#love is a fire that lays waste to the old to make way for the new…

[deprivedmusicaljunkie]

GUYSSS YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HE FELL IN LOVE WITH THE FIRE LONG AGO!!!!!!!!!!

[sincerelyneo]

hiiii will you repost your old haechan frat boy fic 🫣

i'm not sure if this is the one you were talking about, but it's the only google doc i had of haechan in a college au.

all bark no bite | l.hc

❯ summary: Lee Haechan is the most annoying man you’ve ever encountered. But that doesn’t mean you don’t find him hot; and maybe that’s why he has you flat on his mattress one night at a random frat party.

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: college!au, rivals, smut.

❯ words: 2.5k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, angst, hate sex, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up !), pet names, excessive use of the name ‘baby’ and ‘princess’, begging, dirty talk, reader uses she/her pronouns, haechan is very cocky, haechan 1000% has a crush on the reader.

Lee Haechan is an asshole. A condescending, irritating asshole who knows exactly how to get on your fucking nerves and—

“God — fucking — dammit—!”

— is currently the asshole pressing you against his mattress.

Truth be told, you don’t even know how you got here. You remember being shoved in a closet with him for Seven Minutes in Heaven at some random frat party his friends were throwing, but you for sure as hell remember absolutely refusing to kiss him.

“Why not?” He’d sneered, folding his arms. “You scared you’re gonna like it, Princess? Promise I’ll take real good care of you–"

"Oh, please,�� you’d scoffed right back. “Let’s not pretend you know your way around a girl’s body, Hyuck. I doubt you could even find my clit–"

"I would obliterate your pussy if you’d let me, and you know it,” there was a glint in his eye as he looked you up and down, “And we both know you’d like it.”

You were so fired up that you hadn’t even noticed how close you’d gotten to each other; you could feel his breath on your lips, his chest against yours. So irritated by his cockiness, you hardly even registered what you said next until it was too late:

“You’re all bark no bite, Lee Haechan.”

For the last three years you’ve been at college, you and Haechan had both been walking on eggshells around each other. There’d always been tangible tension ever since you had shut down one of his rants in class and essentially destroyed him — and from there it’d been a competition to one-up one another. You hated him, he hated you… but doesn’t the line between hate and lust wear oh so thin when it’s someone as hot as him?

The answer is yes, evidently.

After the seven minutes we’re up, Haechan wastes no time dragging you out of the closet and to his bedroom, earning him a matter of gasps and ‘ooohhhs’ from the rest of the players.

Next thing you know, you’re lying on your stomach, hands pinned at the small of your back as he thrusts into you so deeply you swear you can feel him in your stomach. His sheets rub against your clit with every body-wrecking slap of his hips against you, your throat hoarse from screaming. And for a moment you’re really, really, really fucking sorry for even doubting his abilities so much — because God can he fuck.

But you’d never tell him that, you don’t need to. His ego is already massive, he’ll live without validation from you — or so you think.

A hand crowds underneath you, before seizing your neck and pulling you up. The shortness of breath makes you pant, pulsing around him instinctively and you hear him laugh in your ear.

Fucking asshole.

And as if he hears you, his fingers find your mouth — and you gag, because his fingers are fucking thick and he’s shoving them down your throat. And the worst part is you love it, your mouth swallowing them the minute they push past your lips like it was just instinct.

"Oh, baby,” he laughs breathlessly, “Next time you do that, make sure it’s on my dick."

"You fucking wish—” you grunt, because he’s laying into you real deep now, slow, languid thrusts that have you refraining from shuddering all over– “as if there’s going to be a next time, you dick."

"Oh?” his hips still.

Then, almost thoughtfully, they begin again. Slow and teasing and not nearly enough to have you writhing in pleasure. His pace is tortuous, and if he didn’t have your arms pinned behind you, you’d claw at his back to make him speed up.

“Really? You think one night of the best sex you’ll ever have is enough?"

"Please, your dick game isn’t that impressive,” you say flatly. “Just make me cum and get this over with.”

You feel the heat of his breath as he dips his head again, placing kisses on your jaw so gently that for a moment you’re taken aback. “Don’t get impatient now, baby. I told you I’d take care of you didn’t I? Just…” His hips still again– “I think I’d like you to ask for it.”

“Ask?” You scoff, incredulous.

He nibbles down on your ear, before brushing past it with his lips low enough to whisper, “You're right. I meant beg.”

“What, you get off on girls begging for your permission–?"

There’s a rough snap of his hips into you and you have to bite hard down on your lip to stop yourself from whimpering.

"Not just any girls,” he mutters, so quiet that you almost don’t hear. “Only you.”

You’re going to pretend that your heart doesn’t flip when he says that, partially because of how sick it is that that gets you off, and instead focus on what the fuck is going on.

Did Lee Haechan just admit he wants you to beg for him? The same man who’d made it his college mission to torment and tease you at every given opportunity wants you.

If you weren’t lying on your stomach and taking every thick inch of him you’d be running in shock horror. But you find the idea isn’t quite as horrifying as you’d imagined.

“… Maybe we can fit more than one round in tonight, but that’s all I can offer you,” you say after a moment. You can feel him freeze up behind you. “I’m a busy girl with exams, Hyuck, I don’t have time to be running around with strange men–”

“Strange men?” His laugh is really nice. Sweet and dorky — the opposite of the usual mischievous chuckling he did when he knew he had gotten under your skin — and you only manage a huff of your own laughter yourself before you’re caught off guard by his steadily increasing grinds. “And after those exams? Got any time for a strange man like me?"

“…I’d have to check my calendar.”

He hums, and you swear to God if he stops again you’ll take back everything. "But for now… What’s your calendar open to, baby? Three? Four rounds?”

“Bold of you to assume you’ll get me to cum more than once,” you mumble, but you’re beginning to lose your breath as he picks up the pace once again. “I’ll warn you, though – I get loud after two.”

You don’t have to look back to know he’s sporting a smug as fuck grin. “You better muffle yourself with a pillow then, because I’m not stopping.”

“You’re so fucking sexy when you do that.”

Okay, so maybe the whole ‘waiting until after exams’ bit is getting to Haechan. He wouldn’t wait until your calendar cleared up, he couldn’t, his testosterone wouldn’t let him.

It’s been a whole three days since he got to fuck you; and God was it driving him insane.

You glance up at him now, unimpressed. You knew studying with him was a bad idea, but he’d been so insistent; and you had to admit, knowing he had made you cum four times made his presence all the more tolerable to hang out with.

“When I what? Do science homework?"

"No, no – I mean, yes. When you concentrate you get this small… crease between your brows…” He reaches forward – concentrating himself – tugging the plush of his bottom lip between his teeth as he reaches out to poke between your brows. “You look fucking sexy.”

“Alright, Casanova, hands to ourselves” you snort before you return to your reading.

The silence doesn’t last long, and the second he opens his mouth you swear you’re two moments away from taping his lips together.

“Lemme eat you out.”

“Wh– no!” Horrified, you peek around to see if anyone had heard him. But the library is virtually empty – it always is after 11 PM on a Friday.

And also, you’re both tucked away in a table at the back behind the History books that no-one ever takes out.

“You should be studying.”

“Don’t worry about me, I got this exam in the bag.”

You glare. “You’re awfully confident.”

“Yeah.” He shrugs, slumping in his seat again. “You’re my only competition, and, well…”

“Well, what?” You demand, setting your book down.

This was the usual dynamic you were familiar with when it came to Lee Haechan.

“You saying I’m not good enough competition, for you Hyuck? If my memory serves me correctly – and it definitely does – I beat you by 10% on our last exam.”

His own eyes narrow.

Oh, you just hit a nerve.

“Just for that,” he begins slowly, pushing his chair out, “I’m gonna suck your clit ‘til you go dizzy.”

“What part of no don’t you understand?”

But the promise is enticing and you part your legs anyway as he shimmies underneath the table.

“You’re such a fuckboy, I swear–”

“I am not!” He objects incredulously from beneath you. “I just like how you taste, baby.”

A fuckboy, you swear. But he’s got a way with words (and a way with his fingers, and a way with his tongue, and a way with his di—).

You feel your skirt being rucked up and your panties being pulled to the side – seconds later, his face ducks up from the table, grinning wolfishly.

“You’re kinda wet down here, baby. Are you sure you’re okay?” He teases.

“Shut up before I scream,” you grunt, folding your arms.

“Wouldn’t that be a dream?” He sighs. He retreats not two milliseconds after, though, and you hear him whistle lowly to himself. And then, so quiet you almost don’t catch it: “Fucking hell, baby.”

You make a promise that if he calls you baby once more you’re going to kick him because it makes your stomach flutter and your palms sweat — but then he licks a rough line up your pussy and you decide that maybe you’ll allow him to call you whatever he pleases.

Your head falls back as he does it again, and again, and again, as if he’s trying to clean up whatever mess you’d made in your panties. And normally you’d be irritated — wanting him to just move onto your clit already — but he genuinely sounds like he’s enjoying himself.

Quiet groans in his throat and passionate movements of his jaw, and his hands grasp your thighs so tightly you know there’ll be bruises. He smacks his lips wetly and you jolt, peeking out from behind the bookshelf to see if anyone had seen.

“Calm down,” He says, words muffled against you. “Nobody comes behind here on a Friday night. We’re safe.”

And as if to punctuate his point: a finger pulls back the hood of your clit, and true to his word, he sucks. Quickly, you shove your fist into your mouth and begin to gnaw on your knuckles, squeezing your eyes shut so hard that you see stars.

“H-Hyuck,” you whimper, “Unless you want me to get us caught–"

"I know, I know,” he says, sighing. His face comes out from underneath the table again. “I’ll be good if you pull your top down.”

“W-what?” To be fair, you’re still delirious off pleasure because his thumb hasn’t stopped grinding against your clit. “Why?"

"So I can play with your tits,” he says easily, shrugging. “C'mon, Princess. Show me your boobs.”

You stare at him for a moment, disbelief written on your face. “You’re such a man.”

“And you’ve still got the limp to prove it, haven’t you, baby? Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you can’t walk straight.”

“Whatever.” You pull your top down, tug your breasts out of their cups – only to appease him and get him to shut up. Immediately he takes one in his grabby hands, all warm and rough as he tugs and pulls at one nipple.

So, okay, maybe he does know what he’s doing. Sometimes. Who are you kidding? All the time.

“Hm, you like that, don’t you?"

"Shut up,” you hiss, “if you get us banned from this library because of your dirty talk I’m never fucking you again—shit."

“We both know that’s not true.”

A steady stream of suckling on your sensitive bundle of nerves calls your attention elsewhere; at the same time, your nipple is rolled between his index and thumb. You feel like you’re buzzing all over, and it’s not because you’ve had five cups of coffee in the last three hours.

You don’t realise that you’re panting – fucking close – until Haechan releases your clit with a pop. He ducks underneath the table to peek up at you again. "Are you trying to get us caught?"

"I’ll be quiet,” you promise through gritted teeth, shoving your top into your mouth. You restrain the urge to curse him out because you could feel the beginning flutters of your orgasm on the tip of your tongue, and you know he’ll draw it out as much as possible if given the chance. “Just keep going."

He’s wearing a victorious, shit-eating grin when he gets back to it, energy increasing rapidly. He eats pussy like he’s competing for a trophy, and truth be told, you don’t mind being his prize if he makes you cum as hard as you did a few days ago. His tongue moves eagerly, tracing letters and numbers and fucking his name on your sensitive skin before sucking again.

No noise. You try to coach your brain into silence.

You never usually have a problem keeping quiet for the first orgasm. But as much as you hate to admit it, the act of being eaten out in a public library is a different kind of turn on.

And it really doesn't help that Haechan knows exactly what he’s doing.

Maybe that’s why when you cum, you have no problem with clinging to any part of him you can get your hands on — his hand on your chest, his hair between your legs. A weak whimper follows as you contract around nothing, hips bucking gently into his mouth, and he takes it all in.

Fuck.

He slides back from under the table and resurfaces a metre away, grinning widely. You know the image of you looking so ruined because of him is doing wonders for his ego — so as quickly as possible you pull your top down and readjust your skirt, panties irritatingly rough against your skin.

"Good, huh?"

You don’t want to give him anymore satisfaction, but you know with the orgasm he had just given you so publicly, there was no use in lying. In fact, you’re certain lying to him would only make his cocky ego flame even more.

“Whatever, Hyuck. You give good head, I’ll give you that.”

He hums, leaning backwards. “Thanks, baby. Now, bend over."

”Excuse me?“ You say.

“C’mon, you can’t just let me eat your pretty pussy and not expect me to get hard. You’re blue balling me here, Princess.”

You’re so genuinely shaken by his unfaltering confidence that you just stare.

“And don’t pretend you don’t love my cock.”

“Hyuck—”

“Bend over, I’m not kidding.”

You’re in a library. Letting him eat you out was already a reach — but you can’t deny that you do love the feeling of him inside you. And he did take good care of you last time. And —

You sigh in defeat, standing. “Remember what I told you last time?"

"You get loud after two. I’ll keep that in mind, baby.”

[puppywilliams]

fuck halloween

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first ever posted smut so im lowkey rlly nervous to publish this but i wanna test the waters..heres some halloween smut.

warnings: semi drunk reader, dealer ellie, fingering r/receiving, oral r/receiving, car sex, halloween party, vampire ellie, pirate reader, use of the word “daddy”

you were tipsy. colors colliding together from the lighting of shitty LEDs some dickhead placed in the corridor to make the party seem less boring than what everyone knows it is. you weren’t there for the party, or even the worst booze in town shockingly (considering the fact you’re always down to drink). no-no. you were here for Ellie. your girlfriend who’s trying to make some quick cash from selling.

you still dressed up, and so did ellie. even though you secretly knew she did it just to make you happy.

you looked down at your attire, wrapped in a cheap spirit halloween pirate costume. ellie was somewhere in this place that seemed Far too big to be a house dressed as a vampire.

you wandered until the knee high boots you thrifted made the soles of your feet ache.

after a few minutes of searching you finally spotted her auburn hair and the weed in her hand she was exchanging for a wad of cash.

you let yourself wander some more until she finished. it was a Rule. Don’t intervene in a deal, she didn’t want you to be linked to whatever she was selling, it was too dangerous, she doesn’t Just sell weed.

when she was finished however, you trotted over. not missing the way her eyes lingered over you. she placed a hand to the side of your waist, thumb rubbing over you gently.

“hey..” she uttered in That voice. the voice that made you know without a doubt you were gonna be fucked silly tonight.

you decided it would be best to play the ‘ditsy drunk roll’ even though you Both knew you weren’t that drunk. ellie knows you, and she knows exactly what you drink When you drink. never lets you take a sip out of anything unless She clears it. its another rule, one you follow like the rest. they’re all in place to keep You safe.

you stall for a second before answering. “hiiii..” you drag out in a voice that screams ‘please for the love of god fuck me silly tonight’.

she gives you a toothy grin as a response and leans down to nip at your neck. when her glued in fangs don’t let her get much access, she goes for the safe route.

“you wanna get out of here, babygirl?” she says staring at your body, already drunk on the way your figure looks in the costume. you give her a simple pleading nod and thats all it takes for her to drag you away from everything and out to her truck.

you fully expect for her to take you home, lay you down, and make you beg for the strap, but she doesn’t. instead opening the car door of the back seat, the hinges to her old truck squealing. she signals for you to hop in and gives your ass a little pat as you crawl up into the seats you’re Too familiar with.

she follows after and shuts the door, immediately ripping the fangs out of her mouth and licking at her teeth. getting used to the feeling of her mouth now being completely empty, and more so preparing to fill it with nothing but You instead.

she kissed at your neck softly, you whimper a bit before shes biting down fully and causing you to let out a sharp gasp. its an accident truly, ellie was a kisser. maybe even one to suck on your neck a bit and give you a hickey. but Never a biter.

shockingly however it doesn’t seem to last long, as youre both already so worked up theres no point.

while she kisses down your chest, her hands are running down your thighs, lighting a fire that runs all the way to your core.

its like shes picking you apart piece by piece each time to make you fall apart, normally its by the slowness of it that ellie has a tendency to lean towards, but not tonight, because tonight she isn’t wasting a single minute.

you prove yourself right as she rushes to rip the center of your fishnets open, making a sound of each twiddle of woven fabric being torn apart. shes looking down and groaning as she rubs your cunt through your panties, shes making sure she uses her two fingers at a slow pace, up and down. you gasp when she reaches your clit each time. all she does is look at you with a shit eating grin. it makes you wanna kick her teeth in a little. a wet spot now nice and visible down the center of the lace she picked just for You.

you can see the way her eyes roll back a bit when she spots it. “fuck baby..so wet huh?” she asks softly, but all you can seem to do is nod quickly. shockingly, thats all she needs tonight. normally she would make you tell her Exactly what you wanted, slap you around a bit to get you going, but tonight she simply pushed your panties aside, sticking in two digits into your heat and groaning at the wetness.

ellie had recently gotten finger tattoos, you had found a new love in watching them disappear as she placed them inside of you. you pulled up your dress and groaned as you examined the scene before you. “fuck…” you said to yourself breathlessly. ellie shush’d you.

“i know baby..shh i know..”

she wasted no time curling her fingers and hitting that spot deep inside of you that made your belly churn. “yeah baby..take it..its okay take daddys fingers.” she breathed out and you moaned like a pornstar with the way her thumb rubbed at your enlarged clit and her fingers pushed in and out of your pussy with ease from your slick.

“all this? over what? two fingers? god id think youre a slut but youre too damn tight for that...shit..so fucking perfect just for me and my cock, shh baby i know…” she adds on as she hears your babbling whines.

she removes her fingers from your swollen cunt, instead deciding to lean her face down and start kitten licking at your clit while she holds your panties to the side. using her free hand she held onto you leg, keeping you nice and spread for her while her tongue grazed over the swollen button. licking a bit farther down to your entrance before sinking it into you and curling it upward.

she rotated between a pattern of tongue fucking and sucking on your clit and sinking in two fingers while swirling her tongue around it. no matter what she did you were Out Of It. moaning so damn loud people inside could probably hear and predict your orgasm, maybe not as good as ellie, but theyd have a clue. it didn’t take you long before you were all dumb on her fingers and wrapping your fingers in her hair whimpering “‘mgonnacumpleasefuckpleaseellieplease” when you fulfilled your promise ellie was quick to lick what was left over, pulling her fingers out and moving upwards to put them in your mouth. feeling you suck on them she grinned at you. “thats my good girl”

[elliezato]

❀˙⋆Summer With You⋆˙❀

Pairing: Ellie x Reader

-Modern au!

