugu.” You giggle, reaching for his sweatpants. You get a firm grip and yank them down. His thick cock bounces out. Your mouth goes slack. The phone call didn’t do it justice. It somehow looks bigger than before and if you weren’t wet before, you are now. That thing is going to be inside you soon.  

“Like what you see beautiful?” You nod dumbly as you watch Suguru step out of his pants and take his shirt off with one hand. He’s so fucking sexy.  

He drops back down to his knees and pulls you until your ass is hanging off the bed. “Lay down and let me please you.”  You comply and watch as Suguru lifts your legs up and buries his face in your cunt. Your hands fly down to his long shiny hair. 

“Suguru!” You moan as he licks you from asshole to clit. He sucks on your clit before biting both lips. Your pussy clenches. “Feels s’good Sugu!” You grind down on his talented tongue. Suguru hums into your clit before setting one of you thighs in his shoulder and bringing his fingers to your entrance. He teases you, only pushing his fingers into the joint before taking them out. You cry out in frustration before pulling on his long hair when he finally slides two big fingers into you. 

Yours definitely don't compare to his long thick ones. Your back arches off the bed as Suguru fingers jackhammer into you all the while his mouth sucks on your clit.  

“S’good Sugu! Don’t stop!” You scream letting go of hair with one hand to cover your loud mouth.  

“Don’t hide those sweet moans from me babydoll. If you want my cock, you’ll let me hear you scream my name as you cum on my fingers and mouth.” 

You bring you hand back to hair and grind hard as you get closer and closer to orgasm.  

“Gonna cum! M’gonna come!” You cry, as you release all over Suguru's face. He moans and sucks even harder before adding another finger. You cry at the sudden intrusion. It doesn't take long before you’re coming all over again, this time liquid shooting out of you and onto Sugu’s chest.  

“Yes baby, that's it—what a good girl,” He praises as he slurps up all your juices. “Such a fucking good gril f’me.” 

“Gimme a kiss.” You say between heavy breaths.  

“Does the pretty girl want kiss?” You nod, pulling Suguru down with you by the shoulders. 

“Want you to kiss me while you fuck me for the first time. Want it to be special,” You confess shyly. Suguru leans down and pecks you on the forehead, then the nose, and then both of your cheeks. 

“Don’ tease meanie!” You laugh when he kisses the corner of your lips. 

“M’sorry baby, can you forgive me?” He pouts.  

“Hmm—I’ll forgive you only if you kiss me right no—” You don’t even finish your sentence before Suguru shoves his tongue down your throat. You kiss him back and your tongues fight for dominance. Suguru wins and smiles into the kiss. You can’t believe this is happening. Your bully, your stepbrother, your mystery man is kissing you right now. Your about to make love with said man. 

“You okay babydoll?”  

“Mhm, just can’t believe this is all happening.” 

“Me too beautiful, you sure you want to do this right now? We can always wait.” 

“No, I want to. I want you.” You raise your hand to tuck his hair behind his ear. He smiles, showing you that adorable dimple. You kiss it.  

Suguru kisses your lips once more before he grabs his cock, rubbing it up and down your cunt. 

“Fuck—I don’t have a condom.” 

“I’m on the pill—please Sugu.” You beg, frustrated from all this foreplay. You’ve been on edge since last tight in the tub.  

“Alight beautiful,” He pushes the head of his cock into you. “Fuck me—you feel so good. Always knew you would.” You feel his fist guide his long cock into you. You moan. He fits you perfectly.  

“Sugu—feel’s s’good, want more!” You cry, fisting the blanket’s underneath you.  

“Does my baby want more—does she want to orgasm on my cock?” You nod watching Suguru lift your legs to his shoulder. He leans down, bringing your feet to the side of your head. You whine at the stretch. 

Suguru groans as he pulls his cock in and out of you.  

“S’too much!” You moan into his shoulder. He just laughs and picks up his pace. The fancy headboard above the bed starts to slam against the wall. You watch with blurry eyes as the stock photos hung on the wall shake.  

“Said you wanted more baby, ‘m giving you more.”  he says before biting into your neck. Hard. You scream, back arching at the pain. Your hands fist the sheets even tighter, knuckles turning white. Suguru unlatches his jaw. Lifting his head to admire his mark. Now all your customers will know you belong to someone. To him. He kisses the mark. 

“Sugu, It’s too much. Hurts! m’gonna cum!” You cry, tears soaking the blanket breath you. 

“Oh, don't cry baby—shhh—you’re so beautiful y/n. So damn pretty.” He whispers, coaxing you to orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You stop breathing for a second as your pussy contracts around Suguru's cock. Suguru follows in suit, spurting his cum deep inside your pussy. 

“Fuck,” he draws out, collapsing onto you.  

“T-that was—” 

“The best sex ‘ve ever had.” 

“Same.” You smile before wincing. 

“What’s wrong babydoll.”  

“You're about to break my damn hip if you keep my legs up any longer,” Suguru lefts himself enough to bring your legs to his sides. “And you probably ripped a chunk of my neck off with that little trick of yours.” You grumble. 

“It’s not bad, promise.” He kisses the bite mark softly. 

“And all the pictures fell of the wall.”  

“I’ll put ‘em back up baby,” He laughs into your ear. “Just let me hold you for a second.”  He kisses your cheek before snuggling deeper into you. You throw your arms around his shoulder while you both try to wrap your head around everything that happened.  

[vifilms]

THE SUNSHINE ON MY SHOULDERS STICKING LIKE HONEY

feat. contractor!abby x exgf!reader

content warning. eighteen+, smut, angst, some fluff sprinkled in, devastating dykes, nickname for reader (cherry), jealousy, long lost love trope, hazel (spoiler alert, she’s a cunt), just an emotional ass fic.

THE SUNSHINE ON MY SHOULDERS STICKING LIKE HONEY, she was the healing in a world that struck so much pain, a life you would like to forget, but can you truly forget just how much you loved her?

rayray sesh. been working on this baby for over a month and i’m very happy to post it on time! happy birthday, pookie — @sinstear ♡ this is my special crafted gift i wrote just for you on a day to celebrate just how amazing you are. erenboo, you deserve all the love in the world. i hope you enjoy this as much as i took joy in writing it for you. my love, sweat, tears, and cum are laced in it. special delivery. i love you so much, bub. always and forever.

✶ special shoutout to @hypnagogics aka my co-yap captain. thank you for proofreading my bigger projects. you are a godsend. my nonsensical typos would surely make it if it wasn’t for you. mwahmwah! you’re the sweetest, ily ♡

✶ header heavily inspired by the lovely @hcneymooners

word count, 14k.

❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 ❞

The more you try to hide from it, the harder it’ll be when you face it — at least those are the words Abby had heard from her old man for as long as she could remember. Suddenly, nearly thirty-years later, they reverberated in her mind like a ring of a bell. A vibrating reminder of how her life remained the same, your love having limitations, requirements she never could have been aware of at the ripe age of eighteen. 

All she needed was more time, more understanding, and a patient heart that was never reciprocated. On a day like today, she’s reminded of 

In Jacksonville, there wasn’t much going on, and talk travels faster than the speed of lightning. Murmurs of your return started the moment Dina found out, then it spread like wildfire. All of it feels just like yesterday but the spring of her youth is a far cry away, just dust and bones to be found on the ashes of adolescence.  

If the world was perfect, Abby could avoid all of this. 

Maybe if her life had turned out the way she envisioned. 

But it didn’t and neither did yours. Not as of late. Although Abby had to be tightlipped about it, business and pleasure entangled, all of that nonsense floating around her pretty head. A voice she once thought she had forgotten comes back with a violent need to be recognized, a calming notion before it punches her in the gut. 

Not to mention, she just had to be on your father’s payroll, had to face the person she was never good enough for. All of it feels nauseating. Excruciating. 

Reminder of a wound she’s never recovered from. Memories high and low come flooding, and with you in her line of vision, it only gets worse. 

Way fucking worse. 

“What is she doing back?” 

“As if anyone would want her here.” 

“Abby, was she even supposed to be here?” 

The questions pile along with the bile collecting in the back of Abby’s throat. The pit in her stomach manifests a black hole, feeling herself succumb to the spin of everyone’s empty threats spilling from her friends to you. Abby can tell just by the way you’re downing the glass of champagne and picking up the next, coming here wasn’t your choice.

If you could have helped it, you would have never come back in such a public setting.  

“Abby, are you listening?” She sighs, but still unable to take her eyes off you. 

“Do I need to rea—” 

“Yeah yeah, all of you hate them. I get it.” 

“It’s not that simple. They aren’t good for you.”

There’d been murmurs through the small town of your return. That’s what happens when your mom gets sick, you come home and that you did. The anniversary of your parents, forty years strong, is the first public appearance. The absence of your brother’s appearance isn’t talked about, it’s brushed over, just like everything else, just like you. 

“Yep, I got it.” 

“I’m just looking out for you. They don’t appreciate you and—” Abby shoots her a knowing glare, annoyed with the intrusion of everyone thinking they knew best instead of herself. 

“Yeah, like I said, I hear you, but you don’t fucking know her. Neither do I, certainly not anymore.” 

Running a hand through her blonde-glistening locks, the sunset saturates her golden as she ignores Hazel, taking a sip of her beer as she takes you in. Everyone always has shit to say about you. Your parents, her friends, Abby’s parents, but no one really knows you. 

It’s not easy for you to let people in, you seem as harsh as can be to others, but Abby knows you’re quite the opposite. 

Different from everyone in the room, a polished cream suit and open collared button up shirt with your delectable collarbones exposed, your rings twinkle as you pet the husky, one you don't know belongs to Abby. If you did, your hand might feel repelled. 

It’s what you always wanted. A life out of here, out of the small town where you’ve always felt judged, persecuted, even ostracized when you came out — and you succeeded — leaving Abby behind in the process. Even if you didn’t intend to, it sort of just…happens. We leave the ones we love behind, even if it’s our last possible intention. 

Goodbye notions simmer and we forget about the love we once had. 

“Hazel, Dina was asking for you, she mentioned needing some help finding JJ’s pacifier?” 

“On it!” Abby chuckles as the cherry-haired girl flees into the other direction as Ellie laughs harder when she’s gone. 

“You’re welcome. She's like a dog with a bone when it comes to your beautiful ex-girlfriend.” 

“Watch it. Calling another woman beautiful, Dina might just skin you alive.” 

“Nope. She loves me too much.” 

Ellie chuckles as they watch you down another glass of champagne. Freeing your hair from the tight bun, your hair springs to life as it falls around your shoulders, framing your jawline as piercing eyes find the weeds poking through the freshly cut grass. 

A few people had offered up a sloppy introduction, a grievance of pity, before returning to their groups. Anxiously, you tear at the loose thread on the cuff of your sleeve. It gets longer and longer, avoiding everyone watching you. 

Pretending you don’t exist. You never do. Not in this wretched town where all dreams get sucked into a bottomless pit, where believers go to die. 

Abby nods, the feeling builds in the pit of her stomach as she yearns to get closer to you. Even after all the hurtful insults thrown her way years back, she’s conflicted. A missile is thrown into her life with your arrival and all of her friends, besides Ellie, tell her not to fall back into old patterns. Not to fall for your charm, not to be a victim to reckless love. 

The kind that left her empty for years. Abby knew the moment she fell, from the very first time they met, if you ever left her she’d never be the same again. You don't forget a love like this. It tears a hole within you before you even get a chance to think about it, their presence consuming your entirety, an empty promise of endless salvation dies on the tip of your tongue. 

Impossible shoes to ever be filled. 

Truly, Abby thought she had been in love before you, but she wasn’t. The feeling she’s been chasing for the rest of her life returns when she looks at you. Those bright eyes when you play with the pup, the gentle hand as your scrap his chin with the crescent of your blunt nails. 

She feels more looking at you for one moment than anyone she’s dated after you. 

It’s sickening. 

Still, her friends ridicule her any chance they get. Telling her of what you’re like, how you hurt her, what you’ll do when your claws sink into Abby. It falls on a hyper fixated heart. She can’t think of anything when all the blood comes rushing to her head, how beautiful you look when she sees you anxiously biting your bottom lip, something you do when you’re attempting to stop the tears from spilling. 

None of them knew what it meant to look in your eyes and wonder how someone so good couldn’t recognize the purity in your eyes, the love you give out when the world feels like it’s crumbling around you. They didn’t see the years of torture, the family that wasn’t so perfect, the anger you held wound so tight. You didn’t have anywhere to put it. Never could. Not when the image of the perfect daughter is meant to be upheld. 

Not a soul knows the information Abby does. There’s nothing more you love than to hide in the shadows, hoping to be forgotten, how you nearly crave to be eaten alive if it means an end to your misery. It isn’t lost on her how much she wants to shield you from it all. 

“Why don’t you go and talk to her?” 

Ellie points the glass of wine she’s been nursing to you, watching as you excuse yourself into the empty guest house. Your body is still viewable through the tall glass windows, your body disappearing from the common area of the small home. The exact one she’s been renovating per your mother’s request. 

“She’ll just—” Absentmindedly, Abby kicks the dirt with the toe of her boot, rooting her heel in the ground as she bites the wall of her gums, trying to center herself. Attempting to not let her mind wander into what if’s, what could have been. 

“What? Figure out you’re scared?” 

“I’m not scared.” Sighing into the palm of her hands as she can’t help but bite into Ellie’s comment, “It’s been years. For all I know, Cherry hates my guts. Not that it fucking matters, but I’m the last person they want to talk to. Plus, when she’s upset the last thing they want is to talk.”  

“You’ll do just fine, can’t be too bad. They were always sweet on you.” 

“It’s been years, Hazel’s right, in some sense I—” 

“Please, even you know the only thing she wants is to get in your pants. That part is lost on me, you’re too beefy for my taste.”

“Some people like that, dick.” 

“Your girlfriend sure did.” 

“Ex-girlfriend.” 

The rest of the night Abby avoids all of her friends, especially the meddling junkie, Hazel; fucking hazel. She wouldn’t let her rest. They never had done more than share a friendly hug and for some reason she always looked at Abby like she hung all the stars spreading across the galaxy. 

“Are you going to let Hazel think she has a chance forever?” 

Abby just shakes her head in omission. 

“There’s no chance, I’m not—” 

“Abby! I got you a glass of lemonade. Sweet with just a few cubes of ice, just the way you like it!” Ellie wiggles her eyebrows at Abby as if she has proved her point. 

As soon as Hazel turns around, Ellie goes right back to the pitch of her ex-girlfriend, trying to sell Abby on the past. The only woman Dina and her had liked in her mess of a dating scene. A long line of hookups, one serious relationship that ended so horrifically the cops had to be called, and then there was Hazel. A naive girl who had been harboring a crush for nearly a year, the time Dina had adopted her into their little makeshift family. 

You walk out of the guest house more comfortably. A pair of dark denim and a black graphic tee with the sleeves cut off. Abby smiles at how much you look like the woman she fell in love with, the youthful ache she still feels with every beat of her heart. The one you crushed in the palm of her hands without thinking twice. 

Abby’s throat constricts when you catch her staring, quickly looking away, biting at your fingernails before your father introduces you to the new neighbors. 

“What’s so important, Hazel?” Ellie bites. 

Hazel ignores her. All she can see is Abby looking right at you. 

Abby had realized she completely zoned out, her energy and focus harbored on you. Five minutes within your arrival and her head was already feeling the rapid hum of her heartbeat caught in the bottom of her throat as you looked at her again, just for a second longer before you turned the other direction, away from her gaze. 

“Abby—” 

Abby hums absentmindedly with you on her mind, infecting her thoughts like a former addict getting their first fix for years. The high. It feels even better than her mind could remember. The curious gaze in bright eyes feels intoxicating, too good to be true, and the fall feels higher than it ever was to begin with. 

“Yeah?” 

“She’s coming over here.” 

It only takes a few minutes before Abby takes a swig at her beer, wipes the sweat collecting on the palm of her hands. When you get closer, she notices the engraving of A.A. engraved on a glimmering silver ring. 

Did you keep it after all this time? 

“Tell her to leave—” 

“Hazel, for the love of god, would you shut your mouth?” Ellie barks as you make your way over to Abby. 

Abby tries to make her resolve hard, icy even, but it’s not. Her electrified blue eyes are warm, full of curiosity and wonder, her freckled cheeks are flushed from the heat of the sun and her barely there grin has you offering one of your own. 

“Abigail, hey.” 

Abby is surprised you hug her and she doesn't want to accept but it feels too rude not to. But the second her arms envelop around your body you fit perfectly into her. Just like all those years ago, you’re everything she loves. Like no time has passed, as if you didn’t rip her heart and stump out the love it once held. 

“It’s just Abby now.” Hazel interjects. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know, Abby, right.” 

“How could you? You’d have to be around—” 

Ellie gently elbows Hazel in the stomach, trying to silence her best efforts to scare you away from the treasury stock of a blonde she believes to be hers. 

“Abby, sorry. I’m just—” 

“You’ve always called me, Abigail. It’s alright. Promise.”

There she is. 

The charm that makes you fall when you don’t need to. It’s laughable that Abigail can make years of therapy, years of dating other people to get over her seem like a dream, as if it’d only just been the two of you all of this time. Like nothing had changed. 

But everything has. 

“Um, do you mind if we talk in private?” 

Abigail follows your lead into the empty house, the party rages outside as the two of you sit in the living room, neither of you knowing what way to take your best foot forward. 

“Sorry if I made things awkward with you and your girlfriend—” 

“Oh, uh, she’s not….we’re not dating or anything.��� 

Shit. 

You wish she was. 

Abby doesn’t know what to think when the expression on your face wasn’t instant relief but instead turmoil within yourself. Your eyebrows furrowed as if you expected her to be in a relationship. It would leave you to escape from the overflow of feelings you had rushing through your core. 

“You look shocked.” 

