#just trim his hair and get rid of the lip color

[of-many-fandomss]

And one more request, also whenever and if u feel like it, can you write for Sam or dean where reader is very feminine and wears long nails, keeps herself tidy, dresses up etc. But still fights good and intelligent? U can ignore this if it’s not fitting! Thank you again!

I decided to write it for Dean, I hope that’s okay :)

—————

The demon before you had the audacity to laugh- a full blown, doubling over, holding onto your stomach- laugh. And that only made your blood boil even more than it already was.

You and your boyfriend, Dean, were on a hunt in a small town a little bit away from the bunker when you had gotten a tip-off of some demonic activity going on in the area.

When the two of you had been able to track it down to an abandoned warehouse it was staying at, you had split up- you going in the front, Dean going around back. And with your luck, of course the demon found you first.

He had taken one look at you, dressed up with your hair done nicely and nails trimmed with a pretty color, and genuinely thought someone was pulling a prank on him. He had known that there were hunters trying to get rid of him, but you were the last person he had expected to see show up.

Ever since you were thrown into the hunters lifestyle, you had been kind of revolted by the lack of hygiene that came with most of the people in your line of work, and had decided not to be like that. You would actually put the effort into making yourself look presentable because it made you feel good by doing so.

It also- whether you knew it or not- deep down reminded you that hunting didn’t have to define your life. You could still be a person outside of the demons and werewolves, you could still be a normal human.

Your lip curled up in disgust as you watched the demon make fun of you for the way you dressed, “I’m more than just a pretty face,” You sneered before taking three giant strides across the room and stabbing him in the stomach with your demon blade before he knew what was happening.

He let out a terrible scream before his host body fell limply to the ground, and Dean came charging into the room, only to find you standing over the demon, the job already done.

A proud grin spread across his face as he relaxed his stance and made his way over to you, “That’s my girl,” He praised, swinging and arm over your shoulder and planting a kiss on the side of your head.

You giggled slightly, “Come on,” You said playfully, “I’m beginning to reek of demon.”

[nvrcmplt]

The transformation to something familiar had something warm spread inside Darius. He took in the new dye job, the way the short locks looked fluffy and bounced when Lance laughed.

"Haha! Missed me?"

Darius' expression turned into something soft, a small tilt of lips, eyes a bit more hooded. "Yeah," he breathes, nearly sighs. He's over next to Lance with a few steps, hand reaching over to brush a few of the locks back, watching them settle in place again with soft flutters. "I did miss you." Bright eyes take in the familiar details, the piercings, the colors, everything, inching forward slowly from one detail to another. Pupils having grown in size just slightly, when he finally looks his roommate properly in the eye again, affection. "Welcome back..."

Strange, wasn't it? To be seen with something he tried to get rid of to 'start clean, start fresh' someone will hire him for his more normal, look - no piercings or fire engine red hair but the boring brown and dull… It didn't work out and the facade of being a 'good boy' for a job wasn't as great as he thought. So now, that he was out of that cage, not needing to look outside the bars with longing he found himself in higher spirits. After all, being free in his expression of self was always his top priority. Even in Juvie, he always asked for hair dyes, got his roots done through the care takers there - he didn't need the chemicals to fight with or anything. It kept him out of trouble and he was rewarding to have red locks until the later months inside.

Amusement of the past though bled away as he looked up at his roommate, the way he looked at him really made his lashes flutter for a moment before his cheeks pinken at it all. Just - something about this Darcy really made his chest flutter, stomach twist - it was something he couldn't put a finger on really but he didn't need to, did he? It was comfortable here. In the others sole attention, fixated like a piece of art on the wall. Their gaze made his own soften, his head tilts into the palm that ruffled the newly cut strands and it was enough to make even him crack a smile.

Soft and sweet.

Shared for just the two of them.

"I'm home." He couldn't deny it felt good to say, even lowering his head a touch to nudge the other's hand that lingered near his head and snorted with a growing grin. "Thanks for the help, Darcy. Made me feel like new again." A skill he learned over time, the pair of them - pretty good with scissors for on the run hair cuts. It was a death sentence to have lice and mats in the outside world. A buzz cut for Juvie too wasn't the best feeling after so long of looking after themselves but needs must.

"Shall we trim yours?" A hand rose from his side, releasing towel to instead grasp a strand of the other's blond hair. A little tug to tease, since Darcy didn't really need one being so well groomed and the way it fell on his head. It wasn't a mess nor a bob cut but it just suited the guy no matter what he did. Natural colour too!

[youtuberswithalex]

ok but  F28 Ken BMR1959 would make a PERFECT virgil vengier

[simpfiles]

Cock Warmer (smut)

request.       I can't believe I'm even admitting this but I want Silco's hands in my hair and his thighs crushing my head while he begs for my tongue to go deeper - anon

a/n.      yeah baby!! imagine being a bratty cock warmer so he punishes you with a face fuck. i've been meaning to write a fic like this for silco for a while so this was the perfect excuse.

taglist.   @sweatandwoe, @agoutighost, @frugi7, @intpthinkinginquiet, @ouranxiousheart, @nunanuggets, @holysmokesblog​

There’s a sheet over the middle opening of his desk, put up by Jinx years ago because she liked the privacy and closeness of working in the crawlspace next to Silco. As she got older, she out grew its use but neither ever bothered to get rid of it and the tapestry featuring her jagged scrawls became part of his office décor.

Enter you.

The space underneath his desk is not a tight fit but one that would grow uncomfortable for prolong periods of time. You guide Silco’s cock into your mouth, sucking the head out its foreskin and rolling your tongue over it. Immediately, his hand settles on the back of your head.

“Behave, lovely.” he mutters -- his voice seems almost bored but you can feel him hardening in your mouth, the head of his cock reaching the back of your throat against your tongue and you swallow to keep from gagging. His thighs twitch and you smile around your mouthful, relaxing your jaw to get comfortable.

There is intimacy in the mundane. The sound of Silco’s pen against paper, he writes in short bursts, taking time to draft his words mentally before committing them to ink. Sometimes he’ll mumble the syllables, barely moving his lips and repeating key sounds while trading out unfit words. You take a deep breath through your nose and relax your jaw further, saliva pooling behind your lips as you let your eyes slip close and force the tension out of your shoulders. He smells of musk and soap, and very faintly of sweat -- a clean, masculine smell. Though you can’t identify his chosen words, you imagine he’s whispering them just for you.

He shifts forward to snub out his cigar, his cock bumping against your soft palate. Your throat flutters and you swallow convulsively, earning a soft gasp from Silco’s lips. His hand returns to your head, stroking gently. You can feel he’s about to say something but falls short at the sound of a someone knocking on his door.

Immediately you try to move away but his hand keeps you in place, pushing you deeper til trim pubes tickle your nose, pressed against his flesh. “Shhh,” he chides, voice even and calm as he strokes your hair. Your eyes widen when his voice calls out “Come in.”

Sevika crosses the threshold with no formalities between them, only business. Names of important people and the numbers that are important to those important people. It’s all very boring and your eyes start wandering, straining to make out the details of a small carving etched into the grand wood of his desk. You turn pull back once more for a better view and once more Silco’s hand is in your hair, tightening his grip. Looking up you find a disapproving frown on his features and choke back a distressed noise, wanting to climb out of your throat. “I told you to behave.”

Skepticism mixed with confusion colors Sevika’s expression as her gaze turns to the sheet. “Jinx still plays there?”

He shrugs uncommittedly, rolling his eyes with frustration, indicating he had no interest lingering on the subject. “Is that all?”

“Yeah, that’s all.” She takes the hint and leaves promptly, shutting the door on her way out.

Your jaws aches by the time his grip relents at her absence and you make another little sound. His features hardly soften, eyes calculating with disappointment evident. “I should punish you for disobeying me.”

Looking up at him through soft eyelashes, you swallow once more, tongue sliding up the underside of his shaft. Silco inhales sharply, ecstatic by your defiant stance. Punishment it is.

Winding his hand in your hair, he drags you down until he knows you can taste every inch of him. Not one for a quick blow, he gets off on snapping his hips forward and burying himself as deep as he can. Drool drips down your chin and smears onto his thigh as he holds you in place with his thighs.

"You're being an petulant brat." he hiss, watching you choke. His eyes dart to your hand moving towards your crotch and steps down on it with his heel. "Don't even think about touching yourself."

You moan around him and a smile, far from kind, spreads cross his lips. Rolling his hips, he guides his cock down your throat, growing more frustrated and aggressive the closer he got. Each brutal push of his hip has you grasping for support, his heel still firmly planted on your hand, you claw at his thigh with your other for support, fresh tears flowing from your eyes as it became increasingly difficult to breathe.

For as long as you've known Silco, you've never heard him curse. Not even the tamest of swears has tainted his vernacular or entertained his lips. But you swear, short of oxygen and gaging on his cock, you hear him mutter a shaky "fuck" followed by panting, "that's it, lovely. Deeper, dear, keep going. I'm close."

Just as you feel you might collapse, he releases you and pulls out, his cock slick with your spit and tears, a trail of saliva connecting his tip with your lips. Silco grits his teeth, finishing himself off as sticky wet stripes of cum land coat your cheeks and mouth. You manage to get your eyes close but don't dare close your mouth until he smears the last of his cum on your bottom lip with the head of his cock.

"Better." he says, smugly satisfied. Gently, he wipes away some of his cum that landed near your eye with his thumb, then pushes it into your mouth. "Swallow," he orders, and you do. "Good girl."

--

Two stories below, Sevika is setting up for another round of cards. When out of the corner of her eye she sees Jinx enter the bar.

[silkenstarlight]

in the softest hours of night

Summary: Bucky gets a haircut and (Y/N) helps him to fully wrench himself from the clutches of his past.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warning/s: fluff, cuddling, kissing, mention of Bucky’s past trauma

Word count: 1.6k

Author’s note: this made me feel very soft

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The sound of Bucky singing in the shower always made you smile.

He didn’t know that you could hear him from your spot in the bedroom. Sometimes, you considered telling him that you were his audience, when the guilt crept in and you felt as if you were intruding on a private moment. 

But, most times, you chose to lie beneath the blankets and listen. 

You could only ever make out fragments of lyrics-- tonight, he was singing Gene Sullivan. 

“When my blue moon turns to gold again… you'll be back in my arms to stay.”

It was soft and tentative, his breathy, murmured syllables of blues-y jazz and swinging pop bouncing off the tiles with a sweet, echoing reverberation. He seemed to weave in between thought and song, quietly uttered lyrics often followed by a long period of silence before he picked the melody up again at the next chorus. Sometimes, his words were rushed and garbled, as if he were leaning into the shower head’s stream to wash shampoo-scented suds from his hair. Other times, he embraced the song head-on, crooning confidently into the clouds of steam, as if he were imagining brazen trumpets and thrumming drumbeats backing his vocals. 

Whenever his volume crescendoed like that, you couldn’t help the smile that broke across your face. He sounded so peaceful, so free, when for the past several decades, he had been the prisoner of his own mind. His singing was a small thing, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

You heard the water turn off and you turned onto your side, burrowing into the sheets and wiping any evidence of eavesdropping from your face.

A few seconds later, you heard his feet padding against the hardwood, and you turned to face him, smiling sleepily. He was bare, save for the white towel wrapped around his hips, minuscule water droplets rolling off of his muscled body with every step. His shoulder-length hair was drenched, framing his face in a slicked chestnut curtain. 

He reached the dresser and pulled out the top drawer, picking out a clean pair of boxers. He slipped them on beneath the cover of the towel, and you smirked at his unnecessary, but courteous, sense of modesty. You had seen him naked before, but he still preferred to stay covered in nonsexual situations such as this. So traditional.

He unwrapped the towel from around his waist and tossed it in the dirty laundry bin, and then walked over to your side of the bed. You reached up to him and he eagerly climbed on top of you, grinning as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

You stayed like that for a moment, even though his wet hair slid against your jaw and his weight crushed the breath from your lungs. You didn’t care that you couldn’t breathe. You loved it when he was mellow. He was his truest self when he was at his most vulnerable, his eyes crinkling at the edges with affection, his lips turned upward in a toothy smile that stole your breath and colored your cheeks a rosy pink.

He shifted, pushing up to rest his forehead against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut before he pressed his mouth lightly against yours in a delicate gesture of warmth, his lips warm and soft. His hair fell against your face, brushing against your skin and tickling your cheeks.

You broke the kiss, dipping your chin down and giggling. You opened your eyes to meet his gaze.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“Hi,” Bucky repeated back, his voice low, his tone similar to the one he used when he sang quietly in the shower. He returned your smile, until more of his hair slid down, blocking his vision of your face. He pushed it back with a dissatisfied grunt and frowned slightly.

He sighed. “Would you-- would you mind braiding my hair for me?” He raised his eyebrows questioningly, sitting up. “I don’t like the weight of it all. My hair, I mean.”

You sat up as well, instantly understanding the dual meaning behind his request. He wanted the hair out of his face, yes, but he also loathed the identity that was tied to it, the decades of mindless, brainwashed life that it represented. He hadn’t trimmed it since the forties, his hair an immortalized vision of his pre-war self, an artifact of the abuse he faced at the hands of Hydra. His hair carried the weight of a lifetime.

“Absolutely,” you responded.

He shifted, sitting at the edge of the bed, and you sat behind him, your legs caging him in. Despite the fact that he was almost naked, his modesty preserved by his plaid boxers, he was warm. You leaned into his broad back, savoring the heat that he provided, walking your fingertips lightly up his spine in a teasing gesture before brushing them through his hair.

“Your hair is really soft after you wash it.” Your fingers carded through Bucky’s shoulder-length locks, fingernails lightly scraping against his scalp. You brushed through the wet strands, gently untangling a few nasty snarls with adept ease.

“Well, I did have to borrow your conditioner. Hope that’s okay.” Bucky said quietly, his back to you as you separated his freshly-washed hair into three sections.

“I don’t mind,” you mumbled, pushing your tongue between your teeth as you began to concentrate on the braid. “Makes you smell good.”

He scoffed. “Did I not smell good before?”

You paused, strands held loosely in your fingers. “I-- well, yes.”

He huffed a laugh, but was silent after that, enjoying the dull tug as you weaved his hair into a neat plait. 

You were reaching the end of the braid when a thought crossed your mind. You paused, still grasping the three separate sections, and looked at the back of Bucky’s head.

“You know, Bucky,” you said, voice gentle. “We could cut your hair, if it bothers you this much.”

He paused, breath stalling, and considered what you said. Although he hated the years of violence attached to his hair, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to completely sever it from him. So much pain, so much history, snipped off and swept away in the blink of an eye-- he wasn’t sure who he would be without it. He surely wouldn’t be the same man as he was before all of this, so smug and cocksure, so smooth-talking and suave, the perfect image of 1940’s lady-killing swagger. But, he also wasn’t sure if that even mattered. That was who he was before. Now, he had lived through years of torture, decades of service as a trained assassin. He didn’t know who he was anymore. Maybe a fresh start would do him some good.

“Can we?” His voice cracked, throat tight with a sudden urgent need to bid farewell to his past incarnations.

“Do you want to do it now?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Go into the bathroom. I’ll find the scissors.”

Bucky followed your orders, reaching back to undo the braid you had so carefully woven. Silken, freshly-washed strands slipped through his fingers until he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, waiting for you to rid him of this long-held burden. He stared at his reflection, the tired, light purple crescents that shaded beneath his eyes, the natural down-turned tug of his lips, the deep, worried crease between his brows. A hard knot of self-hatred began to form in his throat, but he swallowed it as he heard you approach the bathroom.

You slipped behind Bucky, scissors in hand, and tapped his shoulder. At your signal, he knelt, folding his arms in front of him and leaning his head against the counter to allow you easier access to his hair. 

“You ready?” you asked, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

“Absolutely,” he said, nodding slightly, granting you permission to proceed.

You combed through his locks one last time, savoring their slippery, soft texture, their bristly split-ends. And then, you grasped a large section from the back and snipped.

You watched as the hair fluttered to the tiled floor below. Bucky smiled.

“Keep going,” he encouraged.

Slowly, you began to cut away more and more sections of hair, trying your best to avoid creating any harsh, choppy lines. You weren’t a hairdresser by any means, though, so once the bulk of the length had been cut away, Bucky’s hair was a haphazard mess.

“Oh, god,” you breathed, shakily placing the scissors on the counter. “We’ll have to make an appointment with a hairdresser tomorrow.”

He stood, brushing stray strands from his shoulders. “That’s fine.” He turned towards you, not bothering to look at his reflection. “Just wanted to get rid of the length.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, whether in shock at his new appearance, or in embarrassment at your amateur handiwork, you couldn’t tell. But he just wrapped his arms around you, hugging you to his chest as you both shook with laughter. 

He leaned back, reaching up to your face and tucking your hair behind your ear. “Let’s go to bed.”

You nodded and let him lead you back into the bedroom, turning off the bedside lamp and climbing under the sheets after him. He settled on his back and you wrapped yourself around him, tucked into his side, breathing in his fresh, soapy scent. 

“Goodnight, doll,” he breathed, and you kissed his ribcage before letting his breathing lull you into the gentle space of sleep. 

He simply smiled and stared up at the ceiling, a decades-old weight suddenly lifted from his neck. No longer did he feel the tendrils of his past slithering against his neck with every movement.

So this is what it’s like, to be free. 

He sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, tugging you just a little closer as he drifted to sleep.

[shoutogepi]

My Number One Hero

┌───────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ─────────┐

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 4.6k

[ ✘ (𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰!), ☀︎ ]  smut with a sweet, savory aftertaste

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : dom!shouto, temperature play, edging, dirty talk, choking, begging, light degradation, cock/body worship, creampie

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : After months of careful planning and preparation, you finally get the chance to make your move on your favorite Pro Hero, Shouto. Upon learning you’re his biggest fan, he decides to give you the VIP experience by offering to accompany you to your hotel room for the night.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : i said a smut, smut, smutty smut. smut smut smutitty smut. feels like it’s been a while since i’ve written porn without plot! i guess this has a little story, though, so it’s not just complete sin ;)

└───────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ──────��──┘

  ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅂irens echo in the distance, faraway blaring interrupting the otherwise serene, chilly night. You can hear them through the open window as soon as you slip inside the room, having left it open hours ago when you made your way to the hotel bar; the very place that you would lay in wait for the target of your affection to arrive.

Lady Luck has smiled fortunately upon you tonight— it's all you could really ask for, at this point. You had done your research— you’d flown in for the Hero conference, booked your room in the same hotel that hosted the event, and even figured out his itinerary for the weekend. How you had managed to actually convince him to return to your room with you, you aren’t exactly sure, but you also don't really give a damn for logistics. Not when the telltale click of the lock turning sounds, and it’s just the two of you, finally alone.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Then he’s pressing your body into the back of the door. Strong hands seize your waist and thread into the hair at the base of your neck, pulling your head back so he can lean down and smother your lips with his. You let out a moan, receptive of his sudden onslaught of kisses. His tongue runs across your bottom lip before it parts the seam of your mouth, stroking yours in greeting. Your head is clouded with lust, everything about the man simply addictive. You’ve idolized him for so long, fantasized about him endlessly. And now that you’re given the chance, you’re going to absolutely worship him.

Before you know it, the kiss becomes frantic. His grip on you tightens, crushing your body between his powerful, slender frame and the solid wood of the door. A lean, muscled thigh splits your legs as he presses himself against you, like he’s desperate for every inch of your bodies to touch, to grind against each other. Your tongue tangles with his, your fingers coiled in his silky, dual-colored hair.

As he lets out a particularly throaty groan, your hips buck and your core brushes against the sinews of his sturdy quad, your head falling back to thump against the door while you moan out his name in response. “S-Shouto— mmph~”

His lips claim yours again, leaning down so he can force your mouths together harder as he flexes the muscle and rubs it between your legs a few more times before pulling back. You gasp as his hands unlatch from their rough grasp on you and instead grab onto the back of your thighs, long fingers curling into your plush flesh as he yanks you into the air. Your legs wrap around his waist automatically, your arms tightening around his neck and fingers fisting his hair roughly. You share a moan between kisses, mouths slotting to move in sync with one another as his feet begin to navigate toward the bed.

Somehow in the dark of your hotel room, he manages to stumble his way to his destination. The mattress creaks under your shared weight, your breath escaping you as your back hits the comforter, hair flying to fan out around your face. The moonlight illuminates his face, your heart rate picking up as you take in his strikingly handsome features. Without thinking, you reach out and run your fingertips along the edge of his jaw, eyes focused on the way your thumb catches over his lip. When you look back into his eyes, you find yourself pinned with his ardent gaze— the stray beams from the moon’s glow making his two-toned eyes look like galaxies with the sole intent to devour you whole. You can barely contain the wanton moan that dares to sound when he pulls the zip down the front of his hero suit, shrugging the material off and then tearing his undershirt over his head to reveal his chiseled torso to your wide, appreciative eyes. He allows a moment for your gaze to flit over every inch of shredded muscle, making sure you trace down his adonis belt and bite your lip before he speaks, confidence clear as day and ever-growing.

“Enjoying the view, my little fan?” Shouto rumbles, the hand that’s not supporting himself moving to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, then sliding down to rest threateningly on the column of your throat when you don’t respond.

You nod, unable to speak, tongue poking out to wet your lips as your hips wiggle underneath his narrow ones. Your legs are still locked around his waist, pulling his body flush against yours without any room for argument.  

He sighs and ducks his head into your neck, releasing his grip and allowing you to breathe as his lips start to plant wet kisses over the skin his fingers had just dug into. “As am I,” he groans when he rips your blouse open, the buttons flying from the seams and tinkling all across the hardwood floor. His eyes light up at the sight before him, not even acknowledging the intricate white brasserie that hides your tits from his gaze, eyes purely wandering across the swell of your cleavage and the soft skin of your stomach. It takes him a moment to realize your choice of undergarments, the white lace accented with a deep scarlet on the trim. He chuckles lowly, cocking a brow as a smirk lifts his lips. “Well you came prepared, didn’t you?”

“Just for you,” you manage to squeak out, still battling your shock that the Pro Hero is even here in your hotel room with you, let alone the fact that you can feel his hard cock pressing against your cunt through your clothes.

He ruts his hips experimentally against yours as a reward, savoring the whimper that slithers out of you and the way your legs squeeze around his waist, back arching off the bed. “That’s right, love,” the pet name sends shivers through your body, lashes fluttering against your cheekbones as you pant, “you did say you’re my number one fan, didn’t you?”

Your fingers dig into the sheets when he begins to kiss your neck again, warm lips trailing down to the tops of your breasts. “Yes,” you gasp, his teeth peeling the rim of your bra down, nose rubbing over the sensitive skin of your areola. “And you’re my— my number one h-hero, Shouto, ahh~” His hot tongue rolls over your nipple, taking the perked bud into his mouth and swirling it around playfully. The sensation makes your head spin, his hands coming to knead at your soft breasts. His thumb swipes back and forth across your other nipple, stimulating you further. Despite the generous attention he gives to your chest, your core itches for the delicious friction his hips provided again, trembling and leaking into your panties.

As if he’s reading your mind, he shuffles back onto his knees, making you feel small and prey-like under his sizzling stare while he tears your pants down your legs. You can feel his eyes taking in every inch of skin revealed, especially when he zeroes in on the wet line staining the middle of your panties, which match your bra and also sport his distinct red and white. Once the offensive material is rid of your body, he pauses as his eyes linger on your covered cunt, licking his lips. But then he gets off the bed, choosing to stand next to the edge of the mattress. “Get up, then,” he instructs, “Come show me I’m your number one with that pretty little mouth of yours.”

Your body is up and following his command within seconds, eager to please. Your knees hit the floor as you settle yourself so you’re hovering over his foot, face just a short distance from the part of him that’s entertained your late-night thoughts for months on end now. Tentatively, you place a kiss to the front of his pants, just underneath his belt buckle. Heat floods your cheeks when your lips touch the length of his hard cock through his clothing and it twitches in response, your hands drifting up the inside of his thighs on their own accord. Then they’re undoing his belt and zipper, restlessly tugging the cloth down his pale, solid thighs. You leave his pants at his knees, impatient to have him in your mouth already while you slide his briefs down to meet his pants.

Shouto chuckles darkly when his cock springs out of its confines, your expression revealing your shock and intimidation as you eye his impressive member. But lust dominates your hesitance almost immediately, your eyelids falling to half mast as you open your mouth and lick a long stripe along the underside of his cock, from balls to tip. His hand flies to your head, digits gripping your hair when you take the swollen, leaking head into your mouth.

Your tongue washes at the bitter pre-cum that’s pearled at his tip, sucking gently as you start to sink deeper onto his cock. If you could, you would smile at the choked sputter that Shouto makes. Settling yourself into position, your hips rock forward and your panties drag across the smooth rubber of the white boots he dons with his hero suit. You moan, his cock halfway lodged into your throat and vibrating with your noise of pleasure.

“Fuck,” Shouto moans, pulling you off his cock just to rub his wet cockhead across your lips. You open your mouth, tongue extending out to chase his heavy length and slip it back inside. He taps the tip against your outstretched tongue a few times, sliding the hard shaft up and down. “How’s it taste, baby? Does it taste like you’d imagined, hmm? You like having my cock in your mouth?”

You whine, just wanting to swallow him whole at this point, hips still gyrating back and forth to rub your slickening cunt against the top of his foot. “Tastes so good, my hero’s cock tastes so good, so big… please, lemme taste it, make you feel good.”

He bites his bottom lip, letting you take his cock back into your hot, wet mouth. He groans loudly when you ram his length deeper into your throat, nearly taking the whole thing into your mouth in one go. An elongated expletive hisses out of his mouth as he throws his head back, your head beginning to bob up and down his throbbing member. “There you go… just like that, love… that’s right, you look so pretty drooling for me.”

The fingers in your hair slacken their hold, allowing you to work his cock even faster, eagerness more apparent than ever. You’re sucking his dick with vigor, like your only goal in life is to make him cum down your throat. No matter how hard he tries not to show you how affected he is, he can’t help but let out the varied range of moans and sounds of bliss that your blowjob triggers.

Each noise makes your pussy twitch in your panties, the slow grinding against his footwear not doing much to satiate your growing hunger for the hero. Shouto clicks his tongue at the action, and although he tries to sound cool, his voice comes out heavy, affected. “Fuck, you’re even humping my boot, so desperate my little slut…”

His praise only makes you purr on his cock, sucking against his thickness with a smile. Just as you’re getting into a rhythm, Shouto pulls you back by the scalp abruptly, a string of split stretching to connect your lips to his thick cock. He only gives you a second before you’re in his arms again, and then you’re back on the bed, back flat against the comforter and legs peeled apart.

Your heart starts to beat faster, Shouto moving to sit between your legs. He’s naked now, white moonlight cast across his hips and making his erect cock glisten and catch your eye, your legs spreading wider in welcome of the sight. But he only laughs at you, shaking his head as his big palms come to coast up the backs of your legs. “Not yet, my little fan…” he murmurs, “gotta return the favor first.”

One hand wraps around your ankle and he closes his eyes, lips brushing along the front of your shin. Then he looks at you again, casting you a predatory gaze while his fingers creep up your thighs, eventually coming to tug at the soaked material of your panties. Once they’re off from around your ankles, he hums as he inspects the mess inside of them, thumbing over the wet patch whose existence is his complete fault.

“Seems only right for my number one fan to get this sloppy from merely sucking me off..” he comments while toying with your slick, eyes shooting over to yours momentarily. “Wonder how easy it would be to just slip my cock inside of you right now,” he continues, fingers resting on your thigh as his thumb parts your slit, calloused finger pad bumping over your clit and just barely dipping into your drenched hole. It makes you moan and shiver, and he smirks in response. “I think a real hero could get you just a little bit sloppier, though.”

You cry out when his mouth descends on you, warm tongue running up and down your slit. Your hips buck up but Shouto already expects that, his hands slamming them down before they can even lift off the sheets fully. Then he’s sucking at your clit, flicking his tongue against you, and finally diving into your cunt. His forearms cross over your hips as he pulls your hips into his arms, nesting himself between your legs so he can plunge his tongue deep inside of you.

He plays with you til you’re completely soaked, dripping for him and edged to the verge of cumming just from him fingering you one knuckle deep while his tongue flicks across your clit. “Shit, you’re wet for me,” he pants, breath ragged from going down on you for so long he’s starved himself of oxygen, “You fantasize about this or something?”

You give him a look. He only smirks and slides his fingers in deeper, all the way to the knuckles, rough finger pads rubbing along your gummy walls. “Yes,” you purr, pleased with the stimulation, “I only think of you when I touch myself, Shouto. You’re my hero, after all— the only one I want.”

He clicks his tongue and groans at that, leaning down to press a kiss onto your clit. “Just your hero?”

The sheets shuffle as you shake your head quickly, biting the inside of your cheek in anticipation. “M-My number one hero,” you correct yourself breathlessly.

Shouto hums. Then, his tongue dips into the pool of excess slick dripping around his knuckles, dragging the wetness across your bundle of nerves. He teases you and brings you back to the edge once more, this time much quicker than the last as his fingers dig into your insides, curling into you mercilessly. “Don’t even know if you deserve to have my cock in you, baby,” he sighs, eyeing how your hips tremble and follow his hand when he pulls it away. “You’re already about to cum from just this, huh?”

“No,” you deny, moving to unclasp your bra and fling it off to the side. Shouto eyes your naked chest, gaze directing to the jiggle of your soft tits as you gasp for air. “I’ll be so good, Shouto, please— whatever you want.”

He tilts his head, considering your offer. All the while, his slender fingers pump inside you, curving to press against your spongy walls and tickle someplace deep inside of you.

At his silence, you pipe up. Offer an olive branch, so to speak. “I won’t cum until you say so,” you promise, still panting from your latest, denied climax and desperate for more of his touch. “I won’t, just— you can’t touch my clit, please, otherwise I’m gonna— o-ooohh, fuck Shouto~”

He cuts you off by thrusting his fingers inside you knuckle-deep, reaching his long digits and scraping at your velvet insides with tidy fingernails. “You won’t cum,” he parrots amusedly at your determined indignation, “Mmm, baby… you shouldn’t make such promises so lightly… I think you’ve forgotten who exactly is here between your trembling legs.”

You whimper at his response, eyes shutting and nails tearing at the blanket beneath your straining body. “I won’t,” you repeat, sounding almost like you’re trying to convince yourself more than him. “I— I won’t cum, not til you let me, fuck, please Shouto. Need it— anything for your cock inside me, please. Pleaseee.”

