#it’s all the same shit over and over again it’s just repetitive

[pretty-pink-seaslug]

Team wisdom deserves to win just because of how many times it keeps pitting us against team power

[synthetic-sonata]

well since i now am effectively back to square one and am yet again alone and isolated due to pure circumstantial bullshit ig ill do what i did before and be insanely self indulgent and autistic about shit again . if i. have the energy to draw lol

[not-neverland06]

we're dating? ♡

logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've decided using the same X-men name/powers for the reader in my Logan fics is easier because coming up with superpowers is hard and stupid. They call you flux, like once, it's really just a nickname incoming warning for fluff so bad you'll get a cavity Summary: You're on probation from the team and official house arrest after a little accident with your powers. Logan knows you're going stir-crazy so he takes you to the arcade for some fun. And then your friendship takes a weird turn. (80's timeline in mind, but characters not from the 80’s will be mentioned) Clueless!reader

You’d had an accident, a few weeks ago. Well, accident might be downplaying it too much. You’d destroyed the garden and left a ten-foot crater in the backyard of Charles’ prestigious grounds. In your defense, you had warned them all that it wasn’t a good idea to take your cuffs off. 

The metal bands are entirely necessary to make sure you can’t lose control and wipe out everything around you. Manipulation at an atomic level is beyond fatal. You don’t want to think about what would have happened if you’d had the meltdown and the kids were anywhere near you. 

Charles had been able to shut you down, but now he’s keeping you on probation. You’ve been locked up in the mansion, unable to leave until you managed to get your abilities under control. There’s never been a problem with wearing the cuffs before. You don’t understand why he’s so against them now. 

You’re going stir-crazy. There’s only so many times you can pace your room before you start to lose your mind. He’s not even letting you teach classes anymore. You’re stuck training, all day, every day. 

“Focus!” Charles snaps and you resist the urge to turn his bones liquid. Maybe that would get him off your back. 

Instead of killing your friend, you glare at the large tank of water in front of you. You do what you’ve been doing for the past half hour. It fluctuates from liquid to gas to solid, and then liquid again. An endless cycle of repetition that makes you want to melt your brain so you don’t have to do this anymore. 

You drop your hand and huff. “This is pointless, Charles. What’s this even teaching me?”

He crosses his arms, walks over to you, and pointedly glares at the tank in front of you. You roll your eyes and look back at it. “Shit,” you hiss. In your frustration, the glass has cracked and splintered into dust. Water pools around your stool and leaks through the wood of the floor. You flick your wrist, the glass swirling around you before reforming into the tank. The water follows along, droplets lifting from the floor and dropping back into the container. 

“One moment of frustration, of distraction. That’s all it took.” Charles shakes his head and walks back over to his desk. He picks the cuffs up and you slip them silently back onto your wrists. “How can you be trusted to protect your team on the field if you can’t control this? What are you going to do when you’re panicked and fighting for your life?”

Shame bubbles in your gut. It makes you nauseous and forces your eyes to the floor so you don’t have to face him. He sighs, placing his hands on your shoulders and squeezing gently. You glance up at him briefly and he offers a strained smile. 

“This is for your protection, as much as you hate it, Flux. It’s necessary.” You scoff at the use of your X-Men name. Not much of an X-Man if you’re not even on the field anymore. 

“Right,” you mutter. “Thanks for the lesson in incompetency,” you don’t let him respond and slam the door to his office closed behind you. You feel bad the second you get outside and onto the porch. He doesn’t deserve your bitchiness. It’s your own fault you can’t get a handle on this. You don't have anyone to blame but yourself. 

You let out a dramatic sigh, throwing yourself into a rocking chair and running your hands over your face. The once comforting weight of your cuffs is now oppressing. It just feels like a constant reminder of your failure. You should already have a handle on all of this, but you struggle to even manipulate water. 

“Rough day?” You don’t open your eyes as Logan walks by. He takes a seat on the rocking chair beside you, letting out a low groan as he stretches. 

You let your hands drop into your lap, staring at the sunset so you don’t have to face him. You’ve already dealt with enough dejection today. You don’t need to look at him and be reminded that you want him in a way you can never have. 

“Mhm,” you hum, propping your head in your hand as you watch the sun disappear behind the clouds. The sky is painted in hues of pink and orange that seem too hopeful for how you feel right now. 

Logan chuckles, the sound low and gravely. It makes your heart stutter in your chest and you cringe in embarrassment. You know he can hear the way your heart practically beats free of your ribs when you’re around him. You’re sure with that nose of his he can smell some sort of hormonal change in you every time you lay eyes on him. 

You swear you’ve never felt this way about a man before. You haven’t had many boyfriends before, it’s not really common among mutants. Not many people are accepting of you when they know what you are. And some people are too into you. 

But you've had crushes, and none of them have been as bad as this one is. You want to gnaw on him. It sounds fucking insane every time you think about it. But when you train with him and he tears his shirt off, you want to sink your teeth into him and never let go. 

You feel feral around him, a side of you surfacing that you’re not used to. Maybe it’s because of his mutant abilities. They are very animalistic, it’s easy to blame that on how desperately you crave him. 

You hate being around him and despise not being in his presence. It’s conflicting, and more often than not you sound like a bumbling idiot when you speak to him because your brain is going in a million different directions. 

You hear the familiar click of his lighter and then he shifts again. You risk a peek over at him and regret it the second you do. His head is tilted back, eyes closed in relaxation as he stretches across the porch. Smoke leaks out of his lips as he groans in satisfaction. 

You have to pick your jaw up off the floor and make sure there isn’t drool on your chin. This is insane. You’re a grown woman, how does he have this much of an effect on you? He’s not even doing anything! He’s just sitting there and you want to jump his bones. 

You whip your head around, mumbling incoherently to yourself to get it together. Logan peaks an eye open and you miss the mischievous tilt to his lips. “Something wrong?”

I need to have sex with you or I’m going to explode. 

You stutter for a few seconds, getting your mind back together. “Just training with Charles,” you mutter. 

He sits up a little straighter and quirks a brow. When you don’t continue he sighs. “And?” He prods, impatient for your answer. You hope you’re not reading into it, but you think he’s been as disappointed by your absence from the team as you are. He always complains about being partnered up with Scott. You like to think it’s because he misses you. But you’re probably just delusional. 

“And, nothing,” you sigh. Your hands flop against your legs and you glare at the bands on your wrists. “No progress. I still can’t control them without these on, and my abilities are watered down and useless with the cuffs.”

Logan huffs, you’re caught off guard by the sudden warmth on your thigh. You glance down, eyes widening ever so slightly when you see his hand on your leg. It nearly covers the whole thing and when he squeezes your thigh you think you’re going to pass out. 

You’re friendly. But you’ve never been touchy. At least not like this. The placement of his palm is very intimate and you are struggling not to just get on your knees and profess your undying love. You take in a deep breath, looking up at him so you can get your heartbeat under control. 

But looking at him just makes it worse. Because there is so much faith and fondness in his gaze as he looks at you. His lips are tilted up, eyes soft, and you’ve never had someone make you feel so warm and secure from just a look. 

“You aren’t useless,” he tells you. He squeezes your thigh again before he retreats back to his chair. You have to clamp your jaw shut so you don’t beg him to keep touching you and never stop. “You’re just stuck in this house all day. You’ve got nothing to do but sit in your failure.”

You scoff and throw yourself back in your seat. “Don’t remind me. I’ve begged Charles to let me out.” Your gaze drifts to the crater in the backyard. Some of the kids have been working on filling it in, but whatever energy you’d let go of has left a permanent mark. “He refuses to give me permission.”

Logan laughs, the noise teasing and a little mean. Your brows furrow and you glance over at him with a questioning look. He tilts his head in disbelief like you’re an idiot. “Seriously, Flux? Just fuckin’ leave, who gives a shit?”

“Uh,” you think on it for a minute before weakly settling on, “Charles?”

His face falls and you sink lower into your seat. He looks out at the yard, gaze distant. His jaw clenches a few times before he puts the cigar out on the ashtray beside him. He gets to his feet and you think he might just leave. Instead, he turns towards you. 

You’re caught off guard by the little smirk on his face. “Wanna have some fun?”

Only an idiot would say no. 

You grin and place your hand in his, yelping slightly at how easily he pulls you to your feet. You stumble into his chest and are hesitant to back away when his hand drifts to rest on your waist. He looks down at you, smiling, he squeezes your waist once before he backs up. 

“Come on, kid.” He tugs you inside the house, leading you downstairs to the garage. You already know what he’s going for before the door is even open. 

“Didn’t Scott tell you to leave his bike alone?” Logan takes a step inside. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder and grinning at you. It makes your breath catch in your throat, the happiness on his face. You never see him like this around the others. 

You hate thinking like that. Placing too much importance on your relationship with him will only lead to heartbreak down the road. But, you never see him act the way he does with you with anyone else.

“Since when have I ever listened to Cyclops, sweetheart?” 

“Good point,” you mutter, moving to stand next to him. 

He straddles the seat and looks over expectantly at you. “Don’t you need a helmet?”

You shake your head, “Oh, no, it’ll ruin my hair.” You laugh but he gives you a deadpan look. You don’t regenerate the way he does. An accident would be a lot more fatal for you than it would be for him. You huff, “Relax, Lo, I can use my powers.” When he looks like he’s not going to drop it, you let some energy swirl around your fingers. It solidifies the air around your skin, you reach up and flick at his skull hard enough to hear the metal ding. 

He grunts, glaring down at your hand while you grin. “See,” you whisper, sliding onto the back of the bike and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m perfectly safe.” He shakes his head and starts the bike. 

The ride to the arcade is spent in silence. Logan always seems to break every speeding law known to man whenever he takes Scott’s bike out. You’re not sure if he does it to purposefully piss the man off, but it makes you cling to him like a wild animal. You feel like if you hit one speed bump you’re going to go flying. 

By the time he parks your legs feel like jello. He laughs a little at the way your face has blanched. Again, he offers you a hand and holds the door open to lead you inside. You’re trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this whole thing is odd. 

You guys are friends. And you’re friendlier with each other than most of the mutants in the school. But this feels different somehow. For one, Logan kind of despises the arcade. It’s an amalgamation of bad smells and loud noises, and it overwhelms his already sensitive senses. You’ve heard him complain about the smell of body odor and fake cheese enough times when you went on a field trip with the kids. 

Secondly, he’s being more touchy than he normally would. You’re not complaining. You weren’t exactly hugged a lot as a kid, mainly just passed between different mutant fetish clubs. Logan isn’t known for handing hugs out so easily. But right now, he doesn’t seem to be ready to not have at least one hand on you. 

Maybe he’s just cheering you up. You need to stop drifting so far into your mind and just enjoy the night. “Alright, what’s first bub?”

You grin and drag him towards the claw machine. “I’m horrible at these things,” you inform him as you put your quarters in. “But, I hold out hope that one day I’ll be able to actually beat this monster.”

Three failed attempts later, it’s become embarrassingly clear that you will never beat the claw machine. Logan isn’t even trying to hide his amusement as you become increasingly more frustrated. There’s a certain point where this game stops being fun and starts to be an affront to your character. 

Logan peers into the machine and asks, “What are you going for?”

“The pigeon,” you mutter. Your tongue pokes between your lips, and your eyes narrow in concentration. You aim the claw over the pigeon perfectly and slam your hand down on the big red button. 

You’re allowed five seconds of celebration before the damn thing slips out of the claws grasp and tumbles into the pile of stuffies below. “Dammit, Bart,” you let the ridiculous name you’ve come up with for the toy slip.

Logan snorts, leaning against the glass while you jam another quarter in the slot. “Bart?” He teases. 

You shake your head and give him a look out the side of your eye. “What, you think I call myself Flux because I’m good at coming up with names?” You give up after the last failed attempt and turn to face him with a huff. 

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Tough luck, kid.” He slings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you towards the concession stand. 

“Shut up,” you laugh, slapping lightly at his chest. 

The rest of the night is nice. He doesn’t play much except for the strength-oriented games. And then you kind of just exploit him for more tickets. By the time you get back to the mansion, you’ve forgotten all about why you were upset in the first place. 

Nothing had gone wrong, you didn’t have a total meltdown and wipe out the entire arcade. You don’t know why Charles was so afraid of letting you out. 

Logan walks you back to your room, his hand heavy on your lower back as you head up the stairs. You’re talking endlessly, filling up any gap of silence with rambling you’ve lost track of. You don’t know what it is about him that invites you to yap the way you do, but you’re always embarrassed by it the second he leaves. 

You reach your door and smile up at him. “Thanks, Lo.”

He gives you a soft smile, his eyes wrinkling endearingly at the corners. He reaches up and brushes some hair off your shoulder. There’s a certain shift in his expression that has your breath stopping short. Whatever else you were going to say to him tumbles off into an incomprehensible whisper. 

He leans down and every inappropriate thought you’ve ever had about him suddenly surges to the front of your mind. Your lips part in anticipation, thinking he’s going to kiss you and your fantasies are going to come to life. 

His lips brush against your cheek so gently you almost don’t feel them. “‘Night Flux,” he leans back and your body goes with him. He backs off with a smile, walking down the hall to his own room. You feel dazed, eyelashes fluttering rapidly as you fan your cheeks and try to come to terms with what just happened.

He didn’t kiss you, but you oddly aren’t disappointed. You go to bed that night with a lovesick grin on your face. Well, you would have. Were it not for the annoyingly British voice ringing out in your head, “Training’s at four tomorrow morning. Consider it your punishment for sneaking out.”

“Fuck,” you hiss to yourself. Stupid fucking telepaths. 

You thought the arcade was a one-off moment. But Logan keeps sneaking you out of the mansion. Charles hasn’t officially lifted the house arrest, but he’s given up trying to keep you inside. Besides, you’ve essentially got a chaperone since Logan is always with you. 

You make lunch for the two of you and he’ll take you out to the woods for a picnic. Or you’ll go to the movies together. Sometimes you don’t even do anything, just linger around each other. You enjoy the company, and you love having these quiet moments together with no one else around. 

Your favorite part of all of this has to be the way he’s started touching you. He’s always got a hand on your leg or back. And if he can’t do that, then you’re tucked into his side. It’s feeding into a starved part of you that you’ve left neglected for far too long. 

It’s only been about two weeks of these fun little adventures and odd behavior. You’re dreading the moment they’ll stop. You’re not sure when Logan’s going to deem you properly cheered up, but you’re hoping it’s not anytime soon. 

There have been a few more moments where you think your friendship might turn into something more, and every time you’ve been interrupted. You’re actually starting to feel a little edged. You’ve been considering just grabbing him and planting one on him. But every time you think about it you get sick to your stomach. 

You don’t want to make a move on him and end up getting rejected. You know he’s just being a good friend and taking care of you so you don’t end up spiraling too far in your head. It’s happened before, when you’ve been struggling with your abilities. He’s just keeping you from shutting down again and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable because you’re hopelessly in love. 

When you walk out of your room this morning you’re immediately smacked in the face. “What the fuck, guys?” You yell at the two kids running past your room. Not the best language for someone who's supposed to be a role model. You can’t be bothered though, not when they’re running around throwing pink rolls of streamer at your face. 

“Sorry!” Mary calls over her shoulder, laughing as she pins a heart up onto the wall. You’re sure Charles won’t appreciate the hole in his old ass mahogany wood. It’s only as you watch her run down the stairs that you register just what is going on. 

There is pink and red everywhere. It looks like Dollar Store Cupid has thrown up all over the mansion. You’ve been so caught up in your attraction to Logan that, ironically, you’ve forgotten what month it was. 

You grumble bitterly to yourself as you trudge down the stairs. Another Valentine’s Day alone and single. How lovely. You spot two kids giggling to themselves by the banister, they lean in like they’re going to kiss and you gag. “Hey!” You snap, and they jump apart, eyes wide with fear. “Quit it, get out of here.” They scramble off and you feel just a little bit vindicated. 

“Not a fan of young love, Flux?”

You groan and roll your eyes, turning around to find a very smug Scott watching you bully teenagers. “Shut it, Summers,” you warn. You point an accusing finger at him and he raises his hands in surrender. Faux innocence played across his insufferable smirk. “When you’re in a committed relationship, you don’t get to judge me.”

His brows turn down in confusion, “Wait, but aren’t you and Logan-”

He’s cut off by the sound of a loud crash down the hall. You both turn around just as one of the classroom doors slams open. A bright pink explosion hurtles from the doors and a throng of coughing students follows. 

Jubilee walks out a minute later, a guilty expression on her face. “Sorry, I was just trying to make it more Vanetine-y.” 

You glance over at Scott, grinning widely at him while you pat his shoulder and walk past him, leaving him to clean up the mess. “Enjoy the young love, Summers.”

You actively avoid Logan all day. You’re already facing constant reminders of how lonely you are. You see kids walking around with baskets of bears and chocolates. Or you catch them passing notes in class with scribbled hearts all over the front. 

There’s only so much a girl can take before she loses it. The last thing you need is to be faced with the man you have the worst unrequited crush on in history. But he doesn’t seem to get the hint. He’s everywhere you go, popping up around corners and trying to catch your attention. 

You keep brushing him off and pretending like you have something urgent you’re going to be late for. Eventually, though, he was going to catch up with you. 

It happens in the kitchen. Most of the kids are in their rooms or the library. The noise has died down and you’re alone. You grumble to yourself, ripping down a pink streamer that keeps drifting across the top of your head and pissing you off. You grab a frozen meal from the fridge and are about to microwave it when he speaks. 

“Huh, thought you’d want something a little more romantic than a frozen burrito.” 

You gasp, clutching your chest and whirling around on him while your heart races. “Logan, Jesus, you scared me.” He’s frowning at you, eyes glaring at the frozen package in your hand. “Um,” you toss it back in the freezer but the look on his face isn’t going away. “Yeah, I might just go with cereal instead.”

He looks at you and then glances behind him. You peer around his shoulder but you don’t see anything. Without much warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the stairs. “Logan?” There’s no point in trying to resist him, he could just toss you up the stairs if he wanted to. Still, the silence is kind of creeping you out. 

You call his name a few more times but give up when he makes it clear he’s not going to be answering you anytime. There’s a rotten feeling in your stomach. You have this awful idea like you’re in trouble for something. Like a little girl who's gotten her hand caught in the cookie jar too many times. 

He stops you in front of his door and nods towards it. “You want me to go inside?” He crosses his arms and glares down at you. You huff and mutter, “Jesus, fine.” What the hell is wrong with him?

You grab the doorknob to his room, glaring at him while you do. You throw the door open dramatically, taking a step inside and surveying the area. “Wow,” you suck your teeth and shake your head. “You have not decorated at all.”

“Shut up, smartass,” he mutters in your ear. Chills prick at your skin from his proximity. A shudder goes down your spine as the low tone of his voice reverberates through you. “Look a little harder.”

You roll your eyes but acquiesce. Another run over the room finally shows you what you missed. You gasp and rush towards his bed, “Holy shit, Bart!” He chuckles behind you as you pick the stuffed pigeon up. 

“Went back for him after we left,” Logan tells you. 

You glare at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How many tries did this take you?” He mouths a smug one and you roll your eyes in irritation. You look back down at the pigeon and smile.

He smells like the inside of a claw machine. His head is sewed on crookedly and you’re pretty sure he’s missing an eye. But he’s absolutely perfect to you. You’re about to thank Logan when you spot something metal wrapped around the stuffie’s neck. “What’s this,” you mumble to yourself. 

You slide your fingers under the chain and tug it off Bart’s neck. Logan’s dog tags dangle off your fingers and you stare at him in shock. A sudden cold dread washes over you and you find yourself immobile. “Logan,” you trail off, an unspoken question following his name. 

He smirks, walking towards you and slipping the tags out of your hand. “I wanted you to have this,” he says, his voice low like this moment is too precious to break, “so you know you’re not alone. You’re always so afraid of what’s going to happen if you lose control out in the field. But you forget, you’re not alone. You have me, you’re always going to have me.” He places the tags over your neck, untucking your hair from the chain. 

You don’t even have words for him. It’s such a deeply personal gift. But this also feels incredibly intimate. There’s no possible way for you to reason this away. This isn’t something “just friends” do. 

He seems to prefer your silence, anyway. One of his hands drifts from your neck and cups your jaw. With the utmost tenderness, he lifts your face to his. “Wanted to do this for a while,” he whispers. You almost ask what he’s talking about, but his lips are already covering yours. 

It’s incredibly soft, this kiss, softer than you’re used to. He’s barely putting any pressure on you and it makes you realize that you’re still not moving. You’re just standing there in shock, eyes wide open while the man you’ve wanted since you’ve known him kisses you. 

You drop Bart to the floor and your arms come up to twine around his neck. You finally close your eyes, let your body melt into his knowing he’ll catch you. The second you reciprocate he really kisses you. Neither of you hold back, each of you pouring all the pent-up desire you’ve felt for each other. 

You’ve spent so long dancing around this, around each other. It’s like a missing puzzle piece is returned to you as Logan holds you. You feel full, complete, warmer than you ever have before. 

You part from him - needing air - painfully slow. You don’t want to spend a second away from him now that you have him. You wish you didn’t have to breathe. Wished you could have kept kissing him and never stopped. 

Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss against your forehead like he can read your thoughts. You can feel the dorky smile that’s about to split your cheeks. You bite your lip, hoping it might suppress it, but you know it’s pointless. 

You look up at him with a cheeky twinkle in your eye. “Are you asking me to be your Valentine, Lo?”

He scoffs and pulls away from you slightly. “Do you have to ask your girlfriend to be your Valentine?”

Your eyes widen and your mouth opens and closes rapidly. “I- Well- I mean,” you take a full step back from him and shake your head. “What?” You finally settle on. “I mean, I’m not objecting, at all, but what?”

Logan tilts his head, a disbelieving look on his face. “What do you think we’ve been doing the past three weeks?”

You shake your head, stuttering and struggling for an answer. “I don’t know. I thought you were being a good friend!”

He smiles, there’s no irritation on his face at your cluelessness. If anything he seems to be more endeared to you. “You think I take all my friends on romantic picnics in the woods?”

You sigh, letting out a long disappointed breath. You can’t believe you’ve been so blind. When you think about it, his behavior lately makes a lot more sense. You’re not sure how you were able to trick yourself for so long. 

“Well,” you start, walking back towards him as he pulls you into a hug, “certainly not Scott.” He huffs and shakes his head. You give him a sheepish smile, brows knitted together. “I can’t believe we’ve been dating this whole time.”

He just presses another kiss to your temple and shrugs. “It’s alright, sweetheart, you can make it up to me by being my Valentine again next year.”

There’s something unspoken in his voice. A promise that he’s planning to be around for a lot longer than a year. You smile at him, silently promising the same. “Only if you’re mine.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

a/n: i’m gonna gag actually. Made myself cringe there at the end. I want a valentine next year so bad, it’s sad. But what’s the point of a valentine if it’s not going to be Logan?

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

[sgojoenthusiast]

slow down for me.

✧.* choso x reader.

summary: i saw this tik tok about choso being able to stay hard forever and immediately started to write lmao. choso using his technique to stay hard so he can fuck you all night long<3

c/w: fem reader, kinda dom but mainly sub choso, riding, multiple rounds, overstimulation, choso’s blood manipulation, choking, hair pulling, alludes to m!recieving oral at the end, mating press position, choso whimpering *drools*, choso’s a menace tbh.

word count: 1.3k likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

-`♡´-

“Shit, baby. Can you slow down for me?”

For the past two hours, Choso had been drilling into you and filling you up non-stop. He couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him, sucking him in like you needed him just as much as he needed you.

Choso couldn’t physically hold himself back. The minute he first entered you, he knew he’d have you in all sorts of positions before he stopped - even if it meant he was immensely overstimulated and in need of a pause. You didn’t think anything would stop him apart from the agreed upon safe word, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to wanting to stop either.

The minute he came inside of you, filling you up to the brim, he’d simply make himself hard again and continue to pound himself inside of you.

He was currently panting in your ear, and in contrast to the forceful and dominating thrusts, he couldn’t help back his whines from slipping past his lips. The noises falling into your ears made you tighten around him and bring your hands to tug on his hair in the exact way he likes it.

”C-can’t, feels, mmphh, so good-“

He had your legs over his shoulders as he pummeled into you, you could feel your mind slipping away as long as the ability to walk in the morning. Your legs were aching, yet there was nothing that could take your mind away from the mind blowing pleasure Choso was bringing you.

There was the familiar smell of sweat and sex in the air, the room was drowning in it. The air felt thick and you were consumed by the repetitive feeling of Choso hitting your sweet spot and the sound of skin slapping against skin - combined with his words and both of your moans.

You brought your hands around to caress his face, taking his cheeks in your hands and lifting his face so it was directly in front of yours.

His lips were pouted and his eyes were half-lidded with a hazed look swimming within them.

Pressing your lips to his, he let out a deep groan and as if spurred on just by your lips, his thrusts grew impossibly faster and harder. You let out a gasp, your hands reaching out for support as they grasped onto his back, nails scratching at the skin.

Your lips were parted and his head was resting against yours. Your breathing matched his as you took in every sound he made. Each whine went straight to your head and made it spin.

You could feel yourself reaching yet another orgasm as if he hadn’t pulled out enough to make you lose count already.

His hips were slowing down and losing their rhythm, indicating that he was also close to climaxing. You captured his lips in yours again, motivating him to keep going.

The two of you finished at the exact same time. Yet somehow, when you regained a stable state of mind, you could feel Choso twitching inside of you - still hard.

You were panting, still trying to regain feeling between your legs and yet he was already ready for another round. You looked at him with disbelief etched into your face yet he simply ignored it.

”One more time,” He kissed your jaw. “ Please just-“ Another kiss underneath your ear. “Just one more, I promise.” He sighed, kissing your cheek and then your neck and finally your lips.

You were exhausted, so close to your limit. But, when he begged you so nicely, how could you have said no? It would have been heartless to leave such a needy and desperate boy unsatisfied.

You pushed his chest away, causing him to flop beside you, before straddling his hips. His dick throbbed against your leg. It was hard and red, screaming to be touched yet also to be left alone.