“I just—” You bite your lip, looking anywhere but her, trying to put your best foot forward, like your father says, he’s the whole reason this conversation is even happening. “I can’t lie, it would have made this…easier? I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” 

“What are you trying to do?” Abby has a bubbly laugh threatening to burst but she swallows it for the sake of your dignity. 

“Okay, well that’s not nice.” 

“Do you want me to be?” 

“Well, my dad he just thought that—” 

“Wait, you’re talking to me because of your dad?” Abby stands up from the couch, rubbing her hands over her flushed face. “Not even because it’s been years, but because — well, why?” 

“He was just encouraging me. I’m nervous, isn’t that fucking obvious? I can’t even look at you without feeling like I’m eighteen again.” 

She’s standing at her tall height, looking down at you as you begin to cry. 

Well shit. 

“Hey, hey—” Abby sinks to the floor on her knees, her body between your legs. “C’mon, there’s no need for all of that.” 

“I hate that you haven’t changed.” 

“Did you want me to?” 

No, you say just to yourself. Not trusting the waver of your voice to give her the truth. There’s always so much on the line with her. Everything feels heavy, final, an anchor to hold you down but also drag everything you are, tangled with her sweet, honey-filled baby blues. 

“Can’t you be mean to me or something? Even the playing field a little bit.” 

“Not even a little, sweetheart. We both know I never could.” Her fingertips trace your forearm, a shiver courses throughout your body, “I will admit, everyone says I should.” 

“They’re right. I deserve it.” 

“If we all got what we deserved, well, that would be such an ugly world, wouldn’t it? Just because you did something hurtful doesn’t make you cruel. It makes you human.” 

“But I do deserve the cruelty.” 

“Fine, I hate you.” Abby says with a smirk on her face, wiping away a stray tear, looking too fondly on the woman who broke her heart. She’s too kind for her own good. 

The giggle Abby omits rivals sunshine. 

“I just didn’t want it to affect the work on the house, everything between us, it’s complicated and I’ll be in the guest house while my mom’s—” 

“I know, you don’t have to say it. Your dad may have mentioned it to me. I’m sorry, I truly am.” 

“I am too. For everything. I shouldn’t have left the way I did. I was so young, scared, and I wanted you to hate me. It just seemed easier than having you actually miss me.” 

“I did miss you.” Abby's warm palm might as well be burning your denim jeans through as she touches your thigh. “You could have done the worst thing imaginable and I still would have. I’ve never had, uh, reason with you I guess. Love doesn’t know scorn, like a child with a knife, even if you can get hurt — sometimes it’s worth it.” 

The stars in her blue eyes hold the same light in them, too full of love, her older and refined spirit lays beneath them and she has become someone you have even more love for. It’s too damning. Abigail Anderson has always been more than you can handle, always outshining everyone in this small town even if she couldn’t see it for herself. 

“I’m surprised you came back for them, you know, after everything.” 

It’s not just them. 

“They say she doesn’t have a lot of time, so—” You sigh heavily into your palms, “And that’s not your problem, but thank you for being so cool about everything. Maybe we can be friends?” 

“Yeah, maybe.” Abby knows neither of you can’t. It’s never worked out that way. It’s all or nothing and she’s always been the all-in type of girl. She loves big, not caring if her own heart gets trampled in the process. 

Her love blinds like the sun, but it settles over your heart like the moonlight kissing the waves — you just hope the tide is strong enough to bring you home.

❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ❞

The first few weeks back at home felt like a breath of fresh air. As much as you disdained being home, the cracks of your family nearly breaking you in the process, you had her. 

Even if you didn’t really have her. 

The definite silence was not so, Abby still soaked in her warm heart, the one you hoped she kept. The best part of her. She’s too kind, even when you don’t deserve it, she still freely gives it. 

It bleeds into her work. 

Clearly, your father was more than fond of her. Several occasions they would be chumming it up, your father even grilling a few patty hamburgers up for them both when the clock struck noon. They always did love her, possibly even more than you, but to say they were devastated about the break would be a tragic understatement. 

Get her back. 

She’s a prize in this town. 

Abigail Anderson is the best you can do, you’re not doing better than Dr. Anderson’s daughter. 

But you never did try. You trusted the universe as a sign given. The people driving you out of this town sided with the woman you had broken up with, so you left and didn’t look back twice. 

Yet, she did, in more ways than you were even aware of. 

Because of her stupidly built physique, you couldn’t stop looking. 

Anchored into the heat, her muscles constrict as she helps the crew demo the tile of the master suite, the last touch of the renovation needs. Besides the final paint job in the guest house, Abby had finished it all. In all honesty, Abby was hoping all of it would be complete by the time you arrived back in town. Being around you on a daily basis, her friends telling her it’s only a matter of time before she’s back in your arms, it feels like a slap in the face. 

As if she has no self restraint. 

To be fair, she doesn’t. 

Abby’s gone to lunch with you three times, had coffee with you once, and she exhibits her obsessive memory — still having your order memorized — even if it's the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard of. She still finds herself stuck between your teeth like cotton candy. 

It’s all friendly, supposedly, but it’s the easiest thing to slip back. 

Old habits do die hard. 

Right now, you’re just watching her work. 

You’ve been doing it a lot lately. 

Out of habit, nervousness, maybe it’s the anxiety flooding through your bloodstream. All of this feels erasable. Too much thrown at you, with her, it always happens to be too irreplaceable. 

The ghost you’ve been running from, the one that hides in the shadow, even if you’ve tried to stay on the path you’ve created. Dug from the ashes of all your failures, she’s the one thing you haven’t made right. The nights where you got too drunk, nearly texting her or calling her, the picture you still curated in a specific folder, the one you would look for when you’re the weakest. 

Being back in your hometown, the first person who ever truly loved you, it feels suffocating. 

It doesn’t help that she looks so good. Or that she’s even kinder. The love in her eyes is even more whole-hearted than they were ten years ago. Part of you tells yourself you couldn’t even help yourself if you tried. This is just how it’s supposed to be. The heartbreaker pining for the woman’s heart you shattered into pieces. 

All it took, a few cups of coffee and Abby taking you to lunch and paying — it feels awfully like a date but you keep your mouth shut. Her being present in your life is already confusing enough; the added weight would just be unbearable. 

But after today, you won’t see her again. Painting the final room in the guest house is the last duty she has to fulfill and the renovation is done on your parent’s property. The ache in the pit of your stomach is unsettling as you attempt to simmer through and wonder why the pain becomes so deep. As if the woman in front of you was scorning you alive. 

“You need something or are you gonna stare at me all day?” 

You watch Abby throw the paint roller back in the tray, running the brush in the sage green, before turning the attention back to the wall, waiting for you to respond. 

“No, I wasn’t staring.” Abby chuckles at that. 

Chuckles. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

If you could see her pouty lips, you’re sure that they’d be pulled into a smirk. Lately, she’s been enjoying this too much. Catching you staring at her for too long, biting the precious bottom lip of yours as she’s putting her muscles to work or when you caught her peeling the sweaty tank of her body for a new one, every inch of her skin glowing in the wake of the blistering sun. 

Her abdomen, toned with a not so subtle four pack, her v-line defined as it disappears into her jeans. It’s sickening. Really. It is. She catches your self control slipping through the cracks, dignity along with it as you give in to her adonis-like physique. 

The shock going through your body, going completely still as Abby just chuckles, winking at you before she goes about her day. Like it was nothing, like this is a normal occurrence for her. You’re not sure what thought made you feel even more sick. 

Women fawning over her or what happened after. 

But you didn’t have a right, you know you didn’t. 

You swallowed the unflattering buzz of sweeping jealousy until you couldn’t feel in anymore. It’s not an emotion you even deserve to feel. While the two of you had been getting closer the longer you spent with each other, you knew your boundaries well enough to know you still weren’t there, you never would be. 

The ghosts from your past made damn sure of it. 

“I can pose for you if you’re going to keep looking.” 

“I wasn’t—” 

Abby wipes the mixture of sweat, oils, and paint on the pair of old blue-denim. She lets her blonde hair out of the bun she wore, despite the icy temperature, her body runs warm. 

“It’s okay to admit it.” 

“Admit what?” Suddenly you become defensive, arms crossing over your chest. 

“That you’re still attracted to me.” Abby takes your curves in and nearly blows a low whistle, “You’re awful at hiding it.” 

“I-I’m not, this isn’t….you’re not, like, easy to look at, you know? Uh, ummm….” 

Standing there like an idiot as you struggle to get the words out, nearly impossible to get them released, your mouth staggering, unable to even keep them shut as Abby stalks you, your body pressed against the kitchen counter, the new one she installed days ago. 

Nothing comes out on the way you intend it to. Fuck. Did you offend her? 

“I’m not?” 

She whispers into your ear, her lips ghosting your skin. A free hand plays with the buckle of your belt before she pulls you closer by the fastened leather. It’s soft to the touch, making her want to sink her teeth into you, until her canines break the surface of your skin, claiming you as hers once again. 

Abby thinks about removing it off you, bending you over the counter and punishing you for it or even fastening the belt around your neck, pulling you along until you’re right where she pleases. The craving in the pit of her belly only stirs into an unmanageable peace the longer you stand there — squirming with satisfaction — waiting to be put out of your misery. 

Golden locks tickle your jaw, the static energy radiating off of her shocks your skin, goosebumps come alive on every inch of you as she makes her presence known. One fact you haven’t been able to shake, Abby Anderson is a force to be reckoned with. Ten years, ten full years, and your life means nothing now that she’s right in front of you. 

“Abigail, I don’t really think this is a good idea.” Abby waits for you to push her away, but instead you place your hands around her forearms but she’s so big, and it’s intoxicating that she stands taller than you. Her biceps the size of your head, veins protruding as she flexes, as if it didn’t make matters worse. 

“Then why don’t you just admit it?” Abby presses her pelvis even closer to yours and you wonder if you’re hallucinating the barely-there kiss to below your ear. “You want me just as much as you did back then. Ten years apart won’t change that. You still care about me, even though you wish you didn’t, you do.” 

“Abigail, we can’t go there, we both are—” 

“What? I’ve always been a patient girl. I can wait.” Loudly, you groan as she peppers kisses down your neck, before scratching at her skin, when she kisses the one spot behind your ear she certainly didn’t forget about. 

Abby digs her teeth in as you hiss, she enjoys the thrill of your soft whimpers, she’s barely started and you’re giving her just what she needs. The two of you know it, there isn’t a fix for this, the thread of a craving pulls until it’s fed. 

“Oh–” 

Rough hands hoist you on the counter top as she slots herself between your thighs, her frame protecting you as if you were a wild animal trying to be saved from extinction. The greed in Abby’s palm finds salvation when she touches exposed skin, silk to the touch — it doesn’t feel quite as sinful as she’s been told. 

She should hate you, right? 

You hurt her, didn’t look back twice, and you’ve never been the same. 

All of this is just a facade. The life you have, the future you always dreamed of building is thousands of miles from here and she just doesn’t fit within it anymore, everyone tells her she never did. A missing puzzle piece with a jagged edge, the more Abby tries to fit with your world, the further she pushes away. 

But she held onto the hope that your world no longer fit you and maybe — like a fool who believes in their first dream — she could be your world again. 

Sparkling, honey-blues dazzle their way into your heart once again, reminding you of everything you love, striking a reminder through your soul of just what you had hurt. The life you stole, the one you wanted to so desperately have but fear still swarms you. The memory doesn’t feel so distant, the past isn’t the past but lies as a reminder of the blood still staining your hands. 

With hesitance, you hold her full-freckled cheeks in your palms with a delicate hand, fearful any touch from you would burn her in the process. 

“Do you think this is a good idea?” You bite into the isolating air, threatening to swarm your soul but she finds you first. Abby’s warm breath feeds into the need blossoming like a seed rooted in soil, solidifying the growth of budding salvation. 

“I don’t know. Do you?” 

She’s so sweet on you, even as the trickle of poison burns her, Abby would gladly let it absorb every inch of her skin if it meant this. The wondrous arrival of a love once lost, her heart torn right down the middle. Unsure if giving into reason or a festered dream. 

It all grabs a hold of her the same, unwillingly to release her from the pure agony she feels when you’re not around. More dramatic than she intended it to be, the dagger once pushed through her heart, exerting every drop of blood until she felt unsatisfied iron saturating her tongue. 

She would even show gratitude if you let her. 

“Everything I think I know changes when you’re involved, so no, I don’t.” 

Leaning into your touch, Abby swears into the palm of your hand, her hands smooth over the fabric of your pants and your entire skin leaves a trail of fire anywhere her large, calloused hand scorns you. The weight of her love feels heavy, as it always has, but the temptation to carry every ounce of it is heavier than it’s been in years. 

With a terror in your chest, you blurt out the first thought entering you mind.  “You’ve aged really well, can barely tell you’re hitting thirty.” 

“Oh yeah? I can think of a few ways to show you.” 

Shit. 

A rapid heartbeat ready to burst, you’re not sure if it’s you or her. She’s inching closer, lips ghosting yours, her minty-ice breath makes home over yours. With a slight graze, you inhale a sharp breath, read for her to lean into you. 

Slam! 

“Am I interrupting something?” Immediately, you push Abby off of you, a judging pair of eyes scanning the two of you. 

The woman from the party looked like she could actually kill you with her bare hands. Then there’s Ellie sitting there grinning like the joker, one giggle away from sounding like the maniac himself. As if she was fully aware this would happen. The two of you are running off of pure animal instinct, unable to keep your hands off one another. 

“Abby? What’s going on?��� The snip in the woman’s voice is evident, so is the possession she so clearly feels over your ex-girlfriend. The jealousy you feel over the thought sends an unwanted shiver up your spine. 

Then she’s looking at you, expecting you to disintegrate into nothing right in front of her. Like you had done something terribly wrong. 

Didn’t Abby say she’s single? 

“Chill out, Hazel.” Ellie rolls her eyes, smirking at the steam practically boiling out of Hazel’s ears. “Ready for that drink? Dina and Jesse are already waiting.” 

“Uh—” She looks back at you, avoiding eye contact with everyone. “Yeah, can you just give me a sec?” 

“But I really think we should—” 

“Down Hazel, god, you’re worse than a dog. They clearly were about to suck each other’s faces off. Move it.” 

Hazel clearly looks offended as she desperately looks at Abby, hoping for her to save a little bit of dignity but Abby just punches the bridge of her nose as Ellie escorts out an extremely frigid Hazel. 

Abby doesn’t miss the way the woman who has far too big of a crush on her tries to shoot daggers into you but you’re too busy focused on plucking your overgrown cuticles. 

As soon as the door shuts you bend over the counter, forehead pressed into the white marble of the island, settling for a frustrated groan even when you want to scream. 

“That bad, huh?” Abby stands behind you, watching as you lose it in front of her. 

“Your friends already hate me, was that really fucking needed?” 

There’s an itching, envious need to ask why Hazel seems to be protective over Abby, borderlining on obsession, but you keep your mouth tight lipped. Even if it’s the first thing ready to roll off your tongue. 

“They’re fine, Hazel is just—” 

“Protective.” You avoid her as she smirks, clearly enjoying the clear look of jealousy in your beautifully bright eyes. 

“Oh?” Abby is grinning, pearly whites shining as majestic as the moon. “I didn’t think you’d even feel like that about me.” 

As if it's instinct, she can’t stop how much she’s loving this. One moment of her lips on your skin and suddenly you want her all to yourself. Your head is spinning and her stupid, blue eyes won’t stop looking at you like a divine treasure. 

“I-I don’t know what to say.” 

You never did well with things out of your control, never really could. It’s why all of it ended the way it did. If you couldn’t somehow manipulate into what you wanted, it faded until you couldn’t hear it any longer. Abby faded into the noise, into your past, but maybe she is the noise and for the first time in ten years you can finally hear. 

“You don’t have to say anything but you can come with me.” 

“With your friends?” Abby nods. 

“All of your friends hate me and one looks like she might actually kill me. Why on earth would you think that’s a good idea?” 

“All of them are adults. They’ll handle just fine besides,  I want you there.” As soon as Abby says those words, your harsh seamer softens, rejection melts and dissipates from your vocabulary. She’s always been a difficult person to say no to. “You could use some social interaction, you don’t even leave this guest house.” 

“How did you know that?” 

“I have eyes?” Abby states it as more of a question, a giggle threatening to bubble out. 

“Oh god.” Abby laughs as she takes off her tool belt before finding her jacket and slipping it on her body. Grabbing her keys on the counter, looping the carabiner on the loop of her weathered denim. 

“Ready?”  

There’s a look of uncertainty in your eyes, nearly bleeding into an unwillingness to bend, but her words reassure you before you even get a chance to explain. As if she settled in your heart ten years ago and never left. 

“Don’t worry, okay? If anyone’s mean to you, I’ll set them straight, Cherry.” 

The nickname falls off her tongue, the sentiment hits you like a tsunami of emotion, bringing you back to every loving emotion she exposed to you for the first time. 

It shouldn’t cut you this deep but it will — she always will. 

❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞 ❞

March 26th, 2013 

“C’mon dance with me!” Abby screams over the loud music of the party. Fluorescent lights, a disco ball and tequila raged through her body, the alcohol pumping through her veins as she finally mustered the liquid courage to talk with the girl she’s been crushing on all sophomore year. 

Her friends had been teasing her all night about it, but when the girl looked at her in disgust, shoulder checking her into oblivion, she couldn't help but take it to heart. Her blue eyes swell with tears, a waterfall raging within her as she makes her way to the bathroom, puking out her dinner at her father’s house. 

So much for prom night, right? 

Making a beeline for the bathroom, with yet another rejection to check off the list, stupid fucking after party she lied to her dad about going to. It’s all so stupid, of course Lacey wouldn’t be into someone like her. No one likes her, no one ever will, she’s just the lame screw up in this town who can’t like boys, not when the rest of the girls in the wretched town do. 