“Hmm,” Shouto feigns thought, his digits still pressing into your pussy earnestly. The stimulation has you clenching on him, fluttering around him. But just like you say, you don’t cum on his fingers. Not even when he rocks his hand flush against your mound, long fingers reaching deep, deep inside you and making saccharine-sweet mewls pour from your lips. You take it like a champ, not allowing yourself to climax even when he begins to thrust his fingers rougher inside of you. He relishes your screams when he activates his quirk, digits becoming cold and contrasting against your heated, quivering walls.

“Aha— hnnggg, a-aHAaa Shouto! Oh my god!” You nearly cum when his hot tongue laps at your clit, his fingers still digging just as far into your soaking cunt. It feels so good that you don’t even admonish him for breaking the one rule you’d set; your brain too foggy from the building pleasure in your abdomen. The temperature is a stark contrast to the fingers squelching inside of you, sending you nearly straight off the edge he’s brought you to many times already. You’re much too close, but he wont stop, won’t give you a second to breathe. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease put it in, fuck, please fuck me Sho, please be my hero and stretch me with your fat hero cock, pleaseineeditsofuckingbadddd.”

Then everything stops. His hand retreats, as does his face, and you wail at the loss. You’re hurtling back to earth, feeling like you’re falling through the clouds and the atmosphere as the orgasm you were so close to experiencing fades away. But the bitter comedown only lasts for a second, because then Shouto’s tugging your hips down the sheets so the pink head of his cock presses flush against your dripping entrance. His hips jerk forward and you’re so wet that he enters you effortlessly.

A strangled groan rings the air in the hotel room, and you’re unsure if it was from you, him, or the both of you. His cock is hot and thick, filling your pussy to the brim and stretching you so deliciously. His length spears past the point of comfort, but the ache of penetration feels so terribly good that when you try to find your voice to complain, all that comes out is a long, erotic moan.

Shouto drops onto his elbows, trapping your open legs against the mattress as he begins to fuck you. He growls at the way your cunt suffocates his cock, squeezing and hugging him so well. Placing sloppy kisses on your throat, his thrusts begin to pick up. “Gonna fuck you stupid, love,” he swears as his hot breath fans your neck glistening with his saliva. “Fuck you so good that I’m the only one who can satisfy you— make you mine, my little fan.”

Your reply is a babbling of yeses strung together, eyes rolled back and legs pulling his hips as close to yours as they can. His promise sounds so good, his cock feels even better, and your pussy tightens around him— he’s bringing you to the edge yet again.

He can feel your impending climax, and it only stokes the flames of his ego. He smiles down at your fucked-out expression, but it turns out as more of a snarl. It doesn’t matter— you’re not even looking at him, trying your hardest not to cum right then and there from his ruthless assault on your g-spot. Moving his weight to one arm, he reaches down and starts to rub your clit, taking your nipple between his teeth at the same time and ravishing it with his quirk-cooled tongue.

“That’s cheating!” you sob but it turns into a moan, fingers clenching around his bicep in warning, your body thrumming with waves of building pleasure. Your pussy’s clenching onto him, trying to suck him back inside and milk him for all his worth, your mind too clouded with lust to really do anything in retaliation.

“But you seem to like it when I break your rules,” Shouto replies cooly as he lets your chilled nipple fall from his mouth, continuing to thrust into you, and having the gall to stare daggers directly into your crumbling glare. Each slick, powerful slap of your fronts coming together has your legs wrapping around him, your toes curling in preparation, heels digging into his firm behind. He can tell you’re teetering on the edge— honestly he's surprised you even managed to last this long.

There are tears of pleasure dotting along your lashes. Your hips are widening with every crash of Shouto’s hips against them, your body arching to welcome the ripples of pleasure each rough push against your g-spot produces. Then his fingers pull away from your clit again without warning, and you whine at the loss, orgasm stunted and sliding toward the drain.

“I do,” you gasp, hips jumping to chase his receding ones, and slamming his long length balls-deep inside of you. Shouto groans, pauses, and then grinds his hips and stirs his cock inside of you, teeth seizing his bottom lip hostage and eyes glinting down at you, daring you to say it. You’re so fucking close to just creaming all over his cock that you’re desperate, you don’t care if that’s how you come off in this moment. You need to cum. “I like it— Fuck, I love it, please— please be my hero, Shouto. Please, want you to fuck me and let me milk all the cum out your big hero cock please, I need it, Shouto— pleaseeee, ple—aHHA!”

Shouto savors the way you cry out when he pins the backs of your knees into the comforter, pulling himself up to sheathe his cock inside of you completely, then flattening you with his torso and crushing your hips with his. It’s so deep that it hurts, but the burn of your walls stretching around him makes tremors flutter through your pussy. You look at him through barely-open eyes, arms thrown up and hands digging into the blanket as you share a look of mutual understanding.

You’re absolutely done for.

One. Two. Three strokes of his fat cock inside of you and your cunt is throbbing around him, velvet walls hugging tight as your body shivers in euphoria. Shouto moans as you squeeze him ruthlessly, your body begging for his seed. You’re having an out-of-body experience, writhing with mind-numbing, brain melting ecstasy as Shouto manages to slip out of you partly, then shoves himself back into your soaking pussy just as deep. He swears as your body presses against him as close as possible, your hips hooking to nestle his cock deep inside your pulsing cunt. As if you’re not breathless enough, his rough fingers come to latch around your throat, squeezing the sides so you’re almost choking. Then he’s drilling into you without restraint, fucking you so hard you can feel your ass making an indent in the cheap hotel mattress. It’s everything you’ve dreamed of and more.

“Fuck, should I cum in my number one fan’s tight little cunt?” he taunts, watching how the desperation in your teary eyes shines brightly. “Would you like that, cutie? Want me to fill your slutty little hole with my seed, hmm?” Sweat runs down his chest and gleams in the moonlight, the crevices between his sculpted muscles shining as he exerts himself. “A-Agh— Bet you’d like your hero’s cum inside of you, huh? Dripping… fuck— dripping into you and filling you up nice and good, yeah?”

You nod wildly, jaw unhinged but unable to speak, his hand on your throat still just as tight. Your orgasm is just starting to fade, overstimulated tears glittering down the sides of your face. Shouto’s broken pants transform into a crescendo of moans, his hips slapping the backs of your thighs harsher than ever as he chases his own release. You whimper when a wild, savage growl tears out of his chest, movements stalling as his cock twitches balls-deep inside you, sticky ribbons of white spurting and volcanoing out of him. His hulking biceps pull your chest flush against his heaving one, the hand around your throat sliding to hold the back of your neck up so he can kiss you deeply through the throes of his orgasm.

Your tongues caress each other slowly, passion peaking as he holds you in his arms like you’re a delicate, glass figurine about to shatter under his weight. He’s panting, chest rising and falling swiftly in between kisses. When you’re satisfied with his affection, he lays your body down onto the comforter, removing himself from you with gentle precision. Then he comes to lay beside you, pulling you close so that your head lays on his broad chest.

“Thank you for playing along, baby,” Shouto whispers, scattering kisses across your warm cheeks. “You did so well, my love. That was a thousand times better than I ever imagined.”

You laugh wearily, hand coming up to trace his sharp jawline with your thumb. He leans into your caress, a hand covering the back of yours and squeezing gently. “My pleasure,” you respond cheekily, closing your eyes and attempting to calm your racing heart. “You were kinda hot, though— all dominant like that. You’ve got a surprisingly dirty mouth, mister.”

“Really?” he hums, seemingly pleased with your praise. “I thought you were the hot one, begging for your hero’s cock like that all cute and desperate.” He nuzzles his nose against yours, laughing lightly.

You smile and press a chaste kiss to his lips. “Mmm, well you are my hero, Sho. My number one hero… always.”

Shouto sighs happily at your confession, a shy smile spreading on his lips. “Aw, baby… now I’m hard again.”

That earns him a smack in the chest as you giggle at his revelation. Curious, you glance down at his cock, and sure enough, there’s a telltale shadow standing upright in between his hips.

“I wouldn’t mind a round two,” you suggest, turning to wink at him.

“Ready for some good ‘ole married people sex, then, love?” he suggests, a brow raising as his hand glides over your propped-up hip.

“So ready, my sexual-deviant husband.”

“Good, my naughty little wife. This time, you can call me the usual, then.”

You bite your lip, batting your lashes and looking up at him with a glint in your eye. “Yes, Sir.”

  ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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make sure to let me know if you enjoyed!! thank you sm for reading my sho-hoes hehehe :) <3

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[sgtjbbhasmyheart]

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter One

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2101

Chapter Warning: Bad Language Words, tiny bit of angst

A/N: I started this on AO3 awhile ago. Now that I have a blog dedicated primarily to just Marvel/Bucky, I thought I’d add it here, too. Enjoy!

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission.  

Bucky heard his phone buzz as he was tugging a butter-soft tee over his head. He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand next to his bed as he worked his arms into their respective holes.

9:36

Steve was long in bed already, so the text most likely wasn’t from him. Sam was on a me me kick-- No, what did he call them? Memes!-- of a disgruntled cat which he swore reminded him of the super soldier. He wouldn’t be surprised if it were him. Or possibly Nat. She picked up the new issue of Guns & Ammo the other day and was sending him pictures of a Mossberg MC1sc 9mm she was drooling over.

Smoothing the body of the shirt over his torso, Bucky ambled over to his bed. He snatched up the phone from the navy blue comforter and flipped it over. To his amazement, the text wasn’t from Sam or Nat. Or even Steve.

(917) 460-5480 work thing boring af. kinda tied one on. might be late meeting you tomorrow

He blinked several times at the message, uncertain how to respond. It was a wrong number, right? Bucky hadn’t made plans with anyone for tomorrow that he could remember. Plus, everyone he knew had the same work thing. And it was rarely boring.

Definitely a wrong number.

He set the phone down near the clock, choosing to ignore the text. Hopefully, whoever this person was, figured out quickly they were texting the wrong number and moved on.

Bucky pulled back the covers before climbing into bed. His body melted into the mattress, muscles relaxing for the first time since breakfast. Training had been non-stop all day today. It felt good to just be, for once.

He grabbed the book he was reading off the nightstand and opened it to the spot he left off. He cleared his mind, as best he could, and concentrated on the words on the page.

A few pages in, his phone vibrated alive again. Another text message.

(917) 460-5480 sis dont be mad youd be drinking too if you had to sit thru one of these business dinners

Bucky sighed. He had hoped his radio silence would have clued this person into their mistake. Wishful thinking. Before he could punch out a reply, another text came through.

(917) 460-5480 timmons is droning on about this new client. kill me now

He quickly typed out a reply:

(917) 308-3117 I think you sent this to me by mistake.

Bucky watched the text indicator pulse as this unknown person worked out their response.

(917) 460-5480 haha very funny sis

Bucky huffed at this person’s disbelief, thumbs working on typing out his next message.

(917) 308-3117 I’m not trying to be funny. I can’t be someone’s sister when I’m a man.

He set the phone down on the nightstand again, hoping this person finally took a hint. He opened his book back up to the current page, taking a deep breath.

The room’s silence was broken again by the loud thrumming of his phone skittering across the surface of the black wood veneer.

(917) 460-5480 how does kevin feel about this so close to the wedding???

(917)460-5480 will you still need a wedding dress or will you just get a tux???

(917) 460-5480 am i still your maid of honor???

Bucky chuckled at this girl (no, young woman) asking the essential questions.

(917) 308-3117 Your sister did not get a sex change. Yes, she will still need a wedding dress. Yes, you are still her maid of honor. Like I said before, wrong number.

An almost immediate reply came through.

(917) 460-5480 prove it

Bucky grew slightly irritated at the insinuation. Why couldn’t she take his word for it? He exhaled loudly through his nose.

(917) 308-3117 How?

A few moments passed before the device juddered in the palm of his large hand.

(917) 460-5480 selfie

Bucky blanched at the request. He could feel the color drain from his face, only to immediately heat with a blush. A selfie? That is the last thing he wanted to do.

Although he’d been exonerated for his crimes as The Winter Soldier, he still knew about the dislike people felt about him as a person, in general. They couldn’t get past the brainwashing or other persona. God knows he still struggled with it.

He couldn’t go broadcasting his face through texts to a stranger. What if she was one of those who didn’t understand he had no say in what he did or what happened to him under Hydra’s control?

What if he ignored the solicitation? He could do that. Maybe even turn off his phone.

She did seem the type to be very persistent until she got what she wanted.

True to form, another text rang through.

(917) 460-5480 i will keep texting until i see your manly face

One corner of his lips quirked higher. Yup, persistent.

He navigated to the camera app on his phone and switched it to selfie mode. He stared at the damp locks falling to his shoulders. His beard would require a trim soon, but it wasn’t scraggly. Luckily, he’d had the hindsight to shave his neckbeard in the shower earlier.

Was he considering this? Some girl says jump, and he asks how high?

He combed metal fingers through his hair, blowing out a breath.

(917) 460-5480 im waiting

Bucky growled at the text, running a hand over his face. “Okay, okay. Give me a second,” he said to his phone. He held it up to head height, half an arm’s length away.

Click!

He previewed the picture, assuring himself it didn’t reveal too much. It was, somehow, off-center, containing a bearded chin and half a smirked mouth, one nostril, and a half-lidded eye.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Bucky pulled the messaging app back up and then sent off the picture. He tossed the phone aside, not wanting to watch the taunting blinking dots as he waited for a reply.

The picture was barely recognizable, but someone like Steve or Nat could tell it was him. It would be okay. No one would know.

His phone vibrated violently near him on the bed. Bucky cautiously plucked the device up, debating whether he wanted to read her reply. What if it said, “Holy shit! You’re The Winter Soldier!”? The hope of this woman thinking he was just some regular guy knotted up his stomach. He didn’t know why he cared so much about whether this stranger thought he was The Soldier or not. He had no control over who believed the lies perpetrated as truth through the media. He could only wish for the best.

He blew out the breath he was holding in and eyed the phone’s screen.

(917) 460-5480 is it fair to say men shouldnt be allowed to have long eyelashes??

Bucky laughed and immediately thought of poor Steve.

(917) 308-3117 You should see my buddy’s. The girls swoon and complain at the same time.

He quickly added to the message thread:

(917) 308-3117 Am I correct to assume you believe I’m a man and not your sister?

The response was swift.

(917) 460-5480 oh shit ur not my sister

(917) 460-5480 this isnt 9173083447?

Bucky laughed again, the tension in his chest slowly unfurling.

(917) 308-3117 Unfortunately for you-- no.

(917) 460-5480 ugh im such an idiot sorry for the shit i said

(917) 308-3117 Don’t worry about it. I had a good laugh at your expense.

(917) 460-5480 oh god now i feel like a bigger ass

Bucky suddenly felt like backpedaling. He hadn’t meant for her to feel bad about her mistake. It was cute in a roundabout way.

(917) 308-3117 Please don’t be embarrassed. It was the highlight of my night.

(917) 460-5480 me forcing u to prove ur a man was the best part of ur night??

Bucky thought for a moment. Was it the best part? The training sessions had become monotonous lately, even with the new agents. The team hadn’t been on any missions in a few weeks, so it was pretty accurate to say he was bored around the compound.

(917) 308-3117 I suppose it was. Work’s been a little slow, and there’s only so much training you can do before it becomes tedious.

(917) 460-5480 training? r u in the military? ooh, r u an athlete??

A laugh bubbled up from his chest. It was comical to see her try to guess his profession. His selfie hadn’t announced who he was to her after all.

(917) 308-3117 Something like that.

(917) 460-5480 so mysterious! r u some assassin who needs to keep his identity secret? is that y ur selfie only showed a quarter of ur face??

He paled at the implication. Maybe she did know and was yanking his chain. How did he block numbers again?

Another text came through from the mystery woman:

(917) 460-5480 not that i mind u have a luscious mouth

Bucky guffawed at the comment as flames rose beneath the skin of his cheeks. He hadn’t remembered blushing this much in such a short amount of time in decades.

(917) 308-3117 How much have you had to drink tonight, doll?

(917) 460-5480 doll?? what r u my grandpa??

He chuckled again. God, he was old enough and then some.

(917) 460-5480 enough to not want to shoot my brains out but not enough to know this dinner isnt a party

(917) 308-3117 Maybe you should get back to your dinner? I don’t want to get you into trouble.

He regretted the text the second he pressed send. Was he trying to get rid of her? No. Or was he looking out for her? This person he knew nothing about. She was more entertaining than the recurring nightmare he’d been having for the last week, that's for sure. He'd cling to this unknown to avoid slipping into that black abyss.

(917) 460-5480 aww does the military-trained assassin athlete mchottie not want to talk with me anymore?? 🙁

(917) 308-3117 No!! I’m honestly concerned you’ll be reprimanded if you pay more attention to your phone than Timmons.

The last thing Bucky needed was to feel more guilt, especially if it was at the expense of someone’s livelihood. His shoulders were already heavy enough.

(917) 460-5480 thats sweet but dont worry ur pretty little head over me timmons wouldnt last a day w/o me

(917) 460-5480 timmons may be the boss but i run that office

He simpered at her swagger. He could only imagine what kind of office she worked in because, again, a total stranger. Did he want to get to know her more, or was this a one and done thing? Would she wake up tomorrow and want to continue the conversation or blow him off for the drunken mistake her first text had been?

Bucky stared at his phone for several more minutes, pondering precisely what he was doing and what his expectations of the night were. It’s not like he was going to meet her in person, right? Was he that delusional? He was an Avenger now. He didn’t get a social life. Not that he had one before but still.

He was startled from his reverie as the phone shook in his hand.

(917) 460-5480 did i scare you away??

(917) 308-3117 No. Just thinking about tomorrow.

(917) 460-5480 shit a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie must have a lot to prepare for mentally ill let u get ur rest

He smiled at the gesture. If only she knew.

(917) 308-3117 Send me a text when you get home. I want to make sure you arrived okay.

(917) 460-5480 such a gentleman! i don’t want to wake u if ur asleep tho

(917) 308-3117 I doubt I’ll be sleeping, but it’ll help ease my mind.

(917) 460-5480 alright ill shoot a text ttfn

(917) 308-3117 ttfn?

(917) 460-5480 ta ta for now god u r a grandpa

(917) 308-3117 Yeah, yeah

Bucky’s mouth split into yet, another grin as he set his phone down once again on the nightstand. He picked up his discarded book and found his place on the page. After a few minutes of re-reading the same paragraph over and over, he slipped the bookmark into the gutter of the book. His mind was too preoccupied with the thought of some random girl in the city at a boring work dinner. He realized he hadn’t stopped smiling since they temporarily said goodbye.

Maybe there was a good chance this conversation would carry into tomorrow.

CHAPTER TWO

[bebepac]

Derby Girl

ORIGINAL POST DATE: 05/12/21 at 7:22PM EST

This is The Life of Riley Book Two.  To catch up with what you’ve missed so far, please click:

  The Life of Riley- Book Two. 

My Book 2 starts with basically TRR book 1 starts.  

If you’re curious to see the elaborate back story I have created for my version of Riley Brooks Please click: 

The Life of Riley Book One.

It will answer a lot of your questions that are left out of the Canon that PB wrote.  

The Book: TRR

The Pairing:  Liam x Riley

Word Count: 2011

Warnings:  Sexual innuendo

Summary: Riley goes to her first derby.  Liam and Drake make a bet (this episode has a few canon-ish parts. The most you’ll see in my series.) 

Deena is my own character, all others belong to Pixelberry. 

A/N:  I’m on vacation as of yesterday until May 25th.  I plan to do as much writing as i can in this time period.  Hopefully release some chapters of people’s favorites and get back on schedule a little bit with some releases on things people haven’t seen in a bit.  

Riley slowly opened her eyes.   

She thought she had dreamed the whole thing.  She was sure she would wake up in her tiny little apartment with Daniel.  She sat up in the ornately designed bedroom.

She went to peer out over the balcony seeing the beautifully trimmed gardens.  

I really have the chance to win a Prince’s heart. She thought. Last night dancing in the Maze with Liam was the most amazing feeling. Riley could not wipe the dopey grin she had on her face.

There was a soft knock on her door.

Maxwell appeared.  

“Good Morning Little Blossom!  How are you today? You look so happy this morning.”

“I’m great.  I’m still so amazed by this place at times Maxwell.  There’s just so much beauty here. And Liam is here."

“And you get to be a part of this Little Blossom, because of the way he feels about you.  I see the way Prince Liam looks at you.”

“Then why can’t he just say it then?”

“Because that’s not how things are done here with people of his status.  You wouldn’t only be only his choice, but the choice of the people and they have to love you too and they don’t know you.  No one knows who Riley Antonia Brooks of New York truly is.”

Both Riley and Maxwell abruptly turned around to the voice of the person talking in the room.

Smile officially gone. Stolen by the rat bastard with the sneer standing at the door to her bedroom.

“Lady Riley meet my brother Bertrand.”

“The Duke of Ramsford.”

Riley decided since he went with such a formal title even though she was wearing her pajamas she should curtsy.   He seemed stuffy and the antithesis of Maxwell.

He nodded.  “The New Yorker can be trained to fit in here.”  

Riley glared at him.  “I’m not an animal Duke Ramsford.”  

“That remains to be seen.  If the Cordonian people do not fall in love with you, even though he could be Lady Riley, he will not choose you.  Love is not the only thing that matters here.  It’s honestly not even a factor here.  Prince Liam has a duty to his people to pick the most suitable woman to be at his side.  So you, my  dear idealistic girl, must learn to give the people what they want.  The derby today will give you the opportunity to meet the press for the first time.  This will set the tone of how the people will begin to approve of you or disapprove of you.  The Queen is also important here as well.”  

“I think the Queen might potentially be on my side.”  

Bertrand laughed.  “You don’t know The Queen.”  

“I met with her and she wasn’t rude to me. She was actually helpful when you think about it.  She told me to get a feel for the audience that will be watching me and dress for them.  I think that’s helpful advice.”

“You’re right, that is helpful advice.”  Maxwell chimed in trying to release some of the tension.

“You need to get ready. Head to the boutique and make sure you pick something suitable.”

Riley almost didn’t want to go to the boutique after what happened to her the last time.

However, when she walked in, she was greeted by a kind middle-aged woman with a genuinely welcoming smile.

“And you must be Lady Riley.”

“I am.” Riley still had her guard up her voice and body language tight and protecting herself.  

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”  

“Oh?”

“I know that the last time you were here, you didn’t have the greatest experience with the staff, and I apologize for that, but if there is anything you need I will be more than willing to assist.”  

“Thank you so very much.”  

Riley smiled.

“It’s no wonder….”

“It’s no wonder what?”

“Why he’s so enchanted with you.  Lady Riley you’re absolutely breathtaking, without a stitch of makeup, and you have such a kind-hearted spirit. I can almost feel it radiate off you.  I was sworn to secrecy, because he couldn’t hide how he feels about you.  Let me know if you need any help picking out something for him.  You’re living your very own Cinderella story right now.”  

It was the nicest anyone had been to her since she landed.  Riley’s eyes filled with tears.  

“Oh no, don’t do that dear.  I know things have been a little rough for you.  The royal life is not easy.  They don’t only fight with words, they fight with glares and  underhanded behaviors.  But I’m here now.  At least here, you will always be treated like the royalty I believe you will become someday.  Now let’s pick out something beautiful for him.”

Riley thumbed through the racks.

"If I may?  I did notice his eyes fall on this dress here.  It looks to be your size, and that color would look like heaven on you."

"Pink is my favorite color."

"Then you should try it on."

This woman Deena, had made the palace boutique an oasis.

Riley tried on the dress staring at herself in the mirror.

"His face is going to be just as pink as that dress when he sees you. That dress was made for you. And since you're going to the derby try this as well."

She gave Riley a white hat.

The hat didn't quite stay on.

Riley laughed. "Big hair goals and hats don't generally mix."

Deena laughed.  "This is true. I think Dolly Parton said it best, if someone tells you hair is too big. Get rid of them, you don't need that kind of negativity in your life!"

"That's a plan!"

“Thank you Deena.”  

“You show them honey. You show them why he’s picking you.”  

Riley decided to be the "Derby Girl" for the day she would straighten her hair. The hat laid perfectly.  

“Little Blossom! You look amazing!”

“Thank you Lord Maxwell,” she responded as Bertrand walked into the room.

“Yes, she picked a suitable outfit to be seen in and for the media.  We should be on our way.”

The whole duration of the ride Bertrand droned on about  royalty, the queen, and the event and the Cordonian Ruby Apple.  

“When you are done with your interview you’re going to go over to the pink tents to watch the race with the other suitors.”  

“Greaaat. Will Prince Liam be dropping by?”  

“Probably not, you’ll see him at the picnic afterwards.”  

“You got this Little Blossom!”

Riley managed to stay cool and calm while talking to the press.  The press deemed her “The Mystery Woman” based on her answers.  It was fitting she thought, because a lot of her life, even for herself, was a mystery to her. All the missing memory gaps she had of her life before the accident, at times, Riley felt she barely knew herself.  

She looked for the pink tents not seeing any, but when she turned she saw Drake heading toward  a tent.   She quickly followed him, leaping inside.  

The Prince jumped to attention, his jaw locked, his body rigid, and his face stern.  She realized what she had done.  He had probably been trained for surprise attacks, and he had to always be alert.

“I’m sorry...I didn’t think..” Riley whispered.  

The prince visibly relaxed. 

“No, on the contrary it’s a very welcome surprise.  How did you manage to get in here?”  

“Playing a game of following the leader.”

The beer Drake was about to drink she pulled from his hand.

“Thanks for the beer Drake, you're too kind.”

Drake looked like he wanted to say something, but  he remained silent.  

Liam lightly cleared his throat.  

“I’m going to….”  

“You don’t have to….”  Riley started to say, but she saw the look in Liam’s eyes.

“Bye Drake.”  She whispered, her eyes not leaving Liam’s.  

Drake walked out letting the tent fall closed.  

He pulled Riley to his lap, softly stroking her hair.  

“You look beautiful.  But you know I love your curls.”

“I know.  I would have had a wardrobe malfunction otherwise if i didn’t straighten it.  My hat wouldn’t fit.”  

“You would have been just as beautiful without it.”  

“I know but it’s the derby and Bertrand was making such a big deal about the derby and looking appropriate.  And even though I know nothing else about derbys I know next to the horse race, number two is woman in hats.  Your hat game must be on point.  Serious hat-age.”

Liam laughed, tightening his grip around her.

“Lady Riley, no one makes me laugh like you do.   I’m always so happy when you’re around.  Not just the things you say, or the way you look at me.  It’s who you are, that radiates off you, and I just feel it wrap around me.”

“And what does that feel like?”

“You feel like sunshine Lady Riley.  Sunshine on a summer day.  The perfect summer day. When you close your eyes and just feel the sun warm your skin, and you are so content to just.....be in that moment.  That’s how I feel when we are in the same space together.”

She softly kissed his lips.  

He began another kiss, but then pulled away too soon.  “As much as I would love to see where this could go, we have to at least watch the race.” Riley slipped off his lap into the seat next to him as he opened the tent.  

Drake came in a few minutes later with new beers.  

Riley was silent, listening to Liam and Drake talk about  the race and their friendly wager, and how she got roped into it she’ll never know.  She was going to be sitting on the back of the loser while they did ten push-ups.  

“Who’s your money on winning the bet, me or Drake?”

Riley winced.  

“As much faith as I have in you Liam, I think Drake might know more about horses and the stables. So my money is on Drake. I’m sorry.”

“Ouch that had to hurt Liam.”  Drake chuckled.

Liam looked hurt. 

“Did you want the truth, or did you want me to lie to you Liam?”

“The truth Lady Riley, always the truth.”  

Annnnd…. Riley was right.

Liam unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it on the empty chair.

He got into a push-up position.

“Lady Riley if you will.”

Riley hopped onto Liam’s back.  Even though he was surprised he still held a tight planked push up position.  

“Lady Riley!”

“God she’s ruthless, are you sure you want this one?”  Drake laughed.

“I’ve been on him before, I knew he could handle it.”  

Liam choked back a laugh for a moment, his form unwavering.

“She’s right, I can handle her.”  

“TMI Brooks!!!”

Liam easily did all ten push ups unbroken.  

When Liam was done  he put on his dress shirt again.  

“Drake will take you back to the other suitors for a late lunch.”

“A sweet little goodbye kiss to tide me over until I'm in your presence again?”

Riley seductively puckered her lips, tapping her index finger against them.  

Liam glanced around  and pulled her to him kissing her.   Her fingers gently tugged his hair as his kiss deepened and his grip tightened around her.

Drake dropped her off with the other suitors.  

“I can’t believe we didn’t even get to see  Prince Liam at all!”   Lady Penelope's voice rang out in annoyance. “I had the best story to tell about my poodles to make him laugh.”  

“Where were you Lady Riley?”  

“I got lost again.  All these places around here look the same.  Drake found me finally and brought me over here to you guys.”

“Lady Riley you need to get it together.  Being late because you got lost won’t look well for you with the media.”    Lady Kiara  shook her head.  

“I’m not sure I believe her.”  

Olivia stepped up to her staring into Riley’s face.  

“Why would I lie?  You saw Drake drop me off here right Liv?”  

“I saw, but something feels off.  I don’t trust you Lady Riley.  Something is afoot.”

“Well, then I guess it’s game on then, Scarlet Duchess?”

“Yes.  Game on.”  

Tags in the comments!

[1994sunflower]

locked out of heaven. ii (m.c)

pairing: michael clifford x reader

genre: angst, smut

word count: 23.9k

involves: bad boy!michael, college!au, jealous!michael, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, being a bit dirty in public, dirty talk, daddy kink, choking, size kink, face slapping (consensual), spitting kink, praise, degradation/name calling, innocence kink, corruption kink, violence, blood, language, mentions of infidelity, light self-deprecation, mentions of drugs, drinking

summary: months after the breakup, michael has been a wreck. not only in his mind but to everyone else on campus. he’s unmanageable without you. you weren’t faring much better. you’d lost your light and you find yourself trying anything to forget the betrayal. but will a reunion with the very man you had fought against even yourself to avoid be what you needed to fix everything and go back to the happiness you shared with him or will it be just what you needed to finally move on?

part one

Whispers had followed Michael for months.

Different from the whispers he had become accustomed to hearing for the majority of his life. No, these whispers had very little to do with him and everything to do with the sudden breaking of his relationship.

