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moralesluvr · 2 days ago

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FABLE AND TRUTH 6 | billie eilish

୧ ‧₊˚ love was the law & religion was taught…. ↳ summary: you had always been raised on being poise, feminine, classy. but what was most important to your family was your religion— and it had embroidered itself into your daily life. but when it’s time to pick between feelings and faith, which will you choose? pairings & aus. billie eilish x fem!reader warnings. religious backgrounds & guilt | mature language | sexual content | substance use author's note. back to my regularly scheduled programming…trying to upload everyday. i’m so excited about this series and what’s in store; enjoy !! wc. 12k

✧ 4:26 am, thursday ✧

billie’s pacing felt like an endless, drunken mess, the soft padding of her socked feet on the hardwood floor the only sound filling her quiet bedroom. every step was wobbly, uneven, the thuds of harder steps sinking into the floor. her phone sat on the edge of her desk, lit up and buzzing as her thumb hovered over the call button, swaying, like even it didn’t know what it wanted.

her chest was tight, like she couldn’t get a full breath no matter how hard she tried.

“god, this is so stupid,” she slurred, a bitter laugh bubbling up and spilling out, “so fucking stupid.” her voice cracked halfway through, and her giggles fizzled out into silence.

she ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the ends as if the dull ache in her scalp could distract her from the mess inside her head. the fight played on a loop in her mind, the words that you had thrown at her cutting deeper each time she replayed them. i don’t want you. at all.

“fuck,” she muttered under her breath, stopping mid-step and leaning against her desk. her fingers curled around the edge, gripping it tight enough to make her knuckles bleed white. she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will the memory away, but it was no use.

because the thing was— she did know you. at least, she thought she did. she knew how your hands trembled when you were nervous, how your eyes darted around the room when you were thinking too hard about something, how you bit your lip when you were holding back words that you weren’t ready to say.

but now? now, billie wasn’t so sure anymore. had she been wrong about you? had she pushed too hard? maybe you were right— maybe billie didn’t know you the way she thought she did. and that realization was almost worse than the fight itself.

she tried to really think through how you were feeling, but everything was so unclear. you go out with her, kiss her, and then run off like nothing happened? she tried to hear you out, but things weren’t making sense. she felt like you were projecting, like there was something else underlying your irrationality, but she couldn’t pinpoint it.

oh, how sorry she felt. billie felt like she had did you wrong, like she should’ve been more careful, more understanding. but she knew that she couldn’t change what she did, what was said— it was all too late now.

she really liked you, if that wasn’t obvious enough. but given the way you placed your faith above anything else, the way that you carried yourself, she knew that deep down, you could never be interested in someone like her. and she couldn't blame you, she just didn’t fit into your lifestyle.

she didn’t mean to make you feel like she was wrecking your morals, but she couldn’t stop herself. her crush blossomed when you two talked, and even more when you didn’t. because then, her imagination could roam. she could think of a world where she belonged in yours, where you two were absolutely inseparable. she could pretty much ponder about whatever she wanted, and if she thought long and hard enough, she could convince herself it was real.

she had only met you shy of a week ago, and that was the bad part. usually, billie was more stoic, careful with what she said and did. she couldn’t let herself fall to easily, but it was like she was starstruck by you.

and she hated it.

she hated that everytime she got around you, she couldn’t get that stupid grin off of her face. she hated that when you touched her, even if it was on accident, her skin would light up, identical to the way her eyes did when she looked at you. she hated that your opinion was the only thing that mattered to her— but most of all, she hated how much she didn’t hate you.

because, in reality, she should. you hated her back, and that should’ve been a good enough reason for her to hate you, right?

wrong.

she wanted to chase after you, no matter how many times you’ve told her to stop, to let you go, pushing her away. she was drawn to you no matter what you did to her, and that’s what billie despised. whatever you did, said, however you acted— it was never enough to get her to stop.

but a little sliver of her understood. she knew deep down that it was just how you were— a faithful Christian and a girl who hardly believed, how was that going to work?

it was just the principle, she thought. it was just how things were going to be. but at the same time, she wished you would at least try. try to let her in— she wouldn’t hurt you, and she was certain that you knew that. you just weren’t brave enough to give it a try.

and then, she was angry.

angry at how you stormed off, after you were the one to kiss her. she was angry at how you pretended like everything between you was just friendship, but billie saw the way you looked at her when you thought she didn’t notice. yeah, she saw that.

she saw everything. and it made her even more upset, because how could you just walk away, after everything that had happened?

billie chewed on the inside of her cheek, her gaze flicking to the phone again. her stomach twisted at the thought of pressing that button, of hearing your voice again, of maybe making things worse. but she had to try. she couldn’t let it end like this, not after everything. it was too easy to give up, and she wouldn’t have it. she needed to make things right.

just call her, she told herself, but her fingers wouldn’t move. her head was loud, so loud, her thoughts a jumbled mess of regret and anger and confusion. she needed answers, needed to understand why things had unraveled so fast, why you had kissed her and then pushed her away so violently, all in the same breath.

and, if she was being honest with herself, she needed to know if there was still something left between you two. if the thread that had always connected you hadn’t completely snapped, if there was something worth saving.

billie took a deep, shaky breath and reached for her phone. her eyes hovered over your profile picture, your pretty smile illuminating her screen. she almost broke at that, and she shook her shoulders to try and shake it, her thumb hovering over the call button for a second that felt like an eternity. then, with a quiet exhale, she pressed it.

she held the phone to her ear, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure it would drown out the ringing. once, twice, three times— it felt endless. and just as she was about to lose her nerve and hang up, the call connected.

“…hello?”

your voice was soft, hesitant, and billie’s breath caught in her throat. she clenched her jaw, trying to steady herself, but the cracking in her hushed breathing gave her away. she could feel the tension on the other side of the line, and she almost spoke to break it, but then she heard a voice.

“no, dude— hang up!”

“shit.” was all she heard you say before the line went dead.

billie almost lost her mind at that, and she threw her phone harshly onto her bed, cursing underneath her breath. it didn’t take a genius to know who was talking in the background, obviously it was emma.

so your friends hated her, too? what else was new?

she sat down on the edge of her bed, her hands dragging through her hair, fingers curling at the roots. the sting in her scalp didn’t compare to the tightness in her chest, like her ribs were caving in on her lungs. her jaw ticked, her gaze locked on the phone lying motionless on the bed. it just sat there, mocking her, your contact still opened.

“unbelievable,” she muttered, the word heavy with frustration. her mind wouldn’t stop replaying it— emma’s sharp voice, that venom-laced “hang up.”

of course, it was emma. always hovering, always protective, like some unspoken barrier between you and everyone else. billie got it— she really did. emma was just looking out for you. but that didn’t make it any less maddening. it didn’t make the rejection hurt any less.

her knee started bouncing as she leaned forward, her elbows on her thighs, her head in her hands. every second of that call was burned into her mind, every pause, every breath, every muffled sound from your end.

why? why couldn’t you just talk to her? why did you have to listen to emma, let her speak for you like you didn’t have your own mind?

but then, in the quiet of her room, another thought crept in, unwelcome and sharp. maybe you don’t want to talk to her. maybe you really mean it when you say you don’t want her.

the thought twisted in her gut, and she stood up abruptly, pacing the room again like it would help, but it really didn’t. nothing did. the same questions looped in her head, over and over, no answers in sight.

she wanted to be mad at you, to hold onto the anger, but it didn’t stick. because she knew. she knew how you looked at her when you thought she wasn’t paying attention, she knew the way your voice got quieter, softer, when it was just the two of you. she knew the way your lips lingered just a second too long when you kissed her.

and maybe that’s why it hurt so much. because she couldn’t be making all of that up. could she? could she really be the only one who was feeling like this? was everything unrequited, or were you just afraid?

billie eventually stopped pacing, only because her legs were aching from doing so. her hands found themselves on her hips, her eyes fixed on her phone like it might come alive and give her the answers she was too afraid to ask for. but all it did was sit there, silent, just like you.

“why’d you kiss me if you didn’t want me?” she mumbled, her words thick, slurred. her voice cracked again, and she let out a shaky breath, “why’d you—” she started, but she couldn’t finish. her throat tightened, and she felt the tears spill over, hot against her flushed cheeks.

billie found herself sinking onto the floor, curled up in her own frame, trying to keep her emotions at bay and her swirling mind at rest. but she was too tired of thinking, too tired to try and make things seem rational. she was over it, over everything.

she thinks back to the night that she first met you, though everything’s kind of choppy. she thinks about when she told you that she didn’t really believe in getting drunk to solve your problems, or to pretend that things were better then they seem. but now, it seems like those morals aren’t as strong as they were.

she fumbled for the bottle of tequila she’d left on the floor, her fingers slipping a few times before she managed to grab it. the glass was almost empty, but she tipped it back anyway, the last dregs burning slightly as they slid down her throat.

“god, i’m such a fucking mess,” she said to no one, her giggles bitter and hollow. she wiped at her face with the sleeve of her hoodie, but it didn’t help much, because tears still streamed down her cheeks.

you were all she could think about. you, with your stupid soft voice and your stupid pretty face and your stupid everything. it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t fair that you got to live rent-free in her head while she was falling apart over you.

her phone buzzed again, and her head snapped toward it, her heart lurching in her chest. she scrambled to grab it, almost dropping it in her drunken haste. but when she saw the screen, her stomach sank. it wasn’t you. of course it wasn’t.

“why won’t you just talk to me?” she asked aloud, though you weren’t there to hear it. her voice cracking again, “why won’t you just tell me how you feel?”

sobs shoot through her body, and she’s sure this is the hardest she’s ever cried before. but she couldn’t help it. with the help of the alcohol that was coursing through her veins, plus the confusion and the fight, it was all she could do.

she cries until her eyes are too tired to form more tears. she cries until her eyes are drained and her throat is scratchy, and she finally sits up, her back slumped against the wall.

her chest heaved with each deep breath that she took, her hands trembling as she gripped the phone like it was the only thing tethering her to reality. the screen dimmed, and she stared at your name, willing it to light up with a call, a message— anything. but it didn’t. it stayed still, cold and indifferent, mocking her desperation.

“what the hell is wrong with you?” she muttered, her words slurred. she wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself or to you anymore, to be honest.

“why do you— why do you get to walk away like that? like you didn’t…like you didn’t kiss me first. so fuckin’ rude.”

her grip on the phone tightened, her jaw clenching as her tears dried, replaced by something hotter, angrier. she pushed herself off the floor, stumbling slightly as she paced the room again. her head was spinning, from the alcohol and the heartbreak, but her anger was sharp and steady, a beacon in her haze.

“you kissed me,” she said aloud, her voice louder now, more forceful, “you kissed me, and then you acted like— like it didn’t mean anything. like i didn’t mean anything.”

her fists curled at her sides, and she kicked the edge of her desk in frustration, wincing as the sharp pain shot through her foot. but it didn’t stop her, it didn’t even slow her down. she kept pacing, “you’re so fucking unfair,” she hissed, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. “you—ugh!”

she turned to her bed, grabbing the nearest pillow and throwing it across the room with all the strength she could muster. it hit the wall with a dull thud, but it didn’t satisfy her, didn’t even come close.

“why are you like this?” she yelled, though careful not to wake any of her neighbors up. her voice cracks again, “why do you get to mess with my head, make me feel like…like i’m not enough?”

her knees wobbled, and she sank onto the sheets of her bed, her hands burying in her hair. the anger drained as quickly as it had come, leaving her exhausted, empty. her thoughts spiraled, looping back to you, always to you. the fight, the kiss, the way your voice had trembled when you said her name.

and then— quickly, her mind wandered, unbidden, to the bar. to the way your lips had curled when you threw that sharp, biting remark at her. to the way your eyes burned with frustration, your voice rising in a way she’d never heard before. and— god, the way you had sworn at her, the first time you’d ever done that. it shouldn’t have made her feel the way it did, but nevertheless, it did. she hated how hot it was, how the word rolled off your tongue like a challenge, like a dare.

“billie, would you just shut the fuck up?”

yeah, she was whipped.

billie groaned, her hands dragging down her face as she pulled her navy blue covers over her frame. the ceiling spun above her, and she fluttered her eyes closed, but that didn’t really help. all she could see was you. your lips, your eyes, the way your hand had brushed hers whenever she was patching you up in her car. it had been such an innocent touch, but it had set her skin on fire, left her wanting more.

she cursed under her breath, her mind betraying her as it conjured up images of you. not the angry, distant version of you from the fight, but the softer, quieter version. the one who laughed at her dumb jokes, her teasing nicknames, it was all you. you who leaned closer than necessary when you spoke, who looked at her like she was the only person in the room, which always made her feel better, way warmer, even if your intentions were innocent. she thought about the version of you who kissed her like you meant it, like you wanted her as much as she wanted you.

her breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest as her thoughts grew more vivid, more dangerous. she could still feel the ghost of your lips on hers, the way your fingers had curled into her jacket like you didn’t want to let go. she wanted to believe that version of you was real, that it wasn’t just a figment of her drunk, desperate imagination.

“shit,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she threw an arm over her face, trying to block out the images, the feelings, but it was no use. they kept crawling back into her conscience, no matter how hard she tried to kick them out. you were everywhere, in every thought, every breath, every beat of her pounding heart.

she hated how much she wanted you. hated how, even now, after everything, she couldn’t stop craving your touch, your voice, your laugh. hated how her body betrayed her, how the memory of you swearing at her sent a shiver down her spine, made her stomach twist in that familiar, dangerous way. it made her whole body set ablaze, tingles and rushes of adrenaline tangled within her nerves.

billie’s arm slid off her face slow and choppy as she let out a long, frustrated sigh, staring blankly at the ceiling that made her eyes spin. her thoughts were a mess, tangling and then untangling, looping back to the way your voice sounded— sharp, angry, and utterly captivating. she hated herself for it, for how much she liked the way you challenged her, even when it hurt her.

she shouldn’t like it this much.

you were always so calm, so composed, so measured in everything you did. but at the bar, you were raw and unfiltered. the way your lips had pressed into a thin line, the way your eyes blazed with frustration— it wasn’t something she’d ever seen from you before, and gosh, it did something to her. it was like you had cracked open, showing her a side of you that no one else got to see.

“get it together,” billie muttered to herself, running a hand through her hair. but it was useless. her mind was already spiraling, drawn back to the memory of you leaning over the table, your voice low and heated as you argued with her. there was a fire in your eyes, a passion she hadn’t expected, and it had set something alight in her, too.

and that kiss. man, that kiss. she could still feel it, the way your lips had pressed against hers, hesitant at first but quickly growing bolder. it wasn’t soft or sweet— it was urgent, messy, like you were trying to pour everything you felt into it. like you were saying all the things you couldn’t put into words.

billie groaned, turning on her side as heat crept up her neck. she was drunk, sure, but even she couldn’t blame the alcohol for the way her thoughts lingered on you. on the way your hands had trembled slightly when you kissed her, the way your breath had hitched when she pulled you closer.

she couldn’t blame the alcohol, because this wasn’t the first time she had these thoughts.

her chest ached with memory, a mixture of longing and regret swirling inside her. she wanted to be angry, to stay mad at you for storming off, for listening to emma, for acting like she didn’t matter to you. but she couldn’t. because deep down, she knew that wasn’t the whole truth. she knew there was more to it, more to you.

maybe that’s what scared her the most. not that you didn’t care about her, but that you did— and that you were too afraid to let yourself feel it.

“you’re such an idiot,” she whispered out, though she wasn’t sure if she was talking about you or herself. maybe both.

her cheeks flushed, a baby pink hue finding its way onto her cheeks, playing on her features like some sick game. she was way past embarrassed, but she was alone, and it didn’t seem as bad as it really was.

without thinking, billie sank deeper within the cushioning of her bed, her fingers grazing over the hem of her gingham shorts, her breath hitching. she stopped for a second, trying to think hard about what she was doing, but the alcohol forbade her from staying on track.

eventually, her mind couldn’t help but wander, identical to the way her fingers ventured down her thighs, grazing them with her fingertips in a slow, vertical fashion, until she made it back to the scrunched waistband. and with swift movements, she slid her shorts off of her legs, pushing them through the covers until they found themselves on the floor.

billie took her sweet time, at first, just toying with the outer corners of her lacy black panties, pulling at the semi-circle flowers on the ends. she closed her eyes, letting herself drown in all the events of the night, the heated flirting, the way you had kissed her so passionately in the passenger seat.

she shouldn’t be thinking about you like this, not after everything. not after the way you walked out, leaving her standing in the middle of that bar, a mess of confusion and longing. but deep down, she couldn’t let go. she liked the fuel, like a moth to a flame, she was drawn to you. she couldn’t help herself.

she couldn’t help the way her hands moved to slide her underwear down to her ankles, kicking the article of clothing off and down to the floor, along with her discarded shorts. a sudden rush of cool air made her let out a small gasp, the breath low and sultry as she pulled the covers closer.

she wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but billie was always easier to turn on when she was drunk. and with recent events, it wasn’t helping the heat that was burning in her lower abdomen.

she traced a finger over her sensitive core, and then adding another, before pushing her slit open slowly, webs of wetness latching onto her fingertips as she let out a cool, choppy moan.

this was awful, so very wrong— to touch herself while thinking about you, especially now. but you didn’t have to know, no one did, and that’s the logic she used to satisfy her greed, her hunger for you, her constant need to see you, touch you.

billie spread her legs as she slipped her fingers inside of her warm cunt, the digits stretching out her walls sweetly as her thumb latched onto her clit, rubbing tight and firm circles against it. every thought of your pretty face, of your tooth-aching sweet smile, your precious eyes— that was what fueled her to keep touching herself, to feel those ground-breaking tingles against her exposed skin.

she bit her lip, her hips bucking underneath her satin sheets as her fingers thrusted quicker into her pussy, though her movements were choppy and uneven— it still felt good. she kept thinking about you, unashamed now, your face etched into her memory as she fought to keep her moans at bay.

she thanked the heavens that she didn’t have a roommate.

beads of sweat formed onto billie’s back as her head sinks into her pillow, little whimpers passing through her reddened, plump lips, her movements quickening as she felt a tight knot from in her stomach. images of you flashed against her mind, like gasoline to a fire, stoking up the adrenaline that was entangled in her veins. her fingertips curl and graze against her sweet spot, angelic moans falling thin and weak in the air as she moaned out, little syllables of your name rolling off of your tongue.

it was so bad, but it felt so good. she was needy, eager, and that was obvious in the way that her hips lifted off of her covers, her hands sliding in and out of her wet pussy, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt her orgasm crash over her like a warm wave. she panted heavily, her movements slowing down, along with her breaths.

billie placed her back against the sheets and let out a long, unsteady breath, her eyes finding themselves at the thought of what she just did. but she’s too drunk and too exhausted to care, and she figures that she’ll deal with the repercussions tomorrow. so she flips onto her side, pulls the covers over her, and falls asleep.

✧ 11:05 am, saturday ✧

the dorm was alive with energy, the kind that only comes on a lazy saturday morning when no one’s in a rush to be anywhere. sunlight streamed in through the half-open blinds, casting soft patterns on the carpeted floors as the group sprawled out in various spots around emma’s and your small room. naomi was perched cross-legged on your desk chair, spinning lazily while scrolling through her phone, one earbud in. jules was on the floor, back against the bedframe, fiddling with the frayed edges of her ripped jeans while flipping through some fashion magazine. oliver had claimed the beanbag in the corner, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he leaned back, relaxed. and emma— well, emma was laying half asleep underneath your covers, waking every once in a while when someone would say something funny, and then she’d lay back down.

you sat on your bed, legs tucked underneath you, careful not to disturb emma. your hands clasped around a warm mug of tea, a small comfort, the heat grounding you as your thoughts buzzed louder than the conversation around you. everyone was talking about their plans for the day— emma wanted to hit the library for an upcoming paper, oliver was trying to convince naomi to come with him to a record store downtown, and jules was debating between joining them or staying behind to binge a new show. after individual plans, though, jules insisted that you all hang out and go roller skating, something that the five of you liked to do pretty often.

“you’re quiet this morning,” naomi said, her voice cutting through the noise as she turned her gaze toward you.

your head snapped up, startled, and you forced a small smile, “i didn’t sleep well at all. just exhausted.”

it wasn’t a lie, you truly hadn’t slept well at all. after the bar fight with billie just shy of three days ago, you weren’t really feeling all that great. you hadn’t talked to her since, and it was both a relief and extremely nauseating.

you missed her, deep down. but you knew it was an absolutely horrible idea to reach out, and start this sickening process all over again. you were making small but victorious progress, and you really didn’t want to take any chances at ruining that.

after the fight, you woke up with a headache that made you feel like your forehead was going to split wide open. you threw up twice, your throat burning as you had finally wiped your lips, standing above the toilet and flushing it. emma had held your hair back for you, giving you tips on how to never throw up when hungover, at least for a lightweight like you. but if you were being honest, it didn’t really interest you to get drunk ever again.

you had prayed and did Bible study for what felt like an eternity. you didn’t hear God speak, but you figured it was because you had strayed off your path, so the fault settled on you. but you wrote in your notebook diligently, said your prayers thoughtfully, and skimmed the pages of your devotionals carefully. in due time, no matter what was going on, you were sure He would answer.

you even called loretta, as you had missed one of your calls when you fell asleep. she was just calling to check in, and she could tell even through the phone that you were doing at least a little better.

you had to admit, you were proud of yourself for getting back on your feet. or, so it seemed.

it appeared to everyone else like you had somehow become completely fine. and you had, for a solid…five minutes. but, of course, all the doubts and ‘what-ifs’ began to creep back in.

you weren’t sleeping well at all, which was the first issue. you’d stay up glued to your studies or scrolling on pinterest until your eyes were burning and your skin was sweating from the constant tossing and turning. and when you finally would fall asleep, you’d wake up with headaches or your limbs tense and unstretched.

you didn’t have the slightest bit of energy to do anything, either. you were doing just enough to keep A’s in all your classes, neglecting most of the extra work that your teachers assigned, only taking the extra mile when absolutely needed.

but you were masking it well. you took small victories when you could, although, you felt a little empty. you were tighter with your friends, hanging out almost everyday, mainly as a healthy distraction. but sometimes, all you really wanted, was billie.

you fought tooth and nail not to pick up your phone and call her. to spill every detail of your life out to her, to update her on how things were, even if they weren’t good. it was killing you that you couldn’t speak to her, even if it was a decision that you had made.

you didn’t like that you had the upper hand in this situation. you wished that it had fell back on billie, because although it was selfish, you really wished that you could have one less thing on your plate. deep down, you honestly wished that you had never met her at all.

you were doing fine until she came into the picture. though you knew she didn’t mean you any harm, you were picking up the pieces that she caused to crumble, making you spiral and act irrational, something you would’ve never thought about doing in the past.

but it wasn’t all her fault, you couldn’t put the blame on her. you were there too, and you had to take ownership of that, even though it was hard.

jules and naomi had raised an eyebrow at your statement like they didn’t quite believe you, but they didn’t press. instead, the both turned her attention back to oliver, who was now trying to win the both of them over with promises of coffee and pastries in order to go record shopping with him.

you tried to focus on their loud, happy chatter, to let it pull you out of your own head, but it was no use. your thoughts were stuck, looping in a way that made your chest feel tight.

you thought about two nights ago, about coming out.

the words lingered in your mind, heavy and sharp. it wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it recently, you had, a lot— but thinking about it and actually doing it were two very different things. and with naomi and jules sitting just a few feet away, laughing and joking like nothing was wrong, the weight of it all felt unbearable.

emma and oliver already knew, and were doing exceptionally well at hiding it. they understood that it was something you would share when you were ready, and they vowed to keep quiet about it. naomi and jules were wondering about the awkward tension that was taking place before, as you weren’t texting or calling pretty much at all. but emma just shrugged it off, covering by saying you were going through a rough time and just needed a second to breathe. which, wasn’t all that false.

you glanced at them, at the easy way they moved through the world, at how free they seemed. naomi, with her loud, unapologetic laugh and her wild hair that framed her face like a halo. jules, with her sharp wit and soft smile that could disarm anyone in an instant. they were your bestest of friends, and yet, the idea of telling them felt impossible.

it wasn’t that you didn’t trust them— you did, more than anyone. but there was this nagging voice in the back of your mind, whispering all the worst-case scenarios, how’d they react. what if they didn’t understand? what if they looked at you differently? what if it changed everything?

and then there was your faith, tangled up in all of it like a knot you couldn’t undo. you’d grown up in the church, surrounded by sermons and scripture and songs that painted the world beautifully, but it was in black and white. you’d been taught that love was normal to desire, it was healthy, but only when it looked a certain way, fit into a certain mold. anything outside of that was wrong, sinful, unworthy.

you swallowed hard, the taste of the tea suddenly bitter on your tongue. it wasn’t that you didn’t believe anymore— you still did, in your own way. but reconciling your faith with who you were, with how you felt, was a battle you fought every single day, and it was hard to keep on track, if you were being completely honest.