Even if her dad tells her, it’s what makes her special — it’s a bunch of horse shit. 

So, in the home of the girl she confessed her undying love for, she pukes her guts out in the bathroom until there’s a knock at the door and a soft yet concerned shout that follows. “Hey, are you okay? Sounds a little rough in there!” 

“Shit,  yeah, just one second…” Abby collects herself taking off her jacket as she rolls up the sleeves, residue of what she chucked up on the cuff of her shirt. Quickly, she rinses off and roles the sleeves up. 

Well, it didn’t get any more embarrassing than this. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? I can get someone it’s really not a pro—” 

Without a further beat, the door is swung open. Abby suspects to see someone she knows, but she doesn’t. It’s a fresh face and she’s never been more grateful. The eyeliner she thought Lacey would like was probably smudged all over her face, Abby had no doubt she probably resembled someone operating an oil rig of some kind. 

Just as Abby tries to talk, she feels another round come up and she runs to the toilet, sinking to her knees as more bile comes out. Way to go Anderson, you’ve managed to utterly humiliate yourself in front of two beautiful women tonight. Truly, there should be some type of an award for being the dumbest idiot on the planet. 

Somehow, she knows all of this will come back to bite her in the ass. There’s no way that she isn't the complete laughing stock of the high school until she walks across the stage in two years with a diploma on hand. Whoever you are, you’re sure you’ll tell the entire town. 

A stupid pathetic lesbian who can’t have one good night to save her life. 

One of the most important nights of her life. 

But she doesn’t hear a mockery laugh, a snide comment…she isn't even met with pure disgust. The third and fatal option. There’s a comforting hand on her back, reassuring her everything will be just fine, the other holding her hair into  a makeshift ponytail, ensuring there isn't a single strand getting tied into the mess of her sickness. 

By the time Abby’s done, she feels even more humiliated, her body running hot, cheeks aflame but you’re already running warm water underneath the towel folded on the shelf above the toilet. Kneeling down again, you angle her by the jaw, wiping the residue off her lips and you carefully wash away the black eyeliner smeared all over her freckled-cheeks. 

For a second, Abby notices you staring at her pouty lips but she doesn’t say a word about it. 

Turned out so wonderful the first time…

“Here!” You pull from your pocket, a pack of red labeled gun, cherry flavored, and pull out one piece wrapped in paper-tin foil. “For your, you know, breath.” 

“Is this your nice way of telling me I have bad breath?” Abby teases, one moment with a pretty stranger, and she already felt more like herself. Abby takes a piece of gum, unraveling the piece before shoving the strip into her mouth. 

“Well, you did puke.” 

Regretfully she chews as the taste turns sweet instead of mint, her face contorts in rejection but still she chews. It’s not exactly what she had in mind. 

“You don’t like Cherry flavored? That’s just bad taste!” You grab a piece of gum for yourself, throwing the piece of paper in the trash, consuming it wholeheartedly, almost moaning as you put on a show. 

“Whatever you say, Cherry.” The sun might as well be shining on you from just how warm you feel. Heat rising in your heart, blossoming through your chest, thriving from the attention of the sun, 

“Hey! That’s not fair. I don’t know your name.” 

“Well, I don’t know yours either…” Abby hints, tilting her head to the side with a smirk the size of Texas. For once, she finds this easy, talking to a pretty girl, flirting with a pretty girl — proving it didn’t always have to be so hard to have something this good. 

“Call me Cherry, it’s better than my real one, trust me.” You smile sweetly, fully willing to rot each tooth if it means you could feel like this. “What’s yours?” 

“Abigail.” 

The two of you just stare at each other like idiots, two losers, two outcasts and all of it started to make sense. Every heartache dealt out by careless handlers of the heart, each person who made you feel small, unworthy, who knew all of it could be healed by looking into the brightest pair of blue eyes, the warmest, full of honey and marvelous wonder. 

It feels wonderful, being this close to a feeling, a lover's dream in the sunshine of spring, kissing shoulders never exposed to the brightful joy, freckles sprouting like bees flees to honey. One more kiss of sunshine until the sweetness falls on your tongue, guiding you to the spirit of love and everything you ever lost. 

One person, one perfect person who makes your youth scream of joy again. Jumping off a cliff, plummeting into the cool ocean without second thought, hoping they’ll be there to jump off it with you. Even if it takes a lifetime of waiting — you’d wait your entire life for her. 

As long as she’s in the sun, freckles being painted by pure light, you’d soak in the sun right along with her. 

“Thank you.” She squeaks out the words so small, you nearly miss it. 

“There’s no need for thanking. Just doing the right thing s’all.” Your smile is so sweet, Abby nearly feels every part of her body rotting with sugar. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“There was just this girl and I really thought she liked me but she really didn’t and I have this thing where I get a lot of anxiety or nervous I kind of just puke. It’s totally lame, god, I can’t wait to get out of this place.” 

“Me too. High school sucks.” You agree with her, offering a small smile as you finish cleaning her up. “But she’s totally lame for not seeing how great you are.” 

Abby tries not to blush, but she can’t hit the crimson swell painting the apples of her cheeks and the tips of her ears. “Did you try to kiss her or something?” 

“I didn’t really get that far, she wouldn’t even dance with me. Not here, not prom, guess I’m not cool enough for her.” Pushing the metal frame of her glasses up her nose, trying to stop herself from biting into her blunt nails, nearly drawing blood. Now that she’s come down from her puking fest, she sees how beautiful you are. The kind of beauty that would bring her to her knees if Abby wasn’t already there. 

“Cool is overrated. Who cares about being cool? We’re all losers trying to figure it out.” You say it as if it’s the most obvious statement in the world, as if you’re confident in exactly who you want to be. Abby is envious of it. She wonders what it’s like to be so free — to not wonder what everyone is constantly thinking about you — if you’re good enough. 

You don’t seem to care. 

“If you still wanna dance, I’d dance with you. We can be losers together.” You offer up to her as you stand to your feet, offering a hand up to her and she takes it willingly. You grab the jacket to her suit, helping her slip into it and she smoothes the jacket over her frame. 

“You really don’t have to—” But you look at her with the most absurd gaze of refusal, eyebrows furrowed as it makes this cute little line between them.  Abby can’t help but admire it. 

“Oh, we’re going to fucking dance and show whoever this bitch is just what she’s missing.” 

Present day. 

There’s a lot to be said for how you let yourself succumb to her again, it didn’t take much, just a batting of blonde eyelashes and irresistible pouty lips and you’d fallen victim to Abigail Anderson. The hardest thing you’ve ever done was leave her. All these years later, you’re right back to where you were before all of this had started. 

It seems to shock all of her friends when the two of you walk on together and even more shocking when Abby throws her arm behind you, engaging in conversation here and there. Mostly, you tune out the conversation and mindlessly sip on the beer in front of you. 

Hazel isn’t happy about the predicament, cold brown eyes sport a simmering guidance of rage as she watches Abby’s fingers on your shoulder tracing random patterns into your skin. The arrival of your presence in turn makes her take jabs at you all night. Even with your silence, it doesn’t stop her, and when you have no visceral reaction she finally goes for something that brings silence around the entire table. 

“Why are you even here? Breaking Abby’s heart wasn’t enough the first time? Why don’t you run back to your sick mother and stop playing with people just because it’s fun for you.” Hazel bites and you feel the swarm of your tears begin to build and she keeps going, “Isn’t that why you came back? Not because you actually care but because your mom is going to die.” 

“Sorry, excuse me—” Hazel scoffs as you slither away and head towards the bathroom. As if she’s accomplished, she sips on her margarita, like what she just did was a service to everyone here. 

Ellie and Dina sit there in shock, trying to process what the fuck had just happened. Jesse sits there silently, discomfort written all over his face. But Abby? She’s filled with a soaring hot rage, face flushed violet as her knuckles turn white. Hazel immediately shrinks into the booth, unprepared for what’s about to happen. 

She thought Abby would be happy, kicking someone who so wrongly hurt her to the curb. You didn’t deserve her. You never would. Hazel deserves you. She’s been here, waiting for Abby to see her and love her, not you. 

“What the fuck is your problem? Cherry wasn’t even doing a goddamn thing and you’ve been attacking them all damn night.” Abby’s rage is palpable, steaming to the touch, and nothing like any of them have ever seen. 

“I did this for you! She treated you horribly! She broke your heart! She deserves it.” 

Abby pinches the bridge of her nose, tossing her head against the wall, “This has got to fucking stop. Cherry broke up with me goddamn ten years ago and it’s none of your business.” Hazel could practically see the steam rolling off her before Abby raised her voice even more, “You didn’t have a right to bring up her mom regardless of whatever happened. Jesus, if I want to be around her or want Cherry around, everyone here is just going to have to fucking deal.” 

“Abby, we’re just trying to look out for you. Cherry only ever thinks about herself.” 

“Well fucking don’t. I can handle myself despite whatever you think I can deal with. Stay the fuck away from her or you’ll live to regret it.” 

Throwing a twenty on the table to cover her tab, she finds you washing your face, trying to get rid of the puffiness in your eyes. When you see her, you turn her away, a lame attempt to stop her from seeing you like this. 

Weak. Overbearing. A winded rush pressing on your lungs, struggling to breathe — you didn’t need any of this. Not to be back right where it all destroyed you. Then here she is, the living reminder of your transgressions, your failure, the one thing you couldn’t fix. 

All roads lead to her. All of it is sick and twisted. The look of love pierces through your soul, scouring through the place you keep hidden under lock and key; the part that still loves her. 

It demands attention. To be heard. To be seen. To violate you and your dreams, to place her before everything else. A violent reminder of how all of this started. Before you could catch up with the tide, everything flips, your entire life becomes a reflection of what you feared. 

Abby has her life together and yours is coming apart. 

Everyone hates you for what you become. For how little you cared about leaving the first twenty years of your life behind, a chapter closed and discarded as if it never existed to you in the first place. 

“Let me take you home, alright? I’m sorry for Hazel she’s—” 

“It’s fine.” You cut her off, drying your eyes, or trying to but you can’t stop crying in the first place. “It was stupid of me to agree to this.” 

“You aren’t stupid, sorry, she was being a cunt. It won’t happen again. I won’t let it happen.” 

Abby carefully wipes your tears away, “Hey, let’s get out of here. Yeah? My place is just up the street. Just the two of us.” 

You nod as Abby leads you out, her palm feels welcoming in your grip, a homecoming you have been dying to feel. Her touch feels warm, perfect as her fingers interlock with your own. Like no time has passed, it’s easy for you to slip back into her grasp. 

Everything about her feels right. When she helps you get in her truck, the old one her father always wanted to renovate and it seems she did just that. The ride is only a couple minutes before she’s parking in the garage of her home. She opens the door for you, a hand on your back as she leads you towards the door leading into her house. 

What you expect to be a farmhouse, a hint of southern barn meets boho chic, but you’re met with something else entirely. 

It’s exactly what she talked about building growing up. Everything else feels modern except the cherry red kitchen with white accents and marble countertops. There’s cherries everywhere, but it’s subtle enough to the naked eye, you wouldn’t blink twice.

The memory comes back to you in a hot flash, one you weren’t fond of. 

“We can have it all. I’ll buy you a damn house, I’ll give you whatever you want, whatever you need, I want this, Cherry. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. I love you, please, can’t you see a future with both of us?” 

“But I don’t want to be here. You know that! My dad can hardly look at me because I’m with a woman, my mom tries but she doesn’t understand. Is this the kind of life you want? They remind me that I’m not good enough. Who I love isn’t good enough, not if I’m not with a man. Can you understand I’m dying to get out of this nothin’ town?” 

Abby gnaws at her bottom lip, teeth drawing blood as she sees you drawing within yourself. Pulling back at the first sign of hardship. Even Abby wonders if she’s worth fighting for. 

“You mean dying to get away from me? I’m in this nothin’ town you despise so much.” 

“Abigail, you’re taking words out of my mouth, that’s not what I’m saying.” 

“You just want to leave and I don’t.” You look at her, her adorable pout in a frown, arms she’s been bulking for the past couple years begin to show definition. The freckles she hates grew more prominent on her skin as she spent the summer working for father’s construction company. 

Her life is here, her future is here, but for once since the two of you met, your own two different paths and no matter how much you love her — it just won’t work. 

“We’re eighteen! Our entire lives are in front of us. I can’t stay here, Abigail. I just can’t. I dream of a big city, somewhere my stories will take me places, a life that I can’t find here.” 

“You got the scholarship, didn’t you?” Abby barks, her chest puffing out, jaw clenching as she pleads for you to tell her the truth. “Tell me the truth. You’ve been lying to me, hoping I’d change my mind?” 

“I wasn’t lying. I just—” 

“What? You were just going to leave one morning and never come back? Like I mean nothing to you?” Abby removes her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Like the past two years have just been what? A way for you to pass time until your real life comes along. Fucking great.” 

“I told you from the start, I want more. I need to do more! No one gets into NYU around here and certainly not on a scholarship. I have a chance for a real future, a way out from my parents, a new life, I’ve always wanted this. You know I have.” 

“And I’ve always wanted you.” 

Silence engulfs the room, a pindrop could be heard, the tension could be cut with a knife but Abby sees the wall closing around you. Covering her from the heart you slowly opened up to her, what she fought tooth and nail for. She always fought for you but it’s hard to do anything when you don’t believe this is worth saving. 

“You don’t even have the decency to ask me.” 

“What?” 

“You just want to write me off. You lump me with everyone else because you don’t even give me the chance.” 

“What are you saying?” 

Abby’s blue eyes turn into ice, all the warmth void as the chill sends a shiver down your spine. Her throat feels tight, like even if she swallows her own spit she’ll choke. 

“Do you love me enough to make this work?” Abby flinches when you don’t immediately answer, because she knows where she stands, she would follow you across the world if it meant that’s what you wanted. To make you happy. But she can’t help but feel like she’s splitting herself apart for someone who doesn’t care in the way she does. 

With tears in your eyes, they cascade down your cheek before whispering to her, “I don’t.” 

“Get. Out.” She murmurs through clenched teeth, using the sleeve of her t-shirt, one you gifted her, to wipe away the tears that wouldn’t stop coming. The overflow of the heartache racked through her body like she’s never felt before. 

You don’t love her. You don’t love her. You never loved her. 

“Abs, please, don’t make me leave like this. Can we talk about this?” 

“What’s there to fucking talk about? We don’t love me, Cherry. What else is there to fucking say?” 

You nearly scream, not sure why anything you’re saying isn’t coming out the way you intended it to. “You’re not listening to me I—” 

“Right. You just need to find a man, right? God, you’re just like Lacey.” 

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” You bite, and if looks could kill, Abby would be dead right now. She’s struck a nerve, the memory of sophomore year comes flooding back to her, back when all of this started. “God, fuck you. How could you possible compare me to the straight girl that pulled you along because what she really wanted was Daniel Collins to fuck her so stupid she ended up pregnant junior year.” 

“You’re leaving, when your back is pressed up against a wall, you’ll always leave, Cherry.” 

“But I—” You stop yourself before you could speak the forbidden words, the ones you’ve said to her a million times, the one you just refuted that you did even if she can usually call you right on your bullshit. But you’ve diluted her sense of reasoning and all she hears is her girlfriend of two years just told her she doesn't love her. 

“You what? What other lies are you going to tell me?” 

“Fine.” Your expression turns stone cold, “Let’s both be done with it then. There’s nothing left to fight for.”  

Prideful ego gets in the way of what Abby wants and she finally lets her head speak for her, “Sounds good to me.” 

“Are you alright?” Abby asks but then she notices you’re just staring at her kitchen and she’s never been so self-conscious in her life. She didn’t even think about it, she’s so used to others seeing it but it’s different when your muse is taking in the craft you created with them in mind. 

“Oh, right, the cherries.” She stutters out, scratching the back of her neck as she turns the lights on. It smells of vanilla and something oak, just like she smelled in high school. To others it may seem boring but it’s refreshing to know she’s still the same as she was. 

“You still did it?” 

“Yeah, it’s kinda lame honestly, maybe I should have done something else but nothing ever fit right with the rest of the house so.” Abby pops open a beer, somehow needing to have some type of liquor while you gawk at the work she created with you in mind. “If I’m being honest, I think it was just a way for me to hold onto you. I sure didn’t think I would ever see you again.” 

“Me neither.” You answered truthfully, the loss of Abby rattled you, even though you were better at hiding it. Losing her is still the most painful loss you had to endure, which she considers fortunate, but not fortunate enough. “I always thought about what would have happened if I hadn’t been so headstrong. I think I had to convince myself in order to leave, I would have stayed here for you if not.” 

“I find that hard to believe.” Even if she pretends not to be, Abby’s still bitter. 

“Why?” 

“You always knew what you wanted out of life and that wasn’t me.” Abby chews on her bottom lip again, picking the label of the beer before taking another swig. “Hell, you left before I even got a chance to say goodbye.” 

“What?” Eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you take a step forward, “Did you come to the house?” 

“Of course I did. I wasn’t going to leave things like that. Did you not—” 

“No, I didn’t know, I thought that was it. I didn’t expect there to be more for my sake.” 

The way she looks at you feels like she’s peering into her soul, the way she sees you so clearly, better than anyone ever has, chilling you to your core. Bits and pieces of your love located in eyes that glimmer only for her, light electrified the moment your sights are set on her. 

It feels like falling in love with a broken melody. 

You admire the imperfections instead of leaving at the bridge. 

“I waited on your porch for hours but then your parents came home, saying they just had gotten back from dropping you off.” 

In a matter of moments, your entire world feels flipped, like everything you had known for the last ten years, a terrible lie you wished to never know. A nightmare you would hope to wake up from. That’s all this was, you would wake up in her father’s home as you fought in the kitchen, you convince yourself not to let go of the best thing that’s ever happened to you. 