Teasingly, you dragged your hands up his body causing Choso to close his eyes and sigh whilst also bucking his hands needily upwards.

You said his name in warning and he immediately stopped moving, yet that didn’t prevent his lips from forming a frown. It was cute though, and you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing it. However, it was never just one kiss. Choso brought his hand up to tangle into your hair as he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

You kissed him back whilst also taking his dick into your hand and pressing it into the aching spot between your legs. Without putting it in, you rubbed the tip between your folds and smirked against his lips as he whimpered at the feeling.

The two of you moaned in sync when you slipped his dick inside of you once more.

Lazily, you started to grind up against him and move your hips up and down. The more you moved, the more you needed from him. As if sensing this, Choso snaked his hand to reach in the space between both of your bodies and rubbed his finger against your clit slowly.

You couldn’t help the way your hand reached up his body to grip his neck, and he couldn’t restrain the loud moan from falling between his swollen lips.

The two of you stayed like that, with you bouncing down on his cock with your hand wrapped tightly around his throat and his own hand playing with your pussy.

The feeling was messy, a combination of overwhelming pleasure and overstimulation. Your entire body was begging you to stop, yet your unreasonable and clouded mind saw no reason to.

Not when you peered down at Choso underneath you, who’s breathing was ragged yet there was a smile on his lips and a strange look in his almost-closed eyes.

You were so close to your limit, though, and were certain you’d have to stop soon.

However you knew that, even if you did stop, the next day all it would take would be for Choso to press his aching hard on against you for you to repeat this all over again.

You continued to ride him, your tits bouncing up and down and his other hand reaching to grab at one, pulling and twisting at your nipple.

You were so close. That same feeling from multiple times tonight arising once again where the knot in your stomach was stretching and ready to snap, and the combination of Choso’s hands and his dick hitting you over and over again was enough to send you over the edge.

Collapsing against him, Choso started to thrust upwards into you as you laid against him, taking it all whilst trying to calm down.

His voice was soft and quiet as he started to speak, telling you how good you were to him and how much he loves you.

He kissed the top of your head and thrusted relentlessly up into you, sputtering out quiet moans that you may not have heard had your ear not been next to his mouth.

Moments after your own orgasm, Choso’s followed. Once again, he shot his heavy load up inside of you whilst he whined and tears began forming in his eyes. His fucked you all throughout his orgasm, not stopping until he had given you everything he had.

When he finally stopped, you took a deep sigh of relief, prepared to get up and take a bath.

Yet you stopped in your tracks when you felt his dick, hard, pressing against you. You looked up at him, and smirked.

”Don’t w’nna get up. Can you clean me up with your mouth?”

Choso knew exactly how to get to you. He had you wrapped around his finger and he knew it too well. Just like you knew that it would end up being the death of you, both his seemingly innocent looking eyes peering up at you, begging you for just one more, and that stupid technique of his.

You looked at the man who had finished inside of you many times that night with wide eyes, before shaking your head and laughing to yourself. Of course, you also moved down his body, making sure to kiss every inch, and began to suck at his tip still leaking cum, because you loved him and it was so hard to say no too.

Truthfully, you should have known better than to believe that was the end.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟsgojoenthusiast

[alltimefail]

Random thought that could could absolutely be nothing, an over-analyzation of sorts even, but I have always found it interesting that in the Devlin house episode Charles gets sucked into the loop starting from the point he snaps at Edwin about him "Not being the all-knowing expert on all things." It's especially interesting to me because after he does so, Edwin tells Charles that he's "...Not acting like himself at all."

In theory, Charles could have just reappeared when Mr. Devlin turns the corner or when he approaches Mr. Devlin here:

because if the point of repetition here is to show us that the abuse Charles suffered at the hands of his own father is what causes him to get trapped in the loop, either of those moments would have been sufficient in supporting that idea. The dialogue shared beforehand between him and Edwin has little to do with the point at hand...unless...

Charles feeling pain about his own father isn't the whole sum of why he gets trapped in the loop; his fear that he's just LIKE his father, that he's not a good person, that he's "Cruel for the shits," and capable of hurting the people he loves (and thus undeserving of their love) is also what traps him in the loop, and that's why his "loop" starts with him snapping at Edwin.

Even though we as viewers can empathize with and understand why Charles snaps at Edwin given the circumstances, it's very unlikely that Charles extends that same grace to himself. I would argue that we see the multi-faceted layers of his trauma explored in various ways from this moment on. Charles himself even later admits that all he feels is anger despite the fact that he wants to be "a good guy." Charles has yet to understand that it's possible to be good and feel anger, that anger in and of itself is not bad, and that feeling strong negative emotions like grief or anger does not make a person dangerous or abusive like his father was...nor does it guarantee that he would use his anger to harm others. So, with that in mind, of course Charles' loop would start with him lashing out at Edwin, as opposed to it just starting with him lashing out at Brandon Devlin; it's not just about feeling powerless to stop the abuse, it's about feeling like you play a role in it. It's about the deep-rooted fear that maybe you actually deserved the abuse you suffered because you are not good, and just by being related to an abuser you are damned to be just like them, or worse. Charles worries about who he truly is, deep down, and that maybe Edwin is wrong when he says that Charles isn't acting like himself: maybe the darkest parts that he works so hard to bury are actually who he truly is, and his ability to throw careless, harmful, biting words at someone he loves deeper than anyone else may be a reflection of this. After all, his father loved his mother, he loved Charles, and look what he did to them... how he hurt them beyond repair. What if he is the same?

OR: the trauma Charles deals with isn't only the violence his father enacted on him (shown through what Brandon Devlin does to his family), but it's also the violence he feels capable of enacting himself (shown through his ability to throw harsh words toward Edwin who Charles openly claims is the "most important person in the world" to him).

What furthered this idea even more for me (and added a bit of salt to the wound frankly) was Crystal and Edwin's reactions to Charles being pulled into the loop. Out of shock, confusion, and frustration Crystal immediately turns to Edwin for answers but for a moment he is just frantic and uncharacteristically frazzled, only able to say, "Charles was right, I don't know everything..." and OUCH, right? But it emphasizes that 1) what Charles said to Edwin was quite hurtful, 2) that it did have an (unintentional) impact on Edwin, and 3) that Charles himself very well might have realized it was hurtful as soon as it left his mouth thus, again, why it would make sense that his loop began there.

It takes a strong emotional reaction to be pulled into a loop; the possibly that this moment was written to work on two levels of Charles' inner turmoil is quite clever (and extremely heartbreaking).

Again, it could absolutely be nothing... but it's worth pondering!!

[pedrito-friskito]

hello my dear!! 🫶🏼

🌸🌸🌸

eddie with smut prompts 10 & 1 pls 🥵

hello my love!!!!

I apologize in advance for this (well, kinda but not really…)

patience (or a lack thereof) - eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: the horny really jumped out on this one. drug use, cockwarming, unprotected p-in-v, fingering, dirty talk, soft dom!eddie vibes (I think)

The problem here, is that weed makes you horny.

Like…really horny.

Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem. Friday nights at Eddie’s place have a pretty repetitive flavour, and it’s one you now crave. You’ve been seeing each other nearly six months now, and your friends have all given you shit for it, but you don’t care. Fridays are for Eddie.

More specifically, Fridays are for getting stoned in Eddie’s bedroom and cumming so many times you lose count. 

By now, you’d usually be between his sheets already, two or three rounds down, a quick breather in between. But tonight, something’s thrown a wrench in your usual plans. Really, it’s your own fault — you’d shown up unannounced at Eddie’s place Wednesday night, the night he usually reserved for D&D planning. Wayne had taken an extra overnight shift, leaving the place to the two of you, and well, you made the most of it.

But with Wednesday night planning out the window, Eddie has a Saturday session and nothing prepared, which you know is not a good thing.

But weed makes you horny.

You’re sprawled out on his bed, your pants long discarded, wearing only one of Eddie’s Hellfire shirts, flipping through one of his music magazines. You’ve tried reading the book you keep in your bag, tried distracting yourself by changing the records on the player, you even tried taking a quick cat nap. Nothing has worked. The ache between your legs is ridiculous.

He’s been at it a couple hours now, and you know he takes his time when it comes to D&D. He’s meticulous with his planning, thinking out every possible outcome and coming up with a contingency for each, even having a few throwaway plans just in case his players come up with something completely outrageous. You don’t mind it at all; it’s quite the opposite actually. His passion is…sexy, in a nerdy kind of way. It just adds to his charm.

And right now, it’s not helping matters. He’s perched in his desk chair, flipping through the Dungeon Master’s Guide, a pencil between his teeth. He’s wearing an old Hawkins High Phys Ed t-shirt, sweat shorts, and his hair's a mess. Unable to stop yourself, you roll off the mattress and onto your feet, crossing the room and standing behind his chair. He makes a little noise as you gather his hair in your hand, sweeping it over his shoulder so you can fit your face in the curve of his neck.

“Eds.”

“I know, baby,” he replies, the words muffled by the pencil between his teeth. “I’m almost done, I swear. Gimme like five minutes, and then I’m all yours, yeah?”

You whine, closing your lips around his pulse. You left a nice hickey there the other night, and your cloudy mind yells at you to make it bloom against his pale skin even brighter this time. Your arms hang over his shoulders, pressing your palms against his stomach, humming into his neck.

“Eddie, please?”

Your hands move lower, one glancing across the crotch of his shorts. The pencil falls out of his mouth. “Sweetheart,” he sing-songs, a halfhearted warning. But you do it again, fixated on the way his cock twitches to attention, even with just the lightest of touches. You let your teeth graze his throat, nipping at the same spot until the bruise starts to reform. Eddie tilts his head back, a low rumble moving through his chest, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. When they open again, his pupils are blown, and he lifts his hand, burying his fingers in your hair. “Someone’s needy tonight.”

“You know that weed makes me ho—”

“Weed makes your horny, I know, baby,” he finishes, dragging his nail lightly against your scalp. “I’m almost finished, I promise. Come here.”

He turns in the chair, swinging around until you’re standing between his legs. Eddie drags his hands up your thighs, the cool metal of his rings making you shiver. He’s fully hard now, shorts tented, and he hooks one thumb in the waist of your underwear, pulling it down slightly. It makes you throb.

“You can sit on my lap till I’m finished,” he says, squeezing your hips. “That make you feel better?”

Your eyes widen slightly, feeling yourself melt into his touch. “You mean…?”

“Come here,” he says again, his tone more assertive this time. He pulls your underwear down further, lifting the hem of your shirt at the same time, and swoops in, pressing a sloppy kiss to your hip. Your underwear drops to the floor and you kick the fabric away. Everything in you goes tight as he hooks his fingers in the waist of his shorts, pulling them off and settling back in his chair. The sight of his cock curving towards his belly makes your mouth fill with saliva. “You need something else first?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly. “Need me to open you up a bit, pretty girl?”

He pulls you closer, one hand back on your hip, and the other slides between your knees, moving up to the inside of your thighs. He moans when he feels out wet you are, dragging his fingers through it, pushing them past his lips a second later as he pulls your body even closer. You move quickly, lifting your legs and planting your knees on the seat either side of his hips.

Eddie grins as you lower yourself slowly, reaching around to take himself in hand, guiding his cock into your nearly dripping pussy. The feeling is overwhelming, to say the least, and you bury your face in his neck again as you sink down, your breathing coming faster as he fills you up. 

Fully seated, your first instinct is to move, rolling your hips into his, but Eddie grips your waist tightly, clucks his tongue at you. “Ah, ah, ah, not yet, sweetheart. Let me finish first, and then I’ll take care of you, alright?”

When you don’t answer right away, he lifts his hips slightly, the tip of his cock nudging at that delicious nerve inside you. “Shit.”

“Gimme five minutes, baby,” he says again. He takes your hands, draping your arms around his neck. A soft kiss is pressed to your mouth, and you have to stop yourself from chasing it, taking what he gives. “Just five minutes.”

It’s fucking torture. Five minutes feels like five hours. Every tiny movement makes the pleasure spark, but it’s just shy of not enough, leaving you wanting more and more and more. If it’s driving Eddie just as crazy, he doesn’t let it show, giving you a broad grin when you settle deeper into his lap, resting your forehead against the dip of his shoulder. 

Finally — fucking finally — he flips his notebook closed, tosses his pen aside, and puts his hands on you. He grabs your hips again, guiding you along him, and the sudden movement sets your whole body alight. You toss your head back, your mouth dropping open as he lifts you up, pulls you back down. He fills you so perfectly, leaning in to suck a mark at your collar.

“There she is,” he murmurs, dragging the tip of his nose along the underside of your jaw. “C’mon, my needy girl, tell me how bad you want it.”

Eddie slides his hands under the hem of your shirt, fingers tapping along your rib cage. Your fingers chase his, reaching for the edge of the fabric, pulling it up and over your head. You toss it away, and Eddie groans, instantly lowering his head, scraping his teeth along your tits, your nipples pebbling at his attention. Your hips roll, dragging yourself along his cock, the pleasure making your eyes roll back.

“Look at you,” he moans, sucking a bruise beside your nipple, his other hand coming up to toy with the other. “You just need to be fucked so bad, don’t you?”

“Eds, please,” you manage to mumble out, a whine trapped high in your throat. You can feel how wet you are, the slick glide of your thighs against his. He grins, pulling his face from your chest, tilting his head back so his nose pokes yours.

“Almost there,” he says, his voice goading. “Use your words. Tell me.”

“Eddie—”

“Tell me specifically,” he mutters, pinching your chin in one hand, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip, “how bad you want it.”

You start babbling. His request opens the floodgates. Your words are in time to the movement of your hips, and Eddie is grinning like the devil he is. Please, Eddie, I want it so bad, I want you so bad, fuck me please, I want it hard, want it fast, wanna feel you tomorrow. Please, please, please, please, please.

He gives you what you want.

You squeal when he scoops his hands under your thighs, lifting you as he moves out of the chair, keeping himself buried inside you. He aims for the bed, you think, but gets thrown off course, and instead you end up sprawled on the floor of his room. He hikes your legs over his hips, grabs your waist and pulls you down onto him with every thrust.

Back arching against the floor, you’re climbing higher and higher, and the weed buzzing in your veins only makes it that much more thrilling. You’re probably going to have carpet burn on your ass, but you don’t fucking care.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Eddie coos, and when your thigh starts to shake, he drops a hand between your legs, tracing his fingers over where he’s disappearing inside you before drawing a perfect circle around your clit. “Give it to me.”

You nearly shout his name as you cum, and Eddie rides you through it, his own orgasm not far behind. He pulls out at the last second, cums hot against your stomach, and flops down on the floor beside you. His hand lingers, tracing the curve of your tits, making them peak harder just for him. You curl your hand around the back of his neck, keeping him close while you catch your breath.

“You alright, baby?” he asks, dropping his jaw to kiss your shoulder, still petting his hand across your chest. “You want a pillow or something?”

You shake your head no. “Just…don’t move yet.”

Eddie chuckles, teeth nipping at your skin. “Okay, baby.”

Your body is caught between begging for more and tapping out for the night, but you think you know where the scales are about to tip. Especially if he keeps touching you like that. Your mind whirls, eyes fluttering open so you can look at him.

“Can I ask you something?” you murmur.

Eddie hums the affirmative, sitting up slightly to pull his shirt over his head. He uses it to clean his cum from your stomach and leans over you slightly, mouthing at your tits again. “Anything, baby.”

“Why didn’t you ever make a move on me before,” you ask, “when we were in high school?”

He tilts his head, lifting one brow with his lips still latched to your skin. “Why do you ask?”

“Just realizing how much mind-blowing sex I missed out on,” you reply.

Eddie chuckles. “I wanted to make a move. I really wanted to, trust me. But you had a thing for jocks back then, if I remember correctly.” He bites at you again, softly, dropping his chin to your chest. You can feel his hand roaming lower, glancing over your knees and thighs. Your legs part slightly, letting him in again, your blood spiking when his fingers trace the inside of your thigh. “It sucked, honestly. You have no idea how much I hated seeing someone else touch you, when I wanted it to be me.”

The tips of his fingers prod at you, curling just slightly. “But now you can,” you tell him, your voice turning breathy again, back arching as he pushes his fingers deeper, scrapes his teeth against your nipple.

“Now I can,” he agrees, “and I’m never gonna stop.”

[iceman-soup]

masc!reader × divorced!price

Knowing John Price from outside of the military - fuckin hell, knowing him from a toddlers' group of all places. You had both joined at roughly the same time, and being the only dads there rather than mums, you quickly stuck by each other, becoming fast friends since the first session.

Turns out, he'd had a shitty divorce a few years ago, and, well - his sweet baby girl got caught up in all the middle of it. She was a tiny baby at the time, but the legal stuff regarding her in the divorce was messy and Price barely managed to see her at all; and then her mother had been arrested for something or other (he didn't like to talk about it) and he had gained full custody, and arrangements were made for her to stay with his family whilst he was on deployment.

Your story was entirely different. The kid was technically your sister's - but she had died shortly after childbirth, and with no partner and an awful relationship with your parents, the two of you had agreed beforehand that if anything happened, you would become the baby's legal carer. But you'd called the boy yours after only a few months, and that's all you ever introduced him as now. Your son.

The toddler group wasn't great for either you nor Price, to be honest. The kids loved the playtime, which was good - but the parent "teachings" that the leader held were mostly encouraging weird outdated shit that wasn't worth listening to, let alone enforcing. Not to mention the constant repetition of how a single parent is a "bad" parent, which you scoffed at every time. Good thing about it was how you and John could sit at one of your houses after and shit talk it over a coffee.

Was he hot? Sure. Yes. Absolutely. It was the very first thing you noticed about him. But more than that you were genuinely grateful to have a friend; another single dad to lean on, to finally start talking about your sister's death and all the guilt you felt with your son. Someone who would actually get it.

Price started to come around to yours almost every day, even when the toddlers' group was only once a week. He insisted it was nicer than his flat, and the kids had more space to play anyway. You never minded. He took you over to his parents' house, introducing you to them. They were quick to befriend you and your child, mentioning how you should visit John's daughter there when he's on deployment.

Deployment. Forgot about that.

You laugh and nod, thanking them before you leave. You take your son to a play park and sit on a bench, watching him and just thinking. It doesn't take long til you realise you're thinking less about your friend being all captain-y and more about his smile you've come to adore being wiped from his face. About him coming home and there being more scars on his hands and arms than before. 'Cause you fucking counted. Realising he might not come home at all.

You go to his flat the next day, awkward small talk as the kids go off to play. He can tell something's up. He asks if it was his parents. Fucking apologises as if he did something wrong. You sit him down on the sofa, and rest your head on his shoulder.

"Dunno what to do," you start, eyes flickering shut when he combs a comforting hand through your hair. "You're such a great man, John. Dunno what I'd do if you went."

He looks at you for a moment; you can feel his gaze. Tilts your chin up with a calloused finger and brushes his lips against yours. It takes a second or two to process what's happening - and then you're kissing him again, his jacket balled up in your fists as you hold him closer, suddenly realise this is what it was all along. The hot, slightly traumatised dad had tripped you up and you fell fuckin hard.

All too quickly and you're lowering him down against the sofa, and his hands are on your back, and your tongue is prodding impatiently at his lip. Then he opens his mouth and you almost seem to melt into it, a soft groan in his throat, and you're lying on top of him, and his legs are around your waist-

"I'm not complaining," you hum between kisses, "but how is making out gonna help?"

He breaks apart. Looks at you with a sort of dog-like curiosity, mulling over the question for a second. Then his hands snake up to rest in your hair, and he smiles his signature smile. "Don't know. Just thought I wanted to kiss you. Won't fix me goin' on deployment, but-" he glances away, a flush creeping up his neck, "thought... thought you might be somethin' to come back to, y'know?"

You chuckle quietly, pressing your lips to his blush. "You askin' me out, John?" He kisses you tenderly, shuffling to sit up a little, pulling you onto his lap facing him.

"If you'll take me."

And you don't even have to think about it. "'Course I will."

[lime-bloods]

I honestly didn't ever expect that I'd be in the position where I'd be using this blog not just to analyse what has come before in Homestuck, but to look toward the comic's future and do some real old-fashioned theorycrafting. but the time has come. so here goes; lime-bloods' Beyond Canon theories as of the July 6th 2024 update:

Vriska's Going to Hell

were all gonna help you! / whether you like it or not

a select few eagle-eyed readers already noticed that the sound used in last month's (Vriska: Figure shit out yourself.) is called "hell_tierwav". while it was easy to dismiss this as irrelevant composer shenanigans at the time, it's now become clear exactly what this was foreshadowing. whether it would be more apt to call this "Hell" or "Purrgatory" is probably up for debate - but whatever you call it, Vriska's been placed in a dimension seemingly tailored specifically for her personal torment.

while Vriska characteristically interprets the recreation of her childhood home as a symbol of how badass she was, the ghosts of her past - both literal, as the shades of the trolls she killed as Mindfang, and figurative, in the form of sprites wearing the faces of her dead friends - show us in no uncertain terms that Vriska's childhood home is the stage where traumas play out.

Erisolsprite puts it succinctly with his welcome to hell, but pay close attention to what exactly we're being welcomed to: this update ends on page 665. so as of this next update, we'll be starting on page 666.

Does Homestuck Have Hell?

the exact bubble of reality Vriska's currently found herself in seems to be an entirely new construction of the likes we've not yet seen in Homestuck - but that doesn't mean this kind of cosmic torment is without precedent. because while 666 is a number with Satanic connotations in the broader cultural context, it also has a very particular meaning of its own within the world of Homestuck. indeed, the latter half of the comic almost revolves around it, culminating in a climax in Act 6 Act 6 Act 6.

specifically, this repetition of a single digit is emblematic of recursive storytelling. to summarise what you can already read about in detail in my essay The World / The Wheel: when Caliborn is 'gifted' the Act 6 Act 6 supercartridge, which he is told is an "expansion" of Homestuck, it's a trick. there is no "expansion"; he's going to be trapped in a story that never ends because it keeps dividing into smaller and smaller versions of itself forever. the only way to truly beat the devil who trapped the heroes within a story is to trap him in his own story.

that's what Caliborn's "Hell" is, and that's also exactly what the Alternate Calliope achieved in Act 7 by creating the black hole which Vriska knocked Lord English into, ending Homestuck's story - something that Calliope even hints at in this very update, when she refers to the black hole as "containment"; not an accident, but a deliberately crafted prison. black holes are a symbol of recursion and regression; being sucked into one means being forced to live out your whole life over and over again, forever. so really, this is all we ever could have expected to happen when Vriska stepped into a black hole within a black hole! the presentation of the narrative even subtly hints at this; events in Beyond Canon that take place in the black hole are enclosed (in brackets), and now events that take place in a black hole-within-a-black-hole are contained within {curly brackets}, because you should always use a different kind of brackets to differentiate nested parenthesis from each other!

it is absolutely no coincidence that when Caliborn closes the curtains on his appearances in Homestuck, thinking he's won when really he's been condemned to a hell of his own making forever more, it's with a tribute to this exact same Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff strip.

IF YOU REMEMBER JUST ONE THING I SAY, OF SO MANY GREAT THINGS SAID BY ME, THEN PLEASE REMEMBER THIS. I WANTED TO PLAY A GAME.

So What Does That Mean?

one of Beyond Canon's central missions is expanding upon Homestuck's exploration of the relationships between author, text, and audience. as discussed above, a large part of Homestuck's thesis is the evil of forcing characters to live the same lives and the same stories over and over without the chance to grow or move on, and Beyond Canon picks up on this by placing Dirk in the position of trying to keep Homestuck going forever purely to appease its fans, while the Alternate Calliope continues to oppose this ideology. and while the alpha Calliope outwardly seems not to have taken a hard position on where she stands in this cosmic battle, the question posed by her device seems to be an entirely new one: can it actually be a good thing to regress, to return to ground that the story has already covered? can this path lead to something new, rather than merely stagnation?

it's so relevant that Vriska is being confronted with the crimes of her past, not only in the form of all the trolls she was personally responsible for killing but also in the form of the exact same punishment she condemned Lord English to with her heroism - complete with the herd of horses that are always present at Caliborn's demise! but where being condemned to an eternal cycle was fitting punishment for Caliborn, someone who refuses to break free of cycles of abuse and instead chooses to enact that same abuse on the world around him... if Vriska is someone who can break free of these cycles, who can change and become a better person despite what happened to her, will this punishment have the same effect? or, as Davepeta seems to believe, is forcing Vriska to reckon with her own past and traumas exactly what will allow her to break free of that cycle?

DAVE: [...] ill just be over here in the hyper gravity chamber training to beat lord english KARKAT: WE HAVE A HYPER GRAVITY CHAMBER???

it's hard not to be struck by the parallels in design and purpose between the Plot Point and Dragon Ball's Hyperbolic Time Chamber, and not just because of the Dragon Ball enthusiasts present on Beyond Canon's writing and art teams: albeit in typically Strider-bastardised form, the Time Chamber got a shoutout in Andrew Hussie's own Homestuck (see quote above), in a reference that was even picked up on by prolific theorist bladekindeyewear at the time. for the uninitiated: the Hyperbolic Time Chamber allowed its users to train for extended stretches of time, sometimes even spanning years, while a significantly smaller time period passed in the world outside - something that is actually true of real-life black holes! and with the Plot Point's own emphasis on time, represented by the hourglass included among its mechanisms, it seems to me that an essential part of making the 16-year-old Vriska ready for the trials ahead will be giving her the time to undergo the same growth her adult friends have experienced.

considering that Beyond Canon is already playing in the Ultimate Self space, where there are levels of power beyond merely the "god tiers", it also doesn't seem too farfetched to speculate that Vriska, forced to reckon with the fact that becoming a powerful Thief of Light isn't the be-all and end-all of personal growth, will take another leaf out of Dragon Ball's book here and ascend "beyond Super Saiyan". perhaps this is even the "hell tier" so cheekily alluded to in the Plot Point flash? certainly this kind of evolution would be the perfect way to challenge Dirk's belief that the Ultimate Self is the only logical final step for a character's development.

whatever the case, I believe we can take Davepeta at their word here. I don't think it's just a joke that by the end of this ordeal Vriska Serket is going to be fucking RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPED!

