#im sorry btw. i don’t like the lighting either

[housecow]

fat. AND round

[pallases]

quite pleasantly surprised by wicked movie but i Will say we were robbed of elphaba leaning in close to glinda saying “come with me to the emerald city” followed by glinda’s “i’ve always wanted to see the emerald city” while looking deep into her eyes arms around her shoulders twirling elphaba’s hair

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

IT’S YOU, HAPPY ALL THE TIME ─── jonathan breech ✧☾𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I ask Jessica what drowning feels like and she says not everything feels like something else." — ‘Jessica gives me a chill pill’, Angie Sijun Lou.

pairing. jonathan breech x reader

summary. you’ve bared your heart to your bestfriend, jonathan, more times than you can count, whilst knowing practically nothing at all about him. what is friendship if it is not equal… what is love if it is not returned? can your relationship survive such one-sidedness?

warnings. swearing, TW mention & description of suicide/attempts & depression, very introspective/kind of a character study???, alcohol & drug use, pining, ANGST!!!!, crying, fluff, smut with feelings, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (f), SMUT UNDER THE CUT! 

word count. 10k (WTF??!?!!??)

a/n. the title is from “she won’t go away” by faye webster:) btw this is… rly angsty (and SO long omg im still in shock) so beware🫡 ALSO IM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING IN WHILE!! SCHOOL IS KICKING MY BUTT & THIS FIC WAS AN ABSOLUTE MONSTER TO WRITE LMAO

i. 

There are very few words in your vocabulary you can use to accurately describe Jonathan Breech. 

The boy is an enigma, a matryoshka doll that never ends: he is witty and lighthearted and sarcastic, but you’ll always catch that edge, the air of malaise he carries around himself, the unspoken elephant in the room that screams WHO ARE YOU REALLY?

He had always been more of a figure, a landscape; something to witness, observe-- experience without letting it do the same to you. You don’t know if that’s something you want, either: there’s an imbalance in his hilarity, and he always takes things a step too far. Jonathan lights matches and lets them burn all the way down to his fingertips; he shaves and lets the blade leave stinging little nicks, rivulets of blood running down his neck; he chainsmokes cigarettes in his room and only opens the window when he feels his heart hammering in his chest, desperate for air. 

You meet him — or, first experience him in a similar fashion: he had been in the university library, standing on top of a creaky, old bookshelf, shouting something you couldn’t understand over the music blasting through your headphones. You could certainly see him though, gesturing animatedly, dressed eccentrically in his signature winter trapper hat and a velvet blazer. That thin, effeminate figure of his was making winding, marionette-ish steps along the wood, an action that had everyone readying themselves to catch his inevitable fall. 

Then, seemingly out of nowhere and catching you completely off guard, you caught his eye. He began stepping from one shaky shelf to the next, a complete miracle none of them toppled over, before stopping on one close enough for you to read his lips. 

“Hi,” he mouthed, shifting uneasily on his left foot before regaining a steady balance, “you’re in my class, right?”

You nodded, hesitantly— yes, truthfully, you’d seen him in your Introduction to Literary Studies course a couple of weeks ago, sporting the same outfit as he did now, but you thought nothing of him. He’d been generally well-behaved then, asking slightly odd but in-tune questions that more or less answered all your inquiries, so you didn’t think the guy would have a penchant for, well… book-shelf hopping. 

He grinned, about to say something else, before something — or someone, made him flinch. A professor, probably, considering the unintelligibly muffled, booming voice behind you. However, Jonathan made quick work of the situation, sneakily climbing down and escaping out the door. 

The next time you see him, he’s sidled up beside you in your shared class. “Mind if I sit here?” a familiar voice had asked, to which you murmured a non-committal knock y’self out, before realizing with wide eyes.  His presence had caught you off-guard, as he so often did, and you sensed a pattern blooming. 

Jonathan certainly made for an odd desk-partner; his personality warped the environment around you, and it was suddenly so much easier to tear your eyes away from the lecture and land on Jonathan’s own. It’s something you never thought you’d ever do, because you adore the material being taught. 

At the end of class, he asks you out for a drink: he’s just found the best Irish stout in the entire city, and what better way to make it known than to take anyone and everyone he knows there?

Rejection is written on your face clear as day— you have class tomorrow, an essay that needs to be finished, and honestly, pubs just aren’t really your scene. 

But in the end… you still bite. You can’t help it: he’s disarming and warm and looks like he should smell like a bonfire. Somehow, that just does it for your brain; it’s here you learn of the charm that is Jonathan Breech. 

That night goes everything and nothing like you expected: you expected not to be able to predict his actions, and that’s exactly what happens. When you meet Jonathan at the aforementioned pub, it’s not actually the one he’s meaning to take you to— it’s just the closest public place to the on-campus dorm, which is where he says he’s rooming. 

“‘ve got a neighbor m’pretty sure is trying to sleep with me,” he says absently, ushering you onto the back of his bike, which had been leaning against a NO PARKING sign. “He’s always toget’er wit’ our dorm advisor, so I should l reject him before I get kicked out, if y’get what I mean.”

Now, you honestly should’ve expected this from a guy who jumped from six-foot book shelves, but Jonathan’s biking is all swift turns and jilted stops, mere milliseconds from repeatedly running red lights. You want to ask if he just learned how to ride the thing yesterday, but can’t, not with how utterly reckless and shameless he is about it, his terrible steering making you instinctively wrap your arms around his chest. 

You clutch him tightly, making him hum in approval, and you feel your ears burn flusteredly. You would’ve pulled away, but then he cut from the right lane to the left in one swift move, barely missing several cars, and you practically shrieked instead. “Oh my god!”

“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly. You can’t see his face, having shut your eyes in fear, but after hearing the blatant cheekiness in his tone, you can imagine clear as day how gleefully it contorts. You want to slap him somewhere, anywhere, but that’d defeat the point of being mad at his recklessness, so you squeeze him tighter instead, and he chokes on his breath. “Jesus-- m’sorry, really!”

When the two of you make it to the pub — alive and uninjured! — annoyingly all the way across town, your first few steps off his bike are stuttered, dizzy: “We are-- not going by bike next time,” you gasp, leaning against a random brick wall. 

“Next time, eh?” He grins, and this time you really do slap him— just on the arm, bless your self-control and niceties not to beat this oddly comfortable-to-be-around near-stranger to death. 

The pub, with its forgettable name and dingy stools, has a minimal, lackluster crowd. A kitschy neon sign flickers and dies as you walk in, making you raise a brow, but Jonathan merely drags you by the arm to a cozy corner table, then disappearing deeper within the venue before returning moments later with two pints of black beer in tow.

“Go on, then,” he gestures, setting the tall glass on the table, sitting down in the chair in front of you and taking a hearty sip of his own drink.

You let out a little hesitant sigh at his words, before relenting and taking in a long gulp of the liquid. “…Huh,” you remark, impressed. Jonathan smiled knowingly behind his glass, letting out a smug little ah, you see? 

“Worth the long ride?” he inquired innocently, as if that was the only thing wrong with the night.

“Worth the ride, but not worth almost dying for,” you rolled your eyes goodheartedly, knocking back the rest of the bitter drink and making him whistle. 

The rest of the night goes like this: Jonathan orders two more rounds of the quality Irish stout before the two’ve you are stumbling out of the pub, exploring all the nightlife there is to offer, like the crowd surrounding an out-door live comedy group performing down the street that has you and Jonathan giggling for hours after, or the underground speakeasy you accidentally find yourselves shoved into, a nasally guitarist singing on a smoky stage, several more drinks finding themselves in your system despite how nauseous you already feel.

“You-- d’you fancy him?” Jonathan slurs behind you, steadying himself by pressing his hands to your waist.

“F-fancy who?” you blink blearily, leaning into his warm touch.

“Who else m’I talkin’ about, girl? The singer!”

You shake your head no numbly, practically collapsing into his arms now, your head lulling on his chest. You’re so close you can smell the distinct scent of his skin, that unique musk everyone has, and it’s strangely familiar, like those smells that evoke old, nostalgic memories. It’s like how sunscreen summons the smell of the sun after a childhood beach day, or how vanilla extract takes you back to the smell of your mother’s baked goods on a specific winter evening.

“Reckoned you wouldn’t,” he assumes, hands coming away from your waist to wrap his arms around your shoulders, swaying to the music slightly in the crowded club, “looks like a -- right bleedin’ dope… wit’ that mop of hair.”

You giggle, alcohol riddled beyond belief, unable to formulate a response with the conflicting blurry thoughts in your head: it’s telling you Jonathan Breech isn’t the crowd you want, that you need to go home and work, that you let loose too easily— but it also tells you that you can see yourself becoming friends with him very, very quickly. 

It’s there, in that club, Jonathan Breech moves into your life and fills a gaping hole you didn’t know existed, like a hole in your stockings you only notice when you get home. You have friends, certainly, more than you can count on both hands, but they never get as close as Jonathan does. After that night, an unknown force pulls the two of you together, making you run into him everywhere, and a tight friendship blooms like a lilypad in a raging storm; beauty within the chaos. In the multitude of close friendships you’ve harbored, he is the first to see so many sides of you. The last thing that did was your mother; it had only ever been your mother. 

He is an endearing, amazing friend, both the intent listener and the charismatic speaker all at once; he knows his friends like the back of his hand, can recount their life like he can count the number of moles on his face-- but you, and everyone else, know absolutely nothing about him. 

At least, close to nothing-- you know he likes ice cream and hanging out and going to the pub; you know he likes biking and doing drugs and women; you know he hates the sea and his brother and his father, but you don’t know him. All you’ve ever seen him do is smile or laugh or shout in mock anger; there is a carefully glued mask on his face he takes meticulous caution in preserving-- he is terrified to let go, despite the blasé persona he lets on.

Or maybe the mysterious matter of your bestfriend is tripping you up for no reason; maybe you’re psychoanalyzing something that doesn’t need to be psychoanalyzed, reading between lines that don’t exist. But if you were asked to answer honestly, there’s just something about Jonathan you don’t get. There is a split seam in the tapestry of his life, missing pieces in the story he pretends to tell with utmost accuracy. There are things that he never talks about, that he recoils when asked like you’ve poked a tender wound. 

“So, what were you doing before… all this?” You ask him once, laying on his messy bed in his dorm-room and scanning the water-damage constellations dotted along his popcorn ceiling. By all this you mean going to university, being the resident party boy, aimlessly pursuing a degree you’re 99% sure he picked blindfolded (culinary science) and standing here, with you, snorting a line of something on his creaky wooden desk. 

Jonathan freezes, still hunched over. “What d’you-- what d’you mean?” he says, tone breezy but, uncharacteristically tense… jilted and preoccupied. You could’ve brushed it off as him being seriously focussed on his drugs, but the way he shifts, how his shoulders curl in like he wants to disappear, tells you otherwise. 

“I mean, before going to school here… y’know, what were you like as a dumb teenager?”

You two’re twenty, barely not-teenagers, but it still makes a world of a difference: you’re living away from home, doing what you want, experiencing (a juvenile, naive version of) freedom and adulthood.

“I dunno… kind of a tool, that's f’sure,” he chuckled, rubbing his nose roughly. He’s being funny on purpose, a jester’s distraction: he doesn’t want you to realize his answers’ not really one at all. 

You shifted on his bed, now leaning against his headboard. His answer strikes you as odd and uncharacteristic despite his attempts to evade suspicion: usually, Jonathan pounces at the chance to yap on and on. “What, the great Jonathan Breech doesn’t have any wild stories to tell? No bones broken, girls dumped, houses trashed?” 

He snorted at that, like some inside joke you weren’t privy to was brought up in your words, and he descended back down on a carefully partitioned line of white. “I broke my baby finger once,” he relented vaguely when he finished, dusting off the table and licking the remains off his hand. “I cried and I cried and I cried.”

“Did it hurt that much?” you grinned, mind trailing off to imagine a baby-faced Jonathan Breech, a juvenile highschool boy, doing something silly to break that finger. Maybe he accidentally flung off his bike, broke it because of a dare, or maybe it happened just by slipping and falling. 

“It - uh… didn’t hurt enough,” Jonathan smiled, tight-lipped and paltry. All at once the air in the room had changed, like someone attached a vacuum to the window and sucked everything out. 

Your grin fell, and you watched him carefully: perhaps, had you not been as close to him as you were, he’d have let something show. A twitch in the smile, a break in the facade. But you were, and his face stayed the same, and your thoughts ran circles around themselves. This was… something else, something belonging to the part of his life he didn’t talk about. 

The atmosphere had grown tense, taut, a rubber band twisted ‘round and round, threatening to burst, so you leave the matter of his injury alone; of his life alone. You go back to staring at his ceiling, he goes back to his drugs; Jonathan collapses within himself, and you don’t notice how badly he suffocates… how suffering in silence is also accompanied by the overwhelming desire to be found.

ii.

Sometimes, despite his self-imposed distance, Jonathan lets someone look inside his head. 

You are both the sometimes and the someone; you don’t know why it’s always you, but you chalk it up to the fact that beneath his unpredictable demeanor, the murky and unreadable feelings he holds for others, is this uncharacteristic constant: he holds a softness for you. It’s what lets you know there’s something haunted lurking beneath his happy-go-lucky surface. 

You don’t know where this softness comes from, either. But you know you see it, in lingering touches, tender duchenne smiles unlike the devilish tilt his lips usually hold, how he clasps his hand around yours after a night at the pub and walks you home because he knows you get paranoid. You see it in how he comes over to your apartment when you don’t answer anyone's calls during exam season, how he remembers what your mother’s name is and what your childhood pet was and what your favorite flowers are. How his lips brush past your cheek when he pulls away from hugs, his hands shuddering around your shoulders, like he’s afraid he’ll crush you.

You only wish you could do the same. You want to sit by his side and mend his heart, lend an ear to his most mundane fears, you want to take his hand into your own and kiss it softly, return all that he has done for you, take the same as you have given to him: what is friendship if it is not equal, what is love if it is not returned? It is something broken, unable; split halves of one heart, an imbalance in the scale, Bonnie without her Clyde, a fish out of water. 

Jonathan pours his heart into your own, filling holes you know you don’t have, and you think he may be overcompensating for something else, seeing things in you that really belong to him. It is maddening, and you just want to beg and plead he lets you in. 

But you settle for the gentle pokes, the prodding, and try to decipher the vague answers he gives you. Most days, you can’t really make sense of it. 

“Sorry,” you apologize, about to leave the outing you planned with Jonathan — studying, or, trying to study, at an intimate coffeebar the two of you frequented — “my dad’s gotten drunk with his lads and my mum needs help dragging him home.”

 “Hey, hey, don’t worry. I get it: my dad used to do that all the time,” he waves your words off casually, but you don’t miss how jilted he says used to and the pain in his tone at all the time.

“Oh, surely she was fit to go to the madhouse?” you laughed once, responding to Jonathan’s complaints about an eccentric classmate in his agricultural studies. He laughs back, he always does, but this one is hollow, forced; barely stopping a grimace from coloring his tone. 

You notice these things like it’s a shadow following someone in the sun. He is lying, hiding; about something you don’t know but it is happening. It is happening, and you are so very curious: you pick up on the littlest tendrils of him, fed wholly on any information you can squeeze out. He is a mystery you want to delve within completely; answer that question of WHO ARE YOU REALLY? and leave no room for error. 