“You came back for me?” 

Closing the space between the two of you, grabbing her beer and placing it on the countertop. Abby takes an intake of breath as you invade every part of her personal space. As corny as it sounds, you do smell of cherries. So sweet, her bones feel weak with need, as if she doesn’t inhale the sugar she’ll just crumble at your feet, begging for just one drop. 

“Yeah, I cried in front of your dad who hated me at the time, might I add. After that, he was kind, I think because he saw how much I…you know…” 

You remember how much he changed when you came home for the holidays three years later. Naturally, you always accepted he had just come around over time, but it wasn’t that at all — the weeps of your high school girlfriend convinced him. 

“Guess he saw how much I loved you or something…I don’t know…” She shrugs like it’s nothing. 

Like she's nothing; the careless lie you let her believe. 

Even with her dominating physical presence, she’s always been shy about this sort of thing. Expressing her feelings never really came easy, even if she wore them with her heart on her sleeve, admitting them was different than feeling them. 

“You changed his mind.” 

“He would have gotten there eventually. I’m sure he liked whoever you dated after me.” 

“Hm.” You grimly laugh, “He didn’t. Not the two I brought home but he always spoke fondly of you, he definitely likes you better then he enjoys his own kid.” 

Patient she is watching you process the information, it’s almost too much for her to swallow. What if you had been home when she was going to say goodbye? Would this be your home with her? The dreams of kissing her in the kitchen, cherry inspired, the family home she always wanted to build for the two of you. Now she’s here with no one but herself. Withering away the soul of a woman who only wanted love. 

“He loves you and if he doesn’t, that’s his loss. Trust me, I know it too well.” 

The confession hangs on the walls like a memorial, taking a trip down memory lane, or more like the hell of your own making. Demons you conjured cast over your past as if they only exist in hollow halls. The deeper you go, the more your heart slivers in the cracks of her delicate grip. For the first time, you don’t mind when she presses on your heartbeat — demanding more with just looking at you the way she does. 

The way she always has. 

“Do you still love me?” 

“Are you going to run away if I tell you?” 

Lips ghost over you, her breath hits your face, making it flush with heat. She leans against the counter, wrapping your back with one of her arms, tugging you close to her. 

“Abby, I’m a mess.” 

“I know.” 

“I don’t know what my family is going to look like or my future.” 

“I know.” 

“Abigail, would you stop saying that?” 

“I’ve only ever cared about you, I don’t care if your life is together. I’m here and I—” She dips her head to kiss down your neck, decorating your collarbones with her lips as she creates a map back to where she wants to the most, “will take care of you.” 

Abby kisses you like the air in her lungs is expendable, as she has endless amounts to give. That’s all she is love, pouring into every ounce of you that she can find. With desperate abandon, she wants to wipe your memory of every wrong she ever did you — she only wants to remind you of the reason why she loves you. Maybe it’ll be enough for you to wake up in her arms again. 

For once, she might be enough. 

“We don’t have to do this, I don’t know what it all means and—” 

“Right now? I don’t fucking care.” Abby leeches off your neck, kissing and delicately sucking, grazing her sharp teeth against sensitive skin. “I just want you.” 

Thoughtless abandon goes out the window as she guides you back into her apartment, off the spacious balcony and corners you into her room. Letting you fall on her bed as she stands above you, as she strips in front of you. Making a show of it, torturing you for sport, before she goes in for the kill. 

The alcohol still alive in your mind as she pulls off, a freckled maze maps its way all over her body. The subtle blonde happy trails travels underneath her navel and disappears beneath the fabric of her denim jeans. Your own self-control begins to slip, but Abby is too concerned with evening out the playing field. Even if this is a long-lasting goodbye, she’s going to make it last. 

Slipping your trousers down your legs, she’s met with cotton boxers — soaked all the way through. 

“Is that all for me?” Abby snaps the waistband against your skin as you squirm underneath your touch, bucking your hips into the air. Impossibly desperate for her touch. 

“Y-Yes, It’s for—” Irrevocably your eyes roll back into your skull, “Abigail, oh shit, shit, shitttt.”  

Sneaking a hand in your boxers, she opens up your inviting folds, slippery and as Abby glides along, collecting your slick with the calloused fingers. You squirm and shift, bucking into her hand, waiting for more to be given to you. 

“Just say my name like that pretty girl, so good for me, aren’t you?” Abby removes her hand as she pulls your boxers off your legs and without being asked she slides them down your legs as she pushes your shirt up to your tits, exposing the swell of your breasts to her possessive eyes, waiting to lay claim onto what she’s missed for the past ten years. 

“I wonder if you’re just as…” Abby takes a beat before rubbing over your hard nipple along her tongue, her denim-glad thigh grinding against your thigh as she suckles at your breasts. “Sensitive.” 

She moans into your skin, using her free hand to play with your pussy, soft strokes to your clit as she elicits more moans from you. The force of her strength and weight keeps you down, the stutter of your hips chasing her fingers. 

“My pretty baby, not so mean and bossy anymore, huh?” She bites your nipple gently before whispering in your ear, “Did you miss me that much?” 

“I just want more, please.” 

In any other circumstance, she happily would make you pay for it. Wait even, but if she doesn’t have you in her mouth for another second, she won’t survive. You’re so beautiful, you’re perfect in every conceivable way. The years had in fact been kind to you, different from what she knew when the two of you had sex but god, she thinks you’re even more exquisite now. 

“More?” Abby removes what remains of her clothing, leaving you to gawk at her muscled frame, small tits frame her chest perfectly. “How about you sit on my face, angel? How does that sound?” 

She’s already made you come twice, just on her tongue alone, pushing for a third as she holds you by the waist, waiting for your overstimulated body to give into her once more. 

Abby makes everyone look inadequate when it comes to her, no one could touch you like this, fuck you like this, slither their talent tongue inside your waiting hold as you take her out for a ride. Muffled moans against your dripping cunt sends shivers throughout your spine, body twitching as you feel yourself hurling closer to the edge. 

You can’t help but ride her face as your head lies on the bundle of curves covering her mound and you’ve been too fucked out the entire time to do anything but you can’t help but notice the way her patient cunt is shining with her slick. Curiosity blooms within you as you notice the slight thrust of her hips, chasing a part of you that isn’t there. 

With no sudden warning, you vigorously rub on her wet folds, applying pressure on her bundle of nerves as you spread her sweet juices along her puffed lips. 

“Baby, nghhh, oh my god.” Abby slurps as she sucks your clit into her mouth before you fall right over the edge again. Her eager tongue fucks your through it with her tongue, letting your ride the high as your nails scratch her stomach, marking her as yours once again. 

Abby helps your weak body slide down her legs, flipping you over as your pussy falls against her, her legs spread open as your head rests against her sternum, feeling the increased rate of her heart beat thump against her chest. 

She smooths her hand over your hair, gorgeous hypnotic eyes pull at Abby’s heart. “We should get some sleep.” 

“We can…unless you want to entertain a thought I’m having.” Abby raises her eyebrow as rotate your hips, clit bumping against hers as she throws her head back, a string of curses fall from her lips as she grips onto your hips. Happily, she lets you take control, pushing her strong leg over your shoulder as you glide against her soaked pussy. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, holy fucking shit—” 

Perfect tits bouncing as you rock your hips against her movement, the more you look in her eyes, you feel yourself yearning for another release. It’s never been this good, never with anyone. The moans she whispers, kept in the secret coven of your love, the spells she casts to keep you near — it trumps anything you’ve ever felt. 

“Keep looking at me, Abigail.” The whine of her full name, only ever falling from your lips, the most wonderful symphony. It’s intoxicating how much she loves it. How much she loves you. Deep in her bones, even if she tries her best to pull away, she knows not a damn thing will ever compare to this. For this life and the next, she’ll be searching for you in everyone she meets. 

She can’t live another moment with you. Not after ten years of agony, fuck no, she needs you like she needs oxygen to breathe. You’re not sure how long it takes, but you don’t forget how Abby looks at you with a tender heart that basically pours out of her. 

“Baby, please. N-N-gh, I need you.” You push her forward, hitting a deeper angle than you were before until you hear just how wet she is with your forehead pressed against hers, “Show me how my pretty girl comes, yeah? Need a reminder, princess.” 

Abby moans out your name, her body fucking up into you, slithering her convulsing cunt against your clit as her defined abdomen twitches and only relaxes when you follow her lead, you body collapsing on her. Two hearts beats become one as the two of you fall asleep, a quiet whisper of I love you, but you’re not sure if it falls from your lips or hers. 

The morning air breathes lilies and fresh espresso, her sweet cinnamon cologne lingers in her sheets, where she held you all night with her heavenly embrace. Reality sinks in and then you’re afraid once again. You slip one of her button up shirts on, pulling on a pair of her sweats before your feet are met with the cool wooden floors. 

She’s sitting there, those stupid glasses she apparently didn’t get rid of. Making her look stupid cute as she read the velvet-green covered book in her large palms. 

It’s easy for her to tell how you feel, Abby knows you too well as she watches you with cautious eyes. You’re so afraid of it all. Always, you’ve been afraid of what she makes you feel, how close she pushes you to the edge of no return. A love you feel helpless to, especially when it eats you from the inside out. 

“Do you wanna leave? I can take you home.” Abby doesn’t even look up from her book, she sounds annoyed, completely different than her vulnerable demeanor last night. It puzzles you when she closes herself off. 

“Am I missing something? Did I do something wrong?” 

Abby folds her book, marking the page on the sharp corner before she takes off her glasses. “You don’t owe me anything if that’s what you’re worried about. You felt like you didn’t before. You in all your city glory.” 

Something happened. 

“Abby, what’s going on?” 

“You tell me.” She places your phone on the table and it’s the email detailing of your new book tour in Europe. One that lasts the better part of the year. 

“You snooped through my phone?” 

“I didn’t mean to, I thought it was mine, okay? I would never do that.” Abby sighs, “I really didn’t mean to fucking look. I just, it’s happening all over again, I’m losing you over something. I’m never what you pick and I can’t ever be enough for you. Even Hazel was right! All you do is hurt me and it’s my fault because I let you. I can’t keep chasing you. It’s a stupid dream I’m too dumb enough to let go of.” 

“So, that’s it? Last night was just what? A mistake?” 

“I didn’t say that—” 

“But you did! Fuck, I should have known things wouldn’t change.” 

“You should have known? This is the same reason why you left me. I’ll lose you, again, to something I can’t compete with. The both of us know it to be true. At least have the decency to admit it.” 

“Do you want me to apologize? I did what I wanted! I have everything I wanted. This is everything I’ve worked towards for the best ten years—” 

“But you don’t—” Abby puffs out her chest, standing taller than she has since you’ve been back. The words spill just like you did the night before, “You didn’t get everything, you made sure of it the moment you left me behind.” 

Abby has backed you into a corner, stalking you like you’re her prey but this isn’t how she wants everything to be. Looking into your dreary eyes, she’s transported back to when you shattered her heart, splitting into pieces that no longer fit. The harder she tries to piece them back, the more jagged she becomes. 

“I don’t want this. I’ve let go of it.” 

I let go of you, sounds entirely too painful to say. 

“That’s your plan? To pretend none of this has happened?” Abby’s tongue prods the inside of her cheek, a cocky smirk flashes your way. “Look at how well it turned out the first time.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Your arms cross over your chest, attempting to create some distance between the two of you, but Abby only closes you in. 

“Why do you still wear it?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

Abby reaches for your hand, you untangle your limbs, the pad of her thumb loving running over the silky skin. Her calloused hand feels rough, just as it always has, but it also feels right. 

The silver ring on your pinky, the one you lost and the one your father had conveniently found. But it was never him who located your perfect gem, nope. Not at all. Just Abby’s biggest fan, besides Hazel. 

The reminder of her leaves a sour taste saturating your tongue, but you have no right. It's her friend, and just because you’re not fond of her, doesn’t mean a thing. You’re just a ghost still lingering in her life. Even if she answers there’s nothing, Hazel looks at her like you used to. When the same protectiveness switched into high gear last night, she only thought of how much you would do the exact same thing Hazel did if the roles were reversed. 

Just maybe, not as cruel. 

Abby takes the ring off your thumb, it shines in the dim lighting in the room.

“The day I fell in love with you, three months into our relationship, I gave it to you. Do you remember what I said?” 

Simply, you nod. 

“Wear this for as long as you love me and when you’ve taken it off, I’ll know we’re truly done.” Abby hums, your eyes shut as her thigh wedges between your legs but it only rests there. “But I hope you wear it forever.” 

“Then let go of me, give it back, throw it away, but stop acting like you might still feel the same. I’m tired of being played. You know how much this ring means to me. Don’t leave me, again.” 

It’s a cop out for what she really wants to say, the both of you know it is, but you have the decency to let it swarm past without making a single comment. 

She’s begging for mercy. She’s tired. The lines on her skin are an indication of the hours she spends in the sun and the time passing by, engaging you in a never-ending tsunami of Abigail Anderson’s love. 

“Abigail—” You say her name like it’s a curse, a spell you keep casting to make her fall deeper in your endless abyss. “Just because it seems like a good idea doesn’t mean it’ll work out. What makes this time any different?” 

You slid away from her, needing to breathe, you can’t think when she’s too close. Serendipity finds home into honey blues, working its magic until she finds purchase in your heart once again. You’d let her get too close, more than you should let her allow. 

Abby, the heart. 

You, the head. 

The dreamer. The thinker. Forever intertwined by the deadly kiss of fate. 

“But if it did? What if we did?” 

Abby doesn’t want to beg, but she is. She learned her lesson the first time. She said nothing all those years ago, letting you take the relationship the two of you had by the reigns, your cruelty being the fatal blow to what the two of you had worked so hard to build. Naivety crushed the future right in front of her — the one she regularly dreams of. 

Each what if connected like constellations in the sky, each one just as bright as the next, Abby can’t make of which she wants. But Abby has always known it to be true, this has always been it for her but you’re so afraid. 

Still petrified to be loved. 

“I can’t let myself go through it again, if we didn’t? I can’t just—” You begin pacing, trying to get yourself into a position to clear your mind. The hope she has, it could kill you in your sleep. “I fucked up, okay? Last night shouldn’t have happened. I needed something and I used you. Is that what you want to hear? Will that satisfy you enough?” 

“I want the goddamn fucking truth, Cherry. Stop with the lies. Tell me you want this to end because you don’t love me anymore, or that you want to go on this book tour, not because you fucked up. I don’t care if you fucked me because you needed your clit sucked for the night. Tell me the truth, Cherry, please.” 

“Stop calling me that.” 

Abby chuckles maliciously, “Why? You don’t like to remember when you were in love, the only time you ever were happy, the only time you ever let anyone get close to you?” 

She attempts to get closer to you but you dodge her and walk to the other side of the room. 

“You’re quite literally running away from me. Anything but facing the truth, right?” Abby sighs into her hands. The muscles in her body are exhausted, her heart is over spent, and her mind is filled with you. Even if she doesn’t want it to be. “Do you think I want this? To feel like this? To put my heart on the line when you clearly show that you’ll discard it every damn time? Do you think this is enjoyable for me?” 

“Then stop! I’m not asking you to, just let me leave, let me go.” 

“Let the ring go.” Somehow, in your heat of emotion, you grabbed it back from her and didn't realize it had been placed back on your thumb. “You know it was my mom’s, how could you so selfishly keep this?” 

“What?” 

Fuck. Abby runs her hands through her hair,  gripping so tightly her sunkissed knuckles turn white from nearly being pulled from the root. 

“But you said this was—” 

“I lied! I was eighteen and scared shitless, okay? I didn’t want you to—” 

“You didn't want me to….?” 

Abby sighs rubbing her hand over her face, a habit she seemed to pick up in your presence. “If I tell you, you’re just going to run.” 

You grimace, tearing up as you look at the ring, it means so much to her and all this time she was perfectly fine with thinking you got rid of it. Abby never so much as asked for it back. But everything feels more final with the ring in hand, the shining promise of something more. But the naivety of youth chilled her bones, made her believe that love like this comes and goes. It goes. And goes. And goes. 

It never comes. 

“Do you want it back?” You dodge whatever omission she was about to let fall. It’s what you do best. Avoiding the future — she’s always been ominous, constantly you’re scared to believe in the faith of her undying love. The forgiveness of her heart pours like an overflowing well. Abby teeters you along the line of grace you don’t quite deserve.   

“No.”  Abby sighs before she brings herself close to you. “I want you back, Cherry. There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted as much as you. When you left, everyone told me it’s just because you're my first love. Time heals all, right? But it doesn’t. Despite your best efforts, I’ll always love you. You’re—” 

You take a step closer to her, “I’m what?”

“You’re the love of my life. If you walk at that door, it’ll take the rest of my life to fill the gap you leave. But if you don’t love me, then please, put me out of my misery and just leave.” 

Abby looks down at the wood floors, tears collecting in her eyes as she expects you to walk out the front door, leaving her in the dust. But the slam of her front door never comes, instead you sink down on your knees resting your head on her knee, waiting for her to look down at you. 

“What?” Abby grunts. 

“There was this cute, really nerdy blonde girl, she puked on prom night, crying over some straight girl and somehow I managed to fall in love with her despite all odds but you know what the real kicker is?” You intertwined her hands with her, your head tilting to the side as your dreamily looked into sunny-blues, sticking to you like honey,

“I never, ever stopped.”