[leclsrc]

wait and see ✴︎ cl16

genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst barely, other drivers appear

word count: 2.5k

The grid recounts the evolution, nature, and many ups and downs of your and Charles' vague relationship.

auds here... req'd, this was p fun to write i hope u guys like it! :) short bec if it was any longer it wouldnt have been as nice to read i think? anyway... i love u guys. title from this.

Lando takes a seat. “Is this the thingy for…? Yeah? Okay. What am I supposed to do again?”

“Just describe the two of them.”

“Easy. She was always pissing him off.” He rubs his chin, lost in thought. “But… in a good way?”

—

“I told you a hundred times I didn’t want this to be the soundbite you published.” Charles chases after you, his footsteps quickening like a lost puppy as you wrestle your way into the media pen. “A hundred times, and you said okay, and you still published it. Che succede?”

You turn, crossing your arms over your torso. “Look. I said yes, but when I looked it over, nothing else you said was really worth it. It was all just repetitions of the same PR bullshit that makes you look good on camera.”

He rakes a hand through his hair, exhaling with frustration, watching his biting comment on Iñaki rack up hundreds of thousands of views. “This was not a good idea!” He repeats, the same sentiment he’s been telling you in the half-hour he’s known of this video’s publicity.

“But it happened.” You adjust your mic and gesture to Lando, who’s awkwardly waiting for the cameras to roll so you can start the post-FP2 interview and he can talk about his shit car. “I’m busy, so deal with it. Your fans will appreciate you not riding Ferrari’s dick all the time.”

Charles opens his mouth to argue, but shuts it, shoving his way back outside and into the motorhome so he can cooperate in damage control. He doesn’t admit it—to you, to Carlos, to anyone—but the PR that comes of it is more good than it is bad in the end. He doesn’t admit it because it means admitting you’re right, and God if that’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

—

“They were always butting heads,” George says, laughing as he soaks in the memories of it. “Always fighting over something. Anything. Whatever there was that could be disagreed on—they’d be disagreeing.”

—

It started harmlessly enough. Seb walked in with two swatches of color—a blue and a purple—and addressed the room with a light tone, asking what color would best suit the tablecloths at his wedding. And then, as it always did with you and Charles, chaos ensued.

“Blue suits green better.” You wave the blue in his face. “You’re busy thinking of red all the time so you don’t understand color theory.”

“It’s not about coordination! It’s about creating a highlight!” He gestures with his hands, aggressively gesticulating to try and get his point across. “Highlight!”

“Oh, bullshit! Blue!”

“Purple!”

“Are you crazy?!”

Across the room, Seb and George watch in mild horror at the two figures caught in a needlessly intense argument over colors at a wedding that isn’t even theirs.

An AlphaTauri engineer comes in to refill his coffee for the third time, finds the two of you still fighting and is genuinely stupefied. He turns to the two onlookers, asks, “Bridezilla, huh? Happened to me once, too. I swear the grooms always try to weasel their way in to seem more involved but their choices never make sense.”

“Oh, no. They, uh, they’re not together.” George clarifies quickly.

“They’re not?!” The engineer and Seb ask at the same time.

They all watch the argument, bemused, but secretly they all wonder just how correct George is.

—

“We have a saying in Spanish. Del amor al odio hay un paso. Neither of them will understand it—it’s in Spanish, obviously—but I think that applies to them. One minute you think they hate each other, and the next…” Carlos lets himself taper into silence, smiling softly.

—

Being around Charles feels like karmic retribution, a constant eternal push and pull. But it makes the both of you better, even if neither of you admit it in the end. You can’t really grasp why, or how it started—it might take ages if you do so much as try—but you’re content with letting things happen the way they do.

Or maybe you’re not. “You ruined my fucking broadcast, dickhead!”

You toss your earpiece at his chest, body welling up with annoyance. Your segment was being casted live until Charles insisted he take up your airtime to do whatever-the-fuck, you honestly don’t care. And yeah, sure, he’s way more relevant, but the less airtime you get, the less easily you get the exposure you need.

“It happened one time.” He sounds amused, and it patronizes you, sets you on fire. He clutches your earpiece to his chest and hands it back to you.

“Fuck you.” You tug it toward yourself, and suddenly you’re closer, noses almost touching. You step back, but it’s not enough. “You have no idea how much that mattered to me.”

His eyes flit toward your lips, your bodies melting together. “If it really did…” he says, inhaling, “you would’ve just ignored me.” And damn, he’s right.

Charles does not like you. He just knows you well. But then one might argue—isn’t that the same thing?

—

“They have trouble not calling the shots, is the thing,” Lewis offers. “So put them in a team, in a room together, and boom.”

—

“…We didn’t agree on this script.” You underline the problematic lines and toss it onto Charles’ lap from where you stand in front of the sofa. “You want your fans to hate you?”

“The questions were clumsy. I asked you to reword them, but you didn’t.”

“You didn’t ask, to be clear. You demanded.” You click your tongue.

Lewis is in the middle of posting on Roscoe’s Instagram account and manually making typos, but he looks up, interest piqued by the increasingly heated conversation.

“I asked,” Charles insists stubbornly. “Plus, this is a Ferrari segment. You get hired to write on Ferrari, you follow Ferrari.” He points to the yellow logo on his shirt. Ferrari, he mouths. Lewis stifles a chuckle at the sarcastic exchange.

“Jesus.” You reread the script. “Fine. I’ll reword this and this.”

“And that.” He points, tapping the paper.

“Only if you edit this and this. Oh, God, and this.”

“Fine. Wait, that?”

“Are you serious? It’s the corniest statement ever. Edit that or I edit nothing.”

“Okay, bossy.”

Lewis exits Instagram in favor of texting Seb to ask if you two are dating. The response he receives is equally unhelpful: Nobody knows mate.

—

“You know, for all the disagreeing they did, they actually agreed on so much of the same stuff. If they stopped fighting for two seconds they would agree on most things.” Alex muses. “But they never did, so. Or maybe a few times.”

—

Media is a tricky thing. It’s either on your side, or it isn’t.

And this weekend, Charles has drawn the short straw, subjected to bouts of backhanded journalists and tweets for his strategy during quali. You know this especially well—you’re media, for Christ’s sake—and you’ve seen your colleagues hound Charles for how he chose to tackle the session.

Alex is in the middle of a FaceTime call with Lily when he hears it. “Wait—I think they’re talking,” he says to his girlfriend when he hears you approach him, carefully maneuvering himself into optimal eavesdropping position.

“Is this the right thing to do?” Lily’s voice comes through like static.

“I know it’s wrong,” Alex confesses. “But—”

“No, I meant I can’t hear properly. Move the phone closer, you dick.”

So he does, and the two of them listen intently to your talk. You go first, a few shuffling footsteps and an adjustment of your media pass, then. “Will’s been all over you today.”

“Yeah,” comes Charles’ voice, tired if anything. “I, uh… I just hope I can understand where I went wrong and, uh. Well, uh.”

“No, I…” There’s heavy silence. “I think you did the right thing. You didn’t get pole, but it was a good strategy. Better than what was being proposed, anyway. I think that would’ve landed you at the back of the grid, to be honest.”

You both laugh. “Thanks,” he croaks.

“You did great. Don’t, um… don’t let them tell you otherwise. I’m proud of you.”

Alex never tells anybody what he heard. But it inspires many long-winded conversations with Lily about the nature of your relationship. Each time, though, they never arrive to a solid answer.

—

“Hey, listen. I always knew something was there with those two. They had the kind of dynamic you only find once in, like, a million instances.” Daniel says firmly. “But I also kept thinking… poor Charlotte.”

—

You’re half-sure Pierre was the one who bought you all shots. Or a quarter-sure. Okay, you’re not sure at all. Your mind’s cloudy, your inhibitions lowered, tongue loose and laugh contagious. Around the table everyone is laughing, some others have gotten up to dance, but you, Daniel, Lewis, and Charles are all conversing about work, albeit while drunk.

“Is… tequila… plant-based?” Lewis grimaces as he throws another shot back and you all laugh mindlessly.

“Danny,” you say, tapping his shoulder. “Any plans once you’re out of the paddock next season?”

“Ah,” he hums. “Self-discovery and a shit ton of shrooms.”

You all cheers to the epiphany, shots once again entering your system. ��And a party again tomorrow!” Daniel adds half-jokingly, much to your delight. Charles, right beside you, throws an arm over your shoulder as he laughs. You’re unfazed.

Daniel’s gaze lingers on his arm a little too long, especially because your own hand reaches upward to wrap around his wrist, to make sure he doesn’t pull away. But you’re both drunk, he reasons. And plus, you can’t usually stand each other’s guts.

“I’ll pass, mate, if it happens,” Charles says, his tone clearly inebriated.

“You’re no fun,” you say lightly, laughing and turning to him. Your eyes are on the other’s, dark, lips almost touching as if you’ve forgotten Daniel and Lewis are even around (though the latter is as good as dead, honestly.)

“Invite Charlotte instead,” Daniel says with a smile, to try and test your reactions. “How long, now? Three months?”

You clear your throat, looking away with a faux smile.

“Oh. We’re not doing so well, to be honest.” Charles smiles, tight-lipped. He hopes Daniel doesn’t ask why. He can’t think of a lie quickly enough to cover how Charlotte told him I love you, Charles, but this is over. I hope you end up with her someday.

—

Seb takes some time to think about it. “Those two always fought. Everyone said that, didn’t they? All the time, disagreeing.” He hums. “I could tell very early, though, that they were also the only two who could truly understand the other. Figuratively, obviously—but as a result, also literally.”

“Elaborate?”

“When you understand someone that well, inside and out, you end up understanding everything they say.” Seb smiles. “That was them, I think.”

—

“It’s impossible to transcribe your interviews,” Will says to Charles. It’s that hour on the paddock where everyone’s waiting for the pre-race bustle to start, so small talk is what’s keeping them busy.

You’re reviewing a few clips from practice on your phone and Seb is chipping into the conversation, which has moved from Mick’s future to F1 into Sky Sports into this.

“What do you mean?” Charles asks.

“You’re always sliding in and out of your three languages!” The Englishman laughs. “I have to consult a native speaker of both Italian and French each time. And you’re always going I, I, I, or we, we, we… but hey, the fans dig it, innit?”

“I think I sound perfectly understandable.” Charles smiles. You’re still busy, unfocused on the conversation at present.

“Like, okay. Look at this.” Will retrieves his phone, opens his voice memos app, and plays one of the audio recordings there. It’s a scratchy one of Charles describing his quali session, and sure enough, even if he’s speaking straight English, the adrenaline and exhaustion have him sounding totally indecipherable.

We—we had gasjdhfhs and I, I, I… I think we need to rejshdhs and thijsjsh about the hsfhdh, yeah? And, and, uh, we ajhshajs. And

Will closes it. “Sebastian, can you tell me that said?”

He shrugs, amused. “Sorry, Charles. I genuinely can’t.”

“See?!” Will makes a voila motion. “Nobody understands this.”

“He said we had good traction and I think we need to recalibrate and think about the boxing strategy, yeah? And we need that mindset.” You’re still going over your phone, busy and not 100% invested. “You two just aren’t listening.”

Charles doesn’t take his eyes off you, or the smile off his face, the whole hour.

—

Pierre comes last, clearing his throat. He’s ready. He knows exactly what to say, so he says it. “Those two are fucking soulmates.”

—

It’s three-thirty when somebody knocks on your hotel room.

But your body still feels like it’s five in the evening, your brain’s stuck at two in the afternoon, and your sleep schedule thinks it’s nine in the morning, so you’re not asleep but instead rewriting notes from the weekend prior.

You’re horribly disoriented when you grab your pepper spray and unlatch the door, and even more disoriented when you see Charles on the other side of it.

“Am I crazy?” He asks, breathless, like he’s been waiting for you all his life. Maybe he has.

“You’re at my hotel room at three a.m., so… a bit.” You rub sleepiness and jetlag out of your eyes. “Charles, what’s going on?”

“I love you.” There it is. “It sounds so stupid. But I love you. And it’s almost—I can’t bear it. I woke up this morning? You, on my mind. Lights go off after a race? You. I go to sleep? You. It’s always you. And I know, I know it’s—I know, with Charlotte, and—but it’s true. I, I, I—I think about you every minute. And usually this happens accidentally. Nous sommes tous des idiots quand il s’agit d’amour... moi y compris.

“But this was… I knew I was falling in love and I let it happen. And so I thought, why keep waiting? Why let it drag on and on and fight over and over when I can just come and tell you how much I—and maybe, hopefully, see if you feel the same?”

He pants, tired from his clearly rambled and unplanned confession.

“I love you, too,” you say, struck. Oh God.

“Can I kiss you, then?”

“It’s may,” you breathe. “May I kiss you.”

“You may,” he whispers.

“Right now?”

“Anytime.”

“So now.”

“It’s now or next Tuesday,” he jokes.

“Now is… the best. Now would do.”

“Now would do.” So you cross the threshold and let him scoop you into his arms so he can well and truly kiss you.

—

“Is that all?” The interviewer asks Pierre. “Just… those words? We need a bit more for the article on this event.”

“Oh, yeah.” He gets up, straightens his tie. “Don’t worry. You’ll hear the rest during my best man speech.”

Del amor al odio hay un paso – From love to hate, there is one step.

Nous sommes tous des idiots quand il s'agit d'amour... moi y compris – We are all fools in love... me included.

[ladykailitha]

Paper Hearts Part 6

The sequel is coming along great I just have one more part to do and it'll be done. Sweet Home Indiana is nearing its end too.

Heads up! I will be going on vacation on Tuesday and won't be back until next week. So no WIP Wednesday this week as that is the day of my niece's graduation and I will be away from laptop all day.

I will still be uploading chapters and should be able to do WIP Wednesday next week. But if not I'll let you know.

In this we have the Corroded Coffin boys being silly and a wild Dustin appears.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

****

Eddie rolled up to band practice fashionably late as always. The other three boys were doing a sound check and making sure everything was in order.

Gareth looked up first. “Did you bring the hearts?” he asked excitedly.

Eddie held up his bag and the other boys cheered.

“So how are we going to do this?” Eddie asked flopping on the sofa after gently setting his sweetheart to the side. “Do we want to do the hearts first or practice first?”

They all look around at each for a moment.

“Let’s get the heart thing out of the way,” Jeff suggested, “get it out of the way so we can focus on practicing.”

“Sounds good to me, man,” Gareth said. “In case practice runs over or some shit.”

Eddie pulled his backpack closer and began digging through it. He pulled out the hearts that he’d put in a plastic baggie so they wouldn’t get bent in the maw that was his bag.

He tossed the bag onto the table in front of them and then dug around for his notebook. He pulled it out with a bunch of pens.

“You don’t have to,” he murmured, “but I’d recommend changing up your handwriting a couple of times so he doesn’t realize they’re from the same four people.”

“We were doing anonymous and initials, right?” Brian asked, picking up the bag and opening it up.

Eddie lit up, a huge smile on his face. “I actually had an idea about that. I was thinking of famous groups with four dudes in it and I thought it would be hilarious if we mixed it up a bit with some of those to avoid the whole repetition thing.”

Jeff licked his top lip. “Show us what you’ve got,” he said jutting out his chin.

He opened up his notebook and flipped to the right page. “Alright, so I was thinking the Three Musketeers plus D’Artagnan.”

“Who would be who?” Gareth asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Gareth is absolutely D’Artagnan,” Brian said without hesitation. “No question.”

Jeff straightened up and looked over at him in confusion. “Why’s that?”

“Because my dearest Jeffy,” Eddie said with a grin, “because he’s the youngest and not an original member. Therefore D’Artagnan.”

Gareth and Brian glanced at each. Brian shrugged and Gareth blinked a moment or two before he shrugged, too.

“Yeah, that tracks.”

“I’ll take Aramis,” Eddie said with a grin. “The smooth talker with religious trauma.”

The other boys just cackled.

“I’ll be Porthos,” Brian said. “The compulsive liar with a flare for the dramatic.”

“Why am I left with the dude with serious romantic wo–” Jeff stopped. “Right, scratch that. I’m Athos.”

They cackled again. Eddie had had some wild crushes, but it was nothing on Jeff. He even had a slightly tragic love story. He’d actually dated Vicki Carmichael before she became a popular kid and hanging out with Steve’s crowd. They had both loved metal music, but Jeff was pretty sure she stopped listening to it once she joined the cool kids.

“And I have a list of other ones too,” Eddie said breaking into the resulting silence. “The four winds from Greek mythology. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles...um...let’s see...” he looked at the notebook again. “The members of Metallica. The four horsemen of the apocalypse–”

Jeff winced. “Probably not that one, man. It’s for Valentine’s day and that kinda screams the opposite.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment and then scratched out that idea. “Fair enough.”

“The four hobbits from Lord of the Rings?” Gareth suggested.

“Yes!” Brian cried. “I get to be Samwise!”

Jeff cackled. “Gareth and Eddie are sooo Merry and Pippin!”

“Oh god! Yes! Which one is which, though?” Brian said joining in the laughter.

“I’m Merry, of course,” Eddie said proudly. “I’m the instigator and Gareth goes where I lead.”

Gareth grumped in the corner, crossing his arms and glaring at all of them. “But that makes Jeff Frodo though.”

Jeff straightened up, smug. “I could handle that.”

Eddie shook his head at his friends. “All right, also on my list are the Ghostbusters and The A-Team.”

The other boys shook their heads at either suggestion but they had a pretty good list anyway. Plus their D&D names sprinkled in here and there and they’ve got in the bag.

They spent the next half hour coming up with nice things about Steve. Eddie did have nix a couple of their ideas because they came off as stalker-esque. Which was not the look they were going for.

****

To say that Eddie got a kick out of seeing Steve light up every time he opened his locker and more pink hearts fluttered out of it was an understatement.

The goofy smile the former jock got on his face was worth every second of the time they’d spent on the project.

And it was working, too. That was the really impressive part.

Even Tommy H. was baffled.

“How the hell are you getting so many pink hearts, Harrington?” he said on Friday, just four days into Eddie’s plan.

Steve shrugged in that dorky way that made Eddie’s heart stop. “I guess people are deciding to hell with social constructs and stupid cliques and are telling me even if they don’t dare to be open about that they still like me.”

Tommy’s mouth open and closed like a goldfish then he turned around and stormed off.

Eddie lean against the lock above Steve. “Back to being king again, huh, Stevie?”

“Not really,” he said, closing his locker and standing up. “Most of them are anonymous or fake names. But there are a few that real names.”

“You think someone is stuffing the ballot box as it were?” Eddie asked, worried the jig was up.

Steve shook his head. “At least I don’t think so. But it’s sad that they think they have to hide who they are to tell me that they still think I’m a cool dude or whatever.”

“For what it’s worth,” Eddie said, pushing off from the locker, “I think you’re a pretty cool dude.”

Steve blushed and mumbled his thanks.

God, did Eddie just want to bite those flushed cheeks. They were just too cute.

“It’s worth a lot, actually,” Steve whispered. He stood up and shouldered his backpack. “Catch you later, Eds.”

Shit that little nickname had Eddie’s heart doing overtime.

****

Steve was outside the middle school waiting for Dustin to come out. His mom had asked Steve to pick him because she had to stay after hours at work for a meeting.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he hummed to the music in his head. He could have turned on the radio but Dustin hated his music didn’t like him blaring it for the whole school to hear.

His eyes kept flicking to the rearview mirror to see his backpack on the backseat. He wanted to go over the ones he got today. There had been some really good ones. Ones that melted his insides and turned them to goo.

He bit his lip and checked the mirror again. He looked at his watch and he still had a couple minutes until the bell rang.

Steve whirled around and grabbed the bag. He ripped it open and pulled out his trapper keeper. Tucked in the front pocket were the hearts. He ran his fingers over the outline the hearts made on the plastic pocket.

He pulled out the hearts and read over each one. Tracing the names of the givers, thinking about each name and wondering where they were from.

There was a thump on his window startling him. He looked up to see Dustin making faces at him through the glass.

Steve shook his head and unlocked the passenger door to let the twerp in.

“Looking at pink hearts, Steve?” Dustin asked with the shake of his head. “So pathetic.”

Steve rolled his eyes and tried to put the hearts back in the folder, but Dustin snatched them from him and wouldn’t let him take them back.

“Come on, man!” Steve whined. “They’re none of your business.”

“I want to see which girls are giving the Steve Harrington Valentine’s hearts,” Dustin said, wagging his eyebrows.

“Dude, give it up,” he growled. “The pink hearts are friendship hearts, the red ones are the romantic ones. So give it back.”

The younger teen cocked his head to the side and said, “No.”

Steve folded his arms and glared at him.

“Aren’t you going to take me home?” Dustin asked after they sat in silence for a minute or two.

“Not until you give them back.”

Dustin just shrugged. “It’s your funeral if we get home after my mom does.”

Steve threw his arms in the air, but turned the engine and started the car toward the Hendersons.

“These are actually really sweet, Steve,” Dustin said after a couple of minutes. “I like the idea of friendship hearts. That way you don’t accidentally send the wrong message.”

Steve just shrugged.

“You do know that some of these are fake names, right?”

Steve rolled his eyes and dared to look over at him. “Yes, of course I do. I am familiar with D’Artagnan after you named a fucking demodog after him, thanks.”

Dustin cocked his head to the side and then shrugged. “That’s fair. What you probably don’t know is that Aramis, Porthos, and Athos are the names of the Three Musketeers.”

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “That’s cool.” They hit a stop sign and Steve looked over and pulled out one. “What about this one? Tommy H. thinks it’s short for Kassie, but none of the girls at our school spell it like that.”

Dustin took the heart and looked at it. “Kas. Kas. Yeah, okay. That does sound familiar. Can I get back to you on that one?”

“Sure thing, bud.”

Steve pulled up to curb to let Dustin out. “You got your key? If you don’t, you can hang out with me until your mom gets home.”

Dustin began rummaging around in his bag and Steve snatched the hearts away before he could bend them.

The kid pulled out his keys with a triumphant, “Eureka!”

Steve shook his head. “You are such a dweeb. Go on, get.”

“Bye, Steve!”

“Next time say thank you, asshole!” Steve called out the window.

Dustin turned around and gave him the double middle finger.

Steve shook his head and drove off. Why he loved that kid, he had no idea.

When he got home he pulled out the little notebook and placed the pink hearts in with the rest. All but the one from Kas. Those he kept in his wallet. He really couldn’t place why. There was just something about what they said that made him feel warm and not in the fuzzy friendship way that the others did.

There was the first one:

-Stevie I like the way you’re kind even when it doesn’t benefit you. Kas

Which Steve loved but the others were just as sweet.

-Stevie You have a great laugh, you don’t have to hide it. Kas

-Stevie That shirt today really brings out the color in your eyes. Kas

And Steve’s personal favorite:

-Stevie Each day is brighter because you’re in it. Kas

There was one for each day he got hearts in his locker so he assumed it was all the same person.

He slid it next to the other three hearts in the billfold portion of his wallet and put the wallet next to his keys on his desk. Then he put the little notebook back, careful to make sure it was well hidden.

He wasn’t sure what his dad would do about the mementos but Steve really didn’t want to find out.

He was really going to miss getting the hearts over the weekend. They really had become the highlight of his day.

He sighed and buckled down to work on his homework. It wasn’t as though he had anything better to do with his time. He wasn’t invited to any parties, he didn’t have friends to hang out with, and the people who would hang with him were fourteen year olds and they all had bedtimes.

He briefly thought about calling Eddie, but the guy had friends, unlike Steve and was probably doing something with them. Probably that nerd game that Eddie had a club for.

He buried his head in his hands.

Steve sighed. Fuck his life was depressing as shit.

With another sigh, he resigned himself to another lonely weekend.

****

Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: CLOSED

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @slv-333 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi

@val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @vecnuthy

@irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee

@awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76

@scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @fullpoetrybread

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@ravenfrog @dauntlessdiva @thelittleclare @steddieyourself @dam28lh

[thefallennightmare]

One Night-two

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: lots of smut(mask play, spit play, bondage, anal, fingering, oral(m/f receiving), chocking, unprotected sex), swearing, angst, fluff.

Summary: One night. That's what Noah and Reader agreed to. No questions, no second thoughts, and no regrets. But will one night be enough to fill the hunger they both craved?

Authors Note: This took me three days to write(busy life) so I apologize if some things are repetitive. This is almost 10,000 words so buckle up. Maybe there will be a part three if a lot of people want it.

Tags: @pluviophillics @catj422 @iknownothingpeople @yumikitten @circle-with-me @dsireland86 @a1ex-ba1ex @blackveilomens @iamdesolate @shaydayhere @tearfallpixie @nerdraging4point0 @laris-angels

The door opened and in walked, Jolly, Nick, Folio, then followed by Britt whose hand intertwined with Folio’s. She had a smile on her face until her eyes fell on my flushed face. I did my best to smooth down my shirt and hair, not wanting any of them to realize what they nearly walked in on. Britt, however, with the way her brow raised and the corner of her mouth curled, I knew she had an inkling of an idea.

“What have the two of you been up to?” Britt asked.

Her and Folio sat on the couch opposite of us with Jolly and Nick sat next to me, who was sitting a few inches from Noah.

“Nothing, just talking,” I said.

“Right,” she nodded with the same smile on her lips.

Noah leaned back into the couch with his arm across the back, his fingers so close to my shoulder. I could feel the heat radiating off of him and I could almost smell my arousal on his fingers still. I ran my hands over my thighs with nerves until I hear Noah sigh beside me.

“What?” I asked, my eyes landing on his face.

A face that gave away nothing of what we did. Or what we talked about seconds before everyone walked in.

“Why are you nervous?” He asked.

“I wonder why,” I muttered before turning my attention back towards Britt.

She was watching Noah and I intently however before she could question what we were doing again, Jolly looked at his phone before motioning to the guys.

“We should get ready. It’s almost time for us to go on.”

They all stood, Noah’s fingers grazing over the back of my neck, and as they all moved about the room getting ready, Britt was fast at my side. Her eyes dragged over every inch of my face then crossed her arms over her chest.

“What did he do?” She asked.