People had become used to seeing the short girl hanging by his arm next to him. They’d finally just started to stop staring every time they saw the colorful clothes and the kind, smiley face next to his glares and dark, chained clothing. But suddenly that was gone and it was all anyone could talk about.

It got even worse when rumors started spreading about the reason of the jarring split. Hushed voices, surprised gasps, disbelieving eyes were everywhere Michael went. Even whispers of the girl’s name, the one he refused to acknowledge, started trailing him. That didn’t last for long though. He went through great lengths to show just how little he wanted to hear of the person that helped him destroy the best thing in his life. And God help whoever tried to bring her, or it, up. It just served to remind him of the night he had began to think of as the ‘night when it all ended.’

Ashton wasn’t really shocked when Michael had started to hole up in his room. Without you to persuade him to go to class, Michael had no reason to. He skipped class and had sworn off parties for the rest of his life. In fact, there were times when he would spend days without ever stepping foot on campus. At that time, he only ever went out to get food. And even then, it was in the late afternoon just to a fast food place or the Union and then right back home. Ashton didn’t even know what he could do in that house, alone all day for days at a time. But Michael managed to do it faithfully for nearly two months now.

After weeks of trying to talk to you, Michael seemed to finally lose his hope. It was over and it was all his fault. He had hurt you, as if he had ever even deserved to have you in the first place. He figured leaving you alone was the least he could do for you to  give you a chance to be happy again, to forget him and move on with your life. Even if it killed him.

And boy did it feel like it was killing him. He was a mess without you, miserable. You were on his mind constantly. Not an hour went by when your beautiful face didn’t enter his mind and he had to clutch his phone painfully in his hand to keep from running out to find you and beg you for just one more chance. He didn’t even sleep the same, not without you. He kept a picture of you as his lock-screen, one he had taken back when both of you were still happy, and a part of him knew it was just to punish himself, forcing himself to look what he had lost. You were it. You were the one.

But he blew it and you were gone. He wasn’t sure he could move on without you, wasn’t sure he even wanted to. Because what was the point of dating if he wasn’t dating you?

Michael had stopped crying a few weeks after your breakup. In fact, to Ashton, the only person to see him on a regular basis, it almost seemed like he had gone empty. No emotions whatsoever. But to Michael, it just felt like he was suffocating with a permanent knot at his throat.

You were gone. You were gone. He hadn’t taken you for granted ever, but even with that, not having you around felt like his heart had left with you, leaving just a cloud of anger and loneliness in its wake with nothing to calm it.

The times Michael would go back on campus, it was just to wreak havoc. He had had a bad reputation before you but it was worse without you.  

“He’s worse now.” Was the talk of the campus. It made the seriousness of the situation obvious when it wasn’t even the students that were saying these things. It was the administration and professors. “I thought he was bad before. He’s just out of control now, it’s like there’s nothing holding him back anymore. I don’t know what we’re going to do with him.”

Before, Michael hadn’t completely stopped his violent streak. But he had restrained himself a lot more than he would’ve without you. And that was just because he wanted to be good for you, keep you happy and unafraid of him. And because, with you, he was a lot happier himself. He had less outbursts because how could he be anything but content when he had you. Now, however, he had that extra anger he wanted to get rid of (granted it was anger towards himself). He wanted to erase what he had done, he wanted you back, but that wasn’t possible. Now he was even angrier and more frustrated than he ever was before.

It only took a look now for Michael to pick his next victim. He had stopped trying to hide his tirade of violence and blood, as well. In fact, it hadn’t become so out of place for a student to be leaving their class building and see Michael beating up some poor soul a few feet away.  

Everything made it very evident that he was his best self when he was with you and without you, he was his worst.

♔

It was considered almost a miracle when Ashton finally got Michael to leave his house, in the middle of the day and for a reason other than to go release his anger. And he got him to even go to the Quad, in the middle of campus. It felt like hell was freezing over.

Now, Michael didn’t do it gladly, of course. It took a lot of persuading and an eventual screaming match that resulted in Ashton physically pulling him out of the house. Michael didn’t crack a smile the entire way there. But he hadn’t been smiling much at all lately anyway. Instead, his gaze kept sweeping the area around them silently and while Ashton didn’t ask and he knew Michael would never admit it, they both knew he was trying to catch a glimpse of you. Anything that could make his cold heart finally start up again. But you were in class.

Ashton knew that because he had started keeping tabs on you. Both for Michael’s sake, looking out for you when he couldn’t, and for your sake, to keep Michael away from you because he didn’t want to see you go through the pain you seemed to relive every time you saw him.

Ashton kind of resented Michael for hurting you in the way he did. He had considered you his friend too, and it was hard to see you hurt. Of course he felt bad for Michael and he knew he would never have done it purposely, but you were such a light in his best friends’ life and to see it be gone, snuffed out by his friend’s own stupid actions made him want to shake Michael. Yell at him for sabotaging his own happiness.

But he didn’t. Instead he watched with barely hidden worry as Michael leaned his head back to rest against the brick wall behind him, holding the cigarette tightly in his hand, the smoke pillowing out of his lips in a rising cloud. His eyes were closed as if this was the only place he received contentment (that nicotine always provided him) recently.

Calum and Chris stood in front of him, their eyes flicking over to the silent Michael ever so often in nervousness, standing apart just enough to give Michael a clear opening to look at the Quad’s center. They were in the shaded part of the area, thanks to the building in the corner they were directly under. Ashton had invited them over just to give Michael more people to be around, he knew he needed it.

Even if Chris and Michael weren’t exactly friends and even if Michael tried everything to not look at Calum; his face reminded him too much of that night, of what he had done and what Calum had stood by and let happen. But he was too good of a friend for Michael to hate, especially when, at the end, the fault fell on Michael’s shoulders. So instead, they just stood silently.

Calum looked intimidating, even in his sweater, and short trimmed hair. He fit right in with Michael and even Ashton but even he eyed Michael with uncertainty. Unsure of what would happen with such a broken boy in front of him. Especially a boy that placed at least some of the blame on him. Not that he had any loyalties to you in the first place, he barely knew you. But still, even he felt a little off every time he saw you on campus. You had lost the bright aura you always carried with you, everyone could see it. Your wide eyed enthusiasm for the world was gone. But you still managed to give him a (now strained) welcoming smile every time you saw him.

So while he had met you only once or twice, he definitely felt a sort of guilt inside himself that his friend had been the one to snuff it out. Which, subsequently just made his own friend get worse in his temper and feelings.

Maybe if he had been more attentive he could’ve, should’ve, stopped it. But he didn’t see it happen. One minute he had gone to get a drink and stopped to chat up some girls, the other Michael was gone. He’d like to think he would have stepped in, snapped Michael out of it, spared you from the humiliation you went through because even he knew you didn’t deserve it.

Chris was the only one who stuck out like a sore thumb in the group. A part of him was excited that he was invited to be a part of such a select group but the other part cursed that Charlie was in class and he was left alone to handle such a sensitive and explosive Michael - and situation.

And that inner turmoil was obvious by Chris’ complete lack of understanding in what okay to talk about in front of Michael and what wasn’t. The topic of you, was definitely on the not okay list.

To be fair, Chris was hesitant to speak but he pushed through the nerves to talk. “Did you hear that Luke asked Y/N out yesterday?”

Ashton shut his eyes in dread at what his friend’s reaction would be and Calum delivered a sharp elbow to Chris’ side.

It was stupid of him to think it was okay to say that. But in his defense, the only real link between him and Michael had been you. So it was the only thing he could talk about with him, really. And that didn’t change even when you broke up just as his yearning to be Michael’s friend hadn’t changed either.

Michael’s eyes sprung open wide as if he had just been punched. “What?”

Ashton’s eyes silently yelled at Chris to shut up, to not say anything more because he knew that if he did, Michael wouldn’t be controlled. He had given you up but that didn’t mean he didn’t still love you, a love that could be deadly in order to protect you and keep you safe, even if he did it quietly so you didn’t realize it. A love that was still fiercely possessive over you because no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t imagine a present where you weren’t his.

Luke was everything he wanted to keep you away from. Especially now when you were at your most vulnerable, when he couldn’t be right there to protect you. A handsome football player that seemed to be stuck in his high school glory days, he was a slime-ball through and through. Rumors of his conquests weren’t like Michael’s, no his rumors were started through his brags and disgusting cat calls. Michael’s were earned. Luke was more well known for his borderline aggressive and down right misogynistic behavior with his prior ‘girlfriends'.

He seemed to have found a one-way rivalry in Michael, though he failed to notice that Michael couldn’t care less about him or his body count. But at the mention of his and your names together, Michael finally felt that burning rage that Luke always seemed to want to induce in him. He couldn’t imagine you, sweet and moral as you were, with someone that would treat you like trash, someone that didn’t deserve you. Though of course, who was he to judge when he obviously didn’t deserve you either, with how much he had hurt you in the end. His fingers all but crushed the cigarette in his hand.

Chris kept his eyes on Ashton, nodding in understanding and was going to stay quiet. Say nevermind and end it there but Michael had his dark, dangerous eyes set on him. “What did you just say?”

Michael was not to be ignored, everyone knew that and unfortunately, Chris was not Ashton, who was the exception. It was the first time Chris had heard that tone Michael was famous for, the threateningly low one that promised pain if ignored. So it was no wonder Chris chose to listen to him over Ashton.

Chris’ eyes were shaking when he answered, “W-well, they’re in the same physics class and I guess he’s been asking for her for help during class and he finally asked her to a movie yesterday.”

And there was Michael’s heartbeat, racing. His eyes flickered every which way, unsure of how to process that. In fact, his mind literally seemed to reject it. You couldn’t have said yes. Even if you knew how much it would hurt Michael, you wouldn’t have. Right? He couldn’t handle it if he destroyed you so much, destroyed your self-worth so badly that you would say yes to be with someone even worse than he was. You were always out of his league. Now, without him, you deserved the world, the happiness Michael couldn’t give you, not to find someone so below your league it was a whole different ball game.

Michael’s mouth ran dry at the thought of you on a date with that bastard who was only doing it to get under his skin. And it was working. Luke Hemmings was finally achieving what he always wanted, to hurt Michael as much as possible - to win.

He could imagine your trusting smile and modest eyes soaking up all the bullshit lies he would throw at you to convince you he was a good guy. His heart constricted at the thought of his hands on you, wrapping themselves around your body like only his were meant to, his words that would surely offend you more than making you feel complimented, ignoring your thoughts and opinions that had always meant the world to Michael (in fact not much mattered more to him). The way he would completely disregard your boundaries and fail to give you the respect you deserved because that was just the way Luke was with women, controlling and dismissive.

It might’ve been luck or it might’ve been the universe’s cruel way of finally making karma catch up with Luke and all his sins. But just as Michael felt like he couldn’t deal with what he was just told, Luke himself walked across the Quad.

Two of his friends trailed behind him, both of them wearing similar shirts declaring which Athletic Department they were a part of. Luke’s blond hair was done up in a quiff and his blinding, charming smile hid well the fact that he was a bad person with an even more tainted heart than Michael.

Michael saw them first, staring at the leader, Luke walking just a few steps ahead of the others. As his eyes followed him, like a predator would look at a prey, he thought about his options. If you had said yes (his heart prayed for the first time in his life that you didn’t), and he beat Luke up, he knew it would hurt you. And Michael didn’t want to hurt you more than he already had. He could put aside his pride for you.

But Luke made the choice for him. And he made it extremely clear.

Luke’s eyes met his and his smile turned into a full blown grin. One filled with taunting malice. His hand went up in a faux friendly wave. “Michael, my man! Asked your girl out yesterday, don’t worry I’ll take real good care of her.” He was practically yelling to make sure Michael heard. He had stopped walking and now stood directly in front of Michael, granted several yards away, right dab in the middle of the Quad. “I bet she’ll be able to take it like a pro too, might have to break her in a bit though.”

He was laughing and his friends chuckled beside him.

Ashton shot his hand out, “Michael don’t.”

But it was too late. Michael had thrown his cigarette to the ground, stomping on it as he began striding angrily towards the smug blond.

It only took a few steps before Michael was close enough to grab the collar of his shirt and punch him square in the face. And once he got that first punch in, he didn’t stop. Punch after punch after punch. He didn’t stop when he felt the blood on his hands and he didn’t stop when he felt the hands of Luke’s friends try to pry him away.

Luke disrespected you. He felt disgusted at the way he sexualized you, like you were nothing but a hole to fuck. When you were Michael’s life, when you were goodness personified, someone who only saw the good in everyone even after the world, and Michael, disappointed you so much. You deserved to be praised, adored.

“Don’t you ever talk about her again. Don’t ever disrespect her like that, you piece of fucking shit.” His angry screams sounded through the now silent Quad.

And then it was the images Luke had planted in his head that bothered him. The thought of your small tight body underneath Luke, moaning his name, blushing beautifully as you made all the small noises you made during sex that he loved so much, calling him daddy, being submissive and letting him do whatever he wanted to you, degrade you, like you always let Michael do, giving yourself to such a piece of shit.

He didn’t want to imagine you that way with anyone but especially not with Luke. The fact that Luke thought he even deserved to talk to you let alone have sex with you. Michael wasn’t ready to think of you moving on in that way, letting someone else have you in a way only Michael had had you before, in a way Michael had planned only he would ever have you. No one knew your body like he did, he had taught you everything and he couldn’t imagine you using that with anyone else. You knew exactly how to please him. Only he knew your body, knew what you liked. No one else. His possessiveness had taken over him.

“She’s mine, you’ll never get to have her like that. You don’t…..deserve……her.”

Each bone crunch that his fists caused wasn’t enough to satisfy his anger like it usually was with others. No, each time he heard Luke’s pathetic sounds, he only got angrier. His fists punched his cheek, his nose, his stomach. Anywhere and it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wanted to get those imagines, those thoughts out of his head. He wanted you to have said no. He wanted Luke to never even look at you again. He wanted you back in his arms, with him.

You were his. You were still his. Even though he didn’t deserve to think that.

He had ruined that. And that just made him angrier, punch harder. Maybe if he hit Luke enough, all of his regrets would finally stop haunting him. His frustration and self destruction driving him now.

Ashton’s hands were in his hair as he watched his best friend. He watched as Michael kept punching, leaning down further as Luke’s body lost more and more energy, slouching him closer to the ground. His face was almost completely covered in blood.

“He’s going to kill him.” Those were the words he’d always feared he would end up saying.

A few professors had come out of the woodworks, moving closer, calling out for Michael to stop, as if he cared about authority, and of course, to no avail. One professor, a short psychology professor, attempted to pull Michael off but Michael was stronger and just pushed him away.

Ashton didn’t dare try to stop him himself. He was Michael’s friend but Ashton knew his limits and Michael was way beyond his. There was no doubt in Ashton’s mind that he would get beat up quickly if he tried to step in and stop Michael, especially from beating up someone that dared talk about you. Everyone knew when you started dating that you were off limits, you were Michael’s limit. No one was to talk about you, be mean to you, or say anything even resembling degrading to you or they would face Michael. It was the one thing that made him angrier than anything else, even more so if they were to directly attack him. It was a type of anger that didn’t seem to end or be quenched by anything. The rule still applied even well after your breakup. It was worse now, coupled with the anger and turmoil of losing you. Ashton couldn’t number the amount of kids Michael had pummeled after hearing your name spoken in a ridiculing or perverted manner after the break up became well known.

When Michael was beyond his limit, there was no telling what he was willing to do. It was like he had become blinded by rage. He wouldn’t hesitate to fuck everyone up that was in his way.

Well, not everyone.

Ashton cursed under his breath, digging out his phone quickly to find the schedule of the one person that he’d been secretly looking out for, the one person that could stop Michael, if you were up for it. But if it meant you could help someone while simultaneously keeping Michael out of jail for murder, he didn’t doubt you would be. You were too good of a person to say no. Even after everything.

He was still looking down at his phone, ignoring the disgusting sounds of Luke yelling through the gurgling blood in his throat and Michael’s angry grunts only a few yards away when he ordered Chris and Calum. “Try to keep him from killing Luke, okay? I’ll be right back!”

He was running when he called back to make sure they got it, “Stall him!”

He’d gotten your class building and room but to find you and get you there was a race against the clock. Or against Michael.

♔

The whispers that followed you were haunting.

They were worse than the whispers that happened when you and Michael first got together. Because now most of the time, people were talking more about Michael than about you so they didn’t bother to quiet down when you entered the room or walked past.

Instead, you were forced to listen to students and professors alike talk about your boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend now. It felt like you couldn’t have a minute of peace without hearing his name and remembering what he had done to you.

“It’s gotten so bad and no one can calm him down. He used to be a lot more restrained, wonder what happened.” You heard as you entered your small recitation classroom. One of the girls next to you had turned her entire body back to talk to her friend. She was talking animately while her friend listened coolly.

The blonde girl shrugged easily, “I don’t know but he’s literally so scary. Have you seen him walking around campus? He looks like he wants to kill someone all the time. One time I saw him push a girl out of his way. Can you imagine?”

You closed your eyes, willing any and all images of Michael to leave your mind. You knew from experience that many of the rumors of Michael’s angry and aggravated actions were just that: rumors that served to vilify him even more. But you also knew by how much you knew him, that a lot of them were true.

You never saw what everyone else spoke about, though. But you knew Michael’s new actions were a common occurrence just by the sheer amount you heard about it, everywhere. You sometimes wondered if he purposely acted out where he knew you wouldn’t be, to keep you from having to see that violence that he never liked you to be a part of when you were dating.

A part of you felt bad for him because you knew this out of control anger had emerged because you were gone. Especially when he had been trying so hard and working to manage his anger better. And you hated yourself for feeling that way.

You hated that you were the one who felt bad for him, that a part of you wanted to go back to calm him down like you knew you could. Because he was the one who fucked up, who took your heart and stomped on it. But you couldn’t help but know that you were the one who helped ground him and his emotions a lot of the time when you were still together. You knew this outburst was at least partially because you weren’t there anymore.

The worst part was why did you want to help him? You wanted to be with him, you wanted to help soothe his anger and his hurt behind that. It hurt to know he was in pain, to know that, even though you knew he cheated on you, he must’ve felt at least something. He wasn’t completely heartless to your pain. Maybe he had loved you enough to at least regret it. He was making it obvious.

If it wasn’t by how long he had tried to talk to you, gone out of his way just to catch a glimpse of you, it sure was by how he had lost control without you, how his emotions were all over the place with regret and longing for you. But that too stopped after a while. Part of you was thankful for it, you could finally put him behind you, but the other part was hurt even more now that he was giving you the opportunity to forget him. But how could you do that so easily when you had spent so much of your years loving him, seeing a part of him no one else did. The kind, accepting, loving version.

You weren’t sure how much of it was real love and regret and how much was from being caught and losing just a constant in his life he was used to having, a comfort. Any benefit of the doubt and patience that you usually gave Michael had dried out.

Even if it was real, it wasn’t enough to erase what he did, erase your memory of it.

The girl was still ingrained in your thoughts. Michael had made it quite clear that he resented her or maybe associated her with his mistake that he hated so much to remember, avoided all whispers of her name, her face. Avoided her like the plague since then. Even went as far as to warn everyone that mentions of her were to be met with pain, and a lot of it. At least that was what the rumor mill had brought you. You didn’t know who she was and while, at the center of Michael’s wrath, she decided to stay silent, underground and pretend nothing happened, you couldn’t forget. She knew you were dating Michael, everyone on campus did. But she didn’t care and she chose the moment Michael didn’t either.

He didn’t respect you enough, didn’t give a regard to the consequences, what you could have felt in the aftermath. Maybe because he had never intended for you to find out. You had always been okay with his past but maybe that was just a naivety of your part, one he took advantage of. You wondered just how long he had been betraying you while you followed along like being pulled on a string. Maybe that was what had him so messed up, he had still wanted to keep you along for the ride. Just a toy to pick up when he didn’t have other plans. Maybe the Michael you knew wasn’t the real Michael. Just an illusion he wanted you to believe to keep you around.

You hated yourself for still loving him. Despite everything your mind was conjuring up about him, images and thoughts that clashed so violently from the Michael you had known. You still remembered how much he meant to you, how beautiful your relationship was, full of love, protection, acceptance and opening each of you up to new parts of yourself, more adventurous and centered parts. Tainted only by the giant gash at the very end.

You were tainted with it as well. And not in the titillating way Michael had always promised to corrupt you with during sex. No, now, you weren’t the bubbly life loving girl you had been since before you met him. Now you were irreparably different. Life felt gray, as if nothing was what you thought it was. If the man you thought was the love of your life, the one you trusted everything to (including your love and your life), the one you would have been willing to marry, to mother his children, betrayed you in such a painful and humiliating way, what was stopping the rest of the world from doing the same.

The worse thing was that he had given you ever indication of being just as equally devoted to you. How could a man that had been planning so many beautiful things for the two of you end up being such a cheater, a liar?

The relief you felt when your strict TA waltz into the room, forcing the girls into silence was unmeasurable. In fact, you were almost happy to learn about calculus and have only that occupy your mind for the remainder of the hour.

But it seemed like the world didn’t want to give you that happiness, especially when the door behind you was yanked open. The whole class jumped in surprise and swiveled around.

You wished you hadn’t when you turned and saw an out of breath Ashton, grabbing onto the doorway in a sort of panic you’d never seen on him before. His curly hair bounced dramatically as he stepped inside the room.

Even your TA was silent, confused as to what exactly was going on.

Ashton’s eyes search the rows of desks before his gaze finally landed on you. He had definitely ran there as his words came out breathless. “Y/N. I…..I need you to….come…” He leaned forward, his hands on his knees as he tried to even out his breathing. “I need you to come with me right now.”

Your eyes watched him, unamused. You hadn’t seen him since the breakup and you couldn’t deny the hurt you felt at him icing you out, as if you were the villain for breaking it off with Michael and sending him into a spiral of hurt and regret. Especially when you had considered him your friend as well.

“Ash, I’m kind of busy right now.” You gestured to your almost frozen TA at the front of the classroom, standing in front of the whiteboard.

But Ashton was already shaking his head, “No, you don’t understand. Michael, he’s-”

At the sound of Michael’s name, everyone turned away from Ashton and towards you, staring at you in awe. You were Michael’s ex-girlfriend, the one who broke up with him and had started his reign of terror on the campus. The one who made it scary to even just walk to class without the fear of getting beat up or threatened.

Ashton, for his part, looked like he was shaking with how almost afraid he looked. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What was going on?

You shook your head before he could finish, just the sound of Michael’s name had your breath catching. “Ashton, we broke up. I don’t want anything to do with whatever he’s is involved in.”

Ashton looked at the pleadingly door like he was debating if he should just carry you against your will. You were the only one who Michael would listen to, he knew that.

“Michael’s about to kill Luke.”

You blinked, your blood running cold. “What?”

“He’s beating him up at the Quad right now, he’ll only listen to you, you know how he is.”

You knew Michael was mad, that he was hurting, but you never thought it would get to this point. And that feeling of sadness for the man you had cared so much for just spread further.

You were silent for a moment. Unsure if it was that you couldn’t process what you were being told or if you didn’t know what to say.

“Y/N we have to hurry before he does something he’ll regret. I can’t let my best friend ruin his life…again. Please. I know he fucked up - he’s been suffering because of it - but he loves you and you know that, he’d do anything for you. Please.” Ashton was talking fast but none of it registered in your mind.

Because as soon as you understood the gravity of the situation, the very real possibility that Michael had lost himself so much that he could do something he couldn’t take back, you were up. You got up off of your seat quickly, running to Ashton and, when he ran out of the room, guiding you to wherever Michael was, you ran after him too. You didn’t think, you left all your stuff, you left your TA yelling out your name. All that was going through your mind was Michael.

The fact that this would be the first time you saw him in months was very present in your mind. But the dominant thought was his angry face, hitting someone without pause just like you’d seen multiple times before but this time, so much worse. Because this time he had nothing to lose.

You hated yourself a little for caring so much. After what he had done to you, you should hate him. But you tried to convince yourself that you did and that you’d do this for anyone, it was the right thing to do. It was for Luke’s sake too, save him and his health.

But as you finally reached the Quad and saw the back of Michael’s looming figure, it was hard to deny the increasing thumping of your heart beat, the way your breath was taken away at seeing him again. In all his glory.

From afar he looked great. His arms were toned, decorated perfectly with his tattoos, that still made your cheeks flare up in a light blush. He looked as gorgeous as always. In fact, you would’ve appreciated him and his appearance a lot more if his muscles weren’t flexed due to the current beating he was delivering to the boy in your physics class.

If Ashton hadn’t told you it was Luke, it might’ve been hard to recognize him with all the blood. And the fact that he was basically lying on the ground, held up only by Michael’s tight grip on the boy’s shirt.

The sight stopped you cold. You saw everyone else in the Quad, frozen and staring, at the fearsome sight as well.

You’d seen Michael being violent, but Ashton was right to be panicked, you’d never seen it be this bad. Maybe you had a little do to with that; you hated violence and would preach peace religiously, especially to Michael (though he never quite understood your position, he definitely respected it enough to restrain himself). Could this outbreak really be because of your break up? Was he really this uncontrollable without you? A part of you couldn’t imagine him caring so much about something he caused that it would drive him to this point.

But the evidence was right in front of you. As Michael’s face was scrunched up in pure fury and as professors and students alike yelled out his name to no avail. Nothing was stopping him. The only thing that was restraining him from fully exploding was a very strong Calum grabbing around his shoulder blades pulling him back and successfully slowing the assault down as much as possible while Ashton arrived. It wasn’t much, just slowed Michael down but it was enough to possibly stop a tragedy.

You had no idea what Luke could’ve possibly done to him to cause this. They’d had a few run ins before but Michael never seemed to take an interest in him, let alone allow himself to be bothered by his existence.

Ashton stayed behind you and you realized that you were meant to do something. But as you watched the much bigger, both physically and in authority, people surrounding Michael, unable to do much of anything you weren’t sure what. What were you meant to do? Especially as the ex-girlfriend who he obviously didn’t have much respect for. Not enough to stay loyal to anyway.

You took a few timid steps forward, still really unsure of what your purpose was. A part of you felt stupid for running to him as soon as he needed help, when he never even asked for you. What if he didn’t even want to see you?

But as you stared at the violent scene in front of you, you had to do something. You felt sick at it, there was no good in violence even in anger and you knew that wasn’t a feeling Michael reciprocated but when you were together, he had at least started to adopt similar thoughts. He always stopped when he was going too far. But perhaps that was more for your benefit than it was his beliefs. It was hard to believe someone you loved so deeply was capable of being violent to this point.

“Michael!” You yelled out, loud enough for him to hear you over the other voices and his own angry, incomprehensible yelling.

It was magical, almost, how quickly all of his actions stopped. How he froze up at the sound of your voice. You could hardly believe you were the reason, the one who held that power over him.

But it was undeniable as he let go of Luke abruptly, causing the poor guy to drop to the ground with no strength to hold himself up.

Even the professors next to Michael stared at you, wide-eyed. Unsure of how this short, scared looking girl managed to stop the angry giant in front of them. You were just as surprised as they were.

That surprise quickly turned into a deep set concern, one you couldn’t turn off no matter how much you wanted to, when Michael turned around. He turned slowly, almost as if he was afraid his ears had deceived him, given him something he had so desperately wanted to hear: your sweet voice saying his name again.

But it wasn’t a mistake. There you were, in front of him again. You looked gorgeous, though you always did to him. You were finally starting to wear colors again, a light pink dress with small cherries decorated over it. Michael’s heart constricted and his airway felt just a little tighter as he stared at you. You were actually there, for him.

You, on the other hand, furrowed your brows as you looked at Michael’s beautiful face. It was marred with blood (you weren’t sure if it was Luke’s or the blood from his knuckles) and the hints of frustration were still there, along with his red, tear rimmed, eyes. He looked tired, an almost ghostly pallor colored his face. It looked like he hadn’t slept well in weeks. You’d never seen him look this destroyed. You wished you didn’t feel that yearning to throw your arms around him, kiss him and make him feel better.

“Y/N…” Michael’s voice was hesitant yet gruff.

Then he moved forward, quicker than he had in a while, and enveloped you into a tight hug. He wrapped around your entire body and seemed to engulf you entirely. Your head was at his chest and you could feel him nuzzling his face into your neck as much as he could, inhaling your scent. He was finally touching your skin again and that alone let him feel connected to you. Reveling in everything he had been deprived of for months. He missed you so much.

He couldn’t even tell you everything he wanted to say. The million ‘sorry’s he had wanted to say to you since you walked out of his life, the ‘I love you’s were lost to the overwhelming feeling of gratefulness. Grateful that you were there for him, that you didn’t even go to check on Luke. No, the first thing you said was his name.

You, on the other hand, were frozen in his arms. You didn’t move, didn’t reciprocate the hug. In fact, you felt your lip start to tremble. You felt suffocated. Having him this close just reminded you of everything you had lost, everything Michael had thrown away. For a girl who he never even looked at again (he made a point of that).

Wiggling, you hoped he would get the message and let you go. But he was too mesmerized by the situation, wishing to never let you go again to notice. You had a small nagging sentiment that urged you to just let go, enjoy this moment. But the painful hurt that you still felt at just the thought of Michael had you pushing firmly against him.

This time he did loosen his grip on you, giving you opportunity to step back out of his arms. He didn’t want to, you knew it from the pained expression on his face, an expression that told you the last thing he wanted was to let you go.

“Y/N…” He started but your sharp eyes cut him off.

You looked much more sure of yourself than you felt. Your expression was stern and your voice was level. You were really proud of yourself for that.

“We’re over Michael. Don’t.”

How sad was it that even at your harsh words, he took solace in the fact that you had finally spoken to him. Your beautiful voice was finally being directed at him again.

And it was such a small thing compared to your sentence as a whole, but when you called him Michael, he felt a part of him break. Ever since your relationship had gotten serious, you called him Mikey. Such a cute little name for a boy that was anything but. If anyone else called him that, he would hate it and probably hurt the person saying it so they’d know just how much he hated it. But it was a nickname from you, something no one else called him. He’d come to love it just as much as he loved you, because it was something the two of you shared and embodied just how different Michael was with you. He was Mikey.

But it appeared he had destroyed that the moment he had destroyed the relationship.

Sure, you had called him by his full name plenty of times. But never quite with the betrayed and angry eyes, the ones that looked at him as if he was a stranger, as if he was a monster that brought nothing but destruction with him.

His heart felt like it was being constricted to the point where he was afraid it would burst. You walked directly past him without even looking twice at him, as if him having you so close to him for even just a millisecond didn’t kill him inside. He wanted to drop to his knees when you squatted down to check on Luke.