[woniedarlin]

Christmas with a Stranger

pairing: Jungwon x female! reader

synopsis: Jungwon never expected this. He never really thought he’d be spending Christmas with a complete stranger. But how could he resist when the stranger was you—an adorable girl wobbling through the winter market in more layers than he could count? Maybe this Christmas would be one to remember.

author's note: Hey darlings! I know I’ve been on a hiatus, and I’m sorry for disappearing for so long. As an apology (and a Christmas gift!), I’ve put together this story inspired by all those corny Christmas rom-com movies we can’t help but love. Believe it or not, I planned this fic months ago. It was one of the ideas I’d been holding onto, and now felt like the perfect time to bring it to life finally. I hope you enjoy this cozy holiday surprise! Happy reading and advanced happy Christmas 🎄

caution: It contains enough holiday spirit to make you cringe in the best way possible. You might find yourself layering up in hopes of catching the attention of a cute boy.

permanent taglist: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n

The market was lively,

With holiday lights and stalls selling warm drinks, handmade gifts, and Christmas decorations.

Jungwon strolled along…admiring the festive atmosphere, when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone…

Unique.

There you were—A girl bundled up in what looked like five or six layers, wobbling as you moved from stall to stall.

You have this thick scarf nearly swallowing your face, a hat slipping over your eyes, and mittens so big they made your hands look twice the size. You struggled to pick up a hot chocolate from a vendor, finally balancing it with both hands.

Jungwon couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he watched you. You looked absolutely adorable and out of place in the most charming way, wholly wrapped up and making little grumpy faces as you tried to adjust your hat.

Just then, you turned, catching him watching you. Your eyes widened a little, and you gave a quick shy wave, which mostly just looked like your mitten bobbing up and down.

Jungwon saw his chance and walked over with a smile. “Hey, need a hand?” he asked, nodding at your overflowing cup of hot chocolate.

‘’Oh, um…” You looked down, unsure how to respond to your marshmallow-like layers restricting your movements. “I… I think I got it, maybe…” But just as you spoke, a bit of hot chocolate spilled over the side, and you winced.

Jungwon bit back a laugh. “Here, let me help.” Gently taking your cup, he offered, “They sell marshmallows over at the next stall… but I think you’ve got that covered.”

You laughed, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I know, I must look ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” Jungwon echoed, feigning offense. “You’re the coziest thing I’ve seen all day.” His smile softened, the humor in his gaze replaced by something gentler. “Honestly, you’re hard not to notice.”

The corners of his mouth quirked up. “But in an adorable way.”

The word “adorable” struck you, your cheeks growing hotter. You glanced down at your layers, suddenly hyperaware of how out of place you must look. “I don’t usually wear this much…”

“Liar,” Jungwon interrupted with a playful smirk. “You’ve clearly been perfecting this for years.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, your embarrassment melting under his warm gaze. “Well, I do get cold easily,” you admitted. “This is just… practical.”

“Practical,” he mused, “I like it. You stand out. It’s refreshing.”

Unexpectedly, Jungwon lifted the cup toward your mouth

Huh?

You blinked, momentarily confused, though he couldn’t blame you; after all, it probably wasn’t every day that someone tried to feed you while you looked like an over-swaddled snow bunny.

Jungwon chuckled softly, then reached up to adjust your thick scarf, tugging it down just enough to expose your mouth. “There we go. Let’s not have your scarf completely swallow your face.” He flashed a teasing smile. “This is a strategic move to prevent you from becoming an actual walking, talking marshmallow. I’m afraid I can’t let that happen. You’re too cute in this state.”

He watched as you sipped the hot chocolate, a genuine smile spreading across his lips. Your cheeks were flushed a soft pink from the chill in the air. “See? That wasn’t so bad.” He teased, tilting his head slightly. “I’m not sure how you managed to drink it with that enormous scarf, though.”

“You know,” he said after a beat, “it’s not every day I meet someone who makes winter look this cute.”

You swallowed hard, lowering your eyes as a nervous laugh bubbled up. “It’s not every day I let a stranger feed me,” you countered,

Jungwon smirked, leaning back just enough to give you some space, though his presence still loomed. “Well, I’d like to think I’m not just any stranger.” His eyes gleamed with humor. “Feeding beautiful snow bunnies in need of assistance is a specialty.”

“Jungwon,” he introduced smoothly,

You repeated it softly, savoring the way it felt on your lips. “Jungwon…”

His grin widened. “And you are?”

You hesitated for a moment before offering your name, the sound barely audible.

“Beautiful name,” he said without missing a beat, his tone sincere. He is still clearly amused that a fluffy creature like you could speak properly, let alone form actual words from beneath so much winter gear.

🍧

The conversation flowed easily after that, your initial shyness melting away under Jungwon’s charm. But when you mentioned your holiday plans—or lack thereof—his expression faltered.

“Alone?” he asked, his voice quieter now, as if the very idea unsettled him.

You nodded, pulling your scarf back up as though it might shield you from the weight of the truth. “Yeah. My family’s… busy this year.”

He fell silent for a moment, observing your bundled figure. Spending the holidays alone wasn’t something he’d ever want anyone to experience, and the idea of you being alone on Christmas didn’t sit right with him.

Suddenly, an impulsive idea popped into his mind. It was unconventional, but it could change things for you this holiday.

“Spend Christmas with me.’’

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, his tone casual but his gaze intent. “Celebrate Christmas with me. I promise I’m good company. And I’ve got a knack for making holidays memorable.”

You stared at him, torn between disbelief and intrigue. “You don’t even know me.”

“Not yet,” he agreed, grinning. “But that’s the fun part, isn’t it?”

You hesitated, the idea both ridiculous and oddly appealing…

“Well?” he prompted, his grin widening. “What do you say?”

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding.

“Sure,” you said, surprising even yourself.

Jungwon’s smile lit up the market brighter than any string of holiday lights. “Perfect. You won’t regret this.”

What did you just do? Celebrating Christmas with a stranger? And a handsome one at that? Oh hell yeah!

🍧

As promised, Jungwon stood outside the market, patiently awaiting your arrival. He glanced up as he heard a familiar, slightly unsteady waddle coming his way and couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“Ah, there’s my little penguin,” he greeted,

He looked you up and down, taking in the thick winter gear covering you from head to toe. “You’re even fluffier today if that’s possible,” he teased, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure you can walk in all that?”

You gave him a determined nod, wobbling closer. “Yup.”

He shakes his head in amusement. Even from a distance, your figure looked like it was about to topple over from the weight of all your layers, but somehow you kept on going.

At that rate, he was half-sure you’d make it to him by spring.

With a slight shake of his head, he extended an arm. “Here, lean on me for a second.”

When you finally reached him, he gently took your hand to help steady you. “Are you sure you’ll be able to move properly in… all this?” he said, giving a light tug on one of your oversized sleeves.

You nodded confidently. “Yeah.”

His gaze dropped to your large snow boots. “And you won’t fall face-first with those on?” he asked, a grin tugging at his lips.

“I won’t,” you replied, though the boots made you look like you’d sink into the snow at any moment. “So… where are we going, anyway?”

He smiled, his gaze holding a tiny bit of mischief. Jungwon had intentionally kept the specifics of their plans hidden to surprise you later, and he wasn’t about to tell you his master plan just yet.

“You’ll find out soon. But rest assured, it’s something you’ve never experienced before.” He reached up and lightly tugged on your scarf, grinning at the fact that only your eyes were visible under all your layers. “Ready?”

You nodded with enthusiasm, muffled slightly beneath the scarf. “Yeah.”

Seeing your enthusiastic nod, Jungwon reached down and interlaced your hand with his larger one. “Let’s go then.” He then began to lead you away from the market.

🍧

As the day progressed, Jungwon filled the hours with various activities, and the one thing that remained consistently adorable? Your attire. From clumsy attempts at ice skating to attempting to stuff your face full of food through the thick layers of clothing, you looked like the embodiment of winter cheer.

He found himself enjoying your company more than he thought. From your soft, shy smiles to your genuine excitement during each activity,

You effortlessly won him over with every passing moment.

You and Jungwon strolled through the snow-covered streets. Everything felt like a scene from a Christmas rom-com movie you used to watch as a kid.

Suddenly, Jungwon stepped on a hidden patch of ice. His eyes widened, and he gave a surprised “Whoa!” as he slipped, his arms flailing for balance.

“Oh no!” you gasped, reaching out to help without thinking. But as soon as you stepped toward him, your feet hit the same icy patch, and you slipped too. Your thick layers of clothing kept you from any real impact, but you landed right beside him, both of you now sitting in the snow.

Your face warmed in embarrassment, cheeks already pink from the cold. You tried to move, but your puffy coat and layers had you stuck in place. You gave a tiny, awkward laugh. “Um… I don’t think I can get up.”

Jungwon looked at you, his surprise quickly replaced with a soft laugh. “Are you okay?” he asked, still chuckling as he brushed some snow off his coat.

You nodded, feeling a little shy but smiling up at him. “Yeah, just… maybe a little too bundled up.”

“Here, let me help.” Jungwon shifted closer, reaching out carefully. He grabbed your hand, pulling you up gently, but you were so bundled up that you barely budged. His cheeks flushed with laughter as he adjusted his grip. “Hold on—one more try?”

You gave a slight, bashful nod, squeezing his hand as he gave a determined pull. With a bit of wobbling, he finally managed to lift you to your feet. You held onto his hand a little longer, both of you steadying yourselves, cheeks pink and eyes bright from laughing.

“Thanks for rescuing me,” you said, softly looking down as you adjusted your scarf.

Jungwon’s warm smile lingered as he let go of your hand, his gaze soft. “I should be thanking you… for trying to save me first.”

You both giggled and continued walking together, staying just a bit closer.

🍧

The two of you found yourselves back at the Christmas market. It was quieter at this hour, with only a few vendors left. Snowflakes drifted gently down, dusting everything.

Jungwon looked at you, his breath visible in the cold air, and smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a Christmas like this,” he said, his voice warm and soft.

You smiled back. Cheeks tinged with a slight blush from the cold—and maybe from his words. “Me neither… I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”

For a moment, neither spoke, content to stand while the whole world quieted around you. Then, Jungwon took a deep breath, hesitating just a second before reaching out and gently taking your hand in his.

He looked down at your hands, bundled in mittens, and then back up at you. “I know we just met, but… I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, a warm feeling spreading through you. “Me too,” you whispered, feeling an unexpected connection that felt as natural as the snowflakes falling around you.

Slowly, Jungwon leaned in, his face close to yours, his gaze soft. “Would it be okay if…?” he murmured his voice barely a whisper.

You nodded, feeling a lot nervous. And then, he closed the distance, pressing a gentle warm kiss to your lips.

When you pulled back, you were smiling, and the world felt even brighter somehow.

You held hands as you walked back down the quiet street, each of you knowing that this Christmas was the beginning of something extraordinary.

[magpiepills]

Austin, Texas on a Cloudy January Sunday, 2003

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Joel Miller x f! Reader

Word count: 800

Summary: you and Joel go to a movie, he is in love with you.

Warnings: SMUT, also, pining, adoration, Joel is a good guy, oral (m receiving)

A word from the author: more fluff and smut? Who am I? I took an undeserved break from what I should be working on because @redhotkitchen ‘s dream last night was so inspirational. We all deserve this Joel. It’s a continuation of the same Joel and reader from Austin Texas On A Rainy November Saturday, 2002

MASTERLIST

Joel is dogged, calling after work to talk on his way home from his job sites. He wants to know how your day was, what you ate, what you’ve been reading, what you’re wearing, when he can see you again. He tells you about what he’s building, the hideous kitchen he worked in all morning. He brings over dinner, committing to memory which wine you said you liked.

He brings you to his house, grills you steaks and lounges on the couch, you between his legs reading while football plays. You go out, sometimes. To book stores, flea markets, and parks. He watches your ass sway ahead of him on the hiking trail as you point out mosses and mushrooms. He takes your picture, flattering candid shots, grinning selfies together, all saved to his favorites, a few in his hidden folder, your legs, your cleavage, your ass when you’re on your tiptoes, reaching for a humongous sycamore leaf.

He kisses you against the tree, when the trail is clear and the woods are quiet. He grinds his hips against yours so you feel him, hard and aching with desire.

It’s been just eight weeks, but he’s won you over. There’s still no label, more your doing than his. If Joel had his way you’d be his and his alone and everybody is the fucking state would know it.

He was patient, willing to wait, to show you how good he can be for you. He cleans before you come over, he listens when you talk, he always makes you come first, at least once.

When he texts you at 10 on a cloudy, cold Sunday morning, you respond immediately.

He wants to go to an early movie. Something with Oscar buzz. You change into a black shift, with black tights and boots, and dump a handful of leftover Christmas chocolates into your purse.

He picks you up in his warm truck, holding your hand across town to the theater. He smells good, like cold air and his deodorant.

As you wait in line he pulls you against his chest, tucks his thick coat around you, and kisses the top of your head.

You’re struck by your attraction to him. Not just his looks, though he is incredibly attractive, but his easy personality, his openness, his ability to take care of things. To take care of you.

It feels too good to be true, that he’s so good, so handsome, and that he’s got a perpetual hard on for you too. You contemplate this as the movie starts, after he empties his coat pockets of the snacks he got at the gas station. His hand casually rests on your thigh, lightly dragging his fingers up and down.

Suddenly feeling bold, you reach over in the dark and slide your hand over his hips until you find his turgid member. You rub it lightly until he adjusts, sliding down a bit into his seat, left hand holding tight on the armrest, the other still on your thigh. You can get a better grip this way, feeling the fullness and girth, the way his balls are snug in the fabric, scratching your nails over them to send a zing of sensation all the way up his shaft. He squeezes your thigh and squirms against your palm, whispering “baby.”

He looks around the near empty theater, and mercifully, no one is watching. He takes off his coat and drapes it over you both. He quietly undoes his jeans, freeing his cock.

You’re glad he chose the matinee. You stroke his cock slowly and lick your lips, remembering the taste of him.

Joels head drops against the back of his seat and you can see his Adam’s apple bob in the dark, silhouetted by the flickering light of the film.

Emboldened by his need, you slip from your seat and nestle your body between his knees, ignoring the sticky floor. You duck under his coat and lick him from balls to tip before taking him fully into your mouth.

His hand shoots out to grab at your neck, tangling in your hair. A strangled groan escapes him.

You smile around his thick, pulsing cock, pleased with how quickly he falls apart. You bob your head, keeping him deep in your hot throat. You’re determined, sucking him, swirling your tongue against his shaft.

Mere moments pass before his thighs tense and he releases into your mouth, his eyes squeezed shut.

You move back into your seat, grinning at him, loving the way he looks when he’s just been thoroughly sucked dry, and he pulls you to him for a kiss, settling you under his arm as you both try to refocus on the movie.

He thinks he loves you. He’s got to tell you, he decides.

[wchswift]

As the World Caves In ༉‧₊˚ 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader Summary: The end of season 5 rewritten with you and Dean, inspired by the song As the World Caves in. Content: angst, apocalypse, spoilers for s5, canon violence, mention of blood, Lucifer, mentions of murders, not proofread, English isn’t my first language :) this follows the canon plot line but some things might happen and be described differently Word count: 1036 A/N: I was listening to As the World Caves in from Matt Maltese and this song reminded me so much of the last episode of season 5 that I had to make a drabble of this scene inspired by the music.

mdni 𖤐 18+

The ground beneath Stull Cemetery trembled, cracks snaking through the earth like veins. Lightning split the sky, illuminating the chaos in staccato flashes. Dean gripped your hand as you both stood in the Impala's shadow, the roar of thunder a cruel backdrop to the battle about to unfold.

“You don’t have to come with me,” Dean muttered, his voice rough, but the words were soft, almost pleading.

You snorted, tugging your hand free only to grab the lapels of his jacket. “You really think I’d let you face this alone? C’mon, Dean. You know me better than that.”

For a second, his green eyes searched yours, vulnerable in a way they rarely were. He sighed and nodded. “Just—stay close, okay?”

The fight that followed was a blur. You and Dean moved in sync, as if every step, every strike, had been choreographed in advance. Castiel’s grace flickered like a dying light, and Bobby’s shotgun boomed over the din. But it wasn’t enough.

When Lucifer turned his attention to Dean, you saw it coming a second too late. You didn’t think—you didn’t have to. As Lucifer raised his hand, you threw yourself in its path, your body colliding with Dean’s just as the blast struck. The impact hit like a freight train, ripping you off your feet and hurling you backward.

Pain exploded in your shoulder as you collided with the jagged edge of a broken gravestone. The sharp stone tore into your flesh, sending a fresh wave of agony through your body. The world spun, and for a moment, all you could hear was the ringing in your ears and Dean’s muffled shout.

A sting flared up suddenly, stealing the breath from your lungs as you hit the ground. Dean was there instantly, cradling you in his arms. His voice cracked as he called your name, his hands trembling as they pressed against your wounds. Blood soaked through your shirt, warm and sticky, and every breath was a struggle.

“Why the hell did you do that?” he rasped, his face inches from yours.

“Because I’m not losing you,” you whispered, forcing a smile despite the pain. “I promised, remember? ‘Til the end.”

His forehead pressed against yours, his breaths shallow and uneven. “You’re gonna be fine,” he said, though his eyes betrayed the fear he was trying so hard to hide. “I just need to—dammit, I need to stop the bleeding.”

You gripped his wrist weakly, forcing him to look at you. “Dean… go. Sam needs you.”

“No. Not until—”

“Go,” you insisted, your voice firmer than you felt. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

His jaw clenched, torn between staying and going. Finally, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering. “You’d better be. Just hold on. Don’t leave me.”

You reached up, your fingers brushing against his stubble jaw. “You’re stuck with me, Winchester.”

But there was no time to linger. The battle called him back, and with one last look—raw and desperate—he laid you gently against the Impala and charged back into the fray.

᭝ ᨳଓ𓂃⋆.

Sam's knuckles were covered with Dean's blood. Each blow landed with a sickening crunch, Lucifer—Sam’s face twisted in a cruel smirk.

“Sam!” Dean called out, his voice rough with emotion, mouth full of blood. “Sammy, please! I know you’re still in there, man! Fight him! You can beat this!”