Summary: You and your friends decide to rent out a cabin on the beach over the summer. This was your last summer before leaving for college, so you wanted to make it memorable. This summer was going to be perfect. You spent your days in the water, taking In the moments in the sun with your friends.

It didn't take long for you to realize your feelings for your best friend Ellie.

The way her wet hair drips down her shoulders as she gets out of the water. The way her fingers strum the guitar as you gather around the fire. The way the stars light her eyes during late night swims. The way her smile grows when she’s with her girlfriend… It's all too much.

Will these feelings ruin your friendship and the whole summer? What will happen when it's time to leave Ellie behind for college?

Word Count: 4.4k

⋆˚✿˖°

a/n: Im back!! I've been in the summer mood recently and I just need to be laying out by the lake rn. I recently read "SYNS" by carmellie and was inspired to make this! I've really been wanting to write a slow burn, angst fic so I hope this turns out good.

I will probably split this story into a few parts depending on how long I want this to be.

This will be my first real fic because honestly I've only written smut in the past and I'm not sure if I like writing stuff like that. I might add a little bit of it every now and then in my stories but it's not something I want to continue to write.

Anyway, I'm super exited for this story! Please give me ideas for future chapters! I love to hear feedback on how to improve or what you guys like.

----------------------------------------------------------

Packing your bag was the only thing you weren't looking forward to doing on this trip. You always over packed and struggled to fit everything in your bags. Clothes and shoes were thrown all over your room as you pick out what you should pack. This trip is going to be 2 months long so you need enough clothes to last through the summer but not too much that your car will be over flowing.

"Eww, do not bring that" Dina says in disgust as you hold up an old one piece bathing suit from freshmen year.

You knew she was right, but you didn't have many options when It came to bathing suits. You packed it anyway, along with some other suits from the previous summer. The sun shined through your window, lighting up the room. It was almost noon and you needed to leave soon. The drive to the cabin would take the majority of the day so there wasn't much time to waste.

Dina helped you load your car with your bags. There wasn't a lot of room in the trunk but you two made it work. You slam the truck shut, making sure it wouldn't pop open from all the clothes. Your parents hug you goodbye in your drive way as you and Dina get ready to leave.

You get into your car and put the top of your convertible down. The breeze felt nice in your hair as you drove off. Music plays as you sing your heart out. This was going to be a good trip, you could feel it. Dina pulls out her digital camera and snaps a pic of you driving as your hair blows in the wind. Your sun glasses reflect the trees lining the road.

It's been a long time since you've been on a nice trip. Let alone with all your friends. Nerves start to build as you get closer to the cabin. Ellie and Jesse were supposed to meet you there. Recently it's been awkward with Ellie. Usually you two could talk for hours and spend every second together but things have been different.

⋆˚✿˖°

You noticed this sudden shift in your friendship during one of your sleepovers a few months ago. Ellie was sitting on the floor of your bedroom while you were getting ready for bed. She starts going on a rant about this girl she's been thinking about asking out. You don't know what happened but in that moment you felt this strange rage fill in your heart.

Ellie has always been open about girls she finds attractive but she's never made any moves. The thought of your best friend dating another girl upset you for some reason. You've never felt this before and decided to just let it go.

"She so pretty y/n! Like I really think I'm going to make my move" Ellie scrolls on her phone as she talks to you.

You look into the mirror while washing the rest of the soap off your face. "Go for it Els, you could probably pull anyone"

"Yeah, I know" Ellie says sarcastically, now putting down her phone.

She walks over to you and meets your gaze in the reflection on the bathroom mirror. Your eyes revert down to the counter. For some reason you felt your body tremble as she got closer. You couldn't understand why you were acting like this. You've known Ellie your whole life and never saw her as anything other than your best friend.

She picks up her toothbrush and you leave the bathroom. You lay in bed waiting for Ellie to finish in the bathroom. She noticed the sudden change in your demeanor. After a few minutes your friend turns off the lights and lays nexts to you in bed.

"You ok?" Ellie turns to look at you. Her hand rubs up and down your arm.

"Yeah, Im just tired" You lied. You were wide awake but the thoughts of Ellie swarmed your mind.

Things have been like this ever since then. Every time you guys hung out, you two always end up in awkward situations. You hated the fact that things felt like this. You almost convinced yourself that maybe your friendship isn't as strong and it use to be. Maybe you two are drifing apart. You prayed that this wasn't the case but it was the only logical way to explain the distance between you two.

⋆˚✿˖°

"Can we pull over? I have to pee and Im starving" Dina throws her head back into the seat.

"Yeah, I need to get gas anyway" You pull into a gas station and Dina runs in as you follow shortly behind her.

The area was very unfamiliar. There wasn't many people around. You walk inside the convince store and pick out a few snacks and your friend finishes up in the bathroom. You look over to pick out what you want and see a package of watermelon sour patch kids. These were Ellie's favorite. You guys use to walk to the gas station when you were younger and eat these on the curb in the summer heat.

You pick up two bags, one for yourself and one to give Ellie when you see her later tonight. Dina grabs her snacks and you pay. You quickly fill up your tank and get back onto the road. You put the top of your conferable back up now that it's getting darker and the air is cooling down.

The rest of the drive was quiet. Dina slept as you listed to music softly. Superache by Conan filled the car as your mind thought about Ellie. She was all you could think about for the rest of the drive. You were excited to see her, hoping she felt the same.

A few hours later you pull into the driveway of the cabin. You looked at the familiar car already in front of you.

"It looks like they're already here" You nudge Dina, trying to wake her.

You text the group chat, letting your friends know you arrived. As you get out of the car to help unload all your bags you hear your name being called out from a small distance. You look up and see Ellie and Jesse walking towards you to greet you and help with the bags.

"Y/N!! You guys took long enough." Ellie pulls you into a tight hug and then turns to Dina to welcome her.

Your eyes were glued to Ellie. She was dressed in a pair of jorts that ended a few inches above her knees. Her shirt displayed the album cover of her favorite band she took you to see last semester. She wore her old converse that probably need to be replaced sometime soon.

You guys walk into the cabin with all the bags. It was beautiful. Trees surround the land and fireflies lit up every now and then around the house. You could see a glimpse of the ocean from the front. You walk into the cabin and place your bags onto the floor.

"You guys have to see the view!" Ellie grabs your wrist to bring you to the backyard.

Dina and Jesse followed as Ellie opened the backdoor for everyone. As she opened the door you were met with the view of the beach in the distance. Lanterns lit the path leading down to a fire pit. Lights were strung across the yard, lighting up every inch. You closed your eyes and listened to the waves crashing in the distance and the bugs humming from the trees.

"Holy shit. This is insane!" Your eyes light up thinking about all the memories that are about to be made here.

"Lets go down to the beach!" Jesse says as he's already sprinting down to the sand.

"I'll be there in a minute, Im going to change into a bathing suit." You begin to walk back inside until you feel a tug on your arm.

"Come onnnn!" Ellie drags you down to the beach with everyone else.

There wasn't anyone on the beach. It was more of a reserved area for residents only. You kick off your shoes as you stumble down to the water. You watch as your friends run into the waves laughing and taking in the moment. Ellie looks over at you from the water smiling, motioning you to come in. You roll your eyes and walk into the water. It was oddly warm. You cringe at the fact you're still dressed in your clothes from the drive here.

You suddenly gasp as you feel yourself getting pushed into the water. "Hey!" You sit as waves crash over you.

Ellie looks down at you and laughs but it doesn't last long before Jesse pushes her in. "What the fuck!"

You're now laughing at the sight of her drenched in the water. She grabs your hand and helps you up as you two are now dripping wet. You look up and notice how bright the stars are here. Back home you can barely see the stars. The city isn't the best place for star gazing. You can feel your body start to shiver.

The wet cloths that cling to your body get colder by each second. Ellie notices and pulls you close. "Lets go back up and change"

You take your bag of clothes and bring it it your room. Your eyes widen when you realize the room you were sharing with Ellie only has one bed. You don't understand why you're in shock. You've shared a bed with Ellie many times in your life but for some reason you felt weird about it.

"Nice right?" She says as she walks past you into the room.

The room was nice. It was open and had big windows looking out to the ocean. You place your bags down next to the bed and pull out a pair of pjs. You feel her eyes on you as you walk to the bathroom to shower and change for the night.

You take your time getting unready. Turing on the shower as you slip out of your wet clothes. The water is hot and feels nice against your shivering skin. Fingers run through your scalp as you wash out the salty water, tasting it on your lips as it washes over your face.

You dry off your body and put on fresh clothes. You throw your wet hair up into a towel as you wash your face. As you exit the bathroom you notice Ellie is no longer in the room. You walk downstairs to the kitchen to see all your friends sitting at the island laughing.

"Were ordered pizza, I hope that's fine" Dina says smiling, then returning to her conversation

"Im literally starving, I could fuck up some pizza right now" You say as you sit and join them at the island.

"I think Cat is going to join us for a week. She's supposed to be here next Saturday" Ellie looks at you waiting for a reaction.

You immediately feel a frown forming on your face. You hated Cat. You hated how she practically stole Ellie from you, and now she's coming on your trip!? Ever since Ellie made her move on Cat they've been inseparable. She never referred to Cat as her girlfriend but you knew it was coming. The way Ellie looks at her. It hurts. You figured it was just because she doesn't spend all her time with you anymore. Maybe you're just jealous that Ellie's time is being taken up by someone else.

You were looking forward to spending time with Ellie on this trip and now she's inventing Cat? You felt your heart drop at the thought of Ellie spending the next week with her.

"That's exciting" You say as you force a smile but it's clear your upset.

Suddenly there's a knock at the door. "That's probably the pizza" Jesse gets up and walks to the front door.

You make your way over to the living room with a box of pizza in your hands. You place the box down on the coffee table next to the other boxes. Ellie hands you a glass of water as she takes a seat next to you on the couch.

"What movie are we watching?" You feel Ellie's body shift next to you as she grabs the remote to scroll through the options.

"Want to rewatch Bottoms? I don't think Dina or Jesse have seen it yet."

"YES!" She searches up the movie and hits rent without any hesitation.

⋆˚✿˖°

The night was nice. You rested your head on Ellies shoulder as you watch the movie. The boxes of pizza are practically empty except for the left over crust from Ellie that she refuses to eat. The movie was almost over and you could feel your eyes getting tired. You've already seen this move a million times so you decided to go ahead and go to bed.

"Where are you going" Ellie looks up at you as you remove yourself from her arms.

"Im going to head up to bed. Im tired from driving all day. I'll see you guys in the morning" You smile and say goodnight to Jesse and Dina.

"Okay, goodnight! I'll be up there right when the movie ends." She gives you a soft smile in return.

The bed was comfortable. It was easy to get settled in as you wait for Ellie's presence. Your eyes close as you wait for her. You could feel yourself drifting off until you hear the sound of the door opening. Your body turns towards the door and you open your eyes to see Ellie walking into the room.

"Sorry, did I wake you up" She quietly closes the door.

"No, I was still up." You watch as she pulls out her toothbrush from her bag and walks to the bathroom.

She eventually joins you in bed. Her body was close. You could feel her settling into the mattress. The widow was slightly open, allowing the sound of the waves crashing to fill the room. The fan kept the room at a cool temperature as you pull the covers higher up your body.

"Do you like Cat" Ellie breaks the silence and turns to face you in the bed waiting for a response.

Her face was close. You could feel her gentle breath on your cheeks as she waited for you to answer. You knew you couldn't tell her the truth. She's your best friend. There's no reason for you dislike Cat, but you did, but you couldn't tell her that.

"Yeah. Why?" Your response was cold and blunt.

"You just always change the subject when I bring her up or you just seem to always get upset." She frowns. "I just really want you to like her because I think I'm going to make things official with her."

You almost was to cry when you hear those words come out of her mouth. Your heart aches. You knew this was coming but you prayed it wouldn't happen. You wished things would fall through between them. You hated that you felt this way. You wanted Ellie to be happy. You really did but you've been letting your emotions get in the way.

"Do whatever you want Ellie" You turn to face the opposite way. You didn't mean for your response to come out as harsh as it did, but it was too late.

"This is exactly what I was talking about. I don't understand why you're being like this" Her voice is harsh. "Ever since I told you about Cat you've been so distant. I don't know why you're being like this but clearly you need space."

You feel her get up from the bed. "Where are you going?" You sit up and look at her.

"Giving you space. You obviously are upset with me and I don't know why." She gets up and leaves the room.

You lay back down on your back as the tears that formed in your eyes begin to fall down your cheeks. Her words stung but she was right. You feel bad for being so short with Ellie, she doesn't deserve it. Your whole life you and Ellie have been so close. You told each other everything. The reason your friendship is changing was because of you.

After tossing and turning in the empty bed for a while you look over at your bag and see the candy you bought for Ellie but forgot to give her. You decide to get up and find her, still feeling bad about earlier. The room was dark and hard to navigate but you found the door. You walk downstairs to see Ellie laying on the couch. She's wrapped up in a small blanket, sleeping softly. You sit on the edge of the couch and look at her with a feeling of guilt settling in your stomach.

"y/n?" She slowly opens her eyes and looks at you.

"Im sorry Els." You look at her with damp eyes. "Im sorry I've been so distant and I'm sorry for being rude." You wipe your tears trying to gain composer.

Ellie sits up and wraps her arms around you, bringing you close to her body. She wipes your tears as she holds you. "Stop crying. Im not mad at you, Im just confused."

"I know and Im sorry" You rest your head on her chest.

You eventually lay down on the couch with her. There isn't too much room but you make it work. Your bodies press against each other as you close your eyes. Her arms are wrapped around your waist, still trying to calm you down. You quickly fall asleep, feeling that your friendship is returning to what it once was.

⋆˚✿˖°

You wake up alone on the couch, hearing chatter from the kitchen. Sitting up and looking over you see your friends making breakfast. The air smells of salt and pancakes.

"Look who's finally up" Jesse says teasingly as he flips a pancake.

"You hungry?" Ellie asks as she holds up a plate of food she had already prepared for you.

You get up from the couch and sit at the table. The kitchen had huge windows that had the perfect view on the backyard and the beach. The cabin was so pretty during the day. The sunlight lit up the whole house. You look up as you see Ellie placing a plate in front of you. She sits down and joins you for breakfast.

"Do you have any plans in mind for today" She looks up at you as she takes a bite of pineapple.

"I really want to explore this area and go to the beach." You smile at her as you spread the butter on your pancakes.

You put on your bathing suit and then some shorts over as a coverup. The weather was hot but not humid. There was nice breeze outside. There were a bunch of beach bikes on the side of the cabin for guest so you and your friends decided to explore on them.

Wind blew through your hair as you rode down the dirt paths from the cabin to the nearest sidewalk. Music played through Ellie's speakers as you rode. You eventually came across a small beach town with restaurants and shops. There were people walking through with friends and family enjoying the start of summer break.

You tied your bikes to a post and decided to walk around. "This place is so cute!" You take out you phone to take some pictures.

Dina points out a small local coffee shop and starts walking towards it. You guys enter the shop and order coffees to start your morning. Ellie wasn't a huge coffee person so she got a refresher.

"Els you need to try this!" You hand her your drink waiting for her to take a sip.

"No thanks. I really don't like coffee" She pushes your drink away.

"Seriously Ellie, its so good, you have to try it" You push your cup back into her hands.

She hands you her drink so you can try it as she takes a sip of your coffee. "This is disgusting!" She cringes as the taste of coffee lingers in her mouth.

She takes her drink back and washes out the bitter taste of coffee from her mouth. The coffee wasn't even strong, it was mostly washed out with a sugary creamer. You laugh watching Ellie's reaction to the coffee and took it back from her hands.

The town was small so it didn't take long to explore it. You guys planned on trying every restaurant here over the summer. The breeze from the ocean felt nice. The air smelt of salt and coffee.

You and your friends got back onto your bikes and rode down to the beach. The weather was starting to get warmer as noon approached. You set you bike up again the beach entrance and step onto the sand. You take off your shoes and toss them into your bag and walk down to the water. Ellie follows shortly behind and sits down on the towel that Dina places on the warm sand.

You join Ellie on the towel as Dina and Jesse head towards the water. "Im sorry about last night, I was just tired. I don't even remember why I was upset." You say looking at Ellie as she takes a sip of her drink.

"Y/n, it's really ok, I'm not mad. I just want us to go back to how we use to be" She admits as she meets your gaze.

"Me too" You smile and rest your head on her shoulder as you watch your friends splashing each other in the waves.

⋆˚✿˖°

The first week was perfect. You spent your days at the beach and cooking out in the backyard of the cabin. Jesse and Ellie set up hammocks in the back, so you guys could star gaze and talk until the sun starts to rise. Things were going better than you imagined. Your relationship with Ellie was better than ever. You two did everyone together.

"Cats going to be here in a few minutes!" Ellie impatiently checks her phone waiting for Cat's arrival text.

You sit at the island finishing your breakfast. The windows were open, allowing the fresh air to calm you down. You've been dreading this since Ellie first brought up the fact that Cat was even visiting. The thought of Ellie spending all her time with Cat made you sick. You didn't want to lash out again so you kept your feelings to yourself.

A ding from Ellie's phone interrupted your conversation followed by a loud knock at the door. "She's here!" Ellie jumped from her seat and walked over to the front door.

Cat stood at the entrance with her bag. She was dressed in shorts and a tank top with an opened button down on top. You took in the image of Ellie's face lighting up as she looked Cat up and down. You watched as she pulled her into a tight hug. Ellie leaded her into the kitchen with everyone else.