This wasn’t supposed to be happening. This shouldn’t have happened. He should’ve had you with him forever, loving each other for the rest of your lives; never worrying about you getting asked out by another man, always feeling loved and needed because that was just how you always made him feel, never missing you because you’d always be there and never feeling alone because all those feelings of abandonment and loneliness he used to feel had disappeared the second he met you.

“I’m so sorry…” He heard your chiming voice say down to Luke, your hands hovering over his face but not touching because of the amount of blood, you didn’t want to hurt him more than he already was.

Michael had to look away. Couldn’t handle seeing your worried eyes, your cutely concerned face directed to the jock. His entire body felt electrified with regret but he wasn’t sure if it was regret at what he had done to you or regret at having beaten Luke, because if he hadn’t, maybe Michael wouldn’t have to witness first hand you solidifying just how much he ruined everything. His entire body was slumped, drained of any energy and any anger he had moments ago. Now all he felt was a deep set longing and regret.

He didn’t think those feelings would ever go away. It felt like they were eating at him.

So when Ashton stepped forward, taking a hold of his shoulders, and began pushing him away; away from you, from the trouble he’d caused, the blood (and away from the responsibility as he knew no one would testify against him), he allowed it.

♔

Your fingers were tapping the edge of your phone nervously. You weren’t really sure what you were thinking, if you were at all. But you had sent the message anyway, forgoing any of your usual overthinking.

You flipped the phone over to illuminate your face in the dusk sky when you felt the vibration of a notification. You held your breath as you opened the text from the man you had been texting nonstop for months now; your sense of security and understanding.

justin

Are you sure? I thought you didn’t like parties much.

Your heart was beating out of your chest. He was right. You didn’t like parties and since Michael cheated on you, it had grown to a full blown hate. You didn’t tend to hate things, it wasn’t who you were. But every time you thought of what happened, the way Michael took a girl home from a party, the way he forgot completely about you because of it, there was no other way to describe the cold feeling pulsing through your body.

So when the invite to a frat party was airdropped to your phone, your first desire was to delete it, throw your phone across the room and cry (or scream, or both). But then you thought about it. Maybe facing the very thing that made you sick to the stomach, made you want to vomit, would be the closure you needed. It could help you finally get over the misguided love and care you still felt for the guy that broke your heart. Even if it didn’t, you were willing to try anything. Maybe you could finally get him out of your mind, get rid of the soft spot, the love you had for him once and for all. Maybe you’d finally be fully happy again, feel like yourself, then.

me

I don’t. But I think it might do me some good to go to one, especially right now. I know you don’t like that scene either but since you’re in town…do you want to come with me?

In town he was. He had flown down for the long weekend and a part of you wasn’t sure what to think about the fact that he had booked the flight right after you told him about what happened with Michael and Luke.

It wasn’t something you liked to think of much. It was jarring to finally see Michael again in that way. To see the man you had been with for so many years, the one you still loved, be so violent and aggressive. You’ve seen him mad, you’ve seen him fight before, but never to that extent. You couldn’t quite get Luke’s bashed face out of your head. You wondered exactly what Luke had done to deserve that, if anything, considering just how much more short tempered Michael had become. At least he was alright now.

It was also a little frightening to see the power you held over Michael, confusing as to why. Who were you to be able to stop him when no one else could, it wasn’t fair to feel as though you were important to him when he had shown you very vividly that you weren’t. That you were replaceable. It was scarier even to have been in his arms again. You hated the way your body betrayed you by longing for it so much, the way you felt instantly calm in his arms, never wanting to leave. The way you still loved him and wanted to go back to him. You pushed those thoughts away as deeply as you could.

When Justin told you all those months ago that you could text him for anything, you took it very literally. And it made you feel so accepted that he didn’t mind you texting him at 3 in the morning to rant about whatever was on your mind. It was what you normally would’ve done with Michael but it felt just as good to do it with Justin. Better even because your memories with the blond boy weren’t tainted. The kiss hadn’t made anything awkward because he was just that great of a guy to know it was something that you did when you weren’t in your right mind. Justin had given you a safe space, one where you could let out all your feelings without being judged or pitied. And you appreciated him for it.

Justin wasn’t one for parties, just like you. In fact, in high school, the two of you would often be together talking about exams, college and homework while the rest of your friends were out celebrating life. And neither of you minded one bit. You were still like that and you definitely knew he was as well. Which is why when his typing bubble came up, you were worried he would deny you and you would have to go by yourself. You’d have to face the shame of going to the scene of the crime alone.

justin

I’ll be right over.

You tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling that was erupting in you.

♔

Michael stared at Ashton incredulously.

“No, I don’t want to go to a fucking party.” He growled at the brown haired boy standing in the doorway of his dim room. He preferred to keep the lights as low as possible, if not off. The last time his room was fully lit was when you were in there. And he wasn’t quite sure he could take that piece of memory and replace it with this much lonelier reality.

Michael had sworn off parties and stopped drinking. In fact, he refused to even hear about it. No one invited him to parties or handed him drinks anymore either because they knew just how sensitive of a topic it was for him. It might’ve been misplaced anger. But it was there nonetheless. As much as he blamed himself, he blamed that culture for what happened. And he refused to be a part of it anymore. Especially when he couldn’t even pass by a frat or sorority house without being hit with the fact that you weren’t his girlfriend anymore and that the reason happened right there. He couldn’t even have a drink in his hand without wanting to chuck it across the room - preferably at someone’s head.

He wasn’t only on a party ban but also on a girl ban. It wasn’t something he was consciously doing but he couldn’t imagine doing anything other than that. And celibacy was not something Michael was used to doing, before or with you. But his body was physically rejecting any girl that came near him, anyone other than you. Not like he went out to find girls, in fact with the way his mind was constantly on you, remembering the good times (before everything went to shit), other women never crossed his mind. Michael only remembered that he was still attracting attention when they approached him and even then, nothing they said ever processed in his mind. All he saw was someone that wasn’t you and he moved along.

Ashton sighed, the only light coming from the living room behind him. He understood where Michael was coming from, he did. Which is why he never forced him to go anywhere, even if he thought it could cheer him up, just like this Epsilon party - his favorite. But after the thing with Luke, it had been hard to get him out of the house at all. It was like he was traumatized from the whole thing, he couldn’t even step on campus.

It had nothing to do with Luke, of course. In fact, when Ashton filled him in that you had in fact, not gone on a date with him, Ashton saw a look of relief on his friend’s face that he had never quite seen before. But it had everything to do with the feeling of drowning, suffocating, coming back after seeing you again; after seeing you and being frozen out of your forgiveness and love. He really fucked up.

Ashton considered his next words. He didn’t want to give his friend false hope, only for it to be snuffed out again. But he knew Michael wouldn’t get up off of his bed if he didn’t, he would stay in that position, listening to angry, sad music alone until he fell asleep and was able to dream of you, dream that everything was like it used to be. He needed out of the house and to confront his sins, instead of wallowing in them.

“Y/N might be there.”

He’d never seen Michael sit up as fast as he did then. And all his hesitancy in giving Michael false ideas had gone to waste, it was evident in the way his face lit up, the way his eyes had the far away look that showed all the what-ifs running through his mind.

“How do you know?”

“Cal invited her.” Ashton murmured, hoping that if he spoke soft and slow, then Michael’s hope might pop, he might come back to reality. “It’s at his frat, Epsilon so he sent her the flyer. I’m pretty sure he said she was interested.”

Michael was already standing up, “What are we waiting for then.” He could put aside his aversion to parties, especially greek life parties for you. He’d do it because of you. If it meant he could see you again, talk to you. Maybe even be able to beg for forgiveness like he’d always wanted to. Like he had been unable to fully do after the fight because he had been too stunned by your presence, at having your beauty in front of him again. It had rendered him too useless to even think.

Ashton struggled to find the right words when Michael pushed past him in the doorway and headed to the front door.

“Right…but, dude, remember she still probably won’t-”

“Don’t say it.” Michael didn’t stop walking but his words were warning. His tone didn’t pack the usual punch though, it was too tinged with choked back sadness to be as threatening as he wanted.

He glanced down at his phone, didn’t unlock it, just stared for a moment in silence. Ashton wished he didn’t see the flash of Michael’s phone before he put it in his pocket, didn’t see your smiling face reflected back at him. Maybe then he wouldn’t have a pit in his stomach at what exactly he was taking his friend to and bringing to you. More heartache?

♔

Michael’s heart was beating a million beats per minute. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt nervous but this was definitely it. Just the thought of seeing you again just for you to brush him off, say you were over him, for you to have finally figured out you were too good for him that entire time. All of that was enough for him to want to go back home, try again some other time. Because he didn’t know if he could handle you not forgiving him and finally losing you for good.

He didn’t care about the calls of his name as soon as he entered the room. He slipped right past Calum who had waited up front to greet Ashton and Michael. He had one goal in being there. To find you. Everything else was irrelevant

He just didn’t expect to find you against the wall, a drink in your hand and Justin standing in front of you, talking to you animately. In the same position you and him had been in multiple times. Justin was leaning down so you could hear him better; the music was so loud. Your lips were slightly parted, your big eyes sparkling like they used to when you looked at him as you nodded at whatever the blond boy was saying to you.

You looked beautiful. You were wearing the short, white dress that contrasted so beautifully with your skin tone. The one he always said made you look like an angel. The one he loved to fuck you in especially, to really solidify him taking away that pureness. But now you didn’t wear it for him.

Michael was already broken hearted. But nothing compared to the feeling of his heart being ripped out of his chest when he saw you with the one man Michael had always felt insecure next to. The one you knew so well, the one who was perfect inside and out and wanted you the same way Michael did though not nearly as intensely and deeply. He hated the blond boy. Why did he always have to be around?

To add insult to injury, Michael watched with frozen horror as you raised the alcohol to your lips and sipped. Your face scrunched up at the taste so at least it hadn’t become a vice of yours. But still, you had slipped into something you never wanted to before. Even if it was just to give you the extra push to let loose, to give you the comfort in a setting that brought you so much pain. Michael pushed you to do something you had been so against. His sweet pure girl. It was his worse nightmare, being such a bad influence in your life. But he had succeeded. And he felt like everything was wrong in the world.

Michael felt a bad taste in his mouth as he saw Justin move closer, too close, so he could whisper in your ear. He wanted to rip off the hand he had on your bare shoulder. When he saw your red cheeks, he wanted to kill something. Your blush was one of Michael’s favorite parts about you, it made your already cute and innocent face look even more so and it did wonders for Michael’s libido and ego, a fact you were very much aware of. A fact that was still true now, even if it wasn’t directed to him. No now, you were blushing for him. For the man that Michael had to fight against in order to keep his relationship in the first place. You had rejected Luke but now it was Justin in front of you. Had he just pushed you back into the rich boy’s arms? Did he give him a free space to finally win your heart?

The bastard was too much of a pussy to even keep that stupid drink away from you like he knew you wanted. He couldn’t protect you like Michael could.

His only solace was when he finally watched Justin move away from you. He watched with jealous eyes as he rounded a corner to find a quiet place to take a call. His phone was already at his ear and his free hand covered his other ear to help him hear the line better.

Michael hadn’t even moved when Ashton and Calum came up beside him, patting his shoulder. “We got you, bro.” And then they followed Justin out of the room, giving him the security that they would buy him some time.

His heart accelerated again, coming alive. Here was his chance, you were alone, right in front of him and he had all the time in the world. But if he didn’t move now, he might lose you forever to the persistent man you came with.

♔

It was so hot.

You weren’t sure if it was the amount of people in the packed house or the drink in your hand. Granted, you’d only taken a grand total of 2 sips and while you definitely figured out it was not for you, the ability of it to help you forget your misfortunes was still to be determined. You were sure it was because you weren’t drunk, if just a bit buzzed, but you had no intention of getting to that level anyway. So for now, it would just be a decoration in your hand.

You touched your cheeks a little after Justin left. They felt burning and you had no doubt you were blushing wildly. More than half of it had to be because of Justin. He was standing so close with those kind blue eyes. He made it so easy to forget.

“Y/N.” But it was impossible to forget completely when you were always within the same campus as the man you were trying so desperately to get out of your head.

It was disheartening the way your stomach dropped at his voice. Especially because this could only mean one thing, he was still partying. Even after what he did, he was still attending, still finding other girls probably. While you were trying hard to forget, he had already forgotten you.

You felt your lips quiver and your ears burned with heat and humiliation by the time he stood in front of you. You were backed into a corner already so there was no way to escape. That didn’t stop your eyes from looking around you from some sort of exit, for Justin to come back, anything. As if his body didn’t block the majority of your eyesight.

So you were forced to just look up, your neck craning to fully look at him. You’d almost forgotten how tall he was, you had stood so far away from him at the Quad it didn’t give you the time to fully appreciate his height.

He looked just as different as he looked at the Quad. His hair was a mess, as if he had just gotten up from bed. Deep purple circles ran alongside the bottom of his eyes from lack of sleep.

But, wearing a black bomber over a black t-shirt, his silver chain contrasting perfectly against the dark fabric, he still looked great. And then you saw them. The tattoos encircling his entire neck were shadowed just right so you could appreciate their dark colors. Then one of his hands moved, allowing you to fully see the artwork that traveled from the edge of his sleeves to the edge of his finger, the ones that drove you especially crazy. Particularly when they were holding your much smaller hand gently, so different from what would be expected. Or when they were around your neck.

You blamed the alcohol for how your body stiffened, a pooling of wetness between your legs. Had it really been that long, were you really so sex-deprived that even just a look at him had you horny? He really had corrupted you. Before, you didn’t think of sex much but you’d gotten too accustomed, spoiled, with the way he made you feel, something that happened so often that just a few months without had left you feeling more lonely than ever.

His eyes explored your face, trailing especially onto your full pink lips before they met your eyes. It was like a trance you were both in and you weren’t completely sure you were breathing.

He took the gross cup from your hands, tossing it aside as if it didn’t contain liquid.

“Who the fuck gave you that?” His words were so familiar and for a moment, you could almost imagine that nothing had happened. That he was still the protective boyfriend you loved so much. “You don’t drink.”

Normally the drink would never reach your hand, Michael would make sure of it. He always wanted to preserve your innocence from any hard substances he partook in. But Justin was just as out of his element as you were, just as nervous. So when you were handed a drink, Justin didn’t do anything to stop it besides looking at you nervously. You wished you didn’t feel the bit of disappointment at just how different he was from what you wanted, from Michael.

The trance was broken as soon as he lifted his hand to your face, to touch your cheek like he had always done without question. But this time you pulled your head back before his fingers could touch your skin.

“Don’t touch me.” Because you were still very aware what him being there meant. The humiliation and betrayal he caused you was still a very fresh wound.

You wished you could take pleasure in the pained look that flashed across his face. His face dropped, much like it did in the Quad, and settled in your neck. He wasn’t touching you but this was his only chance to get you to listen and he wasn’t going to throw it away. Right then, it felt like his entire future was hanging on by a thin strand. He didn’t care what he looked like to anyone watching, didn’t care if he looked weak or whipped. He’d go down on his knees to beg for you back if that’s what it took.

You were blushing again as soon as you felt his breath on your skin. You had to close your eyes and force yourself to breathe, otherwise the breath would be stuck in a knot at your throat.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered so only you heard, his voice was dripping with sincerity. It almost sounded sad. “I was drunk and I thought it was you. I would’ve never….fuck, if I was conscious enough to know, it wouldn’t have happened. It meant nothing. She was nothing. I love you so much, baby girl.” He felt you flinch at the name. “I love you. Too much to do that knowingly and too much to want to. You’re it for me. I know I fucked up, but I’m sorry.”

He repeated his love for you as if there wasn’t enough times that he could say it that would come close to encompassing just how much he did. His heart was thumping so hard he was sure you could hear it. He inhaled your scent, taking pleasure at being so close to you after so long. He finally felt at home again, his heart and body felt like they were buzzing with electricity. You made him feel alive.

“That’s not an excuse.” And then his heart deflated in a way only you had the ability to make it. “If you couldn’t handle your alcohol, that’s your fault. It doesn’t matter if you love me if the way you act the minute I’m not beside you shows the complete opposite. When I did nothing but support and love you, when I was fine even when I knew that you had screwed half of the girls on campus, I trusted you even then. I didn’t deserve that. You humiliated me, Michael, to the entire campus. You betrayed me. I’m not sure you know what love is. Because you’re not the man I thought you were.”

You pushed him away at that point and took solace in the way he let himself be pushed away. Now there were a good couple inches between you and you finally felt like you could breathe again, the fuzziness in your mind at having him so close was fading slowly. Your quick heartbeat, which had started racing the moment he said I love you again, three little words you thought you’d never hear again from his mouth, was still going hard.

Your eyes were watering over, tears threatening to fall but your face screamed anger. The anger you had felt for months finally letting out. But it was an anger mixed with a sad frustration which couldn’t be taken out of your expression. And that was what hurt Michael the most.

Seeing you look so in pain, so broken when all you deserved to be was happy and loved. He had done this. But even when his heart stuttered as he looked at you, he wanted nothing more to hug you, kiss the pain the away. He was selfish. Too selfish for you. But he loved you too much to let you go. You were the best thing thats ever happened to him, the best thing in his life.

His hand moved again, this time, taking a hold of your upper arms. He only meant to hold you, test the waters to see if maybe his touch could bring you back to him. But he didn’t expect the gasp that escaped you as soon as his cool fingertips grazed along your warm skin. Michael watched with wonder as your eyes widened and your blush deepened. You were a goddess.

A goddess with a reaction that Michael knew more than well. Michael watched you carefully, the way your teeth caught your bottom lip, the way your pressed your thighs together as you attempted to step back. He had missed the way your body reacted to him. How could he have ever mistaken you when you were so obviously awe-inspiringly beautiful and magical to watch unfold. Just watching you was enough to get him off.

Sex was what got him in this mess in the first place. But it was also the one thing he knew you would still want him for, need him for. And he was desperate enough to fill in that role, even if it would just result in more hope and heartbreak for him, even if, for you, he would only act as a means to an end. Anything to have you in his life for a little while longer. Anything to hold back to inevitable and nonreversible separation you no doubt wanted. He would take what he could get.

He had said to you once that he would ruin you for all men so that eventually you would always need him, always run back to him, even if it was only to get off. Neither of you had expected to get to the point where it would come true. But here you were.

Michael knew you so well, knew what you liked, what you reacted for. So it was no big surprise when he closed the gap between you two, pushing you against the wall with his lips directly at your ear, taking advantage of your state.

“Missed you, little one.”

The way he ducked down, the way his hands were trapping you in place. Everything made you feel so small, so dominated that you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your mouth. And he loved it too, seeing your small frame so tiny and fragile, helpless. His for the taking, his to break. His.

You hated feeling this weak in front of him but it’d been too long, you needed it, you needed him. Because no matter how much you hated him at that moment, there was no doubt that no one could make you feel as good, as satisfied as he could. Not that there was anyone else you trusted or loved enough to try.

“You’re still so good for me, bet your body has missed me, missed my cock. Do you remember how good it feels?” You were sure he chose his words carefully. Saying what he knew had you weak to the knees so you couldn’t deny him.

Michael watched your small figure, looking up at him with innocently hungry eyes. His hand on your arm trailed tantalizingly upward and downward. Your skin burned wherever he touched. His other hand rested firmly on your hips, holding you as if you would disappear if he loosened his grip. All he could think was that he was actually touching you again. It was like he could breathe for the first time in a long time.

But this was wrong. You were giving in and you could feel your self control slipping from you. It was replaced with an urge to let him do whatever he wanted to you, to let out all your pent up emotions through one night that you knew would blow you away.

Michael’s eyes focused on your lips, his thumb moving up to them and this time you let him. His thumb played with your bottom lip while the rest of his fingers rested on your jaw. You felt his thumb move into your mouth superficially. Your gaze never left his as your tongue slid on the pad of his digit before he brought it back out, using it to drag your bottom lip down.

You were ethereal and he was nothing short of hellish. But it was the type of destruction you couldn’t seem to stay away from.

“It’s been so long, baby girl. I’ve wanted you for months, missed your tight little pussy taking my cock so well. Jacked off so much thinking about it.” Michael’s words were filthy, too filthy for a public party where the only thing between you and the rest of the partygoers was Michael’s large frame draped around you. In fact, you weren’t sure anyone could even see you as Michael’s broad shoulders covered you entirely. It just seemed as if he was standing hunched over nothing. That particular thought drew a moan out of your mouth.

“Bet you’ve been needy. My spoiled girl wanting to get her pussy wrecked by my big cock like you’re used to, but your fingers just don’t feel the same, do they?” Michael nipped at your neck slightly making you nod out desperately.

You’d missed this so much, the feeling of complete domination over you, the way he treated you so roughly yet lovingly at the same time. That feeling was complete when his lips found your neck while his hand came down to the base of your throat and squeezed. He didn’t kiss your neck, not yet, not without your words. But his lips feathered over your skin like a ghost, enough for you to just get a taste. Enough for you to want more.

“Come on, little one. Let me help. Let me make you feel good.”

Michael groaned out as he saw your blush deepened and one of his knees came up between your bodies, prying your legs open just enough for the fabric of his ripped jeans to touch your damp panties. One of his hands tugged sharply at your hair.

“M-Michael…” You couldn’t think straight. You were turned on in a way only he was able to do. All you could think was of his scent, the way his strong shoulders felt when your hands finally touched him for the first time in months. His muscles felt firm and powerful, the intimidating and possessive aura that seemed to scream at everyone to stay away was held there and as you squeezed them, feeling his body, the fire burning beneath your heart and your sex was scorching hot. You were clenching helplessly around nothing. You needed him.

But then you saw him, the boy you had come to the party with. The one you had invited. The one who had stayed by your side and cared for you. Justin was staring at you with wide eyes. His hand was in his ruffled hair, unsure of what to do or say as he watched you come undone just by Michael’s presence. Calum was right behind him, flustered at having him slip away.

It was almost shameful to think of what you must look like to him. Weak, desperate, lustful, submissive. You felt bad, even after everything, you were choosing Michael again. Even after Justin comforted you, even after that kiss. And he had front row tickets this time. Your face burned as you breathed out for Michael to stop.

Michael moved away, his focus entirely on you, his large hand entwining in yours as he pulled you back from against the wall. “Let’s go.”

Your heart was stuttering when you stared at Justin. There were so many mixed emotions in your mind. You were desperate for Michael at that point, if you hadn’t been gazing at Justin’s hurt face, you would’ve left without question. But Justin was there and worse he was there for you. You were the one that invited him, you were the one who took him out of his own life so he could be there for you. And now you were abandoning him for the guy that hurt you in the first place.

You hoped your eyes translated all the regret you felt at how you were making him feel at the moment. You didn’t meant to play with his feelings or lead him on, in fact you were sure your own feelings were starting to be messed with in the process. But you were too far gone to reject Michael, to think logically. You needed something only he could satisfy you with and you needed that gratification.

When you saw a small nod come from Justin, you almost sighed in relief. You didn’t need his permission but his understanding, or at least acceptance of what you were doing made you feel less guilty when you nodded up at Michael. Not for the first time were you struck with his beauty, he reminded you of danger in a way. But you weren’t scared. Instead you were letting him lead you wherever he wanted. His dark hair swept across his forehead perfectly. His deep eyes still stared at you with the same adoration they always had and the secretive smile that was only for you was still there as well.

It felt especially familiar when he pulled you into his side, wrapping one arm protectively around your shoulder, keeping you there and proudly showing off who you still belonged to, to the entire party. He knew that in the state you were in right then, the horny mess he had left you in, you wouldn’t resist. Michael was on cloud nine. He was finally getting what he wanted, had been desperately needing this whole time. You were back in his arms like you were always meant to be, where you belonged and after finally claiming you again, getting to feel your body again, you could finally listen to him, forgive him even. But you found it ironic; how you came to the party to get closure but you were leaving in his arms.

You didn’t miss the stares your little reunion was getting. It was no secret on campus the breakup had been messy, so messy Michael had become unmanageable. So to see your small figure right next to him again was surprising, even more so to see him looking so content in a way no one had seen him look in months.

The only thought that could make you feel less pathetic was the knowledge that this wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t mean anything. You weren’t docile, he was just a good fuck. Once you got it out of your system, once you got him out of your system, you could officially move on. Just one more night for the books. That’s what you told yourself at least.

♔

Michael pushed you against the corridor walls as soon as he closed the front door. He had his hand where your jaw met your neck, holding your face up to him. The chain around his neck dangled between you due to the height difference of him having to very much lean down and over to reach your lips. You were so small. But you fit so perfectly with him. The kiss was hot and heavy. It was mixed with everything: longing, regret, desperation and lust. He held your jaw still so he could control the pace and you were more than happy to let him. His tongue explored your mouth expertly and you moaned against his lips. You had missed him. He felt like he was in a dream, getting to kiss you again. You wished you didn’t still feel the completeness, the security you always felt with him.

“Missed you so much.” He said as he pulled away, pecking your lips once more before stepping aside. “You have no idea how much I love you, princess.”

Your breath was taken away at the sound of the loving nickname. You could almost cry at how good it felt to feel his love and sincerity again, coming right from his mouth. You had lost so much.

But you didn’t answer, you weren’t there to forgive him. So you didn’t. Instead you walked to where his door met the living room. He let you, following behind you closely but not without the setting of his jaw. But still, he couldn’t shake the disbelief he felt that you were finally back home. He was finally back home with you.

The house felt like you were coming back home. Everything was just as you left it, if not just slightly messier. It was bittersweet walking the familiar corridor to the living room.

That is where you stopped cold. The couch. The stupid couch.

There it was, the black, cracked old couch where Michael had cheated on you. It was still in the living room and you felt as you did when you first walked in on them. To think he didn’t even care enough to get rid of it. Probably sat on it everyday without even caring what happened on it. Physically recoiling, your mind cleared up just a bit to scream at you to leave. What were you even doing back there? Hurting yourself more.

You wanted to run, to go back home and cry your feelings out but you were frozen in place. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sofa. You’d never hated an inanimate object more. You were humiliated all over again.

You didn’t realize you weren’t breathing until you felt Michael slide his arms around your body from behind. One of his hands moved down to hold your hand while the other arm was around your waist. You felt his upper body on you, his chest touching your back. You even felt his hardness poke your thigh. He hunched down enough to place his chin on top of your head. You didn’t want to be comforted, not by him. But you couldn’t help but close your eyes and take in a fresh breath at the security his embrace provided you.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated and you almost wondered if he was going to say anything beside that the entire night. “I’m going to get rid of it, I promise.”

You swallowed thickly, “I don’t care.”

His grip on you tightened and the butterflies in your stomach fluttered, “Don’t say that. I can’t even look at that thing without hating the memory of it.” His thumb drew circles on your hand, “I barely leave my room so I won’t have to pass by it.”

It felt like your heart skipped a beat. You could almost bring yourself to believe that he regretted what he did, that he ever loved you like he claimed. But you weren’t there for that.

So you stepped out of his grasp easily and moved to go into the room that you had come to know so well but had become nothing more than a memory. You had a feeling that, as you turned the lights on in his otherwise dark room, it was the first time in a while his room had been illuminated with light. His room was messy, strewn with cigarette buds on every surface, some blunts laid out in the open. Unidentified pills strewn every once and a while. You stopped looking after a while, it hurt too much to think of just what exactly he had been resorting to without you. You had used academics to take away the pain, Michael had evidently chosen a different route.

Michael did not miss a beat following you into his room like a lost puppy (a way he would only be like when following you), closing his door behind him in anticipation. He didn’t want to risk losing the mood, the spark that was currently burning bright between you two.

When you reached up and, by his neck, pulled him down to kiss you again, he let you. He let himself be guided back to his bed until he fell on top of you. Holding himself up with one hand, the other traveled down to push the straps of your dress off of your shoulders. A part of him wondered how hot it would be to fuck you in that dress, to see you coming undone for him in such a unblemished design. But he needed to see your body, see you bare and vulnerable for him after so much time.

And the sight was everything he remembered it being. The way you were so responsive to him, the small whines of pleasure leaving your kiss-plumped lips. His lips traveled down your familiar body, basking in the fact that you weren’t pushing him away but instead begging for more. You had gone home with him, you had abandoned Justin for him. He was feeling much like a starving man getting his first taste of satisfaction in a while.

“Who’s pussy is this?”

When you first felt Michael’s tongue on you, your back arched involuntarily, a gasp leaving your lips. It’d been so long. You had almost forgotten how good it felt, how good he was at everything. But your body hadn’t forgotten, it had been yearning for him and now that it had him back, you couldn’t help the way you reacted so easily to him.

“Yours, daddy” The words came to naturally to you even then.

Your words were a lot for him. You were submitting to him so beautifully in a way he wasn’t sure you would anymore. But you felt so blissful with him again, more than you’ve felt in a while, you couldn’t help it. To hear you call yourself his again had his stomach in flutters. He hadn’t lost you. Even more so to have you letting him dominate you like he deemed fit again.

You felt his tongue flick up your slit, between your folds. Vibrations sounded pleasurably as he moaned at your taste. He swirled his tongue around your clit as his open mouth encased it, sucking it at just the right moments that felt your eyes almost rolling back into your head.

Your moans were high pitched and desperate as you grabbed onto his dark hair and kept him right where he was. Not that he would’ve tried to stop anyway. He was at wonder with how good you tasted, your body’s sweet reaction to him, and how wet you were - for him. The bulge in his pants was infinitely bigger and more strained than it was before, if that were possible.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs, keeping your writhing form still so he could stay in between your legs. And it wasn’t something you wanted to be thinking about but seeing his tattooed hands and fingers around your own untouched skin, a sight you had missed so much for so long, had you whining, pushing your hips against his face.

Michael took his mouth off of you only for a second. Using his index and middle finger, he spread your lips to leave you completely exposed to him. In the way you only ever were with him.

His glance at you had you biting you lip, “You’re soaking, baby girl. I missed this cunt so much.”  

And then his lips were back on you. His tongue licked your hole and your back arched when he dipped inside you just a bit. But it was enough for you to be pulling at his hair roughly and for you to hear him hiss and curse out in pleasure at the hint of pain.

He teased your entrance just a bit longer before going back to your clit, nibbling it in the slightest way. And you wish you could have the decency to be embarrassed at how quickly you came all over his face afterward.