Lucifer’s anger flared. He raised his fist, and in the next moment, Sam—under Lucifer’s control—struck Dean hard across the face. The punch sent Dean flying backward, crashing into the dirt with a sickening thud.

“Sam…” Dean gasped, blood streaming from the corner of his mouth as he struggled to lift himself up. “Please... don’t do this.”

But it was too late. The punch wasn’t enough to keep Dean down. Sam’s voice was barely audible now, but Dean heard it, the desperation in his brother’s words.

“Dean...” Sam whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry…”

Dean’s heart pounded in his chest. “No, Sammy. You’re still in there. I know you are. You’ve got to fight him.”

Sam’s eyes flickered with recognition, and a final surge of strength exploded from him. Lucifer’s grip on Sam’s body loosened for just a moment, and Sam—weak but determined—mustered every ounce of willpower he had left. He reached for the Cage.

Dean’s voice cracked, his hands outstretched as he ran toward Sam, desperate to stop him. “Sammy, no! Don’t do this!”

But Sam’s hand shot out, and with one final act of self-sacrifice, he threw himself into the Cage, dragging Lucifer and Michael with him.

“Sam!” Dean screamed, his voice shattering as the Cage slammed shut with a resounding finality.

The first rays of dawn crept over the horizon, pale and hesitant, as if afraid to touch the wreckage left behind. You were leaning against the Impala’s crumpled hood, your wounds hastily bandaged with strips of Dean’s flannel.

He returned to you like a ghost, moving slowly, his face etched with exhaustion and grief. Without a word, he collapsed beside you, his head resting against your shoulder.

“It’s over,” he said, though it sounded more like a question than a statement.

You nodded, your fingers tangling with his. “Yeah. For now. We will get Sam back okay?”

The silence stretched between you, heavy with everything that had been lost and everything that might still be salvaged. Finally, Dean broke it.

“I thought I’d lost you back there,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to him, your lips curving into a tired smile. “Takes more than the devil himself to get rid of me.”

A huff of laughter escaped him, and for a moment, the weight lifted. He pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering as if grounding himself in your presence.

“𝘠𝘦𝘴, 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘐 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩,

𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥, 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯”

As the sun climbed higher, you both sat there, bruised and battered, but together. And for the first time in what felt like forever, there was hope.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

[miguel-ohara-lover]

Coming Undone

CW: feral, rapture side effects, I know rapture isn’t actually like this so maybe AU(?), no prep, GN reader, p*rn no plot, no dialogue

Note: HI?? Omg it’s been awhile since I’ve written well anything really. But I wanted to write something short and simple since it is a special time of year for a lot of people including me. I tried to make reader as non-descriptive as I could, like I didn’t even describe clothes or anything so I hope that worked? I got random struck with inspiration to write, maybe it’s all the love on my old stuff which by the way THANK YOU??? My love for Oscar Isaac was recently resparked so maybe that’s another reason lol. Anyway- I hope you like this merry Christmas and happy holidays, and if you don’t celebrate anything I hope you had a wonderful year and here’s to many more wonderful years to come.

You felt Miguel’s hot breath against your neck, his large, strong hangs pinning yours against the wall. His chest pressed into your back. God, he was feral…

He did briefly explain some side effects of Rapture when you first got together, but maybe you weren’t listening fully. You remember clearly now, exactly what he said. How it can make him feel, how dangerous he can truly get at times.

Miguel’s fangs grazed the skin of your neck. One bite and you’d be paralyzed. He was smarter than that. He had at least enough control to stop himself from causing real harm, though the temptation was there. He so badly wanted to sink his teeth into your flesh… perhaps another time he can ask if you’d like to try that.

You felt trapped, but not helpless. And trapped wasn’t necessary a bad thing. Feeling caged in by his large towering body was kind of hot. The way his frame made you feel small. His right hand moved off of yours and down to your waist. He shoved the fabric down until it bunched around your knees.

He could practically smell the arousal dripping from you, all his senses heightened and on overload. It was overwhelming. Miguel quickened his pace, letting his holographic suit dissolve away, leaving him bare behind you.

Miguel is very large, he’s aware, and you’re aware. And he’s impatient. The thought of prep does briefly cross his mind, but only that. No, he can’t wait, not anymore.

Taking barely any time to line up, he’s suddenly buried deep inside you. You cry out as he stretched your unpressed hole, but the pain quickly melts into pleasure as you feel his slow and deep movements.

For being so impatient just seconds ago, he is steady with his thrusts. He wants you to feel it deep within you, every curve, every vein. He is savoring the feeling of you around him, and for someone who is usually in control, he can already feel himself coming undone.

Miguel is big, so big you remember the first time doubting if he’d fit. Oh, he made it fit. He made sure you felt every last inch. You couldn’t walk straight for a week. Deja vu is hitting you like a stack of bricks, but it’s not a terrible feeling.

His other hand, that had been holding you against the wall, joined his right at your waist, using the control to bounce you along his length as he thrusted. Your moans grew louder as his pace quickened, the room filled with your noise and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

That combined with the smell, your smell, your touch, the sight of you… it drove him crazy. You felt his claws pricking at your skin, surely he wouldn’t actually pierce you with them, but man is he close to. The thought is there, he so badly wants to, the urge to sink his claws and teeth into you, use his webs to tie you up and just ravage you. He’s aware of how dangerous he is, and he does his best to keep it under control.

You know he’s close when his hips stutter, he gets more desperate in his movements, if that’s even possible right now. He also starts to pant, like a needy dog. This is the one stage in your… fun where he isn’t the dangerous leader of the spider society. Panting and even letting out little whines as he ruts into you.

It isn’t long before you feel the familiar warmth of his seed filling you up, and you soon join him. You let out a final moan and reaching back to tangle your fingers his hair. He remains buried in you for a moment while you both ride out your orgasms, panting as he nuzzles into your neck where his teeth were previously threatening to mark up.

He held you against his strong chest, keeping you up knowing you’d slip if he didn’t have a grip on you. He mumbled some quiet thanks against your skin, and you simply smiled as your fingers tangled in his slightly dampened hair. A shower sounds like a good idea, now that he isn’t overwhelmed by senses and feelings.

[homelanderbutbig]

Sympathy For The Dead (G/T Homelander x Reader)

2145 words. Angst, and a bit of hurt/comfort. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

You are forced to come to terms with Homelander's violent tendencies when he murders someone for flirting with you. Inspired by an ask from @adryrivera.

It's early in the morning on the set of 'In Depth With Maria Menounos'. Homelander has an interview scheduled today, and you are accompanying him as his personal assistant. This is the first time you've had this opportunity to come along to one of his functions outside of the Tower, and you're pretty excited. Being on a television production is an entirely different world compared to the mundane office work at Vought, and you're enjoying it even if you're just watching on the sidelines.

When it's time for Homelander to go on-air, you're standing back by the rest of the crew so you can witness your favourite supe work his magic. You smile as he switches on that acting charm when the cameras start rolling, so easily bringing all eyes on him with the suave nature he's perfected over the years. He's such a sight to behold when he's in the spotlight, showcasing that electrifying personality that's as big as he is.

"Don't remember seeing you around here before," a voice suddenly says from behind you. It happens to be one of the cameramen, grinning as he checks you out.

"Oh, yes, I'm Homelander's assistant. Nice to meet you," you politely respond, tucking your clipboard under one arm to shake his hand.

"A supe's assistant huh? That must be an interesting job," he comments, still smirking.

"It's never a dull moment," you laugh, thinking to yourself that he doesn't know the half of it.

"So… you uh, you doing anything later?" he asks, resting his elbow on top of the camera. You're taken aback by his words. Is he… is he asking you out?

"I-I'm sorry, I'm seeing someone," you disclose, perhaps a bit more curtly than you hoped. But all you can think of when hearing that is how pissed Homelander would be at this poor guy.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't realize," he blushes, quickly getting embarrassed by how spectacularly he's struck out.

"Don't worry about it, it's not a problem," you giggle. You can't fault a guy for trying. "Let's just get back to our jobs and forget this happened?"

You're glad he doesn't seem to have taken offense as he nods, letting out a flustered laugh. He returns to operating the camera, and you back to focusing on your clipboard full of the day's scheduling. At least you successfully brushed this situation off, with no harm done.

However, you don't notice Homelander's reaction as he observes this from the midst of his interview.

~~~

After the talk show is done filming, you get caught up talking to Ashley and lose track of time. She's yapping on about Homelander's points and how well this interview went, just more work talk that you could care less about. When you eventually manage to break free, you notice that Homelander is nowhere to be found, having already left the set. But you doubt that he'd leave the building without you so you start your search, happy to tell him how proud you are of his interview.

But you weren't expecting what you find in the downstairs hallway.

You figured he just made a quick getaway because he's always mentioned how much he loathes these mind-numbing talk shows. But instead, you discover his true intentions.

He was following the cameraman.

He kept his pace fast but light, allowing him to go undetected to the man's pathetic human ears. And when he had him isolated in the hallway, he wasted no time letting this worthless, primitive vermin pay for daring to make an advance on you. He lasered a hole straight through his crotch, causing the man to collapse on the ground in agony. He reveled in the look of absolute terror as this worm realized his fate was sealed. He then painstakingly applied pressure to his head, savouring the satisfying crunch of his bones until it was crushed under the supe's boot, leaving nothing but an indistinguishable mess of blood and gore.

You are rooted to the floor, petrified at the sight of what he's done. His head snaps towards you, face twisted with rage and eyes still shining a bright crimson as they stare directly into your soul.

"Come here," you growls at you, raising his hand to signal for you to approach him. He knows you are afraid; he can hear your heart's pace quickening and smell the cortisol levels in your blood spiking. In his mind, he believes you will come to your senses and realize this decision was for the best. You will understand he did this to save you. You are his. You will listen to him. You will obey.

But you don't listen. You only freeze for a second before you turn around and flee. The last thing you hear as you run out of the building is Homelander roaring your name.

~~~

You spend the rest of the day aimlessly traversing the city, paying no attention to where you are going. You needed time alone before you return back to the Tower, before you face Homelander.

It still feels so fresh in your mind. One moment you were chatting with this man, and the next his life is over. In a flash, a human life is snuffed out. Someone with a family, with hopes and dreams. All for what, because he made the fatal error of asking you out on a date?

And the worst sight of all, was the expression on Homelander's face. There was no remorse, no tinge of regret for seeing how you reacted. It was just pure hatred for this man, an absolute stranger. You can't help but wonder how many people he's killed without you knowing.

Finally, the sun begins to set along the city skyline. Night is approaching, and you know you can't simmer on this any longer. You need to confront him, you need answers. Gathering yourself, you catch a taxi back to Vought Tower, and begin your ascent to the penthouse.

With a shaky breath, you step off the elevator once it reaches the top floor and walk briskly inside. However, not in a million years were you expecting what you see in the penthouse. Your lengthy absence clearly took a stronger toll on him than you ever anticipated… he's destroyed the living room. The large American flag tapestry is torn to shreds, adorned with scorch marks from a now extinguished fire. Every single marble statue is cut clean from his laser eyes and smashed to pieces, the gray rubble scattered across the floor. Not even his immaculate leather couch was spared, having been ripped in half by two inhumanly strong hands.

And lastly, in the middle of the chaos, silently sits Homelander on the floor. He's leaning up against the wall, his arms wrapped around his bent-up knees. His face is flushed, eyes bloodshot and puffy from what you can only imagine was a waterfall of tears. Right now he looks like a child trying to huddle himself into a ball because he knows he's in trouble. Yet, you can't help but notice the bloody viscera of the cameraman still coating his boot.

"Why are you here?" he utters abruptly, snapping you back to reality after being overcome by the state of the penthouse. Despite his sad demeanor, his words are blunt and laced with deflection. When you don't answer him, he exhales loudly through his nose. "Why did you come back if you hate me?"

"I don't hate you Homelander," you retort, not taking his bait. You're not sure if that was the answer he was expecting as you watch him tense his jaw.

"Are you mad at me?" he questions you further. You aren't certain if he's fishing for a reason for you to comfort him, or so he can kill you too.

"No. I'm not angry at you," you reply. "But I am disappointed and upset at what you did."

He swallows hard at that, feeling the tears once again well up in his eyes. Disappointed.

"H-he was dangerous… I d-did it to protect you," he mumbles hoarsely. Your unimpressed glower signals to him that you aren't buying his excuses. He knows you aren't going to forgive him, and that's enough to make him hyperventilate. He lowers his head down into his arms, unable to stop himself from crying again. Unable to stop his thoughts from convincing himself that this is how your relationship is going to end.

With a deep sigh, you cross your arms and shake your head at his behaviour. These tears aren't out of sympathy for the dead. You know for a fact that he has no guilt over murdering the cameraman, he's only regretful because he's displeased you.

But the longer you stare at him sobbing so pathetically, the more you start to realize something. You're not looking at the same supe that killed the cameraman; this is Homelander's inner child. This is the boy who was tortured and withheld from love, that had this violence forcibly bred into him. His power over humans was all he had, and now it's so ingrained into his psyche that he cannot stop it from rearing its ugly head.

When he killed the cameraman, he was no longer a man but a dog. He presented his carcass to you as a present, to show you his love in a way you could never comprehend. His love is something feral, that scares everyone else away when it bares its fangs. Yet it has no bite, when deep down his love is never reciprocated, but feared when it becomes too much for the object of his affections to handle.

And as much as it pains you, you know you are going to have to accept this part of him. Because you are the only one who's tamed this dog, and seen the sweet puppy it becomes with just a little compassion.

Methodically, you walk over beside him and place a hand on his arm. Right now with him sitting on the ground you're standing about a foot higher, getting a vantage point you don't experience very often. Hesitantly, he tilts his head up at you. His blue eyes are teeming with apprehension, with the longing for your forgiveness of his actions… even if deep down he knows he doesn't deserve it.

"Hun, I would never let someone else come between us," you soothe him, lifting your hand up from his arm to lightly caress his cheek, saturated with his tears. The second he feels your soft fingers his tension begins to melt away, moving his head up and down to desperately facilitate a pet.

Slowly, Homelander opens up his posture, to allows you to come in between his legs and up to his face. He delicately rests his hands on your waist, waiting for permission to hug you. He can't just take what he wants, not now. He can't bear to make you this unhappy at him ever again.

"And you know what? If I saw somebody flirting with you, I'd get jealous too," you remark, your hands still cupping his face. "But I'm not going to stew on my jealousy until I feel the only solution is violence. I'm going to get those emotions out by talking to you. Because I love you, and I care about you more than anything else."

You steadily come closer to him, spreading your arms across his shoulders to finally give him the hug he's been longing for all day. He wastes no time enveloping you in his hold, burying you in his massive arms as he rests his head in the crook of your neck. Your fingers scratch at the back of his undercut, bringing this dog down to your heels in an instant. Any semblance of rage he may have had earlier in the day has now evaporated into the ether, leaving nothing but the desire for obedience.

"The next time you start to feel yourself getting worked up… wherever you are, can you come find me? Can that be something we work on together?" you ask. His brief nod against your shoulder is enough of an answer, you know he would never lie. And besides, the two of you don't need to say anything else right now. All that's left for today is to let this moment fade into sleep, and let tomorrow be the time to clean up the mess.

While sinking into your embrace, Homelander has his own realization. The way he feels about you is different than his past relationships. You are not his 'property' that he is envious of others ogling. You are his treasure, one that sees the good in him despite all of his own horrible faults. One that he feels he must guard with his entire being.

He is going to be better, if not for himself than just for you.

[jj-lvr]

PART ONE

taken!jj x routledge!reader, cheating, basically backstory atp, brothers best friend, start of a series, inspired by my dr, mean!jj mdni

—————————————————————————

it was no secret that jj saw you as nothing more than a nuisance. he had confirmed it himself one night when he and john b had been arguing, that he didn’t understand why his best friend had kicked him out of the guest bedroom for “some chick who might not even be your sister.” your brother kicked him out for the night not long after that, and despite all your reasoning with him he refused to let jj back in until he apologised.

that was until topper and rafe needed amusement. the pogues had been out at the boneyard for some reason you couldn’t remember when you had fallen asleep, only to be woken up two days later by jj in the basement of tannyhill. he told you the kooks had kidnapped you, with an awfully sympathetic voice that you really didn’t expect from him.

that was two weeks ago, two long weeks of your brothers friends sneaking off together and ignoring your existence. you were sick and tired of it. it didn’t take much reasoning in your mind for you to pack your bags, nor to stuff your pillows under the bedsheets to make it look like you were still in bed. the wind brushed your face as you looked back at what was meant to be your home. god, you needed to leave.

as you stealthily closed the bedroom door behind you, a voice caught you off guard.

“well damn,” jj scoffed as he sat up shirtless on the sofa bed, “now what do we have here?”

“leave me alone, jj.”

he went silent at your tone for a moment, eyes pinned on you as you walked past him to the front door. “where you going?”

you rolled your eyes as you opened the door. “i’m going home, duh,” you replied in a huff as you stormed out. the quick pace of footsteps caused you to roll your eyes.

“oh hell no,” jj hissed at the sight of your truck, parked in the driveway and ready to go back to Florida. “you can’t leave.”

“um…yeah i can,” you retort as you head towards it, “what, you suddenly care?” as you speak you open the passenger door and load your bags in.

“you wish, babe,” he smiles with no humour to him at all, before he turns on you and heads to the driver side. “feel free to go to florida for a bit, properly say goodbye and all, but i’m coming with you to make sure you come back. your my best friend’s only family.”

the mention of your brother stung; he had been nothing but sweet these last couple of weeks. you had cooked with him for the pogues, you had fished with him, he had even taught you how to skim a stone. your memory soured when you realised who exactly you were talking to.

“don’t you have a girlfriend, jj?” you asked quietly, and he stiffens before shrugging and stepping up into the drivers seat. “you’d better stay here with her.”