“Huh?”

I did my best to play dumb.

“When we came in, you were jumping onto the couch while trying to fix your hair and your cheeks are still red,” she said.

My hands went to my cheeks, and I cursed when I felt how warm they were.

“Plus,” she said again. “Your zipper is down.”

“Shit,” I pulled up my zipper and leaned back onto the couch with a groan.

Britt leaned in closer so no one else could hear. “Did you two hook up?”

“No,” I shook my head. “Well, not exactly.”

“Not exactly?” Britt wondered.

I let out a deep breath. “Jacob called me from someone else’s phone and I said some things in front of Noah that made him-.”

My voice trailed off, suddenly embarrassed to say what happened. Britt urged me on with a shake of her hand. I looked to my left, noticing the guys being preoccupied with getting ready for their set, and turned back to her.

“It was brought up that Jacob never made me orgasm so Noah wanted to make me while on the phone with Jacob,” I admitted, playing with a loose strand from the ripped hole of my jeans.

She gasped. “Shut up!”

Her voice rang throughout the room, and I quickly hushed her while looking back to the guys. Noah gave me a look, and my heart flipped at the sight of him in a black cargo pants, black jacket, with his blank tank top underneath. He looked so fucking good and I wanted nothing more than to walk into his arms accepting his offer.

“I can’t believe you and Noah,” Britt said with a small chuckle.

“If I’m being honest, I can’t believe it either. There was something about him from the second I walked in here. I wanted to forget everything for a few minutes,” I admitted.

She patted my knee. “Noah is a great guy, Y/N. And from the way he keeps stealing glances at you, I’d say he’s interested as much as you are.”

As much as I wanted too, I didn’t peak over my shoulder. Besides, I could feel Noah’s eyes burning into my back. It was setting my skin ablaze remembering his fingers inside of me and his lips on my skin.

“Really?” I asked with a small smile playing at my lips.

Britt nodded.

I thought about telling her about the proposition Noah offered but decided against it, only because I wasn’t sure on what I was going to do.

“You guys ready?” Nick asked.

Britt and I both nodded.

“You two can hang out on the side of the stage to watch.”

While Folio and Britt chatted, I stood from the couch to give them some privacy. There was a warm presence behind me and as I turned on my feet, my breath hitched at the sight of Noah. He had pulled a black ski mask over his face and core warmed with desire. I didn’t doubt that my panties were wet because of this.

There was a list of kinks I was in to but this, a man wearing a mask, was a new one.

“So, did you think more of my idea?” Noah asked.

“Um, kind of. I still have a few questions.”

Even underneath the mask, I knew he raised a brow. “Which are?”

I licked my lips. “Where would we do this? Just because I’m considering spending the night with you, doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with you in my apartment.”

He let out a low laugh. “We’re staying in a hotel tonight. We can spend it in my room.

I nodded, the answer to my first question settling my nerves a tad. As I tried to ask my next one, I found myself distracted by the vision in front of me that was Noah. He was dressed in his full concert gear and I thought of him naked only wearing the mask tonight.

“Do you like the mask, Y/N?”

His voice was low and husky, filled with his own desire, and I clenched my thighs together hoping it would scratch the itch in my core momentarily. Before I could stop myself, I was nodding with my bottom lip caught between my teeth.

Noah leaned forward, his warm breath cascading over my ear.

“I could wear it tonight, if you’re a good girl.”

A soft moan fell from my lips which made his eyes darken. Our gazes locked and the longer we watched on another, the thicker the sexual tension built between us.

“What’s your next question?” He asked.

I blinked, remembering what we were talking about.

“Uh-,” I stuttered. “Is there anything off limits tonight?”

Even though I loved the way he looked underneath the mask, I wished he would take it off for these next few questions. I needed to see his face when he reacted to them.

“You’ll have to be more specific, angel.” His finger hooked into the black chocker around my neck.

Fuck.

I don’t think I’ll ever respond like a normal girl whenever he would call me that.

There was no one else around us but I still kept my voice quiet.

“I’m into some things that others might think is weird. With sex.”

Noah hummed. “You’re not the only one.”

A blush crept over my cheeks as excitement filled me.

There was only two more questions I had left to ask, both of which were extremely important. His answers would be the deciding factor if I agreed to this or not.

“If I feel uncomfortable or want to stop, would you?” I asked.

“The second you ask me to, I will,” Noah answered without missing a beat. “Would it make you feel better if we had a safe word?”

My brows raised. “How far are we going to go that we need a safe word?”

Noah sighed while wrapping his arms around my back, pulling me into his embrace. My breath quickened as I looked at the others. Except, we were the only ones in the room again. We were so engrossed in each other that neither of us noticed everyone had left.

“Angel,” Noah gripped my chin, forcing me to look into his brown eyes underneath the mask. “I keep thinking about all the things I get to do to you tonight if you say yes.”

I whimpered, actually fucking whimpered. The only thing Noah has done to me tonight, besides making my heart skip a beat every time he’s near or talking to me, he made me fall apart on his fingers. And that orgasm was mind-blowing, the best I had. Granted ninety-eight percent of orgasms I had were self brought. What else did he have in store for me?

It scared me but turned me on just as much.

“What would the safe word be?”

Noah thought about it for a few seconds before giving my hips a light squeeze. “Mercy.”

“Okay,” I agreed with a nod.

The nerves about tonight were slowly fading, excitement being all I felt.

“One last question. Well, more of an agreement.”

When Noah urged me on with a nod, I took a deep breath.

“Can we agree no feelings are to come out of this tonight? I just got out of a long relationship, the last thing I need is another one, especially with someone who is on the road a lot.”

It was true. The last thing I needed was another relationship after the disaster of one that ended a few days ago. Even if Noah looked like an alternative Greek god covered in tattoos with such a filthy mouth.

“I’m not going to force you into anything, Y/N,” he reassured me.

Alright, that was pretty easy.

“Okay,” I said after a few beats of silence.

I was still in his embrace and sprawled my hands over his chest. His heart beat rapidly underneath my touch.

“Is that a yes?” Noah wondered.

My lips parted to give my answer but rapid knocking on the doorframe caused us to break apart, Jolly staring between us for a few moments.

“You ready?” He asked Noah.

Noah’s eyes darted from me to Jolly while nodding. “Yeah, sorry. I’m coming.”

Jolly turned his attention towards me. “Britt is already waiting on side stage.”

“Side stage? We’re not watching in the crowd?” I asked.

“The crowd can get kind of crazy. Plus, you’ll be able to watch better from side stage,” he said.

Noah’s hand slipped into mine giving it a squeeze then let my hand drop to the side, something I returned without a second thought. A silent answer to his question.

He pulled the hood over his eyes, not before giving me a quick wink, and all I saw peaking out from underneath it was his pink, full lips that I so desperately wanted to taste.

I was wrong.

So fucking wrong.

I thought hearing Noah talk was heaven but hearing him sing then scream his lyrics sounded like heaven.

All four of them had an amazing stage presence that made you dang on your feet and headband along with them. I watched mesmerized not only at Noah but all four of them. I did not expect that voice and those screams to come out of Noah. He continued surprise me and Britt noticed because she kept elbowing my side every time he would look over to side stage, making sure I was still there.

I never gave him a physical answer, so he probably thought I would leave.

That was the plan once morning came. I would leave him, most likely never seeing him again. But after watching him perform in front of a sold-out crowd, I knew it would be painful to do so.

Their fourth song just finished and Noah had lost the ski mask and jacket, leaving him in his blank tank and cargo pants. The way he danced along the stage brought a small smile to my lips. Now an instrumental tune of their next song played while all four of them made their way over towards us for a quick break. I had an unopened bottle of water in my hand and I extended it towards Noah when he stopped in front of me. He took it with a smile of thanks and took two very large gulps.

“Having fun?” Noah asked

I nodded with a huge smile. “I’m glad I stayed.

“So am I.” His eyes twinkled under the stage lights before he leaned in closer to my ear, warm breath on the side of my face. “I can still taste your cum on my lips.”

Noah was gone, back on stage performing, before I could react. My panties were soaked and desire burned hot in my belly. All night, Noah kept me turned on even giving me one orgasm, but I needed more. I needed Noah so damn bad.

I was so fucked.

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride back home? I have no problem dropping you off,” Britt crossed her arms over her chest to keep some warmth.

We were standing outside the back of the venue, waiting for the guys to exit. The show ended a bit ago and we let the guys pack up their things and talk just the two of us outside. The rest of the show was amazing, the way all four of them came alive on stage was almost envious. I was an author, writing my first novel, and while I absolutely loved being able to stay home and do that, something about the artist life made my entire body giddy with excitement.

Britt was going back to her place with Folio and kept reassuring me she could drop me off home beforehand. I kept declining, saying that I can call an Uber. To be honest, I didn’t want to tell her about my decision to spend the night with Noah. I knew she wouldn’t judge me but I wanted the night to happen before I told her about it.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. Enjoy the time you have with Folio,” I waggled my eyebrows at her.

Her cheeks flushed with heat as she looked down at her feet for a few beats before she gave me a slight shove.

“I could say the same thing about you and Noah. Don’t act like I didn’t notice the looks you two were giving each other tonight. He looked directly at you when he sang the way you fuck, the way you taste.”

Now my cheeks flushed as I remembered it. Thank god Britt was the only one that noticed it. Noah had a lot of fans and if any of them noticed him singing those lyrics to me, some wouldn’t be too happy.

“It’s nothing,” I said with a wave of my hand.

Britt scoffed. “Right. Well whatever happens tonight, be protected.”

Now I scoffed. “You too.”

We talked for a few more minutes until Folio and Noah walked over towards us, dressed into different clothes. My heart flipped when I saw Noah wearing a pair of sweat shorts and a black hoodie, the tattoo’s on his thighs on full display.

Was he covered in them?

I couldn’t wait to find out.

“Ready?” Folio asked Britt.

She nodded while lacing fingers with him then looked back to me. “Are you sure you don’t need a ride?”

Noah wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his chest, which surprised me.

“I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”

Britt winked. “I’m sure you will, Noah.”

“What time does the bus leave tomorrow?” Folio asked Noah.

“Eight.”

As they did the typical man hug handshake, Britt gave me a quick hug.

“Bye-.”

“Nope!” I held up a hand. “You know I fucking hate that word.”

The guys looked at me with confused eyes.

“Anytime someone leaves that I plan on seeing again, I refuse to say goodbye. To me, it’s always see you later,” I explained.

Some thought of my reasoning as stupid but I had good reason to think like that. The last time I said goodbye to someone, they were ripped away from me in a car accident.

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” Britt asked.

I nodded and gave her and Folio a wave, Noah’s arm back around my shoulders now. It was a chilly night but the warmth that emanated from him kept me just as warm as a jacket would.

“You never gave me an answer,” he said while pulling me into his chest.

I looked up at him under my lashes. “I think me staying here waiting for you was answer enough.”

A mischievous smile spread across his face before he began leading me away from the bus and venue. He must have seen the confused look on my face because he nodded in front of us.

“The hotel is right around the block. I figured we could walk there.”

“Aren’t you worried about fans following you?” I asked.

He shrugged with his shoulder that I wasn’t tucked underneath.

“Most of them have left. The ones that are waiting around are hanging out on the other end of the parking lot. They won’t see us,” he reassured me.

After I nodded, silence fell around us but I didn’t mind. Something about Noah brought a sense of calm that I didn’t find with anyone else. It should scare me that I only knew this man for a few hours but I would still let him to anything to my body tonight.

We turned a corner, and the hotel came into view. It was late, nearly midnight, so there weren’t many people in the lobby as we entered.

Seven hours.

That’s all we had left together, and I wondered if it would be too much time.

“Are you hungry?” Noah asked as we stopped in front of the elevator.

I tried not to frown when his arm fell from my shoulder.

“I’m okay.” I said.

Quickly the doors opened and Noah let me step inside the elevator first with him following close behind. We stood so close, Noah behind me, that I’m sure he could hear how fast and shallow my breathing had become. Now that we were heading to his hotel room, it was suddenly set in what was going to happen tonight.

His large, tattooed arms wrapped around me from behind as Noah buried his face into my neck, breathing me in. I rested my head against his shoulder and let my eyes fluttered shut. It was incredible how his touch had calmed my nerves.

“Last chance to say no,” he said.

I shook my head. “I need this.”

Noah hummed into my skin, his lips pressing soft kisses up behind my ear and I shuddered in delight in his embrace.

“Promise me something?”

“Depends on what it is,” I semi joked.

There was no way I would promise something important like my life or soul to him.

“Promise after tonight you won’t go back to that asshole,” Noah breathed.

In the way his words sounded, I knew that if that happened, it would bother him. Maybe even hurt him.

“As long as you don’t go back to whoever cheated on you,” I shot back quietly.

Jolly mentioned it earlier in the night but Noah never spoke of what happened.

“Trust me, that won’t happen.”

I turned in his embrace and wrapped my hands around his neck, my fingers running through the ends of his hair.

“I have one rule for tonight,” I started.

“Besides not catching feelings?” Noah said with a slightly crooked smile.

“Fine,” I sighed defeated. “I have two rules. No feelings and I think in order to help that rule, we shouldn’t kiss tonight.”

Noah’s face fell only for a second before a neutral expression plastered over his face yet again.

“Alright. No feelings and no kissing. But remember what I said, no second thoughts and no regrets.”

The doors opened behind us and without turning me around, Noah walked us towards his room which seemed to be only a few doors down from the elevator. I heard the click of the door behind me and soon; we stood in the darkness of his hotel room. The silence that enveloped us was deafening. There was a golden glow brushing across Noah’s face from the streetlamp outside and my breath hitched at how beautiful he was.

“Nervous?” His voice was quiet.

“No,” I hoped my voice didn’t waver.

“Then why are you rubbing your hands on your thighs?” He dipped his gaze to my hands.

Fuck, he was perceptive.

I quickly clasped my hands together and began bouncing on the soles of my feet.

“You need to relax, Y/N. I’m not going to hurt you,” Noah muttered while closing me in against the wall next to the door. “Unless, you want me too.”

Oh shit.

I swallowed before the words stuttered from my lips. “Ye-yes.”

Noah cocked his head to the side, something glinting in his eyes. “Do you remember the safe word?”

I nodded, voice quiet.

“Good,” his traced a finger down my neck and over my collarbone.

His touch set my skin ablaze and my eyes fluttered shut enjoying the way his strong hands gently wrapped around my throat. The pad of his thumb pressed against my pulse point and the new sensation made my heart race.

My sex life with Jacob was as mediocre as you would think. Missionary majority of the time with the occasional fuck from behind. Nothing different and we never explored our kinks. However, with the way Noah’s hand was around my throat I knew that tonight would be nothing like I’d experience before.

“Lay on the coffee table,” he ordered, voice turning dark.

I blinked rapidly, mouth suddenly dry. “What?”

“Strip out of your shit and jeans then lay on the coffee table,” Noah repeated.

My fingers shook as I pulled my shirt up and over, letting it fall to the floor. My bra wasn’t anything special, a simply black cotton one, but that didn’t stop Noah’s eyes from drinking in the sight. When I slowly stepped out of my jeans, those falling on top of my shirt, in the darkness I could see his pupils dilate, the whites almost not noticeable.

“Fuck, angel,” he licked his lips while hooking a finger into the strap of my red lace panties. “You look delicious in red and I can’t wait to taste you.”

My pussy clenched at his words and I swore he could smell my arousal when I saw his nostrils flare slightly.

“Lay on the coffee table,” he ordered again.

I shuffled my feet over towards the small living area of his hotel room and realizing there was nothing on there; I sat on the edge. It was a sturdy table, so I felt somewhat safe that it wouldn’t collapse on me with whatever Noah had planned.

He stood in front of me, and I looked up at him through my thick lashes. His hips were meters from my face and through the fabric of his shorts, I could make out the hardness of his cock. My mouth watered at the sight. I was only in my bra and panties but that sight was enough to make him hard.

“Lay back, angel.”

Noah gently laid me back onto the table so my upper body was sprawled against it while my hips hung off the edge and feet planted on the ground. He sat on the floor with his back against the couch so his face was in front of my clenched knees. With soft hands, Noah spread my legs wide, hunger clouding his eyes and slid my panties down my legs. I half expected him to toss them over towards my other clothes but he set them down next to him.

“Keep them spread,” he tapped the inside of my knee.

I spread my legs once again and this time, Noah groaned at the sight.

“Beautiful.”

I whimpered, not wanting to wait any longer. I could feel my arousal drip down my legs and we haven’t started yet; well besides what we did in the green room of the venue.

My hips jerked when I felt a warm wet tongue glide over my folds.

“Shit,” I moaned.

This experience was new for me so I feared I would be a bit more jumpy than normal. Hopefully Noah wouldn’t notice.

With his hands gripping my thighs apart, Noah’s tongue flicked over my clit before forcing it between my folds now and we both groaned my back arching off the table as I subconsciously jumped away from him.

“Someone’s jumpy,” he breathed against my core.

I chewed on my bottom lip while staring up at the white ceiling. “I, uh. This is a first for me.”

Noah’s head snapped up from between my legs, a look of shock on his face. “You’re lying.”

Now I was looking at him with a sheepish expression. “No. Jacob never liked the idea of going down on me.”

“Let me guess, he had no problem with you going down on him thought?” He scoffed after his question.

My silence was answer enough.

Now that I was actually talking out loud about things from my relationship with Jacob, I realized how disgusting of a man he was and I deserved so much better.

“I’ll take care of you, angel. After tonight, no one will compete.”

I did not doubt that.

Noah’s tongue was back between my folds, lapping up before circling my clit. He repeated the motion a few times and my breath was coming out short and fast.

Fuck, it felt so good. There was no way it could get better than this.

My hand itched with the need to run through Noah’s hair and it was as if he read my mind because he guided my hand into his hair.

“Pull as hard as you want. I can take it,” he mumbled before going back to fucking my pussy with his tongue.

I was wrong; it could get better.

My hips began to grind against his face, the coil in my stomach heating the growing orgasm. Every muscle in my body tensed as warmth spread at the base of my spine. His name was on the tip of my tongue as his finished faking me then slide up my entire center. When I felt his teeth graze my clit, I let out a guttural groan while yanking on his hair.

Noah’s licks turned into small bites then he was sucking on my clit as he slid one finger into me, slowly pumping it in and out.

“Oh, fuck Noah. Just like that. Don’t stop,” I panted.

One hand was in his dark locks while the other was grasping the edge of the table to keep me grounded.

A white haze danced at the edge of my vision and now the heat spread underneath my skin as it prickled with electricity. My orgasm was so close and Noah could tell because he went back to licking my now swollen clit while his fingers continued to fuck me.

His name fell from my lips like a chant as I finally came, a scream echoing in the room, and Noah licked me through every aftershock until I was a writhing mess on the table.

“Shit,” I breathed.

Noah finally pulled away then got up onto his knees while leaning over the table. He was taller than me so even on his knee’s and me on the table; he loomed over me.

“Open,” his lips barley parted as he gripped my chin.

I obeyed and nearly crumbled in another orgasm when he spit my arousal in my mouth; it had a tangy sweetness to it. The whole action was downright disgusting, and I fucking loved it.

“You taste so good, angel. I could eat you for the rest of my life,” Noah mused.

My chest rose and fell with every deep breath as I finally came down and he helped me to my feet.

“Good?”

I nodded with a dazed smile. “So good.”

Noah brushed some hair out of my face, serious eyes locking with mine. “Am I going to be giving you a lot of firsts tonight?”

“I’m not a virgin so don’t worry about that.”

My voice had a slight edge to it and didn’t know why. He was only wondering there was no need to snap at him. But that didn’t stop me from walking past him, well trying to anyway.

Noah gently grasped my elbow. “I don’t care if I am going to be giving you a lot of firsts tonight, Y/N. I only want to make sure you’re okay with it. I don’t do gentle sex.”

My pussy clenched as it remembered how hard he had bit and sucked just moments ago.

I let out a long breath and nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” he nodded towards the bed. “Take off your bra and lay on the bed.”

“I don’t see how it’s fair that I’m about to be naked while you’re still wearing your clothes,” I jeered at him while pulling at the end of his hoodie.

Noah chuckled, and my heart fluttered at the sound.

“Patience, angel. I have six hours and thirty-four minutes with you. I’m going to take advantage of that.”

The room filled with my squeal of laughter as Noah gently tossed me onto the bed, my body bouncing slightly.

“Give me five minutes. When I come out of the bathroom, I want you naked and sprawled out for me, understand?” Noah spoke from the foot of the bed. “Keep this on.”

He pointed to the choker on my neck.

Eagerly, I nodded then watched as he rummaged around his suitcase for something before slipping to the bathroom. Not wanting to waste anymore time, I threw my bra across the room and did my best to get comfortable on the bed despite my nerves. I changed my position on the bed a few times, each time shaking my head at how stupid I must have looked. There was no need to look sexy for Noah. If he wasn’t even a bit attracted to me, we wouldn’t be here.

Eventually I decided on simply laying on the bed while being propped up on my elbows. I let my hair fall across my shoulders and the cool air of the room caused my nipples to perk into hard buds. I also turned on the lamp on the end table, that way we could see each other better.

Not even five minutes later, Noah stepped out of the bathroom and I squeaked out a moan at the sight. He wore a pair of black briefs that were tight, thanks to the hard cock that was pressing against the fabric for release and in one of his hands he was holding onto a black belt.

But that didn’t have my attention. Neither did the many of the tattoos that colored almost every inch of his skin. It was the black sky mask he wore, his dark eyes pinning me into place on the bed. Noah began slowly stalking towards the bed the exact moment I sat up straighter, my senses on high alert. When he reached the edge of the bed, his hands circled around my ankle before dragging me over to him.

My flight or fight kicked in and I writhed against his hold which made him grab my wrists with his free hand and pin them above my head as he leaned over me.

“Remember the safe word?” Noah questioned.

All I could do was nod. Even though my heart was hammering against my chest, I was excited to find out what he had planned. There was no way I would utter our safe word.

“Good girl,” he mused. “Now, on your knees.”

I didn’t even have a second to react to the praise before Noah pulled me off the bed and down onto my knees. He wasn’t in front of me for long because he walked behind me and yanked my hands to my back. I hissed out in slight pain when the leather of the belt dug into my skin as Noah tied my wrists together. Once satisfied with the tightness of them and wasn’t worried I could slip out, he was back in front of me and yanked my head up to look at him. The pain that burned at the base of my skull felt so good.

“You look so fucking perfect on your knees for me,” Noah breathed from underneath his mask.

I licked my lips as his grip left my hair to pull down his briefs, too slow in my opinion. I almost whined in protest.

Noah clicked his tongue on his teeth. “Someone is impatient.”

“Please,” I begged.

He cocked his head to the side and the sight of him like this made my mouth run dry; mask covering his face, tattoo’s glistening in the moonlight that broke through into the room, and briefs halfway down his hips. The base of his cock was the only part visible and from what I saw, the thickness of it, told me I was not ready.

“What do you want, angel?” Noah asked while cupping my cheek.

I kept my gaze on his half shown cock, hoping that would give him an answer.

“Eyes on me!”

They snapped up at him with his demands and I clenched my legs together hoping it would ease the need I felt between my legs.

“Use your words, Y/N. What. Do. You. Want?” Noah slapped my cheek with each word, not too hard but firm enough to leave a bit of a sting behind each slap.

How was it that this man who barley knew me somehow knew some kinks I was into?

“I want your cock,” I whispered.

Noah hummed in approval, and soon I was rewarded with the full sight of his thick cock. The beads of pre-cum dripped out of the slit on the head of his cock and I licked my lips before I realize what I was doing.

“You want a taste?” He wondered.

I nodded, pleading with a small moan.

Noah sat on the edge of the bed then positioned me in between his legs. His large tattooed hand wrapped around his cock and slowly stroked it, his thumb teasing the head and smeared the pre-cum all over it. He groaned while his hips bucked into his hand.

“Open.”

His thumb brushed over my lips and I tasted the sweetness of his pre-cum as I wrapped my mouth around him. I sucked his thumb like it was my last meal, savoring the way he lingered on my tongue. Noah gritted his teeth as he groaned and hastily removed his thumb. His cock was thick and angry, begging to be sucked like I just had done to his thumb.

“Ready?” His voice and eyes were blown with lust and my stomach felt fuzzy inside.

“Fuck yes,” I breathed and opened my mouth wide.

While Jacob was the only man I had sex with, I had given head a once or twice before him so atleast with this; I had some experience. And Noah, by far, had the prettiest cock I’d ever seen.

My tongue glided over the bottom of his shaft as he slipped past my lips and when his head hit the back of my throat, I gagged only a little. His length wasn't something I wasn’t used too, but it didn’t deter me from swallowing every inch of him. I wanted to grab what I couldn’t in my hand but they were still tied behind my back so I bobbed my head up and down while swirling my tongue around the head.

“Fuck, angel. So good.” Noah croaked, his hands pulling at my hair.

He was guiding my head up and down before holding my head down when I took him in deep into my throat and gagging a bit on the thickness.

“Yes, take the whole fucking thing. Gag on it.”

I was slick in between my legs, my arousal coating me as my pussy begged to be touched, so all I could do was squeeze my legs together. I dared a glance up at Noah between my lashes and nearly came at the sight. Noah’s head fell back, lips parted underneath the black ski mask and the muscles in his tattooed stomach clenched as he his orgasm built. I could tell in the way his cock twitched in my mouth.

He looked so fucking breathtaking and moan vibrated against him from my throat which made Noah shiver underneath me, his grip on my hair tightened. Tears brimmed at the corners of my eyes but they were good tears and drool dribbled down my chin, jaw aching, but I refused to stop and complain. I wanted Noah to come apart from my mouth and tongue.

“You’re going to be a good girl and swallow all of it.”

I nodded, mouth full of his cock, and felt it pulse inside before a guttural groan erupted from Noah. His warm cum filled my mouth, and I eagerly swallowed every drop. It tasted so fucking good.

Noah, who had taken off of the mask, lifted me off of him with a pop then began massaging my jaw. “You did good, angel.”