But you didn’t feel embarrassed. How could you when all he did was lick up your juices before coming back up to his full towering height over you, taking a hold of the back of your neck and smashing his mouth to yours. You tasted yourself as his tongue explored your mouth. Michael’s eyes were dark with his pupils almost blown out with the euphoria of not just having you back with him but having you just cum again because of him. It was like all his dirty fantasies he had dreamed of since the breakup, but this time he wouldn’t have to get off with his own hand, annoyed and alone. This time it was real.

His hand found its way your neck, choking you just so. Both on your knees, your smaller figure had to look up at him by craning your neck. He was still fully clothed while you were in front of him, completely naked. You felt one of his fingers prod your lips open and as he stared down at you, his hand squeezing your neck a little more, you knew what he wanted to see.

“You taste so good.” You opened your mouth easily, trying not to think of the way you were too turned on by what was going to happen. When he spit in your awaiting mouth, you saw him rubbing himself through his jeans at the sight of you swallowing. You were still his. “Dirty girl.”

His words, your submission, it was almost like nothing had changed. Your small hands even reached out and unbuckled his belt and seeing that, coupled with your shy eyes staring up at him, made him sigh in bliss as he helped you get his pants and boxers off.

His dick was harder than it had been for months and he almost forgot the feeling of your tight walls around him but he had definitely still remembered the overwhelming need to be inside you, to be connected with you in such an intimate way that he only ever experienced with you.

He wanted to cherish the moment as much as he could because he wasn’t sure what time would bring after it. But at the same time he wanted to completely ruin you, fuck you until your mind was only filled with his name, until you could barely walk, so much that you wouldn’t leave him, if only for the pleasure he brought you. And you made those dark needs easier with your innocent wide eyes and cute whines leaving your writhing body.

But it was as if the delicate moment was broken the minute Michael laid you down completely and moved on top of you, held up only by one of his hands. Both of you naked, you couldn’t help but stare up at him and only see what that other girl saw the night of the party. You thought only of the same words Michael was using with you tonight being directed to her. She experienced something that was only ever meant for you. And suddenly you felt dirty. His hands trailing up and down your body, the same ones that had felt the blonde’s body, felt as if they were burning you.

“Wait, stop.” You laid your hand on his shoulder before he could even start lining up to your entrance. And a part of your heart melted in appreciation when he did stop, without question. You had lost a great boyfriend that respected your boundaries, consent and wishes. But then you caught yourself. He lost you.

Michael’s eyes snapped to you immediately, looking for any sign of what he did wrong. An apology was already at his lips when your eyes started watering.

“I ca-I can’t. I’m only picturing what you did with…with her.” Michael felt his shoulders sag at the way his actions were breaking you apart, preventing you from even feeling the love he had always been able to translate through to you with sex. “This isn’t special anymore Michael, you-you gave this to another girl, I feel gross.”

But Michael was shaking his head, his eyes never leaving yours. He felt a sense of urgency and sadness strike in him. Sadness that the girl who he loved, the only one who has ever owned his heart more than even himself, felt like she wasn’t special. As if Michael didn’t need to breath you in to feel alive, to feel anything but the anger swirling in what seemed like a constant storm within him. And urgency to get you to see that he didn’t give what you and him had to anyone. No one has ever and will never experience what you experienced with him. How could they? Nothing feels right when it’s not with you.

He leaned as close as he dared, “I didn’t…I didn’t touch her or talk to her like I do when I’m with you. I’ve never done that with anyone else…I’m only like that with you. You’re the only girl I’ll ever show that side to because you’re my girlfriend, you’re the only girl I’ve been with that I love. No one else.” It was the first time you’d heard him stutter. You weren’t his girlfriend, not anymore. But you didn’t correct him.

You felt Michael’s lips on your neck, kissing right where your pulse was. One of his hands moved your hair out of the way gently and that felt more intimate than anything else you had just done. His lips trailed to your ear.

“It was only one time.” He continued and both of you cringed at that. Once or not, it didn’t matter and he knew it. The deep, soul wrenching regret he still felt was proof of it. But still he continued, “And it was a mistake, I regret it. It’ll never happen again. I fucking went soft halfway through because even when I was drunk out of my mind I couldn’t be like that with anyone but you. She’s nothing to me. I haven’t touched anyone else. I haven’t wanted to.”

It was hard for you to wrap your head around; that something that seemed so intimate and special to you, could mean practically nothing to him if it wasn’t with you.

Despite your best efforts to deny his effect on you, his affection had calmed you. Your breathing had evened but you still looked hesitant, “But you still go out partying…” You wished you didn’t sound so jealous when you said it. You wished you could even look him in the eyes.

He nipped at your ear, sending goosebumps down your arms. “I don’t. I only went tonight for you.”

Your eyes set on his at his confession. “You’re more than special.”

You weren’t sure you believed him, or if you even wanted to consider his words and their implications to everything you had thought was true during your breakup; was he actually just as in pain as you were all this time? It was such a break from what you expected him to be, the player who just saw you as another notch in his belt. Either way, your heart felt as if it fell still at the sincerity and intensity in his voice.

When you pressed your lips against his again, it wasn’t in forgiveness. It was a kiss that was more for you. Whether he truly believed it or not, you were going to make him see just what he had given up, just how irreplaceable you were. Because after years with him, you were no longer inexperienced, and you were Michael’s only girlfriend. He was able to teach you everything he liked, in vivid detail.

“Just fuck me.” You whispered through your heated kisses. You allowed his tongue to explore your mouth further as you moaned.

Michael had no issue giving you just want you wanted. How could he not with the way your naked body clung and rubbed deliciously against him. He had the sneaking idea that it was impossible not to be hard around you, constantly. He missed you so much.

He loved how easy it was to control your small frame, throwing you under him without much effort. He dominated you so easily. It was one of the things he most missed about you. The memory of your little body had been enough to get him off during the lonely nights but the real sight was so much better. He cherished the way you gasped slightly as your body bounced after being dropped.

He almost felt giddy as he ran his tip over your wet slit. But that couldn’t compare to the feeling of completeness he got when he finally slid into you raw. He was finally home. After so many months without feeling your pussy around him, he leaned over you as he groaned out. His hand had been nothing compared to this. It took a bit for you to take him in all the way. It’d been so long since he’s been inside of you, your body had grown accustomed without him.

You already felt so full of him when he was only halfway inside of you and he didn’t know what was hotter, the way your small body looked stuffed already with just half of his cock or the way you were still begging for all of it. He pushed fully into you, enjoying the way you mewled and pressed closer to him, finally being relieved a bit of the ache you’ve had since the break up. This was exactly what you needed. He was right, you would always need him to find that release.

It had been too long.

It was punishment to have forgotten just how it felt to be inside you, how tight you were, how you hugged him so deliciously that it almost felt like he could cum right then and there. His hands twisted the bedsheets next to you as he tried to control himself. He needed to relish this, he didn’t want to finish too early.

But then you started whining under him and he gladly began thrusting into you, his hips bucking at the feeling of being squeezed while he fucked into your warm and wet hole. He couldn’t prevent the pleased moaning and growls that escaped him at how good you felt. It was obvious in his mind that nothing was better than this, nothing was better than you. And he felt like a fool, more so than he had felt for months, for having lost you, for fucking up. He was addicted to you.

He hoped you realized that this was so different from anything else he could’ve experienced without you, that you shouldn’t feel gross or unimportant because the way he was touching you, the hands he held you with, the way he fucked you was so different than he was with anyone else. He almost felt like a teenager having sex for the first time, the feeling of wonder and nervousness at finally being able to be with you again, the self doubt, desperate need to please you and of course, the hope.

Your beautiful gasps and moans called him to pick up his pace. He felt his heart constrict at having you moan for him again. Your noises were like music to his ears and he was desperate to keep you making them, get you louder for him, make you feel as good as possible. Because for that moment, seeing your face washed in pleasure because of him, he could almost imagine that you were still his. That you didn’t feel those negative feelings of betrayal, distrust towards him. That you didn’t see him as a monster like everyone else did. This was what you still needed him for and he would make sure he wouldn’t disappoint. That this wouldn’t be a one time thing. Even if that’s exactly where your mind was.

You had forgotten how much of an expert he was at this. How his thrusts seemed to be timed just perfectly that they always reached so deep and rubbed against your walls just enough that your hips were moving alongside with them without you even realizing. You felt stretched out, filled to the brim with his girth for the first time in a while, it almost burned. But it was the perfect sort of feeling. It was a feeling that had you wanting more, begging for more.

At your responsiveness, he seemed to have gotten back the confidence he had always had when having sex with you. He had one of your legs in his hand, spreading you more open for him in a way only he had ever been able to control your body. His eyes never tore away from your withering body under him. He needed to see everything, everything he had been missing so badly. Your innocent little body being tainted by him once again.

“Fuck me harder.” You whimpered out. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed. At each thrust, you felt a pit of pleasure pooling hotly in your stomach. You were already moaning loudly, holding on to Michael as you finally felt the delicious drive of him into you after months of deprivation. Each time his skin slapped to yours, at each glance you saw him take to the point where you two were connected, where his dick was currently disappearing into you, you were nearly spasming at the heightened feelings. He was looking at you like he worshipped you.

“You’re taking me so well, little one. You’re so fucking tight.” He murmured, his voice strained as he gripped your hips tightly. He followed your orders, his thrusts became faster, more punctuated and so rough you were clenching onto him. Michael growled under his breath at the feeling of your already tight grip get even tighter. Your skills certainly weren’t lacking, even with your lack of recent practice. He wasn’t sure just exactly how long he would last with you.

You were amazing, and he had been so lucky to be able to not only have you like this now but have had you for so many years beforehand. “Missed it, didn’t you? Haven’t had a cock in you for so long, right? Wanting my dick in your tight cunt. Haven’t been able to get what you wanted without me.”

Your back was arched and you couldn’t answer him. Your moans had increased with his rough thrusts, broken as your body moved in sync with his, bouncing with each thrust. You felt the tip of his cock brush your g-spot and you jolted in his arms before grinding as he bottomed out into you again, desperate for everything he was making you feel. It was hard to breathe. You couldn’t even moan anymore, your mouth just open uselessly at the stimulation.

“Yes, Michael, yes.” You weren’t sure if you were answering his question or his actions.

Either way, Michael wasn’t satisfied. His hand went to your neck immediately, choking you just enough in warning. “Tell me you haven’t been with anyone else. Tell me I’m still your only.”

It was downright sinful for you to see the visual of his tattooed hand encircling your neck. It adorned you perfectly, like you belonged right there in his palm and you spread your legs further to get him deeper inside of you. Your moan was a mixture of his name and a desperate whine.

When you didn’t answer, he slapped you once on your cheek. The sting was so familiar and it was what had you remaining silent knowing what would happen, begging for more. As if he could sense that, Michael chuckled darkly under his breath. He slapped you again, harder this time. His aggressive thrusts never faltered.

“You’re still such a fucking slut for me, still mine. Even your body knows it. Say it.” He needed you to say it again. After so long, he wished he could draw you to say that forever.

“H-Haven’t been with anyone else.” You whimpered, “Fuck…so good…Y-you’re still the only one who’s ever had me. Still yours.” Your hand was on his wrist, keeping his hand to your throat, choking you so mouth-wateringly.

It was so easy to forget with him thrusting into you like that. So easy to pretend that the nightmare of the past few months had never happened and that you were still together, still happy. That this was just one of the many times you had sex that happened so often during your relationship.

“Even Justin?” He said the name like it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“He could never have me, couldn’t make me feel as good as you can. No one can.” Your words were cruel. But your head was so clouded that you didn’t care. All you cared was telling Michael exactly what he wanted to hear, to please him like you couldn’t help but want to. Besides, you couldn’t deny that your words were true. Justin was kind and he had a big role in your life and heart but you didn’t feel that magnetic connection with him that you felt with Michael, that all encompassing love and desire. Michael really had ruined you for all other men, no one could come close to him. You needed him. At least for this.

The sigh he let out was of unexpected relief. His smile nothing short of devilish. He hadn’t doubted what the answer would be but he loved to hear you say it. Especially when he had you like this, it fed into an animalistic pride, a possessive pit in his being that had his grip on you tightening and his mouth leaning down to take in one of your tits, licking at your nipple before circling it with his tongue.

“You’re mine.” To hear you say that about the man who had been causing him so many issues, insecurities, felt more than good. He would never get the chance to have you like this, touch you like Michael had just done.  Your body would only respond to Michael. The only thing you could do was push your chest up to give him more access, moaning loudly and wantonly.

Your legs were nearly bent all the way back and he went deeper and harder than before, if that was possible. Your hand went down to your pussy but all you did was feel each driving thrust under your hand as you screamed out obscenities to the air. You wondered briefly how you had been able to go so long without him when it felt this good.

You were both so sweaty already. The heat of your reunion, the entanglement of your bodies, had you frenzied against one another and breathing hard. Somehow he, glistening, looked even hotter than before. His tattoos on full display stuck out even more and you whined, moving to help him move deeper into you.

“Say my name.” His voice was barely a whisper but there was an edge to it. One that screamed to not be defied. Because he needed to hear his name from your mouth while you were under him and moaning for him again. Needed to feel like you had come back to him entirely. His hand was kneading your boob, still glistening from his spit. He loved the way he could do whatever he wanted to you. That you were letting him. Hope blossomed in him uncontrollably.

He stopped his thrusts for just a second before going back to slamming his hips into yours into an unrelenting vigor. And you were sure he did it on purpose to hear how broken and weak your voice sounded when you spoke his name. It ended up being a scream with much more added syllables to his name than necessary.

“That’s right…moan for daddy.” He smirked.

Your cheeks were dusted pink but it wasn’t embarrassment. It was the look of complete submissiveness that Michael loved to see. His hips stuttered at the sight of you. Blushing and ruined.

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath. “Such a good girl.”

You shouldn’t feel so happy at his praise, especially after everything. But your heart soared regardless. Because at the end, you still yearned for him and that included pleasing him.

“Look at how perfectly you fit with me.” You felt his hand in your hair, pulling it harshly to pull your gaze onto his cock thrusting into you. Your mouth fell open and you could only moan at the sight. The way you were spread open, the way his cock was glistening from your wetness each time he pulled back. His pace seemed to have quickened impossibly so as you watched. “You were made for me.”

You were gasping, your head tilted back again, a particularly loud moan leaving you as he hit just the right spot inside of you once again. You were unashamed at the noises you were making for him. You didn’t care if it made you seem weak, desperate. You were being pleased like you hadn’t been in months, in a way you had once been accustomed to being pleased, a way only Michael could do to you, and your body was helpless but to respond to it. Only he stretched you out so completely, filled you out perfectly as if he were your missing piece. Your body only responded to him. He was right, your body was made for him. You were made for him.

When he hit that spot again, you came around him almost instantly. It was a shattering orgasm, one that rocked your body until you felt it at the very tips of your being. You finally reached a release, in a violent shake, that has been evading you nearly since the time you broke up, one you couldn’t quite reach by yourself. The one only he had ever been able to give you because he had been right at the party, your fingers weren’t enough. Not when you had already gotten a taste of him and what he could give you.

And this was it. This was exactly why you had given into him tonight and you didn’t regret it one bit. Your body pulsed. Your second orgasm of the night and as he kept thrusting through your release, never slowing down, you felt your third just a few moments later. You were whining against him at the overstimulation but he held on to your weakening figure.

“Where…” He grunted at the feeling of you clenching around him, your juices painting both of your thighs messily. The feeling of you breaking down under him, the feeling of your walls tightening around him impossibly and your cum around him was too much. “Where can I cum?”

He hadn’t said that to you in years. It brought you back tearfully to your first time together. How had things gotten so wrong?

“Cum in me.” You didn’t hesitate to answer. You hadn’t stopped taking the pill, mostly out of habit. Maybe you should have, not giving him the chance you knew he desperately wanted, to claim you completely again. To cum inside you, taint your walls with his cum and watch with possessive fervor as it trickled out of you once he pulled out. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care, you wanted it just as badly as he did. You wanted to feel his cum in you, get the feel of him entirely which you had been missing for so long, feel as if he was still yours just for a while. It was one of his favorite things in the world. Even more so knowing he was the only one to have done that to you, to leave you in that glistening, weak, submissive mess. To fill you up.

It was what he had been wanting you to say, needing to hear from your mouth.  He didn’t know if you were still on the pill. Frankly, he wouldn’t have cared either way. He’d be more than happy with filling you up even with the likelihood of getting you pregnant, maybe even more so. If you wanted that.

You weren’t surprised much at the deep, pleased groan that erupted from deep in his throat. He leaned down, careful not to crush your little body under him, and buried his face in your dark hair. “God, I love you so much.” His elated, adoring voice was raspy at your ear.

He came as he said it and you moaned lowly at the feeling as you milked him completely until he finally pulled out of you. And the feeling of emptiness you felt without him inside of you had you whimpering.

Michael pulled out slowly, regretfully almost. He would stay inside of you longer if he thought he still had that right. But he didn’t so instead he tried to be satisfied with just watching the way his cum oozed out of you, covering your inner thighs and cunt so beautifully he almost felt himself wanting to get hard again. His cum inside of you, it made him feel like you were his again. As if he had ever stopped considering you his.

You didn’t answer him. Even if your heart flopped at his words, his tone. You still loved him, you couldn’t deny it. Especially after all this. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Not when thinking to all he had put you through, what he had done to you. It wasn’t fair that he could say it so freely while you had tears in your eyes just thinking how you used to trust him, love him and where that had gotten you. Hurt, betrayed and alone.

It was bittersweet when he cleaned you up and laid down beside you. His hands were gentle on your skin, as if you would break. Despite everything, you felt your heart warm at the knowledge that you were the only girl he cared enough for to treat so sweetly. The only girl he had enough regard for.

When you felt his lips at your cheeks, you shot up. This wasn’t what you came for. You came for the closure the party hadn’t been able to give you, to cross off that final vice he had left you with.  Not to forgive him or pretend like what he had done never happened. You tried to ignore the ache in your legs. “I should go.” Your tone was wavering.

You didn’t regret what you had just done. It was amazing and being so close to the man you loved made you feel alive again. But you shouldn’t have done it. It had just made everything messy. All the progress you’d made without him, the closure you had wanted so badly was even further from your grip because now all you wanted was to stay in his arms and love him freely. You cursed your weakness. You should have walked away at that party. But instead you had ended up in his bed. Now, you felt like another one of his quick conquests at the end of each party. When, once upon a time, you had been so much more. Or at least that’s what you believed. You weren’t sure anymore.

“What? No, stay.” His hand caught your arm as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed. His tone was panicked. You couldn’t leave. He couldn’t watch you leave his life again, this time, likely forever. Not after he finally got to have you again.

You swallowed through the knot at your throat. But still you stood up and threw your clothes on messily. “You don’t like it when your one night stands stay over.”

Your words were mean and you didn’t mean to sound so bitter when you said it. But you had gone years being okay with his past just for it to have been the exact thing that had come back to destroy your relationship.

Michael’s eyes widened and you saw him rear back in surprise. “That’s not - this isn’t…You’re not a one night stand.”

How you could compare yourself to those other girls was lost on him. He didn’t want to believe that he had really ruined everything so much that you couldn’t see your value in his life, how much he loved you. You were his everything, his heart, his home, his life. Tonight felt like his world was finally coming back together. So much more than one night.

“But I am. That’s what this was Michael.” You said, suddenly angry. “Because we’re not together and this was just something to help me finally get over you. It won’t happen again.”

He put on his pants in a hurry, following you quickly when you walked through the doorway of his room. His limbs felt cold from the anxious feeling numbing his body. He was going to lose you again and he might just go crazy if he did. It was hard for him to breathe.

He caught you right at the corridor leading to the door. The same one you had been making out in at the beginning of the night. You stayed in place but your eyes looked in pain.

“I wasn’t lying when I told you I don’t go to parties anymore. I haven’t been to one since we…broke up.” He hated saying it out loud. “They never really mattered to me anyway, I always rathered a night in with you over them. I only went tonight because Ashton told me you’d be there. There’s been no other girls. No one could replace you. I-I stopped drinking too because that’s the shit that lead me to fucking up. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise, I love you too much to even want to. But I promise you, I don’t forget you or cheat on you the minute you’re not around like you think. You’re it for me, once I met you, I stopped sleeping around. I stopped everything because I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It never happened before and it won’t happen again. I just hadn’t gotten that drunk in so long and I really thought you were…”

He took a deep breath, stopping to gather his thoughts. He needed to say everything right. It all came out in a rush because he felt as if he didn’t get it all out, everything would unravel. This was his last chance. You’d never heard him sound so worked up. The great Michael, the one the entire campus feared, was coming undone in front of you.

“I regret it. I’ve never fucking regretted anything more. I wish I could go back and stop everything so that you would still be with me and we’d be happy together, like we were meant to. I thought it was you. I couldn’t even fucking see straight enough to know it wasn’t. I’ve never even thought of other girls because you make me feel more than happy and pleased. I know you’ve always been insecure about that but you don’t have to be, no one else has ever made me feel so good. I don’t need or want anyone else, never did. As soon as I found out what I did I kicked her out, I haven’t seen her since. You have to believe me. I’ve been shit without you. I’m angry all the time, I feel alone without you. I need you.”

You weren’t sure what to think of his words. Whether or not you believed him. You wanted to. So badly. You saw firsthand just how badly he had treated himself since the breakup. He didn’t look like he slept much, he isolated himself and he had taken to smoking and fighting so much, you worried for his health. He no longer went to class, he stopped caring a lot about bettering himself or keeping his temper in check. You had heard rumors that he stopped partying but you never thought it was because of you.

He repeated the same story; he was drunk, he wouldn’t have cheated on you if he was in his right mind. The thought was only a bit comforting. Because it meant that his mistake had nothing to do with you or how much you did or didn’t please him, how pretty you were. You hadn’t been wrong about him all along. He did love you and he did regret it. More than you could imagine. None of your relationship had been a lie. He wasn’t that cheating player you had convinced yourself he was. He wanted his girlfriend back. He missed you, he wanted to live his life with you.

You missed him. The laughs, the love, the safety, the warm feeling in your belly every time he was with you.

But you didn’t want to be with someone that you couldn’t trust anymore.

Somehow though, the thought that he had given up everything he was known for because it was something that hurt you, that took away his relationship that he cherished so much, made you long to wrap your arms around him. Even more so because he hadn’t continued his wild behavior with girls when he could have, his heart and thoughts still remained on you. If he had stopped drinking and partying for you, you could believe everything would be different, be the way it had always been before. That it wouldn’t happen again. At least now you were sure that you still knew him enough, knew how much he loved you, to know that. He loved you.

You felt the wavering of your heart as you stared at him. It was impossible not to be reminded of the good times or to feel yourself yearn for him. His words filled in the puzzle pieces you had been missing, the ones you had filled in for yourself in the worst possible way and had brought you a final piece that showed you the Michael you had known from the beginning, not the evil one you had conjured up in your head. One you could almost forgive.

But that didn’t stop the pain you had been through. It didn’t erase the memory of walking in on him.

“That doesn’t take away what you did, Michael.”

“Stop calling me that!” His voice rose and you cringed back. Your reaction was the only thing that had him softening his tone. He didn’t want to scare you, that was the last thing he wanted. “Mikey. You call me Mikey…I’m Mikey to you.”

His voice sounded so broken, so sad that you felt tears spring up to your own eyes. You wished you could put everything aside and hug him, allow him back into your heart easily and go back to how happy, secure, not alone you had been before everything blew up. But you shouldn’t feel bad when you were the one he had wronged. So you stayed in place.

“You cheated on me. I walked in on you getting dressed while she sat there on your couch! I still think about it every day.” You were crying, tears running freely down your cheeks. The satisfaction you had from your night together was wearing off. “How could you do that to me? I loved you, I trusted you. I was planning to have a future with you. You hurt me.”

Michael took hold of your arms and you let him. “I only found out what happened when I woke up, you walked in before I could even figure everything out. You never should have seen that. I looked everywhere for you after. I tried talking to you, fuck, I would do anything to even just get a glance at you going to class. Anything to just see you again.” He moved closer to you, holding you against him and willing your eyes to his light ones, glistening just a bit with unshed tears. His knees were bent, lowering himself to your height. “It will never happen again.”

When you didn’t answer, when you looked away from him and eyed the door, he grew desperate. He had to bring you back to him. “Tell me what you want and I’ll do it. Do you want me to get the shit beat out of me? I’ll find the biggest guy on campus and let him pummel me. I know I deserve it. Do you want me to go on my knees? I’ll do it. Just please, don’t leave me.”

His voice cracked at the sheer vulnerability of his voice. The sadness, regret and begging seeped in his words so intricately you wondered how you could have the strength to continue fighting him and his love. Because the truth was, even now, you had him wrapped around your finger. He would do anything you asked.

“I want for it not to have happened!” You did anyway. You snatched your arms away from him and took a step backward.

Michael flinched. He actually flinched at your words because it was the one thing he couldn’t give you, no matter how much he wished he could.

“How would you feel?” You asked, “What would you do if it were you in my shoes. If you walked into my apartment and saw a guy getting dressed while I lay there naked next to him?”

Whether he regretted it, understood how wrong it was, whether he even still loved you and did it by accident was irrelevant. He had to understand why, despite your love for him, you couldn’t forgive him so easily. What exactly he was asking you to forget and let go of when he asked you to take him back.

And that’s exactly what your question did. You saw it in the way his eyes darkened and his shoulders stiffened. Just like with Luke, the thought of you with anyone else, worst that he should be there to see the remnants, had him shaking. The anger that had been swirling inside of him since the moment you left seemed to multiply to a level he didn’t know it could get. He didn’t want to imagine the anger, pain, hurt, betrayal that he would feel. To know the woman he loved more than anything else in the world had gone to someone else, let him have something, experience you and your responsive submissiveness and innocence, that was only meant to be between the two of you. He couldn’t imagine the way his body would completely shut down the moment he opened the door and saw. His body went cold at the thought.

But it was what you experienced. And he felt his heart break all over again at what he put you through. Again, he felt the flash of resentment at himself. How selfish he was to be there, demanding you back as if he had any legs to stand on.

“I’d kill him.” It was almost scary, the sincerity in his voice and the dark angry look in his eyes at just the thought. He was so different like that than he was with you. Than the boy currently desperately begging for you. Why had he let himself slip? You could have been so happy right then if that night never happened, if he hadn’t gotten drunk, if he hadn’t gone to the party.

Your resilience was breaking. The happiness you had felt with him was all that was running through your mind. He finally understood you, at least as much as he could. You had convinced yourself he was a lying cheater but as he told you everything, poured out his feelings and regrets, made the changes necessary while still yearning for you even while being ‘free’ and single, you couldn’t help but rewrite what you had classified him as. You were tired of fighting him. You wanted to walk into his arms again and work to move forward, see him fight for you.

“I kissed Justin.” You didn’t know why you said it. Maybe it was to hurt him, one final attempt to fight against what every fiber of your being was screaming at you to do: take the leap of faith, give him another chance, go back to him, be happy and loved again in the way you had only experienced with him. If it was, then your words definitely hit the mark.

Michael felt his throat close up and dry out. Those three little words made his world feel like it was caving in. The room was spinning. So he hadn’t been just jealous at the party, there had been something in the air between you two. Justin had been given a little taste of you, a taste Michael had given him access to. A taste he never should have had. Michael wasn’t the only man who had felt your lips anymore. There would always be Justin, the boy that seemed to be the perfect fit for you. The one Michael knew would probably be better for you.

“When?” He was breathless. A deep pain ran along his chest. He should have driven Justin away once and for all when he had the chance. Instead, he drove you to him.

“After I caught you.” You whispered back. “It was just once.”

You had meant to make him feel bad but at seeing him look so defeated, so utterly sad at your words, you wanted to cushion the blow. You still loved him too much to hurt him, even if he hadn’t given you the same consideration.

It didn’t work. But, you watched in wonder as, instead of blowing up, getting angry and going after Justin, he just hung his head. He looked repentant, guilty, self-accusing. You saw a tear rolling down his cheek. He was crying. You’d never seen your ex cry, never thought he would even be capable of it when he was so strong and so defiant. It almost looked wrong on him, when his body art screamed ‘scary’, ‘obscene’, ‘aggressive’ to have him look so powerless, so defenseless, exposed. But the knowledge of what you had suffered, what he had done, how much he finally understood your side of it had him being vulnerable to you.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured softly. Because it was his fault. He knew it. He drove you to drink, to kiss Justin, to everything that wasn’t who you were, to self destruction. Because he had destroyed your trust, your happiness. He ended up bringing you down just like everyone warned. And he would blame himself for it everyday.

He was mad, of course he was. His temper was flaring and he had his fists clenched tightly at his sides, shaking just slightly to know that your soft lips, your pure smile after a kiss, had been experienced by someone else. If he felt as if he had the right to, he’d go back to the party and show Justin just how much that kiss didn’t matter because you were still his and he’d never get that chance again. But maybe, despite his efforts, despite tonight, he really had lost that right.

It was that vulnerability, that putting aside of his pride, his temper and anger because he put first your feelings, your hurt, that had your knees feeling weak, your heart and mind finally connecting again to the possibility of going back to him. He had hurt you, didn’t consider your feelings when he did, but it was becoming apparent that it wasn’t from lack of caring or love for you. Because when he was himself, when he could think straight, you were the only thing in his mind. The only thing he cared about, and the only person he was willing to submit his being and heart to. Even in the face of the one thing that hurt him most.

The large, scary, cold, and sometimes cruel, man in front of you would go to his knees and accept anything for you. This man wanted a future with you, wanted to have a family with you, love you ’til death do you part, he always had. He had never stopped. And he always will.

Your hand reached out and cupped his cheek hesitantly. You were shaking when you did. Michael leaned into your touch as soon as he felt it, his eyes fluttering closed and you felt your heart constrict even more. Right then, he seemed so harmless. He wasn’t a violent man, he wasn’t a cheater. You weren’t sure if it was at the sight of him or the pain that you still felt, probably would always feel at least a bit.

But you didn’t doubt Michael would fight for you, work to make that pain go away as intensely as if he felt it himself. He would work to show you his love, his complete devotion to you. He’d take the pain for himself if he could, he would shield you from any memories, any whispers, any doubts, any insecurities that you ever might have had. He resented everything he had done already so much more than you could ever imagine, he’d never add to it. Because he was so sure you were it for him, that he’d never do anything to hurt you or pull you away from him again. He loved you too much, he’d never want to cheat, never want to do anything that wasn’t to worship you entirely. He adored you.