“you okay?” naomi’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you looked up to find her watching you, her head tilted slightly in concern.

“yeah,” you said quickly, forcing another smile. “just zoning out. i need to get out of this dorm room.”

she seemed to accept that, nodding as she turned back to oliver, who was now listing off his favorite bands like his life depended on it.

you let out a quiet breath, grateful for the reprieve, but still feeling the weight in your chest.

emma caught your eye from across the room, her expression soft but questioning. she always seemed to know when something was off, even if she didn’t say it out loud, which was needed sometimes. it was one of the reasons you’d told her first, days prior, in the quiet of this very room. she’d taken it well, better than you’d expected, and you were thankful for that. but even her quiet support wasn’t enough to silence the doubts that clawed at you.

the conversation in the room shifted again, this time to lunch plans, and you nodded along when someone suggested the diner a few blocks away, your group’s spot. looks were shared between all of you, and it seemed like everyone had remembered that night that billie came in. but when you smile, and assured them that it was okay to go, they carried on. but your mind was still elsewhere, caught between the fear of staying silent and the terror of speaking up.

you wondered what it would feel like to finally let it out, to let them see all of you. would it be freeing? or would it be just as heavy, just as hard, but in a different way?

“alright, you sure you’re good?” emma asked quietly, leaning closer so only you could hear.

you nodded, your grip tightening around your mug as you took your last swig, the warmth making you feel slightly more at ease, “i’m okay, really,” you said softly, “i’m honestly just… thinking. you know how it is.”

she didn’t push, just gave you a small nod of understanding before straightening up again, making sure to include you in the conversation between the five of you.

“alright, i really think we should just go skating,” jules advocates from her spot on the floor, closing her magazine, “we all love skating. why don’t we do that?”

“because naomi here is like bambi on wheels.” oliver snorts, pointing to the purple-haired girl, and she gifts him a well-deserved, playful slap to the arm.

emma nods, “i don’t think skating’s a bad idea, i’m down. everyone’s already ready, so, when are we heading out?”

“just need to get dressed, and then we can go.” you say, pulling the covers off of your frame, standing up and heading over to your dresser. you fumble around for something to wear as the four behind you discuss what’s for lunch, and things of that sort. you eventually settle on a jean skirt and a white top to match, with a baby pink cardigan thrown over it. you turn around and show the group your outfit, holding the pieces up to your body to provide something to the imagination, “this cute?”

“adorable!” naomi grins, and the others agree, too, and oliver gives you a sweet thumbs up, which makes you smile. you grab your phone off of your desk and slip into emma’s room, since you figure that changing in there would take less time than walking to the bathrooms.

you close the door behind you, and you look around for a second. emma’s room is a complete contrast to yours— cheetah printed blankets, posters of lana del rey and other singers hung up on her walls, right next to her deep red electric guitar and shelves of different sneakers and expensive handbags. she had a bookcase dedicated to anything but books, it was mostly filled with perfumes, fashion mags, and candles. her desk was a mess, makeup everywhere, and trash anywhere but in the bin, but you admired her style. it was an oddly warm comfort to you, the difference of style, and that’s what you always loved about emma— she was so unlike you, and yet, you two were the perfect set of friends.

you found her mirror and stood in front of it, slipping off your matching pj set and quickly sliding today’s outfit on. you fixed your hair and toyed with the ends, curling them around your fingers to give their already kinky state a little bit more bounce.

when you were satisfied with your appearance, you twisted the doorknob and stepped out, doing a little twist for the group as they all cheered. you felt more welcomed than ever— appreciated, accepted, and you wanted it to stay like that, like how it always was.

but with this huge secret (although it wasn’t so huge, because emma and oliver knew), you didn’t know how long this would last. you were going to latch onto it as long as you could, hoping and praying that when the time came, you would still be loved as you were, before everything went down.

you knew your best friends, they wouldn’t really care all that much, but it would just be so unexpected coming from you. were you ready for that, truly? were you ready to live out the things you had always felt? you weren’t too sure now.

you walked back over to your desk, slipping your nearly dead phone into your bag as you leaned against the edge of it, trying to find some sort of calm. the room was filled with chatter, naomi arguing with jules over whether or not they should try the new sandwich spot downtown or stick to the diner, and oliver chiming in with some random fact about artisan bread that seemed nice to try. emma was scrolling through her phone, half-listening but still throwing in a laugh here and there. it was so normal, nothing out of the blue, but you felt this strange ache in your chest.

you thought about how emma and oliver already knew that you were a lesbian, how it had felt like peeling off a bandage and exposing something raw when you’d told them just a few days ago. emma had hugged you tight, whispering that she was proud of you, and oliver had just nodded, his usual soft, understanding smile on his face, cracking jokes back and forth with you. but then, that night after billie called you, it all hit you like a wave.

you didn’t mean to hang up so abruptly. you wanted to hear her out at first, but you quickly realized that it wasn’t a good idea. emma had urged you to hang up, and you did with no hesitation, suddenly realizing that answering in itself was a mistake.

it wracked your brain for the rest of the night, and it bothered you badly that you couldn’t talk to billie. you felt like at least one more conversation could help, but it was too late for that, and you had to put yourself first. so you put your phone up for the night, falling asleep not to long after emma did.

and then, you cried.

but not about billie. about your friends.

it wasn’t even that you were scared of rejection. you knew naomi and jules loved you like family, and you couldn’t imagine them turning their backs on you. but it was the shift you feared— this tiny, delicate balance being thrown off, even if just for a moment. you hated being the reason things felt different. you hated the idea of anyone looking at you like you were someone else now.

your fingers toyed with the strap of your bag as the thought settled in your mind like an unwelcome guest. it wasn’t fair, really, how much weight this little not-so-big secret carried. it was supposed to feel freeing, like shedding an old skin that didn’t fit anymore, blossoming into something new, and much more beautiful. but instead, it felt like walking on a tightrope, praying you wouldn’t fall and drag everyone else down with you. you couldn’t let that happen again.

emma’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the moment. “you okay?” she mouthed, her brows knitting together slightly. it’s all she seemed to ask now, but you appreciated the sentiment. you nodded quickly, offering a small smile to reassure her, but the way she tilted her head told you she wasn’t convinced. she didn’t push you, though, she just gave you that look that said i’m here when you’re ready.

and you wanted to be ready, for all of it. for the conversations, the questions, the vulnerability, all the jokes that would be cracked. you wanted to be able to say everything with confidence, to look at yourself in the mirror and feel like you weren’t hiding anymore, like you were proud to be just the way you were. but there was still that small, stubborn part of you that whispered, what if you’re wrong? what if this isn’t who you’re supposed to be? is a phase, something that will pass when the time comes?

you pushed the thought aside, swallowing hard as you forced yourself to focus on the present. the laughter in the room, the warmth of your friends, the way everyone was bickering about oliver’s odd knowledge about sandwiches and bread. you let yourself laugh, even if it felt a little hollow, because you were sure, slowly yet surely, it would make you feel better.

you’d hold onto this moment, this fragile, fleeting sense of normalcy. you’d hold onto it for as long as you could, and when the time came to tell them, you’d trust that naomi and jules would still love you, still see you the same way that they always did. at least, that’s what you prayed for. and lately, that was all you could do.

“okay, so are we ready to go, or are we gonna argue about sandwiches all day?” emma said, rolling her eyes with a grin as she grabbed her keys off of your nightstand, standing up to dust off her wide legged jeans. naomi and jules were still in a heated, albeit playful teasing sesh against oliver, and he was just sitting on the arm of the couch, shaking his head at them.

“for the record,” he interjected, raising his hand like he was in a courtroom, “the sandwich shop idea isn’t bad. but if we’re talking about lunch and activities, why not just roller skating now? we can grab lunch and still get dinner at the diner. there’s that rink a few blocks from here, and they’ve got a food court with, you know, options. not just flavorless-ass bread that’s probably already stale.” he gave a pointed look at naomi and jules.

“skating?” you repeated, “okay, yeah, i’m down.”

“me too,” emma said, already grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder, “besides, i can’t wait to see naomi bust her ass out there. wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen that, hm?”

naomi gasped, clutching her chest dramatically, “okay, excuse me! i have impeccable balance, so thank you very much.”

“uh-huh,” jules snorted, already pulling her jacket on, zipping it up as she let out a mocking laugh, “we’ll see how long that lasts when you’re out there, bambi.”

the group laughed as you all filed out of the dorm, everyone grabbing their belongings as you closed and locked the door behind you, and then the walk started. emma, jules and naomi walked up front, while you and oliver retreated to the back, following close behind them. you heard easy banter filling the air as you all walked outside, stepping out into the cool air, though the warm sun gave hints of a warmer afternoon.

“how are you feeling?” oliver asked you as you walked, his eyes glancing down to meet with yours. they were glossed over with concern, but it was out of love, so you spoke honestly.

“good, overall, i think. i really have no complaints— i just…you know. i get into my own head sometimes.”

oliver nods at you, “i get that. just remember, i’m always here if you need something, ‘girlfriend.’” he nudges your arm on that last part, and you shake your head at him, though you can’t help but laugh.

the walk to the skating rink was a short one, but it was peaceful. occasionally, everyone would turn around and talk, and jules would sometimes snap a picture of a cool tree or pretty flowers on her digital camera. you stayed toward the back of the group, letting their energy pull you along while you kept to your thoughts.

when you all arrived at the rink, the hum of retro music and the buzz of people skating hit you instantly, accompanied with the smell of pretzels and store-bought pizzas. the place had an old-school charm— bright neon signs, colorful lights that reflected off the fresh, polished floor, and rows of skates lined up behind the counter as employees waved the five of you in.

“this is gonna be so fun!” naomi cheered, her face lighting up as she clapped her hands together. she then looked at emma, who seemed all but convinced that naomi would stay on her feet, “and just for the record, i’m gonna be the best one out there. no questions asked.”

“uh huh, yeah— you’re really committed to this narrative, huh naomi?” emma teased as she slipped a ticket across the counter in exchange for her inlines, “we’ll see how you do, but don’t cry when i’m doing laps around you while your ass is super-glued to the floor.”

everyone laughed at that as they grabbed their skates, and you were last to do so. you grabbed a pair of quads and took a seat on the bench, slipping them onto your feet carefully. emma was already up and skating around, practicing whatever tricks that she had hidden up her sleeve.

whenever she had to clear her head, she’d go to the rink— something she had been doing since she was younger. that’s where you learned how to skate, from emma’s constant visits to your rink back home, and it felt like that you had a hobby you could both share.

when everyone was ready, the group shuffled out onto the rink, the polished floor gleaming beneath the flashing lights. it was awkward at first, your legs feeling wobbly and unsure as you gripped the railing for support. it wasn’t that you didn’t know how to skate, it had just been so long, but you picked up your pace when emma and jules grabbed both your sides and forced you out onto the floor.

“you got this!” jules had said, and then you three were off, hands laced within one another’s, skating rhythmically to some old song that was playing on the speakers above.

“look at you!” emma called out, gliding up beside you with ease after you and jules had broke off, skating at your own pace. you were twisting and turning like you usually did, the art becoming more comfortable to you, and you were enjoying yourself. “you’re not even holding on to the wall anymore! i’m so proud.”

“yeah, yeah,” you said, laughing as you pushed off your right food little harder, gaining more speed with each loop around the rink, “just don’t jinx it.”

everyone was pretty much skating alone now. you were doing your usual thing, crossing your feet and gliding side to side to the music, which was always fun for you. emma was on a roll— skating backwards between crowds of people, hopping on her feet, taking her party tricks to the extra mile. jules and oliver were racing, as they always did— and of course, jules won, also as always.

meanwhile, naomi was loudly declaring herself the queen of skating, much to jules’s amusement as she stumbled and nearly fell. you tried to contain your laughter, but you had to admit, it was pretty funny the way she swore up and down she was the best out of the group, though she hadn’t even found herself making a full lap around the floor yet.

you were skating peacefully as a new song came on, something by stevie wonder, which you liked. you started to slow down and accommodate to the blue-sy rhythm, but then, as you rounded the far side of the rink, your eyes caught a figure near the edge. your breath hitched in your throat, your heart dropping to your stomach. it was billie.

God, could you ever get away from this girl?

she was sitting on a bench, tying her skates with that familiar furrow of concentration on her face. her hair was pulled into one of the messiest buns you had ever seen, even for her, though a few pieces effortlessly accented her face around the sides. she was wearing a loose sweatshirt and a pair of shorts so long that you couldn’t tell if they were supposed to be like that. but, to your surprise, she was alone.

panic flared in your chest, and if you weren’t as comfortable with skating, you were sure that you would’ve fallen. your mind was racing as you quickly turned your head away, trying to keep her from seeing you. the last thing you needed was another interaction, another moment where she could belittle you, looking at you with that stupid grin that never seemed to leave her face, like she was always teasing you for something.

you skated past her as casually as you could manage, your heart pounding in your chest. you felt like you were going to burst, like your breath was stolen right out of your lungs. you heaved as you looked in front of you, where your friends were still laughing and teasing each other, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in your stomach.

you felt sick.

you risked a glance over your shoulder, relief washing over you when you saw that billie hadn’t noticed you. she was still focused on her skates, completely oblivious to your presence. which, you definitely wanted to keep it that way.

you tried to focus on your friends, on the way naomi shrieked as she nearly toppled over again, after falling nearly ten times already, but she was saved only by oliver’s quick reflexes as he grabbed her arm.

“you owe me for that,” he teased, smirking at her as she tried to compose herself, tucking a strand behind her ear.

“whatever, i was totally fine. i could’ve gotten back up.” naomi huffed, wiping a few particles of dust off of her shirt as she stood up.

“sure you were,” jules said, rolling up beside her, her grin wide and mischievous, “next time, maybe we should get you those little kid trainers, you know, the ones with wheels on all four corners? seems pretty fitting if you ask me.”

“you’re all so mean to me!” naomi cried dramatically, though the laughter bubbling in her voice gave her away. she didn’t mind that she couldn’t skate all that well, truthfully, but it was always fun to mess around for a while.

the lightness of their banter helped ease some of the tension in your chest, and for a moment, you let yourself get swept up in it. emma had started a race with jules now, the two of them zipping around the rink in an uncoordinated blur, while oliver stayed back with naomi, coaching her like a patient older brother, though she still wasn’t quite getting it.

you skated in slow, deliberate circles, careful not to look in billie’s direction again. you didn’t want to tempt fate, not again.

but it wasn’t just fear that made you keep your distance. it was the weight of everything you’d been trying to leave behind— the fight, the tears, the way her voice still lingered in your head, sharp and biting, but also soft in ways that made your chest ache.

you couldn’t reminisce on that though. you had to stay focused on what really mattered, and it wasn’t billie. it was you, your happiness, your walk with God, and everything else that surrounded that. you didn’t have time to pick more stupid fights with her, when she would not and could not ever understand where you were coming from.

“you’re doing great, by the way,” oliver called out, snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts. he had left naomi with emma, though her coaching wasn’t as gentle. your eyes immediately find oliver’s as he skates with you, and you cock your brow at him, still nervous.

“what…what do you mean?” you ask.

oliver rolls his eyes, “i saw her. the others didn’t, and don’t worry, i won’t snitch. but just ignore her, for your own sake. you deserve nothing but peace right now, so don’t let her disturb that.”

“right, yeah.” you nod, but it sounds weak, even to your own ears. you’re just moving, fighting for a distraction, focusing on finding a steady rhythm again. the music shifted to something slower, softer, and the lights dimmed slightly, casting the rink in a warm glow. couples started pairing off, holding hands as they skated together, little holographic, neon hearts sliding against the wooden floors.

“ugh, so cute it’s disgusting,” emma squeaked, skating up beside you and nodding toward one particularly affectionate pair to your right. they were adorable, two girls holding hands and skating identically together. however, it made your chest cave in when one girl was wearing bright, pretty soft hues, while the other was wearing deep blacks and purples, a huge contrast to her girlfriend.

it felt like you and billie, in a way, and you almost gag at that. it seemed like everything reminded you of her, and you didn’t know how much longer you could take it.

“don’t be a hater,” jules chimed in, coming up on your other side, an easy distraction. you ease up as she teases emma, “maybe you’ll find someone to hold hands with one day, em. miracles happen, i’ll make a phone call to the angels for you, see what they can do.”

“very funny,” emma said, rolling her eyes. “i’m holding out for someone who can actually keep up with me, thank you very much.”

“wait, what happened with that guy i saw you with?” you questioned, hoping that the conversation would flow in a way that would make you forget about seeing billie.

“oh gosh, where do i even begin,” emma dragged on, and that’s when you knew that your plan was in motion. she babbled on about how he was a player and had no common sense, and something about how she didn’t like that he had bed covers with patrick mahomes’ face on it. which, you really didn’t know what that had to do with anything, but you just let her talk.

but then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw her again. billie.

she was on the rink now, skating slowly, her movements a little awkward like she wasn’t used to it. she was smiling, though— a small, quiet smile that tugged at something deep in your chest.

a smile that you missed.

you swallowed hard, your heart pounding loudly in your chest all over again. she still hadn’t noticed you, thank God, but just seeing her was enough to unsettle you completely, working your nerves right back up.

“you good?” emma asked you, nudging your shoulder lightly.

“yeah,” you said quickly, though your voice was too high-pitched to be convincing. you cleared your throat, forcing a smile out as you turned a corner, “just... distracted, i guess.”

emma tilted her head, studying you for a moment, but she didn’t ask anymore questions, “well, let me know if you need a distraction from your distraction.” she said with a wink before skating off to join the others.

you stayed where you were, finding refuge in a wall, letting the others drift ahead. your gaze flickered to billie again, despite yourself, and you wondered— just for a second— if she was thinking about you, too. if she had seen you.

but then she turned, skating toward the far side of the rink, and you quickly looked away, pulling your hair over the side of your face in hopes that she wouldn’t recognize you, if her eyes had somehow found their way to make out who you were, even though you were on the complete opposite side of the roller rink.

you skated to the edge of the opposite wall, trying to put as much distance between yourself and billie as possible. your heart was still pounding, your thoughts racing as you fought the urge to look back over your shoulder, to get one more glimpse, even though you knew you’d regret it.

so you didn’t. because the last thing you needed was for her to notice you.

but then, a sharp pang of anxiety hit you. what if she did see you? what if she thought you were alone, vulnerable, still hung up on everything that happened between you two? it felt irrational, but the idea of her pitying you— or worse, thinking she still had some sort of hold over you— made your stomach churn. you couldn’t let her have that type of victory over you. you were in control, not her.

your eyes scanned the spot that you were in, and then you spotted oliver across the rink, helping naomi wobble along the railing. relief washed over you— oliver was the perfect shield, the one person who could make you look completely unbothered and perfectly fine. after all, he was supposed to be your ‘boyfriend’ now, wasn’t he?

you pushed off the wall, skating toward him as steadily as you could.

“ollie!”

he turned around when he heard your voice, his face lighting up when he saw you, “hey, what’s up?”

you skated up beside him, lowering your voice so only he could hear, though your request wasn’t all that abnormal, “okay, this is going to sound weird, but… can you hold my hand?”

he blinked, tilting his head, “uh, sure? what’s going on? is it…?”

you hesitated, glancing over your shoulder to make sure billie was still on the far side of the rink. you looked back at him, “yeah,” you whispered quietly, “and i just— i don’t want her to think… you know, that i’m…”

“still hung up on her?” oliver finished your dead sentence for you, his expression softening with understanding.

you nodded, biting your lip, “i just need her to see that i’m fine. better than fine, even. like… totally over it.”

he smiled gently, reaching out to take your hand. “yup, fake dating duty. got it.”

you felt a small wave of relief as his hand slid into yours, warm and steady. oliver gave it a reassuring squeeze, and you squeezed back, grateful as ever for how quickly he reacted, how eager he was to help you with no complaints.

“you owe me for this, by the way.” he teased as he started skating beside you, his tone lighthearted, and you knew that it was only jokes.

you snorted, “yeah right. just put it on my tab.”

naomi shot the two of you a curious look as you passed her idle spot next to the wall, “okay, wait, are we holding hands now? did i miss something?”