You’d give yourself to him the very same if he merely asked; you’d whisper childhood fears and tell the origin stories of faded scars on your knees and why you check under your bed before sleeping. You’d detail your entire life from sunset birth to starry night end if he even made a passing comment about knowing; you would trust your love, your heart, your entire life in his beautiful, shaky hands. This is the relationship you have built around yourselves, and it is beginning to feel terribly one-sided. 

Alas, your curiosity overwhelms him, and you take it too far, just once. Only once. 

“Where’d this come from?” you murmur, brushing your fingers over a scar above his eyebrow. It’s something you see only now, his hair mussed and wild from the various blankets and pillows on your dinky couch. 

He’s crashing at your apartment tonight, an invited event, because you often miss him like you miss home; the boy is sneaky— he slinks away like a street cat and only comes back for food. It’s only fair he lets you wrangle him back like this, making him stay by your side at least once a week.  

Your words make him freeze, like he often does; it reminds you of hikers, who freeze when they see mountain lions— he thinks if he stops and stares and pretends to disappear you’ll look the other way, drop the question, forget him completely.

But you don’t. You don’t know what’s affecting him -- not that he wants you to -- so you just stare back into his cornflower blue eyes. You stop and stare and see right through him; you hold the question like a knife to his neck, and commit him to memory. 

“The scar?” Jonathan pales, shuddering despite it having long since been healed over. The aftershocks of an earthquake. 

You simply nod, fingers pulling away. You’re still closer than ever though, the two of you being the only things in your cramped concrete apartment, the chosen movie on your telly still running and long forgotten. 

Your attention remains on him, brandished into something dangerous, like you’ll carve the answer out of him if you have to— but the moment passes. He doesn’t say anything and you accept that as the answer. Gone is your razor-sharp focus, and there is nothing more to the matter. 

But Jonathan doesn’t register this, no, he’s thinking, gears in his head turning and creaking. His tongue grazes against the backs of his teeth, jaw chattering like it was as cold as it was when… as cold as it was back then, and he doesn’t want to tell anyone— but it’s you. You’re not just anyone. 

You’re the one he holds a certain softness for. The one he equally bares his heart to and holds the most secrets from. The one he’s most terrified to know. The only one he wants to know. 

So, he decides to tell a partial truth— something digestible. People adore that which can easily slide down the gullet: news headlines don’t detail the goriness of a murder, they give the “insider” scoop of the scared neighbor. To be able to digest information is what makes the world go round, and he does not think you could digest the full truth-- he does not think he wants you to. 

He feels ill at the thought of anything between you changing— oh, how ruined he’d feel if you began treating him like fucking glass.

This abhorrent social pressure is what makes Jonathan grit this sentence through his teeth: “I got into a car accident,” he gulps dry, “when I was nineteen. Was drunk… went fer a spin. I skidded off a -- um, an empty highway. The tall sorts; high up, y’know. Fell.”

His voice makes you look back up at him, and your eyes are beautiful and tense— it breaks his heart. He knows you’re probably thinking it was in-character, how expected that is of Jonathan Breech, how you’ll easily take this partial truth, how you’ll never know the full one until it comes in a letter under your door and he’s long gone. 

“Tell me,” you ask him, lips falling into a near-frown instead of laughing or grinning wider. It’s hushed, whispered like a secret, “What did it feel like? Falling, I mean.”

Jonathan licks his lips, bores his shaking gaze into your own, and tells you not everything feels like something else. That the word connotes all you need to know. Falling meant he was falling; his arms raised and the air took him and that was it. 

It makes your brows twist and your lips press into a thin line: his nonchalance is worrying, no more his signature characteristic— there is something wrong about this apathy toward injury, toward the potential death. 

“Is that how you broke your finger?” You murmur, and it startles him. How you pieced the two things together, how you weaved a web from what little you knew about him; how futile his attempts to hide could be.

“What?” he responds, hoarse. There is a lurking shadow in his bones telling him he’ll taint you, telling him to be ashamed, telling him how badly you will never be his. It is such a damning reality, that no matter how much he may yearn for you, he is too incomplete to meet your needs; he is too hurt not to hurt you too. 

“The car accident. Is that how you broke your pinkie?” you repeat, and you gripped his hand resting at your side, bringing it up to present the finger to him like he forgot where his pinkie was. 

Jonathan’s gaze darts from you to the finger, and he feels his insides quiver; so badly does he want to spill his entire soul to you. But that internal reminder -- hurt people hurt people hurt people -- makes him settle for nodding, parted lips locking closed. 

Nothing special happens that night, no shocking revelation or bombarded confession; Jonathan nods, keeps his lips sealed, and gets up from the couch, figure dreary and fatigued. He murmurs an incomplete excuse, something half-baked and blatantly unconvincing that he has to leave, and you let him go. You think you’re imagining the shudder in his shoulders, the shake in his voice as he says goodbye, and you let him go. 

It’s there, like that club so long ago, you discover another thing about Jonathan Breech: push too far and he shuts down, closes shop and puts up his guard forever. It’s the mere fact of how attentive you are to his words; you remember how he broke his finger, and he realizes he cannot hide from you any longer. 

You’re reaching a point in your friendship -- your relationship, no matter platonic or romantic for all lines have been crossed; nobody is so raw to one another with love not involved -- where you’ll bare your hearts on your sleeves, share your every thought and dream and fear. But Jonathan won’t be able to reciprocate, and the very thought of rejecting you, betraying you, makes his stomach twist in knots. That crestfallen face of yours would haunt him for all time, your every melancholy feature burning into his memory like the scars left by cigarettes on skin.

So he leaves, hurt people hurt people hurt people echoes in his ears all the way home; he turns into an alleyway shortcut and prays death swoops down and takes him right there. He leaves his consciousness curled lovingly in your arms; his shell walks home and prays you’re none the wiser. But you’ve already reached that point in your relationship; you already know. 

When people die, or friendships do, sometimes they end with just a goodbye, a mild, casual goodbye because you think there’ll be dozens, hundreds more-- but there won’t be. Suddenly, alone in that cramped apartment, the buzzing from the tv filling your ears, your couch still warm from someone long gone, you know.

You know you startled him, that he’s left your apartment and he’ll never come back. Your heart cools, and she whispers that you took it too far, that you crossed a line you were never made aware of, that when you see him in class tomorrow he might not sit next to you, he might not talk to you, that you might lose him forever because he is too stubborn to open up and you are too stubborn to let him go. 

Well, you were too stubborn to let him go. 

It’s three weeks before you speak to Jonathan again. Three long, dragging weeks, moments in time where he avoided your gaze, evaded your presence, slipped past you before you got too close. You certainly try, of course— you seek him out every chance you get, trying to get an I’m sorry, please talk to me out before he runs off, but it’s virtually impossible.

Once, after class, you’d caught him in the middle of a flurry of exiting students by the velvet blazer, your hands curled around the lapel. “Jonathan,” you panted, trying to drag him off to the side to escape the bustling activity around you, “please, we need to talk--“

But then Jonathan had faced you, eyes widened and spooked like he’d seen a ghost, a never-before-seen-by-you fear covering his gracefully cut features, before he tugged off the black blazer and escaped into the crowd. He had seen you, widened his eyes, left. Such a simple action tore your heart in two; it had confirmed your suspicions— you’d gone too far, he was never coming back, and you were all alone. There you stood, fingers wrapped around one of his favorite articles of clothing starkly without its beloved owner, completely alone. 

In three measly weeks, he has put up a biting winter of distance between you two. 

Your feelings are unable to comprehend themselves— they fight and sob and run circles around your mind, they make you doubt, crumble, devour yourself from the inside out; they make you ask yourself what you can do to salvage this, what can you do to fix this? What is there to make of him, of his behavior; what do you do with yourself and this guilt?

If you could imagine time was a construct, you were certain you could convince yourself this stretch of time was nothing… propel yourself into a present where Jonathan does not afflict your mind, take over your every thought— does not ruin you like so. If only you could do that, you could close your eyes and reopen them when you’ve let go. But you were always too stubborn to let him go, weren’t you?

It’s three weeks to the day before you speak to Jonathan again, and it happens through the crack of his dorm door, your arm wedged through it because you know he is not cruel; he will let you in without a doubt.  

“Please,” you plead to Jonathan, “just— I just want to talk. Please?”

He stares at you straight, expression cold and reserved, before he breaks and pulls away; bites his lip, lets you in his room, doesn’t look you in the eye. Looking around, you sense something in his dorm has changed; it had gained a bereft quality, like it was attuned to Jonathan’s state of mind and felt depressed beyond your comprehension. There was a cold air to the place, an utmost frigid demeanor to a room incredibly warm just weeks prior. In your absence, the dorm had been neglected, gutted, abandoned. 

“I’m sorry,” are the first words that tumble out of your mouth. “I- I know you don’t like… talking about -- about your life before here, and I’m sorry. But please, Jonathan, just talk to me. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you.”

He sits down on the edge of his weak bedframe, pulling his knees up and pressing his face into them. “You don’t need to-- don’t… don’t apologize. You don’t need t’make it better, either. All’s grand.” he promises, words muffled and shaky. It’s a weeping kind of tone; you could just as easily imagine him sobbing with that voice. 

Your brows knit. Your emotions are wavering, treading brutally between disbelief, despair and rancor. “Then -- then why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you avoid me? Why did you - why did we spend these last three weeks playing cat and mouse, if you weren’t mad at me? Is this your sick idea of a joke?”

“No! I-- jesus christ,” Jonathan looked up from his hands before immediately pressing two fingers between his eyes, “I wasn’t … avoiding you.”

“I haven’t seen you in weeks!” you point out painfully, exasperated. “You know, you’ve been avoiding me for longer than this. You— you push me away any chance you get. You’re afraid. I don’t know of what, but you’re- so fucking secretive, and it’s tearing me apart.”

“I’m not - afraid of anything. I’m just a private person— you know this. Would you, if I ‘pushed you away?!’” 

At his denying deflection, something within you snaps: “Why won’t you - fucking let me in? I’ve — I’ve bared my soul to you; you know me from the inside out. I trust you with my life— why, why can’t you do the same?”

“I didn’t ask you to do that! And I didn’t — I didn’t mean t’get so close to you, okay?!” He bursts, and you flinch. His hands shakily come up to his face once more; he wipes roughly but it’s no use— you’ve already seen his delicate tears threatening to spill, and it burns more holes in your heart than you thought his suffering would.

“What are you talking about?” you pry, now without any cautious reservations about his demeanor.

“I didn’t mean to get so fucking attached, because - ‘cause I…” Jonathan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, “fuck.”

“What?” you repeat, but it’s softer, concerned; how quickly his body language shifted from irritated to terrified has you scrambling to support him. “Talk to me,” you ask, taking nervous steps closer, like you were approaching a wounded animal.

He sucks in a sharp breath, and holds it, like he did cigarette smoke, before exhaling heavily. “Okay- okay. When I was - nineteen, I drove a car… I drove off a cliff and tried t’kill myself. I was-- admitted to a psychiatric hospital for a year, and when I got out I moved here f’school. I- I… promised m’self I wouldn’t let anyone get too close.”

The confession hangs in the air, a lonely little thing; it’s a bleeding piece of his own heart he’s plucked and placed in your palms. He shudders, and you want to nurture it like nothing else. This is a culmination of a year’s worth of evasion coming to a close; you’re seeing him completely, rawly, for the first time.

“But- but why? You don’t have to— Jonathan, you don’t need to do that just because you - you… y’know.”

“I’m- I know that,” he starts brashly, defensively. “It’s b’cause I am very, very aware of my - of m’own self destructiveness…” His words taper off into something of grief; the Sisyphean struggle of wanting to live, while that depressive boulder pushes him back, colors him completely. “I just… I didn’t want to - t’hurt anyone in case I -- in case next time I succeeded.”

“Next time?” you repeat, and your voice broke in a way you wish was less vulnerable, less blatantly miserable.

“This is why I didn’t want to—“ Jonathan sighs, deflates, “I’m not telling you this because I want you to - t’fucking save me, okay? I’m telling you this because you wanted to know, and I couldn’t hide from you anymore. Because you asked.”

“You didn’t need t’hide it in the first place!” you exclaimed, coming closer to him. “You’ve never had to hide a fucking ‘ting from me.”

“You wouldn’t have understood!” He said back, volume nearing a shout. “You’ll treat me differently now, you see, you’ll look at me fuckin’ different—“

It made your heart sink-- how sure his words were, how certain he was of your rejection. How little trust did he have in you? 

(You remember he wanted to sink, too-- lose himself in the baby blue sea; let it swallow him whole and never be seen again.)

“You - you really think I’ll treat y’differently because of this? You know my every crevice, my every thought-- I have never once doubted that you’ll accept me.”

“I-I… why should I - expect any of this to stay the same?”

Suddenly, you took his face into your hands. “Because I-- I fucking love you, okay? And it’s not just friendly, or romantic, even if it’s both— I’m… I love you like nothing I’ve ever loved before. I accept and adore your every skill and flaw and antic; you wormed your way into my heart and I want to worm my way into yours.”

“That doesn’t mean—“ Jonathan tried to interject, a noise all utter disbelief. You cut him off, though, continuing your sudden confession; you hadn’t been privy to these own romantic feelings of yours till moments prior, but everything being said just felt right. 

“Jonathan, I don’t care if you drove a car off a cliff or cyanide-poisoned our professor or blew something up, because I love you. You, with all your problems and great, big, beautiful life. All I want is for you to want that life; I want you to want me in it. I feel it in my bones that I’m meant to love you; you are meant to be my home, you are everything I am supposed to know. It won’t fix you or fix anything at all but I just need you to know-- I need you to know the why to my every action. It’s because I love you.”

He looked up at you, wide-eyed, head resting in your gentle hold. “I - don’t know what to say… are you - for real?”

“As real as can be,” you smiled back at him, tracing circles along his smooth skin; you could’ve drank in that attentive stare of his for hours upon hours. “I love you, and nothing and no-one, not even you, can change that.” An aching grip had clenched around your heart at his words, that blatant disbelief: are you for real? God, had you ever been-- had you ever fucking been. 

Jonathan’s mouth opened to speak, but instead, he let out an agonizing sort of cry; an exclamation of utter surprise at the loving acceptance. Then, he hesitantly leaned into your touch, as if he’d never hugged before, wrapping his arms around your waist to snatch you as close to him as possible. He held you tighter and tighter as the seconds went by, like this was all a mocking dream his yearning mind had made up; that if he closed his eyes now he’d wake up desolate, alone, without you for eternity. His worst nightmare. 

“…God, I’m so - fucking stupid,” he grumbled, sounding angry, but you could feel vulnerable, hot tears soaking into the fabric of your shirt. “To assume you, of all people, would act that way… you of all people.” He said that tenderly; you of all people certainly meant miles more things you weren’t explicitly aware of, but you still felt the sentiment. “I’m not -- poetic or anything like that… but I love you, too.”

You chuckled a beautiful, wet laugh. “You don’t hafta’ say anything sweet or special. You’re everything to me.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, before wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pulling you onto the mattress with him. He flipped you beneath him, and held himself up by the forearms laying on either side of your head. “Fuck, I love you. I love you.” Jonathan repeated the words several more times, strange and foreign but right at home being said to you. Like his mouth was made to only ever say I love you to you. 