“It’s going to take me some time to be completely okay.” It wouldn’t be an easy road, the sting of betrayal will be a shadow following you for a long time. But you were willing to take the time, the effort, the risk of future pain. Because, staring at the man who stood in front of you, the one who resembled the man you fell in love with, you didn’t think you would have a problem. He loved you, he was patient, kind, with you. He’d do anything to keep you at his side, the girl who loved him despite his flaws. He would protect you, now knowing what he’d lost already, he wouldn’t hurt you again. He wouldn’t let anything hurt you again.

What he had done was a choice he would still have to be confronted with, still pay for, but it was one he could learn from, one he would cast aside and never experience again because he wouldn’t let himself ruin his relationship again. He was devoted completely to you, had never stopped. Even still, even this heart broken version of him.

Michael’s eyes snapped open at your words. His eyes were swirling with impossible hope, his mouth open in surprise. He was too afraid to ask but he had to anyway, had to make sure he wasn’t hearing things. “Does that mean-”

“Just one more chance. One more and if it happens again, Michael, I swear I’m gone. For good.” It wouldn’t be the same either, for a while at least. He would have to keep fighting for you. But he’d at least have that opportunity.

It was a strict condition. But one you wouldn’t have to worry about. Because while you knew Michael regretted his actions, you’d never really know just how much that regret ran. Enough that, if you had even a hint, you’d know just how much of a mistake that girl, that night was. One he never wanted to even think of again, let alone repeat. He wouldn’t even dream of it when he had you and no one else could compare to how you made him feel, both in and out of the bedroom. No one could feel as good, respond as well, make him so happy, loved and as if he finally had a home.

“It won’t. Never again.” You could barely hear what he said before he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly. He held you like his life depended on it, like this would turn out just to be a dream if he let you go.

Maybe you were making a mistake. But as you closed your eyes and breathed in his scent, allowed yourself to relish the feeling of being in his arms, you didn’t think so. You’d missed him so much, and right then you felt the warmth, adoration and complete safety you always felt with him. You finally felt calm and happy again at the prospect of a future with him at your side again, not on edge completely and sad all the time. You didn’t feel apprehension of what you had just done, at forgiving him.

You felt hope. Hope that things could be different, that you could go back to the relationship and man that had given you so much, including a feeling of home, belonging and love. And this time learning without the shadow of the past behind you because you’d eventually move past it, he’d show you only your present and future. He’d make you finally understand that despite his past and his awful mistake, you’d never have to compare yourself to other girls. Because your experience with him was unique and no one else would see or feel the mean, violent, tattooed boy in front of you the same way you would.

“I love you so much.” He murmured again and you could hear the pure emotion through his voice. The gratitude. The awe. You were so forgiving, such a good person. And he still didn’t deserve you.

This time you took a deep breath before conceding what you had tried to keep hidden for all these past months, even from yourself. To no avail because it had never wavered, never withered. Just hurt the more and more you tried to cast it aside.

“I love you, too.”

You felt the sigh of relief pull through his body and when he pulled away from you, it was just enough for him to place his forehead against yours. His eyes were still closed as if he was trying to ingrain this in his memory, the feeling of your merciful forgiveness, your body against his against, your love back on him. He would never let this go again, he’d never take it for granted (he never did).

“But no more drinking so much.” You said, half joking, as you ran your fingers through his soft hair. Michael wanted to cry out at the feeling he thought he would never get to experience again. He had more time with you, more chances to have you in his arms, be vulnerable, be happy without the cloud of anger swirling in his heart because he could never be angry with you around.

His laugh was good natured, one he had lost for a bit without you. His eyes and smile brighter than they had been for a while. He looked alive, happy. The way he’d only ever been with you. Your eyes were still strained with hurt, but you were sure your expression matched. His face buried itself in the crook of your neck, shielded by your dark hair.

“I promise.” And you’d have to learn to finally trust his word again. But you could, especially when he would prove his loyalty, his love like never before. He’d work for your trust back and he was willing to do anything to do so just like you were willing to let him. “I’ll prove to you that you never have anything to worry about ever again, that you can trust me. You’re the love of my life, princess. I’ll never let you go again. I want a life with you, forever.”

When his lips found yours in a slow, loving kiss, you let his hands cup your face, one in your hair. And you kissed back. It was a kiss that translated his disbelief of having you back, his repentance and his adoration of you that transcended everything else in his life. He picked your small frame up, holding you so he could reach you and kiss you as deeply, hold you as closely, as he wanted to. You weren’t looking at him like he was a bad guy anymore. You looked so cute and happy with that big smile he had missed so badly, held up by his arms, your white dress hanging off of you loosely and contrasted starkly against the black tattoos lining his arms. He was the luckiest man in the world.

The very thing he now held a deep resentment for was what had brought you back to him. If you hadn’t gone to the party, if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t be his girlfriend again. And while he was determined never to look back at them, he couldn’t help but thank the heavens that you were back to him, back in his arms. Everything felt just as it was meant to be.

It was still there. The overwhelming chemistry between you. The click that sounded whenever you two were together because you were just so right together. You were soulmates.

You would be alright.

♔

the end.

♔

thank you to everyone who has read and followed this series! i loved it so much and bringing the story out of my mind and to life has been so exciting. i can’t say how happy it makes me that you have read it, liked it, shared it, and even talked to me about it. i appreciate you all so much.

i loved their little world and following their relationship & dynamic so much and leaving it makes me so sad.

hopefully we can see more of it in the future (am i hinting at an ash story…..maybe)

[sh1tbird-shantytown]

What’s with the Goats, Steve?

Billy had never actually been in the Harrington house. But he knew what the rest pretty much looked like. The red door, the rectangle windows, the big shed by the pool that held exercise equipment. The outside of house was chic. It was clean and well trimmed and pigmented. Something a wealthy boy like Steve would assumingly live in. Billy knew it all on the outside. But he’d never been inside the house. No matter how many times he’d dropped Steve off after their shifts at work. He’d never been invited in. And contrary to popular belief, Billy wasn’t one to normally barge into someone’s home without reason.

He was aware of the key under the little blue gnome out back. How Steve himself had started the little petunia garden out front. How the pool was cleaned but closed off and Steve wouldn’t even look at it. He even knew about the rabbit Steve had had as a little kid that was buried under the pine tree sapling. He also knew that the bunny’s name had been Checkers.

Steve was a talker what could he say. If you’d listen he’d babble on and on. Billy could be the same way, but listening to Steve Harrington’s fond memories was a little more to his liking. Oddly.

But recently the BMW had been in some nasty encounter with a buck and was, so far, permanently parked in the Harrington’s driveway with a shattered windshield and craters in the hood. He swore one of the headlights hung out slightly too.

Steve had been distraught for days. Billy had to actually ask Dustin to help them revive Steve’s dopey side. Not to mention how the thing had already begun to run out of luck after so many days of carpooling the kids and rolling over stray demodogs. So, Billy and Robin picked him up when he needed to be somewhere. It was mostly to and from work and it was usually Billy even though Robin and Steve worked at the same place.

By this point Billy was sure Robin already knew what was up. Billy knew he wasn’t subtle. But Steve was also very...dense. And he also couldn’t tell when a person was interested apparently. His technique throughout life had always been 1.) tease and flirt 2.) hope for good a response 3.) ask out 4.) relationship. While Billy’s had always been 1.) flirt 2.) wait for them to flirt back 3.) wait for them to make the next move and 4.) take it from there.

Billy had been making light and flirtations notions all week and Steve gave them right back with vigor. But it was taking Steve an awful long time to take the next step. Billy didn’t think he’d be able to do it himself. Didn’t want to lose what he had if things shifted the wrong way. Steve was just about the best friend Billy had ever had.

Billy stopped in front of Steve’s driveway per usual on a warm and breezy spring day in April.

Steve looked at his house and then back at Billy with a contemplative look to his eye, “You gonna drive up the rest of the way?”

Billy stared back blankly, “You can’t walk?”

Steve rolled his eyes, “I did track, give me some credit.” Billy shook his head and then swerved into the driveway, Steve just barely missed hitting his head on the window. He then leaned back in the car right after stepping out, “Uh, wait.” Billy felt slightly disappointed about being in front of Steve in that brief moment. “I thought I mentioned us hanging out today—“

“Mentioning and asking aren’t the same thing, Harrington,” Billy reminded. He did this often. Steve would say the most generic things, a mere flutter of words in a conversation, but would then take it to heart and you’d be slammed with sudden plans. Just the other day he’d said he was hungry and then twenty minutes later Billy had been forced into driving them to the Dairy Queen outside of town.

“Oh come on,” Steve whined and pulled at Billy’s leather jacket sleeve, “We both have tomorrow off finally! You can sleep over, it’ll be fun. You’re fun, Billy, let’s have fun, come on.” He gave one last tug and then exited the car. Based on the speed he spoke and the uncontrollable smile Steve had, Billy could tell something was up. But it was also cute and Billy was a sucker when Steve was like that. Unfortunately Steve was almost always cute so there wasn’t much of a win win sort of thing.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” he put the car in park, grabbed the key, and jogged after Steve. Steve unlocked the door in a rush with the jangle of his own set of keys. Before he opened the door he turned back with his hand in the handle.

“Oh, I should probably warn you, um...” Steve bit his lip and glanced at the door. Billy was laser-focused on that magenta, plush lip and then...there was yodeling. Yodeling?

Billy looked at the door in shock, “Harrington, what was that?” Instead of answering Steve turned the doorknob and gestured to two goats galloping towards them. One had a fully black, silky coat while the other was spotted like a cow. Their little, blunt horns worried Billy so he stepped in front of Steve a little swing of motion. The goats skidded to a stop straight in front him and just stared up.

“I think they like your hair,” Steve commented over his shoulder. The animals were, in fact, staring at Billy’s head. He stepped around and Billy had to stop himself from pulling him back just in case. Steve picked up the spotted goat and started rubbing its back. “Billy,” he lifted the goat up to Billy’s focus, “This is Joe. He loves chewing shirts so heads up. And this,” Steve let the submissive goat go and picked up the other one, “Is Remy,” he scratched the white spot of fur between the horns gently. “She likes buttercups and gnawing on hair especially so watch your head. She’s a jumper.” As of to prove his point Remy licked Steve’s chin and leaped down from Steve’s loose hold with impressive height.

For a lack of better words Billy asked in awe, “What’s with the goats, Steve?”

Harrington rubbed the back of his neck and let out a sort of giggle, “Well. I got lonely after Starcourt and the doctor said that a pet might help me with the PTSD or...something.” Suddenly Steve was sitting on the floor with the two goats at either side awaiting his attention. “And some farmer was getting rid of the runts for fifteen bucks each! So I took these two, the last of ‘em.” Now Billy knew Steve was sugar coating some of those details.

He wasn’t just lonely after Starcourt. Robin had explained a few things that triggered Steve’s fight or flight responses. Things Steve himself would never think to tell. Billy couldn’t handle the sight of rats or tar. And the smell of bleach made him vomit instantly. Steve knew that all. But Robin was the one to sit down and tell Billy how Steve couldn’t have his hair pulled. Or the sight of needles made him horribly nauseous. And he got close to chronic migraines, specifically in the colder weather.

Billy knew Steve intentionally never mentioned the time Billy had found him with his bat prowling the junkyard. Or the woods on the southwest side of Hawkins. Or when Mike had found Steve stumbling on a route to check on all of them. Billy had had to pick him up from the Wheeler’s because he was so paranoid and fatigued that no one could calm him. But Billy had become an expert at bundling Steve Harrington in their sort of affection. It was the sharp kind that made things go back to mostly normal.

Billy sat down too, maybe a little too close. But who was counting? Billy understood though, “Been having trouble sleeping again?”

Steve sighed forlornly, “Yeah,” he answered stoutly. Billy hesitantly stroked Joe’s side as the goat inched closer and Remy nuzzled into Steve’s side.

“I better get dinner out of this,” he teased and looked at Steve.

That damn smile.

“How long have you had them?”

“About four weeks but they’re eight weeks old,” Steve smoothed down the fluffed up white fur that bunched up behind Remy’s ears.

“They spend all their time inside?”

Steve looked almost offended, “God, no. I built a little coral outside for them in the morning and in the evening. I only keep them inside when I’m not here and the weather’s bad or at night. The weatherman had said that it was going to rain ‘cats and dogs’ today.” He quoted with his fingers and looked dispraisingly at the big sliding doors that could be seen through into the living room.

Joe made a disruptive, ear sore of a ‘baah’ and climbed into Billy’s lap. Rather invasively. Billy, for fear of the kid loosing balance, hugged him securely in place. The dull horns dug into the underneath of his jaw annoyingly but the softness of the animal’s shiny coat was enough to suffice. Steve tilted his head as he watched this go by and grinned with a softness Billy had associated clouds with as a child.

“I think he likes you,” Steve stated proudly.

Billy let himself smirk as he rubbed down Joe’s back, “He’s alright too.”

Steve was silent for a minute and then he stood up, Remy galloping after him, “I’ll start supper while you go wash up. You’ve got grease and ketchup on your shirt and I think that’s lettuce in your hair.” Billy’s hand flicked up to his head to feel for the referred invader.

He found it and threw it, Joe scurried after it attentively, “The diner was busy today,” he excused himself. Steve pointed to a blue door on his way to the kitchen. Billy entered through it to walls filled with powder blue wallpaper flowers. It smelt like cinnamon and the walk-in shower had little navy colored tiles. Billy stared at the citrus shampoo and conditioner lined up on the little shelf in the shower. Steve’s hair smelt like citrus. Abundantly most of the time and Billy sometimes lost himself in the aroma. God he was done for. The guys hair sent him to his knees practically. It was mortifying.

He showered quick and when he stepped out from the foggy glass box he found a yellow Hawkins High sweatshirt and soccer shorts. Billy furrowed his brow before putting on the shorts. “Didn’t know Steve had played soccer,” he mumbled to himself before tugging the long string in the front. When he exited the bathroom and slowly searched for the kitchen doorway, he listened to what Steve was saying to his goats.

“I think he went a little overboard on the soaps. It smelt like a lemon meringue pie in there. Or maybe it always smells like that. Joe, don’t eat the lemon grass, that’s to go with the chicken!” Billy peaked in and watched as Steve chased Joe around the island while the goat kept a sprig of green in his mouth. Steve had a pink and black polkadot apron on that flapped as he jogged. Joe went to escape the room but Billy crouched and grabbed him in one fluid motion. When he stood up Steve forcefully came to a halt just in front of Billy. Steve’s brown eyes were sparking orbs. Billy blinked and grasped the lemongrass, waiting for the black goat to slacken his jaw.

“Here,” he held the herb up and Steve carefully took it, holding a bit of Billy’s own hand as he did so and pulled it away slowly. Steve smiled thankfully, gently flicked Joe’s nose, and returned to his cutting board where he continued slicing the chicken cutlets. Billy asked to help and Steve seemed to grow excited. “Oh, you can work on a salad, there’s a head of lettuce in the fridge, some carrots and cucumbers and tomatoes too.” Remy appeared right in front of the refrigerator as soon as Billy stepped up to it. Steve noticed, “Just nudge her away, she likes the cucumber and she always tries to steal it when I get anything else out of there.”

Billy toed at her, prodding her away, “I thought you hated tomatoes,�� Billy mentioned as he took out everything Steve had mentioned. He dropped everything in his arms on the other side of the island to where Steve was focused on seasoning the chicken. He bit his bottom lip when he was focused. Billy stared.

“Uhm,” Steve mumbled distractedly, “Just cube it and pat it a little with a paper towel. I can handle them when they’re not so wet.” Billy nodded and grabbed a cutting board from the drying rack by the sink and a knife from the wood block. He worked as he did in the kitchen at the diner and had a salad tossed up just as Steve was putting the chicken in the oven.

The goats where nowhere to be seen and Billy felt unnerved by the sudden quite, “Where are they?”

Steve looked up from cranking a timer with a wide eyed look, “Who?”

Billy held back a chuckle, “Steve,” he grinned amusedly and shook his head as Steve hesitantly gave back a confused tilt to his head. “Where are your goats?”

“Oh!” Steve pointed to the living room where the two animals where lying and staring at a robin hopping outside the glass sliding doors. “They’re waiting to go out,” Steve explained and hurried over while untying the apron. He opened the door and both goats messily ran out into the dewy evening grass and over to the small but spacious corral that Steve had referred to earlier. It was simple wood fencing, not much more that four feet high. The goats seemed to not care for it though and neither did Steve in the moment. Because the goats where lazily chasing the robin down to the tree line until the bird flew up and out of sight.

Billy walked out to Steve’s side at the end of the patio. Steve shivered, it had rained a little, hence the cool dew in the grass, and the air was chilly. Billy felt fine but he knew how Steve got colder then most, even though the man ran hot most of the time. He was a similar way himself, was a human heater but almost never got cold. Billy didn’t really think about it before he did it. Just pulled Steve close into his side and hugged him around his torso with one arm. Steve didn’t show any resistance and only froze up for a millisecond before he leaned into Billy’s side comfortably.

The sun was half covered by the end of the tree line. Cosmic orange and yellow highlighted Steve’s features cinema-like as Billy watched him gaze at the goats chase each other. When Steve finally did crane his neck back to catch Billy’s eye, he found plainly that he’d already had it. Steve’s eyes shifted down for a second and Billy had just enough hope to think it was his lips Steve had willingly glimpsed at.

“Wanna go get some ice cream from Donna’s later?” Steve asked and Billy caught something knowing in the glimmer of Steve’s irises. Highlighted like aged honey from the sun.

He nodded, “Sounds nice.”

“It’s a date,” Steve stated decisively. A date. He turned back to clap for Remy, who had just successfully jumped over the small bin filled with a basketball, soccer ball, and rubber ball.

Which reminded Billy, “I didn’t know you played soccer.” Steve seemed taken aback at the sudden question, like he’d forgotten too.

“God,” he said and leaned into Billy more, “That feels like decades ago. Yeah, I played the summer before junior year. Wasn’t my thing, I was put in goalie all the time because I couldn’t dribble the ball and kept tripping over it and staining my uniform.” Billy chuckled and Steve joined him heartily. “My mother has a picture of my whole front covered in mud somewhere.”

“I’ve got to see that,” Billy loosely pinched Steve side, making him bundle over to try and protect himself. Steve yelped with ticklish spouts of laughter and Billy laughed with him. Steve’s laugh was like a bell, like the church bells that even the non-religious could find a meaning too. Even at almost twenty, Steve’s laugh made him seem so much younger. Like he wasn’t plagued with neglectful parents, monsters invading his hometown, and the memories of all too many unnecessary deaths. Billy’s own was rougher but Max had told him once that his laugh did the same thing. She told him that when he laughed he seemed thirteen again, when he had first met her, when his father had been nice and Max had been innocent enough for Billy to take care with every step towards her. When she made him laugh like he had just started remembering how to do now.

Steve leaned his head on Billy’s peck and sighed, “I don’t even know where it’d be. My mother might have it. I have a hunch she had a photo album with her.”

“How’d you figure that?” Billy settled his hand firmer against Steve’s hip.

“She calls sometimes when she’s drunk enough to let loose and tell me how she’s feeling. Seems she only remembers me when she’s intoxicated. She babbles about times when I was a kid.” Billy couldn’t see Steve’s expression but he almost assumed the man was smiling a little. Like he was okay and happy that his mother only called when she was drunker than a sailor. He was fine with the scraps he got. And Steve was never one to stick up for himself. Never one to actually complain about the muddy puddle he was stuck in. But Billy didn’t want to watch Steve become immune to that. And it was bad enough that he wasn’t even registering what’s right and wrong anymore. But maybe Steve was finally accepting the outcome his family’s path had lead to. Maybe Billy missed being selfish and now he was selfish for Steve.

“Why does she do that?” he asked and Steve didn’t respond for a moment. The goats started to chase each other around the corral, shadows deeper as the sun set a little more.

“She doesn’t trust my father so she’s always by his side. He cheated a couple years ago and she’s trying to keep a hold of him. She can’t leave him for more to an a day without worrying to bits and pieces.”

“And you’re fine with that?”

Steve sighed and shrugged over Billy’s arm, “I get it, I don’t like it, but I get it. I spent so much time doing the same to Nancy. I lost the game and I have a feeling she’ll lose eventually too. I guess...I never hang up because I want her to know, even if it’s in the back of her mind, that I’m here for her when she realizes it. When he finally makes the final blow.” Steve looked up and Billy couldn’t regret causing the loosing stance in Steve’s eyes. Because what he’d said was the truth. It was what he felt for real and that what Billy had wanted. But he did feel apologetic for pushing. Steve had a hard time talking about his family, anyone could be able to spot that much.

“That’s kind of you to offer her,” Billy said and stared back at Steve through both their eyelashes.

Steve shrugged again, “Yeah, well, one of us has got look out for someone.” Billy knew he was implying his own family. But he couldn’t help but connect Steve helping him through all the hurt Neil had caused. How Steve had definitely been there for people before. But this was different. Billy knew that. “And I’ve got the goats, I haven’t told Dad about them but Mom thinks it’s sweet as long as they don’t eat the furniture.” Billy smiled and leaned his chin atop Steve’s hair part. Steve sighed, a little tired and a little content, “This is nice.” Billy decided to take the next step, maybe Steve already had, but Billy was making his own leap.

He slowly stepped around Steve while still keeping him trapped in the embrace. He leaned forward till their noses touched and he ignored the slight tickle. Steve and him were mostly the same height, Billy only shorter by an inch or so. So Billy had the best sight of Steve’s dark, coffee bean eyes and the starkly gentle emotions they emoted. Neither of them looked anywhere else, no ones eyes looked away from the others. It was peaceful until Billy felt two somethings, he assumed were horns, ram into his calf. He shouted and stepped back from Steve so he could check his assaulted leg. The smooth, black coat that Billy had just been stroking earlier was now jumping in front of Steve like it was disturbed by the both of them. He made a low ‘baah’ towards Billy before chomping onto the hem of Steve T-shirt self riotously.

“Joseph!” Steve scolded, rather harshly, “How dare you,” he ripped his shirt out of the goats mouth and hurried over to Billy. Remy had remade her appearance, making herself known to Billy by licking his hand and making a sympathetic sounding ‘baah’ much different from her brother’s. Steve took Billy’s hand and rushed back inside, guiding the goats with him. Joe was reluctant and obviously in a fit of self pity, but Billy was sitting on the counter as Steve checked over the bruising area with extreme intent. “I’m sorry he did that, he’s not usually so violent.”

Billy snorted, he couldn’t help it, “I think he was just being protective of you.” He winced when Steve gingerly felt around the bruising dots.

He looked up sheepishly, “Sorry,” he stood up and gave a quick peck to Billy’s forehead affectionately. And if that where any other person Billy knew he’d probably be very confused. Even with almost kissing outside, Billy wasn’t quite surprised by Steve’s actions. Because Steve was always affectionate, he hugged and squeezed you when you hugged him like he loves you more than anything. He was just soft hearted like that, defrosted in a way most weren’t.

Steve returned with a bag of frozen peas, “Here, this’ll help,” he held it to the two dark purple circles on his leg. Billy ignored the cold and ran a hand through Steve hair calmingly. He told himself there was a tangle and he was just making sure Steve’s pretty head of high hair wasn’t catching snarls. Steve hadn’t used any hairspray that day, or at least very little. He was surprised by the light, softness to it. Steve closed his eyes and leaned into Billy’s hand by the third stroke of his hand.

“Steve,” Billy began, he didn’t continue until Steve opened his eyes and looked up at him, “Do you think the goats will ambush me if I try again.”

Steve’s lips curved up and he leaned his temple against Billy’s knee, “Nah, Remy will protect you. Promise it,” he put his hands on the counter on either side of Billy’s sides and pulled himself up to standing. The counter was tall so for once Billy was the one an inch or so taller. Steve didn’t close his eyes as he leaned in and neither did Billy. They stared a moment before they closed their eyes and their lips actually touched. And then they were pressed together from forehead to waist. Steve was warm and breathy and confident. It was more relieving than the cold against the bruises. Billy was actually the one to break first. He hadn’t even realized until he tasted salt. Steve looked panicked, “Are you okay?” Steve’s hands were in Billy’s hair, pushing it back soothingly.

Steve wiped the tear tracks and Billy coughed out emotion, “I never actually thought that would happen. For real. You— You kissed me.” Steve smiled as it dawned on him and hugged Billy. Just hugged him, nothing more, nothing less. Arms around torso and slightly stubbly chin against his jaw. Billy almost fell apart. He wrapped his own arms around Steve’s torso and clasped around him like a magnet.

“I’ll do it again later too,” Steve whispered after a very long moment. They both pulled away when they heard the clomping of small hooves. Remy was pushing Joe over to them with the flat of her head and the force of her side. She stood silent and stared at Joe for a long while, the white of her spots reflecting the last light of the evening. Joe stood on all fours and slowly inched his way over to Billy’s dangling legs and licked his knee before galloping off with a blow through his nose. Steve chuckled, “That’s his way of apologizing.” Billy raised a brow and watched as Remy made her way over, calmer than the other.

“Some apology,” he mumbled sarcastically and Steve laughed while putting his head on Billy’s shoulder.

Then the timer went off.

[bearseokie]

allure (M)

— Receiving an ad about an incubus website, your curiosity gets the best of you - and you order an alluring guest.

DETAILS — [ 18+ | drabble | 1k ] PAIRING — incubus! seoho x gender-neutral! reader GENRES — supernatural! au, smut, light fluff WARNINGS — deep make out session, whiny seoho, finishing untouched

oneus m.list | navi.

A website, or a virus — you couldn’t decide. The screen was filled with clickable shapes and distracting ads, your mind so focused on the one task at hand. Find a lover, or just experience something greater.

The title ‘choose your own’ caught your attention so fast that you clicked without reading the warning label, another page overtaking the previous one. Names began to cascade over the screen, faces of handsome men within the tiles. You were overwhelmed, the number of incubuses all about drawing your mind blank as you scrolled down the page.

One by one, they all looked wicked. Your eyes glistened in the dark room with nothing but the light of the computer before you to keep you attentive. Your finger clicked the screen to the last page, only one man listed.

Warm eyes smiling like his curved lips, soft-looking hair, he appealed to you most. Seoho — the last of the incubuses to be listed, you hit order without a single thought. The screen was overtaken by a deep blue, a static noise echoing from the speakers as you released the mouse to cover your ears. Eerie in a new way, your eyes closed tightly to rid the color from your sight, eyelids heavy with spots encircling your pupils as you whined for it all to end. Like a switch being flipped, the screen went back and sound dismissed. Your mind lulled numb, peeling your eyes open and dropping your hands from your head.

Limbs cold although you were enwrapped by a warm layer from a blanket, your head delved under the thick fabric. Warmth filling your body and the heat rebuild under the covers, a slight tug from two fingers made you gasp. Stuck idle in shock, you felt the two fingers poke at your leg, long nails barely digging at the skin as the form gripped the fabric of the blanket with the two digits. Such like a person would remove a tablecloth from beneath the objects still on the table, the blanket was pulled from you. Floating in the air while still in motion, your eyes caught sight of the ordered incubus.

“Seoho.” you whispered.

“Are you hiding?” he asked, tossing the blanket over himself. Head wrapped with the soft cloth, his fluffy hair disappeared within the cover. His smile was bright even in the dark room. “Why are you hiding?”

You shivered before you could answer, his eyes blinking softly as he acquired an innocent look on his face. Nose lightly scrunched, eyes squinted, cheeks rosy, he lifted the blanket up into the air once more. The large cover scoured over your body, the top of your desk chair capped by the fabric as it layered over you. The heat regained on your skin, the feeling of the cold air from the man diminishing.

Your brows knitted, watching his shoes bend on his feet. His body crouched just as his finger tapped the small lamp at your desk, the colored bulb illuminating a glow to the room outside of your shield. Slipping his head beneath the fabric, he climbed inside the warm spot with you. Eyes filled with wonder, his two fingers connected with the trim of your shirt at your stomach, lifting it as his lips sucked a mark.

You didn’t have the chance to react, the incubus’s opposite hand rummaging with your pants as they glided down your legs. His nose flared, breathing in your scent as his innocent eyes regained their attention on yours.

“R-Ready?”

He was new at this, you could tell. The way his hand shook, body temperature ice compared to your own within the heated space — he was wary. The pads of his fingers soothed your heated skin, your hand wrapping around his wrist before he could reach the bottom of your abdomen.

“Seoho.” You whispered his name a second time, the bright yellow irises gazing up at you. His tongue had poked out into the corner of his lips, focused on what he was meant to do — but you had other plans.

A small tug at his wrist was all it took to collide your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth in a rapid need to taste you. Your tongue moved above his, fighting against him enough to make him reel back. The layer of saliva between your lips created a trail, the same one reconnecting your mouths as you moved slower. Seoho moaned, the sound so deep it vibrated his chest. He was used to being quick, your fingers gently lacing in his hair to pull him closer bringing his heart to race. “Slow.” you spoke against his lips.

His head slightly nodded, body standing to bend over you in the seat. His form between your bare legs, he was a whining mess from how aroused you had become just from the kiss of his lips. Eyes shut tighter than your own, you pulled away from him to glide your hand from his head to his shoulder. Passing the divots of his chest, his button-up shirt undone in the process, you were met with his golden skin. So tedious, tender, your teeth sunk into it to suck a single mark. His knees grew weak, falling into your lap as you released him.

Your hand ran up his chest as he fell, cupping his cheek to tilt his head. Another deep kiss began, his fingers running along your body to find the most heated spot — between your legs. You were mewling, spiraling when his fingers connected with you. Whimpering against his mouth, the motions of his fingers swiveling around your arousal as your hips met his hand fascinated him. Your need was so calm, pacing him and giving as your own hand met his crotch. A gentle graze of your palm over his bulge and he was leaking into his pants, panting against your mouth and sucking the saliva from your wet cavern to replenish his thirst.

You felt the spots of his release growing, his winces enough to make you pull your hand back. He still didn’t release your mouth, lips moving in tandem with your own until you were both out of breath. Your eyes opened slowly, stuck under the blanket with sweat pouring off your limbs. The man was completely dry, hair extra fluffed from the fabric, horns short and prodding.

He smiled another cheeky grin. “Can we keep going?”

[draconicks]

Midnight Swim (The Lost Girls and David)

The water was pitch around his figure. It gulped him up like a black hole, or even a dark shadow during the bright summer days in Santa Carla, perhaps. Sam knew that if his brother Michael had ever found out Sam snuck out to go swimming in the swimming holes just outside town, he would most likely shit a brick and snitch to Lucy.