I mewled at the praise and leaned into his touch until he gently lifted me onto the bed. I was on my knees while he sat behind me to undo the binds around my wrists. I rubbed at the red marks. They didn’t hurt but were a little sore. Noah left a small kiss to the back of my shoulder while his hands ran up and down my hips and I reveled in his touch.

His dick twitched against my back, and I smirked.

“Ready for some more?” I teased.

Noah agreed with a hum and one of his hands slide up my stomach towards my breast to palm at the left one. I leaned my head against his shoulder letting out a long breath as his fingers pinched and pulled at my nipple.

“So perfect,” he mused.

With one hand on my breast, his other found my aching clit and began rubbing it in small circles. I jerked with his touch and rubbed my ass against him. His cock slid against my slick folds and I gasped when the head nearly slipped inside.

Then I realized, we hadn’t talked about something kind of important.

“I thought it would be good to know that I have an implant. You know in case you were worried. I mean, we could still use a condom.”

The corner of Noah’s lips curled up in a smile at how fast the words spilled from my mouth and halted his movements on my clit for a few seconds. He buried his face into the crook of my neck.

“I’m clean.” He assured me with a soft kiss to the back of my neck.

I nodded. “So am I.”

“Good, because I want to feel everything.”

Noah bit the skin behind my ear, and I hissed out in pleasure. His hands gripped my hips to lift me up a few inches, the head of his cock pressing against my entrance. It amazed me he was hard again after orgasming a few minutes ago.

As he pressed inside, I sucked in a breath at the sudden stretch. Even with how wet I was, it still took some coaxing to push in every inch and when he was finally was, I let out an embarrassing moan of satisfaction. We kneeled there on the bed, Noah behind me as I sat on his lap with his cock buried deep, and I knew after tonight, no one would ever compare to him. He didn’t even start moving yet, just enjoying the way my pussy clamped around him.

“Angel,” Noah strangled, trying to keep himself together.

“Please,” I begged while I began moving my hips against him. I needed some kind of friction, the anticipation was killing me. “I need you to move, please. Don’t worry about hurting me. I need it.”

Those words were what Noah needed because soon, his hips began snapping up into me with no falter. My head fell back onto his shoulder while my hand snaked up into his hair. He pulled out his cock, leaving only the head inside before burying himself deep inside of me. He did this a few times over and my body fell over slightly. Noah’s tattooed arm wrapped around my stomach to keep me pressed hard against him and our breathing synced together, short and shallow.

“Oh yes,” I moaned when he hit that spot, stars dancing across my vision.

His finger pressed against my swollen nub and rubbed up and down then side to side.

“This pussy is mine tonight,” Noah grunted, enunciating each word with a thrust. “Say it.”

I pulled his hair. “Yes, Noah. Yours, it’s yours.”

He stilled his thrusts for a moment, teeth dragging across the skin of my back. “Fuck, I love the way you say my name. Say it again.”

I did, over, and over like a prayer as my orgasm crested.

Suddenly, Noah had switched our position, and I was on my back while he leaned over me, my legs up over his shoulders. The emptiness in my pussy made me almost cry in disappointment and he gave me a sly smirk.

“Don’t worry angel. I just want to see your face when you fall apart on my cock.”

Yes, please.

With one fast snap of his hips, his cock spread me open again, and I screamed out in pleasure. This new angle being exactly what I needed to have my orgasm wrap around me once again. It was so close, I could taste it on my lips.

“Your pussy is clenching around my cock, fuck angel. You’re going to cum,” Noah’s hand smacked against the swell of my ass.

The sudden sharp pain made me yelp, so he did it again, this time harder. And on the fourth slap, it was my undoing as I came with a shout. My body convulsed with the aftershocks and through the haze in my vision, I noticed Noah’s eyes shut when his hips stilled.

I cupped his face and brushed my thumb over his bottom lip, wanting so bad to taste them. It was my rule, no kissing, and at the moment I was regretting it.

“Cum for me, Noah.”

Our eyes locked before he tipped his head foreward to lick and bite at my nipple. With one final, hard thrust, he spilled himself inside of me as the final clenching of my orgasm milked him.

“Y/N,” he breathed against my breasts before gently collapsing on top of me.

I was spent, and exhausted, and as we lay there in each other's embrace, I wanted sleep to take me for a few moments. My head was off to the side where I read the clock. It was just after two a.m.

Five hours left.

My fingers brushed the hair from his face and Noah hummed in delight but didn’t open his eyes. He was also exhausted and despite only having a few hours left together; I let the both of us rest our eyes for a while.

I awoke sometime later with a tongue flicking at my clit while two fingers pressed into me. My head snapped up from the bed and saw Noah buried between them, his hair disheveled.

“Hm, this is a great wake up call,” I moaned arching my back off of the bed.

He pulled away from my core to lean up over me, his fingers still working in an out of me.

“I couldn’t stop myself. You looked so fucking beautiful laying there.”

Every inch of my skin heated in a blush with his compliment and tried to bury my face into the pillow but with a harsh grip to my chin, Noah forced me to look into his eyes.

“Don’t hide from me, angel,” he said.

I didn’t.

We both held each other's gazes as his fingers brought on my fourth orgasm of the night, this one not as loud as the others. My throat was raw, but it still ruined me, my body collapsing onto the bed. Noah pulled his fingers out of me and I bit my lip when I saw them glisten with my wetness as he brought them to his mouth, licking them clean.

“I think you’ve wrecked me.”

I sighed when he pulled me into his chest, and I wrapped my leg around his waist.

Noah chuckled. “We slept for an hour.”

I frowned when I saw it was now 3:15 in the morning. The moonlight brushed across our bare skin from the large window in the room and for the first time since we started this, I actually took in all the tattoos that covered Noah. My fingers traced the floral design on his chest then skidded over the female and male skeleton and traced up to the design on his neck. It was a hand with a snake intertwine around it and an apple with green leaves.

“Did this hurt?” I asked.

His own fingers were tracing over the small design of my back shoulder tattoo. It wasn’t anything like his designs, a simple collection of flowers that wrapped around to my arm.

“Like a bitch,” he admitted.

I looked up at him after tracing over the one on his stomach; it was a reaper that had a sithe and a lantern.

“Which one is your favorite?”

He propped up his leg and pointed to his thigh. It looked like some kind of anime character.

“Which is your biggest?” I asked.

Noah waggled his eyebrows at the innuendo and I playfully smacked his chest. “I mean tattoo, you perv.”

He sat us both up before showing me his back and I sucked in a small breath. It was large, almost taking up his entire back. It was a picture of what I assumed was Jesus with the crown of thorns. I wasn’t a religious person, but I’d admit, it was beautiful.

Noah turned over and crawled over me, his dark eyes staring at me from above. My hand ran up his chest before locking behind his neck and I almost titled my lips up to kiss him.

“Do you want to be a good girl for me?” He asked with a low voice.

I clenched my thighs while nodding.

Noah to the doors that led to the balcony. “Go outside and wait for me.”

“What?” My brows furrowed, not understanding why he wanted that. “It’s the middle of the night. What if someone see’s us?”

“You said it yourself. It’s the middle of the night, no one will be out there. Now, get your perfect ass outside and wait for me.”

Noah crawled off of me and dismissed me with a swift pat on my ass. When I stepped outside, the cool air brushed against my heated skin and my nipples instantly hardened. The street was quiet below and thankfully, no one else were outside on their balconies. Whatever Noah had planned, no one would see.

My hands grasped the railing on the balcony when the door opened behind me, Noah pressing me into his chest.

“Keep your legs straight but bend over the railing,” Noah rasped into my ear.

The pounding of my heart thundered in my ears as I obeyed him, ass pressing into his semi hard cock. His feet kicked mine farther apart while his hand dragged down my spine and stopped at the tight hole between my cheeks and I froze with hesitation.

This was something I never done. It was forbidden, even with fingers or toys.

“Has anyone ever taken you here?” Noah breathed against my neck as he leaned over me.

I shook my head.

His large hands palmed my ass, spreading my cheeks farther apart. “Will you let me?”

My body squirmed in his touch. “Won’t it hurt?”

A soft kiss to my cheek. “I’ll go real slow, angel. And I have lube.”

I turned my head farther to the side and noticed the small clear bottle in his hand. The mere thought of having his cock in that hole made my body shiver with not only fear but desire.

“Okay,” I breathed after a few beats of silence.

Noah’s cock twitched then I heard the pop of the bottle cap opening and a cold liquid coating between my ass.

“You’ll have to relax. I’ll be able to slide in easier if you’re not tensing, okay?” He said.

I nodded.

Noah worked my tight hole with one finger, going about knuckle deep before a hiss fell from my lips. But after a few seconds, the pain subsided to pleasure and as the hiss of pains turned to moans of pleasure, Noah worked in another finger. He fucked my ass with the two fingers until he thought I was stretched far enough open for him. I had my head to the side so I could watch him and once he pulled his fingers out, he spit on his hand then wrapped it around his cock.

Some of my arousal dripped down my leg at the sight of him spitting and I secretly wished he would spit on me.

“Safe word?”

A warm smile pulled at my lips because Noah continued to make sure I was alright with what he was doing to me tonight.

I pushed my ass farther into his hips. “Fuck my ass, Noah.”

“Anything for you, angel.”

His cock slowly pressed into my ass and I did my best not to tense up but the pain ached, causing some resistance. The sound of Noah spitting echoed in my ears as I felt the cold saliva dribble down the crack of my ass and I moaned loudly. So loud I was sure whoever was in the room next to us would have heard.

“You like it when I spit on you?” Noah asked while pressing a little deeper into me.

“Yes,” I hummed when the pain was gone, sheer ecstasy filling my veins.

He rutted against my ass as his strokes were long and deep. I rested my forehead against the cool metal of the railing and my pussy clenched around air, wanting something to fill it.

“Touch yourself,” Noah rasped, gone in his own ecstasy.

My fingers worked against my bud, sparks shooting through me. With one of his hands digging nails into my hip, his other wrapped around my throat pulling me up into his chest. This new angel caused him to go even deeper and my eyes exploded with a white haze.

“Such a whore for my cock.”

The grip on my throat was tight, cutting off my oxygen, but not enough where I would pass out.

“Yes, Noah.” I agreed.

His teeth dug deep into my neck, leaving I didn’t doubt another dark mark. I hadn’t checked in a mirror but from the faint pain I felt after he bit me every time tonight, there had to have been marks left behind.

“My whore. My angel,” He grunted as his hips stilled, cum shooting into my ass.

“Yours,” I called out as my orgasm followed him, body falling slack into his embrace.

The warm water brought a large smile to my face as Noah sat behind me in the large bathtub, rubbing the body wash deep into the sore muscles of my back. After our time on the balcony. Noah dragged me back into the room to fuck me on the couch then ate me out on the bathroom counter before I sucked his cock while he sat and filled up the tub for our bath.

It was now 6 in the morning, the sunrise breaking through the clouds, and we had one hour left together. I did my best to hide my disappointment because while my heart was breaking for leaving him, Noah didn’t seem bothered by it. I mean, this is what we agreed on. We would part ways when the time came, both doing our best to forget each other.

Bullshit.

From the first second Noah’s fingers touched me back in the green room, I knew I was fucked. He ruined me tonight, in the best possible way. No other man could ever compare to him in how sweet he spoke to me outside of sex or the filthy dirty things he called me while having me bent over, moaning.

I could try to have relationships after this but what was the point when all I would do was think of Noah. Everytime I looked at him or traced his tattoos or ran my hand through his hairs so I could get a better look into his dark eyes, my heart would skip a beat while my stomach flipped, butterflies fluttering to life.

Noah made me a promise that I wouldn’t like of Jacob at all tonight and he made very well on that promise.

I cursed when I realized Britt’s advice from earlier had in fact worked.

“They best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”

A soft tune hummed deep from Noah’s throat and I leaned closer into him, loving the way it sounded. It almost lulled me to sleep, but I forced my eyes to stay open.

“That sounds beautiful,” I murmured.

Noah wrapped his arm around my stomach underneath the water. “It’s from our second album. It’s called If I’m There. One of the few slower, softer songs we have.”

“I can’t believe I’ve never heard of you guys. It seems like you guys are pretty popular,” I said.

“We really blew up this last year. It’s been a crazy change but neither of us are complaining. This is something we wanted since we formed the band.”

I turned my head up towards him so I could look into his eyes. “Where are you guys headed to next?"

"Portland then our final show is in Los Angeles. Then were home for 5 months before we head overseas for a few weeks." Noah answered while moving the wet strands of hair from face.

"Do you ever get to rest?" My eyes held a hint of sadness.

That life sounded exhausting and couldn't imagine being away from home for that long.

Noah shrugged while placing a chaste kiss on my damp shoulder. "When we get back from Europe, I'll have about three months before another tour starts."

Silence fell between us and as the warm water turned cold and minutes dwindled down to only twenty left between us, Noah lifted me from the tub and carried my back into the room, water dripping from our bodies.

“What are you doing?” I giggled when he tossed me onto the bed.

He spread my legs apart with his knee. “I want one last orgasm from you, angel. Think you can do that for me?”

I was exhausted, bones and pussy aching, but he asked so nicely. How could I deny him?

Noah wrapped my leg around his back while he lined his hard cock against my entrance, brown eyes locked with mine as he filled me to the brim. I arched my chest into his as my hips raised, giving him a deeper angle. This time, his strokes were slow and soft, taking his time with me. His tongue flicked over my nipple, teasing at pulling before he shifted over to the other one, mimicking his actions. The pad of his thumb teased at my clit while his cock pulled most of the way out, my arousal glistening on him.

“Noah, I’m going to-.”

My words fell, my orgasm building and cresting into a crescendo. Bright stars etched in the edge of my vision as my breath became shallow.

“Look at me, angel,” Noah grunted. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

I did, my breath catching in my throat when I saw the look of adoration shinning in his brown iris’. His lips were meters from mine, I could feel his warm breath fanning over them. One rule I set suddenly didn’t matter anymore since this was ending in five minutes so I told myself fuck it.

I crashed my lips to his, finally being able to taste him. Noah didn’t miss a beat, his tongue dancing with my own. His lips molded perfectly with mine, almost as if we were meant to be. Cliche, yes, but that was the only way I could describe it. It was a desperate kiss, teeth smacking against each other, and he bit down on my bottom lip while his thrusts became erratic then with a shuddering scream, we both fell apart together.

We lay there in our post daze of bliss for a long moment of silence until his phone rang loudly, the alarm he had set for seven breaking the glass of the glass house we created to protect us from reality.

Noah pulled out of me and rolled over to silence his phone while I stood from the bed to find my discarded clothes. Tears burned at the brim of my eyes but I quickly blinked them away as I cursed to myself. I didn’t think I would get so attached to Noah but here I was, not ready to leave him yet even though I had too.

Once dressed, I turned on my heels and saw Noah was standing a few feet in front of me, still shirtless, but had his hands buried deep into the pockets of a pair of sweatpants.

“Seven a.m.” He said with a nod.

I bounced on the soles of my feet. “Yep. I don’t know if I should say thank you or something.”

Noah laughed. “Trust me, angel. You helped me just as much I did you so there’s no need to thank me.”

I nodded, not sure what else to say.

“Did you need me to call you an Uber or something?”

“Already taken care of,” I held up my phone.

I had ordered one before I dressed, must to the dismay of my aching heart.

Noah nodded now. “So then, I guess I’ll see you around?”

Letting out a shaky breath, I held my head high while squaring my shoulders. In order to help curb the pain that was stabbing my heart, I knew what I had to do; something I hated and always refused to do. This would never work between us, Noah said it himself he barley had time for himself when he was home, how could we balance a relationship? Plus, this was only a onetime thing; something we both agreed on.

Swallowing thickly, I opened the door and looked back over my shoulder. His bright eyes dulled, probably from the exhaustion from our night and barley any sleep. I stood for a few seconds, waiting to see if he would make any kind of move but he continued to stand on the other side of the room with hands deep in his pockets.

I shook my head with another shaky breath, one lone tear slipping down my cheek and the strongest smile I could muster.

“Goodbye, Noah.”

[bulliestrolls]

A Streams Psyche [FLEEK AU]

Introduction to the Fleek AU and what's to come (this was so fun to write hiii)

Honestly, Creek’s never been a huge fan of Branch.

At first, it wasn’t personal at all, or at least he didn’t mean for it to be, he just didn’t like how Branch treated his friends. He was always such a grouch and he was such a downer at every given moment, and it was such a drag to listen to over and over again. If anything, Creek was grateful that Branch typically barricaded himself from everyone else, I mean, if he wasn’t going to be positive, then what was the point of having him around? And yet that never seemed to stop Poppy, her being the future Queen of pop and also his best companion. 

Poppy always seemed adamant on having Branch join their crew and changing his ways. While he never really understood why she wanted to so badly, he couldn’t help but admire her attitude. Something about the peppiness always brought a smile to his face, and he always supported her decisions as a best friend should. Usually though, it never seemed to work in her favor. Branch always blew her off and gave a stink eye to her and everyone else, and quite frankly it got on Creek’s nerves. 

He always did his best to cheer up Poppy whenever it happened, finding it strange how upset she gets over it. Why should she even care if he doesn’t? What was the need to show emotion over someone that didn’t even matter in the long run? Regardless of his thoughts, he succeeded often in bringing back her spirits, the gang usually partying together the remainder of the night as a result. Creek always greatly enjoyed their company, and loved to share his exercises with everyone, his life seemed perfect.

That was until the bergens attack on Pop village. 

Even now, he remembered that day so vividly. Poppy had planned a gigantic celebration for the village to party over them being free from the monsters for so many years. Everyone was so excited to join in on the festivities, everyone except the one who he can’t even think about anymore without clenching his jaw. 

Branch. 

As usual, that damned troll was set on ruining the rest of their fun, claiming how they’re being far too loud and the bergens would get them. Same shit as usual, it was incredible how Creek didn’t gain a headache from the repetitiveness of it. He’s tried before to talk some sense into the troll, but Branch always shoved him away, seemingly as if he were more irate with him than anyone else, which was pretty confusing to Creek. 

Branch, of course, had ended up retreating back to his lonesome bunker, and the rest of the group set up in preparation for the lovely party. And what a party it was, it would’ve been one for the books if the attack hadn’t happened right after. Before much notice, he saw the yellow beady eyes looking down at everyone, and all he can recall is the screams of his friends and the pleas for help which were left unanswered. 

Next thing he had known, he and his buddies were stuffed into a back, shaking with fear and breathing hard, their fate unknown. He remembers not reacting as strongly as his friends had back then. Really, he remembered only thinking of how to relax everyone and for them to have an open and clear mind. How come he hadn’t really processed how awful the situation had been?

Whatever hope he had given his companions started to dwindle the more time went on, especially when everyone had been thrown into a cage, a bergen staring down at them. Even in that situation, Creek had been adamant on everyone remaining calm, and that help would be there soon. He didn’t know if he was even being honest with himself at that moment, he already knew how hopeless the situation had been. And the problem only cemented itself when he was grabbed to be eaten by the Bergens king. 

The moment was instant, he remembered his friends shouting and crying out his name and it all became muffled as the world around him darkened. Originally he had thought he had shut his eyes only to realize he was inside the king's mouth. He was terrified, for the first time in his life, and he could do nothing but accept his fate. Only.. the king’s mouth didn’t do anything. He hadn’t chewed, or swallowed, and it left Creek puzzled.

He still had time! He let out a deep inhale before using all of his core strength to push against the walls of the mouth, letting out a guttural scream until he found himself falling out of it, being met with the two bergens, and the fear kicking back into gear. What was the plan at that point? They were skyscrapers compared to him, running was out of the question. All he could do in that moment was beg for his life, pleading mercy and willing to do anything to be granted such. 

It seemed to have been a running thing through his life, the will to do anything he could in order to get what he wanted. In this case, that was making out of this alive. 

And so, he had made a deal to spare pop village and everyone in exchange to live. He truly wished it didn’t have to be that way, not when he has achieved such a strong bond with the others, but he didn’t have any other choice in the matter, so he reluctantly agreed. The next time he had seen everyone, they were all ecstatic to see that he was still alive, and he couldn’t help but smile despite the circumstances. It was short-lived however, when his eyes traveled to Branch, who seemed shocked and… annoyed that Creek was there. 

Really? Even after everything he was still acting like that? Before he had known it, Branch was exclaiming Creeks’ betrayal, his hair wrapping around Creeks neck harshly, cutting off his circulation to breathe. Relief overflooded him when Poppy had pushed Branch back and tried to talk reason into him. When everyone turned over to him however, he wasn’t quite sure of what to say. 

He… didn’t want to lie so he told them the truth of his betrayal, but it was for good reason. He hadn’t been able to get another word in before Poppy was doing the exact same assault Branch was previously. That was expected from Branch, but from HER? His heart was shattering, wondering where his Poppy had gone. She would never have acted like this towards him before, this must’ve been all his doing. He must’ve been changing her.

Why?

Why was she acting like that towards him? Surely she would’ve understood he didn’t have a choice in the matter, he would die otherwise! He insisted that the other trolls would’ve done what he had to if they were placed in his situation. When Branch had resisted her, Creek’s head felt like it was going to blow when he saw him holding onto Poppy like that. What the hell gives, exactly? It wasn’t like this until only now, and it confused the hell out of him. 

If anything, HE should’ve been the one to be angry in this situation. None of them had done anything to save him from his supposed doom, they all thought he was dead, after all. And, while he may not have enjoyed having to betray pop village, he felt a bit of sadistic glee when it involved Branch being part of the equation, especially now. After all, he made all of his friends hate him, telling them things behind his back. Things that showed Creek was the villain in the scenario, which he couldn’t help feel were ridiculous. SURELY they all would’ve done the same in this scenario, right? Right? Branch would’ve, definitely! He didn’t like ANY of them until only recently, apparently. 

The thought of it all made his head spin, he hated it. He hated him. None of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for that fucker. Creek could’ve calmed his friends down about the betrayal if not for HIS outburst. He wouldn’t have already been rooted against if not for Branch, his friends would’ve believed him, surely. Maybe… maybe this all was for the best! Yeah, yeah that’s it! At least in this way, Creek could properly punish Branch for all he believed was his fault, and maybe, just maybe, he could change Branch to their side once and for all, a feat Poppy wasn’t able to achieve so he would do it for her instead. Then… everything would return to normal. 

He had hoped at least that everything would return to normal.

Creek ended up returning to Pop village and doing what had to be done, which he felt sorrow for, at least that’s what he showed. It wasn’t really known how he was feeling about it all, but he did pity them all for being so weak and powerless in the situation. 

Some time later he finds that plans went south, and he was rolling out of the bergens kingdom with their chef, who was on fire. It was yet another moment of blink fast and you’d miss it. That was also the moment he realized that he didn’t need to betray them at all and everyone was still alive, which gave him momentary happiness, only for it to dwindle at the fact that everyone was leaving him to die. All he could do at that point was to scream along with the other bergen until the fire was put out and she was dead. Except that’s not exactly what happened. For some reason, the fire hadn’t killed her, which was a bit of a shock to him. It might’ve been due to the rough and thick skin of the bergens, but he wasn’t entirely sure. Regardless, since she was out of it from the pain, he thought he could maybe make an escape.

That was until he felt her cold and bony hand grab him, preparing to finish the job and eat him herself. God, he was just going to die no matter what he did, huh? How was any of it fair at all? 

The moment was thankfully short-lived, or at least so he thought, as he felt both of them falling down into a pit. The bergen had died almost instantaneously, sinking down into the stomach acid of the creature that had swallowed them both. He had more time to react than her about it, his small stature having him fall down at a slower pace. With quick thinking he gathered his hair strength to break out, but he still gained acid burns from being in there already. He screamt from the pain but was desperate to get out, to live.

He eventually had made it out of the monster's pit, gasping heavily as he had access to basic air once more, thanking whatever entity above him that was giving him a second chance at life. The troll had focused on tending to his wounds, letting out a hiss of agony at every touch, but it needed to be done. Once he had finally had a chance to think properly once more after his second near-death experience, it washed down on him like a dam. 

None of them cared if he died, hell, it seemed as if nobody even realized he was gone. What could he do from here? He certainly couldn’t have returned to pop village, at least not right now. If they were willing to give him up to a bergen, then they’d likely execute him on the spot for his ‘crimes’. All he could do right now was prepare for his eventual return, knowing that whenever that may have been, there was no going back to the way things used to be. His relationship with them all had been completely severed, and the way he could feel about things felt more warped than ever. 

In the months and the year it took until he returned, he practiced learning basic expressions, reacting to things suddenly and unreasonably to see their effect on others. How to truly react to things became null to him ever since that day, and it was a struggle to come across as normal afterwards. Nevertheless, he persisted, adamant on changing people's minds on him, and getting them to love him once more. 

As expected, his return was at first unwelcomed, him being met with Branch yet again, who was right at Poppy’s side. He couldn’t help but scoff mentally at the fact he was replaced with THIS troll of all things, but he kept his calm and cool stature, claiming guilt and being apologetic to everyone, even though he still didn’t really believe he did anything wrong. It was a stressful situation after all, still, he let them know he was willing to repent for everything and do whatever it takes to gain back everyone’s trust once more. Branch’s face during that moment couldn’t help but creep into Creek’s mind, remembering its vile expression clearly. 

For the most part, everything had been calm. He worked hard and dutifully, really gaining back his place back into the village. It was going according to his plan beside the.. Setbacks. For some reason, anytime he saw Branch, there was the unbridled and raw rage that built inside of him. Sure, he could just stay away from where Branch is, but it’s not that easy unfortunately. Not when he’s constantly walking behind Poppy like a mutt. That is also not to mention Branch had recently reunited with his family members, his brothers. 

Oh great, there’s more of them multiplying. They’re like amoeba. Disgusting, filthy amoeba. 

It seemed that no matter what Creek did, he was always met with Branch’s face in one way or another. Sometimes it got so bad that he lost sleep due to it. He’s also had violent spells on his lonesome just thinking about it all, punching at walls and ripping out his hair just to do something about the thing he had no control of. That was getting pretty old though, and he decided if he couldn’t get away from Branch, he should work on ways of getting rid of him. 