“we’re practicing for the couples skate,” oliver said smoothly, his tone so casual that even you almost believed him. it was a good lie, one that would hold over your little secret until it forced itself out. and now, now wasn’t really the time for it.

naomi narrowed her eyes, but jules came barreling toward her before she could press further, their laughter echoing across the rink.

you felt a little more at ease now, skating alongside oliver, your hand laced within his. your heart still raced every time you thought about billie, about everytime that you saw her around the rink. but having him there grounded you, reminded you that you weren’t alone.

you cast one more glance toward the far side of the rink, where billie was still skating. her focus was elsewhere, thank God, it was on anything but you.

you exhaled softly, squeezing oliver’s hand again. he looked down at you, raising an eyebrow, “feeling better?”

“yeah,” you said quietly through a smile, “thanks, ollie.”

before he could pay your statement back with a ‘you’re welcome’, you hear jules, naomi, and emma all agree that it’s time to head out and grab some food. they had apparently decided that eating at the diner for lunch was a better idea, saving time to possibly go downtown or go somewhere for dessert and take pictures. so, you and oliver followed accordingly, hopping off the floor and returning your skates to the counter.

as everyone slipped on their shoes and grabbed their things, jules went right back to her teasing of naomi, “so, did you fall?”

“i’m too hungry to argue with you.” she laughed, sliding her tote bag onto her shoulders as the group made their way outside, walking to the diner.

౨ৎ

the diner felt like a sanctuary at first, a bubble of warmth and laughter that protected you from the turmoil brewing just beneath your skin. the clatter of plates, the hum of the jukebox playing some old 50s song, and the low din of chatter around you all made it easy to pretend, just for a little while, that everything was okay, even if it was nothing but that.

you were wedged between emma and the wall in your usual spot, picking at the remains of your burger while naomi recounted some story about her boss at work, who she thought was all types of dreamy. oliver and jules were hanging on her every word, laughing at all the right moments, and emma was chiming in with her usual quick-witted commentary. it should have felt normal, comforting, just like how it was in your dorm this morning. but it didn’t.

you couldn’t stop replaying the moment at the rink. the way billie had looked— so familiar, yet so distant. and, to be honest, it kind of bothered you.

it hurt that you would have to see her around so much, way more often than you would like. it’s like all your hangout spots were hers too, and it was inevitable to get away from her. but you had to try, at least— try and heal from your wounds, try and forget everything that had happened and turn a new leaf. and you knew it would be hard, but you were going to work on it, because you owed it to yourself. you owed it to yourself to be happy.

you were about to take another bite of your burger when the bell above the door jingled, and your heart dropped. you didn’t even need to look to know who it was. the shift in the air was enough. you had felt it before, back at the bar, and earlier in the roller rink. you knew it was her.

but of course, you being you, you looked anyway.

and there she was.

her presence was like a punch to the gut, a mix of anger, longing, and something else you couldn’t quite place. she looked almost the same as she had at the rink— disheveled, guarded— but her eyes were sharper now, the playful nature of skating long gone.

your stomach twisted and screamed as her gaze landed on your booth, just to your luck. her jaw tightened, her lips pressing into a thin line as her eyes locked on you.

“oh no,” emma muttered under her breath, her fork pausing mid-air, “are you serious?”

“is that…?” jules started, but oliver kicked her under the table, shooting her a warning look, and her lips pursed quiet at that.

you quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in the fine lines of ketchup bottle on the table, but it was too late. billie was already walking over to you, her strut quick and strong, like she already had what she wanted to say and do in mind.

“can we talk?” she said once she reached your table, her voice low and tight, standing awkwardly next to your booth.

you placed your head in your hands as everyone went silent, their eyes darting between you and billie like they were watching a live fight scene. and honestly, you knew that’s where it was heading.

but there was nothing you could do. you couldn’t escape, she was here now, so you might as well engage, because there was no other way out of this.

“you want to talk here?” you asked, your voice sharp.

“no,” she clarified, crossing her arms over her chest, “outside.”

“you don’t have to go, love.” oliver said, quiet, but loud enough to where billie could hear. he knew that you needed this— a way out, a cover-up, even if she wasn’t buying it right this second. you felt his hand brush against yours under the table for added effect, though he was unsure if billie could see you two.

but you knew you couldn’t avoid this forever. so, with a heavy sigh, you slid out of the booth, avoiding everyone’s longing and confused looks as you started to walk, following billie out of the door.

the late afternoon air hit you like a slap to the face, much like the way billie had strutted in the diner, demanding a piece of your time like she was the one that owned it. she stopped a few feet away from the entrance, her back to you as she ran a hand through her hair.

“okay, what do you want, billie?” you asked, crossing your arms to mirror her, “i don’t have time for this, be quick and get straight to the point. i don’t even want to be talking to you right now.”

lie.

she turned to face you, her eyes dark and stormy, “honestly, i just want to know why. why you couldn’t just talk to me. why you couldn’t just tell me what was going on, instead of doing all…of this.”

“are you serious?” you snapped, your frustration bubbling quickly to the surface, “are you seriously going to ask me this question again like i haven’t already answered it? what else do you want me to say to you? i told you to leave me alone, and i’m not so sure why this can’t get through to you, so i’ll say it again. leave. me. alone!”

her jaw tightened, and she took a step closer to you. her eyes were glossed over with tears, but you didn’t care at all. you were sick of her acting like she was the victim, like you hadn’t asked her countless times you just leave you be. at this point, she was just harassing you.

“i-i’m sorry…i know, but…i feel like you’re not telling me everything, y/n. i feel so deeply that there’s something you aren’t telling me, like i’m not getting the whole wide of this story…i just, i needed to know—“

“i don’t owe you explanations about my own life,” you shot back, “why can’t you just give up on me, like you did back at the bar? why can’t you just let me live my life without showing up at the most random times, without making me feel like i’m the one that’s crazy, huh?”

“give up on you?” billie repeated, her voice cracking. she was full on tears now, “do you have any idea how hard it was to leave? how much it killed me to walk away?”

you flinched at the raw emotion in her voice, but you didn’t back down. she couldn’t phase you now, “if it was so hard, why did you do it?”

“because i didn’t know what else to do!” she shouted, her hands balling into fists at her sides, “you wouldn’t let me in, and i was fucking drowning. i couldn’t keep—”

“couldn’t keep what?” you interrupted, stepping closer now, your own anger flaring, “couldn’t keep dealing with me? with my problems? sorry i wasn’t perfect enough for you, billie, but you knew what you were getting yourself into, it was obvious.”

“that’s not what i meant,” she said, her voice quieter now but no less intense, “and you know it. you know that’s not how i felt about you.”

“then what did you mean?” you pressed, your heart pounding in your chest, “i mean, do tell billie, because i’ve been waiting for this. tell me what you really wanna say, because you’re doing nothing but wasting my time.”

she opened her mouth to respond, but then her gaze flicked behind your back, back toward the diner. you followed her line of sight and saw your friends watching from the window, their faces a mix of concern and curiosity, leaning in so close in hopes that they could hear what was going on.

billie’s expression shifted, her anger giving way to something softer, something almost vulnerable, like she really was going to tell you how she felt. but just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by a mask of indifference, confusion, of something unsure.

“you know what? forget it,” she said, shaking her head at you, “this was a mistake. you were right.”

and then she turned on her heel without a word, and started walking away, her boots echoing against the pavement as she started towards her car.

“billie, wait,” you called after her, your voice trembling, but it was no use.

she didn’t stop. she didn’t even look back, and for the first time, you really wish she did.

you wanted to hear what she had to say, but you weren’t ready. you couldn’t handle all of that, but you thought you could at least try. but now, it was too late.

it was always too late.

you stood there, frozen, your fists clenched and your chest heaving as you watched her disappear into the driver’s seat of her car, cranking up the engine and speeding out of her parking spot.

your friends were still watching from the window, but you couldn’t bring yourself to face them. instead, you turned around and leaned against the wall of the diner, your head falling back as you stared up at the sky.

you wanted to scream, to cry, to do something about this, but all you could do was stand there, the weight of her words and your own anger pressing down on you like a weighted blanket.

and then, you heard the door to the diner swing opened, a voice pushing out into the empty air,

“i promise you, despite as much as you think you are, you and billie are far from done.”

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haechanhues · 3 days ago

Text

chapter seventeen : first kiss

*written*

word count : 1.3k

warnings : not proofread. No means no kind of thing happening. Not much else - a few implications to sexual themes (again - part of the story as a whole).

You swallow, the strobe lights overwhelming as it chokes and fills you with the sort of anxiety you get purely from the lack of personal space. Your hand is in Yeri’s who is a lot more cheery than you, keen to pay for the colourful drinks she’s been yearning for all week.

At the count of three and the encouraging smile of the cute bartender, the pair of you tip the shots back, blood and alcohol rushing towards your brain like a stampede.

It’s when you’re downing a couple more glasses, a lot more flushed and uncaring of the once overwhelming atmosphere do you feel arms lock around your body and a chest pressed against your back.

Awkwardly you turn towards the intruder, only to relax when you see that it’s only Mark, “Didn’t know you were coming out today.”

“Neither, Joy and the girls made me come,” You mutter and Yeri smiles politely at Mark in turn.

Mark’s smile is charming and although it doesn’t work at Yeri in the way it works on other women, it still softens her up just a smidge, “Hey, how are you?”

“I’m all good,” Yeri smirks, making eyes at the cute bartender before returning her attention to the two of you, “Make sure you return her. The girls won’t like it when I get back to them without her.”

Mark’s hold turns tighter as his face angles into the crook of her neck, his scent brushing against your body like an embrace. He smells so delicious, it leaves you a little hazy, “You look good.”

“If you’re not careful,” You murmur, voice at a level that only Mark would be able to hear, “You’re going to find yourself very alone at the end of the night.”

He hums noncommittally, “So be it.”

“That includes me,” Unable to resist the dangerous territory you are stumbling on, your fingers reach to claw through his lion mane of hair, “Where’s the rest of the boys?”

Mark removes himself from your back, hands clamping onto your shoulders in a way that makes you feel like you hallucinated the whole thing, eyes sifting through the crowd protectively, “Imma go look for them. You need anything you can find me, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He gives a little chaste kiss on your forehead before he leaves into the throng of people attempting to locate his other friends, his only identifier being the blonde locks that almost had you crumbling your self made rules and throwing them into the fire.

You trail back to the girls in the corner, Yeri missing from the group. Irene places a wine glass in front of you as soon as you seat yourself next to your sister and you can barely hear her over the thrumming of the music, “It’s a cocktail.”

You smile back at her, sipping at the drink with a complimentary nod.

Joy grasps at your wrist, her focus caught on something behind you, following her line of sight you find something that leaves you a little protective.

He looks great, and this girl seems to know it. Froth over it, even. She’s as tall as him, hanging off his arm and he’s got a look you’re all but familiar with. But your familiarity with him and the lack thereof with this girl makes you see how cold and nasty the look he casts her with.

He brushes his hair back and the girl all but falls into his personal space, undeterred by his assertive words and limbs riddled with discomfort.

You see him roll his eyes, before he spots you all, his posture straightening whilst his whole face screams help.

“I’ll be back,” You mutter to the group, striding towards the pretty boy in front of you.

With one last yank from her iron grip, Haechan meets you halfway, breathing slightly heavy as reaches for your face to bring you into a searing kiss that you can’t help but melt into.

You don’t care about the potential bystanders who may be watching. Don’t care that they could be your friends. Don’t care that your sister and her friends are watching nor do you care about the girl behind Haechan most definitely watching either.

His kisses leave you in tingles, practically preening from his lips alone. They’re soft with a sharpened taste of alcohol he had been drinking before and a pinch of mint he had been chewing on beforehand. His mouth opens, allowing for his tongue to touch yours and you feel the tension in his whole entire body fade away with every second that passes.

You moan, and he can’t help but press deeper into you, almost as if he can’t wait to see the way your lips swell and your tongue running over them to soothe them. Then before they lose their puffiness, he’ll kiss you and kiss you.

You don’t hear the guttural cry of complaint from the girl behind you, only suspecting it due to the way Haechan smirks into your mouth, his hand climbing to the base of your throat with a light squeeze that leaves you dizzy.

He pulls away from you, the sound of your lips separating with a smack and he smiles at the daze he puts firsthand in your eyes.

Could fucking look at it all day if he could.

“I need to get those drinks for the table otherwise Chenle would riot,” His tone is sultry and smokey, making arousal pool in your underwear at how sexy the picture in front of you is. How you hear it. How he looks. It’s all too much.

“Do you need help?”

The corner of his mouth lifts at your innocent question, “Nah I’ve got it. You hang out with your friends.”

You nod obediently, twisting towards the table full of girls who all wear matching smirks on their faces. Yeri, who had previously been absent, now fully sat there with a look that promises her mouth is going to spew anything out.

“Y’know, I thought you had something going on with Mark but-” Yeri shrugs, lips wrapping around her straw and from up close you can see the lipstick that marks her own face.

“I see I’m not the only one that’s been kissed,” You tease back, pointing at her.

“KISS?” Joy scoffs, “The fuck? He practically mauled you.”

Your tongue runs over your sensitive lips, the look on your face a touch lovestruck, or horny, “I know.”

Joy’s eyebrows raise, “I think something’s there and you don’t want to confront it, you know.”

You scoff out a laugh, the daze fading away at the ridiculous notion, “There’s nothing like that.”

“Honey, it’s everything like that. This guy is making you come and regularly. You’re on that dick more often than you’re not. You’re not even coming out with us nor having girl time.”

“I actually hate clubbing.”

“I know!”

“And are you saying that I can’t fuck him without liking him?”

“If I thought that I would’ve said that for all the other guys you were fucking before him, but I didn’t because I’m not dumb. I’m just saying….chemistry. You guys have it.”

You cast a look of potent disbelief and your older sister narrows her eyes at you in response, “I’m serious, you might not believe it, you might not want to believe it. But-”

“But nothing,” You snort, the humour completely amiss from your tone, “It’s not like that at all. The only reason I’m a little off right now is because we agreed not to kiss. This was our first….it caught me off guard and he’s a good kisser. That’s all.”

The two of you are silent, all but your racing heart that you fear will shake the whole ground.

You sigh, “If we do girl time…can we do it somewhere that’s not a club.”

She sighs back, except hers is full of exasperation, “Whatever you want.”

AND NOW, US

your best friend's best friend offers his services as you keep complaining about your lack of… sexual gratification.

chapter seventeen : first kiss

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slxtarchive · 3 days ago

Text

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✦ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐁𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. when you find yourself struggling in one of your classes, you thank your lucky stars for such a helpful professor

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃. yes, you can find it here.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. SMUT ! age gap [ up to your interpretation but about a 4-5 yr age gap is intended ], degrading, use of the words dirty & filthy, name calling [ slut, dirty girl, filthy girl, whore, sir ], pinch of handjobs, pnv sex [ unprotected - not recommended ], table sex & standing doggy style.

𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒. he looks so good in that photo. thank you for being patient, i hope you enjoyyy [ divider is made from youtube & capcut ]

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 2.4k.

the classroom was quiet, the only thing heard was the scratching of the chalk on the old school chalkboard. standing in front of the equation you tried and tried to think of how to solve it but ended up stumped. your lips pressed into a pout as you turned around. “i don’t get it.” you sighed, finally turning to glance in colby’s direction.

professor brock with his hands on his hips leaned back against his desk. he crossed his arms and gave you an encouraging nod. “alright, where are you stuck?”

you bit your cheek. “um, everywhere?” you replied, motioning to the unsolved problem on the board.

he let out a soft laugh, pushing himself off the desk, and walked over to stand beside you. “okay, let’s just break it down again,” he spoke pointing to the beginning of the equation. “what’s the very first thing you do here.” his tone was soft and light holding a bit of a intelligent sound.

you hesitated getting a bit distracted by the wafting scent of his cologne. you bit your cheek trying to think about the equation. “simplify?” you guessed mindlessly.

he held a light grin. “close.” his voice was so patient. “distribute first, then simplify. go on, try it.” he nodded to the boards.

you nodded slowly grabbing the chalk and began to write. you were on a roll but your hand froze halfway through. “shit — no this doesn’t even make sense.” you groaned, glancing up at him.

your professor sighed, stepping closer so he was standing right behind you. “here,” his tone was light. “let me guide you.”

he reached out, placing his hand gently over yours. his touch was warm and steady, and he guided you through the motion of writing out and solving the next step.

you felt a fire ignite on your skin and your heart started to race. his breathing was slow on your neck as he focused on solving the problem. everything about this intrigued you, turned you on even. he was so — “see?” he murmured, his breath brushing against your ear. “it’s not as complicated as it looks.”

you looked at the problem and noticed everything had been solved. you had been daydreaming. you swallowed harshly before speaking up, “i don’t know.” the uncertainty in your voice was apparent. you tilted your head up at him slightly noticing the flush in his cheeks. “it still feels… complicated.” the eye contact you made with him felt very intimate so he found himself stepping back.

he froze as he put distance between the both of you, your hands no longer touching anymore. “you just need practice.” he cleared his throat.

the way he stood there awkwardly showed you that he felt the exact same way. how he put his hands in his pockets and tried to avoid any extra eye contact.

“maybe,” you bit your lip to fight off a huge grin as you turned toward him. “or maybe i just need the right teacher.”

colby raised a brow noticing your flirty tone and how your posture was telling. “yn…” he said with a warning, though his voice was soft.

“what?” you asked, feigning innocence. “i’m just saying, you’re really good at this.”

his jaw tightened, and he looked away, trying to focus on anything but the way you were staring at him. “we should continue to focus on the math now.” he said, his voice low.

you put on a playful pout. “i am focusing.” you replied taking a step closer. “but maybe i just need a little… incentive.”

colby’s chest rose and fell heavily as he met your gaze. “yn, this… this isn’t— ”

“isn’t what?” you raised your brows. “professor, you don’t have to pretend like you don’t feel anything that i feel.” your voice was quiet and insistent.

he ran a hand through his dark hair looking at the way your shirt was tight around your body leaving just a few to the imagination. how your skin looked so soft, so smooth, so pure. his resolve slowly crumbled around your boldness. “this is a bad idea.” he muttered softly, barely above a whisper.

you were closer than ever before, your body nearly making contact with his. she looked up at his tall figure. “then stop me.” you whispered, your voice daring as you stepped one more inch closer.

he didn’t move. not one inch. he couldn’t. he wanted this.

for a long charged moment, neither of you spoke. your heart was beating so fast, racing even but you held your stance. you searched colby’s eyes trying to wonder what his next step would be.

then, as if something inside him snapped, coming closer to the distance between you. his hands found your waist, pulling you against him as his lips claimed yours.

the kiss was intense, a release of all the tension that had been building between you two. you pressed your hand against his chest, tilting your head to deepen the kiss as he backed you against the chalkboard.

you gasped as your back hit the wall. he pushed you further up against it kissing you with passion and need.

when you both finally pulled apart, you were breathless and felt dizzy trying to register what just happened. colby rested his forehead against yours. “this is going to get us both in trouble.” his voice was hoarse.

you lightly smiled, licking your bottom lip. your fingers curled into his shirt clutching it in your hands and pulled him closer. you then whispered against his lips, “then let’s make it worth it.”

he seemed to have an internal battle within himself before he grabbed your face pulling you toward his slowly, tortuously slow. your lips touched ever so slightly as your breathing mingled with his. he sighed softly, wanting to connect them.

you leaned forward trying to mold them together but he pulled back teasingly. he grinned looking at your eyes and then lips. you let out the slightest whimper that had him lose all control.

he molded your lips with his gripping your waist with urgency. your moans got caught in your throat as he grabbed you harshly before muttering ‘up’. you gasped before jumping so his hands rested on your ass carrying you over to sit on his desk.

he knew it was risky but at this point in time, he didn’t care. he shoved everything off his desk to make room for you and continued to kiss you on your lips, then brought his own all the way down to your neck — sucking and biting. “this is so wrong.” he groaned against your neck.

your eyes fluttered shut loving the feeling of his skin on yours. your chest was moving up and down as you tried to speak through your staggered breathing. “is it?” you questioned, trailing your hand down until you found his print. he was hard under his slacks. you felt excitement course through you as your brain rested on the thought of how you were turning colby on.

you palmed him through the thick material of his pants, earning a low groan from him. he clutched your hips pulling you closer to him. you moved your hand from between you two allowing your centers to collide with one another. you felt that pressure send a shock up inside you. “feels so good.” you whined as you held onto colby’s shoulders.

a low laugh left his lips. “yeah?” he fiddled with his belt with his free hand. you took your hands off his shoulder one by one to prop yourself up. he took his hand off your hip looking down at you as you sat down staring up at him. “so pretty starin’ at me.” he licked his bottom lip unbuckling it swiftly before unbuttoning his pants.

you pulled him by the belt loops of his pants then brought your hand up to his chest clutching his shirt. “make me feel pretty.” you pulled him closer. he looked down at you just before grabbing the waistband of your skirt and tugging it down a bit. you lifted your hips so that he could fully take it off so it pooled hanging off your legs.

his hand reached inside your panties using two fingers to collect your arousal. “already so wet for me, so filthy.” he purred. “my filthy girl.” he brought your slick up to your clit slowly rubbing circles. you bit your lip whimpering slightly.

he kept this going as he spoke in your ear. “you love the thought of fucking your professor? dirty dirty girl.” his fingers picked up the pace stimulating you so good. his words also brought you close and faster than you’ve ever cum before. you felt yourself try to catch your breath and keep up. “gonna have to teach you another lesson huh?”

you nodded the pleasure practically blinding you as you clenched your eyes shut. you felt your legs practically shaking as you felt your impending orgasm. suddenly colby stopped his actions, bringing his fingers up to his mouth. your eyes were mesmerized by how he licked and sucked them clean. “wanna taste you so bad but i have a meeting in a few minutes. can’t believe a dirty slut like you…” he grabbed your jaw. “would make me late for a meeting, all because you’re greedy and needy for my cock, yeah?”

that mouth of his had you completely dripping on his desk. he noticed laughing humorlessly. “making a mess too, so disrespectful.” he pouted. “you wanna be like that, probably shouldn’t give you what you want huh?” he stood still not making any more to continue what was happening.

his words causing you to speak up. “n-no! please… please fuck me.” you begged. “promise i’ll be a good girl for you professor.” you bit your lip as you called him his professional name. he raised a brow, secretly loving the way you called him that but he was looking for more.