Not that Lucy would really listen anyways, she had a horrible habit of being indecisive and not knowing who to believe or who to trust. So, if Sam and Michael came bounding down the stairs and throwing fingers at eachother, she would most likely freeze and just stutter.

But, Sam didn't care about that at the moment. Instead, he was focused on the water, and how 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 quiet it was.

𝘕𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺.

The sound of loud rap music boomed just across the deserted hill where he was swimming, and he could hear the sounds of laughter and what sounded like...screaming? Although now it was much quieter than how it had been just a few minutes ago. He had never heard so much screaming and yelling in his life, but he didn't really question, nor did he care on what was going on.

But then the rap music got turned off suddenly, but the heavy bass still lingered in the air. As for the screaming, he couldn't hear a single thing now. Sam tilted his head back into the water, still trying to be quiet and not attract attention just incase the teenage assholes were still there.

The water splashed when he kicked the water and floated onto his back, grunting loudly and swinging his arms, mimicking a snow angel. The water ran through his fingertips and his toes, wrapping him up in a secure position where no one could seemingly hurt him. He giggled and scrunched his eyes shut. Kicking the water lightly, not too loud and not completely silent, before a loud shudder came past his lips. Sam's toes lightly twitched, the water seeming to drop several degrees all of a sudden, which slightly concerned him but also made him incredibly agitated.

He shivered, rolling up slightly and chucking the pitch black water with his fists. Just as he was about to stand up and move to a warmer spot, his heart skipped several beats and his dark grey eyes then widened into two saucers, the water surrounding him now eerily quiet as well, as he didn't 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦 move.

5 silouhettes tittered on the hill, loud jewelry shaking in tune. 4 girls and one guy, who awfully resembled David, were standing over the hill and were giggling amongst themselves. Two of the girls stood at the back, and had their arms interlocked, their hair tied up. One of the other girls had an arm slung around the man, who's hair was coated in something dark and liquid-y. As for the last chick there, who Sam had assumed to be the leader, was at the front of the group with her arms folded across her chest as she flitted gracefully across the sand.

"Yeah! Come on, Davey! Surely you would like to join us, huh, baby?" One of the girls loudly chirped, and Sammy didn't fail to catch onto her dangerously thick accent. It sounded southern, but also northern at the same time. Either way, it still caught him in a temporary trance. The man, Davey, turned and scowled at the girl before his face broke into a warm grin. "Now, now, Bell." he replied cooly.

Sammy's heart sped up.

It was him. It was David.

But, wasn't he dead? Or did... the antlers looked kinda funny when they impaled him, but also, he knew that he had to be dead. They burned his body and they made sure to get rid of him!

But, alas, there he was, and he had new people with him.

Sam the began to breathe heavily, his throat now burning and dry, and his mouth felt as if it had cotton in it. David looked different now. His mullet was gone, and was now trimmed neatly on top of his head. His clothes were a bit different too, but the memorable trench coat and spurs stayed on nonetheless.

As for the girls, who Sam had never seen before, had different colors on. Two of them had bright, vibrant colors, one was dressed in all black, and the one in the front just had a bright, golden coat on her that fit herself perfectly.

Sam shivered and he very slowly stood up. His eyes never left the group that was chirping and softly giggling, one of the girls in the back hopping onto David, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and smiling brightly. Sam turned his head to the other side but his eyes still never left them.

"Could you and Kamille come to the arcade with us? Crystal doesn't wanna hang for a while." the little pixie pouted, still planted onto David like a little koala. "Leave him be, Bell. He seems tired." one of the girls said, who Sam assumed to be Crystal. David turned and smirked at Crystal, "Thanks for looking into my mind, Ma." his silky voice erupted. Bell and the other faerie beside her then threw their head back in sync and their cherubesque laughter followed the group like the smell of burning flesh did.

His eyes burned, tears pooling in his doe eyes and his nose stinging. The smell was now nearly unbearable. His guts started churning and his muscles were begging him to get up and flee the area, to let his legs carry him wherever they wish.

But, he couldn't move. Instead, he watched as the silent leader with the stoic face then disappeared into the darkness, followed by David and the two pixie-like girls, and Crystal, who had seemed to be only a floating head since her outfit was so dark.

The wind then, like a bomb going off, exploded and blew right into Sam's face, sand and dirt flying onto his wet skin and drenched hair. Yelping, he flew sideways and landed with a loud splash into the water once more.

Sam's head bobbed up and down in the water and he then spat out a mouthful of water, loud, sputtering gasps leaving him. His arms flailed a couple of times before he then shot up like a bullet and his legs then moved on pure instinct, adrenaline filling his veins and sending him sprinting towards town.

[petri808]

This fic was created for the BKDK Unbirthday Party (Twitter) for prompt #G-0181: (Coffeeshop AU where Izuku accidentally sends katsuki (guest) to hospital after messing up the order submitted by Celestial)

Bakudeku one-shot. Coffee house AU

Ugh! Why’d the coffeehouse have to be so busy today of all days? It was as if the customers knew he’d stayed up late the night before and only managed three hours of sleep. Top it off with co-worker Denki calling out, and that left Izuku Midoriya alone with just one other employee who manned the food offerings.

Izuku wipes the sweat off his brow as he finishes one latte and side-eyes the clock in one swoop. Just one more hour to go until the next shift comes in. ‘Yosh! You can do this Izu! Then die at home curled in bed till the morning.’

He faces the next customer in line, screwing on the bright smile he was known for. “What can I get for you sir?”

Ruby eyes glare back at him. “Large mocha with a double shot of espresso.”

“One mocha double!” Izuku rings up the man’s total and quickly whips up the drink. His body was running on muscle memory at this point having made these drinks so many times before. A mocha was simple enough, chocolate, steamed milk, espresso, done. “Here you go sir.”

“Faster then, usual nerd.” The man grabs his drink and walks away to a nearby table.

‘Never fails,’ Izuku remarks as he moves onto the next customer. The blonde man loved making snide remarks, but he’s never said anything about it because he was also a regular. According to the other coffeehouse employees, blondie only came in when Izuku was working. ‘Probably likes picking on guys like me?’ And today was no different. He sat at a table reading a newspaper with his coffee, staying for thirty minutes or so. Then he repeats the processes the next day.

“Here you go ma’am, one cappuccino.”

Just as Izuku is handing off another drink, a sudden commotion stirs up in the dining area. He looks up to see blondie clutching his throat and surrounding customers panicking. “He can’t breathe!” Someone shouts. More words are thrown. Allergy, nuts, emergency! The baristas eyes blow wide open. Izuku screams at his coworker Uraraka to call for an ambulance and rushes over to the fallen man.

“H-Hold on mister!” Izuku does his best to calm the situation despite the white noise gathering in his eardrums. “Help is coming!”

“H-Haz—el... hazel—nut...” blondie gasps out. “Allerg...all—gic...”

Oh, fuck! Did he mix hazelnut instead of chocolate into the coffee?! “Oh my god,” the panic sets in. “Oh my god, I-I didn’t mean to! Please hold on sir!” If his stupid mistake kills this man, he’ll never forgive himself.

“F-Fucking nerd...”

Tears exploded from Izuku’s eyes, but all he could do was apologize over and over again as the man gasped and struggled to breathe. The blondes lips were taking on a bluish-purple color, hives breaking out along his skin, and his eyes rolling back.

“N-No, no stay awake sir! Stay awake!” He continues to shake the man by the shoulders as sirens resonate outside. Everything was a blur, just him and the customer with hushed conversations of concern all around them. “Please don’t die mister!”

Once the medics rush into the room, Izuku steps back to give them space. He knew procedures during an emergency was to clear the restaurant of customers and secure the cash register, but he couldn’t think straight. All he could do was watch helplessly as they load the man onto a gurney and whisk him away. Luckily, Uraraka had already taken control, phoned the manager, and set about following protocols.

After everything is secure, she tells him to go. “I’ll wait for the manager, so you go check on the customer and keep us informed.”

Like a mindless zombie, he manages a nod, clocks out, and sheds his apron.

“Hey, try not to be too hard on yourself. It was an honest mistake.”

“That might have killed a man.” More moisture pools in Izuku’s eyes. “I like him too... why’d it have to be him?”

Uraraka’s eyes soften. “Izu, just get going, okay?”

“O-Okay.”

The cab ride over to the hospital felt like a death march to meet his fate. All the life was sucked away, the scenery a kaleidoscope of muted colors as his mind raced through each moment of that afternoon. It was all his fault. Staying up late, being tired, rushing, rushing, rushing to keep up with the demands of a barista. Multi-tasking was supposed to be his forte, his pride in always getting the orders right and made quickly. But this time he’d screwed up in the worst way possible.

At the emergency room, the intake person waves him off to the side to wait. The doctors were still working to stabilize blondie, so all he could do was sit there and hope the man came out of the allergic shock. It was a nerve wracking wait that Izuku spent fighting against every horrible outcome. Can you go to jail for something like this? If the man dies, is that manslaughter?! Oh, who was he kidding. He deserved to be punished. Minimally his boss should fire him for being reckless. ‘Please don’t die...’

“Sir, you can go in now. He’s in room 14.” Technically, since he wasn’t family or even a friend, the hospital shouldn’t have let him visit. But because they had no other contacts for the man, and Izuku was clearly upset and shaken over the incident, they must have taken pity on him. Blondie was alive and unconscious. The medications were flushing his body of the toxins and countering the allergic reaction, but he would probably have to stay in the hospital overnight for observations.

When Izuku enters the small room, he sees the man tucked tightly under a blanket. His eyes are closed and IV lines trail to a machine that’s monitoring vital signs. The tears pool again at the horrible sight. Beeps from the machine echo in the silent room as constant reminders of the gravity of the situation.

“Mister...” he sits beside the man’s bed and takes a limp hand in his own. “I’m so sorry.” His head hangs down, “please wake up.”

A whole year had gone by since the first-time blondie had started frequenting the coffeehouse. The man always tipped and always made some kind of comment. Rarely any nice ones, but he’d grown used to it and over time, Izuku wasn’t sure when it’d started, but there came a point in time that he waited and looked forward to each visit.

It wasn’t uncommon to have cute customers come in that the baristas ogled over. Dating customers wasn’t forbidden, just frowned upon because they didn’t want drama to arise. So, Izuku kept his growing crush under wraps. Not that he felt he’d had a chance anyway. Mister blondie looked like a power player. Tall, trim, fit nicely in a tailored suit, while he was just a small, geeky guy with messy green hair and a face full of freckles. He didn’t even know if the man was gay. Oh, his co-workers thought he was. They were convinced his routine coffee trips were too conveniently made during Izuku’s shift alone.

All the tears and turmoil took its toll on the exhausted barista. The four hours of sleep catching up with Izuku before he even knows it. Hours pass by as fitful dreams torture him. Flashbacks of the coffeehouse, of happy times with his co-workers. There he is Izu, your knight in shining business suit! He turns around only to find a red-eyed dragon glaring down at him. A loud roar, screams echoing around them. Panic, fear sweeping through as customers and employees scramble away. The dragon roars, loud, reverberating chills to his core. Izuku’s scream catches in his throat as the beast picks him up with a clawed hand. It’s punishment time nerd!

“But I didn’t mean it!” Izuku whimpers, “please forgive me! I’d never want to hurt you!”

“Oi, if you’re gonna be noisy go away nerd.”

Awaken by the voice and a squeeze of his hand, the groggy barista raises his head off the bed. “M-mister?” The dream fades away to be replaced by a hospital room and redeyes narrowed at him. “Mister you’re back!” Moisture fills Izuku’s eyes. “I’m so glad you’re back!”

“Yeah, yeah, didn’t know you were trying to get rid of me so badly.”

“What?! I-I didn’t— it was an accident mister, I swear!”

“Stop calling me mister. I got a name nerd, use it.”

“M-Mister Bakugou. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean for this to happen to you. I-It’s all my fault but you’re one of our best customers and we wouldn’t want to lose you. I’ll resign if it makes you feel better, just please do not punish the cafe.”

“Tch, if you leave, I won’t go back cause you’re the only reason I go there.”

“Huh? But why?”

“I changed my mind, you're not a nerd, you’re an idiot. Nerds are smart and you are completely clueless.” Bakugou groans and closes his eyes. “Or I’m the idiot for liking you. Either way, it was just an allergic reaction so don’t worry too m...” he feels the hand slip from his and quickly opens his eyes expecting to see the man leaving. “Midoriya?” But instead he sees one leg still on the chair and the rest of Izuku’s body collapsed on the ground. “Yup, I’m the idiot.”

Bakugou gets off his bed and despite being a little tired from the treatment, manages to pull the smaller male off the floor, rolling him onto the bed. He then slides back on and pulls him close, so he doesn’t fall off. These hospital beds weren’t built for two people, but he made it work. ‘This little mouse fits perfectly in my arms.’

He didn’t like admitting it, but that’s what attracted him to Izuku in the first place. Seeing Izuku’s bubbly personality at the coffeehouse. Always bright and cheerful despite his grumpy comments. The fact the man was hard working was a plus. And yes, because he was small and adorable.

As the heir and VP to a family corporation, Bakugou had to be tough and serious, but what he saw in Izuku was a chance for the opposite at least in his personal life. Frankly, the man reminded him of his father. His mom was clearly the one in control, but because his father was her balance who kept the woman grounded. Bakugou wanted that too. So far, his search had turned up nothing until the day he walked into the Plus Ultra Coffee & Tea.

“Am dreaming? Like...” Izuku mumbles. “Yes,” he curls his body in to hide his blushing face. “You, too.”

‘Does this guy always mumble in his sleep?’ Bakugou shakes Izuku gently. “Time to wake up mouse. We can’t stay in the emergency room forever.”

Izuku pops up. Emergency room?! His eyes flare wide. “W-Why?! Oh no, did I fall asleep?!” He looks around. ‘Why am I in the bed?!’ “Mister Bakugou! S-Sorry!” He scrambles off, “I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be, I put you there nerd. Now come on,” Bakugou holds out a hand, “I’ll take you home.”

[purplesurveys]

1252

A - Appearance.

What are you wearing? I have a gray turtleneck and brown shorts at the moment.

What are on your feet right now? I never wear anything for my feet when I’m at home.

What color are your fingernails? I say this a lot on surveys but mine are never painted. Nothing against them, I’ve just never felt the need to spend on something like my nails.

What does your hair look like right now? I have apple hair at the moment to temporarily get rid of my bangs, which I am more than sick of at this point.

B - Best Friend

Who is your best friend? Angela and Andi.

What was the last thing you two did together? The last time I saw Angela we went to the BTS pop-up store. I haven’t seen Andi since January, but when we hung out that evening we just had Korean barbecue and we also parked somewhere in UP to just talk about life in my car. My breakup had been fresh at the time and back then I just needed someone to whom I could vent.

What is (s)he doing right now? I’m sure Andi’s doing something with Leigh, maybe having a video call or something since I think they tend to have one every evening. I’m not sure what Angela’s up to but considering her replies have been a bit slow tonight, I guess she’s somewhat busy at home.

Are you talking to her/him online right now? Angela just replied to something I sent her around 15 minutes ago but the exchange wasn’t meant to be a full-blown conversation, if that’s what you mean.

C - Crush.

Who is (s)he? Eh, I don’t have a crush these days; too obsessed with work to figure out what I find attractive lmaooooo. I do have a main celebrity crush and I might just cite them instead so that I can at least fill this section out. 

What does (s)he look like? Curly hair; mismatched eyes; moles underneath his right eye, on his nose, and on his lower lip, and the widest smile I’ve seen on any person.

What was the last thing you two talked about? He’s a celebrity crush...

Does (s)he make you smile? Yes.

D - Dad

What’s your dad’s name? Edgardo.

What does he do for a living? He’s an executive chef for a luxury liner company. He hasn’t worked in a year and a half due to the pandemic and has stayed in the country this whole time, but we’ve *very* recently been informed that he can go back abroad in around two weeks! Of course it will suck letting go of him again after having him back for such a long time, but I’m just glad the family can finally be on track again, financially speaking. It had been something I’ve been worrying silently about.

What was the last thing you two did together? Had dinner last night, but we did that with the whole family too. We don’t really do things that’s just the two of us.

Do you get along better with him than your mother? Yes.

E - Ebay.

Have you ever bought anything from ebay? No. I’m not sure we have eBay here anyway.

Do you just shop around when you’re online? I don’t really shop ‘around.’ I usually have an idea of what I want to get myself, and it’s just a matter of finding the right shop from which to buy.

Do you know anybody who is addicted to it? I know a couple of co-workers who love shopping, like Gabi.

Have you ever sold anything on it? I’ve never tried selling, but I’m actually in the middle of doing something for the very first time – I’ve decided to get into trading! I got my BTS Butter album yesterday but didn’t get to pull the photocard I was vying for – the pull I got, though, was of the most popular member, which means it would be a very easy trade. I put the trade offer up the other day and I finally got a match yesterday.

F - Facebook.

When was the last time you logged on? Like five minutes ago. I constantly check it.

How many friends do you have? Just checked and it says I have 686. I wanna get rid like half of them though.

Do you hate when your facebook chat messes up? Hmm, that doesn’t really happen.

Who was the last person to leave you a wall post? Angela.

G - Google.

Do you Google everything? Yeah, I think I look up a random item or phrase at least once a day. Doesn’t hurt to learn a new thing each day. :)

What was the last thing you Googled? The K-Pop group g.o.d., since my teacher mentioned them in our Korean lessons earlier.

Would you ever trade Google in for Bing? No, I haven’t used Bing in like 12 years.

What do you Google the most? Synonyms, I think, since I’m constantly writing for work.

H - Hair.

Do you like your hair? It’s a love-hate relationship most days because I hate how thick and frizzy it can be...but I recently had mine trimmed all the way up to my neck and for some reason it’s taken on a wavy form, which I didn’t expect to come out at all. And I’ve found that it actually suits me quite a bit, so I’m enjoying my hair for now.

What color is your hair? Black.

What does it look like right now? Slightly damp since I took a shower not too long ago.

What kind of shampoo for you use? Just a normal Dove one.

I - Ibuprofen 

When was the last time you took ibuprofen? I don’t think I’ve ever taken it? I usually take paracetamol...idrk the difference either. Do you rely on it for everything (cramps, headache)? I only ever take medicine for headaches/migraines.

Are you so thankful people made it? I mean sure, I’m glad there are those who have been able to create products that can instantly relieve pain or discomfort, but I’m not obsessively grateful.

Do you have any right now? I don’t think we have any.

J - Jobs.

Do you need a job? Nah, I already have one.

Where do you work? Media/PR industry.

Where would you work? I wouldn’t change jobs/industries. This is where I wanted to end up in, and I’m really really glad and fortunate to have landed here on my first shot, right out of college, and during a pendemic.

How much money would you like to get paid? An additional P5k (~$100) would probably be more satisfying, but considering my parents aren’t the traditional Filipino parents who suck 100% of my earnings right out of me the second payday comes, I’m able to enjoy a substantial chunk of money to myself, give them a portion of my earnings, and still be able to save.

K - Kissing.

Who was the last person you kissed? That would be my ex.

Will you next kiss be a mistake? I have no idea when that would be and with whom it will be shared, so I won’t be able to give you a definite answer.

Do you kiss someone everyday? Other than my dogs, nah.

Who was your first kiss? The aforementioned ex.

L - Love.

Who do you love the most in your life? My best friends. I’m also doing a whole lot better in the self-love department these days, so that too :)

Have you ever been in love before? Yeah.

Does it make you so happy when you feel the feeling of love? Sure. It feels light and comfortable, especially when it’s shared.

Why is this word so hard to describe? Because everyone feels love differently. < There we go.

M - Mom.

What is your mom’s name? Abigail.

What is she doing right now? She was watching The Good Doctor the last time I checked on her like five minutes ago. It’s her latest obsession.

Where does she work? She works in the food and beverage department of a 5-star hotel in the city.

Do you two shop together a lot? I rarely do my shopping with either of my parents.

N - Netflix.

Do you have Netflix? Technically, I guess. My dad pays for it and we have a family account.

If not, what movies would you order? I don’t think I’ve ever ordered a movie before. Before streaming on Netflix, I just used to get illegal torrents lol.

Do you rent a lot of movies? I’ve never rented a movie. Was too young for it, I think.

Do you have the tool where it just downloads to your tv? No.

O - Ohio.

Is this the state in which you live in? I don’t even live in the US. Never been there either. < Same.

Is Ohio State your favorite football team? I don’t like football.

Did you know Ohio Is For Lovers? I’m not familiar.

Have you ever been to Ohio? See first answer in this section.

Q - Quitting.

What was the last thing you quit doing? Practicing on Duolingo. I had an extremely short period of using the app again a couple of months ago, but I lasted all of two days hahaha I had been trying to get back on learning Korean, but I enrolled in official lessons not long after that anyway so it didn’t make sense to continue the stages in the app.

Do you need to quit talking to someone right now? Nope. The people I’m talking to right now in between this survey are all welcome conversations.

Would you ever quit school? That wasn’t an option for me and I never would’ve done it anyway. 

Don’t you think quitting is stupid? No. Sometimes it can be the strongest thing you can do for yourself.

R - Reading.

What was the last book you read? Does my Korean lesson textbook count hahaha...if not, I haven’t really read anything in years.

Do you own a lot of books? I do, but they are all books from my childhood and teenage years. It’s been a while since I last updated my bookshelf.

Do you have a library card? No, haven’t had one since Grade 1.

Have you ever read a book that changed your life? Without Seeing the Dawn was pretty influential to me, but I dunno about ‘life-changing.’ I need to read more to find the book that would have that effect on me.

S - Safety.

Do you always wear your seat belt? I do these days. I didn’t really practice it when I used to drive to school, whoops. Always forgot to do it.

When riding a four-wheeler do you wear a helmet? I rarely get to do that.

Did you ever wear knee pads and a helmet when riding your bike? Nah. I can’t ride a bike either. Do you always think safety first? In COVID terms, yeah. I have a face mask and shield on as soon as I find myself outdoors.

T - Talk

Who was the last person you talked to? Reena. Who are you talking to right now? Nobody. It’s just me, this survey, and some music in the background.

Who did you last talk to before you went to bed last night? Angela and Reena, if I’m not mistaken.

Do you need to talk to anybody right now? No, I’m good.

U - US ARMY

Do you support it? I don’t know enough about it to have a bold opinion, considering I’m not even from the US and it’s been a while since their army has had any strong contact with my country.

Do you know anybody who is in the army right now? I think one of Angela’s uncles has a high position in our national army.

Don’t you ever wonder why their camo doesn’t match anything? Not really.

Would you ever go to the army? No.

V - Virgin.

Are you a virgin? Nope.

When did you lose your virginity? I was 18.

Do you wish you would’ve waited? Nah, it felt right when I did it the first time; and I maintain that stance now even though I’m no longer with that person.

Do you think you could have stayed a virgin until marriage? I could. Sex isn’t a big deal to me.

W - What.

What are you doing right now besides this survey? I’m also listening to mono. and taking bites from my doughnut every now and then.

What are you craving? Spicy tuna salad, but it can wait. Andi got me my favorite truffle baked macaroni because it’s CM Punk day today :D :D and that’s able to satisfy my savory cravings for now.

What do you need to buy? Shelves.

Why are you taking my survey? I’ve mentioned this before but I like categorized/themed surveys, so alphabetical ones are always fun for me.

X -Xanax 

Do you know anybody who is addicted to Xanax? I don’t think so.

Have you ever taken it before? No.

Do you even know what it is? No, actually.

Have you ever suffered from anxiety or depression? I’m sure I have.

Y - Yourself.

Name. Robyn.

Age. 23.

Do you smile a lot? Sure, I’d say that’s common these days.

Z - Zebra.

Are you addicted to zebra striped? Not really.

Do you own anything zebra striped? Nah. I have some stuff that come in black and white stripes, but not zebra print. Is anything on any of your websites zebra striped? No.

[wreckofawriter]

Boredom

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Word Count: 4,049

Warnings: Angst, swearing, kinda hints at depression ish

Summary: The cure for your boredom just happens to have white blonde hair and icey grey eyes.

A/n: kinda feeling like shit rn, anyway here's this.

    You lay on the floor of the ballroom which resided inside your home, your arms spread like some sort of bird, your legs the same way. The room was, of course, empty, reminding you slightly of a massive tomb with its barren walls, sprawling polished marble floors and elegant silk curtains pulled tightly shut. In a way it was. 

    “More like a jail cell.” You mumbled to yourself. You weren’t sure exactly when it first started to happen but you were pretty sure it was around age twelve. As a child you were always taught the wrong thing, you were taught to avoid strangers, to mind your own business and fear stupid little things like spiders. And being young and naive you followed those directions closely, unwavering and constantly. But now you were being suffocated. Suffocated by the thing you should have avoided, the thing you should have minded and the thing you now feared more than you did anything else.

    Boredom.

    It was like darkness, it took you over slowly, it crept upon you inch by inch silently until you were plunged into its dangers headfirst. When you were younger, there was always an easy fix, you had plenty of toys to play with, a massive house to run through and enough friends to fill the room you currently lay in, but as time passed, toys became unentertaining, the house seemed to get smaller by the second and you realized friends were never truly there. So now you felt yourself begin to drown in the sea of boredom which claimed to be your life. You had tried focusing on your studies for a while but you honestly would have rather died. You tried to find hobbies but all the things that used to bring you joy now left you feeling empty and unimportant. 

So you began to do the only thing that brought any sort of feeling into your veins. You  caused trouble

So far you have turned yourself into and illegal animagus, cut and dyed your hair 7 times, pierced your ears in four places and your nose in two, given yourself multiple tattoos, you had thrown massive ragers, trashed your entire house, done more drugs than you cared to count and gotten sixteen staff members at your house fired. At this point your parents were convinced you were helpless, they never seemed to pay attention to you anyway, they had gotten you a therapist and now you went once a week and saw how quickly you could make each new shrink cry, your current record was 22 minutes. 

You groaned loudly banging your head on the hard floor which you lay, “I’m so fucking bored!” you shouted through the empty halls the only response being your own echo. You racked your brain for ideas and came up blank as you stared up at the crystal chandelier which must have been worth millions. You slowly sat up rubbing your eyes with closed fists and letting out a moan of frustration. You got to your feet which were bare, padding to the exit of the large room and beginning towards the spiral stairs which you had already climbed a number of times that day. You groaned and plopped on the first step, exhaustion for some reason making your bones feel as if they were made of lead. 

You sat there for a while staring at the hallway you had just walked, it’s the ceiling so high you had to crane your neck to see it, its walls decorated with giant portraits of relatives you have never met. You bit your lip the idea of defacing them dancing in your head. You eventually cast it away decided it wouldn’t even be very fun. 

You had a sudden urge to paint. You had plenty of massive canvases upstairs but those would not do, that is what you were supposed to do, and where was the fun in that? 

Your mind wandered back into the ballroom with its massive eggshell wall, just waiting to be decorated. Your lips widened into a smile, your eyes twinkling with sick glee and anticipation. You stood suddenly taking the steps two at a time to your room. 

You sprinted back down them a few minutes later, arms full of art supplies, you sprinted into the ballroom, unpacking all the paint. You didn’t have nearly enough to cover even half of a wall in the giant space, but you would make do. 

You grabbed the small jar of deep red, adding some brown and black to make a deep crimson before you added some water and stared at the white wall in front of you. Your lips were greeted with a rare smile once again and you threw the paint at the wall. It splattered across the wall, some bouncing straight back at you while most of it stained the wall in a gruesome scene. You watched in a trance as the paint dripped down the wall and slowly began to pool on the floor. You then plunged two fingers into the black paint not bothering with your brushes and began to drag them through the mess of red slowly letting your image fall into place. 

Your mother’s heels clipped down the hall in a synchronized symphony of disappointment. You were soaked in paint when she got home. Her eyes had widened knowing it was not going to be a pleasant work of art. 

She had attempted to have you tell her where the artwork was but you only winked telling her to find it herself, Now she trailed around the house looking for some masterpiece you spent almost the entire day on. Finally, she walked into the ballroom and her mouth dropped. 

Pasted on one of the walls was a bright splash of color. Paint the hue of rich blood splatter the background for the painting, on top of the red was a rough silhouette of what was clearly a young girl, she had her arms spread on either side of her, her hair floating around her like some sort of goddess, her eyes were the only detail added and they were painted in a startling white, wide open, conveying a level of terror. Across the middle of the work, crossing the girl’s stomach were two words, still slowly dripping white paint lazily down the wall. 

“You like it?” You asked your mother a light tease making your words taste bitter. 

“Back off!” You glared at the man who was carrying your trunks and owl. He had made the fatal mistake of bumping you with one of the bags he was holding and you now growled at him as your owl snipped at him her deep black feathers shimmering in the light. 

You walked through the brick wall before heading towards the train. A young girl stumbled over your foot and you glanced down at your now scuffed black boots. You turned your head to yell at the girl but was instead met with a pair of icy eyes. You giggled taking in the boy’s appearance, he was dressed in a trim black suit with a collar with looked like it was choking him. 

“Looking pompous as usual Malfoy.” You smirked another fit of laughter threatening to burst from your lips as he rolled his eyes. 

“Looking rebellious as usual y//l/n.” He mocked glancing up and down your outfit, “New tattoos I see.” he spoke gesturing towards his own neck. 

You gave him a closed-eyed smile which caused a crimson to bleed up his neck. “You like it?” You asked tilting your head so he could get a better look at the deep mark etched into your skin. 

He started at the scene depicted on your flesh, it showed a cobra its fangs sunk into a human heart, blood dripping from it’s wound. He resisted the urge to shiver. 

“It’s lovely.” He drawled sarcastically. 

“Always so kind Malfoy.” you giggled, you opened your mouth to speak again before you heard a sharp cough which made you wince.  You turned the light from your eyes disappearing, “Father?” You spoke sweetly, “I didn’t know you were coming.”

He glared past you at the blonde, “I thought I told you not to talk to such families.” He growled lowly.

“Oh, I just ran into him,” You lied a new sparkle dancing in your deep y/e/c. You promptly turned back to the boy standing on your toes and reaching up to cradle on of his cheeks in your hand as your lips pressed softly to the other. “Save me a seat, Dracy.” You said making sure to be louder than necessary. You then turned back to your father’s eyes which were narrowed with furry as your own challenged him, daring him to say something. 

“I would never speak to such families.” Your lips curled sickly lipstick now slightly smeared. A sudden rush of excitement met you at your father's pure furry, you finally found a hobby. 

