#no sympathy for nick here

[bitacrytic]

Boston and Nick make sense in my brain, the others, not so much. (I actively don't want the others to get together.)

And like this Boston's first love (probably) so it might hit a few blind alleys but he'll get there. Eventually, (hopefully). But the real MVP of OFTS is Nick. The boy made Boston, for whom monogamy and being faithful is a line drawn by clouds, who has a very pessimistic view about romantic relationships, absolutely doesn't like taking and keeping pictures of his hookups with his own face showing, who repeatedly has shown he doesn't care for others; actually Cared. He kept a picture of them on his phone despite him wanting to forever protect his privacy fiercely, and not just that, he spent probably hours drinking and staring at it. His face, so sad and miserable. When Nick told him about his job, he had this teensy tiny little smile before Nick said he met a senior, and Boston's face fell. Nick actually made Boston care.

Umm, Anon? I feel you. But I don't want any of these men to end up together.

excuse the incoming rant...

For me, Only Friends is not necessarily a bl in that it's a romcom where the two leads get to ride off into the sunset.

It's more like a salad of toxicity and immaturity. The characters don't need to end up together. they need therapy. and accountability.

boston is a mess. nobody's child deserves to be involved with boston. when you consider the fact that he was friends with ray and mew for yeeeeeeaars and still did that to both of them, you have to ask yourself what he wouldn't do to you in a relationship. even cheum who'd managed to steer clear of boston's betrayal is about to learn that her "straight" brother was turned out by boston. not because he's a man, but because boston is the type of guy who ruins people. she doesn't want that for her brother but she knows what's going to happen to him now that he's in boston's vicinity. the only good thing going for him is his "honesty". and the quotation marks are there because he's inredibly selective with his honesty. But at least with drake's character and nick and atom, he was honest with them. they all knew what they were getting. but beyond that, judging by what he's done to his friends? yeah, boston needs doctors, not lovers.

as for nick. he needs to go to jail. while everyone around him is aware of the part they played in the fiasco, nick doesn't think he did anything bad. which means that he's going to do it again. jail. he doesn't deserve happiness. he said he was fine with being anybody to boston as long as he was someone, at least. and yet, he went and recorded an intimate moment Boston had with another person out of jealousy. he'll tell boston now that he's okay with boston's lifestyle, but he hates it. he's a liar. he's a creep. and he's getting away with so much fuckery because mark has fluffy cheeks.

he doesn't deserve boston just because he made boston care. he's a stalker. are we forgetting this? stalking cases are not romantic. they mostly end with someone dead or assaulted. it's not romantic. to him, boston is a fish in a bowl and the fact that he's gotten boston to care about him is not so much a good things as it is that he's found a way to tame the unruly slut. he's "changed" boston as if boston's sexual habits were ever a problem. (they weren't. his backbiting and scheming were the problem, not the sex)

before the whole fiasco with top, boston wasn't a pariah. his friends were just fine with his social life. if anything, ray was the problem of the group. boston didn't do drugs. boston didn't carry guns. boston just went to clubs, met with consenting ADULT men and fucked those men.

So by him finally deciding to settle down with nick is something that should be attributed to him growing up. not nick's ability to "change" him. because that part of his life was never a problem.

nick's jealousy was.

Anon, please excuse my mini tantrum

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: billy butcher, hughie campbell, frenchie, mothers milk, kimiko, and soldier boy

↳ warnings: canon type violence and happenstances. hinted to take place during season three at some points.

↳ notes: sorry butcher is in here so much. he's the kind of guy that can't shut the fuck up, so i feel like he's always getting in everyone business no matter what

↳ song: rock me like a hurricane—scorpions

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

• He has mixed feelings about you

• On one hand, you’re a great team player. Always making sure the job gets done, willing to put yourself on the line for the team, one of the most willing to kill a supe in a snap—second only to him—and always managing to make shit up on the fly whenever something inevitably goes wrong on a mission. Butcher has seen you fend off an entire team of armed Vought men before with nothing but a well timed lie and piece of pipe. That’s not something to scoff at, even if he does anyways

• But on the other hand, he has a feeling that you were just as much as an annoying shit as he acted sometimes

• “Sorry to say this guys—“ You said one night through the food in your mouth as Chinese takeout sat on a dirty table in front of you, curtesy of M.M and his pocketbook, “—but I think I’d betray you all for a fortune cookie. I’d betray my country for a fortune cookie.”