“beg more. how bad do you want my cock, huh?” he put your hair behind your ear.

you gulped bringing your hand inside his boxers before grabbing his hard dick and gently pumping him once. “s-so bad sir. so bad, been wanting it.” you licked your lips as you saw his head lull back at your touch. “want you so bad. promise i won’t be filthy anymore. i’ll always be a good girl for you.” you blinked at him.

you were so hard to resist for him, he just had to give you what you wanted.

he licked his teach grabbing your hand and moving it aside grabbing his own cock out. he pumped himself a few times before nudging your legs further apart. he lined himself up with you feeling how smooth and silky you felt.

your hands fell behind you once again holding your balance. you almost felt yourself collapse when colby pushed all the way inside you. you gasped your jaw dropping as you felt him immediately nudge that sweet spot and at that moment, you knew you weren’t going to last long. he thrust in and out of you slowly enjoying the feeling of you wrapped around him.

he moaned at how your walls closed around and swallowed him. “taking me so well. whore for this cock, yeah?” he grabbed your hips thrusting in and out. the view in front of you is so hot. the way his hair fell in front of his eyes, how it was sticking to his forehead because of his sweat — a dream you got to see in reality.

he looked at his watch noticing he had to speed things up. “fuck — have only five minutes.” he groaned, “wish i could take my time with you.” he muttered. he ended up pulling you off the desk and turning you around. “don’t worry baby, gonna make you feel so good, jus’ quicker.” he said sliding back in. you gripped the desk as he pushed down onto his. skin slapping together echoed through the lecture hall — your tiny whimpers and moans threatening to escape.

you felt that natural feeling in your stomach rising up and banding together. you couldn’t help but clench around colby. “fuck — gonna cum! please please please…” you whimpered, the pleasure becoming too much.

colby had a lazy grin on his face as he felt the same way. “cum on my cock. be the greedy good girl you are and milk my cock.” he groaned, grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he felt himself spill inside you shortly after your legs shook in response to your orgasm.

your hands gripped the desk until they appeared white. sweat beading down your forehead.

in the silence that followed only your harsh breaths mingled in the air — the reality of what just happened settling into place. you slowly stood up as colby helped you lift up your underwear and skirt. you felt colby’s cum slowly dripping out of you; a reminder of what previously occurred.

you bit your cheek observing him buckling his pants up and fixing his collar. then he finally made eye contact with you. “i’m dropping you.” he stated.

your heart dropped out of your chest as he gathered his things. “what? i — im sorry professor brock. i… i didn’t mean to—”

he shook his head. “yn, i’m dropping you because i can’t have any romantic relations with a student.” his face did not at all show how serious dropping you from the class would be.

you gulped realizing he was right. did you regret what happened? you didn’t know. all you knew though was that you needed the class.

“i’ll make sure to get you enrolled in another class though.” he nodded. “and by no romantic relations with a student i mean, it’s because i… want to do this again. i’d like to take you out though, if that’s okay.”

his words caught you completely off guard. he just asked you out? it wasn’t just some in-the-heat-of-the-moment sex, he actually wanted to get to know you.

the smile that made its way onto your face was huge. he pressed his lips together trying to refrain from smiling back. “we'll talk tomorrow, can’t be late to this meeting.” he opened the door waving you over. “you have my number.” he stated as you walked out.

you nodded, giving him a polite smile. his thoughts raced clouding with thoughts of what just happened and what could happen as you walked away.

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apomaro-mellow · 3 days ago

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Let's get you that bingo🎉 has anyone requested phone sex yet?

Steddie Bingo Prompot: Phone Sex

Eddie had thought the most hectic things could get were fighting monsters from a parallel dimension but he was wrong. The five months that followed the Spring Break from Hell were the most chaotic of his life. Between healing from his injuries, finding out what the hell happened in California and Russia (goddamn), getting his named cleared, having a diploma thrown in his face, reconnecting with his uncle and friends, being brought into the weird little throng of resident monster hunters, it was all so overwhelming. And that was only half of it. The other half was all Steve Harrington. Eddie figured they'd have some kind of tentative friendship, a mutual respect for each other going forward.

He didn't expect to fall in love.

He also didn't expect Steve to reciprocate. For Steve though, it seemed as easy as breathing. The wrench in the works came when partway through summer, Steve found he'd been accepted at a college. One all the way in Virginia. Within a week of that, Corroded Coffin got discovered and a manager wanted them on the road right away.

Heading west of course.

Just as quickly as they had come together, things tried to pull them apart. But Eddie was tenacious and Steve was steadfast and together they made it work. Mostly through calling. Back in high school, Steve imagined college as bigger parties, looser girls, days running into each other. But reality was better. He stayed in more, with the hopes of getting a call from Eddie. He wasn't doing great in his classes but he wasn't failing either. And since admitting to being an idiot, his pride wasn't too high to attend tutoring sessions.

All to say, life had turned out so differently as he imagined, yet he wouldn't change it for the world. He was in the middle of reading (for fun!) when his phone rang.

"Eddie?"

"Hey angelface."

Steve swooned, suddenly feeling such strong longing. Last time they'd talked, the band was halfway through Wyoming. "Where are you guys now?"

"Just a few miles from Carson City. We convinced Merv to stop for the night."

Steve rolled his eyes. He wasn't the biggest fan of Merv. "He's got you guys all sharing a room again?"

"Actually...the guys decided to go out on the town." Eddie made a drown out sound like he was stretching, probably across a bed.

"Sooo, you're all alone right now?", Steve asked, twirling the cord around his finger.

"Yep. And I assume you're all alone too, handsome?"

"I assume your hand is already down your pants.

I haven’t even gotten to say what I wanna do to you.”

Eddie chuckled on the other end of the line. “Well don’t leave me hangin’, baby.”

Steve hummed in thought as he also got comfortable in bed. “You know what I’ve been thinking a lot about?”

“What’s that?”

“You, me, a really nice hotel room…”

“Hmm, how nice?”

“The nicest. It’s Vegas. There’s a fountain, valets, and you just finished a show, so you’re all amped up.” Steve’s hand went over his jeans and palmed himself, thinking of how Eddie got after performing. “I left the show early, I’m all ready for you in our room.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m in those shorts you like.”

“Oh baby~” Eddie’s voice held a shiver.

“You can’t wait to get on me”, Steve continued. “You’re already on top of me, hard.”

“Fuck yeah, my baby loves when I hump him like an animal”, Eddie growled.

Steve moaned, unzipping his pants. He was about to stick his hand down when he had the bright idea to use the pillow instead. It wasn’t exactly Eddie’s weight on top of him, but it was closer than just his hand. “Yeah”, he sighed. “You’re right on top of me. I’m spreading my legs and your cock’s on mine and it’s so hot and thick, Eddie.”

“Shit.” Eddie whimpered and Steve could tell he was getting close. “Gonna make me cum in my pants again, Stevie?”

“Mmm, you love it", Steve said, hips rolling against the pillow.

"Can't wait to have you again, have you under me again, taking it like you were made for it, fuck."

"I am", Steve breathed out. "I am made for it. Fuck, Eddie, I need you so muuuch."

"You got me baby", Eddie's hand was moving fast, stroking himself up and down and imagining his dick sliding against Steve's.

For a few moments, they simply breathed on the line, listening to each others moans and fantasizing about what they'd do once they were together again. Eddie came first, with a long drawn out groan that brought Steve over the edge too. Then it was just the sound of them panting.

Eddie was the first to speak up once he caught his breath. "You ever thought about spending Christmas in Louisiana?"

Steve smiled. "I'll mark my calendar."

@steddiebingo

Card:

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie

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emsdevs · 3 hours ago

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saw you wanted luke hughes reqs, so ‼️

him coming back to your apartment after a game and just yapping to you because he needs to be close to feel better about how it went, but will never explicitly tell you that it helps him. you're just doing miscellaneous tasks, and he eventually starts whining about it, wanting to ay down and get head scratches/cuddles from you

(if this makes no sense, pretend i was never here 😭)

a/n: so so so sorry for the wait nonnie! i hope you still like it! i did in fact get carried away and wrote 1.6k words of mostly dialogue. is this a crack fic? possibly idk. anyway this was very much a lot of fun and my beautiful wonderful wife kirby helped inspire me

masterlist

Not-So-Silent Treatment

The Devils had an early game today, and although it was a Saturday, you had to this morning and couldn’t make it. That leads you to where you are now, finally home and in comfy clothes, cleaning as a way to pass the time until Luke gets home. Before you know it, you hear someone turn down the music you previously had blasting, whipping around to see who the intruder was after not hearing the door. When you turn, you’re met with your boyfriend, Luke, leaning against the doorway with a smirk on his face. He watched as you jumped, slapping your hand over your heart, hoping to somehow calm it down.

“You gotta turn the music down when you’re home alone, babe. What if I was a serial killer?” the smirk he’s still wearing tells you he’s not serious.

“Doesn’t mean you have to give me a heart attack,” you roll your eyes, walking over to give him a quick kiss. “How was the game, Lukey?”

“Oh my god. I have so much to tell you.”

“Yay! I’m gonna finish up the cleaning while you talk, okay?” you give him one last kiss before returning to your task of doing the dishes. In the background, you could hear Luke beginning his story of a crazy penalty that happened halfway through the first period. His favorite thing to do was talk. You weren’t sure why he likes to talk so much or how he always has so much to say, but it’s become sort of comforting to you. Instead of having some random song or podcast playing while you did something, you could have your boyfriend telling you everything about nothing. You suppose it’s so comforting because you enjoy hearing his voice, and it’s a nice reminder of the fact that he’s with you, even if you’re just talking on the phone while he’s on a roadie. Either way, no one will ever hear you complaining about your boyfriend’s talking habits.

Luke, on the other hand, knows exactly why he loves to talk so much. He enjoys talking in general, but when he talks to you, it’s just as comforting for him as it is for you. It’s a way for him to decompress after a long day, lay everything out, and get it off his chest. Then, he never has to think about it again. His favorite part of his day is talking to you, so he’s going to soak it up every chance he gets. Also, Luke is aware that he’s a clingy boyfriend. He’s not scared to admit that. Talking your ear off is just another way for him to feel close to you. It especially helps when he’s gone on roadies and can’t see you face-to-face.

By the time you finish cleaning your apartment, Luke is on story number five. This one happened an hour or two before the game while the boys were messing around in the hallways, something about Luke almost getting taken out by a soccer ball while he was doing his pre-game run. You’re almost finished folding your last load of laundry when Luke starts whining behind you.

“Baby, when are you gonna be done? You’ve been cleaning for hours,” he drags out half the words in the sentence.

“Luke, you’ve only been here one hour? Just let me finish this then I’ll come sit with you, okay?”

“Whatever,” there’s no real bite to his tone, and you know he’s just being dramatic. You finish up the last bit of your cleaning about twenty minutes later, not without some more whining on Luke’s end. Soon, you’re lying down on the couch, watching as Luke makes himself comfortable on top of you. He grunts a little bit when you don’t move, and you know that’s his way of asking you to run your fingers through his hair.

He lets out a big sigh before starting again, “So anyway…” You aren’t sure exactly how long you lay there with him, listening to him talk while you played with his hair. Soon, though, the sun has set, and you’re attempting to hold back yawns. “So Curtis decided to- oh? Are you sleepy, baby? We can go to bed.”

“Yeah, let's go to bed, hun,” the two of you make your way to your bedroom, immediately lying down and getting comfortable. Luke talked the whole way there. As you’re getting comfortable, you catch a glimpse of the time on your alarm clock. “Luke, baby, it’s after midnight… can you maybe finish your story in the morning?”

“Yeah… yeah, babe, don’t worry about it. Just don’t be mad when I forget important details,” he mumbles the last sentence before letting go of you and rolling over so that his back is facing you.

“Luke. Don’t pout. I’m just sleepy, okay?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not pouting,” you can feel him rolling his eyes even though you can’t see his face. “I’m just saying. You know I don’t remember stuff well after I’ve slept on it. All those important details will probably be gone from my mind. Oh well.” You sigh, deciding to let him pout in favor of getting some sleep. A few minutes later, he speaks up again, “Ya know, I thought you liked hearing me talk.” After getting no response, he tries again, “Dad always told me I’d never find a wife if I didn’t learn how to shut up sometimes. I guess he was right,” he let out a big sigh in between the two sentences. It goes on for you don’t even know how long after that.

“Jack and Quinn used to never let me talk. I’m starting to think you’re just like them.”

“I thought I was dating my best friend. Turns out you actually hate me.”

“There was a really funny part too. I guess you don’t want me to do my favorite thing. Make you laugh. I love your laugh, but you obviously don’t care.”

“I guess I just love you more than you love me. I would do anything for you, baby, even ruin my sleep schedule. Unlike some people.”

“I would never name names but some people like to tell me they love to hear me talk but they really only mean they like it when it’s convenient for them.”

That’s when the fake waterworks set in. Luke is a horrible fake cryer, but that doesn’t stop him. He’s slapping his hand over his mouth, shaking his shoulders, letting out the most unbelievable “boo hoo” you’ve ever heard. When he sees it’s not working, he changes his tactic again.

“Aren’t you gonna apologize? You made me cry!”

“It’s 2:00 AM, and you made me cry. Are you happy with yourself? This is the kind of relationship you want? The kind of relationship where I have to cry myself to sleep?”

“I bet if we got into an argument right now, you wouldn’t even let me plead my case. Because then I would be talking, and apparently, you don’t like that anymore.”

At this point, you know you’re not sleeping any time soon, so you let yourself answer, “Luke, you’ve been talking for the past six hours.”

He’s quick with his reply, “See! I just can’t do anything right.”

“Ya know, you always call me your baby, but is this what you would do to a baby? Let them cry themselves to sleep?”

“Yeah, Luke, it’s called self-soothing. It’s actually a really common soothing method these days.”

“Torture method, more like. Poor kids. Is this what you’re gonna do to our kids? Tell them to shut up because you aren’t in the mood for them to express their thoughts and feelings?”

“Luke, we’re both freshly twenty-one, and we aren’t having kids any time soon?”

“Oh so now you don’t see a future with me? I guess I should return the ring in my sock drawer then, huh?”

“You have a ring?” you nearly shout, shocked at his revelation.

“Nah, I just wanted you to feel bad.” You quiet down after that, relieved that you won’t have to turn him down because you’re not ready, not that he isn’t the one you want to marry. He very much is, just not right this second. The exhaustion is setting in, so you don’t say much for a while. Apparently, that makes Luke really nervous. “I’m so sorry, baby. You know I was just playing, right? I’ll buy you a ring one day. I’ll do all the research. I’ll even stalk your Pinterest if I have to. I’ll buy you the perfect ring. Then I’ll give you the perfect wedding. Then we can have the perfect kids… Do you hate me now?” You can hear how sad he is, knowing he’s probably tired, and it’s probably heightening his emotions and dramatics.

“I don’t hate you, Lukey. I could never. I’m just sleepy, baby. I need to sleep, and I think you do too. Besides, I don’t wanna get married right now anyway.”

“Oh, so you don’t wanna marry me?” it was his turn to almost shout, his dramatic side getting the better of him in his sleepy state.

Eventually, you manage to wrangle him into laying his head on your chest so you can softly drag your fingers through his curls just the way he likes. Soon, it gets him asleep, just like you knew it would. Finally, you’re able to get some much-needed sleep as well. The next morning you hear it from Luke. He won’t shut up about how he has to finish his story but can’t remember half of it because you made him sleep. He loves to get on your nerves, but you wouldn’t trade a single moment with your favorite drama queen.

taglist: @heartsforjh @alex-wotton @devilinpradaheels @juxmi @macklin-celebrini-71 @puckmedude @one-sweet-gubler

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#em's writing #em's inbox #em's nonnies #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #lh43 #new jersey devils #njd #nj devils #nhl #nhl x reader

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koresflowers · 3 months ago

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guys am i going to finish heartless or is heartless going to finish me?

#heartless #marissa meyer #i’m only halfway through but i know how it’s going to end #jest #catherine pinkerton #i love them sm

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redfirefox-55 · 8 days ago

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Please guys go read Software Entropy by @clubsheartsspades (I hope you don’t mind the tag!)

It literally destroyed me. I forced my sister to read it and it destroyed her too. I just had to draw something for it because I couldn’t get this quote out of my head, but I couldn’t possibly do the scene justice in the same way as in the fanfiction so you need to go read it yourself

#you go into it thinking oh it can’t be that bad I’m not that affected by sad media #then it is that bad #and worse #and oh my god im only halfway through #and you remember there is no happy ending for them and somehow you forgot and wished things would start getting better #but you already know how this story ends #I need to reread it because I feel like I missed a lot of symbolism the first go because of how emotionally distressed I was #this persons work is so good #I read one of their other fanfics before leaving only rust behind I think #and it was also very good it was very cute #I don’t think I finished it because I’m not much of a reader but I think I’ll go back to it and the other one they wrote too #I swear these two little robots make me miserable #art #my art #comic #rain world #five pebbles #looks to the moon #rw fp #rw lttm #rw moon #rw fanfic #fanfiction

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kurooh · 5 months ago

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MIGHT LET YOU MAKE ME JUNO ! — HAIKYUU

⊹₊˚. featuring timeskip! miya atsumu, miya osamu, kuroo tetsurō, iwaizumi hajime, & suna rintarou tryin’ to knock up their pretty wife !

warnings ★ 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, breeding, cuddlefucking, doggy, talk of kids & pregnancy, fluff, creampies, shower sex, minor cockwarming, squirting, full nelson, mirror sex, mention of lactation, mating press, cum in panties (offscreen), not proofread.

xoxo, juno ★ my namesake?! hehe, cheers to the surviving haikyuu fuckers on my blog <33 ty for your patience!! as always, send in some asks/reblog if you enjoyed, i love reading comments/tags

— MIYA ATSUMU

“go ahead ‘n slut yerself out all over my cock, baby.. fuuuck, jus’ like that.”

atsumu’s lips part around a needy moan, jaw hanging slackly in some kind of disbelief. after such a lengthy, tiring day, he found himself trudging into your shared bathroom to greet you.

he’d gotten hard in seconds, seeing your tits pressed against the glass door as well as your face, lidded eyes and cute pout enticing him to come join you. when he got onto his knees to get you ready, you’d bent over and tossed him a knowing smirk over your shoulder.

“lemme see that ass move again.. shit, ‘s perfect. yer perfect.” you giggle, throwing your ass back onto his cock, eyes rolling back when his tip kisses your cervix just right, sending sparks of pleasure right through your veins.

“tsumu, this isn’t all that fun,” you huff, the wild need for him to truly ruin you growing by the second. “wan’ you to fuck me, and make me yours.”

“baby, yer already mine,” atsumu lands a slap on your wet asscheek, startling you enough for your legs to spread further. “good girl,” he praises, hushed and under his breath. he reaches upwards and pulls the shower head down, pushes it into your hand and changes the setting.

“use this on yer clit, ‘kay? when yer feelin’ like ya wanna cum, don’t. hold it ‘n we’ll cum at the same time, yeah baby?”

you nod, and he smacks your ass hard, leaning backwards. atsumu pushes a hand through soaked gold strands, chuckling lowly although his voice has a serious edge to it. “‘s not how we say yes, is it?”

“y-yes, tsumu. at the same time.”

he draws his hips back, then finds himself advancing forward brutally. he doesn’t think about anything beside you — you, you, you. with the scent of your body wash tangling in the hot air, the beautiful curves and slopes of your body, the noises you make for him only.

your chest heaves when the steady spray of the shower head soon reaches your clit, immediately proving to be overwhelming and intense paired with him fucking you.

“so god damn tight,” atsumu hisses, nails digging crescent moons into the plush skin of your hips as his own collide with your ass. the bathroom is full of steam and the rhythmic clap of skin against skin — it’s hard to keep from trembling with how good everything feels, all over.

frantic panting cuts through the sound of your whimpers as atsumu feels himself nearing his peak. it’s nasty, downright filthy, the way your nails drag down the wall tiles as you desperately hump your ass back into him.

gasps of your name and affectionate nicknames fall from his lips like a sacred prayer, blending into a whiny harmony as atsumu’s thrusts grow rougher.

“baby,” he chokes, voice tight. “ya better be close, can barely last.”

“tsumu, cum inside me,” you beg, skin burning and pussy squeezing uncontrollably, squelching growing louder. “p-please, i can’t— i’m gonna cum, ‘m gonna—” your body tenses, and the shower head falls to the floor with a clunk that neither of you register.

luckily atsumu looks down at the right moment, sees you squirt, pussy gushing onto his pelvis. as if your back arching and your clenching pussy wasn’t enough, he ends up cumming too hard, ribbons of white gushing deep into your awaiting pussy.

“fuckkk,” he groans, overstimulation setting in way too quickly and causing him to pull halfway out of your fluttering cunt.

“no, tsumu,” is all you can heave out, pushing back hard enough to send him into the wall behind him, muscled back hitting the tiles as he lets out a startled oomph. “wanna keep it inside, feels so good.”

— MIYA OSAMU

“samu,” you mumble into his lips, tossing a leg over his hip. he grunts, nose nudging your cheek as he pulls back. “yeah? what’s on yer mind, angel?”

“had a dream about a baby,” the words are spoken softly, and osamu’s fingers lightly graze your chin as he makes you look up at him. “i know it’s kinda stupid, but it was so..” your voice trails off sheepishly and there’s a pause before you admit, “you were such a good dad, samu, ‘n so sexy too.”

your bare bodies are bathed in the morning sunlight, warm and comforting as it peeks in through the curtains. this is the perfect moment with him, skin to skin, his cock still inside you as you kiss and talk about dreams of the future.

in his chest, feelings stir and ideas come to life in his head; osamu presses his hips forward with a hushed moan.

“well, i’ll give ya a baby, angel,” large hands smooth over your hips as he helps you turn away from him; then they pull you close, grabbing at your tits and tugging your nipples between his fingers.

“samu,” you sigh, words fading into a content moan as you feel his hips draw back, then advance forward, against your ass. “i want you to fill me up, give me everything.”

“only if ya take it all,” osamu huffs, tucking his face into your shoulder and closing his eyes as he starts to fuck his cock into you deeply. the thick tip kisses your sweet spot over and over, and if that wasn’t already overwhelming enough, your hand wanders towards your swollen clit.

somehow, osamu’s faster than you, releasing one of your tits and swatting away your hand before he’s finding your clit with his index finger and rubbing it in messy circles.

“s-samu, fuck— jus’ like that, don’t stop!”

your back arches against him, hips twisting as a heat spreads through your veins, fiery and intense in the best ways possible. the movement of your body and then the frantic clenching of your pussy is too intense for him; sharp whines escape his throat, muffled as osamu bites into your shoulder desperately.

“i-i— shit, ‘m gonna fill you up,” is all you can make out from his rushed mumbling, and you turn your head quickly, desperate for his lips.

“kiss me, samu. kiss me as you cum inside, please.”

it’s as though the words break him — his face twists as he kisses you, whole body tensing. he presses his cock deep, thickening and throbbing before he’s gushing cum and can’t seem to stop.