“what, and let john b wallow even more because he has no family, yeah fat fucking chance,” his harsh words as he snatched your keys from you make you flinch, and for a moment you could swear his eyes soften their piercing gaze before he recovers again. “she’ll be fine. i’ll text her, or get you to do it so she doesn’t worry.”

“won’t she be jealous…you know, that you’re off with a younger girl to florida for god knows how long?” you were provoking him, you knew that. with the way he was looking back at you, he knew it too.

“shut the fuck up,” he simply states, a bite to his tone that wasn’t there before. you wonder if you struck a nerve. “i’m seventeen and you’re sixteen, don’t make this into something it’s not.” bingo.

you were in for a long ride.

[dearlittlefandom-stalker]

'TWAS I, ALL ALONG!

>:D

I, DearLittleFandom-stalker, (also known as D.L.F. and Inigo) am

~ The Phantom Rickroller ~

@reading-by-the-pale-moonlight @reneethegreatandpowerful

@lilliesandlight @seeking-elsewhither @thegreatclowncat @confetti-cat @lady-merian

@choasuqeen @choatic-bumblebee-agenda @thefinaljediknight

@rick-roller @same-pic-rick-roll

@anyone else involved in this whole "Phantom Rickroller" affair (I am terribly sorry but I simply cannot remember all you lovely people)

I am offering prizes! [Ish.]

[Because I realize I have been something of a menace and that the knowledge of my identity is not much of a consolation prize in the wake of all the chaos lol.]

BEHOLD, O.D.D.

See image ^

Participants in the shenanigans may ask for two of the above mentioned things (an opinion, a drabble, or a drawing).

Winners who guessed my identity/figured me out may ask for all three of O.D.D.

And any others who are interested may ask for one as well, but there will be a longer wait because I will prioritize the others' requests first

(And of course anyone can ask for all three multiple times, but understand I will prioritize certain requests over others. After all of the above criteria have been fulfilled, I will probably try to go by a first come/first serve policy (unless I am suddenly struck with inspiration).

DISCLAIMER #1: I am not an artist. I am barely even a writer. My opinions confuse even myself. ASK FOR ANYTHING AT YOUR OWN RISK. This is purely for The Sillies and nothing is likely to be taken very seriously. You have been warned.

DISCLAIMER #2: I retain the right to refuse any request if it makes me uncomfortable. In this case, I will privately message you and ask that you submit a different request.

DISCLAIMER #3: I promise that I WILL get to all of the requests, but I cannot guarantee that they will be done in a reasonable timeframe. Thus I must ask for your patience. Please remember that I am a very slow person in a very fast world lol.

[laughtalelogs]

In the Shadows of Buffalo Bay - Prologue

word count: 1.5k+

Zoro x afab!Reader x Sanji, cowgirl!reader no use of y/n, no beta reader, all my reader characters are black even if not explicitly stated. if that's not ur jam, then don’t read!

Rating: M (smut will be in future chapters, labelled as Explicit.)

Warnings: themes of alcohol, drug use, smoking, mental health issues, implications of self-harm, and violence to come.

Summary: Right after the Straw Hats leave the land of Wano; they land on Buffalo Bay, a gourmet cattle island known for its famous fairs, cowboys, and food. What they find is a dusty town, ruled by a sheriff with more secrets than she lets on. When she challenges the swordsman and seduces the cook, they both can't help but wonder: what is she hiding? And how will her past, entwined with the island's dark history, affect their crew? cross-posted to ao3 @laughtalelogs

Special thanks to @sigilsmut for giving me major inspiration with his OC, Honeko. Please check them out, they’re both pretty neat!

chapter Index- prologue (you are here!), ch.1

Prologue: Darek Red

Prrr. Prrr. Prrr. Cu-lick.

“It’s been quite a while since you’ve called, are you sure about this?”

“Quite. They made it clear it would be utterly careless not to. Expected arrival time is at sunrise. No messes, you hear?”

“Clear as day, sir. Considering the walk in the park you just gave me, should I leave the ‘Thank You’ note with them, or should I save that for when you decide to ring again?”

“Focus. Stick to the plan. And it wouldn’t hurt to remember our deal.”

Cu-lick.

“Great.”

Zoro stirred from his slumber as soon as he heard the laugh of his captain. Was it already time for Brook to take his shift? Did he sleep through breakfast? He didn’t feel the sun on him just yet. He shrugged it off. If there was danger, he’d know, no doubt. He allowed his shoulders to relax as sleep absorbed him once more.

Until suddenly, “Now, Usopp, Chopper!”

The floor shifted, he shot back, the air in his lungs suddenly slammed out of him as his head struck the glass of the crow’s nest. His eye shot open, but his vision swam, followed by a thrumming on the base of his skull. He quickly grabbed his swords that slid under the bench from the change of position, scoping his surroundings. 

Of course, when his guard was down, something would happen to the ship. He ignored the way his vision blurred to turn around and scan the ship through the glass beneath him. He saw a familiar straw hat from a distance and loosened the tight grip of his blades. At least someone was out there.

What he still was trying to figure out was why in the hell was Luffy at the helm? Zoro ran to the hatch. He angled himself down the ladder and tightened his grip as he quickly realized they were soaring through the sky. 

“What the fuck is happening?!” He shouted over the whipping wind, watching Luffy let go of the wheel to stand on the now horizontal mast.

  He just laughed and held onto his hat, his standard goofy grin shined in the moonlight.  “We’re going to the city of meat, duh!”

“You idiot!” Zoro yelled. “We were going to be there in the morning!” His warning fell on deaf ears. Luffy, who was singing and dancing about meat, was too busy to care. He hoped everyone else was safe.

He already had a bad feeling about the poster they’d found on the ghost ship yesterday. The rest of the crew, however, seemed unfazed. Nami had determined from her Log Pose that they’d reach the island by sunrise, and everyone was eager for a break after the war they’d just endured. But, of course, Luffy’s hunger had to ruin that plan.

He glanced around while his thoughts wandered for a brief and unwelcomed moment.

Where was the damn cook? His face soured, trying to force the thought down as soon as it came. He’s probably clinging onto his bed in the men’s quarters like an idiot, he thought again, but the idea of Sanji flying overboard refused to leave his mind. 

“He’ll survive just in spite of me thinking that,” He humored, muttering under his breath to himself, the usual bite in his tone gone. Still, he scanned the doors for a mop of blonde hair that he wouldn’t admit he waited to appear. If he had half the brain Zoro thought he had, he’s probably helping the others. 

Now, Zoro was stuck there, gripping the rope ladder as he tried to make sense of the chaos. Over Luffy’s shoulder, he caught glimpses of the dark horizon. The Sunny pitched forward sharply, teetering above the sea before nose diving toward land. Zoro was relaxed as ever—if relaxed meant cursing under his breath and bracing for impact.

“Hold o-” Zoro’s warnings were cut off as the ship slammed into hard dirt, skidding like a rock skipping across a pond. Zoro jostled against the rope ladder with each impact, gritting his teeth. The hull screeched. Luffy was laughing, because of course this was absolutely hilarious to him, as he swung on a stretched arm. A chorus of startled yelling joined the ship’s groaning protests, the crew must have been rudely woken up just like him. 

Finally, they stopped. The wood wheezed underneath them, the pitch black enveloping them on all sides. 

“That was awesome!” Luffy’s cackle echoed off into the dark night as he dropped from the mast back onto the grassy deck. “Did you see that Zoro?!” 

He did more than see it, he thought. He drops from the rope onto the deck. He went to reply, but heard doors slamming open and shut, followed by multiple yells for the same person.

“LUFFY!”

Everyone clambered in, one after another. Jinbei carried Brook’s head, while Franky angrily dragged the other two culprits with him. Behind them, Zoro sees a shock of blonde, and he lets go of a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. He scratched the back of his head and rolled his shoulders, as if his previous worries would fall off of them. Adrenaline is still pumped through his veins under hot skin, cooled off by the night’s air. 

“Morning everyone!” Luffy said excitedly, smile stretched so wide Zoro wouldn’t be surprised if his face stayed like that. “We’re here! Good work, Usopp and Chopper!”

“I can’t believe I let him talk me into this..” Usopp groaned and whimpered under the tight grip Franky held his waist in, and Chopper gasped for air. 

  “Too tight, too tight!” He clawed at the large hand with his hooves to no avail.

Nami was already tearing Luffy a new one, and Franky was following suit. Even Jinbei had a look of dismay, while Brook was steadily complaining in his palm.

“You can’t believe it,” Franky says through his teeth, dropping the two to the floor. “I can’t believe all the work I’m going to have to do on the Sunny because of you 3, this is not super, bros.” 

“I’m thinking we should’ve kept him in the cage,” Sanji muttered as he let go of Nami and set down robin on the deck. 

“I agree with you Sanji,” Nami bellowed as she charged past Zoro, and pinched hard on Luffy’s cheek. “I don’t think he learned his lesson from the waterfall, after all,” 

Luffy whined halfheartedly like a child. “Ow- I’m really sorry, Nami.. I was just hungry, ya know!”

“When you’re hungry, you wake up Sanji. You don’t crash the ship into land in the middle of the night!” She screamed, and it ringed in Zoro's ears, the sharp pain in his head roared to life. He winced and rubbed the back of his head again. It didn't surprise him when he removed his hand that he saw smudges of red on his finger tips.

“Why didn’t you stop him?” He felt a gentle kick at his shin, turning to see Sanji staring at him. He had dark circles underneath his wide, tired eyes that bore straight through Zoro. The blond hair that covered his face illuminated with the light of his lighter. The flame flickered to life as he scanned around, taking in their surroundings. “What happened to keeping watch?"

  Zoro rolled his eyes, “I keep watch against threats, not our own crew. Besides, how was I supposed to know what he was going to do, curly?” He really wasn’t in the mood to fight with the bastard, especially not this early in the morning. He watches Sanjis eyes look at him, squinting like he could see through him, his eyes lingering on the hand Zoro had rubbed his head with. Zoro wipes his hand on the back of his pants, shrugging it off like he already knew what Sanji would say next. They remain silent, but everything in Sanji’s eyes looks like they’re begging a question. Zoro chest tightens as he bit back the pain in his head and heart.

“I’m fine, Cook. Nothing happened,” Is all he gives, turning away to look at the rest of the crew. "Drop it."

“I didn’t say a thing, Moss,” Is all he says in response, lighting a new cigarette as he listened to the crew begin to brainstorm a plan of action.

After a moment of arguing and tired deliberation, All adventures to the mysterious Buffalo Bay were cut off for the night. Even with Luffy’s master plan, they had no choice but to wait until sunrise with how dark it was. Even with Franky’s freak ass lights, they could only see dirt and grass for what seemed to stretch on for forever. Robin questioned if there was any land of meat at all, and the fact they were stranded settled amongst the group in a grim veil.

So much for a tourist destination, he thought. He had heard enough of the plan. He walked away from the group, settling on the edge of the grass to rest his aching head. As sleep began to overtake him as he droned out the sounds of his friends talking, he couldn’t help but to feel a pit in the bottom of his stomach. It was small, but large enough to annoy him and eat away at his steeled nerves. Something was really off about this island. As sleep washed over him, he could only think that that was just something he’d have to worry about later. 

A/N: AHHH finally!! I have been planning this fic in my head with multiple drafts and outlines and brainstorming for I think 2 months at this point, and finally feel pretty good about how to started this off.

I hope you enjoyed the prequel! I have the chapter one 75% done, I just need to edit it some more but expect it some time 11/28 at night. I hope to have it up and chapter two by Sunday! The next chapter will introduce the reader, i promise! also, future chapters will switch between perspectives. This will be a slow burn so stick around if you wanna see how it plays out! Feedback, love, and criticism is much appreciated ♡

[yandere-sins]

Not to be the monsterfucker y'all know and love but I was running around, clearing the map today a bit while I was waiting for a visitor and I found these absolute UNITS of skeletons (They are called Death Shepherds):

Like HELLO???? I don't even mean that sexually but WHY ARE THEY SO FREAKIN' HOT???? (Sorry for the crap resolution on the first pic, I forgot screenshot's existed and used my phone, but then I remembered.)

Also they were HUGE BOYS (yes, plural, there were 2. Like Gale certainly has BJ height at most next to them, they were MASSIVE CHUNKS OF SKELETON AND ARMOR!!) compared to everyone else, even my Dragonborn Tav, and they kept reanimating the ghouls (which weren't as pretty), so I told my friend who was obviously appalled by how infatuated I was with the skeletons really tickled my inspiration for them, and I was thinking...

Yandere skeletons that are just your scary dog privilege, protection squad.

(And no, we are not sexualizing this time, this is not Sans Undertale.)

You should have died that day you met them, but without any apparent reason, they didn't attack you. They just watch you with their holes for eyes, ever so slightly creeping closer. It's not until the ghouls sticking around them notice you that you get into grave danger. You see those hungry, violent creatures charge at you, their claws scraping over stone and dirt as they come for your life, when, suddenly, the sound of a sharp blade cutting through the air and then flesh fills the crossroad where your unfortunate encounter takes place.

The scream ripping from your throat gets stuck as the head of the ghoul that attacked you rolls up to your feet, a now bloody sword lowering again as you hear the other ghouls whimper—whimper!—before they take off the other way. Instead, the two skeletons stalk closer, their armor rattling as if they were still living, breathing beings going off to war. Instead, one bends down, inspecting you with soulless eyes, its hand coming up to cup your cheek as if concerned with the horror etched into your face.

There's no getting rid of them. After standing around for what feels like ages, you are as confused as you are increasingly in a hurry to get away. Once you take enough steps away to turn your back to them without fearing being struck down, you make a mad dash for your life, running until your thighs burn and lungs beg for a moment to breathe—only to hear their armor rattle behind you.

Honestly, purely from a travel companion point of view, you cannot ask for anyone better. They are swift and skilled in battle, scaring away anyone who dares to come close to you, and incredibly low maintenance, as they don't need food or shelter, really. But they aren't mindless goons either, and that's where things get crazy.

Because one night, they decide they deserve cuddles for all the good they do.

As if being watched by the darkness in their eye sockets while you sleep isn't bad enough, you feel the hard armor press to your back one night, an arm—clothed but mere bones—wrapping around you from behind, face nestling into the nape of your neck. You can kind of come to terms with them trotting behind you all day, never saying anything, never leaving your side. You might even be thankful for their help when they keep robbers and goblins at bay and you out of any harm's way. Hell, you let them watch you do anything like eat, sleep, and—despite feeling unwarranted shame rake its claws down your body—bathe. But this was getting out of hand.

It could have been okay if it had only been a moment, but learning that these creatures sought out contact this intimate freaks you out. And it's never just a moment of putting their souls at ease, no. Because no matter how much you wriggle, they won't let go of you, their scraggy fingers digging into your flesh. You'll have to wait for them to switch if you want to try and escape, leaving everything behind to make a run for it in the middle of the night. But in stark contrast to you, who ran into the darkness without the time to collect things, they have all their belongings on them if they pick up their swords, and they can run endlessly without worrying about aches and stamina, catching up to you quickly. You'll just hang your head and be escorted back to camp when you decide to stop panicking, only for them to take the opportunity to rearrange and occupy both sides of your bedroll as they please once you want to lay down for another sleepless night.

It's not like you can get rid of them. You can't take them both on and if one falls, the other will just bring it back to life in an endless circle. You saw it before; no doubt it will happen again. Even if you talk to them, ask them questions, or shoo them away, they don't budge and cannot answer, getting into motion again only if you do. The most they ever give you to indicate their thoughts is laying their head to the side as if they don't understand you. Or admire you. Or stare at you adoringly. Who knows.

Things turn from bad to worse when you decide to end your adventure and return home. The stares you receive when you enter the city you live in with your hulking, undead companions are mortifying. Some people faint on the spot; others scream. And the two try to fight anyone trying to squeeze past them, seeing them as possible enemies to you. They made sure your life will never be the same. Neither friends nor family can get close to you, and no one dares to talk with you, trade, or even look your way. These two are creating a life where you'll be separated from anyone but them, and you begin to doubt they are doing it unintentionally. You'll never be able to free yourself unless you find a group that manages to actually kill them both.

But then again, as you stare at the night sky, stars twinkling above you, you can't help but feel bad for the two boney companions hugging you and resting their hard heads on your chest. The same ones that are so scarily indifferent, yet swift and merciless in a fight, straight out of a horror story with blood splattered on their white faces and swords in hand. Yet, they pick up flowers for you on the way or clean your equipment while you're asleep, hunting food for you and preparing it so you can cook and eat it right away. They are like needy puppies, putting their heads on top of yours while you read the map or admire the scenery, or hold onto your sleeve as you walk through a dark cave so you don't get lost. Clearly, they have some lingering sentiment, searching for warmth and affection from you. There's nowhere for you to run or hide, as they have all the time and strength to go after you. Maybe you shouldn't have given them names, shouldn't have treated them kindly when you started to travel together. But all these regrets come now when it's already too late.

Because they will let nothing and no one take you from them, no matter who or what they have to fight, just so they can have you all to themselves.

Their pretty, little, alive darling with a heart that races so fast whenever they do anything, be it scare or love you. 

__________________

Bonus points for you somehow dying despite their efforts (traps and magic are a bitch to avoid), so they keep reviving you, and they either... 

a.) succeed, and now you owe them your life and have to live with the knowledge of what it's like to die and that they'll most likely keep reviving you, even if you die of old age. So you'll suffer eternally with them.

b.) don't succeed, and can't accept/don't understand you're dead, so they carry your body around, trying to show you all the pretty things they learned you like as you slowly decay in their arms until you are a mere skeleton like them, so they lay you to rest in a grave with them, coming alive only when someone tries to rob your grave before returning to slumber next to you. You three won't even be apart in death.