• "You say that like we ain’t already betrayin’ the cunts, sunshine.” Butcher eyed you from across the room as you nicked Frenchies own cookie from him while he was staring off at Kimiko for the tenth time that night

• “Too right, Butch.” You grinned like a shark at your idiotic nickname for him, and he ignored you as you did so; like he always did

• He definitely appreciates your enthusiasm behind his plans. Unlike Hughie or M.M, who despite working in the business of taking down supes seem to be hesitant about doing too much shit, you don’t seem to have a very strong moral code. That’s not necessarily a good thing in anyone’s eyes except for Butcher’s, who knows that he can always count on you to have his back in whatever situation he manages to squeeze himself into

• “Thanks for comin’.” He grunted at you while vomiting into a toilet, green bile spewing from his mouth. Butcher’s eyes burned with the urge to let out a laser beam, and he did so for a moment, splitting the porcelain throne we was leaning over in two

• “Want me to hold your hair back for you, honey?” You didn’t even miss a beat to start making fun of his situation, which made Butcher growl at you even from his current position. Despite your sarcastic demeanor in the moment, and the way he had just scorched an unexpected hole through the shitty bathroom, Butcher knew you’d help, no questions asked. And that’s exactly what you did, grabbing whatever he asked you to as he gave you a run down on the latest solo mission he had been attempting to get by with on his own

• “Jesus, poor Gunpowder huh?” You mused as you crossed your arms and leaned on the sink above him. For a moment Butcher thought you were granting the dead supe a bit of sympathy before he saw the glint in your eyes. “If the last thing I saw before I kicked it was your mug, I’d probably wanna get it over with yeah?”

• “Do me a favor. Go grab the toaster in the other room an’ take a nice bath with it, would ya?”

• “You first, Butcher.”

𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥

• The two of you are like peas in a pod. Two very weird, very cautious peas in a pod

• Even if Butcher is beside himself with annoyance at having another, as he put it, “soft cunt with a morality complex,” join the team, Hughie couldn’t be happier that someone seems to share his values on supes, on Vought; on the world, really

• In the first season or so, the two of you would probably spend a lot of time in between working with everyone else in the field to come up with a way to take Vought down the right way. Eventually,as we all know, that later falls apart, but it exhilarates Hughie to know that there’s people out there like him that want to try and put in the effort for things like that

• “Yeah, so if we can get one more witness about the Termite incident to come forward and testify—“ You bit your pen between your teeth and nodded as Hughie waved his hands over a stack of papers and talked at a million miles an hour, somehow understanding each and every word.

• “—then we could finally take a supe down legally. And that would make way for a whole round of others; Hughie you’re a genius.” You finished his sentence for him, slapping a hand down on the table with a grin as Hughie smiled. Somewhere in the distance someone snorted wryly, no doubt having heard the entire conversation. You had no doubt it was Butcher, but that didn’t matter to the either of you with how happy you were at the revelation. No matter how temporary it would turn out to be

• Hughie finds himself trusting you quite a bit. He can get attached pretty easily, so he finds himself willing to do anything to back you up—within reason of course. He still has some semblance of sanity left

• Listens to Billy Joel with you! Doesn’t matter if you all are coming back from a mission covered in blood—once it was whale guts—he will stick one earbud in and leave the other out for you as he presses play on a mix. More than once the others have found both of you passed out and snoring as the faint sound of Billy Joel plays through the headphones

• “Think we should wake them up, mon amie?” Frenchie tilts his head as he looks down on the both of you. Hughie chest rises and falls with a softness he couldn’t afford on the regular. You were positioned far away from him to have your back to him, somehow keeping your end of the earbud in as you drooled

• “Nah, let em sleep. God knows they need it.” M.M shook his head with crossed arms, the sight reminding him of better times

• “Oi! Stop ogling at the knackered sods and come help me with this, would ya?”

• “Fuck you, Butcher.” M.M said with a sigh, leaving the room to go and help anyway

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞

• He fucks with you so hard

• I mean, come on, someone that’s as excited about making bombs as he is? Someone that is willing to understand French? To shit talk everyone else to their face—especially Butcher?? He might have to marry you on the spot

• Please learn French. He will literally beg you to start. Conjugates, vocabulary, even a simple ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. Anything at all. Will absolutely not judge you for your horrific accent or pronunciation if you have any

• Bomb lessons on the side, too. If you already know the basics, or are a pro, it’ll be a lot more breezy, but he’s willing to start from scratch. It’ll be nice to have a partner to help him with his creations on the team for once, and even better since he likes you

• The two of you, and Kimiko obviously, are practically joined at the hip. What I said about the shit talking earlier was real, too. All of you use different languages or sign to voice whatever you’re thinking. It’s nice to be able to speak your mind freely, and there’s the added bonus of not having M.M give you that sharp look of his, or Butcher calling you names. Anymore than usual, that is

• “What do you reckon the three of ‘em are always on about?” Butcher took a swig from his drink. He was sitting next to Hughie with a beer on one of their down days as the younger man typed away on a computer. He was watching you Frenchie and Kimiko from across the room as you all signed at each other with giant smiles on your face. Frenchie would speak occasionally, but all that came out was his mother tongue, and your face would pause for a moment as you let your brain process what he was saying. Then all of you would break out into another round of grins, something that Butcher had to deadpan at

• “Probably planning a coup.” Hughie answered Butcher without even looking up from his screen. He knew who he was talking about anyways. It wasn’t hard to guess thanks, to the occasional loud exclamation from Frenchie as you signed something particularly risqué or funny

• Butcher flitted his eyes away in annoyance from you all after he recognized the word ‘cunt’ in the passing conversation, along with a sign that was clearly supposed to represent him

• “I think at this poin’ I’d prefer tha’.” He grumbled into his cup, and all of you laughed

• “Cheer up, Butcher. At least Frenchie isn’t teaching them how to make homemade cherry bombs again.”