"Hi guys! Thanks for letting me stay for a few days" She smiles and then looks at you.

You return the smile but its obvious you're annoyed. Cat takes the hint and turns back too Ellie. They walk upstairs so she could put up her bags.

Dina looks over at you with a frown. "You ok y/n?"

"Yeah... why?" You look at her with a confused and saddened expression.

Dina caught on to your feelings for Ellie a long time ago. You've never admitted to them because honestly you never thought of Ellie in that way. At least not until recently. It's all been so confusing.

"She's only going to be here for five days, it'll go by fast" Dina tries to reassure you but it just makes things worse.

"I know, I think we'll have fun. And Ellie's happy" You try to convince your friends you're ok, and maybe you're trying to convince yourself too.

Ellie returns downstairs with Cats hand in hers. The sight makes you want to cry but you suck in your feelings and try to avoid them. You knew these next few days would be hard. Not only did you have to watch your best friend fall in love with someone else but you had to get rid of any feelings you have for her.

You didn't even know you liked her but it makes sense now. It's all coming together. Why did you feel this way? You've known Ellie all your life. Why are you just now realizing these feelings? The way she makes you feel when her fingers are running through your hair. The way she holds you close at night. The way she immediately drops everything when you need her.

Your thoughts shatter in your mind when you see Cats lips against Ellie's. You can't help but sit and stare. Ellie never told you they were official yet. Why didn't she tell you?

Your emotions took over and you left. You didn't know where you were going but your keys were in your hand and you were already half way to you car.

"Y/n!? Where are you going?" Ellie follows you as you walk out the door. Cat standing behind. She stands at the door frame as she watches you pull out of the drive way.

The air was much needed. You drove down the roads of the beach. tears building up in your eyes. You had hopes that this drive would distract you but the only thing on your mind was Ellie. Why did you let your feelings get the best of you again. She clearly doesn't like you. She has Cat.

You find yourself sitting in a cafe looking out at the beach. The thoughts Ellie holding you floods your mind. You hate yourself for feeling like this. What would she think if she knew about how you felt? Would this ruin everything between you two? Would your friendship be over for good?

You immediately snap out of your thoughts as you look down and notice a text from Ellie.

⋆˚✿˖°

a/n: Thank you for reading!! Im already working on the next chapter. I hope my writing gets stronger as I write more because I feel like this could be more detailed:( Please, please, pleaseeee give me feedback! I love hearing others opinions! Im excited to continue this story because honestly I have no idea where the plot is going to go yet. The next chapters should be longer as they come out. Im not expecting this to be too long but let me know what you guys want for the future chapters!<3

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— mon cœur s’ouvre à ta voix

SUMMARY : aka. part II of mattel. finally, in the privacy of your home, you find the willpower to make the afternoon all about dean (as you’d originally hoped) when he tries to distract you from your plans. 

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), 0.5 mL of angst, pure filth mostly, fluffy as well tho, edging, switches all around, body appreciation as subtext lmao, fingering, overstimulation, unprotected piv (I’m scared of germs, you should be too), rough sex, biting, scratching?, oral (m. receiving), begging, squirting, idk hot and sweaty and wet sex honestly cause why the heck not?! 

WORD COUNT : 5.0k

A/N :  the title is from a muse song. this fills the biting square for my @jacklesversebingo card. Inspired by Bullet for My Valentine’s Scream Aim Fire album. Also by the reel on instagram for “riding” tips 🤣

DEAN’S POV 

When you playfully made your way into the house, he allowed his previous insecurity to grip his heart so it clenched while his stomach sank unpleasantly. 

You seemed far too happy, excited even, for him to be ruining your mood. 

But all he could think of was this morning when he was rushing you to get dressed. When he got to the wardrobe, he froze as his mind instantly scanned through the shirts he knew you both had inside, either folded nearly in stacks or hanging on the sturdy metal bar inside. 

Truth was, part of him felt guilty and his stomach sank every time he saw some old shirts of his you’d stolen years back. He typically found it hot when you wore them, but sometimes the way they fit on you made him feel self conscious about his weight. Especially when he could tell when you wore his newer clothes because of how much bigger it fit on your body. 

You’ve never made any comments about his body or his weight or the amount of food he eats or the lack of activity he engages in now. But he knows. Sam teases him about it, he laughs wryly, but Sam doesn’t seem to notice that those comments make him uncomfortable. Sure, back then it didn’t matter what Sam said about the food he ate because he didn’t notice the change in his body. He was constantly hunting or going hungry for large periods of time when they were stuck far away from society and only relied on snacks to stave off their hunger…

He decided to slip on last night’s clothes, hoping to hide his body from himself, from you, from his brother. From anyone who knew him when he was fit and toned and hard… God… he should’ve listened when those chicks told him he had a “dad-bod”.

He had no idea why he couldn’t stop spiralling now. 

When he got to the entrance of the house, he shut the door behind him and locked it, taking a deep breath as his dick began to soften due to his sour mood. He found your ankle boots next to the entrance and quickly discarded his own shoes and placed them next to yours.

His mind went back to anything that would indicate that you had noticed or even hated his body. Even though he had nothing negative to think back to, he felt awful. Suddenly, he could feel every inch of extra skin and he squirmed uncomfortably. 

He saw your discarded dress in the hallway and he found that he couldn’t help smiling.

He could spend all his life wondering why or how you still found him attractive, but that would be a shameful amount of time wasted. You were so beautiful and you were right here ready for him, loving him in more ways and more intensely than he thought he deserved. 

So he decided to just appreciate that you liked, no, loved him at all and quickly washed his hands with soap in the bathroom before entering your shared bedroom where you were laying like a model on the bed. 

Your face was turned to the window, to the drawn curtains and the sunlight that glided over your smooth skin. Your arm was raised above your head, in the pillows, and your body was covered in the red lingerie set that had caught his attention at the sex shop. To see it on your body was driving him insane. 

He noticed the shaky expansion and deflation of your ribcage with each breath you took. Your knees were bent, feet flat on the bed, thighs pressed together tightly, and then you turned to face him. Your lashes fluttered and you smiled when you saw him standing there, dumbstruck and in awe.

You spoke his name like a siren and he moved to get closer to you, the tension your sensuality began filling the room aroused him. His heart was pounding excitedly in his chest, and while some of the blood flooded up to his face the way it always did, most of it ran down south. And your voice did nothing but intensify how horny and desperate he was starting to feel all over again.

He stood at the foot of the bed and smirked down at you and you parted your thighs just to watch him curiously from between your legs with your brow raised expectantly.

He lifted only one knee onto the bed and reached for your hip to drag you all the way down. Your laughter filled him with delight, but when he slid his hand down your side to get a good look at you with your hair haloed around your head on the sheets, your seductive gaze seized him and his heart nearly stopped from how fast it was beating. You bit your lip in anticipation and reached for his shirt, quietly urging him to remove it.

“Please,” you murmured. He pulled the t-shirt over his head and threw it to the side. Hoping to be ignored, he leaned over you, his warm breath fanned over your neck and he relished the quiet gasp you released before he even pressed his lips softly to your pulse.

Your hands instantly threaded through his hair and he let you guide him off your skin, where he could feel the heavy thud of your heartbeat. You whispered his name against his lips like a prayer and he closed the distance between the two of you like a merciful god responding to your silent plea with tenderness. 

You were quick to bite his lips when he refused to give you anything more than an innocent kiss. He smirked against your mouth, inhaling sharply at your enthusiasm. Your tongue pushed past the playfully-stubborn lock of his lips and the sound you made once you tasted him made his cock twitch inside his sweat pants.

You became more impatient, he could barely catch up with you. His mind was dazed from your kiss alone, but your hands made a mess in his hair, tugging with desperation, eliciting deep moans from him. Your hips rolled upwards, your hands released their tight grip on his hair so you could dig your fingernails into his bare shoulders, needing—more than anything—to find friction. He groaned into your mouth and moved away panting, his lips swollen and tingling from your greedy mouth.

He took your hands far gentler than you’d handled him and pinned them above your head, his hand easily locked around your wrists and you bit your lip. You leered up at him when he placed himself closer between your legs.

“Is there something you need, sweetheart?” He teased, placing his hand flat on your stomach, nearly covering the entirety of the surface.

“Dean,” you whined, laughing breathily, “don’t do this.” He frowned dramatically at your refusal—playfulness guiding his actions—and tested your resolve by pressing his thumb against your clit over the wet lace of your new underwear. Your instant gasp at the softest touch thrilled him.

“Already so wet for me,” he murmured, a furious heat rushing up his face.

“Yeah, you didn’t feel that in the car?” 

He leaned over you again, nipped at your breast above the cup of your lace bra in retaliation, and slowly began to pull your underwear down your legs. He felt your hands twist in his grasp when he brought his lips around your nipple over the scratchy lace, you squirmed beneath him, impatiently attempting to kick your underwear off with his help.

“Need you so bad,” you whispered without being prompted to say anything. He smiled against your chest and threw your underwear away from your body with a snap of his wrist. 

“Oh, baby, I know,” he whispered empathetically, his eyes deeply gazing into yours as he slid his hand up the front of your body to pull down the cups of your bra so your breasts spilled out. 

He knew you saw that he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted instantly. Your knees pressed into his sides, your back arched when he breathed against your hardened nipple, and you struggled against his grip on your hands. You never asked him to stop, you only begged for more, so he wrapped his lips around your nipple and played with the other until you were moaning wantonly and begging shamelessly for him to fuck you.

“Please, tell me… you’ll let me cum,” you gasped, watching him intently as he detached his puffy lips from your now-slick and sensitive nipples. 

“Of course,” he murmured and pushed a finger inside you. You gasped, his lips touched yours, and he began curling his finger inside you, relishing in the feeling of it slipping into you without resistance.

He could feel the spread of your legs, the impatient wiggle of your hips, the pulse of your core around his fingers whenever he brushed over your g-spot. His cock ached as you panted and murmured his name in a quiet plea, your breathlessness made his stomach clench and he was enthralled by the sight of you, flushed and needy—all for him. 

He released your wrists to palm himself over his sweatpants, groaning and grateful that there was nothing underneath stopping him from feeling some pleasure as he admired you. He just couldn’t help himself with your shameless responsiveness. Your hands flew to his wrist and he looked down to watch your frantic grip near where his glistening finger was emerging from your warmth. You were something else entirely today. He closed his eyes momentarily, revelling in the image of you that remained behind his lids as he rubbed at his cock, and added a second finger inside you to scissor you open carefully when his eyes fluttered open once more.

He regarded you as you panted, your lips parted and your eyes closed. He bit his lip, parted your folds and flicked your slippery clit with his thumb watching your body arch and your hips buck. 

"That's it, you’re such a good girl," he praised, his voice husky.

His eyes flickered up to your face, but you were already watching him with your brows drawn together in concentration and your lips parted to release every tender moan that he pulled out of you. His heart lurched at your flushed state and you bit your lip hard, struggling to catch your breath. Your wide eyes swallowed him whole and then they fluttered shut for a moment; he knew what was coming.

Your walls spasmed around his fingers and your body shook when your orgasm finally vibrated through you. “Dean… fuck-fuck-fuck… fuck,” you implored, somehow becoming more wet around his fingers. Your hands moved up to his forearm, your fingertips traced the way his muscles flexed as he brushed against your g-spot repetitively, and you shuddered as you kept his unmoving fingers inside you after the most intense part of your orgasm passed.

“Fuck… so needy today,” he said with hushed astonishment. He looked between your legs with a lewd curiosity to watch your pussy flutter around his fingers. He chewed on his lip and experimentally continued to slowly rub at your clit until it became too much for you. Your pussy clamped down tightly around him and you started to guide his wrist away from you so his fingers slipped out, too.

While you caught your breath, he played with your sticky release and sucked his two fingers clean of the drying slick. Your tired eyes landed on him and you still smiled, maybe he could call your huff a laugh with the way your shoulders shook. 

“Do you want me to fuck you, too, now?” He uttered quietly, mostly to tease you. Still, as he waited for you to answer, he pulled down his grey sweats and stepped out of them swiftly. He moved back between your legs before he could miss a single second of your blissful glow and waited with a patient smile as you ogled him as shamelessly as he was doing to you.

"Please, Dean," you moaned, arms thrown up with your hair to grab the sheets hard. He smirked at you and you lifted your hips invitingly, causing his cock to twitch against your thigh. He cussed impatiently as he grabbed your hip over the red garter belt and teased your swollen clit with his cock, mostly enjoying the way your slick felt along the length of him. “Please… fuck me already. I need it, Dean,” you whimpered impatiently, pressing your ankles against the back of his thighs so he could give you what you wanted.

He considered continuing the torture, but decided against it, pleased by the desperation contorting your beautiful features the longer he played with you. 

"Okay,” he hummed and slammed his cock into you, his fingers digging into your hips on both sides now. Your gasp made his head light, his cock throbbed inside you, and he pulled out slowly to feel every inch of you before shoving himself back in with a satisfied groan. Your pussy pulsed to adjust to him, but you were still slick inside from your orgasm, and every thrust felt deliciously smooth. 

He watched you grip the sheets in tighter fists to brace yourself against the ruthless snap of his hips. His eyes trailed down, noticing the faster rise and fall of your chest as your lascivious eyes drifted lower, slowly moving down his chest and his stomach, and finally down to where his cock was ramming inside of you. His fingers pressed deeper into your hips, moulding your flesh like clay, struggling to keep his orgasm at bay.

He brought one of his hands away from your hip, reaching over to your sensitive clit, and stroked around it lazily—hoping to bring you to the edge of your second orgasm. When your body spasmed and you whimpered a plea, he knew he could get you there again. 

“Please,” you gasped, pulling hard at the sheets.

“Anything for you," he promised breathily, continuing to fuck into you as he circled your clit faster. Each snap of his hips made you moan, and you squirmed restlessly—sensitive and overstimulated from his touch, but somehow needing more. 

He leaned over you to kiss you deeply and you gripped his arms instinctively after releasing the sheets as he caged you in with his arms and swallowed your sounds with his fierce kiss. Your nails dug into the taut flesh of his arms and his stomach flipped at your desperate attempts to restrain yourself. He smirked against your mouth, his thrusts became slow and shallow. You kissed him back firmly, breathing unevenly against his lips when he parted to breathe, meeting his thrusts as best as you could, uselessly trying to gain control.

He buried his face near the crook of your neck, breathing heavily and moaning softly in your ear. He groaned your name at the instantaneous clench of your walls at his closeness. You sighed his name, hands flexing on his arm before your nails bit back down on his flesh again, sending electric pleasure through his body. Dean bit down hard on your shoulder, muffling his heated groans against your soft flesh. You moaned in surprise and your pussy squeezed around his cock again. 

"Gonna come again, sweetheart?" He teased, licking at the bite mark and began rubbing relentlessly at your clit. He heard the hitch in your breath and moved his mouth further over your shoulder to bite down on you again. 

He loved your reaction to it.

“Wait!” You begged suddenly, comically—as if you’d just remembered you left the stove on. Your hand locked around his wrist to stop him from stimulating your clit. Your legs came loose from his waist. Sudden concern possessed him to pull out of your wet heat with a whimper that made him turn scarlet red, but a warning tingle flared up his spine at the loss of your body’s heat. 

He felt deceived by the grin on your face, but you began to climb up the bed with a devious glint in your eyes that made him grin as playfully as you were. 

"Sweetheart, please, let me fuck you," he laughed breathily, crawling up the bed after you. You chuckled and threw the pillows out of the way.

"Who’s needy now?" you taunted, grabbing his shoulders to make him take your spot on the bed before he could settle between your legs again. 

He lifted a brow, unaware of your intentions, and huffed indifferently—defiant, but he still obeyed and sat against the headboard. You circled your arms around his neck after climbing into his lap to give him a kiss while his hands played thoughtlessly with the lace of the garter belt on your hips. 

You weaved your fingers through his hair, sending shivers along his body, and tugged gently at the strands in your grasp to part from his mouth. He bit his lip, watching you through heavy eyes clouded with lust. Your playful smile made him smile reflexively, and then you disappeared to mouth kisses along his jawline and neck. His eyes fluttered shut and his head leaned back—gently hitting the wall—giving you more flushed skin to kiss. He moaned quietly as you licked and kissed at the vein carrying his pulse and your hips rolled forward instinctively at the sound.

Your mouth moved lower down his chest with hot and wet kisses that made his skin tingle with fervour to feel you closer. Your weight shifting off his lap made his eyes open slowly, and was greeted with the pretence of your innocent gaze before you wrapped your hand around the base of his dick. His heart skipped a beat, his cock jerked in your grasp, waiting in anticipation before you squeezed and slowly slid your hand up from the base to the tip. Your eyes flickered down just as a drop of precum leaked out of the tip.

Your satisfied hum flustered him, but he was used to it. Used to the way you licked your kiss-swollen lips at the mere sight of his leaking dick when you got your hands on him, readying him for your mouth or your pussy. To him it felt more like you wanted him at your mercy, throbbing red and hot before you finally gave him the mercy of pleasure and release.

“Shit,” he hissed, watching you pump his cock once, twice, and a third time, using every drop of his precum to languidly slide your hand along his length. “Please.” His hips rose from the bed and your response was a gentle laugh that made heat flare up his face. The pace of your hand remained infuriatingly slow and your tight grip drew thick droplets of precum so he almost felt as wet as you were. 

You had him just like you wanted, throbbing and red from your teasing hands, brushing the pads of your fingers to massage every sensitive area you could find on his dick. After uselessly begging for you to go faster, after pleading for release, you kissed your way down his soft stomach. He held his breath, watching intently as your mouth drew nearer to his cock. 

He squirmed when you breathed against him, your lips curved to a smirk, but his mouth was open, panting heavily and waiting hopelessly for the touch of your lips against his length. 

“Hot,” you whispered against his dick, and slowly, delicately licked the leaking tip with your hand wrapped loosely at the base. He sighed breathily and grunted shortly after you swirled your tongue around the tip to swipe away precum. Before he could form the words in his mind, your whole mouth engulfed his cock. 