Suddenly, you pressed your lips to his, shutting him up momentarily. You could still feel the vibrations of I love you rumbling in his throat as you kissed him. Your tongues danced along one another, an all consuming waltz; you wanted to know everything about him, down to the taste of his tongue, memorize how sweet his mouth felt on yours. Oh, how you longed for this moment; how could you ever think about love again, and yearn for it, without thinking of Jonathan?

You reckoned that’s what this had been the whole time; your love started as a little flame, something under the guise of friendship, but the two of you had fanned it, nurtured it-- all of a sudden the miniature warmth of platonic love burst into a raging, adoring fire. You’d fed this flame with tenderness, and it responded in kind; you could never again look at Jonathan without a certain intimate reverie. Perhaps that’d been why Jonathan found it so hard to cut off this relationship as he had dozens others: something primal and unconscious within him had begged him not to let you go— some higher being knew his home was only ever in your arms. 

Jonathan deepened the kiss hungrily, pressing his weight onto you and pushing you into the mattress. Your head was spinning from the lack of air, and one of your hands had to sneak beneath his hat and tug at his hair to get him to stop. “Hey,” you panted, looking worriedly into his eyes, “what’s up?”

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, hanging his head lowly for a moment before meeting your gaze once more, batting his long lashes. “Jus’ missed you. Thas’ all.”

“Missed y’too,” you murmured, pulling him back down to kiss you again. Your hands left the crown of his head and trailed down his backside, tracing over the curves and bumps of his frumpy yellow v-neck sweater. 

That touch of yours seemed to spur him on even more, and his kisses began to travel; along your jaw, to your pulse, down the long ravine of your neck, tongue darting out to lick the hollow of your collarbone, making you squeal. He chuckled against your skin, a genuine amusement rather than the mocking one you two so frequently practiced, and it all went downhill from there. His hands skillfully tugged off your tank top, knee between your clenched thighs, more teasing kisses being planted along your now bare -- save for your bra -- chest.

You didn’t mean to come over, profess your love and suddenly jump into a steamy, yearning makeout session (which, you were pretty sure was venturing off into sex…) but you supposed that apologizing— arguing, whatever —meant your relationship went back on track to wherever it was heading… which may have been set to end with an ardor romance anyway. This love of yours would’ve bursted at the seams of friendship; it could not be confined by such mere things as labels. 

“Fuck,” you groaned, arching into his teasing kisses along the peaks of your breasts, his hands ghosting around your clothed chest but never touching. “Please, Jon.”

You could feel his cheeky grin on your skin, “Tell me what you want, love.”

“…Take this off,” you demanded gently, referring to Jonathan’s sweater.

“Your wish is my command.” he snickered, obliging and removing the yellow knit-- as well as his white undershirt and pajama bottoms. He was left in a pair of boxer-shorts and that silly, silly winter-trapper hat, his fingers sneaking up to your supple thighs and tickling the edges of your jean-shorts; a silent plea. 

“Eager,” you mumbled, noticing his over-compliance in completely stripping, smiling and guiding his hands to the waistband of your shorts to tug the tight article off. 

When he did so, you shivered, both at the feeling of being only in your underwear, as well as Jonathan’s sharp, attentive gaze. “You’re so beautiful,” he panted, eyes exploring your every sweet feature. 

He was enamored with your bare body, not in a sexual way despite the blatantly sexual situation, but rather in a worshiping, religiously devoted way. It may’ve been blasphemous to think so, but Jonathan’s sudden chaste kisses along the curve of waist only seemed to prove you right; his mouth on you was gentle, like he’d held you before, except now without any guilt or hesitation. It was a holy way of loving you; something all-consuming, becoming the epicenter of a life, becoming the purpose, motivation, and belief all at once. 

That familiar broiling in your gut occurred as he made his way closer to the pulsing, lace-covered place between your legs; your hands were gripping the sheets tightly in pure anticipation, his hot breath on your sensitive skin. “Don’t be such a tease,” you pouted, legs fumbling for purchase along his body, trying to pull him closer to you.

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” he hummed, but his fingers still curled into the band of your baby-blue panties and dragged them down in one desperate go, “but I do wanna taste you….”

Jonathan’s veiny hands pried your quivering thighs apart, murmuring an offhand already stole y’panties, don’t get all shy on me now when you whimpered flusteredly, before he descended on your dripping lips, licking a flat-tongued stripe up to your clit. 

You gasped at the sudden action, but it quickly morphed into a choked moan when he pressed himself further and parted your lips, nose to your pelvic bone; he made quick work of you, artfully curling his long tongue into your hole and slurping your slick. 

“So sweet,” he praised, the vibrations of his voice making your thighs clench around his head. He hummed in amusement at your reaction, lapping you up quicker; he kitten-licked and slobbered, feeding on your sticky cunt, tongue darting in every direction, feeling your walls and prying deeper into your hot hole, which ached for the cock straining against the mattress now. The bottom half of Jonathan’s face was now positively soaked, glistening with his own drool and your needy wetness, all of it mixing dirtily and sliding down the length of his neck. 

“Jon!” you mewled, hands tearing off his trapper hat and flinging it elsewhere before curling your hands into his mousy brown hair and pushing his face deeper into your pussy, desperate to come. You were riding his face now — or, attempting to, more accurately bucking up into him — adoring his unceasing ministrations. He was basically fucking you with his tongue, overstimulating your clit with teasing licks then pulling away, feeling along the ridges of your walls.

“Pick m’hat up later, love,” he tutted, pulling away slightly to see where you’d haphazardly thrown it, and your desperate whine neared a sob. He breathed in sharply, taking in how quickly he’d undone you: in a matter of minutes, your expression had grown wanton, eyes blown out, drooling, hair askew, bra riding up your tits and revealing your sweet, puffy nipples. 

Jonathan quickly forgot about the state of his beloved hat, and went back down on you, mouth devouring in full force once again. You rolled your hips forward, and when he pulled his tongue out of your wet hole to suckle softly on your fleshy nub, your eyes rolled back into your head and your legs shook around his face, toes curling tightly. A choked moan left you alongside the sudden climax, sounding a hundred percent pornographic and all for him. 

You panted, silent and unmoving for a moment, and Jonathan began moving to get up and let you take a breather before continuing, absolutely terrified to push you too far or do anything you didn’t want to do— he was the spontaneous one, and you were the responsible one, but that didn’t mean he ever wanted to force anything upon you. His simultaneous decisions were made mostly in part with your interests in mind; he made the decisions you were too nervous and over-thinking to choose quicker. 

However, you took a long breath, then trailed your hand over the painfully noticeable bulge within his soft boxers. “Wan’… make you feel good,” you murmured, flattening your hand against his erection. 

Jonathan inhaled sharply, pitifully affected by the minor touch but holding back with an incredible amount of self restraint. “I can wait,” he offered sweetly, one of his hands coming up to your flattened hand’s forearm to rub the skin. 

You shook your head foggily, cupping him through the fabric, slowly adding friction by sliding your hand up and down. 

“S-shit,” he bit his lip, “you want this now, baby?”

You nodded vehemently with a whimper, and to make more of a point, you reached behind and unclasped your bra, tossing it elsewhere on his dirty dorm floor, before beginning to slip off his underwear. 

The hand on your arm stopped you, though, in favor of doing it himself and pressing his weight further onto you, your chests flush with one another. You were only able to take in thin breaths, making your head spin, but it also amplified the  arousal blooming in your cunt when Jonathan slotted himself at your soaking entrance, collecting his saliva and your slick on his tip. 

Before he pushed in, however, his head dipped into the hollow of your neck, plush lips brushing past the shell of your ear. “Is this okay?” he murmured, pressing a wet kiss to your temple. 

“Please,” you whined, hands pushing flat on his back to bring him closer to you.

With that, Jonathan slowly buried his length within your cunt, making your breath hitch. “I love you,” he groaned, entering you inch by inch, relishing how your warmth swallowed him whole. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

Your hole was stuffed beyond belief, but Jonathan was gentle with you, caressing your waist with the rough pads of his fingers and massaging you, trying to ease his entrance into something painless. Obviously, with that length and thickness it couldn’t be painless at all, but his attempts helped your mind drift off elsewhere and take some of the attention off the stinging stretch. 

After a long moment of ragged breathing, Jonathan cooing words of praise into your neck as he kissed you without moving, you dug your fingers into the skin of his back: “More,” you choked out, the fullness in your cunt now feeling delicious rather than cringeworthy. 

He smirked against your skin, “Looks like you’re t’eager one now.”

“Oh, get on with it,” you rasped and he let out a low chuckle, sliding out of your hole before thrusting back in. That first movement already made your hips jerk up into him, back arching. It was like all the warmth in your body had collected in your cunt, leaving you freezing from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, but still with a needy, burning fire in your insides. 

Jonathan’s pace was affectionate and rhythmic: you could feel the tenderness in his each and every gentle roll of the hips. It made you feel like the sun, how attentive he was, but he was also so fucking slow. If anything, that had your walls clenching onto him harder than if he hammered into you— that slow build-up of friction was dizzying. You squirmed, cunt clenching and contracting around his smooth thrusts— you wanted to take him within you completely, cause more friction for you were going stir-crazy with this lazy speed. 

“F-fuck! Faster, please,” you cried out, unable to take his sensual movements any longer. Your legs were twitching with his patient movements, and you could’ve sworn you saw a cheeky grin on his lips. The bastard— even in sex was he teasing you, wanting to torture you until you gave in to the pleasure and begged him to ruin you.  

Sure, this was your first time together, and was going extremely pleasantly and sweetly, but you were actually pretty fond of the idea of letting him pound into you like there was no tomorrow… 

At the lewd thought, your walls pulsed around his cock, making him buck up unintentionally, hitting that sweet spot within you. He grunted at the feeling of your tightened cunt, while you cried out his name, pleasure running like a current through your body. Your face was on fire, reminiscent of a raging fever, and your insides were coiling— god, how did his cock just feel so perfect within you?

“Oh,” he grinned in a pant, “found y’spot, didn’t I?”

Jonathan didn’t give you a chance to speak before he pulled out so far his tip was the only thing in your hole, before slamming back in and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Props to him-- he hit your g-spot with utmost accuracy, and you let out a long, stuttered mewl, scratching at his freckled back, legs twitching. Your wail was almost catatonic, loud and cock-drunk, dripping unabashed, filthy pleasure. 

“Makin’ such sweet noises f’me,” he praised huskily, hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead, “fuck, ‘ve gotta hear that again.”

He must’ve noticed your neediness earlier, when he was slow and languid, for the new speed he set was double- no, triple that: his hips were snapping against yours, balls smacking filthily against your lips, left hand pinning your hips down and letting him sink into you faster. Shocks of pleasure tore through you at the sudden increase in speed- he’d inured you so well to the torturously slow pace from earlier that this new frenzied one felt like getting hit by a bullet train. You were overstimulated and needing more of him all at once, practically vibrating with need under his touch. 

“I’ve- hnngh- wanted this…” you gasped between moans, “f-for so long…”

“Wanted m’cock?” Jonathan questioned in a hiss, feeling with his every inch how your walls absolutely soaked him. His tone was, obviously, sarcastic, but it still made you feel incredibly lewd. 

You shook your head numbly, “Wanted you… I love you, Jon!”

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he purred, fucking you faster and making you writhe beneath him, “love you s’much.”

Jonathan targeted the spongy, swollen spot deep within your cunt, suddenly filled with a renewed vigor and motivation to make you come as quickly as possible, and he pounded into that one, specific spot, watching how you twitched and squirmed, heavy moans exiting you. He was relentless, hands reaching to hook under your knees and spread you wider. 

At the new angle, his cock penetrated you even deeper, fuller, which you thought wasn’t possible with how goddamn full you already felt, but when his thick cockhead brushed up against your cervix you thought you were going to burst. Then, one of his hands came up to your tits to knead the flesh, and you squeaked when he tweaked your soft nipples. He was pawing at your sweet tits, fondling you in a needy, boyish way, like yours were the first pair of boobs he’d ever felt. 

“M’close!” you gasped, mind going fuzzy with pure ecstacy. Your skin prickled with goosebumps, cold  sweat running down your spine, a terribly stark in contrast feeling to the warmth buzzing under your skin. 

“C-can’t last much longer either,” he choked, still pumping in and out of your sticky hole and savoring the feeling of your tight warmness on his long length. He looked absolutely exquisite above you, and you lost yourself in the ethereal picture. Maybe you were in love, or maybe he really was just an empyrean beauty; you took in the sight of his focussed iceberg blue eyes, the cute flush spreading along his pale cheeks and bare chest, how he bit his pink lips to muffle his needy grunts and moans. 

Then, you mewled and convulsed around him, your walls spasming and contracting as you came undone, reaching the precipice of your pleasure. That made him fall off the edge— you had tensed all over- all over, and Jonathan couldn’t help how his hips stuttered, knees buckled, cock twitched; he only gave one last, powerful thrust into you before spilling himself inside of you. He painted your soft walls white, and you felt that familiar heat spreading within you; you welcomed it completely, and wanted such warmth to be there forever. 

You milked him for every last drop, cunt like a vice grip, and Jonathan gave you another wet kiss, this time on your lips, and your hands wrapped around his neck, allowing you to kiss him back. Your brows knitted at the sour taste of yourself on his lips, but it just made everything feel so real— Jonathan and you had “made love”. It was a phrase you always wrinkled your nose at, feeling uncomfortable and juvenile at the intimacy it entailed, but now you understood it completely. 

“I love you,” you repeated for what felt like the hundredth time, unable to say anything else that conveyed what you felt for him. 

Honestly, you weren’t sure anything could accurately do so— you felt infinitely about him, your love touching all edges of your mind, heart and soul, filling you completely. You supposed you felt about Jonathan how the sun felt about the moon— without one, there could not be the other. 

“I love you-- too,” he responded, pausing in the middle at the aftershocks of your orgasm, which had caused you to tighten around his softening, sensitive cock for a second. 

You peered deep into his baby-blue eyes, watching the utter love that coloured them; it was like submerging yourself in a great blue ocean, except you didn’t want to come out, because you knew you wouldn’t drown in those eyes. No, you knew Jonathan would always be there to pull you out. 

Speaking of pulling out… Jonathan slipped himself out of you softly, careful not to agitate that first stretch any more than necessary, before collapsing back into your arms. The two of you tangled yourselves in a messy flurry of limbs on his cushy mattress, sweaty and breathy, something that should’ve been terribly uncomfortable but just wasn’t— you swore you could fall asleep anywhere, no matter your own state or the circumstance, as long as you were with him. 

Blearily, both your eyes began to droop, until you gave into the familiar presence of deep, dark sleep. It was a dreamless sleep for you, but you had an ever present comfort at his weight on yours, something you could feel even in unconsciousness. 

Hours later, in a brisk, shuddering early-morning that you felt all over due to Jonathan’s unruly habit of opening his window at the peak of the day’s hottest weather and forgetting to close it before cold nightfall fell, you awoke to Jonathan watching you carefully, so close you could feel his warm exhales of breath on your cheek. 

There was no goodmorning or anything like that, just pure, uninhibited being, reveling in the space you two occupied together. Like you two were the only things left in the world. 

When Jonathan noticed you woke up, he shifted, presumably to extract himself from your grip. You stopped him, though, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and bringing him closer to you.

“What did it feel like?” you asked instead, for the last time. You brushed your fingers over his scar, and, knowing exactly what you were asking, this time Jonathan doesn’t flinch away. This time, he leans into your touch: it doesn’t burn, not anymore, and he wants your tenderness to swallow him whole. 