“ah, fuck,” he tosses his head back, fingers scrabbling at your nipples as his chest heaves against your back, heart pounding steadily.

you cum with a whine, grinding down on his cock in an effort to get him impossibly deeper. as you ride out your highs together, trembling deliciously, he can’t help but dissolve into giggles of pure happiness.

“angel, ya got that baby for sure, jus’ like ya wanted, hm? ah, i can’t wait for a mini-me or a mini-ya. yer gonna be the prettiest mom, swear.”

— KUROO TETSURŌ

“fuck, babe. you’ve got no idea about what i saw today,” tetsurō huffs, warm breath fanning over your tits as they bounce, controlled by your bra.

spices clatter as tetsurō sweeps his arm across the kitchen counter behind you, clearing the space so you can lean back a little easier. his grip on your thighs doesn’t waver, nor does the ruthless tempo of his hips.

“tetsu, what’d you see?” you gasp, tears threatening to pour over your waterline.

“well, i saw this family,” he grunts, thrusting into you particularly hard now that he’s recalling the memory. “the dad had their kid on his shoulders, and the mom was pregnant. they looked so happy, and it made me think of you.”

“is that so?” you ask, spreading your legs impossibly wider as an invitation. you bite your lower lip, rolling your hips against his in an effort to get his cock deeper.

“tetsu,” he raises his eyes from the mess between your legs to your face, earnest and flushed. “kiss me, baby.”

tetsurō obliges, lets you tug him forward by the chin, mesh his lips with yours. it’s warm and sweet, the aftertaste of the dessert you’d been making as his surprise for when he’d come home. your tongue slips between plush, parted lips and moves with his gently, quite a contrast from the rough way he’s fucking you.

“ah, shit,” he moans, struggling to kiss you back when he feels your sticky walls clenching down on his too sensitive cock.

tetsurō leans forward and buries his flushed face in your shoulder, kissing the tender skin a few times before nipping it and then finally biting down into your shoulder.

he practically loses it when you wrap your legs around his back, heels digging into muscle as you push him forward. in a hushed tone and into his ear, you say sweetly, “tetsu, fuck a baby into me.”

“oh, i fucking will, princess.”

although, despite his rough words, he’s wheezing and whining every now and then into your shoulder, hoping it muffles his sounds.

your hand slides up his neck and tangles into dark tufts of hair, pulling tight as your own orgasm approaches. your pleasure mixes with his own, and just before the knot in your belly snaps, you feel a strong pulsing deep within your pussy.

he groans loudly, burying his cock deep just as it starts to gush, painting your walls white. your nails dig hard into his scalp and the sting of pain only seems to make him get a little more vocal.

tetsurō pants into your neck, trying to find his bearings now that his limbs feel like jelly.

“hold me?”

— IWAIZUMI HAJIME

“h-haji, this was a good call..”

“oh yeah?” hajime’s voice rumbles in his chest, strong and steady against your back as he keeps your legs wide open. “have we ever tried this one?”

“i don’t think so, but we definitely will in the future.”

“feels that good, princess?” hajime chuckles, eyeing your reflections in the mirror mounted across the bed. for a moment, he considers the two of you puzzle pieces — he sees that his cock fits snugly inside you, and the thought that you may be made for each other briefly crosses his mind.

“of course it does,” a sheen of sweat glimmers on your face, skin glowing beautifully in the mirror. “god, hajime, y-you’re so deep..”

he notices your eyes falling shut, head tipping back, and he raises his hand to lightly smack your cheek. “mm, princess, gotta keep watching. i want you to see yourself cum, alright?”

“fine,” you huff, feet dangling in the air and bouncing every which way as he fucks into you, heavy balls smacking your pussy with each stroke.

“what made you wanna try this?” you ask, knowing you should save the question for later, but you’re too curious not to ask. why would your husband come home someday and randomly want to try a new position you’d never heard of?

“well, you know..” in the mirror, you catch the flush on his tanned cheeks. “we’ve both caught the fever recently, and this is a solid position for makin’ babies.”

you gasp sharply when hajime turns his hips ever so slightly, and the resulting sensation causes pressure to build in your pelvis. “shit— right there, haji, just like that..”

he grunts, body stiffening as he tightly holds you in place and fucks into you like it’s the last time you’ll ever be like this together.

“wanna get you pregnant,” hajime groans, abs flexing with the effort of maintaining his merciless pace, “i wanna—shit—wanna breed you.”

“you want it that bad?” you breathe, just barely keeping your eyes open and focusing on your bouncing reflection. “fuck me full, then, haji.”

hajime doesn’t question it, thinks of you with a swollen belly and milky tits all for him to hold and take care of. you, with your glowing skin and beautiful body from all the pregnancy hormones.

the idea of it all is too much to bear, not to mention cumming deep inside your cunt, this time with the intent to breed.

he can’t even muster the words to warn you that he’s cumming as hard as he is; after a choked, tight groan, he falls silent and rocks his hips into you.

“fuck it deep, haji,” you whisper, on the edge yourself. obedient and too far gone in his fantasy, he does exactly what you ask, whining very quietly from the sensitivity.

shaking on top of him and watching the reflections in the mirror, you cum hard, dissolving into unmatched pleasure. and you’re thankful you keep your eyes open, moaning at the very sight— hajime doesn’t even pull out, he’s still pushing his cock in and out of you, but cum races from your cunt in thick white rivulets.

“i’m trying,” he huffs, sensitive when he glances up and notices how intently you’re watching the mirror. his cheeks flush lightly when you both notice that most of his cum ends up dripping down his balls and out of you.

“don’t worry, princess. i’ll cum however many times it takes, sound good?”

— SUNA RINTAROU

“you want a few brats? oh, i just felt your pussy squeeze up. ‘s what you want, huh?” rintarou bites, harshness of his thrusts drawing whimper after whimper from your kiss-swollen lips.

“i want it, rin,” you feel one of his palms smoothing over the plushness of your lower stomach, just above your pelvis. “w-what’re you doing?”

he laughs at your stutter, keeps your legs steady over his shoulders. rintarou draws his hips back, leaving just his tip inside your quivering pussy. then, he presses down on your lower stomach and slides in, adding more pressure with each inch.

“rintarou!” you wheeze, jerking your hips to the side in a pathetic attempt to run away from the overwhelming pleasure he gives you with every movement, big or small.

“nuh uh, pretty girl,” his free hand grabs ahold of you tightly, tugs you towards him and then settles to rest on your neck. rintarou’s fingers are loose on each side of your throat, hand placed there in a demonstration of control. but what’s the point of that, when he’s already made it clear by hoisting your legs over his shoulders and folding you in half?

“you’ll take it, all of it.”

“but ‘m sensitive, i’ve cum too many times,” you can’t even recall a number or remember how long he’s been fucking you like this.

you’re both sticky with sweat, your thighs stained white with dried cum from previous rounds and marked with love bites he’d given you in his excitement to get a taste of your pussy.

it’s so fucking messy because rintarou’s the one who can’t stop asking to eat you out and push the cum back inside; you always say yes, then cum until you’re dizzy and can’t see straight.

you taste yourself from earlier on the corners of his lips when he bends forward and gives you a chaste kiss. “l-last time, okay? i’ll give you your brats, pretty girl.”

the sweet pout on your lips that’s quickly replaced with something else and wail of his name that leaves you when he starts jackhammering your pussy turns him on to the max.

incoherent babbling of what he’ll give you and how good you feel blend together, and before you can fully register it, rintarou’s folding forward with a deep groan. “shit, i’m gonna cum so fucking hard, i—”

he shuts up and gives you a few more thrusts before he’s pushing deep and cumming — he’s not done when he pulls out and covers your pussy in cum.

“r-rin, keep it inside,” you whine sadly, watching as he collects it on his tip and then plunges it back inside.

“jus’ needed some extra lube,” he says coolly, but he really just wants to cum all over you. “how’s it feel inside, pretty baby?”

“like i need some more.”

rintarou laughs at the way you turn away, cheeks hot in embarrassment because you were the one who wanted a break. “we are going out later, hm?”

your nod makes him smile, green eyes crinkling at the corners. “how about i cum in your panties and you walk around with ‘em?”

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lymtw · 6 months ago

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The frustration that Satoru feels when he completely stops seeing you as just one of his best friends.

You’re so pretty, modeling the dress you’ll be wearing on your date with some guy who probably dims in comparison to you. Suguru says you should try the outfit without the cardigan, so you take it off for a second and do a little 360 for the trio. Shoko gasps when she sees the lacy details that were hidden by the coat and Suguru claps in validation. “You’re so gonna get some.”

Satoru just watches, cheek resting in his fist as he half listens to the little debate between Shoko and Suguru. It’s all a blur as he focuses on the one glowing in front of him.

“Satoru?” You wave your hand in front of him.

“Hm?” He blinks up at you, acting like he wasn't zoned out while staring.

“Tie-breaker. Coat or no coat?”

He had heard what Suguru said when you took the cardigan off. 'You’re so gonna get some.'

He doesn’t want that.

“You should stay layered. You might get cold later.”

Suguru groans in disapproval, falling back into the couch cushion, while Shoko grins, smugly, at her small victory.

“Coat it is.” You smile, running back to the bathroom to finish getting ready.

“You like her, huh?” Suguru asks as soon as you’re out of sight, a squint of betrayal in his eyes.

“Pfft, nah. What makes you think that?” Satoru defends.

“She asked for our opinion on the dress and you went silent," Shoko says, throwing a knowing smirk at Satoru.

“You don’t want her to get laid or something? Why’d you vote for the granny cardigan?” Suguru adds, arms crossed over his chest.

“I want to see you take care of her when she’s sick. I did it last time, and she was unbearable. Also,” he turns to answer Shoko’s remark, “what can I say? I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“A lot of her on your mind.” Suguru nods over at you.

Satoru turns, a lucent gleam in his eyes when he sees you.

“Alright, guys. I’ll be back before-“

“Don’t rush!” Shoko says, giggling at the dopey look on Satoru’s face.

There’s a smirk tugging on Suguru’s lips. “Have fun.”

“Call if you need me to pick you up," Satoru blurts, sitting up straight on the lounge chair he was seated in.

Shoko gasps and Suguru’s eyes go wide for a second.

“Uh... sure. Will do. Love you guys, bye!” You walk past your friends, opening the front door and shutting it behind you.

Your perfume had some effect on Satoru because for some reason his heart was racing and he was unable to calm it down.

“What?” Satoru asks when he notices the way his friends look at him. “I’m the only one with a car here.”

“Uh-huh, let’s put it that way," Shoko says, sharing a menacing look with Suguru.

—

You did end up having to call Satoru. Your date was the most annoying, insufferable person you had ever met and you weren't going to pretend like you were enjoying your time with him for the rest of the night. How can someone be so different the moment you’re alone together? You couldn’t stand him, so you excused yourself from the table and went to the restroom halfway through your meal.

You called Satoru, hoping he wasn't kidding about calling him if you needed a ride home.

“Hey, uh, I know this is really inconsiderate of me, but can you come pick me up from the restaurant? If you can’t it’s totally fine. I’ll stay.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. It turns out I can’t stand this guy.” You chuckle, your hand reaching for the sensor beneath the water faucet, the cool water running through your fingers. "He's gross and just... I don't know."

“Did he do anything to you? Are you okay? ‘Cause, you know, I can kick his ass.”

“You already asked me that, 'toru. I’m okay. He’s just…” you pause, a sigh filling in the silence, “...different from what I remember. I don’t know this guy.”

Satoru is already sitting in his car. The moment you asked him to pick you up, he grabbed his keys and headed for the car.

“Give me ten minutes.”

“It takes twenty to get here.”

“Too bad. I’m running a few red lights. Sit tight.”

“Sa-”

The call ends and you’re left staring at the contact photo you have for him. You turn your screen off and stare into the mirror. You don’t know if you should stay in the bathroom until Satoru gets there or if you should go back out to the man waiting for you.

—

“So, Satoru likes her, huh?” Shoko says, leaning back in the lounge chair Satoru sat in before.

“Who would have guessed? We’ve all been friends for years and he’s never looked at her like that.”

“We should invest in some noise cancelling headphones. Who knows what could happen after tonight?”

Suguru furrows his eyebrows in confusion, so Shoko grins and demonstrates. She rocks back and forth in the old lounge chair, the chair creaking and squealing.

“Oh.” Suguru’s face further scrunches. He didn't need the image of his friends doing that together, in his mind.

—

Your phone vibrates on the sink, and Satoru’s name appears on the screen when you flip it. You quickly answer the call.

“Hey, i’m outside.”

“How do I walk out of here without seeming like a bitch? I didn’t think this through.”

“First, walk out the restaurant doors. Then, get in my car. It’s pretty simple, honestly.”

“We haven’t paid the bill.”

“Fuck it. Let him pay.”

“That’s just wrong. Alright, i’ll be out in a bit. Bye.”

“Bye.”

You sum up all the courage you have and walk out of the bathroom. Once you reach the table, you pull out some cash you have just laying around in your purse, like forty-something bucks, and set it down in the middle of the table.

“Hopefully that’s enough to cover half of it.”

“Where are you going?” Your date asks.

“To keep it polite, I have to go. Have a good rest of your night.”

You walked out of the restaurant, immediately spotting Satoru’s blue Camaro.

The second you get in, you make yourself comfortable, removing your heels and taking down your hair from its updo.

“What’s wrong?” Satoru asks, when you don’t say anything.

“It’s fine. This guy just wasn’t the one.”

Satoru’s chest feels tight now that you’re in the car. The smell of your perfume has returned and you’re glowing in the moonlight. It makes him think of the effort you put into looking the way you do, and how you ended up having to hide in the bathroom.

“Do you wanna go home?”

You’re looking in the sun visor mirror, bobby pins in your mouth as you fix your hair so that it’s not in your face once Satoru starts driving.

“Mm… whatever you want to do,” you say, muffled by the pieces of metal pressing into your lips.

It wouldn’t be whatever he wants to do, though. All he wants to do is kiss you, right now. Do something to soothe the ache you must be feeling.

“Why are you acting like this?” He asks, watching you as you place another pin in your hair.

You laugh through your nose, a bobby pin still between your lips. You put it in your hair before answering.

“Like what?” You look at him while you put your seatbelt on.

“Like this doesn't bother you. You don't have to put up a front, you know? I'm not gonna laugh at you."

The metal clicks, and you fold the sun visor back up. “Because it didn’t bother me. I’m not gonna settle for someone I hate being around."

Part of Satoru wanted this to go well for you. He wanted to see a brilliant smile on your face when you got home. So, the fact that it didn’t end up that way strangely caused some heartache for him.

“Don’t look so down.” You give him a kind smile and pinch his cheek. “I’m okay. Really.”

He tries to distract himself from the warmth that seeps into his cheeks from your quick gesture. “Well, I don’t want to go home. Is that okay, with you?”

“What’s up with you?” You ask, bringing one of your legs up and folding it comfortably on the seat.

“Nothing.”

You stare at him until he breaks out his contagious smile and laugh.

“Really, nothing. I just want to spend some time out tonight. Shoko and Suguru want to stay home and be couch potatoes."

You see your date walking out of the restaurant, phone against his ear. He doesn’t look too defeated, but you don’t want him to see you with Satoru and make any bold assumptions.

“Okay, that’s totally fine, but can we go?” Your leg goes back down, meeting the floor mat and you turn to face the window.

Satoru analyzes your behavior and your expression. Your arms are crossed, you refuse to look in his direction again. It’s weird compared to how you were acting two seconds ago.

“What?” Satoru turns to look at whatever made you shrink, and as soon as he sees him he rolls his window up. “Really?” His eyes are lidded in disappointment. It’s not in you as a person, but in your lack of respect for yourself, choosing someone so far below your league.

“He was nice when I first met him.”

Satoru puts the gear in reverse, backing out of the parking spot. “He looks stupid and on top of that he acts like it, too? God.”

“I know, I know.” You lean against the car door and stare out the window.

“What made you think you deserved him? Honestly, I can’t wrap my head around how low this is for someone like you.”

“I don’t know.”

Your responses to Satoru's interrogation kept getting shorter and shorter and he realized he was beating a horse that was already down.

“You know I care," he mumbles, breaking the heavy silence. “I don’t mean to tell you who to date and who you should be with.”

“I hate this conversation. You’re not my dad, Satoru. It’s fine.” You sit up, back against the seat and face forward. “Where are we, anyway?”

“I just followed a random road to see where it would lead. I don’t wanna go home, but I also don’t want to know where I am.”

“So, we’re lost.” You laugh.

“Hey, as long as we have phones with enough battery, we’re not really lost.”

“Right.” You grin, continuing to watch the road. You look over the steering wheel to see how much gas the car has. It’s two marks below the bold F.

“Can you tell me something?”

You turn to Satoru, giving him your full attention. He’s been more serious than you know him to be since you left the house.

“What’s up?”

“I’m not trying to rehash this father-like conversation, but as one of your best friends… what were you thinking when you accepted a date with this guy?” He glances over at you for a second. “What went through your mind when you said 'yes' to a date with him?”

“Potential love, dates, butterflies. All the stuff that goes into getting to know someone as more than an acquaintance or friend.” You fidget with the extra hair tie on your wrist.

“You want all of that?” He asks, glimpsing at you again.

You nod, silently.

“You’re pretty enough to fuck around with whoever you want, you know? I know some people who wanna do some pretty... vulgar things with you."

Your eyes go wide at how far south the conversation went. You cracked the second you looked at Satoru though. He looked somewhat proud to be friends with someone who could get some anytime.

“That’s… good to know, I guess.” Your mind stumbles over the part where he called you pretty enough.

“You’re not interested in that, though, are you?”

You wince, jokingly. “It’s just not my cup of tea. I want something more long-term.”

Satoru grins, almost like he wants to talk about himself.

“That’s not your cup of tea, is it?” You reciprocate the grin.

“No, no. Believe it or not, the last relationship I was in lasted a whole two months.”

You slapped the car door dramatically. “A whole two months?!”

“Stop it. It’s nothing, really," Satoru jokes, grinning with faux pride.

“Hey, i’m not shaming you. You’re not down with commitment and that’s fine. We're young. There's no need to rush."

“I haven’t found someone I really want to commit to. I'm not stupid enough to ignore the fact that people are really only attracted to my body. They can't stand when I open my mouth, so I figured it’s better to fuck around than to put my heart into something that won’t last without sex.”

Satoru's personality was for people with acquired taste. On the other hand, Satoru's physical appearance was for anyone and everyone. The people who could appreciate all of him would be in for the most amazing ride, because even as his friend, you could confidently say that there is no one like him anywhere in the world. You can only hum in acknowledgement of how romantically lonely he must feel.

“What?” You ask when the car stops. Satoru puts the car in park before turning it off. “We’re not out of gas, so what’s the problem?”

He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to face you, one leg bent on the seat. He’s met with a breathtaking sight. You look stunning in that navy blue dress, and that shade smeared over your lips was calling his name. He can see part of your thigh from where your dress rides up.

“Can I talk to you about something?” The tension behind the question was enough to make your ears go red.

“Of course you can. You’re scaring me, but go on.”

He smiles, trying to lighten up the mood. He knows better than to just dump information like this on you so heavily, but he can't go home tonight without telling you how he feels. He already doesn’t expect much to come of telling you this, but it's been eating him alive and he can't keep it in anymore.

“You've been on my mind a lot, lately." He sees your slightly furrowed eyebrows. They match the unintentional pout on your lips. You’re confused and for some reason you feel nervous, like your heart might escape your ribcage.

“What does that mean?” You ask, wanting a clearer understanding. He could be worried about you in a totally platonic way. He could be wondering about what you've been up to lately. You're having trouble assuming there's romantic notes to his statement after the brief discussion you just had.

“It's exactly as it sounds. I've been thinking about you." He's not smiling, he's not laughing yet this still sounds like a joke that he’s running to mess with you.

“You done with your jokes? We could both be home right about now," you say, not intending for your words to come out as sharp as they did. His hand is suddenly cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away a speck of glitter from it.

“You say goodnight to me in the sweetest way—like you won't see me in the morning. And the soft smile you give me before you shut the door... it lingers in my mind. I dream of it from time to time."

You're trying so hard not to lean into his touch and nuzzle your cheek into his palm, but you make no effort to push his hand away. “What are you talking about, Satoru? Don't you think you're reading into it a little too much? I do that for all three of you. Ask Shoko and Suguru.”

His hand has been on your cheek for a while now, and he’s still looking at you like he has things to get off his chest. “I know you don't say it the same way to them as you do to me." He stops, a little sigh leaving him. He’s probably making you dizzy with all of this news, based on the look on your face. He retracts his hand and rests it on his thigh. You look stunned, so he cuts to the chase. “To be even more clear, I don’t see you as a friend. It doesn’t seem right to see you that way when I can picture us doing more. Being more."

“Doing more?” You repeat, cheeks growing warm.

“Holding hands, kissing, being alone together—more.”

The heavy silence returns, both of you nervously avoiding eye contact.

“I..." you huff. "I need some air.” You unbuckle yourself before exiting the car. Your scent remains in the car even after the door shuts behind you, leaving Satoru to wonder if things are screwed with you.

Your back is against the door, your hands interlocked in front of your eyes, shielding you from the gentle moonlight. You groan, irritated by the conflicted thoughts that came with Satoru's revelation.

It’s not long before Satoru comes out and joins you, leaning on the side of his car. It's cold and he doesn't want you to get sick again. His heart could barely handle your involuntarily weak display the first time.

“I didn’t stress you out, did I?” He asks, turning his head to look at you. You shake your head, your hands still covering your eyes. “There’s really no part of you that can envision an us between me and you?”

You chuckle, a sound that makes his heart pang. “It’s funny... you know, a long time ago it was all I dreamed about.”

Now this was baffling news to Satoru. How long ago was a long time ago? A couple months ago? Last year? Three years ago? And why didn’t you say anything?

“I considered you a pursuit that was out of reach. You had—have— all these girls just throwing themselves at you, and I couldn’t be one of them, so I befriended you instead.”

“How long ago was a long time ago?” He asks, nervous to hear the answer.

“Like last year in March. It was during your phase where you would never come home.”

He feels like an asshole. Especially since not too much later, he developed similar feelings for you that he endlessly denied.

“You liked the me you never got to see?”

You both chuckled at the rhyme of his words, your broken senses of humor adding some lightheartedness to the conversation.

“I guess you not coming home was more calming because I didn't have to be nervous to see you.”

You crossed your arms. The cardigan protected you, but not enough. The cold wind was starting to nip at your cheeks. Satoru notices and moves closer to you.