Like, sorry guys, that's my emotional support yandere skeleton beloved ♥

[thisdorkyblogthing]

In my frantic reblog fest last week I was suddenly struck by The Inspiration upon seeing this post again. The brain works in mysterious ways. Shout out to @midnottart for providing such gorgeous Brain FuelTM.

~2,400 words. Loki's real real bad at assassinating, thank god he's hot.

-

It was comfortable here, slipping through the shadows. Loki was a shadow. He crept along the edges, quieter than a mouse, tip-toed past sleepy guards. This was easy. Automatic. He'd been training for this for as long as he could stand on his own feet. He stayed quiet and sowed chaos where no one would spot him. It wasn't like the first time he came to the palace, dressed up like some rich asshole and walking through the front doors where he would be seen. He'd gone against his orders and tucked himself along the walls where it felt safest. He'd been instructed to mingle a little -- not too much, just enough to blend in, to look normal -- but he couldn't. He wasn't made to giggle at inane jokes and flirt with those he wished were dead. So he did what he knew best and stuck to the edges, listening and watching, eyeing all the potential entry and exit points, all the small, ignored spots that he could slip into and hide.

He hadn't planned for the king to be the one to spot him.

The artwork littered throughout the kingdom hadn't done the man justice, much to Loki's chagrin. No artist had been able to truly capture the light that shone behind his sky blue eyes, the richness to the golden hue of his skin and hair. They hadn't even attempted to capture his smile with all it's disarming warmth. They had opted for a menacing glower fit for the accomplished warrior that he was.

Loki would tell the others that he had changed his strategy once he'd grabbed the king's attention, seducing him to gain his trust and get entry to the most vulnerable areas of the palace, but the sad, sickening truth of it was that Loki had been the one to get seduced. The anger that had been instilled in him since birth had dissolved into a quivering lump of nothing once the king laid his lust-filled gaze on him. The heavy hand on his waist turning his rigid spine soft, his mind pliable to the suggestions whispered into his ear by a deep, husky voice.

He'd been ravished in ways he'd only entertained on his most lonely nights, pleasured so thoroughly that even as he snuck through the tight, near forgotten corridors of the palace he needed to pause for a moment and fight back the memories of it, his stomach clenching with want.

The shame of it made bile rise up the back of his throat. If anyone knew- he shook away the thought. No one would ever know. He'd do what he was meant to do. He'd kill the king and pave the way for his father to take the throne. And then his life would be his own, finally. That night would be a distant memory.

A pleasant, distant memory.

He found his way to the king's bedroom, taking his time to ensure no one would hear or see a glimpse of him. He'd take his freshly sharpened dagger and slash the king's throat as he slept, escaping just as quietly as he came, and no one would know until the king was long dead. Loki could envision it. The blood pooled around him like a sickening halo, the light dimmed from his pretty eyes. Assuming he would open his eyes at all.

All the doors were large and heavy, the ones that came directly between the king and everyone else even more so. Loki pushed it open slowly, just enough to squeeze through. The king's bedroom was as luxurious as Loki remembered, the heavy, detailed tapestries that lined the walls making the room feel more quiet and cozy than most of the others he'd seen. The fire pit in the center of the room still held glowing embers that dampened the chill from the air that poured through the broad, open archways that lead out to a balcony.

And at the other end of the room was the king. Thor. Naked save for a crumpled sheet wrapped around his waist and sprawled across the massive, soft mattress.

His traitorous mind conjured the memory of being laid down on it, the silkiness of sheets against his skin, how breathless he'd gotten as Thor loomed over him. His throat dried and he tried to shake it from his mind, taking a quick breath to refocus. He wore soft soled shoes to move silently over the tiled floor, making his way across the large room until he was just feet from the bed. He grabbed the handle of his dagger strapped to his thigh, pulling it free from it's sheath.

Another breath and then he climbed carefully onto the bed.

His muscles trembled with each slow movement, heart hammering like a drum in his ears. This was the moment his entire life had been building up to. His purpose for existing. The king was still, his chest rising and lowering in a slow, steady pace. His gloves were damp with sweat, his fingers cold and numb. He carefully straddled the king's hips, fighting back memory of the weight of his hands on Loki's hips.

He clenched his jaw tight and shook his head. Get it done quick and get out.

He leaned forward, pointing the blade at Thor's exposed throat. He studied the king's face, the fine lines and scars etched onto his skin, the dark lashes that fanned out over the delicate skin under his eyes, his coarse, golden beard, and the soft, pink lips peeking out from under it. Loki leaned in further, pressing the tip of the dagger under his chin as his eyes fluttered shut. He let himself come dangerously close, his lips brushing against Thor's. A tiny final indulgence, he told himself.

He lingered, their noses bumping as he thoughtlessly repeated the movement.

He froze as he felt a weight settle on to the back of his neck, lungs clenching as he cautiously opened his eyes to see that the king's face was unchanged. Eyes shut, mouth relaxed, breathing steady.

His mind screamed at him to slash at him and run, but he couldn't move. Thor tossed his other arm around Loki's waist, pulling Loki's body the rest of the way down onto his. Loki's breath left him in a shaky gasp, blood rushing through his head. The king finally opened his eyes, and Loki knew he was done. He'd so utterly failed at his one task in life, and he could only watch and wonder what would happen next.

"You know," Thor's voice rumbled, their lips still nearly touching, "if you want to assassinate someone, you shouldn't waste time kissing them first."

Loki's hand shook so violently that he nicked Thor's chin with the tip of the blade. He seemed unbothered.

"How long?" Loki eked out, unable to string together anything more coherent.

"I heard you open the door," he replied, "I would've figured you'd know I was a light sleeper, but I guess Laufey forgot to mention that."

Loki gasped, shivering in Thor's loose but unyielding hold.

Thor chuckled in a not entirely pleasant way, the arm around his waist leaving so he could pry the dagger free from Loki's clenched fist. He chucked across the room, the metal skittering across the floor.

"H-how long?" Loki whispered, barely able to suck in a full breath.

Thor began to knead the back of Loki's neck gently, his other hand slithering under his shirt to run up his spine, leaving goosebumps in it's wake.

"You have all those sharp features and that same paranoid look about you," he explained, "I knew as soon as I saw you skulking around at the ball."

Loki let his head drop to Thor's firm chest, spitting out a curse.

"You must have a pretty mother, Laufey's face looks much better on you," the king went on, fingers tangling into Loki's hair.

Loki shrugged, his voice wobbling as he replied. "I don't know, she left when I was small."

"Seems about right," Thor sighed, "there can't be much romance with a man that obsessed with power."

A sob broke free from Loki's throat, tears spilling from his tightly shut eyes. "I don't want to die."

"Hush, I'm not going to kill you," Thor said with a chuckle, "that was barely an assassination attempt."

"My father-" Loki rasped.

"Ah, him," Thor said with another sigh, "then it seems you must stay here with me then."

Loki finally lifted his head to look at Thor again. "You're going to imprison me?"

The king's mouth twisted, nose scrunching. "That's a bit of a strong word for it, but I certainly can't just let someone who would conspire against me go back to their fellow conspirators, could I?"

Loki was suddenly on his back, pressed down into the mattress by the weight of the king's body, feeling a tingle deep in his belly at the familiar position. The hand under Loki's neck kept his gaze focused on Thor's face, letting him see the heat rush to his face and color his cheeks.

"I could, perhaps, keep him under my watch, let him stay in my own bed even, especially if he tells me everything he knows about his father's plans."

Loki inhaled sharply, his mind swirling at the king's suggestion. He was dizzy, overwhelmed and exhausted all at once from the stress of the whole night.

Could he live here, with the one he'd always known as the enemy, and so thoroughly betray his father?

Loki clung to Thor's broad shoulders and tried to pull him down, too overwhelmed to even speak.

Thor dipped low, sealing his mouth to Loki's. Loki let out a muffled whimper, clawing at the king's broad, muscular back and clinging desperately to him. The hand pinned under Loki's back snaked around, pushing his shirt up higher, bunching the fabric under Loki's chin. As more of their skin touched the more frantic Loki became, the craving that had simmered within him since their night together bursting out of him with a fiery intensity. He bit down on Thor's lip and dug his nails deeper into Thor's back, his hips grinding down onto Loki in response.

Thor freed himself from the clutches of Loki's sharp teeth and lavished him with that smile that had so thoroughly ruined Loki in the first place. "I'll take that as a yes?"

Loki wanted the layers between them to vanish, huffing as he squirmed under Thor's weight. "Get inside me already," he ordered through clenched teeth, though the words sounded more petulant

Thor laughed, rolling his hips as he dipped his head to plant soft, fluttering kisses along his jaw. "Patience, my eager little magpie, you know I will satisfy you."

Loki whined, writhing hopelessly as Thor took his time running his hand over Loki's body. He slid down to Loki's exposed chest, lips and tongue finding their way to one of Loki's nipples, teasing at the sensitive flesh with the lightest pinch of his teeth. Loki's cock throbbed, a pitiful cry escaping from his throat.

Thor had just moved to the other nipple when the sound of heavy footfalls forced Thor to pull away. Loki's pounding heart leapt to his throat, desire somewhat forgotten as a handful of guards charged into the bedroom.

"Your Majesty," the guard leading the group said, breathless, "we believe someone might have entered the palace." His eyes fell on to Loki, lingering briefly before moving back to Thor.

Thor pushed himself up, hopping down from the bed without bothering to take the sheet along with him or making any effort to cover himself at all.

"You think someone might've snuck in?" he hissed, irritation clear in the expression he wore. He gestured to Loki, still sprawled out with his shirt hiked up his chest, his face hot with arousal and shame as their eyes nervously fell on to him.

"If he'd been more competent you'd be finding my corpse right now," Thor said tersely. The guards all moved at once towards him, sending Loki crawling up the bed while his heart fluttered with terror.

"Stand down, idiots," he barked, "I have him handled."

"My maids have thwarted more assassinations than you fools," Thor went on as he paced along the side of the bed, "you should be the ones scrubbing the floors, but I'm sure you'd manage to screw that up too."

The guards averted their gazes as Thor ranted, while Loki pulled his shirt back into place and drew his knees to his chest, feeling the need to look away from Thor too.

"You're all dismissed from duty, and I'm firing whoever trained you in the morning." Thor huffed, glaring when The guards hadn't made a move in the tense seconds that followed. "I said GO-"

With the clatter of armor and boots, the now-former guards all rushed to leave the bedroom, leaving the door open wide in their wake. Thor stood and watched, waiting until their footfalls became distant before turning back to Loki. He was still wound tight around himself, exhaustion at war with anxiety. Thor's face softened, looking out towards the balcony, the deep blue of night sky tinged lavender at the far-off horizon.

"We still have some time before the sun comes out," Thor said, "let's get some sleep and we can discuss things in the morning."

Part of Loki still burned with need to finish what they had started, but a larger part of him cried out for rest- and he knew for a fact that a few hours of sleep on the king's bed would feel more rejuvenating than a full night on that miserable little cot back home. Loki nodded, and with gentle hands Thor unwound Loki's arms from around his legs. He pulled Loki over to the edge of the bed, guiding him to his feet, and undressed him with a tenderness that once again sent Loki's heart fluttering. His knees trembled as his skin was exposed to the cool air and Thor's piercing gaze.

When he was stripped down to nothing and their eyes met, Thor leveled him with a small, warm smile, his hand coming up to clasp the back of Loki's neck. The heat and roughness of his palm made Loki's spine quiver with pleasure. A whine rose from his throat, eyelashes fluttering as arousal once more surged through him.

Thor chuckled, "isn't this more fun than stabbing me?"

[aewon]

what's after like?

sunghoon x f!reader genre: fluff warnings: none wc: 1,295

inspired by after like by ive!

for @bywons event! love u sruby

Sunghoon has been your best friend for as long as you can remember.

Your earliest memory is of 4-year-old you with 4-year-old Sunghoon, playing in the sandbox. 

A mean kid came by and ruined Sunghoon's sand castle. You didn't like seeing another kid cry, so you told the boy's mom. 

He got dragged out of the park, kicking and screaming.

You returned to the sandbox to see Sunghoon smiling, and that's when you introduced yourselves.

From that point forward, you and Sunghoon were inseparable.

You went through every stage of life together, even the awkward ones.

Of course, when puberty struck, you noticed Sunghoon becoming more handsome than you last remembered. 

Now, you didn't say anything.

Sunghoon was cocky in a playful way. You didn't want to stroke his ego further. 

This newfound attractiveness came with more people, especially girls, interested in Sunghoon.

You were 14 when he got his first girlfriend.

Not wanting to cross any boundaries, you stepped back, only interacting with Sunghoon when he initiated it.

That relationship didn't last, and before you knew it, Sunghoon became known as one of your school's playboys. Having a new girlfriend every month became a habit for him.

But you didn't judge. You didn't pry. You didn't do anything.

Sunghoon was still your best friend, and you didn't want to jeopardize that.

Today, you and Sunghoon are at your house, chilling. 

“How are you and Veronica?” You ask, messing with your hair in front of your vanity.

Sunghoon, lying on your bed, shakes his head before saying, “We broke up.”

Confused, you turn to him, “But I thought you guys were doing well?”

“It just didn't work,” he said, scrolling through his phone.

While Sunghoon has had several girlfriends, you haven't even had your first boyfriend. 

Being a senior in high school without even having your first kiss is kind of embarrassing. Then again, you've never been teased for it.

“Can you help me get a boyfriend?” You ask, taking the conversation in a completely different direction. 

“You don't need a boyfriend,” Sunghoon replies curtly, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

“I know I don't need one, but I want one. You get to have a million and one girlfriend, but I can't have a boyfriend?”

Sunghoon finally looks up at you, but the usual playfulness in his eyes is not present. Instead, he almost looks angry.

“Guys are no good. You don't need somebody who's just going to play with your heart.”

You don't know why you're suddenly annoyed, but before you can stop yourself, you snap, “What, someone like you?”

Sunghoon eyes widen, taking in your words. 

You turn away from him, immediately regretting what you said, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean that-”

Before you can say anything else, Sunghoon leaves your room. You call after him, flinching as you hear the front door slam.

Tears prick your eyes, and you bury your head in your hands.

Great, now you just ruined the one genuine friendship you had.

The next day at school, you try to look for Sunghoon, but he's nowhere to be found.

You ask his other friends, a group of boys Sunghoon met in his first year.

“I saw him this morning, but he seemed to be in a pissy mood, so we didn't bother him. Did something happen?” Heeseung asks.

You sit at the table, telling them what happened the day before.

“Y/N, don't worry about it. Technically, what you said isn't wrong. Maybe it sparked something inside Hoon,” Sunoo says, touching your shaking one.

The other guys look at each other like they know something you don't. As you're about to ask what's up, the bell rings.

You sigh, frustrated, but get up, leaving for class.

The rest of the day passes with no sign of Sunghoon. In your last period of the day, you hear two girls gossiping in the back corner.

“Did you hear about Sunghoon?”

They immediately catch your attention, and you subtly lean back to hear the rest of the conversation.

“What happened?”

“Younghee asked him out during lunch, and he rejected her. Can you believe it?”

Younghee? You know her, she's one of the most popular girls in your school.

She asked Sunghoon out, and he rejected her, you wonder why.

From what you know, she's a nice girl. There's no reason as to why Sunghoon shouldn't have at least given her a chance.

Once the bell rings and your day ends, you rush to the parking lot to see if you can spot Sunghoon's car.

You see it, but he's already speeding out of the parking lot onto the street.

You sigh. He must be avoiding you. You must've hurt his feelings.

Getting into your own car, you drive home with a sense of guilt plaguing your heart.

When you get home, you see Sunghoon's car parked by your house.

He's sitting on your porch, head in his hands.

You park in your driveway, get out, and walk up to him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, slinging your bag across your shoulder.

He looks up, his eyes red, like he'd been crying.

You immediately bend down to his height, “Hoon, what's wrong? Did something happen?”

He shakes his head, “No, I just needed to talk to you.”

You invite him inside, and the house is quiet because your parents aren't home.

He sits on the couch while you go to the kitchen for water. 

Once you sit down, Sunghoon starts speaking. 

“I'm sorry for running out on you yesterday and avoiding you today at school. I just had a lot on my mind.”

“Sunghoon, I should be the one apologizing. What I said was too much, and I didn't mean it.”

He shakes his head, “You don't need to apologize… you were right. I do play with girl’s hearts. I’m one of the guys I told you to stay away from.” 

“But Sunghoon,” you start, “You're so much more than that. You're kind and caring. You put others before yourself, especially me. You're one of the greatest people I've ever known. I don't know why your relationships don't work out, but they don't define you.”

“I know why they don't work out,” he says, “They don't work out because I'm the one who doesn't give any effort.”

“But why, Sunghoon?”

“Because they're not who I truly want.”

You scoot closer to him on the couch, putting your hand over his, “Then who do you want, Hoon?”

He pauses.

“You, Y/N. I want you. I've always wanted you.”

You don't register his answer for a second, the words running through your mind a million miles a minute.

“Me?”

Sunghoon nods, “It's always been you. I know I shouldn't have used those other girls, but… I thought I couldn't have you.”

“Sunghoon,” you coo, “You've always had me.”

You place a gentle hand on his cheek, turning his head to face you.

His lip wobbles like he's going to cry again.

You press your lips on his, stroking his cheek.

He kisses you back, turning his head to deepen it.

You've never felt something like this—this amount of happiness and warmth.

His hands make their way to your waist, holding you tightly.

You feel his tongue tease your bottom lip.

Opening your mouth slightly, you let him inside. 

The taste of him makes you feel weak.

You don't want to pull away, but you need air, so you do reluctantly. 

“Is this real?” Sunghoon asks, stroking your waist with his big hands.

You giggle, “It's real, Hoonie. You know what comes after like?”

He shakes his head.

“Love. I love you, Sunghoon.”

He smiles, his fangs, your favorite part of him, showing. “I love you more, Y/N.”

i will be updating mafs today so look out for that hehe