You moved your head down and his hands found the soft strands of your hair, gripping tightly in surprise, then to guide the speed himself. Groans tumbled from his lips and he shoved away all his embarrassment when your humming vibrated through his cock and made him whimper. You swallowed, your throat tightened around him and he hissed a curse, pushing your head down and pulling your hair up faster. 

He dared to look down at you, through the haze of lust, the sight of you in tears with your reddened cheeks, and redder lips made his cock throb in your mouth. 

“Holy fuck,” he moaned, pulling you up by your hair to let his cock fall from your mouth. A string of saliva and precum connected your mouth to the tip as you sniffled and blinked away tears. “I need you. Get up here, sweetheart,” he begged hoarsely, unravelling his fingers from your hair to guide you up with his hand on your jaw. 

You licked your lips, released your firm grip on his dick, and allowed him to wipe your tears away as you moved back up his body with your knees on either side of his waist. 

He eagerly pulled you in for a kiss, his enthusiasm seeping through the passion of his kiss. He momentarily allowed himself to get lost, to gratefully lick the taste of himself from your mouth, and let his hands wander to pull the cups of your bra back down. Your tits spilled out of the lace and he thoroughly pinched and plucked at your nipples until he felt you take hold of his cock again and stroked him a few times. 

He drew back from the kiss breathlessly, watched you line his dick up with your pussy before carefully sinking down on him completely. His eyes fluttered shut, his hands fell to your waist, and a growly sound rumbled through his chest. 

“Mmm, fuck,” you moaned against his lips, trailing your hands from his wrists to forearms. Your forehead dropped to his gingerly as you raised yourself up so just the tip remained inside you, then slid back down gradually. His grip on your waist became stronger when you broke away from him to enjoy the sensation of having him inside you. “Ah, fuck…” you murmured, grinding down on him to push his cock as far as it could go into you. 

He choked on a moan, on the breath that was cut off by the feeling of you rolling your hips down on him leisurely. He squirmed beneath you, watching you get lost in the torturous pace you found pleasure in. Your head lolled back and your hair gracefully followed the movement shortly after. Susurrations of his name bled from between your lips. Your hands were secured tightly on his arms, pulling him closer to you. 

Pleasure rippled through him. 

He leaned forward to suck marks and press open-mouthed kisses over your breasts. Your hands abandoned his arms to bury your fingers in his hair instead, arching your back to push your chest closer to his mouth. You shuddered as his breath cooled your fiery skin and tugged at his hair, undulating your hips against his. 

He moved his mouth up your chest to bite at your neck. His teeth sank gently into your tender flesh, grazing along the thudding vein, and his tongue tasted the salty tang of your sweat. Your pussy squeezed around him in delight and he moaned against your throat, exasperatedly digging his fingers into your waist. 

"Please… move," he whispered gravelly, trying to take control of the way you moved by sliding his palms down to your hips and holding on tight.

“I am,” came your breathy response. The amusement in your voice made him whine. 

“N… not like that.” His voice was rough and you bit your lip at his frustration. 

Straight away, you finally lifted yourself up his cock, unhurriedly making him feel every bit of the heat and wetness that coated him. You dropped back down at the same frustratingly slow speed. His eyes fluttered shut, his brows pinched together, and he licked his lips before biting down on it. Again, you rose from his lap and steadily sat back down. Your breath tickled his jaw, “like that?” 

Your voice made his stomach flutter.

“Faster,” he begged, his throaty voice revealing his impatience with your drawn-out riding. You nipped at his jaw and only barely picked up the pace. His eyes fluttered open when you cupped his red cheeks, staring at his contorted face. “Please,” he mumbled, pressing his fingers into your hips. 

You laughed breathlessly and dipped down to kiss him, but he knew that was you denying him. Your teeth sank into his lip and he growled at you, throbbing and achingly close to finishing. If only you’d speed up, he could finally get there. 

You sucked at his lip before pushing your tongue into his hot mouth, inhaling each other’s breaths. His head felt light again and his stomach tightened, brimming with bliss, but you ignored his sobbing pleas by silencing them with your tongue, and continued to languidly ride his cock. 

But he’d had enough. 

He flattened his feet on the bed and snapped his hips upwards before you could even process or halt what he was doing. You cried out in surprise and uselessly attempted to hold onto his shoulders as he ruthlessly shoved his dick upwards into your pussy. He slammed you down with his bruising grip on your hips, moving you down on him faster, and obscene sounds began to burst from his lips. 

You inhaled sharply, clasping onto his broad shoulders to no avail until you defeatedly collapsed on him so he could have complete control of the rhythm. He still had enough awareness outside his pleasure to grin to himself as you moaned and gasped his name into his ear. You clamped down around his dick and began to meet his thrusts as he’d been doing for you. 

"You fuckin’ tease," he panted each word between heavy breaths, whenever your hips met his. Even nestled into you as deep as he could be, he yearned to be closer to you, so he tangled his fingers in your hair and crashed your lips down with his, sure—now—that you wouldn’t change the pace he’d set. Your teeth clashed with his, but he couldn’t care less as his cock pulsed inside you, overflowing with pleasure. "I'm so fuckin’ close, baby," he gasped gruffly into your mouth.  

“Please… come, Dean,” you breathed out your plea and he released a low moan, your words making something warm bloom in his chest. Heat trickled down his body and he couldn’t stop the bubbling of his orgasm, especially not with you kissing him so intensely. 

 "Shit- oh, fuck-" he gasped against your lips. You moaned pridefully when he stilled, his entire body tense beneath you, and he held his breath for a short second before he came inside you whispering expletives and your name. You trembled above him shortly after he’d spilled himself into you and he hooked his blunt nails into your hips so harshly he imagined he might break your skin and draw blood. 

He pressed his forehead against your shoulder and loosed his grip on your hips when you finally stopped riding him after you came for a second time, but still sat on his softening dick after pulling every last drop from his throbbing cock. 

READER’S POV

“I love you,” Dean breathed against your mouth, gently brushing his thumbs over the raw flesh of your hips. 

“Mmm, I love you, too,” you promised quietly, carefully lifting your tender pussy from his dick. Dean hissed softly as your pussy fluttered over him and then he melted into the bed, slowly allowing himself to relax after you’d edged him for… well, who actually knows how long?

"What’s with you today, sweetheart?” He asked, his voice still pleasantly husky. 

You tried not to think about it as you sat by his knees, but your cunt still longed for him. “What do you mean?”

He opened his eyes and gave you a look. He looked so fucked out and it made you unreasonably arrogant. Your eyes flickered from his dishevelled hair, his red cheeks, swollen lips, and scratched torso. You blushed and shrugged after stealing a glance at his soft cock coated in your cum and his own. 

You could act nonchalant all you wanted, but your pussy clenched around nothing just at the sight of him. You could feel his release dripping out of you and you rubbed your thighs together. He was still watching you, but you didn’t care what he was able to see. 

“Please, come back here,” he mumbled lazily. 

You moved to his side and rested your cheek on his shoulder. You had a few moments of peace before his hand ghosted above your thigh and sneaked between your legs. You sat up straight and lifted a brow at him.

Dean smirked and rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, you’re telling me you don’t want more?”

You grabbed his face after staring at him with narrowed eyes and kissed him roughly to shut him up, but he turned to face you and kissed you back just as fiercely. He pushed against your body so you laid on the bed once more and his hand found your slick cunt again.

This time, three fingers pushed into you and he used his other hand to rub furiously at your clit. You whimpered against his mouth, overstimulated, and he pulled away panting. “Come on, baby, give me another one. I know you want it.”

“Fuck,” you sobbed, your body trembling in protest. 

He was right, you could still feel the faint embers of your arousal and he was reigniting them faster than you were able to make your body process. Somehow your orgasm was building up for a third time, feeling less intense but completely fulfilling.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured and before you knew what was happening, you squirted around his fingers and onto the sheets. Dean chuckled and drew out your orgasm as long as you could bear by still stroking on your clit after pulling his fingers out of you.

You could finally say you felt so much more relief, but you were half embarrassed by the gush of your orgasm. Dean was more than pleased by it. He licked his fingers clean of your release and then lowered his mouth down to your pussy with a moan to lick you thoroughly before kissing his way back up your body.

That mouth of his glistened and captivated your attention as he licked them. He pecked your lips and mumbled against your mouth, “I’m so glad I married you.”

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[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

hiii i saw your yandere marc and steven post and was wondering if you can write a smut based on that request (it's alright if it's just a short one!). I love the way you write <3

Hi Anony!! <3

Ooo, nice idea you got there 👀

I will do this for both again :)

Based on this post: -> [X]

Yandere Steven and Marc dealing with a bratty reader

Tags: Brat taming, failed escape attempt, fingering, p in v, smut, possessive (and obsessive) behavior, yandere themes(?), soft dom Steven.

Pairing

Yandere Steven Grant x fem!reader

Yandere Marc Spector x fem!reader

Steven

It has been a while since Steven kidnapped you, and although you had to admit he treated you like a queen, you wanted to go back to your own home, your house, go back to your daily life you got so used by. One evening, Steven went out to get some supplies but he locked the front door from the outside and the window to access the fire escape. Calling the police came up in your mind but it would only end in a shit show. But now you had to make a run, Steven wouldn't take too long to come back, so you started searching for anything that could get the front door unlocked. You knew your fair share of lockpicking by gaming and watching movies, but what's missing were the necessary items, a paper clip and bobby pin would do the trick but you doupted Steven had bobby pins. But he should have some paper clips laying around.

You went to his study corner, opening the drawers until you found some, showed a handful into your pocket before fiddling two in a position to unlock. Steven would arrive soon, you had to be quick. You inserted the two clips into the lock, twisting and turning them until you heard a click.

Click

You opened the door, peeking out and debating if you should just knock on some of his neighbors to help you. But you knew they wouldn't believe you, so you made your way to the elevator, but in the distance you already saw the maintenance sign on it. You went for the stairs, and as you arrived at the first floor, you could see the big main doors leading out. You held your breath calm, only a few more steps.

Before you could even touch the handle, the doors opened, and Steven entered. You two froze as you saw eachother, Steven's eyes widened "Wh-what are you doing here?" He asked in disbelieve.

You swallowed the spark of hope down your throat, you knew you would be in trouble now.

"How did you even unlock the door?" Steven asked, now walking towards you and grabbing your arm firmly. He didn't even wait for your answer, dragging you back up the staircase back to his flat, "We will have a nice, friendly talk when we get back."

Once back in his flat, Steven shoved you inside, carelessly closing the door and dropping his bag with the supplies on the floor.

"Love, why did you try to leave?" Steven's voice was more dark as you turned to look at him.

"I wanted to go back to my home, back to my life before you freaking kidnapped me!" You raised your voice.

"You want to go back to your boring old life? Where nobody loves you?! Please, I am the one taking care of you, showing you love, giving you everything you want!" He wagged his finger at you.

"Steven. Listen. You don't have to take care of me, I can take care of myself." You sighed, glancing on the ground.

Steven didn't took it lightly, "You're able to take care of yourself? Fine, show me how you can take care of yourself, prove it to me." He stepped closer to you, "But you know what?" Steven pushed you backwards onto the bed, "I think you're just a brat. A disobedient little brat, who doesn't appreciate others doing things for you."

You tried getting up but Steven kneeled on the bed, holding you in place by your shoulder "What are you doing?"

"Taking care of you." Steven simply replied before his other hand slowly trailed up your leg until it was between your legs.

Steven didn't waste a second, pulling your pants down, off your legs and tossed them on the floor.

"I'm sorry, Stevy." You pleaded.

Steven just smiled "Too late for being sorry, love."

His hand rubbed your clit through the fabric of your panties in slow circles. You gasped, trying to resist but your body easily betrayed you, you felt yourself getting more wet with each circle, a soft moan escaping your lips making Steven hum "There, doesn't it feel good getting taken care of, hm?" He increased the pace, you bit your lower lip to stiffle the moan.

Steven noticed "Aww, does it feel so good you have to make loud noises?" He peeled your now wet panties off and continued rubbing your clit "Look at that, I'm pretty sure any man who'd see you would drool all over themselves..." He teased, his fingers moving to your leaking hole, entering you easily by how wet you were.

"St-Stevenn.." You whined as two of his fingers began stretching you.

Steven smirked "Need somethin' love?" He knew you were high on pleasure, he knew you'd ask him to keep going.

"Your fingers feel soo good.." You moaned, arching your hips.

"Look at your disobedient cunt swallowing my fingers. Bet it feels great, yeah?" He increased the thrusting, not minding your juices staining his fingers.

"I'm sorry for leaving, Stevy..." You begged suddenly, letting out a needy moan.

"It's alright, love. You just needed me to show you your place, right?" He grinned, his fingers hit your sweet spot, making your eyes lull back into your skull, your pussy now squeezing his fingers as you felt the pleasure build up.

"S-Steven, I'm close!" You warned, arching more into him.

"Then let me finish it. Your tight cunt's gonna coat my fingers, hm?" Steven said, his fingers hitting hard and deep. When your orgasm rippled through you, Steven kept moving his fingers for a bit longer before pulling them out.

"That's it love, you did very good, I'm proud of you." He praised, watching you catch your breath. Steven got up, headed to the kitchen and came back with some water, handing it to you and sat back down beside you on the bed, brushing some stray hair out of the way and the sweat from your forehead.

"We understand eachother from now on, yeah?" Steven ordered softly.

When you nodded, he leaned in and pressed a kiss on top of your head, "I hope so for you because if you try to run again, the restraints will be back on you." He gave you a firm look before pulling back

"Now get some sleep, I'm sure you must be tired."

-

Marc

You've already spent a few days in Marc's home, he meant everything he said, he gave you attention, got anything you asked and he even made you feel safe. But still, the knowledge that he kidnapped you was still there, it didn't feel right. Once you even asked him to go to your house but he refused, telling you it's not safe. Tonight you decided to take matters into your own hands, you were waiting until Marc had fallen asleep, you knew trying the door would only get you in trouble since he would have it locked and who knew if there wouldn't be any security cameras pointed there, so you tried the window in your room.

Thankfully the height of the house wasn't too high, jumping down would maybe hurt a bit but it wouldn't kill you. You climbed on the window, took a breath before finally jumping down, landing on pavement with your feet, wincing from the impact.

Heck, you didn't even know where you are...

You could hear the distant sound of cars, some dogs barking in the distance, and see the lights of Skyscrapers in the distance. What you didn't know was, Marc just woke up to get some milk for his midnight refreshment. As he passed your room, he could hear the noises of the city more loudly, and the chill breeze coming from underneath the door, he just thought you might have opened the window for some fresh air, but he decided to glance inside anyways.

At opening the door, he expected you sleeping soundly in your bed like you always did, but instead he was met with an empty bed, and the window was wide open.

"Shieet!" He cursed under his breath, he put on his pants, went for the keys and headed out to find you.

Meanwhile you were heading into the direction wich you heard the traffic noises come from, but you doubted anyone would help you, it was already past midnight and people may think you'd probably be a weirdo.

Marc however picked up on how desperately you may want to get away from him, he isn't stupid, he's fucking smart when it came to that. He knew people tend to go to high populated places for help, and especially in a place like Chicago, he knew going alone at night, passing an alleyway might end in some robbery or even death. You wouldn't want to make the same mistake twice, would you?

Soon Marc spotted a person walking on the sideway, their steps were fast as if they wanted to get away. He didn't knew it was you yet.

You didn't knew Marc was in fact following you, you pulled out your phone, glancing at the time before you got interrupted by some loud noise nearby, causing you to flinch and look back, seeing someone following you, so you started running. Now Marc knew it was you, he ran after you "Hey!" He called out.

You took a sharp turn into a corner, but...it was a dead end. But you kept running, spotting an entrance and pushed yourself on the door, hoping that the spot would hide you.

Some heavy breathing could be heard near you, it was Marc. He took a moment to look around at the dead end, cursing under his breath again, "This cheeky little brat." he muttered, before walking away.

You waited a few more seconds before slowly making your way out of your hiding place, looking around the corner, taking a deep breath of relief, but before you could continue walking, someone snuck up behind you, grabbed your shoulders, dragged you back into the alleyway and pushed you against the wall.

"There you are little troublemaker." It was Marc's voice, you tried to get out of his grip but he was just too strong for you, holding you in place like you were just a twig.

"Marc, let me go, please!" You begged.

Marc snorted, "Definitely not. You're coming back with me. Gonna cooperate with me or not, sweetheart?"

"Okay, okay. I cooperate." You nodded.

Marc released you, dusting off your shoulders before he grabbed your arm firmly and led you back to his house, "You. You made a big mistake, honey." he growled.

Back at his house, he brought you back to your room, ushering you inside and closed the door behind him, leaning against it and crossed his arms "Any apologies? No? You just put yourself in danger."

"I wanted to go back home." you replied weakly.

"And you wanted to do it by being such a brat and made me chase you almost around whole Chicago?" Marc raised his eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry." You muttered.

Marc wasn't buying it "That's all? Sorry? For putting yourself in danger like that, hm? A little weak if you ask me."

"Well, what else do you want me to say then?" You asked.

Marc shrugged, "Maybe something that makes me believe you mean it. I saved your ass, I protected you! That's how you thank me? By acting like a fucking brat?"

You sighed, "You didn't want to let me go back, so I took matters into my own hands!"

"Listen, I'm sorry if I was being too rough with you, but you have to see that only I can protect you. I am also the only one who will love you, no matter what." Marc pushed himself off the door and walked over to you.

You sat on the bed, "I made a mistake, I'm sorry, Marc." You looked up at him with a sad expression.

Marc sighed, "Yeah you fucked up. And now it's my turn to make it right by putting the brat right back in their place where they belong." He crouched down, grabbed your feet and removed your shoes, "Now your pants." he tabbed your knee, signaling for you to do it.

"What?" You asked confused.

"Your pants. Get 'em off." He gave a warning glance.

You obeyed, fearing more punishment, pulling off your pants and tossing them to the side.