“Let’s go back inside, yeah?”

You didn’t want to. You were nervous being “stranded” with Satoru already, but minimizing the space between you was even more nerve-wracking. He was your greatest temptation before, and you could easily create those labyrinths that guide him into your mind again if you got close enough.

“I’ll be fine," you say, looking straight ahead at the field of weeds in front of you.

“You’re gonna catch a cold. Get in the car," Satoru prompts. He thought back to the tired look on your face as you laid in bed sick, waiting for him to bring you warm soup.

“No," you insisted, turning away from him.

He inched closer, not wanting to look at your back. “Please, get in the car." He thought of the gracious look on your sick face when he brought you another blanket to keep you warm.

“I said no, Satoru. I don't want to get in the car with you."

You were being stubborn as hell, and something about it made Satoru’s blood boil to the point where he did whatever his mind told him to do. You were suddenly pinned to the car, your hands on Satoru’s chest to keep some distance. He blocked every gust of wind that threatened to bite at your skin, and enveloped you in his warmth. You don’t know how, but in this freezing temperature, Satoru’s hands felt like sunlight on your cheeks. His face was centimeters away from yours, his bright eyes searching for a loophole in your feelings for him. Your eyes spoke with an infinite amount of possibility, and some of it didn't make sense, so he kissed you in hopes of translating what you were trying to say.

You didn’t have any fight left in you. Not when you felt so secure in this close proximity. Now, all you wanted was to be in the car with him, alone.

The kiss was released with light breaths from both of you, a look of feeling complete on Satoru’s face. “Will you get in the damn car,” he whispers, his arms caging you against the car.

“Say please," you say in the same intimate volume as him.

“Please," he complies, allowing his eyes to flit between your eyes and your lips.

“Pretty please?" you push.

“Pretty please," he says, the corners of his lips twitching.

“How about pretty please with a cherry on top?”

“Get in the car," he says through a laugh.

You chuckle, shoving him lightly before opening the door and entering the car. Satoru gets in the drivers seat and suddenly it all feels strange. Strange, but in the best way.

The tension from before returns. There's no wind blowing to fill in the silence when you both stop talking.

“Do you ever think of me when you're alone?” It was a weird question to be asked by him, especially since you had already told him that your feelings for him were left behind.

“Never," you reply, a softness in your tone that held memories of when all you thought about was Satoru.

He's somewhat disappointed, seeing as though there's a chance he might be too late.

“Do you think that will change after tonight?” He seems to be getting closer, or at least his hands are. Your skin is irresistible and he wants to feel how soft you are. He's been craving you for so long, and you're right there.

“There’s no way to tell.” You can see how slowly his hand is traveling. A minute ago it was on his lap, now it’s on the armrest between your seats. You can’t wait any longer. The suspense might make you jump out of the car again, so you grab his hand and put it on your thigh, where your dress rides up.

“I’ll throw the question back to you. Do you think of me when you're alone?” You ask him now because he won’t give you some bullshit response at a time like this, when he’s getting everything he’s wanted for who knows how long.

“All the time,” he responds so quickly. “When I wake up, before I go to sleep, in the shower, while I brush my teeth.” There’s this foolish look on his face, like he would give anything to never lose the ability to have you on his mind all the time. "You're in there, organizing the shrine I made for you," he admits, with a grin. His thumb presses into your thigh, massaging the plush skin. It makes you nervous as hell, but you like it.

“Have you told Suguru and Shoko?”

He chuckles, remembering the conversation he had with them after you left. “I’m positive they know."

Once again, you're left staring at each other in silence, drowning in the tension you’ve created within yourselves. Satoru has yet to move his hand away from your thigh, not letting up even when he feels goosebumps spread on your skin. He tests the boundaries you have set up, finding no resistance from you when his hand reaches further up your dress.

“You’re not gonna tell me to stop?” He asks as his fingers are met with lace, a texture that makes his heart thud rapidly in his chest.

You shake your head, leaning back in the seat. His fingers ghost over the front of your panties, finding a satin bow just below the elastic band.

“Were you going to let that guy touch you? Is that why you wore these?” He hasn’t even seen them, and yet he can tell they’re the cutest thing ever.

“Maybe," you mumble, looking away in slight embarrassment.

“Can I see them?” He asks.

You nod, allowing him to slowly pull up your dress. Your heart drops when you hear him gasp.

“God, no way," he says, sounding defeated. His ears slowly turn a bright shade of red as he observes the material covering your intimate area.

“Stop,” you whine, feeling flustered by his reaction and the way he stares.

His hand returns to its previous spot, continuing to play with the part of the elastic that sticks to your hip.

“You wear these types of panties on every date you go on?”

You nod, biting your lip as his fingers move just to feel the fabric. His touch is still ghost-like—light, barely there, but it’s working you up anyway. There’s barely enough friction, yet you can feel your wetness begin to ruin the garment.

He sighs. “You know, no one deserves you.” His tone is smooth and he smiles at you, an angel taking control of his features. “Not even me, but I can make up for the one who missed you tonight.”

He spares his attention to the spot in the middle of your panties, only smiling when a breathy moan involuntarily leaves you.

“God..." you groan in embarrassment, covering your face with your hands. "I can’t with myself."

His thumb rubs up and down your clothed slit, applying pressure when he reaches your clit.

“Don’t be shy. Make as much noise as you want,” he says, luring a gasp from you.

You look away again, red-faced, feeling embarrassed beyond belief.

“What?” A low chuckle follows. His hands settle on your thighs as he leans in and tries to look at your flustered face.

“This is weird.” You look out the window, too nervous to look at Satoru.

“How come?”

You giggle. “I can’t stop seeing you as one of my friends. It’s strange to experience something like this with you.”

“I would hope Suguru and Shoko aren’t touching you like this.” His hand splays on your thigh, kneading softly. “Are they?” He asks, after a pause.

“Of course not.”

He seems satisfied with that response because he’s trying to hold back a smile, but the corners of his lips are twitching. His fingers snap the elastic band of your panties against your skin a couple more times.

“Is it too weird to go on?” He asks.

You consider the facts. He already touched you, he confessed his feelings for you before he touched you so you know he wasn't lying about his feelings for you and he doesn’t just want sex. You had those feelings for him before, but claimed to have lost them with time.

Your overwhelming thoughts are enough to put an end to what was going on. You pull down your dress, hiding the evidence of his touch, and sit up straight in the seat. “Maybe we should head home before we do something we might regret later.”

He hums and smiles, not an ounce of disappointment in his features. “No argument from me."

Satoru put his seatbelt on and watched as you did the same before starting the car. There was no need for him to set up the GPS because all he did was drive straight, so all he had to do was drive back the other way.

You didn’t expect the car ride to be so quiet. Maybe he did want things to go further. You couldn’t bear to look back at Satoru, even though you could feel him side eyeing you as he drove. There were a couple times where he turned his head to look at you when you stopped at red lights, but you knew you couldn’t look back until you had something to say. You were overthinking everything that happened until that point. What can you say when you just went through an entire roller coaster of emotions with someone you call a best friend? Someone who has now seen you in a vulnerable position.

“Did you at least eat?” Satoru asks, finally breaking the heavy silence that engulfed the car.

“Uh, yeah. I was able to get through my meal," you respond, glancing at him quickly before turning back to face the window.

He nods in acknowledgement. You see the stop sign at the end of your street, signaling the closeness of home.

Satoru parks the car in the driveway, and you finish removing your shoes. You enter the house, expecting to see Suguru and Shoko up waiting for you guys, but to your surprise, the doors to their bedrooms are shut.

“Goodnight, Satoru," you say. “Thanks again, for picking me up.”

“Yeah, no worries,” he responds. “Goodnight.”

You can’t shake the void left in your gut after your time with Satoru. You sit on your bed for a moment thinking of the intimacy that occurred between you and him. The gentleness of his touch, the lack of judgement from him when you basically told him that you dress your best even for scumbags. Something inside you was begging you to tell him how much you wanted him to sleep in your room—in your bed. And that’s exactly what you aimed for with this rush of adrenaline that surged through you. You rose off the bed quickly, and made haste to reach his bedroom.

You knocked, calling his name once. Once was all it took for him to leap to open the door.

“Can you help me with something?” You asked, hoping he held no ill will towards you and that he wouldn’t deny you.

“Sure. With what?”

You motion for him to follow you to your room, and he does with no further questions, following your bare feet as you lead him to your room.

“I tied the knot for my dress a little too tightly." You let out a quiet chuckle, your nervousness imbued into it.

“Oh, I see," he says, stifling a grin. "Turn around.” His finger circles in the air.

You turn your back to him, facing the mirror on your vanity. You can feel his knuckles grazing your lower back as he takes the time to slowly loosen the knot, the straps that once sat wrapped around your waist dropping loosely.

“There,” he murmurs, still standing behind you, looking at you through the mirror.

“Thank you,” you say so quietly that it’s almost a whisper.

Normally, that is the cue for someone to leave, but there was this branch of electricity connecting him to you. He couldn’t find a reason to step away from you, so instead he stepped closer. His arms encircled your waist, his hands interlocking above your lower abdomen. Your stomach swarmed with butterflies—blood thirsty ones that knew all too well that they wouldn't be leaving anytime soon, so long as Satoru was in your room.

He leaned in to kiss your shoulder, an act that brought goosebumps to your skin. "You look really pretty." You give in to the feeling, tilting your head to give him the entire canvas of that side of your neck. He wondered if you would be upset if you saw his kisses on your neck in the morning.

He stops and looks for your approval first because he has arrived centimeters behind the line between friends who are really comfortable with each other and something deeper. You have to let him know that it’s okay to cross this line.

“It’s okay,” you say, squeezing the hands that rest on your lower abdomen. “Don't stop."

That’s the green light he needed in order to move on. He did not hesitate at all in pulling back his arms and undoing the knot that held your dress up. He watched as the smooth velvet cascaded down your body, pooling at your feet, leaving you in nothing but those precious lace panties. You felt vulnerable with your bare chest out, but made no attempt to hide yourself.

He was frozen for a second or two, speechless at the sight before him.

“No one deserves you,” he finally says, his arms snaking around your torso. His lips start leaving behind their marks on the other side of your neck. He drags his kisses down your shoulder, biting once, then twice, resulting in a couple giggles from you.

“Close the door, please,” you say, realizing Shoko and Suguru would see what was happening if they opened their doors.

Satoru releases you only to close the door, locking it for safe measures. As soon as he’s back, he’s wrapping his arms around you before pushing both of you towards your bed. He starts stripping his clothes off, until he's left in just his boxers. His eyes never leave yours, a lovestruck smile on his face.

“You will never know how many times I’ve dreamt of this scenario."

“Stop.” You giggle, withstanding the sting of his lips on more than you neck. It’s heat on your chest and on your stomach now, his hands holding your waist so gently. You’ll look like some abstract piece of art by morning with the endless waves of kisses that Satoru gives you. He wants you so badly. Devastatingly so. He wants to prove that he is the closest to deserving you by the end of the night.

Your heartbeat is inconsolable in your ribcage. The eye contact brought some reality to the situation. He chuckles at the doe-eyed look on your face before refocusing on his task. He's nearing the elastic band of your underwear, those cute lacy ones he got to touch in the car. His touch is already affecting you, the evidence being a wet spot reemerging in the middle of your underwear.

"You're so warm and soft, and..." he sighs, your body making his mind cloud. He couldn't have ever accurately imagined how stunning you would be with just the golden street lamp's light shining through your window. "...you smell really fucking good." His hands go beneath the elastic band of your underwear, dragging his dainty fingers through your slit enough times to earn a small gasp from you, before pulling his hand out. "Bet you taste amazing, too," he says, wrapping his lips around his glossy digits. "Mhm..." he practically moans when your taste coats his tastebuds. "Sweeter than I could have ever imagined."

You don't think you'll get over Satoru saying these explicit things to you.

"More. Fuck, I need more." There's so much he wants to do to you, so little time in the night despite it only being 11:30. "God, you're so..." he cuts himself off and kisses down your stomach, impatiently—desperately. "...so pretty. So—fuck— so pretty. Gonna make you feel so good."

"Okay, 'toru, make sure to breathe," you tease, running your fingers through his soft locks as he nears your throbbing core.

He drags his nose up and down the wet patch of your panties, audibly inhaling your scent and exhaling through shuddered breaths. He sounds feral, his aching cock creating its own pool of arousal in his boxers. The tip of his nose was covered in your slick, the remnants of you on his skin driving him absolutely crazy. Once he absolutely couldn't take it anymore, he yanked your underwear down, almost tearing the pretty fabric and tossed it onto the floor. You were soaked at the sight of his pure lust towards you. Those eyes were darker than you've ever seen them before.

He tries to be slow and gentle for you. You're the one thing he's wanted for the longest time and now he has you. You're not guaranteed to be his forever, after this, but at least the night is secured and he has this one chance to prove that he would do it right with you. That he could handle your body with a tenderness and loving that would make you weep. Everything you want in a lover will be given to you in one act of demonstrating how undeniably in love with you he is.

His attempt at slow sensuality never reaches you. His arms are hooked tightly around your thighs to prevent you from squirming away from his greedy mouth. He wants everything you give him to never end. The melodic sound of you moaning his name, the sweet nectar that just keeps drooling out of your cunt, the sting on his scalp from the firm hold you have on his hair and the tugging. He's in heaven. If the possibility of this reoccurring is nonexistent, he wants this moment to loop. For there to be a glitch in real life that allows him to replay this scenario as many times as he likes, like a story with multiple endings.

"You taste so good. So fucking good, princess. Wanna give you a taste," he rambles. He unwraps his right arm from your thigh and uses his forearm to pin it down so that he can use his fingers on you. He bends all his fingers down except for his index and middle fingers. Your slick is already streaming out of you, ready to be collected, but he can't resist the urge to dip his fingertips into your pulsing hole. "Oh fuck, you're so wet," he utters in awe, quickly tossing the idea of just his fingertips going in when his long, lithe fingers sink into you with ease.

"Satoru," you choke out, a sharp gasp following. The pads of his fingers brush against that spot within you that forces you to bite your lip. Your heart is racing. What if you get caught? How would you explain what's going on to your friends and would the dynamic of your living situation change because of it? You care, but clearly not enough to second guess this moment again, like you did in the car.

"Mmm..." he moans against your clit, his lips smacking after releasing the now throbbing bundle. "So sweet." He pulls his fingers out of you and admires the glaze that drips down to his knuckles. He wants to be selfish and put them in his mouth, but his need for you to know how good you are to his tastebuds overpowers those thoughts. "Open, pretty," he says, tapping his wet fingers against your lips. He watches with parted lips as you take his slick coated digits into your mouth, shutting your lips around them to completely suck off your essence. "Good, huh?" A pleased grin appears when you nod. "Yeah... I want it back." He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and puts them on your right breast, smearing your saliva all over your nipple until it pebbles.

All you can do is say "huh?" before your lips are enveloped by his. The kiss starts out slow— he's taking a moment to appreciate how perfect your lips feel against his. For a minute you can feel the way he innocently wants you. You have butterflies in your stomach all over again.

His hunger for you grows with every sharp breath you release and the squirming beneath his unrelenting hands on your chest. Your heart has been pounding in your ears since he slipped his tongue into your mouth and you have goosebumps from all the rubbing, brushing, and tweaking he offers your nipples, the throbbing in your cunt only intensifying as you withstand it. He thinks the whimpers that seep into your kisses are the cutest sounds ever and he doesn't want them to stop, so he glides a hand down your abdomen and gives you the touch you're missing.

You break the kiss, throwing your head back into the pillow at the feeling of Satoru rubbing your clit. He watches through gleaming eyes the way your jaw hangs and allows the sweetest moans to spill from your kissed up lips.

"Feeling good?" He asks, grinning when you respond with a moan that makes you clasp a hand over your mouth. "Yeah? That's an answer, too." He chuckles, watching intently as you crumble beneath his touch, not some zero's who made a fool out of himself.

You uncover your mouth, your sounds amplifying and flowing freely. "Satoru," you gasp. "Oh, fuck– S-Satoru!" The last words you manage to cry out before you cum without a warning.

You look way too pretty arching your back off the bed and chasing friction from his hand. Your neck looks palpable like that, exposed for him like you want him to mark it up and take a few bites.

"Let me make you feel good, pretty girl," he coos, drunk off the cute sounds of the heaves and sobs that wrack through your chest, your little whines shining through them. Lustful, lidded eyes watch as you try to wriggle away from his touch.

"P-Please," you huff out, your trembling thighs working to shut around his hand. It's too much, your peak has passed and now you're left to bear the overwhelming feeling of his unstopping fingers.

"I know, I know. It's terrible..." he murmurs. His tip is leaking so much at the sight of your body jerking and your eyes welling with tears. He really loves the way you've surrendered yourself to him. "You're so pretty." He sighs, dreamily. He stops and wiggles his hand out of the tight embrace of your thighs. You take a deep breath and blink away tears, focusing on the comforting movement of his hands caressing your thighs. He can see the way you look at his body. His chest, the sculpted muscles of his abdomen, the pale happy trail that leads to a part of him that you are unfamiliar with.

He crawls over you, his lower body wedged between your legs. "Don't be scared to touch," he says, his tone sultry. He grabs ahold of your hand and places it on his chest, initiating the contact for you. You take control and allow your hands to roam his body. Like you're in a room full of random unpressed buttons, you explore the different reactions you get from touching different parts of him. You discovered that his nipples are sensitive. He groaned into your neck when you palmed at his pecs and borderline whimpered when you focused your touch on his peaks. He shuddered when you traced along his ribs, but once you neared his stomach and waist, things got hot for you all over again. Your heart raced as he breathed into your neck due to the feeling of your nails gently scratching along his abs. He was rutting his clothed bulge against your cunt, desperate, low moans leaving him with every graze of your nails along his waist.

"F-Fuck, I can't wait anymore. Please, let me in." He whips out the cutest puppy eyes you've ever seen, and though they're unnecessary, you're not opposed to him having to resort to those means.

"Y-Yeah, okay," you breathe, feeling the throbbing in your cunt intensify when he stopped rolling his hips against you.

He's rushing, his movement stuttered and his hands shaking with desperation as he works his boxers off. He's impressed with the amount of precum that went into them, but he doesn't waste time admiring the mess any longer once he frees his achingly hard, drooling cock. It's sensitive to the touch. He'll cum if he doesn't play his cards right while lathering his length with the essence that beads at his tip. With that taken care of, he comes close to you again.

"This is gonna be the slowest start ever," he says under his breath, eyeing that sweet little smile on your face, like you understand the turmoil he's going through with just trying to get inside you. His tip nudges your clit, spreading some of his precum onto the nub as he guides it up and down your slit a couple times. He's working himself up to sinking in because he knows how wet you are. After a few more strokes, he presses just the tip in, nestling it into your warmth with a groan. You gasp as he slowly drives himself into you, the stretch his girth induces proving to be immense. He tries to steady his stuttering hips as he pushes more of his length in.

"Little more, just a liiittle more," he says through soft breaths, more to himself than you. Once he glides the rest of his length in, he feels like he's going to explode. He's throbbing so hard and you're not helping at all with the brief, inconsistent spasming of your walls. "Oh fuck... shit," he whimpers, thrusting only halfway into you. "Sorry—fuck—s-sorry... I can't-" He gasps when he thrusts the rest of the way in, spewing his load as he just grinds against you.

Your eyes widen as you watch him, his eyes shut tightly, his jaw hanging ajar to release shaky breaths. His cheeks, neck and chest are blazed, bright color smothered over his pale skin.

"Shit..." he rasps, still taking deep breaths.

You can't even ridicule him for this when he looks so fine. The laugh he let out was enough to make your thighs twitch.

"It's alright, Satoru. It's getting pretty late, anyway."

"No-the-fuck it's not," he says, looking down at you with the smallest crease between his brows. He's wanted this—wanted you—for way too long and he can't leave your room without showing you just how badly he desires you. It's a need, at this point.

A chill runs down your spine and your heart drops at his response.

"I mean, i'm not tired. Are you?" He asks, softening a little after coming in so hot with his last response.

You're not and even if you were, it's those eyes... They compel you to want to do things for his sake. They're so soft and you feel wanted beneath their force. You feel everything he said to you in the car when you peer into his eyes.

"No. I'm not tired either," you respond, which instantly puts a smile on his face.

"Good. Let me try again."

Neither of you mentioned any of what happened within that quick span of time. No mentions of him spilling the second he got inside you or you trying to end the night to save him the embarrassment, and it turned out for the better. No awkwardness once he recovered and went back to proving his love for you. He went straight into it, thrusting at a slow pace to start you off. He held onto your hips as he leaned in and kissed all over your chest, sucking your delicate skin to leave little reminders of him for you to see in the morning.

He groans, muffled by your warm skin, when you scratch the back of his head, guiding your nails through the short hairs of his undercut and down the nape of his neck. He's purring like a satisfied cat, the soft breaths he lets out through his nose grazing your neck.

With all these good feelings comes Satoru picking up the pace. His hips meet yours a little more quickly and suddenly both of you get a little more courage to make more sound.

"Fuck," you whimper. "Satoru... S-Satoru..."

"I know..." he grunts. "I know, baby. I feel really good, too."

You just look so damn pretty, with your starry eyes and your messy hair, and the way you keep moaning his name. He has to kiss you again. Each time he kissed you before was accompanied by fireworks. This time... who knows? He certainly won't unless he gains the courage to do it once more.

He leans forward and stares deep into your eyes. The level of intimacy has doubled down and you feel like your heart is trying even harder to lurch out of your chest. He's not stopping, you can feel his breath on your lips as he pants through the exertion of his hips. Then, once again, with a whimper as he closes the distance between your mouths, he kisses you. It's not fireworks this time, it's an entire fire and you kissing him back like you need him just as much is fanning the wild flames.

"Love... you," he disperses the words through his kisses. He doesn't only say it once. He says it multiple times as your lips are moving, making those pauses purposeful. "Fuck– I love you," he repeats, breaking the kiss when you don't say anything. "Come on," he chuckles. "Say it back."

"Satoru..." you say, softly.

"You say it all the time to us. What's another time?"

You bite back a laugh when you see those brilliant eyes again. He knows the effect they have on people and uses them to his advantage.

"It doesn't..." he groans, cursing under his breath when you suddenly clench around him. "...have to mean anything more than it usually does."

You're hesitant, but figure that as long as he doesn't take it as more than what he's used to—at least until things are talked through—there can't be any harm in saying what he wants to hear.

"Love you, 'toru."