You didn’t mean what it actually felt like, of course. You meant, what were you thinking? What have you done, and what will you do to yourself? You meant, I love you.

“It felt like,” falling; not everything feels like something else; I raised my arms and the air took me and that was it-- “it felt like… giving in. Letting my desperation find its purpose. It felt like I’d reached a point of peace… gained clarity after a long stretching, wounded moment came to an end. It felt like becoming something only meant to be talked about in past tense.”

You don’t say anything to that; you know he doesn’t want you to. There’s no need for you to hush or plead or make better, you just need to listen, and love him. He knows you accept him for everything he is, all his flaws and his strengths; he knows your love is all accepting- it veers on saintly. 

At your silence, he melts into your arms and you can finally relax; there is an admission in the action, a release, an acknowledgement -- is suffering in silence not also accompanied by the overwhelming desire to be found? -- you have found him, at last, and you will never, ever let go.

You take it too far, just once. Only once. And you let him go just once, only once; never again. 

[asmallpinkfan3]

Sick and tired.- Allan x reader

First time writing for smiling friends so I do hope I get him as accurate as possible. (I love Allan)

Gender neutral reader btw.

Warnings: cursing,throwing up, established relationship,small itty bitty mention of weed Allan might be OOC

Walking through the store you and your boyfriend Allan had been sent on a job to get mr.boss some pens for his office. Your eyes are squinted from the bright light hitting your already pounding head making it even worse.

“I don’t know why he couldn’t get it himself”. Allan’s voice reached your ears as it seemed to make you even more overstimulated then wanted. “Yea, I really don’t know either.” You respond tiredly hoping he wouldn’t catch on to the fact of you obviously not feeling well. Grabbing the box of pens you walk beside the critter to the check out only for a worker to accidentally bump into Allan.

“Watch where you-oh.” The workers voice changes from defensive to distaste upon seeing Allan, it’s a somewhat blue critter with 6 arms. “God damnit what do you want?” He asks Allan watching the red critter cross his arms and glare at him. “I’m just going to the register”. He answers whilst fixing his blue neck tie and rolling his eyes. Looking down away from the two critters you feel nauseous wanting to just go home and go to sleep. “Allan can we just go?” Your voice snaps Allan out of his snarky comments with Armzo. Nodding he silently walks with you to the register.

Now that the precious pens have been purchased you and Allan walk to the parking lot to the company’s car. “Your pale, are you feeling ok?” Allan’s voice asks as you lean against the car taking a breath as the heat of the warm day beats on you making your stomach turn. “Yea Allan I’m o-“ you can’t even finish your sentence before you hunch over and puke on the parking lot pavement.

Allan quickly pulls your hair (if you have any) back while you puke a concerned look on his face. When you’re done he gets in the car and turns on the AC to cool you off as he feels the car move when you plop down and take a deep breath. “L-let’s just get these back to mr. Boss and go home.” You say cutting the silence while you closing your eyes.

After getting the pens to mr. Boss you are currently at Allan’s apartment on his couch with a blanket over you as Allan talks to the landlord the landlord asking if he wants to smoke weed and drink diet soda while playing burn out revenge on the PlayStation 2. Declining Allan shuts the door and walks over to you as he moves your legs over his lap. Usually he’s not the type for too much physical contact but since it’s you he’s not too bothered.

“Do you need anything?” He questions while changing the tv channel to something at least the tiniest bit interesting. Switching through the channels as he lands on a cheese channel, as odd as it may be you know he’s not changing channels for a while. “No I’m alright”. You respond your voice now nasally just like your boyfriends. It kinda causes a little laugh from him. “You sound like me”. He mentions earning a small smile from you.

Patting your leg with his long slender hands he sits back and watches the tv with you, not noticing your eyes getting heavy from the sickness and the tiring day you’ve had already. Upon seeing you doze off Allan reaches down and quickly pecks your forehead. “Get some sleep.”

Im sorry this sucks I hope to try to get better at writing him also I’m literally half asleep while writing this and South Park is playing on the tv and if I don’t post this ill forget about it.

[moneymartin]

OKOK SO I JUST SAW THE NOTIF!!

so hear me out…maybe reader is like a fam friend of Kate’s. They were best friends and played together all the time. They went to Iowa together, and are roommates. Reader plays volleyball, soccer, softball, wtv you want. And like a slow burn friends to lovers!!?? (i’m a whore for friends to lovers) i’m talking mutual pining, years of attraction and feelings…literally brewing for 22 years (kate’s going to be 24 soon, so like they’re moms were bestfriends so Kate and readers friendship started when they were like 2?)

PLSPLSPLSPLS IF U CAN!?😋

・❥・- no hard feelings.

summary: basically the req lol. r plays soccer at uoi and kate is a nervous wreck 😭

warnings: none rlly… just the use of y/n if that even counts as one??? 💀

rpf!!! don’t read it if ur uncomfortable 😣

wc: 2.25k

a/n: not my usual stuff, i know. i’ve just been itching to write something about kate :( plz don’t unfollow me guys and don’t leave me mooties </3 🤧 i swear i’m going back on my yjs grind once school ends. every divider is a timeskip btw cuz this is lowk long and im layz asfk… also kind of messy i’m so sorry

NOT PROOFREAD!!!!

22 years. you and kate have been friends for 22 fucking years, and she hasn’t picked up yet. your very obvious feelings for her are starting to fade the more she’s been avoiding them. it sucks so fucking much.

these stupid feelings started when both of you ended up at the same university and the same dorm. you never saw kate in that light. she was your mom’s best friend’s kid, and the rest was history. you played tackle football with her when she had nobody else to play with, practiced basketball with her. you two were practically attached to the hip. the same elementary, middle school, highschool, and the same damn college.

it wasn’t like you could just leave too. the scholarship you were offered for soccer was totally worth the taking, and you couldn’t leave behind the team either. the first few times you gained feelings for kate was when you were in middle school. ‘experimenting’ with your feelings. well, that was your guys’ excuse after you two losers got caught by her mom. after that it was just dating stupid boys to get your head out of it and your head off of kate. thankfully, she was trying to do the same exact solution. you knew a lot about her.

but the one thing you didn’t know was that she felt the exact same. she was just too scared to say it. its not like she wants to lose a 22 year friendship over her uncontrollable feelings. first thing she did was go to caitlin, and she was practically freaking the hell out over it. cait was definitely the anchor between the both of you. helping you with accidental arguments so you didn’t lose kate, helping you out with what to say when she was upset. it was good having someone like that, but it was so incredibly stressful having to consistently ask for some sort of advice.

eventually you were tired of it. tired of waiting for something to happen. waiting for a move to be made by kate or maybe just a few little hints that kept you going. although you couldn’t anymore. it was draining, like someone who didn’t realize what you felt about them. you told caitlin everything after that reality set in for you. it was the blinding of your feelings that let everything slip through your mind and basically fly over your head. how could you be so naive to believe that she did and you were just trying hard for nothing in return. it was dumb, and you knew that much.

one night after a long day of testing and practice, you stumble your way into your dorm, the door locked and a frown crossing your face. the keys were in your stupid locker. “open the door, please..” you murmur, voice tired and confused. you bring your fist up to the door and knock softly, the sound of the lock clicking and the door creaking open. “jeez. soccer must’ve been a pain in the ass. you look like shit.” kate laughs, grabbing your arm gently to stable your body. letting out a heavy huff of breath, you lean slightly into her and drop your arms to your sides. “tell me about it.” she smiles and hoists you up carefully, locking the door and bringing you to the living room.

the moment your butt hits the couch cushion you let out a soft sigh and look at kate, her big stupid and soft eyes locking onto yours. the corners of your lips curl up slightly and you snicker, raising your eyebrows. “do you really wanna know? cause its a stupid story.” you exaggerate and rub the back of your neck. kate takes the spot next to you and nods continuously, her head leaning onto your shoulder. “trust me, dude. i wanna hear it.”

“kay, well… coach dilanni was being a total douche about what i wanted to practice. i mean, its fucking practice for a reason. i’m supposed to practice what i need to practice! not what he wants me to practice.” your voice gets a little low and you start to slur out your words. the repeated words and slow murmurs make her laugh a little, her arm hooking around your neck and bringing your head towards hers. “and he gave me so much attitude. like, the more i tried to defend myself the more he spoke over me. the old head was thinking about benching me during the champ game!!!” you blurt out and let out a groan.

she starts to realize just how tired you are and pouts, her head moving away, and her hands cupping your face. your head involuntarily moves to stare at hers, your eyes half open, your lips pursed slightly, and your head dropped down a little. “he looks like a nice old guy but deep down that man has some serious problems,” you grumble. “and don’t even get me started on the tests i had to take.” kate’s eyebrows raise and her face stills for a moment when you bury your face deep into her neck. your breath tickles at her skin and she feels shivers running up and down her back. you’re so tired you don’t even realize what you’re doing.

“y/n…” she breathes out heavily and you hear her swallow down whatever she needs to say. your head pulls out and you look at her with big eyes too, just like how she did earlier. water forms in your ducts as you try to fight off the sleepiness, but the way kate is looking at you makes it hard to get off of her. “hm?” you hum and drop your head against her shoulder. “never mind, okay.” her voice drops too and softens a bit, a familiar heat rushing up to your face when she runs her fingers up and down your back.

the warmth of her body and the relief you feel when you hear her voice makes your head spin like crazy. its like she knows what you feel about her and is just doing this to mess with you. the second your eyes shut, kate sucks in a sharp breath in through her teeth and practically manhandles you. gently, of course. but shes picked you up like a damn baby and you don’t have the slightest intention of stopping her from doing it.

your stomach spins and churns awkwardly from the contact. you’ve known kate all your life, but right now it feels like you just saw her on campus for the first time. after you got that news you guys shared a room together. you suddenly get the reminder of your feelings for her, like a shit ton of fireworks igniting in your stomach. more so reigniting. she brushes her fingers up against your face to move a few strands of hair from it.

kate likes you. she really fucking does, and its just the fact that she can’t spit it out no matter how much she wants to. no matter how much she wants to scream it from the rooftop and tell the whole world about how she feels. she thinks you’re the prettiest girl she’s ever seen and she has that gut feeling where she believes that you feel the same way. she isn’t stupid but shes smitten and that’s blinding her as well. just like how it did to you.

“y’know how we’ve been friends for like.. a bajillion years?” she laughs nervously and curls her lips downwards a bit. you know that shes nervous and its starting to make you nervous too. you’re starting to sweat a little underneath your shirt and you can somehow feel it under your skin. “yeah, why?” you ask and open your eyes to look at her face. its all red, her eyes open wide with anxiety, and her mouth slightly parted.

“okay, listen to me and don’t freak out… please.” kate squeaks out and moves her hands away from you. her reactions and jitters cause you to sit up and watch her every move just to make sure she really doesn’t start to freak. theres a feeling in your stomach that can’t really be put into words. it’s that feeling where you wanna throw up because of your nerves and the wanna jump off a bridge before you hear what she says. “i won’t go crazy, you idiot. what’s wrong with you?” you ask with a little chuckle but it quickly fades away when you realize what she’s about to say.

you’re not feeling this because you’re embarrassed of what she’s feeling. you’re just nervous and not used to it. at least thats what you’re telling yourself. there’s a little voice in your head repeatedly telling you to “calm the fuck down!” and it isn’t really helping. your brain is fried from the tiredness you feel too, but this seems really important. “nothing is wrong with me, i just dunno.. need to tell you something before its too late.” she whispers and tilts her head to the side a little, figuring out how she has to say it and if she really should let you know. now that she’s declared that she needs to say this little thing before its ‘too late’ confirms everything you need to know.

“this probably sounds stupid and dumb and i’m going to sound like the biggest loser in the world,” she starts, her voice cracking and her face contorting in different ways you’ve never seen before. in all the years you’ve know kate, shes never been so anxious and nervous about something like this before. its kinda scary. “but i think i’m like.. really in love with you.” she stumbles over her words and buries her face into her hands. it takes you a moment to process what she says as the sleepiness corrupts your mind. “i’m sorry, what?” you mutter.

“i said i like you!!!” kate blurts out and you watch her face turn the reddest you’ve ever seen it. you’ve been with her for almost all of her relationships and this is the first time her face has ever looked like that. her previous partners have never had her like this, they’ve never had her the way you have, and you’re realizing that just now. “oh.” you gulp. the words you’ve been waiting to hear for more than half of your life have finally been said, and it is the greatest relief you’ve ever felt in your life. and everything makes sense now.

the way kate brushes up against you in the halls, the fact she always walks you to your classes no matter how far hers is from it, her taking you to soccer practice, her watching your games like how you watch her, and the fact that you are the reason she blushes like she’s embarrassed herself. although she hasn’t, she’s just so into you, and nothing is gonna change the way she feels. “‘oh?’ is that it?” kate spits out and starts to panic a little. after she’s just admitted, she’s expected something different from you. maybe the same thing? she doesn’t know what she was expecting, it just wasn’t that.

your eyes widen and your face grows redder the longer you stare at her and when your tiny tired peabrain registers that she reciprocates what you feel. “no! that’s not it, stupid, i like you too!” you blurt out as well and push her shoulders. kate has a look of something on her face. you can’t tell what it is but she seems happy about what you said, and that makes your emotions explode. “okay, you know what? i love you, actually! i love you, i love you, i love you!!!!!!!!” you stutter out a bunch of times. years and years of hoping and waiting that she’ll finally do something comes to a stop. “i have my whole damn life.” you murmur, catching your breath slightly from the continuous shouting of your feelings at her. the burning and churning in your stomach goes away and is replaced with a certain sense of relief. a relief that you haven’t felt in ages.

“oh so, you’re serious, serious?”

“yes, okay. i’m not joking, like i meant everything.”

“say you swear or i won’t believe one word you say.”

“i swear on coach dilanni’s life.” you giggle, fingers threading through kate’s blonde strands. her head is propped up on your chest and her eyes are slightly open. you two have been sitting there for about ten minutes, talking about why or how you even got these stupid little feelings for each other. but none of you are complaining. matter of fact, you’re both on the verge of falling asleep but the presence from each other makes you both wanna stay up all damn night if you could.

“he’s not gonna like that...” she murmurs, voice soft and slurring a bit. kate wraps her arms tight around your waist, her head moving into a more comfortable position. your hands are all over the place and you’re basically just messing up her hair, one of her eyes closing when a few strands get in her face. “you have no idea what you’re doing, huh?” her lips turn into that smile you know all too well now, and her eyes closing completely. a yawn escapes from in between your lips and she hears it, snapping her head upwards, that smile turning into a smirk.

“kiss me.”

and you do.

[marauroon]

okay so i saw your requests were open and decided to shoot my shot. so i have oral fixation and i always have something in my mouth, like im either always chewing on the back of a pen or pencil (I've lost count on how many times I've eaten wood like that 💀), or biting my nails or just subconsciously clenching my jaw hard. or, (pls don't judge me) i bite people. not very hard, of course.

so my request was, can you do sirius black x reader with oral fixation like this? maybe you could, I donno know, make it fluff? im tired of seeing so much smut on here and i don't even read smut.

you could definitely ignore this if you're busy or don't want to write it, it's completely up to you and no pressure!! love your writing, btw!!