Marc straightened, "Good. Now your panties." He ordered.

Once your panties were out of the way and your core visible for him, he spread your legs apart and ran a finger through your folds "Already getting wet for me, aren't you?" Marc mused.

"Fuck.." You whimpered.

Marc chuckled at your reaction, "Gonna be good for me now, hm? Gonna repay me for chasing you around, honey?" it wasn't a question, he was demanding it.

"Y-yes.." You nodded.

Marc palmed himself before pulling his pants down, freeing himself and gave a few strokes "Keep 'em spread." he positioned himself at your entrance, nudging before entering slowly to make you get used to his size.

When he felt you getting comfy around him, he started to thrust at a slow pace "What were you saying? Nobody loves you? I already proved my love for you, and now my cock loves your good little pussy." he grunted while you moaned in response, the way his cock dragged along your walls made your head fall back.

"Look at that," Marc grinned "looks like your pussy loves getting split open by my cock, huh?" He pulled out, leaving only the tip inside before burying his whole girth inside you.

You almost came on spot, he felt that too and the way you were already a mess beneath him, "Already cockdrunk? See how I can make you feel? Silly little thing." Marc chuckled, thustting harder into you.

"M-Marc..." You arched your back, desperate for more.

"Got you, babe." He pounted into you, increasing the pace, chasing his building orgasm.

-

"I-I'm about to-..." Before you could end the sentance, it was already too late, your pussy already squeezed the life out of Marc's cock.

"God, honey. You have a fuckin' death grip!" His hips moved erratically, and a second later, his eyes rolled back as he filled you up.

Both of you held still as you came down from the orgasms, Marc then pulled out, "Let's take a shower, we definitely need one. But if you act up like a brat ever again, try to leave, I'll make sure you'll have trouble walking, understood?" He asked.

You could only nod in response.

Marc smiled "That's my good girl."

[writingmysanity]

Missed it

happy birthday my friend! I hope you enjoy this, and that I did your man some justice!! @sordidmusings

Pairing: Buggy x reader

TW: none, buggy is an idiot. We love him anyway.

A/N: This is my first time writing the fool of a clown, so I am sorry if he isn't quite himself. Growing pains and all. You understand. Thank you @fanaticsnail for reading this over for me. You're an angel.

“You’re sure?” you do little to hide the hope in your voice. Buggy doesn't try to hide the smile that twitches at his lips, a small soft thing that has only ever been just for you. 

“I am sure, Doll,” he hums. “Your day is your day – you will be the star of the show.”

“I just want it to be you and me,” you admit quietly. A small thing – quiet, personal, private. He nods. 

“You and me.” 

=====

The rise and fall of voices lulls into a single sound, clashing cheers mixes with the distant shatter just beyond the line of sight. Each of them nearly shouting over the others with various overly indulged tales of their plunders earlier in the day. Sighing, you down the rest of your drink, shaking your head when yet another one of your crew mates offers to refill your mug. 

“I think i'll call it a night,” you mumble when Cabaji tries in vain to refill it anyway. He looks at you oddly. You have never been one to turn down a celebration. Yet, he doesn't stop you as you start to walk away. He misses the way your eyes flicker to the familiar mop of blue hair as his laughter rings out above the rest, calling for another round of drinks. 

You should have expected this, he is always the life of the party. It doesn't stop the sting. 

Just one day, you sigh, biting back your bitterness as you flop back against your bed. Am I not worth him remembering just one day? 

It isn't as if he doesn't care, you know he does. He just tends to be forgetful, too wrapped up in the limelight to keep dates at the forefront of his mind most times. Another island, another haul, another celebration. Another day. 

Head lulling to the side, you spot the cupcakes you had made last night. Just two, one for each of you. The time you spent calculating and recalculating the recipe to make just the two tiny cakes took you much longer than you are willing to admit. 

It took so much longer than if you had just made the original, normal amount in the first place. But you wanted to be selfish, you didn't want to share. Not your cake, your birthday or your man. 

The flashy fool you grouch to yourself as you roll out of bed. 

You refuse to let your day waste away because he forgot it. 

Settling in at the small table, you reach for the pack of matches you left off to the side this morning. Shaking it, you huff at the weight. You'll need more soon. There is only one left. Shrugging it off, you light it, watching the fire flicker for a moment before leaning it towards the candle.

“Happy birthday to me,” you sing weakly, choking back the disappointment as you close your eyes. Huffing, you rub at your thighs, feeling silly. You're much too old for childish wants and wishes. Nothing will come of it. 

And yet, you make a wish. 

The whispered request settles into the silence of the room, almost drowned out by the distant celebration. By his laughter. 

You can't help the way the wave of emotion hits you at the sound. Your hand lifts to cover your mouth, to muffle the sob that wretches from your chest. Curling in on yourself, you rest your head to the table, letting the tears fall. Laying there, you watch the candle flicker, shuddering from the force of your hiccuped cries, the flames blurring slightly from the tears as you sit up again. 

Taking a deep breath, you whisper your wish again before leaning forward to blow out the candle. You sit there in silence, letting his laughter ring out around you for a while longer before you pull yourself to the bed. Tomorrow will be better. You can forgive him tomorrow. 

Hell remember, right?

=========

The night is nearly over, the dull tug of dawn lightening the shadows from the sky, when Buggy finds himself stumbling back into your shared room. No matter how hard he tries, the drunken tilt of his steps thunder against the floors. Somehow, the sounds do not rouse you. 

Pausing for a moment, he stops to stare, watching the way your chest rises and falls in your sleep. He lets himself smile, leaning heavily against the wall as he takes you in. The moment doesn't last, the thick smell of something sweet hitting his nose. The scent rams against his senses, making his head swim and his vision cloud slightly, making him nauseous. Looking around, he frowns. 

Where is that coming from? 

His eyes glaze over the room, becoming increasingly agitated when he can't find the source, until his eyes fall to the table beside him. He freezes as his eyes fall on the two delicately decorated cupcakes resting there. His gaze flickers between the cakes and the bed, swallowing hard. 

That's tomorrow… right?

He eyes the burnt out match beside the cake with a candle in despair, feeling the overwhelming urge to cry. 

Fuck.

==========

Shifting in bed, you wince at the distant clatter followed by a curse. Buggy’s voice echoes harshly against the thin, wooden walls. Sighing, you sit up, half convinced that you had only fallen asleep for a few hours. Blinking slowly, you stare – the gentle wash of orange and red lingering on the panels of the window seat just on the other side of the bed, golden rays lighting the rest of the room. 

It's only then that you realize that there is no sound, none other than Buggy. 

Without thought, you’re to your feet and out the door when there is a slam followed by muffled curses. You wince at the distant chill of the wood against your bare feet, finding yourself leaning into the kitchen. Brows furrowed, you watch him as he rummages around. 

Ingredients are tossed about like he does with loot when he is looking for something specific, a total disregard to anything but what is currently plaguing his mind. He is unharmed, from what you can see, so you stay there watching, resisting the urge to yell at him for last night. When his head pops up again, you see it in his eyes. 

Panic. 

Frowning, you almost speak up, until you hear the words spilling from his lips. 

“You damn fool” he grouches to himself, picking up and moving things from one place to another. He is pacing around the kitchen, eyes wide as they flicker over everything around him. “You forgot you forgot you forgot.” He chastises himself over and over. 

It is only then that you tear your eyes from his fumbling form, blinking in surprise. There are balloons, the plastic spheres littering the ceiling, bobbling along as he rushes by. The kitchen is completely decorated, your favorite color splashed along every surface haphazardly. You can't help but eye the various bags cluttering the table top – each decorated to peak bedazzlement, bright and shiny papers glinting back in the early morning sun. 

“Why does it look like that?” He mourns out loud. Your eyes snap back to him, finding him with his head in his hands standing before what you assume is supposed to be a cake. The cake itself is crumbly, falling apart. He had tried to plaster it back together with frosting, but it seems that that had only made the cracks more obvious. Again, it looks as if he had tried to hide it, large clumps of icing half smeared around it, all of it melting before he is able to spread it properly. 

Pausing to take him in again, you soften. He is a mess, and not in his usual over dramatic way. His hair is tied back in a rush, half of it falling from the band he had used to pin it back. His brilliant red nose is nearly white, smeared with flour and icing. His clothes are covered in it, splotches of white, blue and green. 

“You iced it too early,” you answered him, your voice still heavy with sleep. “And from the looks of it, you took the cake out of the pan before it had cooled.” he jumps, his head literally twisting from his body as he jerks, eyes wide as it plops back onto his neck. 

“You’re awake,” he breathes as he fumbles to stand before you, trying in vain to smooth out his clothes. “I, uh…” you frown, the anger bubbling up again, seeing him avoid your eyes and the silence seems to linger more. Just as you're about to open your mouth, he begins again. 

“Please, just.. Let me…” he swallows, taking a breath. “I'm sorry.” he begins again, wringing his hands. “I was a fool, I let myself get so wrapped up in the celebrations that I forgot our – your – celebration.” he whispers out, wincing. “You deserve so much more, and I understand if you hate me–” 

“I don't hate you,” you cut him off sharply, eyes narrowing at him. “I am mad at you,” you correct him. “Those things are mutually exclusive, Buggy. I am allowed to be upset with you, it doesnt change the fact that I love you.” he nods his head so quickly that you are sure it will come bobbing off again, his eyes wide and pleading. 

Sighing heavily, you shake your head while rubbing at your eyes. You kick yourself for finding that you have already forgiven him, that you had forgiven him well before this. Fortunately, or unfortunately, you have yet to decide, you can't seem to stay angry with him for long. Especially after seeing what he's done to try and make it up to you. Smiling to yourself, you lift up to press a chaste kiss to his lips, a silent indication of your forgiveness. Automatically, his lips chase yours as you start to pull back, but he stops himself. 

“I truly meant to spend your day with you,” he says quietly, his tone almost begging you to believe him.  He looked around quickly, as if making sure that everything was still there. He wanted it to be perfect, and it had started out well, but things seemed to have quickly fallen apart as he started the cake. Literally. “I uh, I baked you a cake.” he motions to the baked goods, watching in despair as a large chunk slides from the side and down onto the plate with a distant thwap. 

“I… can't bake.” he admits, making you laugh. He relaxes some, lips twitching at the sound. 

“I know,” you agree, stepping towards the sad blob of icing. “Is it edible?” he shuffles over, staring at the offending item as if it had personally betrayed him. 

“I can't promise that.”

========

tags list because requested @short-honey-badger

[od4saku]

Itoshi Rin is beginning to think that he is only good at wasting time.

Another day has passed with little to no contact between the two of you. Fingers thrum against a desk, occupying the vacancy that was once filled by your things: a laptop with a star sticker in the corner, a shoddy mouse, a book you'd raved to him about just a week before. He hadn't listened then— he'd give anything to get a chance, now.

The empty space eats away at him. There are only fragments of you left, and he thinks that hurts the most. Not your absence, but the falsity of your presence. The pillow on your side of the bed is still indented from where you used to lay your head at night (from however long ago it was last used— Rin doesn't remember when you stopped sleeping over.) An empty vase sits on his bedside table. You used to buy flowers for it; a new selection every month, though your favorites were always carnations. A candle you left on the desk is sitting lonesome in the corner. The wick is burnt to a stub, curled like an ashen rib, contrasting the stark white of the jasmine-scented wax. The glass jar rises far higher than the wax. It's an old, well-loved possession, and the fragrance carries even without it being lit, and painfully, it reminds him of you.

It all does. Everything in this room, everything in this apartment. In this life, even. He smells jasmine in the wind, and he sees the flowers you used to bring home in boutiques and growing wild on the sides of streets. He sees your outline in every passing stranger. The curl of your smile shows itself to him in the curves of smoke that rise from his manager's cigarettes. Words swirl and spin, on pages and on phones, and he hears them all in your voice.

He is resentful. It's a vile thing, the feeling in his gut. His liver swells with hurt and grief. His stomach pulls and churns. His lungs are heavy with smoke, from breathing in every bit of your shadow he could find. Oh, but he is angry, angry more than anything. Angry at himself. Rin didn't have to miss you— this loneliness, the kind that clings to your skin like ash— he didn't have to feel it. A knot has been settled in his stomach since you left. He feels encased in wax, a thousand stone heavier and smothered by the smell of fragrant flower and something burning.

Rin cannot help the hatred he feels for himself, making its home in his heart. Nestled neatly into the left crater in his chest is a sordid bundle of feelings that burn like a forest met with a match. Smoldering deeper and deeper into his ribcage, it flickers with more life than he himself has possessed since you left. Because, truly, it was his fault you were gone, was it not? The confession to himself makes his body ache more, and vile builds up in his throat— he knows he's right. He knows it's him, him, him. The thief of his own joy. You. His light. He'd put out the candle.

Rin remembers how you met. In an unsavory bar, with dim yellow lighting and the uncomfortable presence of drunks with no boundaries, he caught your semi-smile from across the room. He was sober, watching his friends meander around like headless chickens, and he thinks you were in the same position. Laughter creased your cheeks, he observed even though he couldn't hear, as you laughed at something your rosy-cheeked friend said. He followed you with his eyes, watching your fingers curl around her shoulders, pulling her close. Affection, love. His mind wandered; he mulled how might it feel to be on the receiving end. And he blinked, and then you were looking at him. A deer in headlights, he'd tried to turn, but you were already on your way— and he'd already seen your smile. So brilliant, so blinding. He was already gone, just hadn't realized it. (A candle, lit. Glass jar full to the top. Fresh off the shelf— faintly smelling of jasmine.)

The way he loved you was something different. A hot, heavy love. It bruised and left marks, blossoms of black and blue on his pale neck and collarbone. A fire in his belly and stars in his eyes. He loved you like an alcoholic loves a bar, like a fisherman loves the moon. A savior, a salve, a saint. Oh, he loved you something violent. A gross dependency, an addiction to your warmth. He needed you to sink into his skin, to burn his flesh so he’d be scarred with your heat forever. He wanted to smell like your smoke, and jasmine. To feel his lungs ache with the burden of ashes. Like no other, he loved you. He loves you. He never stopped. He’d never stop. He’s never told you— doesn’t think he can— but he would never stop. The sun sets outside the window to his right, filtering through the half-drawn blinds. The rays of molten gold hit his arm and the edge of the desk he sits at, slumped. The wood glows with a cold, impersonal light. A little fragment reflects off the corner of the candle’s glass jar, sending a piece of light dancing against the wall behind Rin. He swears that even the sunlight itself is colder without you to be lit up by it.

Ironically, he shivers. The fog glazing Rin’s mind fades a little and he’s forced to consider the time— it’s not late, but it’s been days since he last slept. He has practice in the morning. A foul churning makes itself known in his gut— practice. Lately, it’s been all he’s done. It’s always been that way, truthfully, but with you he felt more free. When he had you, he could push it aside, just for a little. When your relationship had begun, he didn’t need to care about much else. But eventually, time waned on. The candle burned, and the wax dissipated into gas, and his profession returned to the forefront of his mind. It had never really left, only been sidelined for a short while. But when this priority had resurfaced, he’d pushed everything else aside for it. All his other necessities lay forgotten, like a grandmother’s antiques after her passing. Left to collect dust in an insensitive relative’s attic. He forgot about eating, and sleeping, and you. The things that really mattered, gone. Ambition was his downfall in the end. Now he had it— he was back on top of his field, back in the lead, in charge. But he had burned you out. All that was left of you were the scars— ones that he had savored at some point. Now, they were just a reminder of what he didn’t have.

You tried your hardest, he can see in hindsight. A warm, home cooked meal would often wait for him in his apartment when he returned late from practice. You offered him anything— a massage, space, warmth, a home. You gave him everything. And he took it. He was hot-wired and burning, electric. Too gone to appreciate you, too bothered to give you peace. To say thank you. To return the favor. And still, you gave him anything you could. The fragments of yourself— the candle, the flowers, the shape of you still indented into his bed— you shifted your life to try and change his. And he remained obstinate and stubborn, stuck in his ways. Leaving early, returning late. Gone before you woke and back after you’d already fallen asleep. It was because of this that Rin didn’t realize you had officially moved out until a week after you’d left, when you’d texted him telling him you’d come to get your things on some foggy Thursday afternoon. He didn’t even notice. That, he thinks, snapped him out of his stupor. His drive, his game, he blanched. Itoshi Rin feels conceited to say that his anger makes his mind a scary place, but it’s the truth. And he has unknowingly made you a victim. His self-loathing had only ever had one person to affect before— himself— he’d never considered it hurting you. He’d never considered that he’d be the reason you burned out.

Today was that foggy Thursday afternoon, and he doesn’t deserve to wait for you like he does. He doesn’t deserve to still love you, not with the same vehemence or passion. The air is heavy in the bedroom of what was once a shared apartment, like smoke lingered, even though no candle had been lit in the week you’d been gone. Silence weighs like a million tons. He blinks, and the desk is still empty, the vase is still barren, the light bouncing off the candle’s glass jar has only shifted a millimeter. No, he doesn’t deserve to care. He doesn’t deserve you. He didn’t choose you, he lost you. He didn’t deserve anything. The rotten bundle in the left side of his chest pulses like it’s pretending to be a heart. He aches something ugly. And Rin almost, almost thinks he’s imagining it when a hesitant knock sounds at the door. He’s not near the entrance— a room away, about— but it’s so deadly quiet in the apartment that the sound carries. He stands and moves, and the smell of jasmine smoke follows. Rin is on autopilot when he opens the door, and he’s even more gone when he sees you. You are even more beautiful than he remembers, he thinks, and he can’t breathe. You’re so pretty when you look at him, but there is mourning in your eyes. Your warmth is not that of a candle, a fireplace, a welcoming, homely heat– you are hot like a funeral pyre. You burn like it hurts. Smile lines hide from your face. The crease by your eyes when you smile isn’t there. Your eyes, in fact, are red. Streaky cheeks and lashes webbed together indicate that you were crying and the excuse of a heart in Rin’s chest goes up in smoke.