There was one brother that Creek didn’t seem to mind, whose name was Floyd. Floyd was the second youngest brother, according to Branch, and was also quite the apathetic being. Creek never intended getting close or even talking to him, but one thing led to another and it turned out that they could connect pretty well. Floyd would always check up on him, and even started doing yoga, which made Creek overjoyed. Nothing else was expected of their partnership, that is until he had noticed how uncomfortable it had made Branch. Not only that, but Poppy even talked to Branch about how nothing could be done because Creek wasn’t hurting anyone. The comment of her not liking him either stung, but was quickly wiped once he realized what this could mean for him. 

This was it. THIS was how he could fix his issue with Branch, it all made sense! Creek hated seeing Branch happy, and that must be where all of the rage came from! If Branch were in ruins however, then Creek could return back to normal, even feeling a bit of joy from it. His friendship with Floyd was enough to unsettle Branch, so why not take it a step further? He could start flirting with him, taking him out on dates, hell, maybe one day he could even ask for his hand in marriage. Oh, Creek bet that would kill Branch. The thoughts in his head raced with ideas for what he could plan with Floyd, and it made him positively giddy.

If only he had known what this all would’ve done to him, then maybe he would’ve rethought everything.

[ssweetleaf]

old money.

pairing— mean old money!steve harrington x fem waitress!reader

w/c— 3.2k

♡ summary— whilst serving table number three for the evening, a certain someone catches your eye, though he soon turns out to be an asshole. you want more.

♡ includes— SMUT 18+, mean dom!steve, he’s an asshole, bathroom sex, so kinda public i guess??, pussy eating from behind, degradation, calls reader stupid once, orgasm denial, unprotected p in v (use protection!!!), breeding kink, cream pie, no aftercare, little bit of spanking, bad ending, i repeat, BAD ENDING!!!

a/n— please let me know what you think! i kind of hate this and there’s like not much plot but enjoy!

˖ ࣪⭑

Life was repetitive.

You’d wake up, leave your sorry excuse of an apartment just to go to work— some fancy-shmancy restaurant that served over-priced food and too-expensive wine, home for the big-wigs and the rich. And then you’d go home, back to your roommate, back to your creaky bed and your ceiling that had a suspicious amount of mould growing— back to your less-than-perfect lifestyle, dreaming of being one of those little flings that hung off the million-dollar men that stepped foot into your workplace, money signs everywhere and diamonds around your neck.

Shit— a girl can dream, right?”

And that was how it went, over and over and over again, letting slimy men pet at your ass and maybe show them a little too much cleavage, flutter your lashes at them all coyly just to earn a rather hefty tip at the end.

You were starting to get pretty sick of it…

“Good evening, gentlemen, is there anything I can get you started with?”

It was late and you were serving table three— a big gaggle of bozos you assumed to have more money than you’d ever have in your life, keeping your eyes wide and speech sickly sweet, leaving a little sway in your hips, keeping your eyes on the prize at the end. God, you hoped they tipped well.

There was six of them, clad in fine suits and sparkling tie clips, already fishing around in their pockets for a light, cigarettes hanging limply out the side of their mouths. Though one stood out in particular, chestnut hair that almost touched his shoulders, honeyed eyes all hooded and swarming, angry looking, especially with the way his eyes furrowed—

“Hey, you listenin’ t’me?” You shook out of your stupor, your cheek ticking when he clicked his fingers in front of your face, earning a few chuckles from his little rat-pack when he leaned back to say, “Jesus, can’t get the service these days, am I right?”

“Apologies, Sir,” you replied, “what can I get for you?”

You would’ve almost said he was handsome until he opened his mouth, his stupid flashy cuff links glinting from the lamp that perched in the middle of the tablecloth, monogrammed SH, his initials, you supposed. He called for the finest scotch you had— the most expensive, ordering a round of glasses for the table and the whole bottle to be served, nothing less, finishing off his sentence with a quick, ‘stat’. He definitely wasn’t asking, though you couldn’t let that deter you, he definitely had the money, you knew that by the size of his Rolex.

So you made priority for his table, serving their spirit on a silver tray and handing each of them a crystal tumbler, finely cut with intricate details and pretty patterns— not that they gave it any notice however, quick when ushering you to pour like they hadn’t the time to do it themselves.

It was all going smoothly, moving around table three and trying to gather the least attention possible, pouring the same two fingers of whiskey, until you got to him. Shy under his gaze you leaned forward, feeling the heat of his gaze on your tits and he was quick to sit up suddenly, causing your hand to slip. A little spillage, nothing drastic, and with the way his lip quirked you knew he had done it on purpose.

“Really are testin’ my patience tonight, sweet cheeks—” he cocked a brow, one arm spread along the back of his chair, “you tryin’ to get yourself fired?”

Oh, fuck off.

“No, Sir,” you spoke quickly, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down hard just to stop the tears slipping from the embarrassment. “I’ll clean it up right away— excuse me.”

Back and forth, back and forth. To and from their table, spilt scotch all cleaned, soaked up by the crisp white of the serving cloth, the swift dabdabdab had your tits jiggling from underneath your uniform, and you tried not to clench your thighs together when he leaned back to get a good look at your ass.

You couldn’t be serious, getting hot under the collar for some rich asshole, finding yourself all too sugary-sweet once again, gazing at him from beneath your lashes when he ordered his main, sharp jabs flitting from the tip of his tongue when you stalled or stuttered— it only had you down worse for him.

You really were pathetic.

Eventually, the night had started to round off to a close, tables emptying, though the bar still busy with drunk men hunched over in their stools, it was most probable they were complaining about their wives, trying and failing to flirt with the barmaids.

You hurried back to the table you were waiting on, plates ridden from the cloth and piled high next to the sink in the back, ready for the poor dishwasher to see too, placing down the wooden box they had requested, flicking up the golden hinges with your thumbs to reveal their pompous cigars, cutting the caps off and handing them out one by one.

“Light it for me, would ya, honey?” Him again, staring up at you all dark and handsome, it had you inwardly swooning and you made sure to give yourself a slap once you got home.

“Yes, Sir.” You opened the lighter, silver and sleek, watching the flame come to life and flicker while you cupped a palm to shield any draughts. His lips looked so pink, pursed around the thick stick, his gaze heavy and set on you, sucking his cheeks in when he took his first drag, inhaling into his lungs and puffing it out right into your face.

Prick.

You excused yourself, almost finished for the night, eager to have a smoke and then get to bed— probably touch yourself over the thought of him- SH, whatever his name was. You wondered what it could be, the thought of asking him crossed your mind and you quickly shook it away, totally pathetic and really, really embarrassing.

You would never ever stoop so low and try to get with him— no matter if his bank account included seven digits, or his face was the prettiest you’d ever seen, he wouldn’t be able to afford you…right?

˖ ࣪⭑

“Oh, fuck— Steve!”

You weren’t sure what it was that caused you to comply with his request, a short, snappy, meet-me-in-the-bathroom-in-five kind of thing, smirk prominent on his lips, a toothpick limply hanging from his mouth, much akin to the cigarette the first time you had pressed eyes on him.

But whatever it was, it had you pressed against the counter in the woman’s bathroom, skirt hiked up and panties around your ankles, his face snug against your pussy from behind while he devoured your cunt as if he hadn’t had a full three course meal beforehand.

You had learned through teeth-filled kisses that his name was Steve— Steve Harrington. And you almost rolled your eyes at what an asshole-y name it was.

The whole ordeal was messy, his spit slick with your arousal, slipping down his chin and the length of his throat, saturating his once perfect shirt and tie— you were no better, makeup already ruined, lining your cheeks in long, black streaks, clumping your lashes from the constant tears that ebbed over your waterline. You made contact with your glassy eyes through the mirror, staring at your dumbified state before they started to roll back at a certain mean suckle to your clit.

You reached behind you, pushing your fingers into his chestnut hair, going to give the roots a little tug before his palm came down on your ass in a sharp smack.

“Not the hair.” He was stern, words muffled from your pussy and you would’ve laughed if it wasn’t for the constant attention to your puffy clit. “Stupid girl.”

Steve’s tongue prodded at your hole, slipping inside with ease at how slick you were, the sudden intrusion causing you to clench around his appendage and you moaned out at the way it flexed against your walls.

You were surprised he even took the time to use his mouth on you, considering you thought he’d be selfish while you fucked, but the thought occurred to you that he enjoyed it— Steve Harrington ate pussy for his pleasure— it made a lot of sense.

“Please—” you whined, arching your back and simultaneously pushing your ass in his face, driving his tongue deeper into your cunt and he audibly growled at that— clutching at both ass cheeks and keeping you tight in place, right where he wanted you.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He spoke, it was almost hard to hear, especially over the way he slurped so crudely at your juices. “Wan’ me to pay more attention to that pretty little clit of yours, baby?”

You nodded, clutching tightly onto the edge of the sinks, knuckles aching from the constant tensing and you gazed at the door, no lock, just an emptying bar, and you hoped no woman wanted to use the restroom.

The mere thought of someone catching you in this position had your brain in a tizzy, swirling in a haze all hot and bothered, the prospect of losing your job not even encompassing your mind at all.

He stuck to his word, suckling the pearl of your clit between his lips, flicking his tongue against it and burying his face even further, shaking his head from side to side so filthily and urging a gasp out of you.

You knew he was smirking into you, you could feel it. Smug bastard.

And once you could feel the rope inside your belly tighten, tighter, tighter, so ready to snap— eager to cum and make a mess of his tongue, leave him to gulp down your cream and leave a little kiss to your clit as a thank you…he pulled away, biting at the fat of your ass and suckling his teeth marks into the flesh, your orgasm dissipating, the pleasure leaving your clit as achy as ever and the rest of your body completely unsatisfied.

You gulped down some much needed air, staring at him with wide eyes and a stuttering mouth, words stuck in your windpipe when you tried to speak, instead you hoped your expression conveyed what exactly you wished to tell him.

What the actual fuck, Steve?

“What? You thought I was gonna let you cum?” He cooed, mocking you with a pout and two condescending taps to your cheek once he got to his feet. “Y’seem a little desperate, honey, barely had my mouth on y’for two seconds.”

The smirk was back again, and yeah, maybe it had been the best head in your life, but it definitely wasn’t two seconds until you needed to cum. So yeah, fuck you, Steve.

There was a mindless pout on your lips, and you realised that must of been what he was mocking, your thighs rubbing together, still so slick and sensitive from your ruined orgasm and the way he spoke to you— all condescending and mean, it made you clench around nothing, made your cunt throb the more he spoke to you in that way.

“Please?” You were surprised the words managed to slip, staring back at him and craning your neck to see and it made him chuckle.

Steve clutched your chin between a thumb and forefinger.

“Aw, my poor girl—” he cooed, all sickly sweet and nothing like him, there was something behind it, a different meaning, though you weren’t sure what. “You wanna cum real bad, don’t ya?”

You nodded, sniffling back your un-shed tears and giving him your sweetest heart eyes, all wet and starry.

“I’ll let you cum, hon, don’t you worry.”

He gave another tap to your cheek, a little harder this time and you couldn’t ignore the little glint in his eye and the twitch of his cheek— then pressed a wet kiss to your mouth, an exaggerated ‘mwah’ coming from him at the action.

Finally, he started to work on his belt, fingers fiddling with the buckle to pull it free from the loops, pulling at the button to his slacks and unzipping them completely, letting them slip to his thighs.

And it was quite shocking, actually. Not only was he not wearing underwear, but his cock was huge— you hadn’t a clue how he even got that thing in his trousers in the first place, and you were even more baffled as to why you hadn’t had a good look at it before.

The tip was stupidly pretty, gleaming with pre-cum and you watched while he smeared it around with his thumb— his shaft all littered with thick veins, trailing down to heavy balls, so round and full of cum.

Shit, you thought, he totally had a reason for being such an asshole.

Steve pressed a big palm to your ass, spreading you open as much as he could with a single hand while his other held the base of his cock, pressing it against your opening and feeding it through with a chesty groan.

You could feel your walls stretching around him, trying to accommodate his impressive size all while he split you in half— he was mean about it too, pushing to the hilt and not giving you much time to adjust before pulling out, just to slam himself back inside.

So deep, so heavy— bordering on painful, but your pussy weeped for him and his pretty little massive cock.

“Fuck, look at you, bet you haven’t taken cock like this before, huh, baby?” He let a moan slip, and you were sure it was one of the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard. “So fuckin’ pathetic, lettin’ me use you like a little whore.”

Your eyes were practically rolling to the back of your skull and you reached behind you, grabbing blindly at any part of him you could find, until he brought his own hand up to press it to the small of your back, holding it there and using it as leverage to fuck himself into you at a heavy pace.

He had the audacity to chuckle at the way you cried out, struggling under his grasp though pushing back against him with each thrust to get even deeper, desperate for him to fuck into your cervix and fill up your tummy with his sticky cum.

“Shit— Steve—”

“Can barely string a sentence together, sweet cheeks—” he grinned, “you must really like me, huh?”

You were babbling expletives and nonsensical verses, staring back at him through the mirror with watery, swarming eyes— clenching around him like a vice, almost too hard and he struggled and spluttered at the new found sensation.

“Fuck, that’s it—” he moaned, dipping his mouth to sponge sloppy, wet little kisses to the back of your neck. “You want that tip, baby, you gotta earn it. Gonna give you a big one, too, if you’re a good girl.”

There was a double meaning — you were sure, whining out at his filthy words and it was when you eventually stared back at your reflection that you agreed with him.

You were pathetic.

Tears streaming, lips all bitten and pouty, cheeks sheened with sweat and your hair stuck to your forehead— the weight of your tits about to fall out of your bra, the buttons on your blouse already popped off mere minutes before when he got his hands on you.

‘I’ll buy you a new one’, he’d said.

Money. Money. Money. Money. Money.

That was all he was, all he spoke about, all he cared about.

You were close, embarrassingly so, keening into him when the mushroomed tip of his cock jabbed into that special spot, the thick veins sliding against your gummy walls and splitting you in two.

“G-gonna—” you could barely get your words out, sobbing into the stuffy bathroom and leaning forward to press your forehead against the cool mirror.

“Gonna what, huh? Speak up, hon.” You could hear his smirk and the way the corner of his lip lifted, all clicky and slick, and you would’ve rolled your eyes if you weren’t so inebriated from his pretty cock.

“Cum.”

“You wanna cum?” He cooed, pulling out right to the tip to slam back inside you, heavy and hard, pushing you forward and bruising your hips. “How badly? Gotta let me know how much of a whore you are.”

“So badly, Steve— make me feel so good, better than anyone else—” you babbled dumbly, “wanna feel you cum in me, too.”

“You fuckin’ dirty girl.” His stomach muscles clenched, length throbbing at your want, “wantin’ a stranger to cum inside you— just isn’t good enough, sweetheart.”

He tried to click his tongue at you, wanting to mock you and tease, though the tut soon morphed into some kind of stuttered groan when you clenched and fluttered around him continuously.

“F-fuck, you really wan’ it, huh?” His thrusts were starting to grow sloppy, and his hold on your arm grew lax. “You really want my cum— fill you up and get you nice ‘n’ round, hm?”

You nodded fervently, helping him out and doing most of the movements yourself, his mouth agape and face flushed when you stared at him through the mirror while he watched the space where the two of you met.

“Have to wait until I cum, then you’ll have your turn.” He rushed out, grabbing a good hold of your hips, kneading at the fat before pressing his chest to your back— starting his pace back up and fucking into you like a mutt in heat, chasing his orgasm with a heaving chest and a pumping heart.

One, two, three long pumps, he stilled inside you, shooting his load deep inside and stuffing you full of that old money prodigy, and you took it greedily, milking his cock of every last drop, whining out at the warmth that flooded your cunt.

“Fuckin’ take it, baby— can’t waste a drop, gotta keep it all in.”

You expected him to continue after he had stilled and calmed down a little, get you off and make you cum— however as soon as his high had worn off and all the sparkles and stars in his irises had started to fade, he pulled out of you, long, stringy lines of cum connecting you to him and his cock was slick with your arousal, a thick ring of your cream slicking the base.

Steve reached for your panties that were still hooked around your ankles, pulling them up and letting them snap sharply around your waist, tugging them snug against your pussy so his cum saturated the already dampened cotton.

Speechless, you watched him tuck himself back inside his slacks, pulling up the zip and popping the button before reaching into his back pocket and tugging out his leather wallet, thick and bulging with notes and credit cards and he flicked through the hundreds, taking a wad out and pressing them flat on the counter next to you.

Your tip.

“You promised—” you squeaked out, referring to how he had promised you dearly that he’d let you cum once he was inside you. Fucking lying little son of a bitch—

With one final slap to your ass he headed for the door.

“See ya around, sweet cheeks.”

✰

tagging <3—

@lou-la-lou @paladinshenanigan-blog @bleachvibez @qardasngan

[sharkenedfangs]

— ☆ “SPIRALLING CYCLE — I MEET YOU HERE, AGAIN.”

#. — synopsis. sleep, his initial intention, the original plan impulsively made ahead or so he had promised, but y’know, sleep can be a bitch sometimes and damn it all if he’ll ever truly receive it for real, this time.

#. — content warning! angst with some eventual comfort at the end, mentions of physical abuse here and there, substance abuse with alcohol, shit household overall, negative self-perception, a groggy whitney and a glimpse of his life through his own lens.

#. — word count? 2.5k

#. — extra extra! ashes snippets : “too embarrassing to vent about my problems, so why don’t I make blondie here, experience it instead? except all ends well with him and not with me.”

Dappled sunlight faintly seeping through the silken blinds, smoothly draped over the glassy windows to tenderly kiss at Whitney’s drooping eyelids, tiredly shut away from numerous attempts at resting. Sleep, his initial intention, the original plan impulsively made ahead or so he had promised, but y’know, sleep can be a bitch sometimes and damn it all if he’ll ever truly receive it for real, this time.

‘Course, today or specially last night, it hadn’t discreetly knocked at his awaiting door nor contentedly graced him with a visit of its own, therefore, here he is. Stupidly awake at the crack ass of dawn and consciously aware of the ticking clock signalling the approaching hour, dizzying, red lines mundanely staring back at him to readily showcase the eventual obligation he’s stubbornly set upon himself. Fuck. If he doesn’t soon get out of this shitty hellhole life has bitterly stuck him with, then the occasional pebbles clumsily thrown against his rattling bed window will be sure to stir the other bitch up.

Said bitch probably awkwardly sprawled along the used couch, rusty springs threatening to pop free underneath the stitched mattress due to the sheer pressure of their sleazy form resting atop of it. Beer bottle drunkenly discarded forth from their loose grasp, hanging limply below to paint a grimy picture he’s been greeted with time and time again. Just stinkin’ up the fuckin’ place at this point, but who’s he to make the shots on that? Bitter son of the house and he’s acutely familiar with what that position entails. Say the slightest word and he’ll be good to go explore the shadowed streets, end up at that shoddy brothel worst case scenario.

Takin’ all the damn space though, as it had been repetitively affirmed before, he should be fuckin’ near grateful he even possesses a space of his own — no matter how cramped it may well be. No matter how suffocating the bleak walls gradually narrowing in on his curled frame may be sickeningly tight around his dry throat.

Speaking of, he’s getting thirsty here and so are the impatiently growing, muffled shouts of his gang aimlessly straying along the bricked wall of his apartment, boringly kicking at chipped rocks to pass the excruciatingly long stretch of time he’s taking to get the fuck up. Fine. Dirtied blonde, messy haired boy here, s’got the message sent his way. Stifled groan easily slipping its way past his chapped lips, instinctively yearning for the nearest source of a fresh, preferably cold drink to quench his endless thirst annoyingly itching at the back of his throat. Old, dinky fridge’s gotta be somewhere here, fuck— the kitchen. Obviously, dipshit.

Becoming as dumb as the fuckers you hang out with which are the only dumbasses to mindlessly follow him along wherever he so pleases, huffing and puffing like a group of stray mutts pitifully pawing at its owners feet for some much needed attention. Well, they’re not receiving it anytime soon, far too preoccupied with searching for some fuckin’ water— shit, even beer will do, even if it sets him on the same level as that drunken piece of shit to be greedily swallowing down alcohol early in the morning.

Groggy footsteps steadily dragging him towards the stretched hallway, memory settling in thickly as per usual, his feet automatically straying away from the creaking floorboard he’s known to soundlessly creak beneath the slightest weight. Don’t wanna wake the fucker up— doesn’t have the patience nor probably the maturity to properly deal with ‘em face on, specially when the oddly warming sun has recently risen.

No, he’s not a goddamn coward, just too good of a bastard to waste his precious time he mostly spends on fooling around doin’ nothing. Anything will do as long as it isn’t spent in this stifling flat where recollection beckons him in turn and crappy guilt forcibly gnaws at the bruised flesh of his slouched back. Coward? No, he says — but, his subconsciousness subtly whispers out otherwise. Liar.

Marble set in stone, routine playing out as faithfully expected by the absentminded tugging of his sweats, idly scratching at his balls beneath the cotton material all the while reaching for whatever catches his eye in the flickering light. Stupid bulb that never got fixed is really gon’ have him punch the fuckin’ ceiling one day, knowing better than to do so, instead tentatively taking a swig of a cooling bottle of.. something. Definitely strong with how it pleasantly burns within the pit of his churning stomach, momentarily soothes the doubts away in his chattering mind. If only the intoxicatingly warm effects of alcohol were eternal— Scratch that. The blonde knows life would be shit regardless, but at least you get to be drunk while doin’ it.

Hell, if it kills him, all the more better actually. A sullying stain dreadfully misplaced upon this shit world now rightfully wiped away, like he had never existed to begin with, fuck. Everyone wins if the troubling delinquent causing problems ‘round town cleanly kicks the bucket off, randomly dies in some stinky ditch somewhere in the darker alleyways as God would’ve had fuckin’ intended anyway. If there is one, for that matter. Because at the end of the day, he’s just some boy with a troubled mind and split knuckles bloodied up from previous fights — don’t know which exactly, he’s lost count by now. And, this make-believe deity the deluded temple has carefully fabricated isn’t going to spare his ass one bit for the awful sins committed by him, or so the stuck-up nuns keep repeatedly preaching to him whenever they catch sight of dirty filth.

Walking further down the elongated hall— it’s funny, place isn’t even that damn big in comparison to the ones out on Danube Street, yet practically feels like it’s eating him out from the inside with every careful step taken. Get the fuck out, get the fuck out of here before he groggily wakes up, not that they’d possibly care for his absence or presence when it doesn’t mean two shits to ‘em if he fails school, but does he give a shit if Whitney so much as bothers ‘em in any shape or form. Intentionally or accidentally, he claims, all results in the same exact scenario. A purplish bruise painfully etched across his wobbly limbs, bound to leave a residing mark. Bloodied, fucked up nose trickling out scarlet stains for his tongue to messily swipe against later, taste the metallic residue in his mouth as reminder for his actions. Serves him right.

Having gotten the harsh lesson driven into him, body naturally adapting to seek an escape of any kind, finally pausing at the sight of the wooden door with the jiggling chain left unloosed. Fuck, didn’t even lock the damn door? Saves him the gruelling effort of having to deliberately sneak amongst the heap of dirtied laundry riddled onto the ground, notably remembering the fact he can’t go prancing around outside half-naked. When you forget one fuckin’ detail—

Sure, this is the town where you get repeatedly raped on a regular basis to the point where no local resident even bats an eye to the supposedly, morally wrong act — which they never actually take a stance against, fuck if he cares — however, last thing Whitney wants is to instantly draw attention to himself already as it is. Yeah, the urging temptation is there, shivering jolt passing throughout his spine at the mere thought, but he’s not in that particular mood. No, not right now. Blatantly ignoring the sickening sight of his bulge visibly straining against his sweats, hot, leaking tip staining the greying fabric a darker shade. Morning wood, he supposes. Or just cuz’ he’s the type of guy to get high off of received attention when intentionally done.

Great coping mechanism for that affection you’ve never received early as a child, huh? Fuckin’ shut up— Goddamnit.

No point in sleazing ‘round here any further, not with the increasingly apparent risk at hand and the selflessly given opportunity to make his escape for the day. As always, his hasty departure goes unnoticed for the entirety of the upcoming hours, weeks would be a plausible period of time too with how unimportant his mere presence is at the shit hole one would reluctantly call ‘home’. Shit, if it works in his favour, all the more better for him. Gets to roam as he so pleases all night and who’s gon’ stop him for it? Yeah, that’s right. Normalcy instilled within his mind that this is how it should be. A parent worried sick over his own rebellious child fooling along somewhere amongst the bustling streets filled with bums? Sure, like that’ll happen.

While you’re out here daydreaming over stupid shit, why don’t y’a throw some clothes on? Idiot.

What else to wear than a plain, white shirt, which he somehow isn’t directly in any possession of at the moment. Merely leaving him with the sole option to steal a flitting glance towards the limited closet shut at his side. Thing isn’t going to squeak too loud if he delicately opens it, right? Better fuckin’ not. It’s in the blonde’s inborn nature to be instinctively rough, though discretion is a useful skill he’s conveniently learned when stuck in sticky situations like these, specifically. Cautious palms placed against the hatch, soundlessly sliding the door open to give way to the few attires hidden in the confined space.

Ah, there it fuckin’ is. His scruffy leather jacket hung upon the metallic hook, sewed patches prominent around the torn edges of his sleeve from the wear and tear accumulated over the passing time. Shit quality, but it’s ultimately his alone to wear. And, fuck it if he’ll wear it with pride no matter how used it appears to the naked eye.

Swiftly slipping on the cheap garment before momentarily regarding the broken zipper loosely hanging at the hem of the leathered cloth. Thing just had to wordlessly give up on him at the crappiest of times with the seasons progressively shifting to a cooler weather, chilling breeze bound to have his bare frame subtly shivering underneath the thick material. Likewise, he’ll manage somehow. Doesn’t he always?

Maybe if it was any other day, he would’ve taken a second more to consciously scrutinize his sharp features dimly reflected in the dirtied mirror, visibly scowl back at the glassy surface displaying the very thing he hates to death— Not today, however. No, plan already dully simmering within the tight confines of his mind, action he willingly chose to take.