(sorry for the long request)

sirius black x reader | 0.6k | fluff | masterlist.

thank you for the request sweetheart 🫶

It was late at night in the Gryffindor common room, and the fire was dying down to embers. You sat curled up on the couch, eyes half-closed as you absentmindedly chewed on the end of your quill. You didn’t even realize how close you were to biting through it until Sirius Black, stretched out lazily next to you, nudged your shoulder.

“You’re going to gnaw right through that thing, you know, love,” he said with a smirk, his dark eyes glinting in the firelight.

Startled, you looked down at the battered quill in your hand, a bit sheepish. “Can’t help it,” you murmured. “If it’s not the quill, it’s something else.”

Sirius’s smile grew wider, his fingers brushing your wrist as he leaned in a little closer. “I’ve noticed,” he said. “You’re always chewing on something, like a squirrel or a little…bitey thing,” His grin was teasing but kind. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling back, not denying it.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, popping the quill back in your mouth as you tried to focus on the parchment in front of you. Sirius, however, was not going to let it go so easily. He rested his arm on the back of the couch, leaning closer still, his shoulder pressing into yours.

“I mean, quills are one thing, but you’ve got a habit of nipping people, too.” He gave you a mock-serious look, raising an eyebrow. “Should I be on the lookout for a sneak attack?”

You felt your face heat up at his words, and you pretended to concentrate on your parchment, though you knew he wasn’t fooled. “I don’t bite hard,” you defended, laughing. “Just… sometimes I get this urge, and it’s just easier to…” You trailed off, hoping he’d drop it, but Sirius just looked more intrigued.

“Well, I think it’s adorable,” he said, surprising you. “And honestly, if you need something to sink your teeth into, you can always use me. I’m tough, I can take it,” he added with a wink.

You laughed, flustered. “What, you’re volunteering?”

“Of course,” he replied, shifting a bit closer and stretching his arm behind you. “I’m here to help with any of your needs,” he said, his tone light but with a glint of genuine affection in his eyes. “Especially the weird ones.”

You bit your lip, the urge to play along rising. “Okay, Sirius,” you said, leaning closer and pretending to inspect his shoulder. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He chuckled, watching you with a mixture of amusement and warmth, his face inches from yours. And maybe it was the glow of the firelight or the way he was looking at you, but it felt natural to lean in and playfully bite against his nose, just a quick nip, before pulling back in satisfied.

Sirius let out a laugh, his eyes widening a little in surprise before he broke into a smile, beaming as if you’d given him some kind of prize. “Oh, so that’s what it feels like!” he joked, scrunching up his nose in faux pain before lurching forward to place a messy kiss against your mouth. “Worth it.”

[romana-after-dark]

Room's on Fire: So Afraid

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader

Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader

Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader

Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Madonna learns her power.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

Extra warnings for chapter: I dont wanna spoint things so just proceed with caution. DM me if you'd like specifics before reading. I dont think its as bad as other things but.... you'll see

3.1k words (so sorry)

Support artists, like and reblog!

BTW if you dont read the lyrics usually i feel it really hits hard this time

I been alone All the years So many ways to count the tears I never change I never will I'm so afraid the way I feel Days when the rain and the sun are gone Black as night Agony's torn at my heart too long So afraid Slip and I fall and I die. ~ Go Insane, Fleetwood Mac

“He’s fucking unraveling.”

Ben is pacing inside the sanctuary, Will leaned against the wall listening to him rant. They were waiting for the others and Madonna, having to perform a healing ritual. As far as Will could tell, she was going to be okay outside the lasting scars and the mental terror, and she was past the point of miscarrying from the incident, but the people needed assurance. They needed to feel a part of something. The doors were opened other guard had seen what had happened, and from what he and Ben had heard from the rumblings of the people, they were nervous. Unsettled.

Will had to set the course straight, concocting a story of possession and torment by demons to explain Santi’s behaviors… which of course cleared Santi of responsibility but still left Delta scarred. He continued to listen to Ben’s rants.

“He’s gonna fuck it all up. Doesn’t he know more than anyone what we’re doing here? He could have killed the savior.”

“And Madonna.” Will reminds him, but Ben turns to glare at him.

“I’m aware of that. I’m aware of how important Madonna is, you don’t think I love her too? You don’t think I’ve spend every night in her bed-”

“Next to Frankie.”

Ben stopped, stepping forward and looking like he might start a fight. He was drunk, and when Ben was drunk he was either madly horny or ripe for anger fits. Will’d seen him kill a man with his bare hands at a orgy for kissing Frankie. Orgies were orgies, but Santi kept rules around Frankie, rules that had been enforced by Ben’s rage he pushed down below his crown of sunshine on his hair.

But then Frankie opened the door.

“Hey guys.” He walked in his formal wear, and Will had to admit he understood why everyone wanted a piece of him. His eyes were bright in the yellow light.

“Where’s Madonna?” Will asks.

“She’s finishing eating, Rey’s with her. I wanted to talk to you guys alone.”

Will nods.

Ben seems frustrated, crossing his arms in that pout he likes to do. ”I don’t like her alone with him.”

“He’s her personal guard, Benjamin. We have to trust him.”

He shakes his head. “We should rotate her guard so no one gets attached. You know how she breaks down everyones walls better than anyone, Frank.” There was a bit more bite than Frankie expected after the close nights they’d been spending in each other's arms next to Madonna, but when Ben was drinking it was always a bit of a guess.

“He’s her only friend. The first friend she’s had since we decided to set her dad on fire. I think we can allow her-”

“UUUUGGGHHHHHHHHH” Ben rolls his eyes and his whole head in annoyance. “Can’t she just be friends with Iris?”

Will spoke up now. “I think you ensured that won’t happen.”

“And you ensured she can’t trust Jonah” Frankie snapped, not sure why he was defending Ben. He didn’t know he did anything half the time.

Sighing, Will scrubbed his face and then held out his hands. “Both of you relax. I’ve got it taken care of. I doubt Rey has any interest in Madonna, but considering I don’t this Iris is putting out with him, we can’t be too sure. And considering what Pope did to her, we can’t have her falling into his arms. I’ve got it.”

Frankie nodded. “Rey doesn’t have eyes for anyone but Iris.”

Ben’s drunk anger shifted to his horny drunk. “To bad Madonna doesn’t have eyes for Iris.” He looked far away, smiling, no doubt thinking of their wife fucking the pretty cook. Will couldn’t deny she was beautiful… it was a wonder she was unclaimed by the time her punishment began.

A smack from Frabkie broke Ben out of his thoughts. “Ow!”

“You’re sick, you know that?”

“I can dream!”

Will was about to shout at them all to shut up when Pope opened the door. He wore a red tunic, reminding Will of pictures he’d seen of pentecost robes from the before. Not as tight as Frankie, but Frankie gained more weight in recent years. 

“Gentlemen.” He greeted, eyes raking over Frankie’s form. “Are we ready?”

Everyone nodded, Frankie doing his best to hide the anger, the furry, the disgust he felt at Santi. He could hurt him, but how dare he hurt Madonna?

Will nodded over to the entry to the church. “Frank, Ben, start the prayers. We’ll come out in a bit when Madonna arrives.”

Pope narrowed his eyes, but told Ben and Frankie to go, watching Frankie’s ass as he walked through the curtains to the congregation. 

“You couldn’t be more obvious, you know.”

He breaks Santi out of his lustful view.

“Hm?”

“Everyone knows you want Frankie more than anything. Can’t keep your eyes off him.”

Santi attempts to brush his concerns away with a whisk of his hand. “I love all my spouses.”

“You love Frankie.”

“I love him, Ben, you, Madonna.”

“You just want the savior-”

Rushing close to Will, Santi presses his chest against his lover and whispers in a harsh tone. “The savior is a part of her!”

Will grips his tunic, keeping them pulled close as he whispers in his ear. “You need. To calm. Down. Breaking her breaks the savior. Breaking her breaks the whole community. You are losing touch with reality and if you do not get. Your shit. Together. Everything will come crumbling down.” He pulls back just far rough to meet his eye and walks forward, backing Santi up until his ass hits the slab of marble they all deflowered their wife on. A faint trace of her blood remained.

Santi was panting, chest heaving and his cock rose in his robes. “Everything I do is for our community. Who do you think got her pregnant? We’re going to save this doomed earth, we’re bring The One Mighty and Strong to earth and Divine Mother will finally let us all be happy.”

“Santi…” Will caressed Santi’s face, enjoying how easily Santi submitted. Frankie was easy. Frankie melts at the simplest touch of anyone who shows him affection. Santi only submits to him. “You need to relax. She’s pregnant, and she’ll be okay. The savior is coming. You just need to-”

“Don’t tell me what to-” He begins to snap at Will, but before he can finish he’s turned around and bent over the altar. His tunic is being pulled up, and when his hands move to stop him, they are pinned down to the cold stone. “WHat are you doing?”

Spitting on his hole, Will lines his cock up at Santi’s ass and leans in. “You hurt Madonna. You need to learn a lesson.”

*

You enter at your cue, giving Rey’s hand a squeeze before he lets go to open the door. You hated this, you hated being out in public knowing everyone knew what was done to you. Will said Pope was possessed, that he was fighting a battle with the devil, spiritual warfare and he needed prayers, he needed your strength. You had to be strong for him. You forgave your husband and felt sympathy he was in so much pain… But why do you still want to recoil when he touches you? You were sleeping in your bed again, but one always accompanied you to help if the nightmares returned…. You never slept when it was Santi’s arms around you

Francisco and Ben were leading the congregation in prayers, praying for Pope’s strength in his battle and you prayed along, Francisco getting up to walk you down to the raised area. You remember, as you always did, walking down the aisle on your wedding day, unable to bare looking at them for too long, finding solace in Jonah’s eyes… Now he was talking nonsense, and you were worried about him.

The other day, early morning, you’d slipped out of Ben’s arms to find something to eat. Baby was kicking, apparently wanting sugar and you hoped Iris wasn’t up. Things were tense between you, and you could make your own pancakes. You had, of course, thanked her profusely for caring for you when… when it happened, genuinely grateful for the care she showed you… You wanted to be her friend again, god you really did, you wanted to go back to singing with Rey and her and Jonah in the kitchen… but something in the air had shifted.

Wish granted, Iris wasn’t there. Jonah was. He was drinking coffee, PJ pants slung low on his hips… No shirt. He had a lean body even at his age, hip bones prominent below the weak elastic and a trail of hair going down-

When the floor under you squeaks, Jonah stands up fully, shuffling to move behind the kitchen table. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be alone…”

“Baby wants pancakes.” You rub your stomach. He’s not looking at you. You make a move to the cabinets, But Jonah cuts off your path.

“I got it, you should rest.”

Your shoulders slump. “I’m not a baby, I’m just carrying one. Let me do it.”

Jonah shakes his head. “Please, just… let me.” He gives you a small smile. “I know you’re not a kid. They should all be afraid of you, Madonna.”

He made good pancakes.

*

Will and Pope returned from their prayers in the sanctuary, Pope looking… Off. He looked ruffled, confused, his eyes a little glassy… maybe Will exercised the demon out?

Pope began his prayers. “Our beloved Madonna, Holy and Beautiful, our maternal bride, has suffered pain and scarring from the demonic attacks of the devil, we must pray for heeling over her body.”

Will’s hands reach for the back of your dress, lowering the zipper when you gasp, jolting away and turning back to him. “What are you doing?!” You whisper, eyes watering with panic. Francisco mutters Will’s name, but he ignores him, opting to pull you close. He cups your face, whispering in your ear.

“They need to see the wounds, Madonna. They need to see you’re healing, they're worried.”

“But… I don’t wanna be naked, Will.” You turn to glance at the crowd, catching Pope glare. You shiver. “There’s people here who made fun of me…”

His fingers lay your hair down. “It’s just your dress, Madonna. Don’t worry, we’re right here. Trust me.” 

Echoes of the past flitter in your head.

I’m going to touch you, just stand there and take it. Trust me.

Will unzipped your dress, the fabric pooling down around your ankles. Murmurs wave over your body, whispers from the people who loved you. Were they mocking you? Were they laughing?

Just down to her underwear, Francisco.

Your bandages were off, but the skin was marred horrifically. It was bad enough those in the back could see it spreading over your pregnant stomach. Were there jealous women in the crown? Your dorm mates that didn’t understand why you were chosen?

Will’s hands find the clasp of your bra, and you tense again. “Will?”

“Just relax, Madonna. Relax for me. Don’t worry.”

It’s just me, it’s just external, don’t worry.

When his hands went for your underwear, you didn’t protest. 

You stood naked, your scared body on display for the whole congregation.

Your husbands stood at your side, each laying a hand on your stomach as the crowd began to pray. You felt like you were being punished, humiliated. What did you do wrong? Your lip quivers, panic rising in your chest again. No, no you would not melt down here. You see a woman who was particularly nasty to you… she tried to make you eat a worm because you didn’t say hi to her when you were 10 and she was 12… You were in one of your “no talking episodes” as your dad called them, the playground was too loud, your new bra you had to wear adding a sensation to your skin you hated… she took it personal, and tormented you for the next 12 years. She was smirking. 

You feel Ben’s hand on your ass, coping a feel.

You think of Will’s lies.

You look at Santi, his eyes only on your stomach. 

You look at Francisco, not saying the prayers and looking at Be’s hand on your ass.. Did you and the baby even matter to him? Why was he so disconnected?

You didn’t feel sad anymore.

You were angry.

“Kneel.”

Your voice, while quiet, makes the four of them turn to you, surprised by you. But no one moves.

“Kneel. If you’re praying for my healing, kneel.” You don’t look at them.

Santi speaks. “We don’t kneel to you, Madonna. You kneel to us.”

Your body wants to shake, you want to fold like you do every time a boundary is crossed but you don’t. 

“I am carrying the savior. I am more important than your ego.” You say, firm in your stance and keeping your voice steady. “Pray to the divine mother to protect me, if you really want this child,” you turn to Pope. “And to forgive your sins.” You turn to Francisco now, his eyes wide with fear. “Get on your knees. I know you know how.”

There was a beat of silence, everyone waiting for Pope’s movement, you knew. Then, Francisco kneels to you. Then Will. Then Pope. Then Ben, only ever following in what the others do.

When they do, a hush falls over the crowd.

You raise your arms, shouting. “We pray for a hedge of protection around me and my child.”

A voice from the crowd shouts, “hail to the mother and the savior!”

All throughout the room, the congregation echos the sentiments, shouting your praises as the smile grew on your face. They adored you. They loved you. Standing naked wasn’t humiliating, it was power. You feel Francisco’s thumb caress over your bare skin. He smiles as he mouths ‘Hail to the mother.’

*

You were running high on the endorphins, even excited enough to ride Will’s dick despite your protruding stomach. It was an amazing high, knowing the power you held, the power to make Santiago- Pope, you mean- to make Pope kneel at your command… he owed you. He owed you this. When Will fell asleep, you were still wide awake, unable to get the giddiness out of your system… So you slip a nightie over your body, pulling panties on and sneak out of the room. Jonah had said he’d make you more pancakes tonight if you were hungry and boy, baby was hungry. Rey, as predicted, was snoring in his chair and you have to stifle a giggle as you creepy past him, bare feet light on the wood flooring. 

The kitchen was dark, no Jonah… maybe you should go get him. Turning on the kitchen lights you go to exit out the other door, the servants entrance leading to the rooms of Jonah, Iris, and the other guards, but when you did, Jonah was there.

Right away, you knew something was wrong. He wreaked of alcohol, looked like he hadn't slept in days and was piss drunk, stumbling into the kitchen so hard he crashed into you. 