He looks at you for a while, eyes flitting across your face, Despite how much it hurts, he drinks in every detail— every pore, every crease, every lack thereof, every single thing. Because it’s been so, so long since he’s seen you— a week— and even longer since he’s really, really seen you. Your lips are chapped. Quickly, your tongue moves to wet them before you open your mouth to speak; he tries not to stare. “I’m here for my things.”

Silence permeates the tension in the air. Thick, thick smoke hangs like a veil, choking the words out of him. He stands in the doorway staring like a statue of a fool. He’s sure he looks pathetic, stupid, even. A frail excuse of a man, of a boyfriend. A person who did not deserve you. Who didn’t see you begging to be seen, to be prioritized, to be chosen. A failure. The knot in his stomach tightens. He can’t stop looking at you, observing the invisible scars he’s left, the pain he sees written in the bags beneath your eyes, the streaks on your face, the hurt he put you through. Every second makes him angrier at himself. If he wasn’t frozen in place, he’s sure his hand would curl into a first so tight that his bones would crack like twigs.

He wonders how long he’s been hurting you for. How long you’ve felt this, this invisible pain. Without saying thank you, without saying he loves you. How much damage has he done? Irreparable, horrible damage. How long has he been doing this for, without even realizing? He thinks back to a couple months ago— a sleepless night.

He can't tell what time it is, but there is no light outside the window and the sky is speckled with faint, distant stars. Silken curtains conceal the moon, if it's even out there. Quietly, Rin moves to sit upright against his pillow, careful as to not wake you. It's so strange, really, because you’re right next to him and that usually leads him to peaceful nights. But he suspects that your company might be the reason for his sudden insomnia tonight.

He tries to make out your figure in the darkness of the room. He can’t fully see you— all he can discern is a silhouette beneath a blanket, a mess of hair falling against the curves and slopes of your face and jaw, and a hand, outstretched. Like you were reaching for him.

Rin's been awake for hours, he suspects. going through the motions of closing his eyes and pretending to sleep isn’t doing anything for him anymore. Listening to your breathing grow soft and slow only served to fuel his racing mind, the myriad of thoughts that kept him awake. You’re on your side and he observes your outline inhale, then exhale. Steadily. Systematically. Soundly. You look so peaceful, like an angel of some kind. A pit grows in his stomach. A nauseating, gnawing feeling. The very same one that’s kept him up. A guilt, he thinks, that is eating him alive.

His vision adjusts to the dark, and it falls on your hand. Your palm, more specifically, which is face up. A small, raw burn scar marks the soft flesh in between your thumb and pointer finger; nothing too big. It almost looks more like a birthmark in this lack of lighting. He winces, a little, as you shift the tiniest bit and push your extended palm closer. His vision focuses even in the dark and he’s forced to take in the true nature of the wound— splotchy, and angry. Red and fresh and beginning to swell a little, and undoubtedly painful. And all of it, his doing.

Rin exhales. He did that to you. It’s his fault you got hurt.

Just a few hours ago, he’d returned home to your shared apartment to you starting dinner. And he’d stupidly bumped into you when moving to wash his hands at the sink, letting you slam into the hot pan with your hand. Only a second of contact was made, and he’d forced you to let him help you bandage and clean the small wound. But the damage was done. He’d hurt you. His hands, your hurt. He burned you.

His eyes travel up your hand, to your arm, to your chest and neck and jaw and then face, where he startles at your open eyes, only one visible from your positioning, shining even in the dark with a mirthful warmth that he’s still unsure of sometimes. “Is the view really that nice?”

His face grows warm at your words, and the rasp that exhaustion adds to your voice. Your playful cadence only serves to ignite his guilt further, like kindling. His jaw tightens and he sees your brows knit together as you read his body language. You shift and pull yourself up with your hands, wincing slightly. He thinks that you think he doesn’t notice.

“What’s wrong, Rin?”

He can’t find the words to express his guilt. How he hurt you. How he was scared that it was only the beginning. How he had so, so much pain, and how he was fated to lash out. How it was only a matter of time. But even he didn’t understand this at the time, so he just choked out a simple, “I burned you.”

You blink. He stares at your hand, unable to meet your eyes. A palm gently touches his shoulder, and then fingertips move down his clothed spine. Your touch is so warm as you pull yourself closer. “You didn’t mean it, babe.”

He just looks at you. Your hand makes its way to the side of his head, and you pull the taller man close, down into your chest. The heat is unbearably kind to him, and he feels himself relax into you even though he doesn’t deserve to. You sigh, and it echoes in his skull. He can hear the steady beat of your heart. Gentle hands massage his scalp.

The guilt surges up again, and he blurts out: “what if it happens again?”

You pause for a beat before continuing your movements. He thinks that you can tell it’s not just about the burn anymore. (Up, down, up, down, switch to the other side of his head.) “It won't.”

“But it might.”

And then you press a smiling kiss to his scalp, and he feels worse and better at the same time— “it’s okay. It’s worth it, if I'm with you. Burn me as much as you like, Rin. I can take it.”

He snaps back to reality when you slide past him, coming closer than you have in weeks. His mouth goes dry at the almost-contact. He watches you walk into the apartment, steps losing speed the further in you get— you’re slow, and deliberate with how you navigate. Like it’s a new environment. Something inside him shatters. Because it’s not new. It’s yours. It’s his and yours and you used to belong here, and now you’re picking out your things. He can’t do anything but watch as you riffle through various drawers in various rooms and pull out various items. He spots a phone charger, a dented metal water bottle, a notebook, a scarf. Things too sentimental to leave behind in a place you didn’t care for anymore, he guesses. Because of course you hate him now. It makes sense— he would, too. Rin feels grotesque. He is a dissonant note, he is the smell of burning plastic. And he just watches you as you prepare to walk out of his life forever, the one person he thinks he can say he loves without lying a little, because of course he is. Of course, because Itoshi Rin is so, too good at wasting time. So yes, he agrees, he would hate him too for what he did to you. For keeping you at arm’s length and expecting you to love him despite it all. He would. He does. (When did he stop feeling bad? When did he stop noticing? When, when, when?)

You walk into the bedroom, and he tails you at a distance. Standing in the doorway, he watches you take it in. The half-drawn shades paired with an almost-vanished sun cast gold lines onto you and the room is uncomfortably warm. You are bathed in gold. You are so, so beautiful. And your eyes fix onto the nearly burned out jasmine-scented candle. Something in your expression shifts. Rin says nothing about the flicker in your eyes. You open the desk drawer, and he half-expects you to pull out another one of your belongings— but it’s a lighter. The long, slim kind, that you keep for candles. You don’t look at him when you say, “might as well, right? It already smells like the gym in here.”

Your words are joking but he knows you’re making an excuse and you know it too. Biding time, is what you're doing, and something so grossly like hope dries out his tongue. You are trying, too. You aren’t ready to let go yet, either. The candle isn’t burnt out yet. There’s still time. You light the candle and the warm smell of jasmine amplifies— there are notes of vanilla, and something sweet like honey, and it’s so much richer than it was when you’d first brought it home. The wick burns and stretches its limits. It’s a matter of minutes before it gives out. It’s a matter of minutes before his chance is gone. Rin is good at wasting time, but maybe he can be better at using it. So he dry swallows the knot in his throat, and speaks.

“I missed you.”

He didn’t know what else to say. It’s so painfully true, his simple, stupid sentence. He missed you. So, so much. You don’t look at him. You watch the candlelight flicker, as if you’re waiting for it to go out.

“Oh,” is all you say.

“I did.” He manages the words out and they are rough with unprocessed emotion and guilt and god, he hates talking about his feelings.

You turn at this, eyes dull. He feels about as shattered as you look. “I kind of can’t believe you.”

And why should you? Oh, why, why, why should you? The simple answer is: you shouldn’t. He doesn’t think you should. You don’t think you should. No one, god, no one, would think you should. Because Itoshi Rin is cruel. He is a distant lover, with hands bloodier than his heart. He is callous. He is cold. Itoshi Rin is not a man who will wait for you, but one who will want you to wait for him. He is stubborn and unkind. Itoshi Rin cares not for most people. He holds more hate in his heart than love. He can’t help it. He can’t. He can’t be fixed. Broken beyond repair, Itoshi Rin is not worth your time.

But, among all this, he is selfish. Oh, he’s so selfish, with the way he wants you. He wants your hands in his hair and your warmth on his skin. He wants to feel your heartbeat flicker and burn under his rough palms. He wants to hold the left side of your chest— your beating, bleeding heart— in the palm of his hand. He wants every inch of your body to have his touch seared into your skin so you can’t forget about him, not ever, because he can’t be alone without you. He wants your voice in his ear, he wants you to say his name. He wants your love, plain, simple, clear. Because despite his selfishness, despite his flaws, his ambition, his cruel streak, his hatred, he loves you more than anything. It’s one of the few things he holds true in his heart, one of the only facts and constants he has. He is 24, he is foolish, he is in love with you. This is all he has. He cannot let it go. He refuses to.

“I love you.”

You have been with Rin for a year, 8 months, 22 days, and a few hours. He knows because he keeps track. All this time, he’s never been able to say those words. He knows they’re true. You know it, too, that he loves you. But he’s never said them. You never pushed, never bothered. And if you cared, you didn’t say a word. This is something about you he can’t help but think was one of the reasons he fell for you— emotional intelligence, beyond your years. You didn’t make milestones a big deal because you could sense he didn’t want them to be. But you go still at his statement now, and he hears your breathing hitch ever-so-slightly at the unexpected transparency. He says he loves you, and he means it. He does. He means it more than anything.

If Rin was a better person, he’d say more. He’d tell you that it’s okay if you leave him (it’s not), and that he understands (he does but he doesn’t care), and that you should find someone better (even though he really doesn’t think you should.) He would talk to you about how his past shadowed his future, how that affected him and how that, in turn, affected you, even though he never meant it to. How he has always been second best, but with you, he felt golden. How he wasn’t ready for the candle to burn out yet, but he couldn’t stop it. He really, really should say something else. But he’s not a better, or bigger, or kinder person. No, that’s not the man you fell in love with. So he says it again. “I love you.”

The words are more confident this time, whereas they were quieter, more hesitant the first. You don’t blink, you don’t move, Rin wonders if you even breathe— and then you laugh. There’s nothing funny but you laugh. It’s a rather inelegant snort of laughter, that gasps out into heaving breaths. Before you know it, you’re doubled over, hands on your knees, and it’s not a mean laugh. No, it isn’t. Joy fills the room. It’s yellow, like sunlight, but a million times warmer. Not the unpleasant kind, but a gentle sort of heat— like the first rays of sun after a long winter. Like spring is coming. Like a palm being warmed over the heat of a tiny, lit candle. Rin cracks a smile. It’s the somber kind. But it’s full of something blazing— something hopeful.

Through laughter, you manage to ask, “say it again?”

He makes a face. “No.”

“Oh, screw you.” It’s like the sun has risen (even though it just set) and the sky has been purged of clouds and smoke turned into a gentle little breeze and the world was a million pounds lighter. The burden of guilt feels less like a burden and more like a ball and chain– still heavy, still holding on, but salvageable. There is a key. There is a way out.

His words didn’t fix everything. He knows that much. They didn’t erase the hurt, exhaustion, pain, the world of loneliness he’s put you in. They might never. But they brought your smile lines back. They brought the creases in your eyes back. They fixed, not saved, but fixed a little piece of what was broken. There is so much to be done. There are words to be said, arguments to fight, touches to be shared— but for now, this is enough. You drop your collected items on the desk and sit back on the bed, patting the space next to you, beckoning him to come sit. And of course he does, because he owes it to you forevermore. He’d spend the rest of his life making it up to you, he thinks. He knows he will. He sits next to you and feels warmer than he ever has.

(Neither of you notice that the candle has burnt out— oh, well. There’s a new one, unopened, in the closet anyways.)

[bullet-prooflove]

Underneath The Stars - Bottles x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @librarian1002 @thanossexual @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @adaydreamaway08 @wnbweasley @skyesthebomb

Companion piece to:

Inevitable - Bottles finds a letter on your kitchen table.

Prequel to:

Forward - You discuss your decision to stay in Santo Padre.

Tonight, Bottles takes you for a ride out to the desert, it’s something you’ve done a couple of times before because you love the tranquillity of the area, the spirituality. The two of you make a fire, you try to do it using the tricks you learned in Girl Guides before Bottles takes pity on you and uses his lighter to ignite the wood. He spreads his bedroll out in front of the fire while you toast marshmallows, waiting for them to crisp before popping them into your mouth.

You taste like burnt sugar when he kisses you under the stars. Your lips are sweet and sticky, and he smiles into your mouth because he likes you like this. Wild and free spirited.

He makes love to you in front of the fire. The glow from the flames illuminates your skin as he lays underneath you, his hands chasing up your waist holding you in place as he rolls his hips.

Already the pleasure is too much, the ecstasy chases through your veins as his cock rakes over that deviant little place inside of you. There’s a thrill in being out here like this but there’s also a serenity, a peacefulness that you never would have expected because you’re not just connected to him in this moment, you’re connected to nature, the universe.

It’s one of the reasons that Santo Padre is so special to you. However now you’ve had this job offer from the Robinhood Foundation in New York…

Your career had started there, event planning for Manhattan’s elite. Baby showers costing in excess of hundreds of thousands of dollars, charity events that were thousands of dollars per plate, kids parties held in museums that had budgets to revamp them into literal princess castles. You were excellent in your role, you’d made some big money but then you’d met Ben at a baby shower, and everything had changed.

“Don’t you think it’s excessive?” He’d asked you as you chaperoned a birthday party for a one-year-old which cost over two hundred thousand dollars.

“What I think is irrelevant.” You’d told him, ticking a checkbox on your clipboard.

“If you ever want to change that.” He tells you, handing you, his card. “Give me a call, the charity I work for is looking for a fundraising director. I think you’re wasted here.”

He hadn’t been wrong; you’d followed him all the way here to Santo Padre. The work you did at the community centre was some of the most meaningful you had ever undertaken. You actually made a difference in people’s lives. You may not be making the same money as you did back in New York, but your heart was full and that’s all that mattered.

Bottles fucks you like it’s the last time because to him it is. He’d seen the letter from the Robin Hood Foundation on the kitchen table this morning, the start date set for next week. He can’t compete with a job in New York, not one with that salary. He would never ask you to stay, that wouldn’t be fair so instead he gives you something special to remember.

A night underneath the stars before you head back off to the big city.

He draws it out, keeping you on the edge until your skin is flushed and your eyes are bright. You kiss him when you climax and he drinks down your pleasure, savouring it because this isn’t going to happen again, and he wants to remember this moment every single time he closes his eyes.

In the aftermath, you lay draped across his chest, your legs tangled up in his. The blanket from the back of his bike tossed over the two of you.

I’m going to miss this, he wants to say, I’m going to miss you.

He doesn’t say those words out loud. Instead, he just holds you close because the love of his life is leaving in five days, she just hasn’t told him yet.

Love Bottles? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[the-ellia-west]

Writemas

Day 5

Thank you to the lovely @agirlandherquill for hosting this challenge! Anyone can join at any time!

Prompts:

|A cage| The sting of heartbreak|The smile on his face was cruel. Beautifully wicked.|"You warned me of betrayals, but never from you.”|

-

Fye blinked, movement difficult and sluggish as she pushed her hair out of her face, as if her arms were weighed in iron. An afteraffect of the narcotic pollen. Her eyes darted around the room, immediately defensive. She lay in a small wrought-Iron cage, which took the center of a warm sitting room dressed in suits of various reds and golds. The dying embers of a fire crackled in a low fireplace barred with a silver grate, giving off a dim orange glow. And a cup of tea sat primly on a rich coffee table just out of reach of the silver bars, steam wafting into the hot air.

To anyone else, the situation might have been alarming and a bit confusing. To Fye, this was her worst nightmare. This room, the deep crimson carpets, the ever so heavy smothering heat, the dimly crackling embers, the far-off tick of a grandfather clock, and the thick combination of the scent of smoke and old, rotten blood.

Memories. Horrid, painful memories. Her father holding her on his lap on that very same armchair only yards from her current position, telling her warning fairytales about how kindness was a weakness. Ordering her to go to the prisoner inside the bars, where the desperation would drive them to try to use her as a hostage. She would beg and plead for help, but he only told her that if she was strong, she would escape all on her own.

No one was coming to save her.

The only times she'd ever been inside the bars, were when he'd sold her body and her flowers to his men for their morale, many of whom he’d made her kill for their betrayal. The fae scrambled to find the lock, every movement a punishment for her tired muscles. Dead, brown petals littered the floor of the cage as her fingers fumbled to control the magic burning at their ends.

“Fye! My Darling sweet daughter!” She froze as the eerily soothing voice rang through the room, numbing every other sound to dull murmurs. She gripped the bars, shaking on her feet, every minute standing another wasted.

“Are you not even going to give me the dignity of seeing those beautiful eyes of yours? Didn't I teach you better than this, love?”

Fye's words froze on her tongue, and she could only choke back a terrified sob as the petals drifting from her hair changed from pale blue to white. She had to make him believe they hadn’t completely fixed her. That would be the only way she’d get out of this cage without him calling Jatár or grabbing a knife. She straightened her shoulders and forced the flowers in her to bloom a deep, welcoming blue the color of the ocean as she spun to face him. “Father.”

But as she did, the smile on his face was cruel. Beautifully wicked in an awful way. The same smile that greeted her when she’d paralyzed prisoners, or when he’d told her about the taste of blood, praised her for a heart going cold. And he smiled that same smile now, cold and approving. And despite her better judgement, it felt good. She was doing the right thing.

“You warned me of betrayals, daughter, but never from you.” He sauntered over to the cage, trailing a finger along her jaw. Movement was too taxing to pull away, and now she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Hadn’t everything been easier with him? She didn’t have to wonder whether what she was doing was right or wrong. Only if it pleased her father.

But those words stung where it really hurt. Because they were true. She had warned him of betrayals, so if not for her, he may have been dead years ago, but now she’d joined their ranks. At only a few words from people who made her feel loved.