So scandalous in every sense of the word that stupid ol’ church boy Sydney here would’ve profusely reprimanded him of such wrongdoings, frantically swat away at the revolting notion he was fully ready to carry out. Hah, makes him unconsciously smirk to envision his shocked expression paired by the quivering squirms of his fist tightening around that annoying, red pen. ‘S it so ‘disgraceful’ to a goody-two shoes with an easygoing life like him?

Guess it’s time to openly show him what piles of shit like Whitney someday, end up at. Barely sparing one forgetful glimpse to the cluttered dump he has to regrettably live in, a flimsy goodbye that’s less of a ‘good-bye’ than a good riddance sort of gesture. He’s not one to be sentimental, regardless. That crap is for fuckin’ snotty losers like the tearful orphans he regularly corners in the shady alleyways near the orphanage, choked up pleads falling on deaf ears when his knuckles disgustingly crack against the beaten flesh. A means of distraction for what he’s gotta lamentably endure on the daily. If he’s gotta suffer then, might as well bring a goddamn couple of nosey brats down with him too. Shit excuse and he knows it, doesn’t stop him from doing it either way.

Rushing past the creaking door, forcibly slamming it shut solely to spite the surrounding neighbours sleepily soaking in the approaching dawn, jolt their dumbasses awake as he laughs it off with a resounding snicker and of course, not to forget— his boldened signature move of a straight ‘fuck you’ shot in the windows direction. Whoever may fuckin’ see it by chance, may they remember that snide grin and those golden locks of hair messily tumbling forth to obscure his gleaming eyes. Cocky boy causing trouble, the first name to be softly whispered when an incident occurs on the local streets, Whitney. Yeah, they better fuckin’ hammer that name into their hardened skulls. Yell it out to the goddamn world.

“Whitney! Hey! Over here!”

Fucking hell— He totally forgot those morons were still loyally waiting for his eventual arrival out here in this icy weather, freezing their asses off till’ he got out of the house or flat, whatever they call it. Fists snugly shoved in his pocket jeans, freshly lit cigarette already comfortably tucked between his lips to then appreciatively take a slow inhale of the fag before casually exhaling out a puff of smoke to meld with the cooling air.

“Fuckin’ idiots. You’re still here? Scram, I’m not in the mood.” Barely hiding the faintest traces of a smirk creeping on his lips at the sight of his gang appearing like a bunch of stray dogs without him in the middle, where he rightfully belongs. Fine, he’s in somewhat of a good mood right now. Why not play nice? “Whatever, you guys can come if you want. I don’t give two fucks either way, just don’t fuckin’ start with that dumb shit again from last time or I’ll dump your asses in the nearest river and watch you fuckers freeze to death.” Classic tactic of ‘I actually want you to come and if you don’t, I’ll kill y’a.’

Holding back the snicker that’d ease past him once they gleefully raise their heads to meet his serious gaze, implying that he isn’t joking— he means it. Really does.

“See, what’d I tell y’a? He’d be happy to see us—” One naively chirps up while the other simply smacks their head in retaliation, puffing and crossing their arms in turn. “Fuck off! If it weren’t for your genius idea to stand outside in the freezing cold, my hands wouldn’t be fucking turning blue by now, y’a cunt!”

“Oh, shut up! If you hadn’t complained the whole goddamn way then maybe—“

Usual banter ensuing as per usual, told those fuckers not to do it and they still do. Hah, what the hell did he expect in the end? Wistfully sighing out to his warning being plainly ignored, hands coming up to run along the golden strands of hair in an easing habit to soothe the headache he’s getting from merely listening to ‘em. Head drooping lowly in a half-assed attempt at covering his widening smile threatening to fuck the whole act up. Bunch of freaks, aren’t they? His gang, though.

Which he’ll never concede to, no. Can’t have ‘em know he’s secretly grateful for their constant presence and insistent tugging for him.

“Cmon, you morons. Pub’s still open till midnight and I’ve got a fuck ton of money to spend from that slut. Drinks are on me this time, you better be grateful I’m sparing y’a a penny.”

No, he can’t possibly admit the simple fact that they make the difficult things in his shitty life, slightly more bearable.

[bebe-writes-stuff]

Hidden Hearts Reunited

A Mikey x reader oneshot (part 2, read part 1 so you understand what's goin' on sucka)

-- You were Manjiro's first and closest friend, before Baji, Sanzu, or Draken. You were there. Your mothers were friends, meaning you were destined to be friends either way. You spent every second together since birth, a result of both mothers planning the deliveries on the same day. They realized a distinct difference between you and Manjiro, like night and day; you and Manjiro are polar opposites. Unlike Manjiro, who was always crying and screaming, you were quiet with a cute smile on your little round face. Manjiro would constantly cling onto you, as toddlers, crying louder if you were ever separated. Both mothers gushed at his actions. He would share his toys only with you and sleep peacefully next to you. It was an unbreakable bond between the both of you, from birth --

Taking a single step forward, you urgently called out to him, "DON'T MOVE! STAY RIGHT THERE, MANJIRO!"

Your aunt, still bewildered by your abrupt encounter with the enigmatic boy, observed as he came to an abrupt halt. Simultaneously, a speeding car raced in front of him, emphasizing the gravity of the situation – had he taken another step, he might not have seen the sun again.

A sigh of relief left your lips as you realized what you had prevented,

"Damn, if that kid would've taken another step, he would've been mangled, shit. How do you know that car was coming?" Your aunt was somewhat surprised by the speed of your reactions and the intensity of your voice, considering your soft-spoken and gentle demeanor since she picked you up from the airport.

"Mikey! Where the hell are you going, man?!" His friend finally caught up, emerging from the restaurant they had just left a minute ago.

"Draken! It's Y/n, she's there!" He pointed across the street, locking eyes with his friend.

"Mikey...there's no one there."

"What..." his voice barely more than a whisper as he turned, only to be met with the sight of an empty street.

No...no...where did she go? Damn it, Y/n, why? Why do you keep leaving?!

He felt like he was losing his sanity. He had found you, after all these years. And now, he lost you again. You called out to him, saved him from getting hit. It was truly you, despite your physical changes over the years. The look on your face as you uttered his name, he was certain he made no mistake.

Your aunt wore a look of extreme confusion as you grasped her hand and hurried away, your expression dazed and breaths heavy.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concern evident as she cupped your face and observed your bewildered look. "Did you know that boy?"

"N-no, I didn't. I-I really didn't," Your tone suggested a mixture of shock, uncertainty, and a hint of nervousness, as if you were trying to convince both her and yourself.

Giving you a moment to catch your breath, your aunt supported you as you leaned against a random store's wall. You fell into a heavy silence, the repetitive thoughts echoing in your mind:

That wasn't him...

That wasn't him..

Your aunt enveloped you in a protective embrace, as if shielding you from your own thoughts.

"Hey, it's going to be alright. Let's head home. You've just endured a long flight, and you should have rested first. Leaving the house was a bit of a foolish idea anyway," she comforted, rubbing your back.

You trembled slightly in her arms as she continued to offer comfort.

What was I thinking? She needs to rest, especially considering what she's been through recently. I'm sorry, Y/n.

Now, as you lie in your bed, the weight of your new life in Japan, the recent loss of your parents, and the guilt of leaving your friend all converge, overwhelming you. The room feels heavy with emotions as you grapple with the fear of him hating you.

Tears well up in your eyes, slowly trickling down your face and cheeks. Each tear seems to carry the burden of your emotions, staining the pillows beneath you. The quiet sobs escape as your emotions spill over, and the room bears witness to the silent upheaval.

Your aunt, leaning against the door, observing the emotional storm within you. The weight of the situation hangs in the air, and her presence serves as a silent support, allowing you the space to navigate the complex emotions that engulf you,

"Y/n." Her voice was a little muffled, being behind the door.

"I know how you feel, I promise you, you aren't alone. Love has never been in my life; I never had the blessing of children, and loneliness was my constant companion. Until a couple of weeks ago when I was informed you'd start living with me. It felt as though the weight of a lifetime of isolation had finally lifted because of you. I love you more than you could imagine. I'll never let you have to face anything on your own." There was genuine caring and compassion in your aunt's words.

You fell into a contemplative silence, realizing that you had never known or met your aunt during your childhood, given her youth. Yet, you could sense the unwavering love she held for you.

…Could someone really continue loving another despite not seeing them?

Eventually, you assume your aunt has left because the shadow under your doorframe has disappeared. You hugged yourself realizing the constant sense of inadequacy that plagued you throughout your entire life. Fear holds you back from speaking up, going out, or forming meaningful friendships. Even the one friend you managed to make, seemed to hate you.

God, your message resonates with me – I know that I've been pathetic for as long as I can remember.

You rose from bed, changing into a pair of basketball shorts and a hoodie. You left your room and made your way downstairs, your aunt was engrossed in flipping through TV shows with the remote.

"Hey, you're up. Feeling better?" she inquired.

"Yeah."

You lied.

"I was thinking of taking a walk. Need some fresh air," you requested.

"Kiddo, as long as you're not into anything illegal or harmful, feel free. I trust you to make responsible choices and not get yourself into trouble Oh and here's some cash, if you want to treat yourself to something, keep it healthy." she assured.

Having made the decision to venture outside, you felt a slight chill in the air as you strolled through the neighborhood. A quick stop at a corner store satisfied your snack craving. Unbeknownst to you, your legs seemed to guide you effortlessly to the neighborhood of your childhood, drawing you closer to where Manjiro lived. Looking around,

I used to come here a lot with him, I wonder if he still lives near here

You thought about your choice, continuing on your path or checking if Manjiro was still there. Curiosity prevailed, and you found yourself walking toward the familiar location.

Unbeknownst to you, your arrival caught the attention of someone inside his shop, engrossed in working on bikes. Shinichiro paused his screw-tightening, squinting to confirm what he was seeing.

"Shin, you good?" Takeomi inquired, casting a peculiar glance your way.

"Manjiro wasn't joking. She's really around here! Keep an eye on the shop for a moment, Takeomi," Shinichiro declared, swiftly wiping his greasy hands on his jeans before dashing out of the shop to follow you.

He clearly hadn't thought it through, as, from your perspective, a fully grown man was rapidly approaching you.

Wait...WHAT THE-

In a panic, you sprinted scared for your life.

DAMN IT, I KNEW I SHOULDN'T HAVE COME HERE; NOW, I'M GONNA GET MURDERED BY SOME GREASY OLD GUY WITH A PIPE.

Glancing behind you, he was still in hot pursuit.

WHAT DID I EVEN DO?!

Abruptly, you collided full force into someone.

"Ow, fuck." you muttered, rubbing your arm.

"Watch where you're going, you idiot. Who do you think you are?" The man, radiating a tough demeanor and grabbed you by the collar of your hoodie.

...yep, I definingly should've stayed my ass home. Goodbye world.

"What the hell do you think you are doing? Let her go now!" The old man chasing you earlier, spoke in a firm tone, causing the guy to straighten up and bow.

"S-sorry, Shinichiro."

Shinichiro?

"Please don't kill me, old man," you pleaded, taking a step back.

"...Y/n, I'm only 25," he retorted, visibly hurt by your "old man" comment.

"Why are you running away from us, dude?"

Us...?

"Wait, Shinichiro Sano?"

"Yep, try not to fall for me." He remarked, a hint of smugness in his tone.

"...You don't have a girlfriend yet, do you?" You bluntly asked with a blank expression.

"You and Manjiro are bullies, I swear to God," he uttered, pained by the resemblance.

You looked away, hearing his name,

"I know it's hard after all these years Y/n, but I promise you. Manjiro doesn't hate you."

"You don't know that!" You were quick to shoot back,

"You're only saying that because you're scared." His voice was comforting just as it was back then.

He extended his hand towards you with a gentle smile. Though hesitant, the growing distance between you and Mikey became unbearable in your heart, the chains of your shared promise, shared curse, weighed heavily on your heart.

So here you were sitting awkwardly in front of Manjiro, not a single peep leaving your lips, your hands in your lap.

Damn you Shinichiro, I don't know what to say.

Abruptly rising from his seat and making his way to the door, you expect Manjiro to leave, not wanting to see your face ever again. But to your surprise, he did not leave; instead, Your heart skipped a beat as he locked the door.

@mysouleaten (You wanted to be tagged in part 2 so here ya go)

-- looks like Ima have to write part 3, it's probably gonna have some spice. Hope you enjoyed part 2

go read part 1 if you didn't, like who reads part 2 without reading part 1 lolol --

[ellieluvr420]

Friends? Never. Pt.22 (Ellie Williams x reader)

MASTERLIST (and information about Palestine) Please read!

SYNOPSIS: You and Ellie had been bitter enemies for years now but before that you were best friends. You had always planned to be roommates one day but when that becomes a reality the situation isn't exactly how you both imagined it.

SMUT MDNI OR ILL BE YOUR SLEEP PARALYSIS DEMON TONIGHT XOX

proofread kinda but this shit is like almost 9k words and i am tired so if there’s a mistake my apologies, will fix that tomorrow probs!

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧    

   

“Fuck I am so tired. I’ve been twenty for three weeks and I swear I’m deteriorating already.” 

“Ellie you are such a drama queen, you’re just tired because you actually ran laps with the group today.” Training with the group had been going well for the most part but watching Ellie come back breathless and rosy cheeked, though in better shape than the teenagers that followed after her, was the highlight for you. 

“Can’t believe you made me do that.” 

“You were being naughty and you know I don’t tolerate bad behaviour.” 

“I smacked your ass once and none of them even saw. You are so mean to me.” 

“Stop sulking, besides, would you have preferred to stay behind with Amber?” 

“Okay fair enough, how was that by the way?” Your mind cast back to the memory of your altercation with Amber and left a sour taste in your mouth.

“Amber, can you stay behind please?” 

“Why?” She snipped at you with a scowl. 

“Because I said so.” You grit as Ellie stifles a laugh. Ellie had been on a mission today to annoy you as much as humanely possible, lovingly but still, she had succeeded. She had done so well that she was now jogging away with the other trainees after you banished her. When they had all been doing target practise she snuck up behind you and landed a harsh slap on your ass that was so loud it was almost audible over the repetitive gunfire. You yelped and rubbed at the sore skin while sneering at her as she laughed.  

“Sorry babe, you know I love your ass too much to keep my hands off, you should’ve seen the way it jiggled.” She went to reach for it again but you slapped her hand away and huffed, only making her laugh more, you glanced at the group and when all of their heads remained facing away from you, you breathed a sigh of relief.  

“You are such a little shit, you’re running laps with the others while I talk to Amber.” 

“What?! No way.” 

“Yes way, I’ve had enough of you today.” 

“Oh come on babe don’t be like that.” 

“Too late and if you don’t go, no sex for a month.” 

“You’re joking.” 

“Wanna fuck around and find out?” She huffed and called the rest of the group over to announce the badly received news of their impending laps around the town. You almost regretted your decision when you were left alone with Amber, her attitude making you want to throttle it out of her. 

“I wanted to have a chat because I want to see what we can do to be better supporting you to get you up to standard for patrol.” 

“Excuse me? Why are you only asking me?” 

“This isn’t an attack Amber, this is for your safety but you aren’t progressing at the same rate as the others and I don’t want to see you fall behind.” 

“You’re just picking on me because you have it out for me so don’t give me all of that caring bullshit because I see right through it.” She hissed, you bit your tongue and took a deep breath, desperately trying to keep your cool. 

“Amber, your aim with a gun is nowhere near the standards of the others, you can’t hold your own in a fight even with one of the other girls, you struggle in the drills, you don’t understand tracking and you never know any of the answers to the questions we ask about survival tactics. I’m not picking on you, I’m stating a fact.” It was harsh but she needed to hear it. “I am willing, and so is Ellie, to put in extra hours with you to help but we can only help if you let us and stop being so stubborn.” 

“I’ll do the extra hours with Ellie but I’m not spending anymore time with you than I have to.” You snickered at her comment, a wave of insecurity crashing over her features. You’d happily let Ellie take her for the extra training, you trusted her with your life but then Amber would be getting her way and you just weren’t willing to let that happen. 

“Not gonna happen, nice try though.” You were going to leave it there but that eye roll and pout of her lip just sent you over the edge as you stormed over to her, closing the distance between you both. “Do you think I don’t notice your blatant flirting with my girlfriend? Do you think it’s going to get you anywhere? We live together, we have a child together, and when we go home together after training we laugh at your pathetic attempts on her. Stop being fucking delusional and get over yourself. I’m here to train you, not to be your friend so you either sort yourself out or I’ll tell Maria you’re not fit for patrol and she’ll find you some other boring job in Jackson.” She gulped and her eyes developed a glassy film. You had taken it too far but you were getting sick of her and she had just pushed you one too many times. “Now go home and come back tomorrow with a better fucking attitude because if you think I’m above kicking your ass you’re sorely mistaken. You saw how quick I took Harvey down, do you really think I wouldn’t crush you in a second?” She scowled at you before storming off, not quick enough that you didn’t see the fear in her eyes though. 

“Ugh she’s just- it was as expected. We argued, I scared the shit out of her and she ran away with her tail between her legs, she’ll be the exact same tomorrow. Same shit, different day.” 

“Damn, I don’t understand what her problem is.” 

“I do, she doesn’t like me because of us and because I have a position of authority over her, she’s the weakest of the group and it makes her insecure and I’m the only one that will call her out on it.” You eye Ellie pointedly as she smiles sheepishly. 

“I can take the next lecture, promise babe.” 

“Eh she won’t even listen to you because she’ll be too busy ogling you.” 

“Damn I’m feeling really objectified right now.” 

“Oh shut up, you love it.” 

“I only love the attention when it comes from you but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel good about myself.” She smiles smugly as she wraps an arm around your waist pulling you snug to her hip as she presses a kiss to your temple with a quiet chuckle. 

“Who would’ve thought I’d be the scary one out of us?” You chuckle but it dies in your throat as she quirks an eyebrow at you as if your question was entirely absurd. 

“Err everyone. You’re scary.” 

“I am not!” You pinch her side and she squirms away from you with a hiss. 

“You so are, it’s not a bad thing but you are terrifying. Do i need to remind you about you being a jailbird? My girlfriend is a convict, that’s scary, hot but scary.” You roll your eyes as the school comes into view and the bustle of parents awaiting their children is accompanied by the deafening squeals and yells of children bounding out of the gates like a stampede. You both stop and hold hands as you wait for Clem’s beaming face to come into view. 

You crane your neck looking for the strawberry blonde locks until they catch your eye causing a smile to grace your features. Ellie had already released your hand to kneel down in preparation for Clem’s leap into her arms that had become customary when you would pick her up. You both exchange looks of concern when her face remains angled towards the floor and she trudges over to you both dragging her feet. You immediately move towards her and bend down in front of her as Ellie joins you seconds later, cupping her cheeks you angle her face to meet yours and the sight sends shockwaves through you. Her face was red and blotchy, the remnants of tears evident all over her cheeks but what struck you both more was the slightly raised red mark on her cheek that looked like the precursor of a bruise.  

“Baby who did this to you?” Your voice was frantic as tears welled in your eyes at her sadness, it was the kind of sadness you hadn’t seen in her since the day you found her, the memory of that day cursed you and filled you with a rage you had never experienced before. She had been so excited for school this morning, it was show and tell and she had brought in a painting that her and Ellie had created with the watercolours you had gifted Ellie for her birthday, it was a replica of a polaroid taken on Ellie’s birthday of the three of you, Ellie holding Clem with her free arm around your waist as you all beamed at the camera. She had rushed you both out the door and practically skipped the whole way to school, babbling about how much she loved it and how interesting all her classes were and now she was sniffling and hurt, her entire demeanour oozing the pain she was in. You were so focused on the sorrow on her features you barely remembered asking her who caused her it until she answered you. 

“T-Timmy.” Her voice was meek and quiet, the opposite of how it typically was as she sniffled and wiped at her eyes before wincing as she accidentally pressed on the welt forming underneath.

“What happened kiddo?” Ellie’s voice was calm, unlike yours but the scowl on her face gave her true feelings away. 

“He made fun of me for having two mommies, so I told him he was ugly and smelly, because he is, then he hit me and pushed me in front of everyone. Please can we go home?” Every part of you wanted to chase Timmy and his parents down for what they had taught their child but Clem came first and she wanted to go home so that’s what you’d do. 

Clem perked up quick enough, after dancing to her favourite record with you both and doing some painting with Ellie while you prepared dinner, she seemed almost normal again though it was clear what happened today was playing on her mind as she looked up from the table with glassy eyes. 

“Why are people mean about you? I don’t understand, you’re the best mommies. Do they hate me?” 

“Oh baby, no one hates you, you’re our perfect angel, don’t ever have thoughts like that, ever, okay?” Ellie was the first to speak as she noticed the slight gape of your mouth though you snapped back into action when Clem turned to you expectantly. 

“Some people just don’t like that me and mama love each other. They don’t like that me and mama are young as well and we were so lucky to find you and make you a part of our family. They’re jealous and silly and I promise it’s nothing to do with you. I swear Timmy nor anyone is ever going to lay a finger on you again baby, some people are just silly and mean, do you understand?” She nods with a small smile before going back to eating as Ellie looks at you silently communicating the plan you knew you both had.  

“Clemmy, I’ve gotta go out for a little bit but I promise I’ll be back in time to say goodnight, okay?” Ellie stands and presses a kiss to Clem’s forehead as she strokes the soft hair on her head. 

“Okay Mama, I’ll miss you.” 

“Oh you know I’ll always miss you more.” You stand and follow Ellie to the door kissing her sweetly before she ducks out leaving you and Clem to start her bedtime routine alone. 

After her bath and three different books, Clem’s eyes were drooping and the yawn she tried and failed to hide was evident she’d be asleep soon. The sound of the door opening and closing let you relax and as Ellie walked in taking her place next to you at Clem’s bedside you smiled. She pressed a kiss to the girl's forehead. Clem cupped Ellie’s cheeks as she lazily opened her eyes smiling giddily, the love that was radiating from both of them warmed you, your heart sang, you could watch them forever and be perfectly happy with that. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts you didn’t notice them both turning to face you. 

“Can you both cuddle me until I fall asleep?” 

“Of course baby.” Ellie climbed over Clem’s body as you laid down on the other side of her. Clem cuddles into your chest as Ellie wraps her arm over the both of you, pulling you both in tighter to her. As Clem’s breathing slowed, you lifted your head slightly to look at Ellie who had been gently playing with Clem’s hair as she hummed a familiar tune to her. It reminded you of a time when your mother would sing the same song to you at bedtime. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 

Hush little baby don’t say a word 

Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird 

And if that mockingbird don’t sing 

Mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring 

And if that diamond ring turns brass 

Mama’s gonna buy you a looking glass 

And if that looking glass gets broke 

 Mama's gonna buy you a billy goat 

And if that billy goat doesn't pull 

 Mama's gonna buy you a cart and bull 

And if that cart and bull turn over 

Mama's gonna buy you a dog named Rover 

And if that dog named Rover won't bark 

Mama's gonna buy you a horse and cart 

And if that horse and cart fall down 

well you'll still be the sweetest baby in town. 

“I love you Mommy.” 

“I love you too sweetie, I always will, sweet dreams.” Your father had read to you after they both gave you your nighttime bath, indulging in your childish play letting you splash at them until the water went cold and you began to shiver. You smiled up at your father as he kissed your forehead goodnight leaving your mum to sing you the same tune she always sang to you before bed. Sometimes you'd sing along and sometimes you'd just listen to her melodic voice as you let her tune coax you to sleep.

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 

The memory haunted you, it had always been such a fond one but now it burned your skin and stung your eyes. You pushed the thoughts to the back of your mind as you sang along to the tune Ellie was gently humming and you could feel the new memories being attached to the song that took the aching pain in your chest away as if it was never there. 

You and Ellie both sneak out of Clem’s room once she’s firmly asleep and walk downstairs to greet Dina and Jesse who were sat in your living room. 

“Thanks so much for watching her guys. We won’t be long.” You smile at them before going to slip your shoes on. As you return Ellie smiles grimly at you. 

“You ready?” 

“Fuck yeah.” Your eyebrows furrowed as the sudden fire ignited within you once again. 

“Oh I would be shitting myself if I was them right now.” Jesse laughed though it was clear he was serious. 

“Have fun going full mama bears on their asses!” Dina calls out to you as you both make your way out the front door and start the walk to Timmy’s house. You were never going to let his parents get away with teaching their child to be so hateful but you didn’t want Clem to see this side of you. 

Ellie knocked on their door and as it swung open revealing a disgruntled man you both pushed past him into his home without a word. 

“Erm excuse you, what do you think you’re doing?” 

“We want to have a chat Rick, get your wife and sit down.” Your voice was monotone and your face deadpan but his scowl did not fade and he remained unmoving. 

“Are you deaf? Get your wife and sit down.” Ellie repeated as she stepped closer to him, her face stony and her voice low and menacing. You watched as his face morphed into a picture of fear and it only made you smile, he scurried off returning with his wife, both seating themselves on their sofa, fidgeting and clearly unnerved. 

“I’m assuming the school told you what Timmy did today?” They nodded as a response to your question, their eyes flicking between you and Ellie. 

“Mm and I bet you couldn’t have been prouder right?” Their silence was adding fuel to the fire and as you observed Ellie pacing slowly beside you, it was clear she felt the same. 

“Listen, if you have a problem with us, we couldn’t care less. But if your issue with us ends with our child getting hurt again, then we need to do something about it.” Ellie's voice was calm as she came to stand over them. “If Timmy ever comes near Clem again, I promise you, you will be looking for a new place to live because I will hunt you both to the ends of the Earth. You’ll never be able to settle because I’ll always be just on your heels. Do you want that life for Timmy? Never knowing when he’d be left alone in the world because his parents hatred cost them their lives. This is your only warning. Keep your snotty little shit away from our Clem or we will make sure the last thing you see is us smiling over your bodies. Don’t give me an excuse to do it, because I’ll enjoy every last second of it.” Their faces drained of all their colour and the sight was exhilarating to you. Ellie was always so gentle with you and Clem so you rarely saw this side of her but the few reminders you got never failed to stick with you, knowing she was acting this way to protect Clem, it only warmed you more. She walked to the door leaving you scowling in front of them. 