“Jonah-oh- I… was gonna take you up on the pancakes…” You mutter, backing away. “But maybe I can make some for you, you seem-”

He catches your wrist.

“I don’t want pancakes.” His voice is gruffer than you ever have known it. Pressing you against the counter, he crowds you in. 

Your heart beat picks up, instincts telling you to run, run, run…. But you can’t.

“What… what are you…”

His lips brush your neck before you can blink, his movements clunky and strange. “I want you.”

You try to push him away, but he’s much stronger. “Jonah stop! You’re talking crazy, you haven't been well, please, just-” Again, you try to wiggle away but his hand grabs your waist. “Just go to bed.”

Jonah scoffs, laughing sardonically. “Just like that? I tell you I want to fuck you and you say to sleep it off? Jesus christ, do you have no survival instincts? At all?”

“Please… please stop touching me Jonah…” You want to stop feeling his breath on your skin. “I won’t tell anyone. Just stop!” The tears come, crying and scared and trying to smack his hands away desperately and still trying to push out of his grasp.

“You should be screaming, honey, what is wrong with you?” His hand grips your hip, and you need him away from your baby, now.

With a closed mouth scream, you kick his shin and the shock is enough for him to let go so you take off, but he gives chase. Once again, you are pinned to the door. You knew you could scream. You start screaming, and Rey, or Will, or any of the others will be on their way in seconds and you’d be safe… ‘’

“Why are you doing this?” You sob in his arms, his fingers entangling in your hair. He pulls on it, and you close your mouth intime to not yell.

His hand caresses down your arm, making you shiver and feel so, so sick to your stomach. “God dammit, have the broken every fucking piece of you? Is that it?” Why was he so angry at you? What did you do wrong? Did you tempt him? He hand on your waste again, he keeps almost moving it up towards your breasts or down to your ass but never going far. Jonah rests his forehead on yours. “Why won’t you SCREAM!” He shouts his last word so loud in your face, the strong smell of alcohol bursting on your skin and you shout out loud.

“BECAUSE THEY’LL KILL YOU!” Your whole body heaves, panicing and you feel you might throw up. “ThEY’LL KILL YOU AND I’LL LOSE MY DAD AGAIN!”

His face turns into something pained, and while his hand reminds gripped in your hair to keep you there, he pulls back just enough for you to see him run a hand over his wet face. Right before he slammed it through the wall. You couldn’t help it, your body forced you to scream before your mouth stopped the voice, Jonah’s fist curling tightening and pulling your hair against your scalp as you continued to shout. He continued to punch the wall next to your head.

When Will burst through the door, everything went blank. As soon as Jonah was pulled off you, your body slid down the wall where you watched Will pummel Jonah. At some point, arms were wrapped around you, but you couldn’t tell if it was Rey or Frankie. Only the smell of weed narrowed it down.

You didn’t hear much, your ears ringing as you watched blood fly out of Jonah's mouth. Muffles words weren't as loud as the beats to Jonah's body. You were sure other people were in the room... there was shouting... but you couldn't see anything except Jonah going limp, only jolting weakly at each slam of Will's fists.

You aren’t even sure how you made it back to bed.

Shout out to @hornystan for editing, our beloved Frankie in his formal wear

Okay. So that happened.

JONAH what are you DOING BESTIE??????

PLEASE leave your THOOOTTSS and THOUGHTS!!! Frankie kneelings? Madonna chaneling hr anger??? Jonah doing... ALL THAT!!!!!!!

What are we thinking?

love you all so much! I know theres a lot of bullshit happening in the fandom but just know, dont trust everything you hear. I know at the very least one person the stupid confessions page is attacking is genuinely a kind, amazing person who was in the right <3 If there is a writer you dont think is nice or friendly enough... just keep it to yourself or talk to a few friends. You dont need to air it out publically.

Lets keep it chill, I say to me and my uuhhhh 30 readers B)

ANYWAY

Im like 60 followers away from 1000 followers on this account and i have a fun event planned!!!

I did this poll befoe, but its been like 10 chapters soooooooo

Save the children (which has absolutely nothing to do with QAnon who hijacked their hashtag) our currently supporting relief efforts in the Congo above our listed some quick facts that I hope you’ll take a moment to read, and if you can afford it, please consider making a donation. I have made a small one, but if we band together small donations make a difference

LOVE YOU ALL!

How to keep up with the story!

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[xelmokidx]

hello

First of all, I really like it posts and how r u

Second of all I was wondering if you still do metal lorda characters or IT characters?

Because if you did I was wondering if you could do a story or some headcannons.

Headcannon-

What it would be like dating hunter Sylvester

Or an angst story with Richie tozier with light smut, aged up of course

No pressure at all btw

Anyway have a miraculous day!

✌️ 😁

IM SO SORRY FOR NOT ANSWERING EARLIER, I WAS SO SWAMPED WITH FINALS WEEK😭💀

ima do the metal lords request, ( I just haven’t watched -IT in a rlly long time 😭😭)

Hunter Sylvester x fem!reader

what it’s like dating Hunter Sylvester

Will drill you on metal knowledge cuz it’s his hyperfixation

like you will know just as much as he does by like the second week of dating

height difference go brrrrr

fore head kisses go crazy

is a softie but doesn’t want to be

like will beg for cuddles, cuddle you and then halfway through cuddling, will gain conciseness and push you away

(then he’ll feel rlly bad and cuddle you ten times harder)

sleepovers 🔛🔝‼️

he has such a huge and beautiful house that you insist on staying there 24/7

I mean he has all the good snacks and such a comfy bed, why wouldn’t you want to stay over for eternity??

night long car rides!!

Omg I can just imagine driving at night in like a downtown area and just talking about life and your future together

then you guys make out in his car

speaking of make outs, he does not know how to do that when you guys first start dating

like pretty boys clueless

you teach him the littlest amount of basic info

omg I can just see him like being a nerd a writing down all of the stuff your saying 😭😭

He’s literally like 🤓✍️

Sitting in at band seshes

you and Emily are besties

helping him write his songs

(there are like fifteen songs he’s written about you)

sitting on his lap whilst he writes songs

or sitting on his lap while watching movies

or sitting on his lap while in band practice

just sitting on his lap‼️‼️

braiding his hair !!

you search up YouTube tutorials in how to do different types of braids and hair styles

and if you have long hair then he can braid yours

also!! As a black curly hair girly I have this thing where I think that he doesn’t like people touching his hair, just like us curly haired people don’t like people touching our hair

so I think that if the reader has curly hair, then you guys both have mutual understanding on people violating your personal space and touching you hair, which not only brings you together but also helps you guys feel safe with one another

omg sorry for the rant lmao

Anyways

romcoms

I think he totally digs them but acts like he doesn’t

his fav romcom is ten things I hate about you

do you guys see the vision cuz I see the vision

he wants to be your Patrick and you are this kat

omg i just had a thought

what if he made a metal cover of can't take my eyes off of you 😭😭😭

DO YIU GUYS SEE THE VISION PLS TELL ME YOU SEE THE VISION

Halloween!!

you are nina the killer and he’s either Jeff the killer or Nina’s canon bf eyeless Jack ( creepypasta fandom unite!!!)

he want to stay in a watch horror movie but you want to go trick or treating

he gives and you both go trick or treating

he hates Christmas I cna feel it in my bones

bur if you love Christmas he will do a complete 180 and act like he enjoys it just a little bit

will loathe your celebrity crush with his entire soul heart and bones

like he will wish death upon them

and your all like “hunter it’s not like I’m gonna date Louis partridge he’s dating Olivia Rodrigo” and he’s all like “good cuz he can’t have you 😠😠”

has a crush on Elvira

I think that’s all the headcanonna I have in me 💀💀

let me know if there’s anything else you guys want me to write, I’m on summer so I have so much time to write !!! love you freaky freaks

[lovebvni]

a dream i had + how it pertains to shifting

so, as you guys know i am a dream interpreter, but i am also a reality shifter. a dream i recently had really reminded me of shifting and parts of it have stuck with me for a little while now. i had this dream on the 19th of december in pretty sure, and it is currently the 22nd and i still remember it. this isn’t normal for me. so i will explain the parts that feel the most important then get into the message.

sorry this is kinda long!

the part of the dream was this:

two litte girls, one black and one white, said they were going to run away to their and get married. they showed us a dress and i said something like “your father and i made that dress!” (i am not married in my cr btw AND THE GIRLS R NOT RELATED HELP ME) this dress it had strawberries on it and it was pink and white with ruffles around the trim and sleeves. both strawberries and pink and white are signs from my soulmate. pink is his favorite colour and the main sign i get from him is strawberries! when typing this yesterday, i got this sign n i was like aww!

anyways, i decided i was gonna help them, even after the trouble they cause me before (they like kept breaking into my house n shit. they were little ghosts at this point) but, in order to help them, i had to open a “portal”. it was a green bush over the side of a brick building. it was circular with blue flowers. they looked like lillie’s of the valley but turned upward. they were light blue. i’m pretty sure they were canterbury bell or blue coral bell flowers. it was very interesting. the flower on the bottom right had water in it. earlier i had visited it this exact place and tried to pour the water from that flower into my white candle (which was either made OF my mother or given to me by her. i hope it’s the second option) this didn’t work earlier, and i had the candle again. i leaned down again in front of this flower and pulled out the candle. i started pouring the wax from it into the flower. i’m pretty sure it started to glow, but then i woke up.

i have no idea what happened in this dream afterwards, but i feel in my heart that i was able to get these girls home and then i went through for something. idk LMAO

anyways that was the serious part, what the meaning could be for my shifting journey.

very obviously, it’s saying reverse how i do this. instead of trying to take from the “fountain of life” aka shifting, try to give. give part of myself. make it more fun. have less of a strategy and do more what feels right, you know?

i feel like this can be applied to day to day life. don’t take someone’s energy, be willing to give some… even if it’s sacred to you. be willing to share and do more for others like i did for these girls.

btw i had a similar dream last night where i saved two cats n a plant (yeah a plant) from my fathers residence because they were all like dying, malnourished n stuff like that. i did eventually n they were all safe. it made me very happy.

helping others is a reoccurring theme now, and i feel like that’s going to be the chapter i’m stepping into now :)

im very excited for this new journey coming to me. one where i can rest and guide, fulfill my souls purpose and also have some fun !!!

i love u!! thank u for reading :)

[ropebuny]

im so sorry but i can't with the pedo callout post and then the posts right next to it for daddy to do stuff to you on your blog djksgehrk. like -- i might be wrong here -- but is it possible faggotrocious and you both have..... kink related fantasies? of ageplay? with no actual evidence that you're fr acting on them outside of kink contexts? there's no actual evidence either u or faggotrocious is sexually abusing underage people or being sexually abused; that'd be a different thing. what you screenshotted are some edgy posts where it's unclear how much fantasy it is, sure, but given the context of horny posting can we assume it's a kink? i swearrrrr to god ppl take any chance to cancel trans fems w "gross" kinks at any moment lmao

I understand what you mean. but you’re saying like I made that post to ‘cancel trans fems w gross kinks’ which I don’t appreciate btw. this has nothing to do with cancelling trans fems with gross kinks. I’m an avid supporter or gross kinks, very clearly. lots of my mutuals are gross trans fems and I love them with all of my heart and I was in a relationship with one for 3.5 years and my best friend is a trans masc with gross kinks.

but this person I posted about literally reblogs things like “you hate pedos for loving children more than you ever will” that is Not normal horny posting btw. and them saying how “pedos are silly haha :3 ^_^” is Not normal horny posting btw. and literally nowhere on there blog is stated that this is all fantasy. but it is on mine. so please don’t compare my posts with theirs lol. and they rbed a photo of literal teenagers and made a weird tag that said something like “I need to be them. and I need to [redacted]” which I can only speculate means something sexual towards the kids in the picture. which is Not normal horny posting when you’re involving actual kids. like we aren’t even on the hypothetical side anymore, that is a photo of actual teenagers they reblogged on a blog where they talk about being a pedo, supporting pedos etc… is that not a little weird to you ? and not like. oh weird kinks, whatever. but like. weird, on the illegal territory ? weird, like this isn’t a kink anymore because you are involving not only hypothetical but also literal kids ? it’s not like they post ageplay like I do where I, an adult, want to pretend to be little with a consenting partner and I post about my fantasies. they post things like “pedos are silly ^_^ x3” which is weird in my opinion, because you are lumping all pedos in one positive group. like why would you do that unless you were a pedo or supported them ? like talking about pedos in any light that isn’t “I hate them” on nsfw tumblr is weird to me. cause even ageplay accounts on here are like “dni if you’re an actual pedo” but this person has never written anything like that, but instead reblogs what clearly seems like pro-pedo posts. which is WEIRD to me and no longer considered a kink and many others agreed with me

like I’m all for kink positivity. I think people using the ‘p3do bait’ tag is weird as hell but if I check their profile and see that they are over 18, not much I can do. but that person I called out has no age in their bio which is immediately a red flag. and the pedo joking, calling themselves a pedo and how they support pedos etc… is not normal horny posting. and even if they thought it was and they weren’t an actual pedo, they are making a community for pedos to interact with. I make it avidly clear on my blog that I despise actual pedos and I constantly make sure to out them so when I saw this, I did so. without ever thinking about their gender or if they’re trans cause that’s the least that matters in this situation. like if one of my mutuals rbed something like this, I’d immediately have the same problem with them. and you don’t need to “actually sexually abuse anyone underage” like you say there is no proof they are doing so. yes,,,,, but if you’re a pedo who has sexual thoughts about kids and posts about it, you’re a bad person. no actual inappropriate contact with a child is needed for you to be considered a bad person in that case

[ahqkas]

helloo! i hope ur doing well ^^ (pls beware of very long message... sorry for the long messages btw im rlly talkative HAHAH)

OOH thats actually interesting, and i agree! it actually brings to light the parallels between both harry and mattheo! harry potter being this amazing child who survived voldy, and then mattheo riddle who's feared due to being related by that same man by blood. tbh, dumbledore was probably a bit hesitant and nervous to approach mattheo abt his situation with voldy but im not entirely sure abt it (im not that caught up with dumbledore lore, sorry 😭),, but i agree that he will give vv big special treatment to both mattheo and harry!!