She gently slipped her hands behind her back. “I apologize, sir. I never… meant anything against you.”

Her voice dripped with a sickly sweetness, so deceiving even though she knew her own lie, she couldn’t help but debate over the truth in it for a split second. Was this the right choice? Was it better to choose the traitors and criminals who’d forgiven her relentlessly over the father who’d made sure she stayed diciplined, instead of lazy and complacent like any other child? Was it right to prey on his trust?

She hated the struggle within herself. But as the thorns pressed into the lock, she knew she hated him far more. If not for the lives he’d told her she was right to take, but for all the times he’d sold her like a slave. She hadn’t questioned it then, accepting cruelty as a principle of survival, pain as a necessary ingredient of negotiation. But every time hurt worse now that she knew kindness was a kind of strength in itself. Because she understood that if he had cared then, she wouldn’t have been the only one making sacrifices.

Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment! I love to read them!

@yolbert @seastarblue @darkandstormydolls @sunflowerrosy @urnumber1star

@i-do-anything-but-write

[small-sinclair]

Could you write Bo x insecure S/O (but like super duper extra fluffy). Idk why but Soft Bo is legit the best and not enough ppl write him like that.

Headcanons or dabbles - anything would be great, I trust that you know best. Anyways, thank you xoxo

Hewos! Hope you like vampires🩵

Bo x plus size fem!y/n

Contains: blood, biting, killing, she/her pronouns used, body shaming (not from Bo), not sure if I like the ending

Welcomed readers: @fluffy-little-demon, @sketchy-rosewitch, @lovely-cryptid

Bo POV:

Bo watched carefully as the new group in town moved through the streets. They were calling out for someone, but wax doesn’t talk back… it never has talked back unless you listen carefully. Still, Bo watched from the shadows in his black suit and tie, his fingers fidgeting with his father’s sun ring. He was busy thinking who was dead, who was art, and who was food.

Then Bo saw her in knee-high jean shorts, bright yellow t-shirt with cute butterflies on it, and a ball cap over her hair. The breeze carried her scent, and it sent shivers down his spine; he found her.

He found his wife.

Reader POV:

As soon as you and your friends entered the House of Wax, a smile crossed formed. Not was the air conditioner running at high to beat the heat, but there was a stair case made out of wax. The art was beautiful and bright, and it was paused in the 70s style.

“Y/n, wait!” You turned your head at Liza. “Look! It’s you!” She and her boyfriend started snickering as she pointed at a pig’s head on the table. “They knew you were coming!”

You hugged yourself as you shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, funny, Liza.” You move farther into the museum and looked at the waxed bookcase. “All of this is made with wax,” you whispered to yourself.

“Bet you wished it was made outta chocolate!” Marty, Liza’s boyfriend, laughed, his friends joining you.

You bit back your tongue and kept looking at the art and pieces. Under you, the floor creaked and cracked.

“Hear that?” One of his friends whispered, making you pause. “Oh, it’s not an earthquake— it’s just y/n walking around!”

Guess we know what broke the camel’s back.

You spun on your heels and hurried towards the door to find that mechanic—

When you opened the door, you bumped into a strong chest and stumbled back. You looked up to see a man dressed all in black with smoothed back from grease, and you could smell smoke and oil over his clothing, but it had a old country boy feeling to it.

He was startled that you were running out as soon as he was about to lay out his words for you in sugar, that was until Liza shouted, “Look out for Rhino!” Then they laughed you out, pushing past him and took off to the car shop.

He looks between your run and at the group. As much as he wanted to rip out all of their throats with his teeth, he decided against it. Instead, he put his fingers in his mouth. His whistle echoed throughout the building, and it silenced the laughter. Their eyes looked at him as he loosened his tie and pulled down his cuffs. His ocean blue eyes shimmered as they faded to a burning fire red, eyes twitching in anger. How dare they say that about you…

His boots echoed as he walked into the room. He turns, closes the door, and locks it. “Vincent!” Bo snapped, jolting the group’s shoulders. He takes off his jacket and throws his tie. His red eyes burned brighter, a snarl leaving him as he watched the group coward away.

As soon as he saw Vincent, he felt his fangs showing. “Now, we don’ take kindly t’folks like yourself.” As he talked, his boots echoed as he walked towards the group. They looked like cowardly sheep by the way the moved closer together. Bo could’ve laughed at the way the bigger one was trying to protect Liza. “Be a shame, though. To waste good food lik’ yer-selfs.”

“You’re-you’re a—“

“Aw, sweetheart,” Bo hummed, his drawl heavy as he and his brother corner the group. “Vampires lik’ us are rare. So… consider you lucky to see us.”

Vincent placed a hand over the mouth of one three men and lifted his mask. Long, pearly fangs showed before his bit down hard on his neck. Bo smiled as their screams echoed.

Let the games begin.

***************

You were crying in the church next to the waxed statues in the pews. You found out that they were bodies real fast, but you didn’t seem to care much as your cries echoed around the church. You didn’t know how long were you crying in a ball behind the casket. You heard the whispers and murmurs on the tape reply twice already.

Then you hear the door open and boots clicking towards the casket. “Darlin’?” The man called. “Darlin’? Ya in here?” He didn’t wait for you to answer as he rounds the coffin and finds you curled into your lap crying. He frowns and sits next to you. “Now, why is a beautiful creature like you cryin’?”

“I���m-I’m not beautiful,” you cried. “I’m fat and ugly and-and—“

“An’ t’right size to show some lovin’,” he interrupted, saying those words like it’s a fact.

“You’re just saying that to-to be nice,” you sniffled. “You don’t mean it.”

He chuckles and leans back on his mother’s coffin. “Nah, honey. Can’t lie in front of my mama.” You glanced at him, and your eyes grow wide as you saw his hands and neck covered in dried blood. “Mama didn’t raise a liar,” he drawls. “I swear to ya, honeybee,” he glanced at you and flashed you a smile. His white canine s longer than normal… but you weren’t afraid. “I think ya t’prettiest thin’ I’ve ever seen. Shit, ya put ol’ Ms. Ambrose to shame.”

You laughed at his comment and shook your head. “Bet you charm all the ladies.”

“Yeah, I do,” he answers, “but I reckon I found myself an angel righ’ here.”

You look at him up and down. “Are you… flirting?”

“Am I doin’ good?” He leans forward and looks up at the altar. “I hope ‘m doin’ good.” He looks around and sighs softly. “I bet you saw the people…”

“The waxed graves?” You wiped your eyes. “Yeah. But it doesn’t scare me. I just… just needed to cry. Besides,” you lowered your eyes, “I’m a rhino.” Then you rolled your eyes. “And a southern vampire is going to kill me.”

Bo shook his head and moved to be kneeling in front of you. He took both your hands and said, “Darlin’, what do you want?”

“What—?”

“What do I need to give ya?” Bo asked again. “The stars? Moon? Shit, ‘ll give ya my dead-beating heart! Anythin’ just to see ya smile.”

“How about your name?” You asked, feeling how sticky his hands were from blood.

“Bo,” he said, bringing up your hand and kissed it. “Bo Sinclair.”

“Y/n,” you said, smiling. “I’m y/n.” Then your smile fell. “You going to kill me now?”

He shakes his head. “Be a shame if I did.” He stands and offered you help. “Wanna take you home, sugar. Wanna show you off to every person an’ my brothers. You’re just so damn cute an’ beautiful.”

You looked at him and the blood on his chin. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart,” he whispered. You didn’t hesitate as you took his hand. “I’ll treat you so right everyday.”

“Everyday?”

Your hopeful eyes, your voice… Bo is falling apart for you so fast. “I swear to ya, y/n. Now, come on— Vince’s wanna t’meet ya.”

[fandomfics]

The Trouble with Love

Part 5

Parts 1-4 can be found here > Master List

Pairings: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x fem Reader, John Hancock x fem Reader

Discription: An accident in the wasteland leaves you and Hancock separated from Cooper, but he will do anything to get back to you.

A/N: thanks to those who have been enjoying this series ☺️

⚠️ Warning ⚠️

No smut. Sorry.

Claustrophobia, death/loss, blood, suicide, oxygen deprivation

The week passed by too quickly for your liking. You don't want to return to the world beyond the walls of Goodneighbor where danger lurks around every corner. You want to bask in the smoky haze of the Third Rail with your partners, shush each other drunkenly as you make your way back to your room, and lay in bed until mid morning tucked between Cooper and Hancock.

"you alright sunshine?" Hancock raises a non-existent brow in your direction.

"Yeah, just wishing the week wasn't over so soon..." He pauses, hand reaching for yours to stop you moving forward. He brings your hand to his lips with a tender kiss.

"Me too," he says, his gaze meeting yours, " maybe after this we can see what they got goin on up the coast in Far Harbor, get back to that little bungalow you built on the water. Been a while, they might have some work."

"That actually sounds nice." You smile warmly at the idea, knowing that in the wasteland the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.

As for now, you had taken a pretty good paying gig clearing Nahant Wharf for Preston Garvey. It's been years since you worked with him, but he came to you with plans to clear more of the Commonwealth and a hefty sum of caps for your work. Your trio had gained a good bit of notoriety with settlers and minute men alike for the speed at which you could clear and fortify any piece of the Commonwealth. You often found one of the many bounties on your list in the process as well, which kept the caps and the chems flowing.

"We better get a move on if we're gonna make it before Coop." Hancock begins to walk again without letting your hand go.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Daisy got me a lead on a new supplier," Cooper says adjusting his hat, "I'll meet ya at the rendezvous point by the wharf."

You and Hancock groan in protest from where you lay cuddled on the bed, "Can't you do that later?" You whine reaching out to grab his hand in an effort to pull him back into the bed.

"Darlin', that's downright cruel," he says with a smile, he leans down hovering over your lips, grazing them teasingly and swiftly moves to catch Hancock in a deep kiss. He pulls away and winks at you, "but I can be cruel too." He tries to make for the door but the hold you still have on his hand stops him. You yank back hard until he's forced to hover over you again, your other hand snaps to the back of his head pulling him in until his lips finally meet yours. You savor the kiss knowing you won't see him for at least a couple days.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The Lynn Pier Parking structure sits unassuming in front of you as the sun slowly dips behind it. You pause for a moment to admire one of the few truly beautiful things left in the world, the one thing that remains unchanging in the ever evolving wastes. It's reliable, a comforting balm to your weary soul even when you're at your worst.

Hancock wraps an arm around your waist, "We should head inside love." He says leaning in to kiss your forehead. You nod with a gentle smile and make your way into the old concrete structure. You make quick work of clearing it of rad roaches and setting a few traps before setting up your camp on the second floor.

"Got any plans for tomorrow?" The soft flickering light of the fire casts a warm glow on Hancock's face.

"We have the entire day before Coop is supposed to be here, we may as well do some scavenging in the area. I think theres-" you're interrupted by a thunderous crash below you in the mostly flooded bottom level. You cautiously draw your weapon and make for the ramp downward, Hancock close behind. You flip on the light of your pip-boy illuminating the path ahead, nothing you see alerts you to danger leaving pit of unease to settle in your gut. You peer down the ramp, squinting into the darkness searching for the smallest disturbance when a violent cracking sounds from overhead.

Suddenly you feel Hancock's arms around you pushing you to the ground, covering your body with his as the parking structure collapses around you.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Cooper's meeting with the chem supplier was a productive one, he was able to have a steady supply delivered to Daisy on a monthly basis. He felt that things were really looking up for him, a streak of luck that started in the memory den when everything was finally out in the open.

He had been away from you and Hancock for three days, and it felt like a lifetime. His approach to the rendezvous point is already hurried, wanting nothing more than to sink down next to you by the fire, but when the building is finally in sight he brakes into a sprint.

The sidewalk in front of the crumbled building bears a circle with three lines protruding from the top drawn in chalk. The symbol that had been chosen years prior as a way to confirm where you were camped should you be separated. Frantically he begins searching through the rubble for any sign of life, hoping against hope that neither of you were in the building when it went down.

After hours of torturous searching he hears muffled screams. Hancock. He can't make out a single word he says, his exhausted body still fighting to move concrete slabs as heavy as himself in vain.

"I'm here!" He screams as loud as he can, "I gotta find somethin' to help dig ya out. I'll be back, promise."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You groan in pain as you open your eyes, the soft green glow of your pip-boy illuminates Hancock's worried face. You bring a hand up to touch the sore spot on your forehead and you wince in pain, blood coats the pad of your finger.

"Fuck sunshine, you had me worried." Hancock is on the verge of tears "I-I thought I was gonna loose you." He takes your hand and kisses it before putting it to his cheek.

Your eyes finally focus and you scan the area, you're in a tight space surrounded by the debris of the parking structure, and Hancock's legs are pinned. The twisted rebar of a slab of concrete is piercing through both legs and keeping him immobile on his stomach in front of you.

"John, we've got to get you out of here. You're hurt." You look around wildly for something, anything, that can help you out of this situation.

"Hey, hey," he pulls your focus back to him. "It's okay, I'll be fine. Once Coop gets us out, I'll heal. Always do. What's important is that you're okay." He does his best to calm you, and it works. You take a deep breath and try to think of a way out of this.

"How long was I out?"

"Long enough for Cooper to get here." He smiles at you weakly. "I couldn't hear anything he said, all muffled. I know he's gonna get us out though. "

You breathe a sigh of relief. You're still concerned about Hancock's predicament, but if anyone can get you two out, it's Cooper Howard.

An ominous beeping echos in the cramped space, the screen of your pip-boy flashes with a warning.

Low Oxygen.

Breathing apparatus recommended.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The Prydwyn is many things, first and foremost to Cooper Howard it is cruel. The inhabitants of the vessel merely tolerate him for the sake of remaining connected to you. The work you've done for them, mercenary or not, has been invaluable to their cause, which is why he also knows they are your best chance at being freed from the rubble.

"Maxon," the ghoul says as he steps through the door. "Get yer excavators. She's trapped." He goes on to further explain your situation.

Maxon turns to face Cooper, his face grim. "Well from what you're saying, she's probably already dead. I won't waste precious resources on a corpse."

Cooper takes a moment to compose himself. What he wants to do is kill Maxon, torture him, make him regret his existence. He grits his teeth, willing himself to keep his hands from wrapping around the elder's throat.

"I have something ta trade fer yer help."

"What could you possibly have that would entice me to do anything for you?"

"A G.E.C.K."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Let me do something dammit." Hancock pleads, losing his patience, his hands being held in place by yours, keeping him from doing anything rash.

"Coop will get us out before the air is gone. End of conversation."

"I won't be gone forever, I just need to cut off my air supply until we're rescued. If something happens to you, I couldn't live with myself, especially knowing I could've prevented it."

"What if it doesn't work and you ARE gone forever? You think it'll be easy for me to sit here and look at your body for God knows how long? Just like Nate?"

Hancock goes silent for a moment before submitting and you release him. Watching another person you love die is not in the cards. You would rather die yourself than face that again. You turn away to stare at nothing, tears stream down your face and he reaches a hand up to cup your cheek.

"I'm sorry Sunshine." Hancock whispers and you feel something sharp pierce your leg. You look to his other hand and see the syringe in his grip.

"Fuck you, asshole." You manage to slur out before everything goes black.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hancock looks to your sleeping form, grateful for the small stash of chems he keeps on his person at all times.

As he begins to rip his clothing into pieces his mind reels. The reality is that he is entirely unsure if this plan will work, he's never gone without air for so long. He struggles between seeing himself as heroic for risking permanent death for his love and the cowardice of killing himself so that if you die he wouldn't have to live with the pain.

Through the tears of his dilemma he begins packing his airways with the pieces of cloth he's torn from himself. With his head resting on the cool floor he keeps his gaze towards you and his vision goes fuzzy before he's gone.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Cooper is on edge watching the excavators do their work. He wants to rip one of the people from inside the power armor and take over himself. They don't move quickly enough for his liking. Hours pass and finally he hears one of them call out that they've found you.

He climbs the rubble and makes his way into the opening, shoving past the brotherhood knights. A column of light shines down on you, but you remain unmoving. Cooper collapses beside you on the ground and tries to find any sign on life, a pulse, a breath, anything. You're warm to the touch but that is the only thing he finds. He lays you back and tries to resuscitate you, switching between chest compressions and breathing into you. His movements are frenzied for several minutes until you finally gasp for air on your own.

He pulls you into his lap, his arms hold you in place like a vice grip and he finally allows his emotions to catch up to him. He buries his face in your hair and hides his tears.

"John..."you say trying to pull yourself to Hancock. Cooper's gaze follows you and he finally notices the state of his other lover. It takes a moment for him to realize what Hancock had done before he frantically tries to help you remove the fabric from his mouth and nasal passage.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The statehouse is glum, the near silence in the building is heavy, only being broken by the occasional creaking floorboards and mumbled acknowledgements from the guards. In Hancock's office you open the top drawer of his desk and find the treasure that was in his note to you. A gold heart shaped locket.

Tears burn your eyes as a mixture of love, sadness, and anger well up in your chest. You and Hancock will be having quite a chat about his actions while he's stuck in bed waiting for his legs to be useful again.

[universallydestinytaco]

A Wild Nerve-Ending on a Friday Night (Oneshot)

*mood music*

Well, tonight is the end of S2, beautiful friends…it’s been a lot of fun. I’d like to thank each and every one of you who made this off the wall, chaotic shitposting journey with us. This blog wouldn’t have been anything without y’all! Hopefully this show left us with some good memes….

So, until S3, I’m gonna keep writing silly little fanfics like this! Stay gold, critters.

….bang. /ref

Inspired by this post from @friendlysmiler

Pim is canonically quite the party animal himself from what we saw in everyone’s favorite episode so who knows what hijinks the little pink imp gets into? XD

Side Note: Bill and Smormu are not only both alive here but they’re a wlw couple here, Bill is a he/him lesbian and Smormu is transfemme and sapphic, because that’s how I roll.

Monday, 7:15am

A fresh start to a brand new week at the Smiling Friends charity has officially began as everyone punched in and awaited their breakfast Alan theatrically-prepared while he channeled his inner Joichiro Yukihira in the breakroom kitchen.