“If you think Maria won’t be hearing of this, you’re wrong, expect a visit from her tomorrow. You’re the reason her niece's daughter was hurt today, she won’t take that lightly. I’d watch your backs if I were you.” You grinned as they visibly gulped before strolling off to meet Ellie at the door, her face matching yours. The walk back to your home was filled with childish giggles as you recounted the looks on their faces. 

Even as you walked through the door of your home to find Dina and Jesse cuddled up on the sofa, you still couldn’t stop giggling. 

“Assuming it went well then?” Jesse questioned with a quirk of his eyebrow. 

“Oh yeah you should’ve seen their faces. Ellie went all ‘ah I’m so scary, I’m gonna hunt you down aghhh’ it was amazing!” You mocked Ellie’s deep, raspy voice that she had used while speaking to Timmy’s parents before bursting into laughter once again. 

“I did not fucking sound like that! But it’s true, they shit their pants.” She looked smug as her chin raised to the air only causing you all to laugh more. You had been annoyed about yours and Ellie’s reputations after the few incidents over the past months that had painted you in a darker light but it served you both well today. 

“That’s our girls!” Dina was beaming at you both as they stood. 

“Thank you again for coming over on short notice. Did she wake up or anything?” 

“No no, she’s been out like a light. Don’t keep thanking us anyway, we can use all the practise we can get.” Jesse breathed out as he rocked on his heels. 

They said their goodbyes and left, leaving you and Ellie to collapse in bed, tired of the day. 

“I know I joked but you going all scary to protect Clemmy was super fucking hot.” You cupped Ellie’s cheeks as you softly rubbed your nose against hers before resting your foreheads together with a smile. 

“Hey it wasn’t just me, I heard what you said to them after I left the room. That was a nice touch.” 

“Why thank you.” You giggled softly before your face turned sour again. “I just can’t believe we’re having to deal with shit like this. I mean, Ellie, she got fucking hit today. How many homophobes are there in this stupid fucking town?” 

“I know, it’s ridiculous. This place is about as good as it gets and still, shit like this happens. I know what you mean about being done with it all but where do we even go you know?” 

“Well I was thinking about that, remember that farm we stayed at before we found Clem, how perfect it was, how pretty the stars were from up there, how good the sex we had up there was hmm?” You dropped your voice seductively causing her eyebrows to shoot up. “We never got to go back and lock it up because of our little bundle of joy but I was thinking maybe Joel could watch her for a day and then Dina and Jesse have her for the night so we can go have a look around and see if it’s a viable option for us. I love our family, more than anything and the more I think about it just being us up there, the more I warm up to the idea, but obviously it’s close enough that we can still see everyone regularly and be connected to Jackson, what do you think?” 

“Sounds fucking perfect babe. But I have one condition.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“We have sheep, lots of ‘em, and a cow or two maybe, oh and we get to take Shimmer and Greg with us. We should have chickens too.” 

“Sounds like more than one condition to me but I’m in.” 

“You are going to make the cutest farmer.” She smirks at you as your eyebrows furrow. 

“You’re going to be the farmer. I will sit pretty and watch you get your hands dirty.” 

“Oh will you now?” 

“Mhm you’re the one that wanted all the animals.” 

“Well I suppose that’s fair. Do you think Clem will want to go?” 

“El she’d follow you anyway, that girl has stars in her eyes when she looks at you. I think after today especially, she’ll be happy to go be farmers up in the hills.” 

“Ah! So we will be farmers. I knew you’d see it my way.” 

“You are ridiculous.” 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 

“Ellie look! It’s just up ahead, it looks fine oh my god I’m so excited!” You rushed out as you spurred Greg on towards the picturesque farmhouse that you had been dreaming about returning to since you left. 

“Oh fuck yeah and it’s only taken us like an hour and a half to get here with the horses, it feels so far but so close at the same time.” 

“I feel really fucking good about this babe!” 

“Me too.” Ellie hummed and as you approached the gate you sucked a breath in, praying it would open freely. 

“Ah!” You squealed as the gate swung open and you jumped off Greg barely managing to stop yourself from jumping about as you seemed one step closer to building a life there.  

“Okay let’s stay alert just in case, you wanna sweep the house or the barn?” Ellie sounded serious but her voice failed to hide the giddiness in her as she hopped off of Shimmer and pressed a hand to the small of your back. 

“Let’s do the barn together first so we can leave the horses in there and then go through the house, I wanna walk in there with you, this is a milestone!” You beamed causing her to chuckle and start leading you round the house and towards the barn. 

Once the barn had been cleared and the horses were happily grazing on some hay you both walked back round to the porch, you practically leaping up the stairs and dragging Ellie behind you but before you could reach for the doorknob she yanked you back into her and pressed kisses from just below your ear down to your shoulder blade, swaying you both gently. There was a gentle breeze whistling through the air and it smelled so fresh and crisp, the air felt so much more cleansing than in Jackson, every breath you took making you feel light and renewed. A small white butterfly flew around you both before disappearing into the powder blue sky that was dotted with pristine, white clouds. There were patches of daffodils all over the field amongst other splotches of colourful flowers creating the most beautiful landscape. 

“El come on- ah!” You were interrupted as Ellie lifted you bridal style into her arms and started fumbling with the door. “What are you doing?” You said through giggles. 

“Practising for the real thing.” She nudged the door open and as you both walked through hearing nothing but sweet, serene silence you both snapped your heads towards each other and smiled. You grabbed her cheeks and pulled her in for a kiss that felt like you were melting into each other before she gently put you down and walked you towards the dining room table opposite the front door, her lips never once leaving yours, it started tender as she explored your mouth with her tongue, lapping at yours slowly, but it soon grew hungry and desperate, the passion radiating off of both of you, she still tasted slightly minty from when she had brushed her teeth this morning and it cooled the growing heat slightly. Her hands grabbed and squeezed at any expanse of skin she could find as she groaned into your mouth, the sound making your knees weak, relying on her to keep you upright as she reduced you to a puddle of desperation with just her lips on yours. You could barely think straight, your mind being clouded, everything becoming hazy as she devoured you. As your thighs hit the back of the table she grabbed at them and lifted you to sit on the oak, pressing herself between your legs and gently grinding her hips into yours, you whined quietly and wrapped your legs tighter round her waist, pulling her impossibly closer to you while gripping onto her hair like she was anchoring you to this plane of existence. The friction of your cores rubbing together could’ve generated electricity, it felt like it was as the hair on the back of your neck stood and you shivered with need. Shockwaves of energy rippled through you as the temperature seemed to rise impossibly higher between you both until you each pulled away gasping for breath, a string of spit connecting your lips together like the tether wrapped around each of your hearts that had kept you closely bound to her since the day you met, even when you hadn’t spoken all those years, the tether still tugged you in her direction.  

Ellie bit her lip as she quickly unbuttoned your jeans and yanked them down your legs with your assistance licking her lips at the sight of the wet patch on your underwear. “Someone’s pent up huh? All this from a little kissing? Need to take better care of you don’t I babe?” 

“Mhm, quit stalling, I’m so wet it’s uncomfortable El, need you to clean me up.” She groaned at your words and immediately kneeled down on the floor wasting no time slipping your panties to the side and burying her face between your legs. You’d think she hadn’t eaten for days with the way she was sucking you dry, your clit throbbing in her lips as her fingers teased your entrance. She knew your body better than you did, not even having to search for the spongy spot inside of you that made your insides turn to liquid. It was so easy she was chuckling into you as your hips ground themselves into her. Her tongue was her paint brush and your pussy was her artwork as she swirled it around every inch of you, she’d swap from flattening her tongue and almost making out with your cunt to small kitten licks that had you keening and whimpering. Her fingers curled as they pumped in and out of you, each time she’d hit your g-spot you’d jolt and gasp, the feeling was so intense you wanted to squirm away but she had you tightly pulled against her with her free hand gripping onto your hip hard enough there’d be faint oval bruises in her hands absence. “Oh fuck, right there baby, I’m so close, shit-” With a long, harsh suckle on your clit, her tongue working circles around it at the same time, it seemed to be the only occasion where she could multi-task, your body tensed with your release, your hips bucking onto her fingers as you ride out your high. “Ah fuck- OW!” You suddenly exclaim cutting yourself off mid-moan. Ellie quickly jumped up to face you, her lips and chin shiny with your slick that looked comical against her panicked expression. 

“Babe what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Fuck I’m sorry-” 

“No, no you didn’t do anything. You were fucking amazing but I- I think I got a splinter in my ass.” You admit shamefully. 

“No you fucking didn’t, oh my god turn around, let me see.” She couldn’t contain her laughter even as you frowned at her while hopping off the table and turning away from her. She pressed a hand to your back, bending you over the table and gently easing your underwear down your thighs as she inched close enough to your behind that you could feel her breath tickling your cheeks. 

“Ellie stop being a perv, is there a splinter?” 

“Ohh yeah, big one too, could see it from a mile away.” 

“Why is your nose practically touching my ass then?” 

“Because it’s really pretty.” You could practically hear the smirk in her voice before she made a sorrowful attempt at whistling that just sounded like air escaping through a slightly cracked window. You laughed and she smacked at your uninjured ass-cheek lightly. 

“Ellie! Get the fucking splinter out!” 

“Alright, alright. Ruining my fun you are.” 

“I’m gonna ruin you when this splinter is out of my ass.” 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” 

“Both you heathen now hurry up!” She chuckled before quickly but gently removing the splinter earning a satisfied hum from you as you returned upright and faced her, unamused at her childish glee while inspecting the splinter between her thumb and index finger. 

“So errr we should probably varnish this table or sand it or something before we move in here. Wouldn’t want Clem getting hurt.” Ellie declares. 

“Oh yeah this is sooo about Clem and not just you imagining railing me nine ways to sunday on here.” You raise your eyebrows at her, you knew Ellie was thinking about making sure Clem didn’t get any splinters, but you also knew that wasn’t the reason for her comment. You were the one that worried about things like that, she was the one that would throw Clem over her head high enough that you’d gasp and scold her for how close Clem’s head was to hitting the ceiling. You frowned as she seemed completely unphased by your remark only staring at the splinter still. 

“I’m keeping this, it’s a memento.” 

“Ellie so help me god-” 

“Relax babe, someone’s prickly.” She hunched over with laughter as you simply rolled your eyes and redressed yourself. 

“You’re so unfunny.” 

“Why are you always laughing then?” 

“I really don’t like you right now.” 

“Hey that’s not fair, I just made you cum in under like five minutes, that’s gotta be a record, be nice to me.” 

“I’ll be nice to you when you drop the fucking splinter.” Without hesitation she turned away from you and hurled the splinter towards the front door. 

“See, it’s gone, now kiss me woman.” She shut her eyes and puckered up her lips dramatically while making loud smooching sounds. 

“You’re lucky I love you.” 

“Doesn’t sound like kissing!” She sang before puckering her lips again to which you relented and pressed your lips against hers, smiling into the kiss as her arms wrapped around your waist. “Goddamn I love you.” You giggled as you stepped away from her and spun round the room, taking in everything you had missed in your frenzied state. So much had happened in such a short space of time but the house, the house looked like it was frozen, everything exactly as you remembered it from before. It just felt right, it felt like home. 

“So er now we’ve christened the place, how about we take a look around?” You suggested, the heat in your cheeks barely subsiding. 

“Oh yeah, I wanna christen each room before we go.” 

“You’re an animal.” She laughed as she followed you all throughout the house until you were in the kitchen, both gazing out of the window above the sink at the field that surrounded the property. The long grass was swaying in the wind, two doves landed on the fence in front of the window and their chirps were a melody you could listen to forever. The sun was beaming making everything look even more vibrant than it already did, the mountains creating the most beautiful backdrop. “Imagine teaching Clemmy all about the animals and how to grow fruit and vegetables in the sun, nothing but quiet all around.” As you spoke you could picture everything in your head like it was already reality. 

“And sitting outside at night, looking at all the stars, looking for constellations.” She spoke into your neck where her face was nestled, her arms wrapped around your front, swaying you both gently. 

“We can read together on the porch, bundle up in winter and have hot chocolate out there while we watch the snow fall.” You add. 

“Teach Clem how to ride the horses, the fields big enough.” 

“Yes! She’ll love running around with all the animals, I bet she’ll love the chickens.” You both chuckle at the notion. 

“She’s gonna make one her pet and then we’ll have a house chicken.” Ellie huffed as if she was already being faced with Clem’s puppy eyes as she clutches the clueless chicken to her chest begging for it to be her pet. 

“Bet she’ll call it Eggbert whether it’s a boy or a girl.” 

“That sounds like something I would do.” 

“That’s exactly my point.” You turn to face her over your shoulder and smile as she purses her lips and nods slowly, her eyes narrowing at your smug face before breaking out into the widest grin. 

“Babe I fucking love it here, I can picture our lives here and everything. You still want this?” She spins you to face her, the smile adorning her features would have been enough to convince you to jump off a cliff if that was what she wanted. 

“More than anything.” 

“Then, as long as Clemmy’s okay with it, we’re moving.” You squeal and press your lips against hers as she squeezes you against her, lifting you from the ground slightly and spinning you around until she staggered to a stop. “Oh fuck I’m dizzy.” She rests her hands on her knees and takes a few deep breaths that have her back visibly rising and falling causing you to chuckle at her playfulness. 

“Okay, we need to look at the fence, the water, the gas and the electric, I’ve got used to some comforts in Jackson that I’m not prepared to give up just yet.” 

“Let’s look at the fence because I don’t know who you think I am babe but I will have no clue about any of the other things.” Ellie stands upright once again, her hands finding their place on her hips as she tilts her head slightly at you. 

“Oh right me neither, that can be a job for Joel and Tommy.” 

“They’ve got their uses.” She grabs your hand and drags you back outside where you both just stand for a minute admiring the view. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 

“Look this can be Clemmy’s room! Maybe you could paint something on her wall for her El!” 

“Fuck yeah but come on you, it’s been a long day and we need our beauty sleep.” You groaned as Ellie ushered you towards the master bedroom, you just wanted to stay and keep fantasising, but Ellie was right, you were tired and you wanted to wake up bright and early to get back to Clementine tomorrow. 

You each slipped off your clothes, you climbed in bed as Ellie cracked the window slightly to let the cool, summer night air breeze into the room. The only sound that could be heard was the faint chirping of crickets and your breaths as you both settle into the bed, cuddling into one another. You looped your arms around Ellie’s waist and pressed your face into her chest as she softly scratched patterns into your back. Your legs entangled with each other's as your heartbeats synced, it was serene and you felt the calmest you had felt in as long as you could remember. It felt almost perfect, but you knew once Clem was here with you both it would be perfect. You breathed in, letting Ellie’s scent linger and blur your senses more as sleep dragged you further into its embrace, she had always smelt of fresh washing that had dried in the summer breeze, it was comforting, everything about her was comforting. Her soft skin moulding against yours, the steady rise and fall of her chest, the way she clutched onto you subconsciously, she was home to you, she was always home to you, even when you weren’t speaking for those years, she still offered the comfort you so desperately craved. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 

“Are you okay?” You didn’t have to look up to know who it was, her voice was etched into your brain, all you wanted to do was leap into her arms and clutch onto her, never letting go but you couldn’t. You had already pushed her away until your time together was blurring memories swirling around your head. You had pushed her away to keep your relationship with your parents but it still wasn’t enough, it was never enough for them. You swore they wanted nothing to do with you, banishing you out of the house because you had got into a fight and refused to divulge why. Ellie was why, and that would’ve only angered them more. 

You had been sitting in the park, reading a book when Petra and Suze had enclosed on you, sitting down by your side with smiles. “Hey bookworm, what ya reading?” Petra questions. 

“Persuasion by Jane Austen, it’s so good, romance books will always have a special place in my heart.” 

“Another romance book huh? We gotta get you out in the real world, Jason’s got his eye on you, you know, we could set you two up.” Suze quirked her eyebrow as you grimaced. 

“As much as that offer is so tempting, I’d rather stab myself in the eye repeatedly than go out with Jason.” 

“What? What’s wrong with him?” He’s a guy and he’s not Ellie, you missed her every minute of everyday, Petra and Suze were a nice distraction but they were nothing like Ellie, you just wanted Ellie. 

“I don’t know, I’m just not interested in him like that, he’s so full of himself, there wouldn’t be enough room in the relationship with me and his huge ego.” They both giggled at your harsh tone. 

“Well that’s fair.” Silence settled around you as you watched the scenery, people-watching had always been one of your favourite pass-times but you found yourself doing it more now you were constantly searching for the auburn hair you used to run your fingers through, you had convinced yourself you’d seen her this time, that wasn’t a part of your imagination like it often was but Petra’s words confirmed you had actually been seeing her this time. 

“Ugh there goes the town dyke. God she’s so fucking weird.” 

“I know right, why would they even let her in? Throw her to the wolves I say.” Suze snickered and everything went red, your ears rang and your vision blurred, you only remember being yanked off of Suze as Petra lay just a foot away wheezing and coughing, cursing you under her breath. 

Your parents had screamed, thrown things at you, yanked you by their iron grip around your wrists to barricade you in your room when you refused to explain why you had so viciously attacked the girls that were supposed to be your friends. You sobbed and sobbed until you heard your dad shifting whatever he had used to keep your bedroom door shut tightly. He didn’t speak, didn’t look you in the eye, just dragged you out of your room and straight outside where he shut the door after uttering. “Find somewhere else to sleep tonight.” That was it. You were on your own and the rain that started to pour from the heavens mirrored your mood as you wandered aimlessly until your legs grew weak and you collapsed by a tree, desperately hoping it would shelter you from the torrential downpour. 

“Hey I said are you okay?” Ellie nudged your shoe with hers as you sniffled and spared a glance up at her only to bury your head back into your knees that you were holding to your chest with a small shake of your head. “Why are you outside in this weather? You’re gonna get sick. Go home.” Her tone wasn’t nasty but it wasn’t soft and sweet like it used to be with you, it was a slap on the cheek that you thoroughly deserved. 

“I can’t” You weakly whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear, she kneeled down and stroked a hand down your hair, beckoning you to meet her worried gaze. 

“They kick you out again?” 

“Mhm.” 

“What was the reason this time?” 

“I fucked up Petra and Suze and I wouldn’t tell them why, they love Petra and Suze more than me so they’re really pissed.” 

“Why’d you fight them?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” You wouldn’t meet her eyes, you just stared off into the distance, occasionally hiccupping as a result of your sobbing. 

“Get up.” 

“Just leave me alone please Ellie.” She was too painful of a reminder of how alone you were, you’d rather be actually alone than in her presence. 

“Just get up, c’mon. You’re not sleeping out here tonight. If you get struck by lightning I’ll feel kinda responsible.” Her tone was lighter than it had been and you chuckled slightly as you took her hand and let her pull you from the ground, immediately turning on her heel and letting you trail along behind her back to her home. You considered just disappearing from your place behind her, you doubted that she would notice before you were long gone as she seemed to avoid looking at you like she’d turn to stone if she did. 

Her garage was exactly as you’d remembered it with a couple new additions to the trinkets that littered every surface and wall. You had always loved it here, it was so much more inviting than your home. You used to let yourself in and immediately flop down on her sofa like you owned the place but now you just stood by the door, shivering and fidgeting unsure of what to do from here. Ellie was busy at her makeshift kitchen, milling through cupboards and drawers. 

“Have you eaten?” She turned to face you for the first time since she had found you and frowned at your uncomfortable demeanour. “Just sit down or something, you’re making me feel weird just looking at you.” She snapped, immediately regretting it as you flinched and dragged yourself to the sofa like she’d throw you out if you hadn’t. “Sorry, have you eaten?” 

“I’m fine.” 

“That’s not what I asked though is it? Have you eaten? Yes or no?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Fucking liar.” She bit her lip as your eyes flashed to hers, guilt painted all over your features. She couldn’t see you like this, it was too hard to not just wrap you in her arms and tell you everything would be okay, that she’s here for you, you wouldn’t let her do that and she couldn’t let herself so she just turned back towards the kitchenette and began making some dinner for you both. “You know where my clothes are, don’t sit in those wet clothes, if you wanna take a shower to warm up you can.” 

“I’m-” 

“For fuck’s sake can you stop being so fucking stubborn and just take care of yourself? Go warm up and put on some dry clothes.” She sniped leading you to rush away from her and into the bathroom without another word. “Shit.” She muttered as the bathroom door slammed shut, she was kicking you while you were down and she felt horrible but she couldn’t control herself around you, if she could she would’ve pretended she hadn’t seen you earlier and kept walking. She heard the shower turn on and faintly through the pattering of the water she heard sniffles and choked sobs that led her to press her ear to the door trying to listen in closer. It was clear as day, the sound of your sobs that you thought the shower muffled, her heart clenched and her skin itched as it felt like it was constricting around her, choking the air out of her. She stayed at the door, just listening, she knew she should’ve given you privacy but she felt glued to the wood separating you both, she only moved when the sound of the soup bubbling beckoned her over to turn the heat on the cooker down. She went to go back to the door but the sound of the shower turning off sent her leaping in the complete opposite direction, sitting at her desk and forcing herself to keep her eyes planted on the comic that had been resting atop as you walked out in a towel, her towel and shuffled over to the drawers where she kept her pyjamas.  

She dished up the soup and handed you a bowl wordlessly before going back to the desk to eat hers, the tension was palpable between the both of you, the only sound filling the room being small metallic clinks of your spoons hitting the bowls over and over again as you scraped the remnants of the soup from the bowl. “Sorry it’s not much.” 

“Thank you Ellie.” You walked over to her and took her bowl going to the sink to wash them up for her, it was the least you could do. 

“You can take the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

“No I’m not taking your bed too.” 

“Just-” She went to snap but sucked in a breath and calmed herself down. “Just take the bed, please.” You breathed deeply before nodding your head and skulking over to the bed where you had once stayed almost every other night, climbing in cautiously, subconsciously crawling over to ‘your’ side of the bed. 

“Thanks, night Ellie.” 

“Night.” It didn’t take long for sleep to overtake you, you were exhausted and your head was pounding, sleep providing the much-needed reprieve from the emotions of the day. 

The first thing your eyes focused on as you woke was Ellie’s sleeping form on the sofa, curled up under a blanket, her face was peaceful, washed of the scowl that typically took over her features around you now. Suddenly everything hit you like a brick and it felt like the air was getting sucked out of you as you rushed to change back into your clothes and get out of there as quickly and as quietly as possible. You were out of the door in under five minutes and the guilt only weighed you down with every step you took away from Ellie. She had been kind and helped you in a time of need and you ran off without a word. You didn’t know what you would say, how you could face her, it was too painful, going back to your home and facing the wrath of your parents would be kinder to your heart than staying with Ellie any longer. 

Ellie woke, eyes immediately scanning the room for you but as soon as she noticed you were gone without a warning, without a goodbye, she felt like she was losing you all over again and her eyes welled with tears as she pressed her face into her palms and cried softly. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 

“Hi baby! Oh we missed you, did you have fun with Uncle Jesse and Auntie Dina?” You squeezed Clem to your chest until you heard a little squeak leave her lips prompting you to release her and tuck a loose strand of her soft waves behind her ear. 

“Yes! Uncle Jesse showed me how to play catch and Auntie Dina helped me make cookies, I have some to bring home!” Clem beamed before Ellie scooped her up and spun her around, eliciting giggles from the small girl. 

“Aren’t you a lucky girl? Say thank you kiddo.” Ellie pressed a sweet kiss to Clem’s cheek as she propped her on her hip and bounced her slightly. 

“Thank you! You guys are the best.” Clem’s happiness rubbed off on all of you as you all chuckled. You both thanked them profusely before leaving to go to Joel’s, you wanted to thank him in person also and you needed to discuss the move with him. 

As you walked, Clem in the middle of you both, gripping onto your hands, she rambled and rambled about her time away from you both until she hummed quietly, signalling she was done. “Can you swing me? Can we swing? Can we, can we? Pleaseee.” You and Ellie both smiled at her before swinging her into the air from her arms. She’d do a jump into it each time and giggled sweetly as she soared through the air between you both. By the time you reached Joel’s, yours and Ellie’s arms ached and Clem seemed tired and subdued, her tiredness only being confirmed as you entered Joel’s and she immediately took herself to the sofa to lay down instead of running straight outside to her playset. 

“Hi Joel, thanks so much for watching her yesterday. Didn’t give you too much trouble did she?” 

“Oh not at all, she was an angel as always, how was your trip?” You and Ellie glanced at each other before beaming at him. 

“It was perfect, you gotta see this house Joel, it’s a farmhouse with a fence around the property that’s completely intact, it’s got a barn, and the house has a wraparound porch, the view is amazing, it’s perfect.” Ellie rushed out as she sat at his dining table where he had already situated himself. 

“So you wanna move there?” You both nodded hesitantly, anticipating his reaction. “Well me and Tommy will have to get up there, have a look and see if it’s functional, but if ya wanna do this and it’ll make ya happy, I support ya. I heard what happened to Clem the other day.” He didn’t have to finish his sentence, you all understood what he was saying. It seemed you had outgrown Jackson and he wanted you to be happy, he wanted Clem to be happy and carefree. “We’ll all pitch in and get ya up there.” 

“Thank you Joel, we can’t tell you how much we appreciate this.” Your voice croaked slightly as you tried to hold in the tears of joy that welled in your eyes. 

“Well I can see this makes ya happy and that’s all I want.” 

“You’re really something old man.” Ellie chuckled, a smile so wide you expected her cheeks to ache as she looked between you and him, grabbing your hand and squeezing.  

“You told Clemmy yet?” 

“No actually, we wanted to speak to you first before we told her but we’ll talk to her about it today.” Ellie replied. 

“I’m sure she’ll jump at the idea.” 

“That’s what I said.” You looked to the girl dozing on the sofa as you spoke and everything felt like it was falling into place, your life being mapped out in front of you, the sight making your body buzz with excitement. 

tags: @emiliabby@readbydayana@radioheadfan699@lil-elliesgf@isitadinosaur@amberputh@maelovescashew@a-little-bit-of-everybody@moonspowder@bready101