YESYESYES. THIS IS IT. THIS IS THE LORE THAT IVE BEEN MISSING. i think this 'harry-mattheo' part tends to be overlooked (?? then again im not too sure, since whenever i scroll in tumblr i see mostly fics HAHAH, not that im complaining tho),, but my hcs were a bit related to the parallels i mentioned above ^^, it's like harry is in the light and mattheo's in the dark. harry's praised for his power (??) for surviving against the attacks of voldy as a baby and as the 'chosen one', whilst mattheo was in fact feared from being relatively tied, body and soul to voldemort. mattheo was never praised for withstanding the bs his father did and for being strong from the things he individually experienced as a son yk.

i'd like to think that harry actively avoids mattheo maybe, and he avoids him much MUCH more than draco. draco's whines he can tolerate, but the stare of riddle? HE'S RUNNING (jk). honestly potter and riddle would be the talk of hogwarts for a while bc yk:

"pspsps did u hear that 'you-know-who's son is quite literally breathing the same air and walking on the same hallway as potter, the one who survived his father's curse or whatever?!?!?! GASP' and they prob thought some big drama would happen but no, these two guys AVOID each other like the plague 😭. while harry avoids riddle, i don't think he'd sit by if he thinks that mattheo is doing something that actively hurts people.

for mattheo, idk tbh… but i was thinking that mattheo has this hidden jealousy deep down, since potter is being praised for his strength for surviving voldy's thing, but what about him that survived his father's antics and pressure? but its just my hc, i rlly rlly wanna look further into it though!!

i'm still trying to think of a dynamic, both harry and mattheo since im not sure of its accuracy and i rlly want it as lore accurate as possible to satiate my thirst HAHA, but thank you for coming to my ted talk!!

anw, i hope your doing and resting well <33 pls make sure to drink water and eat, and stay safe and healthy!! mwa <3 - c: anon

HII MY LOVE don’t worry i love listening to u !!! that’s okay i don’t really know much about dumbledore myself just the stuff i’ve seen online since i didn’t really pay attention to him when i read the books 😭😭 ,

that’s so true everyone looked up to harry bc of the whole voldemort & ‘the chosen one’ thing but no one noticed mattheo and when they did they’d either avoid him or let him know with their gazes that they don’t like him much , which is from mattheo’s pov unfair bc he obviously didn’t ask for being the blood of the dark lord && here comes the whole thing with him bullying other students at hogwarts when he was younger , yk how draco did so, mattheo would do exactly the same . he was finally feared at the school (kids bullied HIM at the orphanage bc he couldn’t stand up for himself) and he took the chance , i think he’d stop with the harassing during like 4th year when he matured and also bc there was the rise of voldy so he got afraid his father would try & success in finding him soooo his mind was occupied with other things like making fun of other students yk where i’m getting ? 😭😭

THEY WOULD TALK ABOUT THEM 😭😭😭 and you’re so right about mattheo being jealous , potter’s getting all the attention after all, professors adore him (especially the headmaster) && he’s getting praised for literally breathing ??? mattheo’s full of jealousy , although harry’s parents are dead , i think mattheo would often stare at him & the weasley family at the train station at the beginning and end of the school term bc suddenly they’re hugging him and kissing all over his face , something mattheo could only dream of ; the touch of love.

we should write our own rewrite of the hp lore and add mattheo as well 😭😭 may i use these hcs for my fanfics angel ?? u have no idea how much i adore talking about this w u <33

[taiiunknown]

❤️LOVE AND AFFECTION 😫

RiRiXReader 🫶🏽

Summary: y/n and her bestfriend goes to this cool party bc that’s all they have been doing ever since they got to college, Y/n and RiRi run into each other a hit off and end the night off very well…

Warning: Drugs/Alcohol, flirting, cussing,pet names,a little smut,fluff .

Btw I got this idea while I was listening to love and affection by Rihanna and future sooo…ya 😭❤️

It was a normal Day At MIT I honestly got here on a cool scholarship since I won this robotics competition in highschool, and for me being a pretty girl I had a good little amount of nerd in me . I’m a freshman in college so the only person I know her really is a couple people but I mostly be with my best friend (Gia) Me and Gia been friends for the absolute longest so I really claimed her as my little sister and she claimed me as her big sis since I’m one year older than her . Im 19 and Gia is 18 and something very opposite of us is that I’m more of the mean one and Gia is the nice one.

Luckily both of us had got paired for the same dorm which why for the last couple of months we been going to parties non stop !

It was this party tonight that had me and Gia excited for it because we both bought these cute outfits that we have been dying to wear !!

(Gia outfit is pic 2). (Y/n outfit is pic 1 )

After leaving our dorms we begin to head to the party bc we just felt like it was time to leave due to it being 10:00 pm

*19 minutes later*

When we arrived all we seen was the mansion having lights coming out of it and hearing ( Swimming pools- Kendrick Lamar)

“OOOH THIS MY SHIT!” I said dancing while walking towards the drinks

“ITS TIME TO GET FUCKED UP!!!” Gia screamed while following behind me, me and Gia took a total of 5 shots separately bc we really wanted to have a amazing night . “Ima be right back Gia I’m going to the restroom,okay ?” I said slurring a little “okay ! Im finna go flirt with dee he been staring at me since I got here” Gia said giggling a little.

(I like tuh ~ carnage)

“I like to make money”

“Get turnt”

The song change with ease as I hear people yelling the lyrics, I begin having to go all the way upstairs to get to a open bathroom bc people was either making out or doing drugs in the down stairs ones. When I got to the top it was crowded with people grinding on each other and a line for the bathroom, I took matters into my own hands and just begin to walk into one of the rooms bc I know it’s bathrooms in the rooms. When I opened one of the doors I begin to walk in and see a girl who sitting on the bed rolling up “oh- IM SO SORRY I WAS JUST LOOKING FOR A FREE BATHROOM!” I say hurriedly walking back out the door “WAIT!” The girl say “come here..” she says and I obey bc believe or not I found her very attractive and was kinda weak in the knees for her “yes?” I said innocently “you can go ahead I don’t live here my friend does and he let me come in his room to chill for a minute” she says cooly “cool,thank you so much!” I say running to the bathroom bc I really had to pee

*3 minutes later*

I walked out the bathroom now seeing her blowing smoke out of her nose “do you mind if I hit that?” I say sweetly “Ya,ya here.” She says

I take a little hit of the blunt then passing it back,

“What’s your name baby ?” She says lowly which kinda made my cookie jump “umm..y/n, What about you ?” I say kinda blushing “RiRi,RiRi Williams” she says with a grin then taking another hit of her blunts.

“Well..nice to meet you, and thank you again.” I said slowly walking back to the door, “nice to meet you too,pretty!” RiRi said blowing smoke 💨.when I left out I let out a breath that I didn’t even know I was holding in for so long, I don’t know it was something about RiRi that kinda got me aroused she was just so chill and how she was eyeing me kinda made me weak in the knees.

After a couple of hours me and Gia got drunk some more and begin to give hella people lap dances mostly out friends, let’s just say we are the life of every party. As I was twerking and I mean just showing out I felt hands hold on to my waist while I grind to the music , all I heard was “omg” and “OOP”’s in the background I didn’t even bother to look back till Gia came up to me and the random person and was like “okay Y/n,don’t brain wash this one” she said while giggling after she said that I looking back and seen the one and only RIRI WILLIAMS I instantly thought to stop grinding on her but instead I grabbed her hand and held them as I kept grinding till the song sadly ended. After the dance me and RiRi started talking a little even though I was totally wasted,in the middle of the convo I literally had to run back up to restroom in the bedroom to throw up. Not even noticing RiRi watching me all I heard was “Let it out pretty, I’m finna go get you some water so stay right here.” She said in demanding voice I sat on the bathroom floor tryna recover everything that just happened when I hear RiRi coming back with a water bottle, “here drink this.” She said, I took the water bottle and drink a little bit of it then gave it back to her, “Can you take me back to my dorm ?” I asked RiRi kinda slurring over my words “ye ma, give me a sec to find your Gia” she said finna walk off to leave “-WAIT ! How do you know Gia ?” I asked confused bc I literally know everyone Gia knows “Me and Gia have class together and she kinda talk about you a lot so when I heard you tell me your name I automatically knew you.” She said with a flirty grin on her face “oh.” I croaked out then leaning back over the toilet bc I had to puke again. “I will be right back !drink that fucking water!!” RiRi yelled while running out the room to go find Gia. In the front seat of RiRi car all I hear is Gia drunk talking to RiRi about me “Tai is available you know ?” Gia said grinning “G! Why would you say that?” I asked while holding my head bc it was hurting really bad “it’s ok,Mami she just being supportive” RiRi said grabbing my chin so I can look at her “ya,MAMI!” Gia mimicked drunkly. RiRi just laughed at Gia bickering till we got back to the dorm halls “COME ON SO I CAN PUT YALL TO BED!” RiRi shouted so we can walk faster and we did bc we kinda got scared. When we made it inside me and Gia dorm RiRi helped each of us to our beds even though she kinda had to struggle to get Gia to lay down, when she finally did she closed Gia door and came towards me who kinda sobered up, “I’m sorry you got to handle us like this” I said kinda frowning bc it was kinda embarrassing “It’s cool ma,I rather it be me getting you and gia home then a creep” she said slowly taking me towards my room, RiRi sat me on my bed and started to take off my shoes, she then walked towards my closet to find me a t-shirt to change in. “Change into this” she said lowly handing me a t-shirt and some shorts, RiRi stepped out the room while I changed. I peeped my head out my door “RiRi I’m done.” I said “ok you need anything else before I go ?” She said, I said nothing just grabbed her by her arm and began kissing her in the messiest way as possible, after that RiRi close my room door closed while I’m now kissing her neck “Fuck baby” RiRi moaned while leading me to my bed, with out think I took off my shit knowing I didn’t have my bra on and straddled her lap while she sitting on my bed “Wait- Are you sure ?” RiRi asked looking at me cautiously “yes trust me if I didn’t want to do this I wouldn’t have kept grinding on you at the party.” I said smiling bc ever since I first seen her all I thought about was how she would look in between my legs

GETS A LITTLE RATED R RIGHT HERE 🫢…

“FUCK! RIRI RIGHT THERE DADDY!!” I moaned as RiRi was 3 fingers feel into my cunt, “you like that Mami? Huh?” She asked kissing my neck “ye-” I couldn’t even finish my word as I felt my stomach squeezing a little knowing I was so close “cum for me,Ma” RiRi whispered in my ear going faster “FUCK !” I screamed while cumming all over her fingers and panting heavily, “Yes,Good girl” RiRi said lowly “open your legs for me so I can taste you” RiRi said hungrily, “Shit” I whispered as RiRi swirls her tongue in my leaking hole “you taste so good y/n” RiRi moaned. “SHITTTT RIRI” I screamed as she literally rode her clit against mines in a ungodly pace “fuck you’re so wet !” RiRi moaned out loud “cum with me baby” RiRi said while grabbing my neck and speeding up faster “FU-” we both screamed as we came at the same time.

Ok it’s the end of the Rated R scenes 💀

After RiRi fucked the shit out of me for literally a hour she ran to the bathroom to turn on the shower,we showered together than after that I gave her a shirt and a pair of my basket ball shorts that I stole from my ex that she would never know of.we both layed in my bed cuddling a bit when we heard someone approached my room door “WAS YALL JUST FUCKING ?!!” Gia shouted from behind my door, “NO!” I shouted back while looking at RiRi who was now laughing “STOP LYING I HEARD YOU CAN RIRI “DADDY” 5 times” she laughed out now walking back to her room. “At least she knows who your daddy is now.” RiRi said laughing “Fuck you both” I said playfully shoving her shoulder “me and you already fucked now you want to fuck Gia?” RiRi asked with a smirk “Go to sleep.” I said laying down on her chest .

THE END !🙂

[tddyhyck]

BLUE! HI! sorry i dipped i’ve been trying to sit down and send u asks but my brain wouldn’t cooperate 😩

u’re so cute about jeno LOL. AND YESS @ THE HAND ON UR TUMMY (old ask things? sorry 😭) AND YEAH GRRRAHHH i forgot the word but condescending is exactly what i meant for jaemin 🥺🥺🥺🥺 consider: him eating u out and overstimulating u for ages and when u tell him u need the bathroom he’s just taunting u running his hands up and down ur thighs and i will shut up now 🤭 what u said about hyuck is so oughh NEED. Feet can be fun sometimes! I’m not into them but I don’t hate them either. “very light work” u say for the jeno thing 😭 should i have talked about him needing to piss when he’s inside u..? kkjukjkhkg. Ehehe well i was alr in the club BUT… had i not been… u’d have converted me 🫶 U saying “​​omg lil magic anon ofc” had me kicking my feet btw,, thank u!

Perv series thots now. THE RENJUN ONE I’M MINDBLOWN IT’S SO GOOD. I CAN’T EVEN SAY ANYTHING AB IT BECAUSE IT’S SOOO GOOD head empty. I love everything about it, love how he’s sweet love how he’s mean. Next: JENO. “when it’s the two of u he makes u cry on purpose” + regular mascara.. u are onto something. (also i just noticed ur banners r so pretty?) hyuck’s is so pervy but somehow so cute? I will NEVER shut up so lemme just make it “short”. U are so smart for jaemin headcanons #1,4,6,8,10,11,14. No words for the chenle one NO WORDS BECAUSE I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT IT 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 jisung’s list + the last 2 for him r so funny i love them. The mark one is cute too!

Ok now for the best fic to ever fic.. what’s your fantasy~~ I just think it’s so sweet of chenle to be concerned for reader and speeding. Thank u king. He deals with them so sweetly and it makes me melt. And he’s so fucking dirty 😭😭 acc so embarrassing to b caught in that and he likes it? Then him fucking reader in panties because it reminds him of that incident like sir 🥵 his dynamic w reader is so precious nd they’re both so sweet to each other. Reader is so insanely cute i’m gonna DIE it had me running laps I JUST LOVE THESE 2 SO MUCH? U wrote them so cute and soft nd it’s so sexy i love it.

alr.. leaving u some thoughts for in the next room too (let me know if i talk too much haha 🫶) my faves have to be mark, jaemin, haechan and chenle. Something ab how whiny mark is,, i liked that so much omg it awakened something in me. Jaem’s is INSANE it’s so sexy. I rlly liked how pretty hyuck’s was, u made the atmosphere so pretty with the descriptions nd i loved that, it felt so affectionate. and chenle of course 🤩 we love to see it. THE PANTY STUFFING OH MY GOD 😮‍💨 NEEEEEEEEED

ok that’s all for now, have a good day :3

~🪄

omg magic anon how are you! do not worry about taking any time to send asks you aren’t required 🫶🏻🫶🏻

(making a read more since i talk to much 🤭🤭)

jeno makes me feel things so strongly lately i love him and his cute short hair i want to nibble on him 😭😭 anyways no jaem would get that look in his eyes you know when he’s teasing and he has that little smirk yes precisely yes that and he’d taunt you like aww do you need to go that’s too bad i’m not done with you yEah same with feet im neutral ,,, jeno pissing while he’s in you good god ,,, he’d almost be embarrassed but when you started moaning and touching yourself he would fully let go watching you tummy bulge slightly before it started dribbling out and it’s splashing when he starts fucking you again ok gtg,,,

i just know renjun is soft but secretly horny like he seems so innocent but has fucked up fantasies … and jenO is so GRREBHVHASRHGGGGG i know he’s into crying he probably gets hard just seeing your eyes well up ,, and hyuck is nasty and i love that for him but he’s also gentle and sticky sweet,,, jisung is similar to renjun where he’s a closeted freak but he’s more shy to even bring things up but when he finally does he would be an embarrassed mess and it’s so cute

eeeck i’m so glad u liked it,, it was so fun and easy to write like in my mind chenle and reader have been together forever and know each other so well and he’s so gentle with them and vice verse but he knows their weak points and likes to make reader squirm and he’s so madly in love with them like 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 and his desire for them is crazy like he wants them and wants to take care of them and i’m getting carried away

omG i actually started marks differently and scrapped it but he was even whinier like he was mumbling about reader lemme quote it lol “you could feel his cock bounce in his sweats already hard and you wondered why ‘it’s not. i’m just. you just looked so sexy today your skirt kept flipping up’” i just think mark = whiny when he’s horny and down bad i am very affectionate for hyuck 🐻✨🌸💐 and u know i got carried away with chenle’s i couldn’t help myself he makes me feel freaky deaky fr like him making you keep them in on the ride home his cum pooling in you,,, stuffing them in your mouth when you get home yeah i’m totally normal

alSo u don’t talk to much i so enjoy chatting with u 🫶🏻🫶🏻 have the best day/night ☺️