Charlie was scrolling through his phone while smirking at old Rage Comics from over a decade ago with Glep watching on his shoulder and making a similar goofy smirk while Pim happily drew a picture of his co-workers in colored pencils to stick onto the fridge while quietly singing a song from one of his comfort shows.

“Take a moment to think of juuuust, flexibility love and truuust~”

Once Pim colored inside the lines, he hopped out of his chair and scurried to the fridge to display his masterpiece. “Excuse me, I’m just going to grab the cheese to melt over our deluxe omelette.” asked Alan in his usual monotone voice while Pim let out a nervous squeak while stepping out of Alan’s way. While Alan grabbed what he needed he inspected Pim’s drawing a with an impressed smile. “I really like your picture here, you even perfectly replicated my scales.”

Pim started excitedly fidgeting his hands as he chirped: “Thank you, Alan, I always find it weird whenever people draw you, they tend to forget or deliberately leave it out. I think your scales are beautiful!” Alan got a bit bashful while trying to stay focused on finding the cheese grater, uttering a somewhat-shaker “Thank you, you’re too kind….damn can’t find it, don’t want to burn the omelette so I’ll just-“ Alan grabbed a knife and precisely peeled thin-layers of cheddar to gently lay on top of the fluffy eggy clouds seasoned with garden-fresh herbs and spring onions.

Charlie couldn’t resist making a cheap shot at his slinky red co-worker: “Hey guys, Alan cut the cheese.”, such was a line that caused him and Glep to burst into laughter as if they where in grade school. Alan, who was serving plates carrying slices of the omelette, wasn’t amused and was tempted to gift the two wisecracking ingrates each an equally-tasteless surprise of pulling a Glep into their food, but took the high-brow road with a classy remark: “Let’s switch the conversation to a topic with actual substance…so, how did everyone’s weekend go?”

Charlie piped up first: “I played through the entirety of this one cool RPG for two days straight then when I finally beat it I celebrated getting wasted at the bar before getting kicked out for starting another brawl and spent all Sunday sleeping off my hangover.” He lifted his right sleeve to reveal the cherry on top: “On the way home I got this bitchin’ tattoo.” Lovingly detailed on Charlie’s arm was a crudely-drawn snake-dragon thing with arms breathing fire.

Alan then turned to Pim, asking: “How was yours?” to which Pim casually replied: “Oh, nothing much, the highlight was me and some friends hanging out at a pool.”

…

Friday, 6:00pm ~ Three Nights Ago…

Pim was sneaking around with a group of familiar faces as the moon hung in the sky like a charm on a bracelet, a chorus of snickering harmonized with the chirping crickets and the hooting owls. They stop at their final destination: the fence barring access to a familiar estate from the common folk….that didn’t stop the wild bunch from helping each other break in by climbing over and slipping through. Greeting the mischievous party was a grandiose pool yard just begging for the crowd to jump in. “Ah, the perks of having connections with an A-List Celebrity….” Pim monologued to himself, before taking his shirts and shorts off revealing underneath was a hot sparkly teal one-piece with a star-shaped hole at the back for his pollywog tail to peek through. Smormu, who wore a pink floral-print bikini under her button-up and capri-pants whispered to Pim: “Are you sure we’re not going to get caught?” Pim replied with a grin: “Don’t worry, love, Mr. Frog’s out and about somewhere, probably at a crummy bar, and probably causing his usual commotions there so he isn’t too concerned with whatever’s happening here.” As Duncan and Dj Spitz set the mood by the former playing a 90s bop out of a retro boombox and the latter breaking out the booze, Everyone stampeded over to the pool in unison, each individual jumping in the cold crisp waters in various amusing ways as the loud victory cry of “GERONIMOOOO!!!!” bursted out of the ever-excitable Filmore’s mouth like a firework into the sky. It was a rip-roaring time with just a hint of good-old-fashioned chaos, just the way Pim liked it.

Just three nights night ago around this time, Pim was uncontrollably sobbing to himself in a pillow over the fact that his fickle sister Amy invited literally everyone she knew to her wedding… except for her ever-loyal and loving baby brother, bragging about having Mr. Frog as a celebrity guest. Sick of crying his eyes out and being excluded from his family’s lives on a daily basis, he figured he could have a celebration of his own! The only downside was his co-workers having plans of their for that weekend, otherwise he would have invited them over for this late-night dive.

“A toast to our dear comrade and member of the Pennsylvania UFO-Hunting Squad, the ever-lovable Pimling!” Bill proposed as he raised his glass, everyone followed suit, chanting Pim’s name, except for a heavily-intoxicated Dj Spitz pounding in his chest and hollering out: “FUCK YEAH ROCK ON LIL PINK MAN!!!” Of course Pim immediately got flustered, his face turned a vivid shade of hot pink as a result of all the positive attention while mustering the confidence to reply until grinning sheepishly and raising his own glass, stuttering: “T-thank you everyone, you’re all too kind…all this hype about little ol’ me.” In a rush off of the praise and the sheer audacity of his actions, he chugged his drink down without a second thought. Everything after that was a string of vague, discombobulated visions of what happened in-between the rest of the night…

Saturday, 5:02am

It was a very early morning when the dizzy, light-headed Pim woke up front-facing the twilight sky melting into daytime, getting up and finding himself floating inside Mr. Frog’s grandiose fountain in front of his house until he immediately snapped out of it upon just noticing the strewn toilet paper and graffiti all over the statue. In a panic, Pim swam out and scurried around looking for everyone else and making sure nobody was left behind, his heart raced discovering more of the shameless if not karmic defilement of Mr. Frog’s property: overturned lawn chairs with one thrown into a window, discarded junk inside the pool and the jacuzzi, more TP strewn around like party streamers and someone’s trunks (presumably Duncan’s) hung like a flagpole like a comical take on a windsock. It seemed everyone except Pim had taken off before sunrise if not gotten arrested. Combined with the panic attack he was getting and the unambiguous symptoms of a hangover reeking havoc on his body, Pim tried to reach for a trash can to stress-vomit until he collapsed and relieved his bile in the jacuzzi. Minutes went by as Pim felt weak like a newborn kitten, prepared for the legal trouble he was about to get himself in if Mr. Frog wasn’t going to maim him Spamtopia-style first….just then a familiar voice rang in Pim’s ears that filled him with relief, Pim’s eyes cracked open as he started upward at a sober Bill holding the hand of his stumbling partner, Smormu. “Morning, buddy, need a hand?” Pim responded without so much words as it was a tired grunt and raising his stubby pink hand to initiate Bill and Smormu helping their friend up. “Let’s hurry and get out of here, unless we wanna throw a party in the county tank.” Bill chuckled.

Later that day saw a double-dose of tea and drama Pim was secretly and gleefully catching up with, from Pim’s mother recanting to Pim how much of a disaster Amy’s wedding was when Mr. Frog showed his ass once again by getting drunk and trashing the place, even spilling red wine on her wedding dress. Then the news that Mr. Frog came home to his place utterly savaged, claiming he’d seek revenge on the purp but considering the type of person he was, everyone assumed that Frog did it himself after coming home from the wedding he was invited too and was too drunk to remember.

Monday, 7:27am

Pim finished with an uproar of laughter from his co-workers plus Mr. Boss, all of them in shock and awe that the one always perceived as the cute little “goody-two-shoes” of the Smiling Friends charity was capable of getting up to some serious frat boy-level shenanigans. Charlie felt as if he wasted his time spending his weekend the same as the last, so he asked his best friend: “Hey Pim, you think I can hang out with you next weekend?” Pim made an innocent pose, putting his finger on his lips as if he was a kid who got caught stealing from a cookie jar. “Well, maybe not same-the-same-place but I know another celebrity’s pool yard to break into! I hear the Krombledashians are hosting the Meep Gala next Saturday…”

[volleypearlfan]

Brambletown is wild

I thought that it was just a cutesy visual album, but it has some truly out of pocket moments. I don't mean this in a "this kids show is DARK and EDGY and ACTUALLY FOR ADULTS" way, because it is still for kids and there's nothing wrong with that, but well, just look at the moments below:

"And old rotten fruit starts smellin' like wine" - alcohol references on a special that aired on PBS Kids. They must be getting really lenient.

"But we gotta start fixing what's broken / or we'll throw the whole town away" - what did they mean by this?

"Or we'll throw the whole world away" - I guess this means that we should recycle stuff or else the world will end?

"Sometimes I lay by the side of the road / gettin' thoughts out of my head / But they say that's just a waste of time / and they call it playin' dead"

During the possum song, Possum sees a vision of two animals burning down the forest, accompanied by the line "to think about life and death"

"We all got scars when we dredge up the past / by unearthin' pain, the pain won't last" - I actually love this line, it's deep

"Turnin' right into wrong and wrong into right" - what did they mean by this? Fox and Badger must be doing some nefarious things

"Lightnin' Bug's yellin' that his butt's on fire" - you don't usually hear "butt" in a preschool show

One song is about a fox and a hare who are in love, but after one disagreement, the hare dumps him and just up and leaves. This song is really sad but also deep

Badger gets so depressed that he starts drinking maple syrup, which makes his stomach ache and his paws shake. It sounds like he's an alcoholic

He then goes to Dr. Mole and says that his "body is fallin' apart" - aka what too much alcohol does to you

Then Badger goes to a cliff and "stare[s] down at death" - was he planning to commit suicide?

Fox and Badger have an argument, Badger spills the potion that Dr. Mole gave him, which leads to the entire town burning down. This is another tearjerker. Since it was specifically the potion that led to the town's demise, does that mean it would have killed Badger if he drank it?

This was all very unexpected, especially since it aired on a preschool channel, but honestly, I welcome it. Not everything in life is happy. The sad moments in our lives are just as important as the happy ones, and I think this is an important message to send to kids. Plus, even though the town was burned down, they rebuilt it, showing that they have the power to heal even after trauma.

More of this please. This can go toe-to-toe with the likes of Fantastic Mr. Fox, Coraline, The Brave Little Toaster, Don Bluth movies, and Miyazaki movies. These movies may be for children and families, but they are not afraid to get dark and depressing and have compelling storylines. Kids are very capable of digesting complex topics, and I hope we get more movies and shows like Brambletown in the future

[daisyishedwig]

Posting this a day early because I'm going to be busy quite literally all day tomorrow. So here's some more from the Sebklaine fic, I think soon I'll be switching back to focusing on Kurt and Sebastian but here's a little more Seblaine in the meantime.

So instead he heads to his favorite coffee shop to caffinate and get some work done and his head on straight before he sees Kurt. But then he remembers his favorite coffee shop is also Blaine’s favorite coffee shop and he makes a sharp turn across the street to his backup coffee shop.  Either fate’s out to get him or has a funny way of helping him, because when Sebastian walks through the door, Blaine is the first person he lays eyes on. The glower he levels him with is so dark that Sebastian almost aborts his mission before steeling himself and determining to deal with the elephant now rather than later. He walks over to Blaine’s table and sets his bag in the chair across from him. “We need to talk,” he says, glad his voice stays firm even as Blaine folds his arms across his chest and narrows his eyes. “But I’m fucking exhausted, so please don’t leave while I get my coffee.” Blaine looks him up and down and Sebastian knows he looks far from his best. Baggy jeans, an old Columbia sweater, and sneakers he’s had to dig out of the trash on three different occasions (thanks, Kurt). Finally he sighs and raises an eyebrow in the direction of the barista and Sebastian takes that as his signal to leave. He gets himself an iced latte with honey and cinnamon and a blueberry muffin, cut in half. He returns to the table and sits heavily, sliding one half of the muffin across the table to Blaine. Blaine eyes it suspiciously, but makes no move to push it back to Sebastian.  “What do you want, Sebastian?” Blaine says, folding his hands in front of him.  “No, how are you, Sebastian? You look like shit, Sebastian?” Sebastian asks, taking a sip of his latte as he raises an eyebrow at Blaine.  Blaine rolls his eyes. “You look like shit, Sebastian.” Sebastian grins. “As opposed to how dashing I usually look?”  The corner of Blaine’s mouth twitches up into a facsimile of a smile before he schools his face back into a scowl. “Don’t make me throw your drink in your face.” “Your drink is closer.” “You think I’m wasting a ten dollar latte on you? You’re not worth that.” “Ouch,” Sebastian says, pressing a hand to his heart in mock pain. “Speak, Sebastian,” Blaine says, “I would like to spend as little time in your presence as is humanly possible.”  “But we’re having such a good tette-e-tette.” Sebastian knows he’s stalling but he’s about to admit to having emotions and previously Kurt is the only person he’s allowed to know that. “Sebastian,” Blaine snaps. Sebastian bites back a remark about loving the way he says his name. It’s, on the one hand, a sure fire way to get slapped, but it also feels a little too real to admit simply to get a rise out of Blaine. “Fine,” Sebastian says and crosses his arms over his chest. “I want us to be friends.” Blaine snorts, but backpedals when he sees the way Sebastian hugs himself tighter and flexes his jaw. He won’t meet Blaine’s eye and the show of anxiety intrigues him. “Kurt finally put his foot down about our vicious banter?” “This isn’t about Kurt,” Sebastian says with a shake of his head. “This is about you and me.”

I'll tag @calsvoid, @lusthurts, @sperrywink, @wowbright, @annepi-blog, and

@bitbybitwrites

[writtenbydarling]

The Makeup Incident

*Gone.*

*Fucking shitfaced.*

*Wasted.*

Those are the words that describe my state the best.

Right now I am leaning against the outer wall of an abandoned warehouse, the bass of the illegal rave inside vibrates through the air and I fish for the tobacco pouch in my little backpack.

With long trained movements I roll up a joint, the weed already mixed into the tobacco to make it easier for me. I have done this so damn often that I could probably do it while being asleep. Or while being at a rave with my pupils blown wide and trembling in the pace of the heavy bass.

*Lick, Roll, Shake.*

*Light up.*

*Inhale.*

I know this by heart, I know my body and mind so well, I know what I need.

So with a wide smile I sit down on the ground, not minding the new rips and tears in my already ripped and torn tights. It matches my aesthetic flawlessly anyway.

I take my time smoking, knowing the second I get in there again I will forget everything around me for a few more hours, just until the sun comes up and I need to go home.

I am not the most outgoing person, I only have one person I would consider a friend and even with her I don’t have the most regular contact, we’re old enough to have out own lives, She is married with two kids and a house and a dog. The picked fence fantasy.

I work all the time and when I am not working I lay on my couch and try to just make it to the next day, reading books, doom-scrolling through instagram and TikTok.

The most human contact I have is at work, but that’s what I am getting paid for, so I’m not there to make friends. The only time I really feel comfortable being around people is when I am high out of my mind because my head keeps fucking with me whenever a hand is coming close.

I check my phone one more time, the screen more blurry than I would feel comfortable to admit, but besides a few messages from a group chat nothing interesting is on there.

I finish the joint and make my way back inside, making my way back into the heat, back into the vibrations and back into the psychedelic experience.

This is how I want my birthday to be, colorful, bright, loud. *Perfect.*

————

Slowly the sun is coming up and I decide it’s time to leave, I am starting to come down from my high, so I buy one last water bottle for the way home and lace my shoes tighter. I have to walk quite a bit to the next bus stop, but thats fine with me. I’m awake and I *want to move.* So i put on my headphones, plug in my power bank to my phone and put on my jacket as I leave the location. It’s not as easy to climb through the damn fence with all the swirling colors I see, muted by now but still bright enough to make me smile like an idiot.

The beat in my ears leaves me dancing through the empty streets, a few cars are passing by, mostly caps, but I don’t even think about getting into one, I need the fresh morning air, I need to sing and dance as I go. So I do, completely shameless until I get to the more populated part of the town, company buildings, boutiques, offices. The more lively part. I quite like it here, it’s raw, it’s real. Grey and red go hand in hand, neon signs, dirty cars and sometimes a few cleaning ladies coming to work this Monday morning before everyone else gets there. The day slowly begins for the world while my day is coming to an end. Still the cocktail of drugs and alcohol is drumming through my system, slowly, ever so slowly, fading into nothing as I walk it off and stay hydrated.

I decide to skip the public transport completely, feeling way to awake, wanting to walk for a little longer before I get home. I love this time of the day, the slow change from silence to the heartbeat of the town. The change creeping around every corner.

I get my sunglasses out of my backpack and shield my eyes from the huge ball of fire shining through the building at a flat angle.

*Better*.

————

There are more and more cars on the street I walk by, the town humming to life before my eyes, a few people look at my attire closely.

Torn thighs, heavy boots, shorts, a tank top and a leather jacket. All black.

The blue and white split-dye hair up in space buns, glitter in my face and all over my body, long black nails, tattoos and piercings. Jewelry.

I know I am a neck breaker, besides the fact that I am loudly singing and dancing as I walk, being in the best mood.

I have to wait at a red light for a moment, just blindly starring into space, zoning out a little, lost in the music. I search through my backpack to find my lipstick, noticing I left most of it on the water bottle I am drinking from. Then I hear it. A roar. Loud, never-ending. Vibrating through my chest in the best possible way. My eyes focus in on my surroundings and on my left are a few motorcycles, waiting on their green light.

I am mesmerized, entranced, I *love* motorcycles, I always had. So I push my sunglasses up into my hair to see better, and my headphones down around my neck to hear better.

„Beautiful!” I call out to one of the riders, pointing at his bike. A bright red Ducati, made for high speed rides, made for open roads, made to go *faster*.

I am instantly in love. The rider pops open his visor, one of those mirrored-ones, enabling me to see his eyes.

*Wow.* i think. *Beautiful.*

He’s dressed in black leather gear, casually and confidently winking at me when I compliment his machine. I see the hint of a smile, only in the way his eyes close a little bit. Then I remember the lipstick in my hand and walk over to him. He tilts his head a little, as if to ask me what my intentions are right now. But I just close his visor and pop open my lipstick, thinking it’s an amazing coincidence his bike has the same color. I reapply, then I press a kiss onto the silver surface, smile, wink and cross the street, leaving him standing there with his friends.