You found immense joy at this new weakness lodged in your family. Your parents had recently become numb to the trouble you caused, your attempts had become fruitless as your parent’s tolerance built, but now you realized you had struck a much-hated nerve. The Malfoys. 

Draco was never sure what was up with you. You were a particular person, someone he could never quite read, your actions were spontaneous, almost no thought being put into them. You jumped into the world each day just as unsure of what you would do as anyone else, yet you always made an incredible splash. You intrigued him. 

When he was younger he had simply liked you because of your thirst for disorder, but as he began to grow your smiles became precious jewels, your laughter sweet symphonies and every step you took was flourished with deep red roses. You were priceless. 

You weren't friends, acquaintances was pushing a boundary, he wasn't sure which line you stepped upon but he wished it was one closer to him. 

Ever since a misjudged and unfortunate business deal between your families the y/l/n's had cut the Malfoy's from the lives.

Luckily for Draco, you were never one to follow rules, especially those made by your parents. 

Draco shook his head attempting to rid his head of the feeling of your lips, which still seemed to be pressed to his cheek. He took a seat ignoring Blaise across from him and letting his eyes drift to the window on his right. 

A bubble of laughter emerged from the cabin and his head snapped upward. 

"Blaise!" You cheered bouncing on your toes before taking your seat next to Draco, "It's amazing to see you!" 

"It's good to see you too y/l/n," he smiled, "You seem like you're in a good mood." 

"I'm in a brilliant mood!" You exclaimed, "My dad came to drop me off today." 

Blaise's eyebrows knitted in confusion before a sly smirk took his lips, "You pissed him off didn't you." 

"Naturally." You shrugged.

"I'm guessing you had quite an eventful summer." Draco murmured. 

"As always!" You lied, you couldn't quite admit that you had been crushed by the emptiness you felt not but days before, you had to ride the new high you had acquired through a simple kiss on the cheek, "I painted a mural in the ballroom, mom wasn't too happy about it." 

"I can imagine." Draco laughed.

You reach Hogwarts still quite hyper from the events that transpired at the train station, the absolute glee you felt at the hatred that rested in your father's eyes was unlike any drug you'd had before. Your mind reeled, already working to reach that peak again. 

You hummed happily in the carriage ride, you practically danced into the hall a lollipop still lodged between your lips. You felt invincible. 

Unfortunately it didn't even take a week of mind-numbing classes and monotone voices to bring you back to the routine of boredom which had become your life. 

You lay staring at the ceiling of the grand hall, it was currently breakfast, your head rested in Draco's lap as your eyelids struggled under the weight they held. 

"You okay y/n?" He asked for the fifth time that morning. 

"I'm fine." You lied fiddling with the hem of the blondes robes, your fingers dancing across his wrist as the boy fought a blush. 

He opened his mouth to protest your answer but let his words stay behind his lips as the screech of owls echoed around the hall. You seemed indifferent to the new situation until a shimmer of black caught your eye.

You sat up holding out your arm for your owl to perch before untying the letter looped to her bare leg. 

You tilted your head curiously, mail was a rare occasion, particularly from your parents. Looping golden letters printed on expensive paper proved it could only be from a higher class. You didn’t bother reading the address, curiosity burning deep within you. You tore through the golden wax, your family's seal placed upon it.  You pulled the letter from its shell, your dull eyes seeming to grow pale as you released a small groan. 

“What is it?” Draco asked peering over your shoulder at the letter you held. 

"Another fucking ball." You moaned throwing your head onto the table in front of you, "I mean how many do we need to have? It's not like anything had changed since last month. My parents just need an excuse to say, 'Hey look we're still prestigious assholes.'"

Draco snickered beside you. Blaise took the letter from your hands and you gave no protests. He scanned it before bursting out laughing. 

"It says you need a plus one." He smirked. 

In milliseconds your mood changed. Your head popped from the table a dangerous twinkle filling your eyes. You turned to Draco.

"Will you do me a favor?" You asked desperately.

"Umm sure." He shrugged, he would have jumped off a bridge if you had asked with the same enthusiasm. 

"Sweet! You're going to this bullshit with me." You smiled.

"Y/n won’t your parents be pissed?" He sighed biting his lip. 

"Royally." You responded leaning even closer to the boy, your eyes were wide with excitement, cheeks lightly flushed, hair disheveled from previous frustration, you looked angelic. Then you thrust your lips onto his. 

Draco's eyes went wide before slowly slipping shut, his hands snaking around your waist as you forced your tongue into his mouth. 

He tasted minty and slightly of blackberry jam. He smelt of expensive cologne and honey. 

You pulled away panting slightly, "Take me to Hogsmeade this weekend." It clearly wasn't a question. 

"Okay." Was all he could manage his face still beat red.

You smiled grabbing your things and walking away without another word. 

Draco turned to Blaise, his eyes wide, cheeks fiery heart thumping at an uncomfortable rate. "What the fuck?"

Blaise burst out laughing.

You weren't exactly sure why you kissed Draco. It just happened. You liked it though, the kiss was nice, it felt better than it had kissing any other boy, it felt wrong. You knew it wasn't supposed to feel that way, but maybe that's why you liked it so much, it wasn't smooth and soft, it was bumpy and rough, like water clashing harshly onto stones. You loved it. It was new and exciting and different it broke your routine, throwing a wrench into the gears of your perfectly planned out life. It was everything you had been yearning for. 

You feel an unfamiliar sense of nervousness take you over as you dressed for the ball. The gown you were wearing was far too elegant for you, its sleeves long like a Victorian queen’s, the silky fabric causing you to shiver.

You left your room in a hurry. Your makeup is not quite done right, your dress a bit wrinkled. You didn’t care, you never did. 

Draco wrung his hands, sweat seeming to be never-ending. He knew he shouldn't be nervous, your parents already hated him why was he so scared? Because it's HER parents a voice whispered. It was true. Before Draco even knew of the y/l/ns hatred for the Malfoy’s he had fallen in love, He could help but want to please your parents. A heavy sigh followed by the sound of heels on marble echoed through the small room he resided in. Draco glanced upward, his mind going blank as he caught your eye. 

You looked like a princess,  a small silver tiara topping your head of y/h/c as proof. But isn’t wasn’t the dazzling jewelry which took his breath from him, it was the light that held your eyes. The look of a child so innocent and pure mixed with that of a psychopath who had just trapped its next victim, it made you shine. Your pupils seeming to dance in a sea y/e/c. You walked straight up to him and without any words slammed your tongue down his throat, Draco seeped into the kiss pushing you back towards the wall and eliciting a small moan as you tugged on his hair. The boy was about to reach for your zipper when you pulled away from him, lipstick now smeared, Dracos own lips tinged red. 

“We should go.” you murmured before slipping from the room. He still didn't understand you.

Draco trailed after you widening his steps before catching his hand in your own. You walked down the spiral staircase which you hated so much hand and hand with the solution to your problems. Just before you reached the room which you once stained red Draco stopped pulling on your arm. 

“What's up?” You asked.

“Y/n, I don't think I can go in there, your parents hate me.” You opened your mouth to brush off his comment but then your eyes met. He looked desperate. He needed something, something that another kiss couldn't fix, something real.

You sighed before throwing your arms around the boy, “I don't care what my parents think Draco.” You lied, “I don't care that they hate you, all I want us you by my side” You felt cruel as the dishonest words left your mouth. 

You pulled away cupping his face in your hands, kissing him for the first time in your relationship, lightly, lovingly. 

“Now let's go.” You said snatching his hand and entering your jail cell, but this time you had the key. 

You enjoyed the stares that the two of you brought, but it wasn't enough. A few murmurs were exchanged but other than that business proceeded as usual. You felt like you were caught in some weird trance, not enough was happening, no one had yelled, no one had gasped, fire had not erupted from the walls, you need a reaction.

You felt he needed to break something, scream or burst into tears, you need to shatter this terrible nightmare you were living in. Your mother’s sharp gasp did the trick, you hid a smirk as she hurried towards you not even sparing a glance at Draco before dragging you away.

“What in Salazar is Malfoy doing here?” She hissed in your ear, the grip on your arm becoming slightly too tight. 

“He's my date.” you smiled, so calmly and so innocently it was hard to believe you were riding the high of her utter horror. 

“Your what!?” She rasped at you her grip on tightening.

“Date.” You repeated a grin still plastering your features.

She let out something that sounded like a whimper, “You said you were bringing your boyfriend.”

“I did.” Your lips seemed to hold an untold evil as you looked at her. 

She looked like she was about to cry, “Y/n! How could you? This is a Malfoy, we lost hundreds of thousands because of them.” 

“Correction, you lost hundreds of thousands over them.” You smirked, “By the way, I’m quite disappointed you painted over my mural, I worked so hard.” You pouted

Something new arose in your mother's eyes, she was no longer disappointed or sad or even mad, she had reached her breaking point, “You are a demon of a child.” She snarled. 

You felt as if someone had just given you an illegal pill, you reached a point of ecstasy you didn't think was possible you had done it, you had broken the sculpture of your life, “The devil did give birth to me.” You taunted. 

She stood speechless, her eyes filling with hatred.

“My date is getting lonely so I’m going to go, but thank you so much for this lovely chat,” you spoke turning on your heel and walking back to the boy who stood awkwardly by a table of elegant food. The second you reached him you locked your hands around his neck and connected your lips, your heart thumping wildly from the excitement you held. 

You pulled away and winked ignoring his questioning gaze, “Wanna dance?”

He nodded. 

After the ball, your mission seemed to be accomplished. Your parents broke their neat well put together little facade and lost it, your mother burst into tears, your father held a wand to your neck and the whole time you smiled. You smiled because it wasn't what you do every day, it wasn't the thick routine you had become so accustomed to. It wasn't the sharp timer you felt ticking behind you every moment as if you were always one step behind. It wasn't the timeline your parents had drawn for you and forced down your infantile throat. It was chaos. Absolute chaos. And you had never felt more alive.  

Just as quickly as it started it all stopped. Your parents disappeared, you went to school again and feel back into the sick loop of your life, and as your high died out and you realized you had created nothing more than a bump in the road your plan became meaningless. And so did the people in it. 

You no longer yearned for Dracs touch. His lips felt numb against your own, his hands in your hair meant nothing, the taste of caramel and smell of cologne dulled, the color he used to hold seems to be drained from him. But really his purpose had. 

He could sense it, your numbness, your indifference your complete and utter boredom. But he kept hoping. Hoping you would kiss him as you had in that ballroom, that you would hold him as you had that night, that the light in your eyes would return because your touch still sent him into frenzies, your kiss still felt like fireworks, you still tasted of butterscotch and bubblegum. Your hand in his hair still brought butterflies to his stomach. He still needed you. 

“I can’t keep doing this.” 

The boy cringed at your words, “Doing what?” 

“Just this Draco.” You seemed tired, “I don't love you.” 

Those four words effectively smashed him into pieces. He wanted to scream.

“I don't think I ever did.” You spoke dryly, wetting your lips. 

Those six shattered him, “Then why did you kiss me?” He asked, his throat felt raw and scratchy like it had been clawed apart. 

You shrugged, face still vacant of any emotion, “You were new.”

    “That doesn’t make any fuckings sense!” he burst suddenly, turning to face you. You didn't even blink.

“Nothing makes any fucking sense Draco. None of this did.” You sighed. 

“Why did you lie to me?” He snarled, "Why did you say you loved me, why did you say you needed me? Why did you make me believe you?”

You didn't speak, you weren't sure what to say.

“Why did you fucking lie to me y/n!?” He repeated, his voice cracking. 

“I don't know.” But you did know. You had always known. You needed a distraction, something to break the routine, to force chaos upon you and he did just that. He elicited the fire in your father’s eyes, he brought furry to your mother's mind and he gave you a week of freedom. And he was worth it. You would never utter it out loud, but breaking him was worth it. Because for just a moment he had cured an incurable disease. Boredom. 

Tags:

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

Masterlist

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

My Little Secret part 6

Summary: You’re excited about your first date with Arthur, so excited that you find yourself nearly stressing over it. When you finally get there, some unexpected events happen.

Warnings: Blood mention

The rest of the weekend could not go by any slower.

You’d returned to work that Saturday, expectedly hounded by your boss and coworkers after the news had spread about Tom’s attempt. You kept yourself vague, reiterating that you didn’t want to take matters to the police and that a simple ban should suffice. You finally managed to get away from the prying questions once you were slammed with the expected weekend crowd.

Arthur hadn’t stopped in that night. Your own disappointment did not dampen your excitement for Monday night however. Sunday flew by in a breeze after you spent the day diving into your schoolwork, having been more eager to finish it now.

Monday morning though was dreary. You’d woken up to iron clouds and the taste of rain in the air. It began to storm once your classes were over, and you were nearly soaked from the short distance from the building to your car. Once settling into the warm and dry interior, your phone chimed.

Sam had invited you out for a late lunch, which you responded. You hadn’t eaten since 7 am and your stomach rumbled loudly at the mere thought of food. You met her at a small café on campus, which was fuller than usual due to students trying to stay out of the rain.

Sam managed to find a corner table, and waved you over once you stepped inside. You squeezed past the others and managed to sit down.

“Hey girl!” she greeted.

“Hey,” you huffed, shaking your head slightly to rid of the rain droplets. “Damn, it’s packed in here.”

“You’re telling me,” Sam sighed. “Feels like a can of sardines.”

With a few minutes of idle chatter and ordering your food, you two quieted down to enjoy your meals. After a few short moments of silence, Sam spoke again.

“Anything new with you?”

You paused, wondering if you should tell her what happened the other night with Tom. You decided against it, especially when in a crowded place such as this. The last thing you needed was Sam grilling you after your coworkers and boss, in a public place of all things. Instead your mind returning to your ever building excitement for tonight. “I have a date tonight.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “What? I thought you were gonna focus on school first!”

You gave a nonchalant shrug. “Yeah well…I couldn’t resist.”

“Who is it?” Sam pressed. “Is he cute?”

You smiled shyly, eyes casting down at your soup bowl. “It’s, uh, Arthur. That guy that bought me the drink in Saint Denis.”

Sam’s face twisted in thought for a moment before she blinked with realization. “That older guy? You’re into him?”

“He’s…really charming and sweet. Very gentlemanly too. And you said it yourself, you thought he looked good.” You responded, quirking an eyebrow at her.

 Sam tilted her head in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right. Just be careful, okay? He might just try to get into your pants.”

“He’s not like that,” you answered immediately. “Believe me, things got…a little heated between him and I the other night-“

“Oh?”

“He stopped it before anything big happened, though. Said he didn’t want to do something he’d regret.” You continued.

Sam’s eyebrows raised at that. “Wow, you don’t hear that often from a guy at any age. Guess you nabbed yourself a good one.”

You rolled your eyes. “I haven’t nabbed anything, Sam. It’s just a casual date.”

Sam raised her drink to her lips, muttering, “A casual date after almost having sex.”

“Oh, shut up!” you hissed, your voice shuddering with a laugh, throwing a small napkin at her face.

---

You’d gone home after your lunch with Sam, though having a good few hours before your date with Arthur. Your excitement was at its peak, making you feel restless. You could not stay still, bouncing back and forth between this and that and everything else. You tried to study, only having gotten through a few pages of notes before your mind jumped elsewhere. You cleaned, only finding minimal things to actually clean. You eventually turned on your TV, though it was just background noise at this point as your thoughts were abuzz with how the evening would play out.

The burger joint wasn’t anything too fancy; just a small restaurant with some good cheap food and a couple of good cheap beers to boot. Dressing up would be inappropriate in this scenario, although you were tempted to wear one of your nicer pieces just to show off for him.

How would he dress himself? Probably the same way he usually does, which you wouldn’t mind at all.

Should you order your usual food or go with something light as to not appear like a slob? Wait, why were you even considering your food choices? He probably would not care, he didn’t seem like the type that would.

With nearly two hours left to kill, you managed to calm down enough to settle on your couch. The TV was still on, and you began to flip through the channels for something interesting to watch. You eventually lost interest, landing on a news channel before turning your attention to social media.

“…Citizens of Saint Denis say they came across a dead body in an alley…”

Somehow, that sentence diverted you back to the TV. The news anchor was standing on the side of a busy street in Saint Denis.

“Coroner’s report that the victim was drained of his blood from multiple puncture wounds on various places of the body. Some say that they may resemble vampire bites.”

You stared at the TV in confusion.

“Farfetched as this seems, this is not the first body to be found like this. Other reports from New York and Los Angeles have found victims of similar fates. Are there killers who are mimicking the actions of fictional monsters?”

Who the fuck would try to pull themselves off as vampires? And why? The mere thought of it seemed farfetched that you wondered if you turned to some sort of channel of satire. Not that it was amusing, you felt bad for the victims and their families. Dying of blood loss must be a terrible way to die.

You turned the TV off then, shrouded in complete silence before the chime of your phone made you jump.

Sam had texted you again, asking about what you planned to wear.

Oh shoot, in your distraction you hadn’t exactly picked anything out!

After sorting through what you had your closet, you eventually picked out a nice blue button-up blouse and some black skinny jeans, laying them out on your bed and snapping a photo. Within a few minutes Sam sent you a thumbs up emoji.

You hopped in the shower, spending a little extra time to make sure you’d washed yourself thoroughly. You got out, brushing your teeth and drying your hair simultaneously before getting dressed. You plucked your eyebrows, inspected your face for any incoming zits, and finally added a light touch of eyeliner and lip gloss for some extra flair.

You observed yourself in the mirror, admiring yourself of having done such a great job on yourself. It’d been a while since you’ve been able to doll yourself up, having confined to the usual work clothes or your usual hoodie, T-shirt, and jeans or sweatpants when in class. You snapped a picture of yourself, posing cutely. You sent it to Sam, and a moment later you got a response.

Babe you’re so hot!! You’ll knock him on his ass for sure!

You giggled to yourself. Having dressed up like this gave you a confidence boost, enough that all prior nerves had drained away. When you finally glanced at the time, you’d realized your preparation took more time you thought. It was 7:45, and the burger joint was a ten minute drive away.

You threw on a light sweater on top of your outfit, slid into a pair of your favorite shoes and hurried out of your apartment, stepping into the cool and humid air left behind by the storm. You drove off, your heart beginning to pound from your excitement.

Sally’s Place, it was called, a quaint little building placed just on the outskirts of the university on the corner of a street. It had a gravel parking lot on the empty side, which was only half filled with cars. The outside tables were still soaked from today’s rain, so that meant inside for you.

As you parked and got out, you gazed around, hoping to see the motorcycle. No such luck yet. You took a deep breath and began to cross the parking lot when the familiar roar of an engine ripped through the night air.

As if on cue, you spotted him riding down the street, the slick black body glowing underneath the golden streetlights. You smiled widely as he slowed down and pulled into the parking lot. He wasn’t wearing a helmet, you noted, when he came to a full stop at a spot just a few yards away. Once he killed the engine and stood up, his eyes immediately met yours, a smile crossing his face.

He closed the space between you two with a casual walk, his hands resting in his pockets as he crossed the gravel. He was wearing a leather jacket, a different one that his normal attire, that shone underneath the fluorescent lighting of the entrance. Colors of the neon signs bouncing off the wrinkled black surface. Underneath he wore a simple white V-neck shirt tucked into crisp blue jeans, held up by a leather belt with a Western style buckle. His hair was slicked back as it normally was, but it appeared he had it trimmed neatly. He’d shaved as well, his cheeks and jawline smooth but with the faintest hints of stubble reappearing.

God, he was gorgeous.

“Hello, darlin’.” He greeted with a warm smile, stepping forward to give you a kiss. You’d almost stumbled forward, catching yourself at the very last second to awkwardly meet his lips briefly.

“H-hi.” You said, keeping your breathing even. Why were you this awkward around him again?

He chuckled slightly, clearly amused by your fumble. Instead of commenting on it, his eyes searched your features, traveling up and down your body with an expression of content. “Y’got all dressed up for me? Didn’t have to go n’ do that.”

You blushed heavily, turning your gaze away slightly. “Well…you didn’t have to look so damn handsome yourself.” You countered with a giggle.

He let out a huff. “Jus’ wanna make sure my ugly mug ain’t too hideous to look at for ya.”

You blinked, your shyness disappearing as you met his eyes. “You’re not hideous, Arthur. Hell, you’re one of the best looking men I’ve met.” You said seriously.

He shook his head slightly as if in disbelief. “Ready to go in?” he asked, holding his arm out to you.

Deciding not to continue to conversation, you nodded and took his arm with a smile. He led you closer to the door which he opened for you, allowing you to step in before walking in himself. You were greeted by the hostess, who brought you over to a booth.

As you walked, you noted the amount of people inside certainly reflected the amount of cars outside. Most were students from the school with a few older people here and there. The bar was half full with already tipsy middle-aged men watching a football game on the flatscreen on the wall. Soft country music played overhead.

The booth was illuminated by a soft red light. Once the menus were placed in front, you opened yours. “You ever been here, Arthur?” you asked.

“Nah, can’t say I have.” He replied, idly playing with the pages of his menu.

“Oh, then let me recommend some things. Their burgers are bangin’ obviously. But they also make good steaks and quesadillas. Oh, and their fried chicken is truly southern style!” you giggled.

He gave you a slight smile, then sighed and pushed his menu away. “They all sound great, darlin’. But I’m gonna pass on eatin’.”

You frowned and tilted your head in confusion. “Um…why?”

“Food intolerances,” he responded. “Can only eat…certain things.”

“Oh…well, they have gluten free options, and they don’t cook anything with nuts if that’s what you mean.” You pointed out.

He shook his head. “Appreciate the thought, but it’s more complex than that. S’okay though, I’ll pay for your meal and whatever else ya get. All you gotta do is provide me with some good company.”

How unorthodox. You supposed you couldn’t feel upset over this, if he had a legitimate intolerance, who were you to judge or say otherwise? Hell, you were still happy to just be here with him. “Alright, we’ll do that then.”

Arthur smiled at you. “So go on ‘head n’ order what ya want.”

It took you a while to really decide, given you were concerned about ordering something that may be too expensive for him. He assured you it would be fine, which only made you more awkwardly aware of the pricing. You eventually settled on a quesadilla and a beer. Once the waitress walked away after taking your order, it’d fallen silent between the two of you.

You took a swig of your beer, the bitter taste a welcoming sensation. You weren’t sure what to talk about at the moment.

“How was school today?” he asked you.

You blinked. “Oh, uh…same old, I guess. Boring and a lot of information to unpack,” You sighed. “How was your day?”

“Uh…borin’, same as yours. Spent a lot of it inside.” He said, clearing his throat.

“As part of your job?” you asked curiously.

He gave a slight shrug. “Eh...not really. I work durin’ the night actually.”

“So you’re not working tonight.” You said as a statement.

“I asked off just for this,” he said, giving you a small smile. “Can’t say my boss was very happy with me, but he’ll get over it.”

You smiled as well, feeling once again shy underneath his gaze. You took another swig of your beer. “So…now that we’re actually here, what is it that you do exactly? I know you’re definitely not an outlaw.”

He chuckled, leaning back in the seat. “Let’s just say my job requires me to travel.”

You tilted your head, curious as to why he was reluctant to share details. “Where have you gone in your travels?”

“Everywhere, feels like it anyway,” he let out a slight sigh. “All around the states, different countries.”

“That’s pretty cool. I’m kinda jealous actually,” you mused. “Never been outside of America.”

Arthur shook his head. “It gets tedious after a while, miss home n’ all. But it’s somethin’, keeps me busy and puts money in my pocket.”

You nodded in understanding. That’s what your job was right now. “I feel that, bartending isn’t the most glamorous of jobs but it’s something to get me by until I finish school.” You sighed.

“Brings you some interestin’ people, don’t it?” he said with a slight smirk. “Even if it’s just some ol’ fool who don’t drink no more.”

You snorted into a small laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

It’d gone quiet between the two of you once again. You cradled your beer in your hands, thinking of other things to talk about. You’d noticed Arthur’s gaze seemed to have traveled elsewhere, watching as another couple entered the restaurant. An odd little quirk about him. Perhaps he just liked to people watch.

The waitress soon returned with a full plate of cheesy quesadillas, placing it in front of you. The steaming food appeared so delicious, the savory scent wafted into your nostrils. You took a deep breath, feeling your stomach growling with each passing second. “God, this looks so good.”

“Good choice, darlin’. If I could eat it, I would,” He commented. “Enjoy it.”

You looked up at him and smiled. “Thanks, Arthur.” And with that, you began to dig in. You’d had their quesadillas before, and each and every time was more delicious than the last. The conversation had died down a little while you ate, occasionally speaking up about something or another before turning back to your food. You’d learned he was 36 years old and had a love for horses. He also liked to draw in his spare time, which prompted you to ask him if he’d show you some of his work. He had a photo on his phone, a sketched out drawing of a woman staring out the window. Despite how rough the lines were, it was beautiful.

You were nearly finished with your food when he suddenly stood up.

“S’cuse me, Y/N. Be back in a few minutes.”

You nodded and reabsorbed back to your food, paying no attention to where he wandered off to, assuming he was just going to the bathroom.

However, you’d finished your food and he still hadn’t returned. Another five minutes had passed and still no sign of him. You craned your neck around, hoping to see his figure elsewhere in the bar. No such luck. You decided to wait a few minutes longer, though couldn’t wait as you became increasingly fidgety and worried over time. You stood up and headed toward the bathrooms. Of course you couldn’t go into the men’s room, so you awkwardly waited outside.

A man walked up and you asked him to check and see if Arthur was okay in there. He gave you a weird look, but shrugged and nodded, pushing the door open and heading inside. After a short moment, the man came back out.

“Sorry ma’am, your friend ain’t in there.”

A spike of anxiety shot through your heart. If he wasn’t in the bathroom, did he somehow leave without you seeing? You thanked the man and headed back to your booth in hopes that he made his way back to wherever he was, only to still find it empty.

Was he outside, maybe? Unless he decided to up and ditch you entirely. You shook your head. Arthur didn’t seem like the type to pull off something that immature, at least you hoped he wasn’t. You headed toward the door, hoping he was outside and smoking a cigarette or something. As you pushed the door open, the damp air greeted you like a heavy blanket. You didn’t see anyone in your immediate vision aside from a couple of people clear across the parking lot who were loading into their cars. Your eyes scanned the rest of the lot quickly, and your mind flooded in relief to see the motorcycle still in its spot.

But where was Arthur?

The relief did not last long as it was quickly overcome with concern. Did he get hurt somehow? Should you look for him just in case he was hurt? You couldn’t fathom any other reason why he’d disappear on you while still remaining in the vicinity. A myriad of different thoughts tornadoed through your head, and you shook it. Maybe he genuinely needed help.

You began to walk the perimeter of the restaurant, though it was becoming harder to see the further you ventured from the entrance. You were careful with your steps, and your ears strained for any sounds of struggle. Aside from the melody of nature’s nightly ballad around you, it was quiet.

A thump of somewhat close proximity made you jump, originating from the very back of the building. Through the chirping of the crickets, you detected a soft, low moan. Both curiosity and anxiety overcame the better of you as you headed toward the noise, the moaning growing steadily louder the closer you got.

You rounded the corner, and through the dim you immediately spotted two silhouettes rammed up against the wall. Or, at least one was. The other had the first pressed against it in an odd embrace. Your first thought was that it was some couple attempting to get freaky in public, until your eyes adjusted and you recognized the second silhouette as-

“Arthur?”

He immediately pulled back upon hearing your voice, a popping sound resonating from the other one. Alarm coursed through you. Was he kissing the other person?

“Arthur, what’re you doing?!” you demanded. “Are you making out with someone? Because if you are-”

A loud and disoriented moan cut you off, resonating from the figure on the wall. You squinted your eyes toward them, making their features out in the dim. It was man, couldn’t be much older than you. His face held a look of distant serenity, as if he were high. His mouth hung slightly open. The next thing you noticed were two dark streaks painted down his neck.

“Y/N.” Arthur’s voice rumbled. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why?!” You exasperated. “So I wouldn’t see you making out with this guy?!”

“No!” he shot back, holding up his hands. “You just…you shouldn’t see this, you can’t.”

“I already just saw you mouth to mouth with this guy, Arthur.” You hissed.

He stepped closer to you slowly. “I ain’t makin’ out with him. Hell, I ain’t even into men. But you need to listen-“

“For what reason could you possibly have to-”

When he stepped even closer to you, his features became more prominent in the dark. Two identical streaks ran down his chin from his lips. You frowned in confusion.

“Look, ya need to relax.” He said calmly, reaching out to you with a hesitation as if you were a scared animal. He was close enough for the wisps of his breath to skim across your face, bringing forth the coppery scent of-

Blood.

Your eyes widened and you immediately stepped back. “What…” you choked out, unable to form any coherent words. You finally spluttered, “What have you done?!”

His hands dropped to his sides, his entire figure hunched over as if in defeat. He however kept his eyes on you. “Y/N-”

You didn’t wait for him to finish. Every instinct screamed at you to turn and run, and you did. You spun on your heel and launched forward, your muscles straining as you sprinted away.

Unfortunately, you didn’t make it further than a few steps.

Strong arms wrapped around you, pinning your body to his. You gasped and wriggled in his grip in any attempt to pull yourself free. He was not budging, and you dig that back of your heel into his shin. “Let me go!” You yowled, only uttering the first two words before a cold hand clamped across your mouth.

“Y/N, stop!” He hissed under his breath, completely unphased by your attempts of defense. When you didn’t listen and continued to fight him, he held you to him with a vice like grip. “You need to listen to me!”

Despite every effort you’d tried to escape, nothing seemed to make him budge. Your legs flailed uselessly against his body, and wiggling proved fruitless from how tight he held you. Every part of your brain told at you to keep trying, but you knew this struggle wouldn’t end with you winning. He was too strong and you were no match for him. You reluctantly sighed in defeat and halted your struggling.

“Fine.” You grumbled. As soon as you’d submitted, his grip on you loosened.

He placed you carefully back on your feet, a notion you weren’t expecting. It’s caught you off guard given the circumstances. His hand lingered briefly on your arm before removing it. His head tilted down, hiding his eyes while he stared at the ground.

“I ain’t sure how to say this, Y/N.” he mumbled to you, the tone in his voice absolutely hesitant and resigned. He wiped the blood from his chin. “Never did want ya to find out, least not this way.”

“Find out what exactly, Arthur?” you asked him as your voice wavered.

His head shot straight up, his blue eyes staring right into you with burning intensity. “I’m…” he took a deep breath. “I’m a vampire.”