[laurmaus]

My twitter rant thread j didnt even read before posting any of this it’s in my personal priv hold on let me get the context photo i started writing before she even opened her MOUTH to elaborate sorry im very passionaye about this

ALL OF THE ABOVE IS FUCKING FRAZY. WHAT THE HELL DO U MEAN U WANT TO WAIT TO GET TO KNOW HIM MORE DO U REALIZE HOW SRUPID THAT SOUNDS THE GARROTH OPTION US STUPID TOO HOW IS HE ETILL IN THE OICTYTR IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM He has been by your side for AS LONG AS HES KNOWN YOU literally every single waking moment he’s spent dedicated to protecting you and making you laugh and Smile and like yeah that doesn’t mean you’re obligated to like him back but to say you want to get to know him more first is fucking insane you know EVERYTHING possibke anout laurance you’ve known him since before he was a shadow night you’ve stayed with him by his bedside while he was blind you saw him change hair and change eyes and become your friend your guard your right hand man he lived with you when the threat of okasis and scaleswind came to light he was the ONLY ONE you could trust when the amulet was discovered while garroth was too busy being brainwashed you two went out and GOT SHIT DONE He’s given his heart out so many times risked his life loo ked after malachi been a shoulder to lean on im dead seriois when i say NO ONE ELSE in this entire series has done this much for aphmau like even in the stupid non canon short stories you can See how much he cares and values her so much more than just a love interest but a friend he’s always cared and remembered small insignificant things about her when NO ONE else did like that fall was her favorite season or that she really liked mash potatoes when he found out garroth had a crush on her he literally tried to help SO MANY TIMES FULLY KNOWING!!!!!what it would mean if his attempts actually worked like he is not a jealous person thats the whole point of the SPEEL HE GAVE TO GARROTH IN THE IRENE DIMENSION laurwnfe is completely willing to give his own chance of a romantic relationship up in exchange of helping his friend he says in the beginning of season two i think like oh even if you do get with someone else i know you don’t love me just please let me stay by your side CAFENZA SAYS IT TOO he’s always putting aside his own happiness to see aphmau happy and yeah that’s really sad and unhealthy but watching his light hearted character slowly be warped into one whose jealous and impulsive and puts his own judgement in the moment above the safety of others is the COMPLETE OPPOSITE of everything he stands for oughhhhthat just makes me mad and c aphmau is a BITCH for acting like shes in the middle of this super crazy unexplainable situation while all of this is happening like WTF R U TALKING ABOUT I want to wait to get to know him more WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO KNOW????????GENIUENLY LIKE AM I MISSING SOMETHING HERE and WHY is garroth still in the roster am i crazy for not getting that either HOW CAN USERUOUSLT BE CONSIDERING THE MAN WHO IS SO INSECURE HE ISOLATED HIMSELF ABANDONED YOU AND YOUR VILLAGE AS HEAD!!!GUARD!!!!! All bc he thought you got with laurance WHICH SHE LITERALLY DID BTW but thays besides the point garroth has ACCEPTED he can’t be with aphmau and to bring the whole catalyst of the s1 finale back a quarter into the next season is weird especially when it wasn’t acknowledged while the situation itself was happening Dragging garroth back as a love interest was weird to me i geniuenly dont get it but maybe tbats bc im really bias?????? Maybe i don’t see something here but idk i think the whole game laurance is waiting to play when garroth is saved is weird and not a situation aphmau should be allowing like girl stand up😭 Why is she agreeing to wait for garroth to see “who she chooses” do u realize how fucking insane that sounds i don’t know if i’m explaining this jna way that makes sense ok im tired of writing this BRING OLD LAURMAU BACK🔥🔥🔥🔥

[fox-meat]

1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 9, 14, 15, 20, 21, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 41, 45, 51, 55, 64, 70, 72

SO MANY QUESTIONS thank you <3 SO sorry if I missed one, pls forgive me~

1: Kitchen Counter, Couch, or on top of the dryer? Couch is usually easier, but a kitchen counter if I weren't too heavy would be amazing /)////(\ Like me sitting on it and making out with someone,, eeheehh idk why that always made my stomach do flips~

2: Your last sexual encounter: Good or Bad and why: GOOD I mean I'm just gonna count the very light teasing I got last night >//< it was just some licking/biting and touching my chest, I looooved it and would love more~

3: A fictional person that you think would be good in bed: VINCENT METZGER (From Boyfriend to Death 2) he could destroy me and I'd still be begging for more in the morning aaaaaaaaa,,,, Also Inuyasha, you can bite me I've wanted him to fuck me since I was like 14 and barely able to articulate what being fictosexual/romantic was and HERE WE ARE

5: Where is one place you would never have sex: Probably like the desert lmao??? Public I would be iffy on too unless it was like "Oh no we're in the back of a movie theatre and no one can hear/see us" or something, that would be fine hehe

6: Weirdest thing that ever made you horny: The way my partner (Bovine) turned off the water on the bathtub of the house we used to live in. I have no excuse, idk what did it with that, but yeah. Also how my other partner (Canine) bowls, they go bowling and I just really enjoy watching and realized it's kind of hot ;//3 idk!!! .. ALSO (Helianthus) MY THIRD PARTNER he does this thing where I'll say something that's like almost sus, and it goes "Uh, huuuhhhh~?" so teasingly and I hate him (I love him)

7: How are you after a really good f$%k? COLD IM ALWAYS SO COLD I know like you should be all hot and sweaty but I'm just FREEZING every time

9: Tell me your wettest dream? Oh god I can't even think of a good one AAGGHHH okay one that comes to mind is I'm sitting on one partner's dick while the other is eating me out, and mind you I DO NOT like being eaten out inrl, insecurity and just not being able to relax enough to even TRY and enjoy it, so it was interesting, but god it was so NICE,,,,,,,,

14: Something that you have hidden in your room that you don’t want anyone to find: It's not even sexy, it's just like dirty clothes I haven't put into my hamper or something LMAO I honestly wouldn't mind if people found my sex toys, you can pry my werewolf dildo from my cold, dead hands

15: Weirdest nickname a significant other has ever called you: Stinky >:( … I also get called Fox Meat!

20: If there’s one place a girl/guy should touch you to make you instantly horny, where is that? Hmmmm either my neck or my thighs, if it's like an innocent touch. If it's like, foreplay, playing with my tits will go FAR <////< but like just being all coy yeah touching my thighs or my neck makes me go lightheaded eheheh,,,,

21: Has a guy/girl even touched you or discreetly groped you while clubbing or in a crowded place? Crowded? Nah not really. There was a guy back when I was like 13-14 who like, we were out at a bonfire by the river and he like pretended to look at my necklace, but while holding it his fingers were like against my boob LOL and then we got spooked by something cracking around us, and we were all looking like "Alright who's there?" and he started touching my thigh. It was a LITTLE sus but he was like just feeling me up (he was my age btw!) but yeah wasn't that crowded it was like, me, him, my best friend, these two other guys, and like another two girls that were friends I think?

25: Worst possible time to get horny: WORK.

26: Do you like it when your sexual partner moans: YES I like it more when they growl, and I like any sounds they make if it's like right in my ear and breathing into it /)////(\

27: Worst sexual idea you ever had: Trying to be a power bottom. It is not the life for me LMAO I'm an okayish dom but nothing to brag about, I am MADE to be a total sub or a brat and that's about that. I'm a dom mostly through text not in actual practice ;3c

28: How much fapping is too much fapping: No amount is too much!

29: Best sexual complement you ever got: That I'm apparently good at giving head uwu !!! I will ride that high forever~ (and it was my one and only person I've ever given head to LMAO)

30: What do you think you and/or the opposite sex looks the sexiest in? Thigh highs are top tier no MATTER the gender or "sex", they're sexy and I love them, also really like those like mesh shirts and when people cover their nipples in tape OwO !!!!!!!!!

41: What is one song you’d like to have sex to? Right now I'm listening to Your Eyes by Antent and honestly? I'd fuck to it.

45: Is there anything you do on the internet that you would not like your significant other to see? It's not sexy: Anything I've written in venting posts to myself. I need an OUTLET to yell out my frustrations and anger and bad thoughts, because otherwise I'll split and act irrationally and impulsively. Writing them out makes me reread them again and again, and realize what I want to do with those thoughts. DBT might be working, huh…

51: Do you like to have phone sex? I USED TO I'm really not a huge fan anymore? Like I don't mind sending voice clips of myself, but like, being live and jerking off just makes me squirm (/neg)

55: If you had a penis, what would you name it? That's a good question… I think I'd name it Danny Sexbang. It's fitting.

64: Do you want someone aggressive or passive in bed? AGGRESSIVE. I need someone who can take control and do whatever they want to me <3 I'm just a little plaything~

70: What should a guy first do when about to have sex with you? Ask LMAO but honestly just foreplay is VERY important with me. Even just some sexy talk over text, a little bit of grinding and feeling me up, trust me I'll be ready for it o////o

72: Favourite sexual things a guy/girl does to you thats not sex? Like I've mentioned, speaking/breathing/growling into my ear is a big one, kissing/licking my neck (or anywhere else, that's good shit, good shit), there's probably more I can't think of

Anyways THANK YOU BOVINE FOR THESE QUESTIONS ILY

[yonemurishiroku]

All the ways Hades can do to look after his son

I know, I know, Yone you’ve rambled enough about Hades and Nico, yes I’m aware. Too bad I don’t care. It’s not like I haven’t claimed that I’m unhealthily obsessed with this underworld father-son duo.

So here’s how I picture every little thing Hades does to make sure he’s a part of Nico’s life. (Some of them is in my Immortal Nico AU, the rest might or might not. Idk)

- Hades definitely has a sort-of soul-link to Nico and Hazel. A thread. A guiding light. His death radar is top tier ofc because duh? But when it comes to Nico and Hazel, Hades/Pluto has this constantly present connection, by which he can actually zero in on their life forces effortlessly: every fluctuation, every beat, every up and down they make - he can feel them all.

Hades feels them walk the earth, hears Nico swiftly melt in and out of a shadow, knows Hazel just opens a new cave underground - their heartbeats a sweet, sweet tingling melody in his mind.

He’s the first to be alerted when there’s something wrong with their well-being.

He would definitely know if Nico just suddenly mysteriously disappears from the earth.

- Hades doesn’t keep track of where Nico goes to - bc he values personal privacy, thank you - yet when the need arises and with a bit of concentration, he can pinpoint his son’s destination easily enough - provided that there’s no divine intervention.

(And if that happens he flips)

- He greets Nico with a soft ‘Welcome back, son’ every time he visits and a “Well done, Nico” when he returns from a mission/ errand.

- They fight, of course. Children and parents fight all the time, more so when you have… rocky history and both of you are somewhat socially dysfunctional. When it happens, Hades resorts to asking Hestia for help. She’s always happy to share her advices and insights, bless her heart. And although every god has their ego, Hades is willing to be gentle and patient to Nico.

He had been harsh enough on him during all those teenage years.

- Zagreus always takes Nico’s side, btw. Why, you ask? Because I say so.

- He gives Nico black cards (plurals because I can’t let go of Nico di Angelo fanning himself with a set of credit cards like a spoiled little prince he is) with unlimited balance. Hades keeps track of the transactions, though.

Nico doesn’t spend much except for a few Happy Meals here and there. He isn’t the type to go around wasting money for unnecessary luxuries since he lived through the Great Depression. So while Hades doesn’t mind how much Nico spends, he does notice when there’s a suspicious purchase and would check in, just in case.

- Hazel has a few, too. She rarely uses it since she doesn’t go out of New Rome so usually as Nico travels around.

- Hades also gets Nico a mobile phone (it’s canon btw). And a tablet, the same one Thanatos uses. Because you can’t keep track of hundreds of souls by only your mind.

- And thus I say Nico is not tech-inexperienced because he is the first one to actually get his hands on his own electronic devices. He can play a game on his tablet just fine though only in the underworld.

- Weekly calls!!! Actually it’s only Zagreus, just because he’s stubborn, much to Nico’s annoyance. Hades calls monthly for catch up.

They rarely use IM but instead have this special underworld network, which is installed on a Smart TV in the Hades cabin and Nico’s cellphone (don’t ask). So this time a demigod just walks in on Nico reluctantly sighing in front of his TV “Yes Zag, I’d show you around when you come” or “You tell Melinoe to stop then I’ll be there on family dinner”, with either Zagreus of Hades on the wide screen.

- They text. It’s canon (technically).

- In case of urgency and importance, Hades sends a ghost to deliver his messages.

Hence, there’s this frequent scene in which Nico is saying something and abruptly shuts up before turning away, his eyes widen as he stares at the air. Then, after a few seconds, he just nods and waves his hands, “Alright, I’ll be there soon”.

“Sorry, Dad called!” and there he goes.

- His birthday presents get more and more meaningful as years pass and Nico grows up. They’re still weird, though, like this time Nico woke up to a freaking big black ram sniffing his hair - Hades’ equivalent of a puppy. He must have thought Nico’d want one since Cerberus can’t leave the Underworld and Mrs. O’Leary is technically Percy’s.

To others, the ram is indifferent at best and downright hostile at worse, yet is pretty clingy and protective of Nico. She might or might not understand what Nico says so he rambles to her anyway. Her hair is fluffy and warm, he enjoys taking naps with her.

(- Hades makes sure Hazel gets her birthday presents too, despite having to send it through Nico)

- On Maria’s and Bianca’s death anniversary, Hades resurfaces and together, they visit their graves then have lunch in the di Angelo residence. As Nico talks about his newly-gained memories, Hades shares his own reminiscence.

Maria’s grave is located in Italy so they basically jump continents (and an ocean) in one day for their beloved woman and girl of their lives.

- On other special occasions, Persephone takes them out on a low-key family vacation - just because the goddess wants to show off the new flower species she creates and Nico knows she wouldn’t use magic on him as Hades is there and she’s in good mood.

Nico always comes back from those days struggling to hold freaking huge bouquets in his arms, a flower crown resting on his head. His death aura is gone and he smells like… well, flowers. The Demeter cabin laughs at him.

- He makes sure to share Hazel, too. Both the Hades cabin and the Pluto shrine smell and look like flower shops until the following week but Nico dares not to tell Persephone to stop.

- When Nico actually takes it on himself to come back to school, Hades gives him the best tutors he can find amongst the remaining souls. So Nico has 1-on-1 classes in Elysium (bc the palace is too dark and gloomy for studying, and not so ideally for biology) regularly until he finishes the high-school curriculum.

He checks in with the tutors, btw. I mean like how an actual, authentic parent would talk to their children’ teachers. Nico always feels surreal and awkward every time he has to attend those… parent meetings.

- “I wonder which university I should attend…” “What’s there to fret? It’s not like you wouldn’t be able to afford a life if your major turns out to be useless.”

- Pampered-rich-kid-with-his-billionaire-dad energy. Damn I want one too.

- Hades takes his parenting seriously. It’s truth. It’s canon. I refuse to believe otherwise. Argue to the walls.

In conclusion, Hades loves Nico dearly and this is the hill I will die on.

This father-son duo is so wholesome yall every time I think of them I just cry in happiness.

I’d like to add more but the time’s up and my headache is killing me. Please gods bless me with dreams of this sweet, sweet, precious father-son love.