The words are way too sweet, too gentle on his ears. The smile you offered as you delivered those words was devastatingly beautiful. You've said this a million times, each time so friendly, so lovingly, the meaning never feigned or faded with its repetition, but in that moment, he felt the words more than he ever did before. Your plush thighs are pressed against his hips, your hands are on his chest, and he can still smell that perfume you spritzed on your skin before you left. He's never heard you like this before, so sultry that it almost seems like an invasion of privacy.

"Again... say it again, p-please." With the scene that is playing out before his very eyes, he wants to imagine you meaning it as a term for lovers.

"I-I..." you let out a sharp gasp, your words cut off by the feeling of his cock brushing against that weak spot within you. "I love y-you, Satoru."

You're saying it to him only, right now. It's not 'I love you guys', it's 'I love you, Satoru', and he's drowning in it all. Your voice, the words, the blissed out look on your face. He's weak.

"Yeah?" He laughs, sounding almost delirious from how good he feels and how he's trying so hard not to cum.

"Mhm," you respond.

"T-That's good to know," he says, breathily. He's picking up the pace again, almost knocking the wind out of you with that first thrust in the change of pace. You're scratching up his back, wrapping your legs around his waist while he moans into the crook of your neck.

"G-Gonna cum, gonna fucking cum, again."

"Please... cum inside," you babble, nonsensically.

"Yeah? You want it inside again?" He asks, grinning when you hum and nod in confirmation. Who is he to deny you of such a simple want?

With a few more harder thrusts, he's filling you to the brim again with his warm cum. He's breathing heavily into your neck, mouthing at your skin sloppily as your cunt flutters around him. He's babbling on and on asking you if you came and if you feel good, while you're trying not to cry out too loudly from how hard you did. It's only until he unsticks himself from your tacky skin that he sees the aftermath of your orgasm. Your lidded eyes, the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the sound of your shuddered breaths brushing past your lips. He's thinking about it again. No one deserves you, but clearly, he was the closest.

He tosses himself beside you once you both come down. Your blanket is shared between the two of you, it reaches just above your chest and above Satoru's hips.

He sighs as he turns over to face you as you stare up at the ceiling. "You think they heard us?" He asks, voice low and intimate, yet a mischievous smirk that tells you he wouldn't care if they did, plays on his lips.

"Not sure. I guess we'll find out tomorrow." Now it's your turn to sigh. You don't even want to think about how weird breakfast might be in the morning.

"Hey," he calls for your attention. You turn onto your side to face him, keeping the blanket close to your body. "It's gonna be fine. What's the worst that could happen? They tease us or call us dumb?" You give him a soft smile. Normally, you're the one calling him dumb while the others agree. "Don't know about you, but I don't mind. They don't know the story, anyway. Right?"

"Right."

Time slowed down in that moment. You both just stared at each other in silence, thinking about what just happened. You were comfortable together, lying there, satisfied with your decisions. He pulled you closer by your blanket covered waist and pressed kisses into your cheek, enough to make you giggle until you started returning the kisses. To anybody, this would be considered a sight of two lovers taking care of each other after a night of intimacy. The whispered words, the quiet laughter between kisses, the gentle drags of fingers on harsh marks—it all points to love. You think things might be okay, after all.

It took a while for you and Satoru to untangle yourselves from each other. Eventually, he got up and dressed into everything but his messy boxers. You weren't going to get back into your dress so you laid back for a while and watched as he collected himself.

"Well... I'll see you in the morning." His hand is on the doorknob and he's looking at you, shamelessly raking his eyes over your body as if he's trying to memorize you all over again within the short span of his goodnight to you.

"Mhm. Goodnight."

He pulls the door open, still not detaching his gaze from you. "Goodnight," he says, his voice low, yet warm and brimming with love. He spares one more soft smile for you, before walking out and clicking the door shut behind him.

You think you finally understand why he's so hung up on the way you say goodnight.

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yeahxsurexokay13 · 1 month ago

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wrong guy, lando norris

summary: fans think yn is dating max, but they've got the wrong guy [bsf!reader]

been a min since i posted! honestly, these just take me way too long and i usually end up abandoning them because i start hating them halfway through from overthinking lol. hope you enjoy this one though (: xx

y/n.y/l 📍 Ibiza, Spain

Liked by riabish, carlossainz55 and 159.870 others

y/n.y/l we only argued 3 times, cried 2, and got lost 1 (personal record)

view all 579 comments

user9 right so who argued? who cried? and most importantly whO IS THE SHADOW?

user14 can we talk about how u're LITERALLY glowing in that first pic? u look so happy, girl!!

user20 the vibes on this dump… rich people's holidays just hit different.

iamrebeccad ✓ Beautiful girl 😍

y/n.y/l 🫶🏼 miss youu!!

user4 “cried 2 times” is actually impressive ♥︎ by author

user55 lando and max just casually being brothers in the fourth pic 😩❤️

user81 that shot is just *chef’s kiss*!!!! Glad we can always count on this queen for hq content

user63 Okay so I’ve been staring at this shadow pic for like 10 minutes, and I can’t figure it out…

user33 my money’s on max bc that hug pic of them earlier too… feels very coupley.

user63 idk friends to lovers agenda thriving tho

user3 Max and Lando with the face masks are killing me 😂 ♥︎ by author

user6 max or lando? place your bets now. i’m team max but i’ll die on this hill if i'm wrong

user2 which you are, because it’s definitely Lando

user8 guys they’ve literally known each other since forever and go on these friends holidays all the time lmao this is just FRIENDSHIP GOALS. stop romanticising everything!!!

user24 then explain the head kiss?

user8 friendly head kisses???

user24 friendly kisses?? in this economy? be serious. that’s couple behaviour

user12 smells like a third wheel in here…

y/n.y/l sorry, that's just me. i am the third wheel🙋🏼‍♀️

user13 she really said 'stop shipping me with my best friends' lol

user44 max and lando with the face masks in the water might be my new favourite photo of all time

user16 ngl that's not bad statistics for a week long trip ♥︎ by author

user11 If it’s Max, I’ll cry. If it’s Lando, I’ll cry harder. If it’s neither, I don’t know what I’ll do.

user18 i’ve been following these three for years and i’m still trying to figure out if that last slide is supposed to be romantic or not….? HELP I AM SO CONFUSED

user22 what book is that? i need recommendations!!

y/n.y/l just for the summer!!! LOVED it x

user10 i can’t believe she was so chill about posting thAT LAST PIC!??!! miss y/l!!! SPILL NOW

maxfewtrell ✓ Why are you saying 'we'? Pretty sure you were the one who did all of those

landonorris ✓ classic move, shifting the blame

y/n.y/l @/landonorris @/maxfewtrell the getting lost part was definitely a team effort

user1 I need to go on a trip with friends like this ♥︎ by author

user5 being that close to lando AND max and surviving the friendship without catching feelings was too good to be true let's be honest

pietra.pilao 😍😍

y/n.y/l 💞💞

user7 so when’s the next ‘friends holiday'? asking for a friend (me)

15 August 2024

maxfewtrell ✓

Liked by landonorris, y/n.y/l and 98.982 others

maxfewtrell The real girlfriend reveal, for the record 🫡

👤 pietra.pilao

view all 398 comments

user1 WAIT WHAT

user6 so it really wasn’t Y/n??

pietra.pilao ❤️❤️ ♥︎ by author

user4 omg she's the girl who commented on yn's holiday dump!!!

user3 We owe Max and his gf an apology 😭 She’s stunning, btw

user2 omg u two are so cuteeeeeeee! happy for u max :)

user5 your gf is so pretty 😭😭😭

y/n.y/l P!!!! 💕💕

y/n.y/l you two make a better couple than you and I ever would anyway 😂 ♥︎ by author

user9 WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS EARLIER?! we’ve been spiralling for WEEKS

user12 actually he's been saying it from the beginning. we just didn't want to listen 😂😂

user8 max: “here’s my gf. leave me out of y/n’s business”

user12 OK but pietra is STUNNING!! Max, you’ve been hiding her for how long?!

user7 the way he had to clarify this because of us is actually hilarious. sorry, Max.

user11 OMG I feel so dumb now we really had y/n in a whole relationship she wasn’t even in 😭

29 August 2024

y/n.y/l

Liked by oscarpiastri, sophiaaemelia and 289.034 others

y/n.y/l outtakes from ai·bee·thuh

view all 930 comments

user1 AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!?? MYSTERY SOLVED IG

user12 I THINK THIS MIGHT BE THE GREATEST THING TO HAPPEN TO MY FEED THIS YEAR I AM NOT EVEN JOKING

maxfewtrell ✓ So Lando gets the cute video and I get the passed out in the car pic? Playing favourites, I see. Noted.

user8 Max calling out Y/n for favoritism is peak sibling energy

user33 i can't believe we were full on shipping them not even a week ago omg

maxfewtrell ✓ Also, can everyone stop tagging me in that shadow pic now? Like, I’m good, it’s definitely not me 😅 ♥︎ by author

user11 pietra honestly deserves a medal for surviving this holiday with these three omg

user17 GUYS I WAS ALREADY PRETTY SHOCKED AT LANDO'S VIDEO BLOWING A KISS I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I HAD COMING

pietra.pilao Special week 🤍 ♥︎ by author

user81 the lift photo with the McDonald’s bag is so relatable. even on a fancy holiday, you gotta have your nuggets ♥︎ by author

user25 turns out Max wasn't lying when he said y/n wasn’t his headache... lando’s the lucky one 😂

user10 and y/n and pietra? they do ✨besties ✨ better than anyone ♥︎ by author

user19 can we get a ‘whoops, my bad’ from the ppl who saw them in Ibiza and STILL missed the fact that Pietra was there?

user2 they literally had a front row seat to the full gossip and still didn’t catch on !!!!! like hELLO? u had one job

user14 THE SOFT LAUNCH TURNED INTO A HARD LAUNCH REAL QUICK I AM SHOOK

alexandrasaintmleux ✓ Ahhh loveeee 🩷🩷 ♥︎ by author

user26 both boys punching above their weight fr. i said what i said.

francisca.cgomes ✓ ❤️❤️😍 ♥︎ by author

user16 The way Max is sleeping in that last pic has me wheezing ♥︎ by author

user3 lando is literally holding y/n like he’s never letting her go boy is WHIPPED

user29 WE'RE GOING TO SEE "LANDO NORRIS' PARTNER" UNDER YN'S NAME NOW WHEN SHE WATCHES FROM THE GARAGE what a time to be alive

user7 not the way y/n is casually posting a McDonald’s bag in a robe and THEN dropping the most beautiful couple pic with lando

user5 waIT SO THE BOY KISSING HER HEAD IN THE SHADOW PIC WAS LANDO??? WE WERE ALL WRONG. I NEED TO LIE DOWN.

maxfewtrell you know, it truly baffles me how this was barely even considered

y/n.y/l no one believed in me enough to be able to pull f1 race winner lando norris. humbling.

user20 YN I - 😭😭😭😭💀💀

user38 it was a couple’s holiday the whole time 😭😭 I need a moment to recover

user9 this fandom’s clownery knows no bounds istg.........

user21 not me crying over the hard launch of the year when I was just admiring Max’s sleeping face 5 seconds ago

user24 Ibiza really gave us everything: friendship goals, couple goals, and max in a food coma

user18 IT WAS LANDO KISSING HER HEAD. I feel so betrayed by my own theories and also pretty disappointed in myself i couldn't tell it was his shadow

landonorris ✓ I see you saved the best for last 🖤

y/n.y/l ☺️☺️

y/n.y/l omg guys i wasn’t being dry i just don’t know what else to say with all you watching 😭😭

1 September 2024

#social media au #f1 imagine #f1 smau #f1 x reader #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #bsf!reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you

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nope-body · 1 year ago

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#midterms week is so stressful and for what #also losing my phone Thursday evening and only getting it back this morning meant that my functionality over the weekend plummeted #other issue is that with my fatigue I cannot handle a 3 class day- especially one that doesn’t give me time to rest #by the time I get to my last class on Mondays and Wednesdays I am like half asleep and barely capable of coherent thought #and it is an entirely discussion based class that I have to write an essay for #i have a test for one of my other classes but honestly half of it is 6th grade chemistry and the other half is environmental issues I #learned last semester so I’m not too worried #but there’s no clear prompt for the essay!! and I’m behind on the readings and barely remember classes because I’m so fatigued by the time I #get to the classroom- this isn’t even something that becomes a problem halfway through that class #honestly it usually becomes a problem a bit before my second class ends just because of how that class functions #we do small group discussions every class and I can never hear what people are saying because it’s so loud and there’s like three people who #are just. so. loud. and I can’t hear someone else talking even if they’re literally right next to me #so that saps a ton of energy #I might ask my professor if going forward I can choose to opt in or out of that part due to how much fatigue it causes and how much I #struggle just to understand what someone is saying #I also need to send an email to the ODA because they dropped the ball in a couple different ways in regards to my accommodations and I need #them to fix that. also like. I know the head of the department. we have had multiple conversations since I am the chair of the student #disability group and she is the head of the disability department #I also know multiple people working in the ODA (students) and another person who I specifically can go to if an accommodation is denied #because she will get them to revisit my case (and likely approve the accommodation)#what I’m saying is that I have Connections. but they’re worthless if I don’t know if I’ve been approved or denied an accommodation!#I’ll send them an email. cc the person I met with both this year and last year (who somehow managed to remember me?) and see what happens #one of the issues is that they approved me for an accommodation to use this application and said they’d send me a link to access my account #and they just. never did! like they approved an accommodation and then failed to provide me with said accommodation #and the last thing that the ODA wants is the person in charge of the disability group on campus to decide that they’re not doing a good #enough job because I can cause a huge commotion #I have semi-regularly emailed with one of the assistant deans. I am actively communicating with one of the organizers in our #campus’s student labor advocacy coalition (which I was a part of last year) and they are super experienced in making a big impact about #an issue. I also learned from them last year and we support each other this year so again. Connections #they really don’t want me on their bad side. should I have to threaten my way into getting my accommodations? no but I will as a last resort

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afatkidclub · 8 months ago

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Older Boyfriend Simon Riley

Thanks to the notes on my last post, I will be posting this blurb here. It's just for shits and giggles.

Older Boyfriend!Simon Riley who has been the best boyfriend you have ever had.

Refuses to let you call a handyman. Leaky sink? He had it fixed before you even knew there was a problem. Squeaky desk chair? Suddenly completely silent.

Gets really competitive with Mario Kart and refuses to play again after losing a couple of rounds. Gets really into Minecraft but doesn’t let you help build things because “You’re doing it wrong” even though you’re the one who taught him how to play

Does not understand girl math.

-- “The fuck you mean it’s not real money

-- “If I use cash, it’s free because it doesn’t come out of my account. Therefore it’s not real money.”

-- “I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

-- Now drops cash in your purse so that you have “fake” money to use.

Hates girl dinner only because he knows that a bowl of popcorn or a couple crackers and cheese is not a full meal.

A year of his life drops off every time he hears you saying “I’m doing it for the plot.”

Refuses to download tiktok but will watch them on your phone with you for hours at a time

Went on a very long lecture about the Roman Empire and how it came to be (talk specifically about the military aspect) once you mentioned something was your Roman empire. Didn’t even notice you had fallen asleep halfway through the lecture. Still doesn’t know what you mean when you say something is your Roman Empire.

Has absolutely no idea what you mean when you say “same.”

-- You had to explain that it was just something you said when you found anything relatable

-- “What the bloody hell could be relatable about a plastic bag blowing across the road.”

Has attempted to use the word slay in a sentence and it only ended with you in the longest laughing fit known to man.

Listens to you explain celebrity beef and wonders why you talk about them like you know them personally and how you know all this information.

Vine references, goes right over his head.

-- One time quoted “Road work ahead, uh yeah I sure hope it does” after you had done it so many times, you nearly choked to death on air that day.

Emojis are his worst enemy. Never gets the message when you try to hint at something using emojis.

Learns very early on that anytime you two go out for errands, you require a sweet treat.

-- Uses going out to get a sweet treat as an excuse to take you out on dates

-- Also makes sure to buy you a sweet treat anytime you complete a task you didn’t want to do.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley hcs #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost hcs #call of duty hcs #call of duty #ghost call of duty

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frecklenog · 1 year ago

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i want you all to understand this.

insulin pens are very often used by diabetic children (or their parents, but they were very easy to use during the short time i was prescribed them when i was a child myself). they’re less cumbersome, produce less waste, and are far easier than pulling insulin from a vial with a single use syringe, as syringes are much more susceptible to air bubbles, which result in the diabetic not getting enough medication. i’m explaining this part because i know that some diabetic adults do also use them, and i’m sure that that’s true of diabetic adults in palestine with such scarce resources. when it’s life or death, you can’t really be picky.

the israeli occupation is now banning insulin pens from entering gaza.

lack of insulin results in diabetic ketoacidosis — essentially a very, very dangerous version of the effects of the keto diet. insulin is a key for the sugar from one’s food (both slow and fast acting, since all food has some carbohydrates, from nuts to potatoes to table sugar) to get from their bloodstream into their cells. without insulin, the body resorts to eating through its own fat stores rather than the sugar it cannot access and tries to flush the excess glucose that is in the blood through the urine. this results in weight loss, headaches, nausea, dehydration, blurred vision, abdominal pain, impaired mental faculties, and, if left untreated, will result in a coma, and eventually death within a matter of weeks. not “can.” it will kill you if not treated, and was largely considered a lethal diagnosis until insulin was discovered in the early 1900s and made readily available in 1922.

i’ve been in dka. admittedly, i was very young and have blocked much of it out. but i do remember that it fucking sucked. i couldn’t focus on anything, i was ravenous no matter how much i ate, and the room spinning to the point i felt like i was going to throw up became an increasingly regular occurrence. i was seven years old and wasting away like i was starved. i was dying. a few more days, and i likely would’ve gone into a coma and might not be here now.

to inflict that, willingly and knowingly, on innocent people, is nothing short of a crime against humanity, and violates the geneva conventions (item 2.a.ii. torture or inhumane treatment, including biological experiments and item 2.a.iii. willfully causing great suffering or serious injury to body or health). not that the israeli occupation cares, of course, as south african prosecutors have already extensively detailed their crimes in the icj, and this one in particular has already been committed near-countless times.

this entire occupation is a genocide, and this is only one more nail in that coffin. but, as a diabetic — as a human being who has been in that state and was lucky enough to have the resources to live almost another fifteen years (with the anniversary of my own diagnosis about halfway through next month), i can’t find the words to express my disgust and rage anymore. maybe it’s selfish to be so deeply impacted by this particular blow. i don’t know. but these people have done nothing wrong but be disabled in gaza, and as someone with the same disability, i know that no one deserves this, even if they have committed a crime (which, again, these civilians, largely children, have not). i will not fucking stand for it.

we need a ceasefire. we need an end to the occupation. we need a free palestine. now.

here’s a masterpost of how you can help.

EDIT: here’s a post on how to help diabetics in gaza specifically

#free palestine #free gaza #israeli war crimes #actuallydiabetic #actually diabetic #actuallydisabled #actually disabled #shut up emrys

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atlabeth · 2 months ago

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unadulterated loathing (pt 1)

pt 2

pairing: fiyero tigelaar x fem reader

summary: you are forced to partner up with fiyero on a history project. things don’t go as you imagine.

a/n: wicked was really good, i love jonathan bailey, and we're coming up on finals season which means im writing about how stressed i am. also halfway through this i realized reader is lowkey paris geller coded lmao. this got away from me so im splitting it into 2 parts, i had a lot of fun writing it so enjoy! also im high posting this so if there's any editing issues im sorry lol!!

wc: 5.5k

warning(s): reader is stressed to the max constantly. she is kinda mean to fiyero but he's into it so it's okay. mostly fluff

Your fingers were beginning to cramp.

You should have been used to this by now with Doctor Dillamond. You’d been in his class for a few months now, and you graded essays for him often. He often had a propensity for verbosity, but this lecture had been an especially hefty one in preparation for your midterm projects.

He would be announcing partners before the end of class—much to your dismay, for you worked far better on your own than with others holding you down—and you figured you would want to have as much of a head start as possible.

Great Oz, how you hoped you would be paired with one of your friends. Coralie and Ezura were your only contenders for top of the class—Elphaba had potential as well, not because of the magic she couldn’t control but because of the brain she very well could—and anyone else would frankly slow you down. Doing a large research paper with someone who didn’t care as much as you did would be a drag you didn’t care to go through.

Midterms were only the most important thing, for they set the track towards finals and affirmed your skill with your assignments, and your first midterm was potentially the most important thing for, when completed successfully, set you on the correct track altogether.

You tried not to think about it too much (though you failed almost immediately), for you were sure Doctor Dillamond would honor all the work you’d done for him by putting you with a suitable partner.

“I see some of you are getting restless, so I will cut class short today.” Your eyes snapped up from your paper to see the professor smiling, and you could hear sighs of relief around the room. “I’m sure you’re all eager to know your partners for the midterm paper.”

The sighs of relief turned to groans, and you had to agree. Assigned partners should have been considered archaic at this point in time.

Doctor Dillamond trotted back to the projector and, with a bit of difficulty, replaced the image with a piece of paper. Everybody in the class was paired off in groups of two—you immediately started searching for your name, squinting slightly to see despite your spot in the front, and the furrow between your brows deepened when you realized you couldn’t find it.

You searched instead for your hopeful options. Coralie was with Mayara, Ezura was with Nicholas, Elphaba was with Galinda—of course. You let out a slight huff of annoyance, not just at your disappointment but at the continued lack of your name.

Perhaps he’d merely forgotten. You didn’t know how Dillamond could have forgotten you, seeing as you were only his best student and literal TA, but things happened. Your anxieties only grew as you heard the beginnings of whispers throughout the room as your classmates saw their pairings, either excited or dismal.

“Class is dismissed,” Doctor Dillamond said. The room began bustling as students gathered their things, already talking with their friends or searching out their project partner—you heard Galinda squeal and saw her grab Elphaba’s hands out of your peripherals. You could only worry your lip between your teeth as you swept everything in your bag, hardly waiting a second before rushing up to Dillamond’s desk.

“You didn’t call my name, professor,” you said, managing a smile as you tried to act like it wasn’t killing you. How could he have not called your name? Was there something wrong? Great Oz— had you been somehow moved out of the class? Was your work not exemplary enough? Your assistance not assisting enough? “I don’t have a partner.”

His mouth opened, but you only found yourself continuing, the words practically tumbling out of you.

“Of course, if you intended for me to be on my own then I am perfectly alright with that!” Your smile widened as your fingertips dangled over his desk. “I— I prefer it, in fact, so if that is it then there is really no issue at all—”

“Mr. Tigelaar!” he interrupted, and your head turned on instinct to see the eponymous boy arm in arm with Galinda (who was arm in arm with Elphaba) just in front of the door. “I hope you are not about to leave.”

Fiyero flashed a look at his companions before offering one of those easy smiles he seemed to always have up his sleeve. “You dismissed the class. I believe I am part of your class, am I not?”

“You are,” he said, “but you were not assigned a partner. Surely you wouldn’t be trying to get out of the project.”

Your free hand clenched as the threads started to connect. Doctor Dillamond wouldn’t do this to you. Would he?

That easy smile remained on his lips as he turned to Galinda and whispered something in her ear. She giggled and pecked him on the cheek before she walked out, pulling Elphaba behind her, and Fiyero sauntered over.

“Of course I’m not trying to get out of it,” he said. “Whyever would you think so?”

“Your attempt at a quick exit before you could be assigned a partner,” the professor said. “But it is no matter, for your partner is right here.”

You blinked. He would do this to you.

Why would he do this to you?

“Well, pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand. “Fiyero Tigelaar.”

You ignored him, for you couldn’t look away from Doctor Dillamond. Would it be mad for you to strangle a Goat?

“Professor,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “why?”

“Mr. Tigelaar’s grades in my class have not been satisfactory, as I’m sure he is aware.” Dillamond moved away from his desk, prodding the chalkboard with his head to move it out of the way. “I care about all my students, even if they seem not to care for my course. I believe a partnership for the two of you would be beneficial.”

Your jaw clenched. “So you’re forcing me to tutor him because he hasn’t got a brain.”

Fiyero chuckled. “Ouch.”

“Not tutoring, just working on your midterm together,” he said. “And if you end up teaching him a few things along the way, then we would all be better off, wouldn’t we?”

“Professor, with all due respect, this is ridiculous!” you exclaimed. “Why should I have to risk my grade, my midterm, my standing altogether at Shiz just to help him?”

“Should you perform the way that is typical of you, there should be no issues.” Doctor Dillamond gave you that professorly look and your teeth grinded against each other. How dare he try to take the moral high ground. “Now, the two of you better hurry off. You haven’t got forever to work on this project.”

“Professor,” you whispered, determined to not let up, “why are you punishing me like this?”

“I’m not punishing you, my dear.”

“Fiyero couldn’t care less about any of this,” you insisted. “I’m going to fail my midterm and it will be all his fault!”

“If you believe he can make you fail, then you haven’t got as much faith in yourself as I believed.” Doctor Dillamond looked at you. “Trust me—and yourself—that this will all work out.”

You stared back—it was rather difficult to have a staring contest with a Goat. “I don’t suppose I can change your mind on this?”

“You’d be correct.”

You huffed and glanced away. “Fine. But expect those test scores to take an extra day.”

He let out a bleaty sort of laugh while you walked away. You considered it a credit to yourself that you held back the childish tantrum you wanted to throw as you moved back over to your desk to gather the rest of your things. You shoved your books into your bag with a bit more anger than necessary, and you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over to see Fiyero sidled up beside you, leaning against the desk next to yours.

“Surely you won’t be this irritated at me the entirety of our project.” He still had that unbothered smile on his lips, and it made you want to hit him. “It might make this a much more miserable partnership.”

You let out a mirthless laugh as you shouldered your bag. “Don’t act like this pains you. You’re just going to ride my coattails the entire time.”

“You know, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Fiyero mused. “But now that you bring it up, I just may have to.”

“For the love of Oz,” you muttered to yourself before mustering the strength to look up at him. “I have a myriad of things I need to do today. Why don’t you go bother your girlfriend for the rest of the day, and then you can meet me at the library first thing tomorrow morning so we can discuss all of this.”

He shrugged. “Sounds alright to me.”

“Good,” you said. “Because I meant every word I said back there. I will not have you ruining all my progress thus far because of your absolute refusal to think.”

“It looks as if you could take a page out of my book,” Fiyero said. “You seem awfully stressed.”

Your lips tightened into a mirthless smile. “I’m stressed because of you, Fiyero, and we have hardly even interacted. I dread to think of my mental state after a week of working together. Now, good day. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You swept past him and walked out of Doctor Dillamond’s classroom. You felt his eyes on you until you turned the corner, and you had to resist the urge to look back.

Oh, how you loathed group projects.

The rest of your day was far more demanderating than it should have been, and you blamed Fiyero for it. You swore the clock went by half as quick and your lectures twice as long—it didn’t help that you were so distracted in chemistry that you nearly burned your eyebrows off from a potion gone wrong.

You’d practically thrown yourself onto your bed when you got back to your dorm, and you didn’t get up until your roommate got back and demanded to know what had gotten into you. She didn’t exactly give you the response you wanted.

“The prince is your partner?” Coralie sighed dreamily. “Oh, you are so lucky.”

“Lucky is not the way I’d put it,” you mumbled, words muffled by the sheets. You finally tore yourself up off your bed and picked your nightgown up from atop your dresser. You went behind your folding sheet and began to change. “And I didn’t know you had eyes for Fiyero.”

“I hardly have eyes for him,” she said wryly. “I just have eyes—anyone can see that he’s attractive.”

“It doesn’t matter how attractive he is if he makes me fail this midterm,” you said. You straightened your nightgown then folded your school uniform while you walked back into the open, passing a glance at your roommate as you placed it on your desk. You then settled on your bed with a huff. “I just don’t understand why Doctor Dillamond is punishing me like this. It makes me reconsider all those late nights spent grading papers for him.”

Coralie shrugged. “You’re one of his best students, Fiyero is probably one of his worst. I bet Doctor Dillamond figured you would be happy to take him on, what with how happily you take on everything else he throws at you.”

You grumbled as you laid back against your pillows. “I just don’t know if I can take him on. Fiyero seems to care more about flirting with every student at this school than any actual material.”

She gave you a mischievous smile. “Maybe he’ll turn the full force of his affections on you in return for your studiousness. Oh, how that would be a sight to see.”

“Don’t even put that idea into the air, Cora,” you scoffed. “Besides, he’s clearly involved with Galinda. Even if I was interested, which I’m not—” you emphasized with a pointed look at her— “that isn’t something I want to touch.”

“Well, you can’t deny that he’s dreamy,” she said. “He just showed up at Shiz and people started falling left and right. It’s more impressive that you haven’t.”

“Because I’m here for one reason,” you said. “His whole… thing doesn’t fit into any of it.”

“I know,” Coralie mused as she fell back onto her pillows. “You’ve told me your whole plan ten times over. I just think you should also try to enjoy your life instead of bulldozing your way through it.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I’m enjoying my life just fine, thank you.”

Interestingly enough, Fiyero was going through something similar a myriad of rooms away.

He laid on Galinda’s bed, his head in her lap as she trailed her fingers through his hair. She’d been going on about something for the last couple of minutes, but he hadn’t really been able to focus on any of it.

“Dearest, did you not hear what I said?”

Fiyero blinked at the sound of Galinda’s voice. He hadn’t indeed.

“I’m sorry, beloved.” He absentmindedly reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze once he found it. “I was thinking.”

Elphaba laughed from across the room. She sat on her bed with a book in her lap. “That’s a first for you.”

“It is,” Galinda said, though with much more concern laced in her voice. Her hand moved from his hair to his forehead. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Just fine,” he assured. “What was it you were saying?”

“Just lamenting on how awful it is that we’ve been separated for this project,” she sighed. “I’m sure I could persuade Doctor Dillamond to put us in a group of three.”

“You can’t even get him to pronounce your name correctly,” Elphaba said wryly. “How could you get him to do this?”

“Well,” Galinda huffed, “maybe you could do it. He appears to like you more than me.”

“I’m sure that really hurts,” she said.

Galinda placed her hand on her chest. “It does!”

“It’s fine,” Fiyero interrupted. “I’m alright with my partner. She’s nice.”

“Nice?” Elphaba scoffed. “I heard her lecturing you the whole time we were out in the hallway.”

“She’s passionate,” he decided. “Besides, I don’t really care. I haven’t thought about it since she left.”

That was a complete lie. In truth, Fiyero hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you left. Very strange for someone who preferred to go through life with less thinking and more doing.

He honestly didn’t know why his mind was so occupied with you.

He’d always been aware of you, obviously—all your professors adored you, your name was always brought up when talking about top of the class, and he was sure you held the record for most time spent in the library at once—but he didn’t know anything about you other than your academic record. And for someone with such strong opinions, especially about him, Fiyero found himself with the strange need to know more.

He would be at the library tomorrow. Maybe not on time, but certainly there.

Fiyero would make this the beginning of a beautiful partnership, one way or another.

True to your word, you were in the library bright and early after a quick stop at the dining hall. You went through the effort of gathering everything you thought you would need—a myriad of textbooks and encyclopedias, your well-weathered notebook and another one for Fiyero because you doubted he had one, and enough writing material for the two of you.

You sighed. You had to do so much just to even the ground between your groups and the others. Coralie was always so prepared whenever you worked together.

Fiyero, to your surprise, was only ten minutes late. You already had your head buried in a book when he said your name and scared you witless.

Your eyes widened as they darted up to look at him, and he chuckled.

“Sorry. You were in the zone.”

“I just wasn’t expecting you,” you said. “You’re late.”

“Hardly.” Fiyero took the seat across from you, his eyes sweeping over everything you had on the table. “You’ve got quite a collection.”

“I doubt you know your way around the library,” you said.

“I know my way around a lot of things.”

You leveled your gaze at him. Leave it to Fiyero to make everything an innuendo. “And is a library one of them?”

“I’m sure I could make it one.”

“If you bothered to think at all.”

“Darling, you know I’d never,” he said with a smile. “Now, what are we doing here?”

“Do you really not know what our midterm is?” you marveled.

“I have more important things to worry about,” he said.

You scoffed and shook your head. Ridiculous— it was ridiculous that you had to put up with this. Maybe Doctor Dillamond really did hate you.

“Our assignment is an extensively researched ten page paper on any great Ozian,” you said. “Anyone who has contributed to our society in a relevant way and made our lives better for it.”

“A ten page paper?” Fiyero frowned. “That seems a bit much.”

“Between the two of us, it’s just five pages each, and we’ve got two weeks to get it done,” you said. “I’ve written five pages in a few hours of inspiration.”

“Your life truly sounds thrilling,” Fiyero said. “We could do the Wizard.”

“Half the class is going to do the wizard,” you scoffed.

“Because he’s a great man,” he said. “There’s no shame in it.”

“There is absolutely shame in copying half the class,” you said as you pushed over a sheet of paper to him. “Now, I’ve already got a list going. Look it over; see if there’s anyone you like or anyone worthwhile you want to add.”

You looked back down at your encyclopedia, opened to your personal favorite choice, and continued scribbling down basic notes. You glanced up a few moments later to see Fiyero’s gaze hadn’t wavered from you.

You frowned. “Is there a problem?”

“You’re awfully prepared,” he said instead.

“I figured you wouldn’t be,” you responded.

Fiyero’s lips quirked in a smile. “Then I believe that means you deserve to choose our subject.”

Your frown deepened. “Really?”

“Are you always this suspicious of everyone?”

“Just you.”

“Then consider this an olive branch,” he said. He slid the paper back over. “Who’s your top choice?”

“…Ilara Mayfair,” you finally said as you pointed at her on the top of your list. “She was a historical linguist, responsible for half of what we know about Ozian languages and how they connect and differ. She’s…” you cleared your throat and shrugged, trying to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, “she’s kind of my hero.”

“Your hero?” Fiyero’s eyebrows rose. “Is that what you want to do?”

“…It’s always been my dream,” you admitted. “I grew up helping around my parents’ bookstore and her mark was on nearly everything. I really admire it. I want to make that sort of difference in the world.”

“How noble,” he remarked. What surprised you was how genuine he sounded. “It’s impressive how much of your life you have planned out already. All Galinda knows is that she’s majoring in sorcery—she hasn’t really got anything else worked out.”

“What are you majoring in?” you asked.

“Undecided,” Fiyero said. “I was kicked out of my last school before I could declare, so I figure there’s not really a point in doing it here.”

“Not really a surprise,” you said.

“Really?”

“On your first day, you snuck off campus with half of Shiz to go dance at Ozdust,” you said. “That’s not exactly a good first impression.”

“I’d argue the opposite,” he said. Fiyero tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he focused on you for a moment. His gaze made you uncomfortably aware of yourself. “I don’t recall seeing you there.”

“That’s because I wasn’t there.” You looked back down at your encyclopedia to avoid his eyes. “I had more important things to do.”

He frowned. “Do you ever take a day off?”

“Of course,” you said. “There isn’t any class on the weekends.”

“I mean with this,” he said, gesturing at all the books around you. “It doesn’t seem like you allow yourself a single moment of respite. When you’re not in class, you’re studying. When you’re not studying, you’re doing work. When you’re not doing any of it, you’re probably dreaming of your future assignments.”

You felt your skin heat. Surely you weren’t that transparent.

“...I don’t dream of them,” you defended. “Not— not always.”

He laughed and shook his head. “You’re ridiculous. Do you know that?”

You frowned. “How am I ridiculous? You’re incapable of taking a single thing seriously.”

“And you’re incapable of not taking everything seriously,” Fiyero said. “It can’t be good for your health.”

“I plan to get out of here a year early,” you said, looking back at your books. “I can’t slack off like you do if I want that plan to come to fruition.”

“Oh, I’ve gotten out of every school I’ve been in a year early,” Fiyero said. “Sometimes two or three— Oz, sometimes I don’t even make it through the first semester.”

Your eyes snapped back up to him, widened in instinctual panic. “What?”

He burst out laughing, and it grinded every one of your gears. “Oh, I wish you could see the look on your face! It’s priceless— truly priceless!”

“You’ve been kicked out of every school you’ve been to and you think it’s a joke?”

Still laughing, he shrugged. “It is. Nothing bad has happened, and I’m still having the time of my life wherever I go.”

You just shook your head as you stared at him, eyes still wide. “Are you always like this?”

“Utterly charming?”

“Entirely insufferable.”

You didn’t understand how he laughed. Everything rolled right off him, like oil off a duck’s back, no matter how many times you insulted him.

“You know, there are other things to life than your studies,” he said.

“Not while I’m here, there isn’t,” you said. “It’s the whole point of university.”

“The point of university is to have fun,” he said. “You’ve seen how this place has perked up since I’ve gotten here, haven’t you?”

“Not really, no,” you said. “I’ve been more focused on other things.”

“Like?”

“Like my studies.”

“It’s like I’m talking to a broken record,” he marveled. “Have you ever had fun in your life?” His eyes widened comically. “Do you even know what the concept of fun is?”

“Ha ha,” you said dryly.

He tilted his head. “Do you?”

You frowned. “Of course I do.”

“Okay, then.” Fiyero leaned back in his chair. “Tell me about yourself.”

Your frown deepened. “We aren’t doing a research paper on me.”

“We’re working together on this,” he said. “Is it a crime to want to know my partner?”

A muscle worked in your jaw as you stared at him. He stared back, entirely unaffected.

“If I humor you, will you actually work with me through this?”

Fiyero held up his hand. “Prince’s honor.”

Finally, you broke. You folded your arms with a short sigh then glanced away. “Fine. I’m from a tiny village in Gillikin that you’ve probably never heard of. I’m here on scholarship with the plan to graduate, become a historian, and make a name for myself.” You looked back at him. “Is that good enough for you?”

“It’s excellent,” Fiyero said with a smile. “Dare I say I’ve learned more about you in one short day than I have in the entirety of my time at Shiz?”

You gave him a fake smile as you tapped your book. “Open your textbook. We have a lot to catch up on.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re not going to ask about me?”

“I mean this with all due respect—what could there possibly be to know about you?” You raised an eyebrow as you counted off on your fingers. “You’re from the Vinkus, you’re a prince, and you’ve never read a book a day in your life.”

“Oh, that’s not true,” he chastised. “I’ve read at least one—I just choose not to.”

“Well, how about we make that two?” You reached across the table and opened his book for him. “Unless that prince’s honor isn’t worth a thing.”

“Oh, it’s worth everything,” Fiyero said.

You raised your eyebrows expectantly. “Then prove it.”

“Very well,” he nodded. “I believe I can be serious for the next… fifteen minutes.”

“You won’t even get through a chapter,” you said. “Thirty.”

Fiyero frowned. “You set awfully high expectations.”

“Why do you think Doctor Dillamond forced me to help you?” you asked.

“Because you’re oh so nice and charitable?”

That got a genuine laugh out of you. If you’d been looking closer, you would have seen Fiyero’s smile grow, his eyes soften.

“Of course. Now, go to the glossary, find Ilara, and start writing. I know practically everything about her already, so you need to catch up.”

“I don’t have—”

You held out your extra notebook and fountain pen and cocked your head. “Don’t have what?”

Fiyero chuckled as he took them from you. “You’re prepared for everything, aren’t you?”

“Always,” you said with a satisfied smile. “Now get reading, my prince.”

He pressed his hand to his chest and bowed his head. “At once, my lady.”

You looked at the clock on the wall. Fiyero should have been here by now.

Granted, he was ten minutes late to your first meeting, but that was before he’d changed your expectations ever so slightly. Almost an hour had passed, and there was still no sign.

Of course, it wasn’t as if it hindered your progress. You kind of always expected him to fall short—if he showed at all, that was a credit to him—so you already had half the outline done. But a small part of you that you’d never admit to might have actually been looking forward to his presence.

You enjoyed the bout of verbal sparring he engaged you in. A lot of your classmates thought you were mean, and it never bothered you. Like you told Fiyero, you were here for one reason and one only, and the amount of people that liked you at university didn’t influence that at all. Your professors liked you and your grades were perfect—that was all.

But you couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t… nice. For Fiyero to take everything you said in stride, with a smile and a retort of equal measure.

It was nice. But that was all.

You were jarred out of your thoughts by someone calling your name. You looked up to see Fiyero sauntering over, bearing his usual smile and not much else.

“This is a library,” you said once he got closer. “You aren’t supposed to shout.”

He took the seat across from you. “I’d hardly call that shouting.”

“You aren’t meant to be loud,” you decided. “Why are you so late?”

Fiyero shrugged. “I lost track of time?”

“You know, we are partners,” you emphasized your last word, “so it would be helpful if you could try to put in the same amount of effort as me.”

“That seems impossible.” He gestured at your notebook with his head, your current page already nearly full. “You’ve got me beat on nearly everything.”

“It’s not that difficult,” you intoned. “I mean, just do some research outside of class.”

He stared at you expectantly, and you rolled your eyes. “I don’t know what I expect with you, honestly.”

“Exactly what you see, darling. Now,” Fiyero's gaze drifted over to the window, then looked back at you as he stood up, “what do you say we put a hold on things and enjoy this beautiful day?”

Your brows furrowed. “What, you mean do our research outside?”

“Is your work truly all you think about?” he asked in exasperation. “I mean leave the books and your notes and your stress here, and take a stroll around campus.”

“I’ve had my entire life planned out since I was ten years old,” you said. “Of course it is. I am not going to have some— some—”

“Some what?” Fiyero interrupted. He still looked remarkably unaffected by your outburst, that sideways smile of his infuriatingly charming.

“Some ridiculous, pompous, self-absorbed, lazy Winkie prince ruin it!” you exclaimed.

“Lazy,” he mused. “That’s a new one.”

“Of course you’re lazy! Why would we take a break when we have a project to do?”

Fiyero looked at you like you were crazy— no, like he was worried about you. He shook his head. “You really do have a one track mind.”

“When we’re in midterm season, yes, I d— what are you doing?”

Fiyero had started stacking all of the books you had on the table away from you, then he grabbed your notebook and your pen out of your hand.

“You need a break,” he said.

“I don’t need a break, and give that back—”

You reached for your materials but only just grazed his hand before he pulled them back and set them on top of the pile. “When was the last time you saw the sun?”

You scoffed. “I see the sun all the time.”

“Not from a window in the library or your dorm.”

You bit your tongue. Fiyero smiled and held out his hand.

“You need a break.”

You stared at his hand. He gave you a cloying look.

“It’s not a good sign that you’re this against self-care,” he said wryly.

You sighed and reluctantly placed your hand in his. “Fine.”

Fiyero grinned and he pulled you close. You yelped at the unexpected speed and you tumbled into his chest. Fiyero’s hand dropped to your waist, and for a moment all you could do was stare at him, wide eyed.

“Shall we?” he murmured.

You jolted away from him once you came back into yourself, your skin burning where he’d touched you.

“We shall,” you said, a bit too forcefully as you started walking a bit too fast.

Fiyero chuckled. He matched your pace easily, soon coming up beside you. “You’re already that excited?”

“Oh, shut up,” you bit out. “You’ve already gotten what you want. No need for more.”

He feigned naivety. “What would I possibly be doing?”

You shook your head with a huff. “I’m not entertaining that with a response.”

Fiyero simply hummed. You glanced over at him, still staying even with you, and then you let out another huff as you stopped. He didn’t miss a beat, pausing at the same time as you, then met your flustered expression with a smile.

“Yes?”

“You’re the one that wanted to do this,” you said, gesturing in front of you with a hand. “So lead the way.”

“Gladly,” he said. “I’m very good at taking the lead.”

Fiyero started walking and, though you had half a mind to take the opportunity and dart back to the library, you found yourself following him.

Cora’s words spun around your head as you and Fiyero walked together, about him turning the full force of his flirting on you in return for you being such a stickler for your midterm.

That was the embarrassing thing; you didn’t even think this was half of it, and he already had you blushing—and for what? It was as if you’d never even talked to a boy before.

You’d had plenty of experience back home. Village boys coming into your parents’ store to flirt at you, leaving notes in your desk in class, offering to walk you home at night—plenty of experience.

It didn’t matter that you denied them all and never went anywhere because you had a one track mind even then, and that Fiyero had done what no one else had and gotten you take a break simply because he asked nicely—

You sucked in a sharp breath as Fiyero’s arm suddenly pressed against your chest, stopping you in place. Your head snapped up to look at him, mouth already open with questions loaded, but he gestured with his head before you could ask any of them.

You’d nearly barreled right down the stairs from being lost in your head, without care nor consideration for actually taking the steps.

“Mind the gap, darling,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you damaging that brain of yours.”

“…Thank you,” you said once you’d regained the ability to speak words again. “One of us ought to have one.”

Fiyero laughed as he took his arm away. “Certainly.” He used it to gesture down the stairs. “Ladies first—unless you’re unsure of your ability to conquer them.”

“I’ll be just fine, Fiyero.” You started the descent, Fiyero right behind you, and you let out another short sigh.

There had to be something wrong with you. That was the only explanation for why you were acting this way.

Maybe you really did need to start getting more sleep.

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