• “Shut up.”

𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐤

• Finally. Someone other than him can be the voice of reason in the group

• It’s tiring being the one to hold everyone together all of the time. It might help if Butcher wasn’t so much of an ass, or if Hughie didn’t feel the need to derail every plan with thoughts of his own, but M.M knew that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. So he’d take any help he could get with reigning everyone in

• Definitely bonds with you over your shared habit of wearing band t-shirts to meetups or hideouts. I’d like to imagine that at one point the both of you show up wearing the exact same one, and it goes exactly how one would expect

• “Same shirt.” M.M notices one morning, pointing at your torso with the initials N.W.A written over it. He’s smiling, and so are you as what he’s wearing in turn dawns on you

• “Same shirt!! Hell yeah.”

• Fist bumps. Fist bumps galore, man. The two of you fist bump a lot. To punctuate sentences, drive a point home, agree on stuff—anything. It’s your own way of communicating with each other without having to bat an eye

• It’ll take M.M a while, but eventually he’ll start to really open up about missing his family to you. Beyond just showing you pictures of his daughter at soccer practice, I mean. If he trusts you enough to have his back in a shoot out, then he trusts you with this

• At one point, it goes farther than his (regrettably ex) wife and daughter, and eventually branches out into what he’s willing to tell about his dad and brothers. You feel like you know all of them by the time he’s done, and that only makes the typewriter story hit harder when he finally decides to reveal it

• Let’s just say you were pretty willing to jump Soldier Boy on M.M’s half the first time you were left in a room with them

• “Just one swing I swear—“

• “He will literally beat you into a pulp.” M.M deadpanned, doing his best to avoid looking at the other imposing figure in the room as he clasped two hands on either of your shoulders

• “Listen to your friend, sweetheart. Would hate to have to scrub my hands clean of any of your blood. Getting under the fingernails is always hard.”

• “See what I mean, just one punch that’s all—“

• “No.”

𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐨

• It’s honestly great for her to be able to hang around someone that feels the same way that she does. Maybe it’s how silent you are that really draws her attention at first, but Kimiko really grows to appreciate you as a member of the team

• Probably gets a lot of joy from having a friend like you. She constantly asks to do things like have you watch movies with her or to do ‘sleepovers,’ which are really just the two of you crashing on the main room couch together

• She never got a chance at a normal childhood or friends, so you and Frenchie are the closest she gets to a peace of mind

• Not even a question about it, she’s making you learn her sign language

• Will stare at you for days on end, saying nothing but everything at the same time until you agree to learn. Once you do, it’s all over. She gets the biggest most happiest look anyone ever seen, and there’s no turning back from that

• “Kimiko, what are you doing. It’s two in the morning.” You groan at her from under the thin covers of your bed, doing your best to ignore her hands as they fly about. It’s the childish equivalent of ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’

• ‘No time to sleep. We have to go over stuff before the mission tomorrow. It will help us communicate.’ She was unnerved by your lack of enthusiasm. If anything it only spurred her on more, shaking your bed and pulling at your covers as you groaned. Even with the progress you had been making with signing over the past few weeks, your knowledge was still a bit shaky, and being half asleep didn’t help, so you only caught a few words. Enough to know what she wanted, however

• “Go away, Kimiko.” You whined. The shaking stopped, and for a moment you thought your request had worked. You were more than happy to fall back into whatever dream you had been having beforehand

• Then you heard the rushing of feet and a large weight slammed onto your legs

• “Goddamnit!—“

• Frenchie found the both of you the next morning; Kimiko looking bright eyed and bushy-tailed while you were practically falling asleep from where you sat. It was a teasing point for you over the next two weeks

• Between you, there’s moments like that where, despite Kimiko’s silence and your habit to keep your thoughts to yourself, nothing ever goes unseen or unsaid. The two of you know each other like the back of your hands, and sometimes you wonder if you’d even need her sign to communicate

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲

• If the saying ‘this town ain't big enough for the both of us’ could apply here, it absolutely would

• It’s almost ironic how bad Soldier Boy handles another version of himself. You’ve got just as much snark and anger as him, and it pisses him the hell off. Constantly.

• Maybe it’s because you didn’t fan boy over him as soon as he flashed a few cheesy lines that keeps his disdain for you boiling, or that you didn’t keep your distance when he threatened to eradicate your entire bloodline if you didn’t stop running your mouth at him

• “Need help with that?” He cocks a brow at you one day, watching with poorly hidden annoyance as you struggle to tie a knot in your shoes for the fifth time in a minute. The offer isn’t serious, and even if it was, he has no doubt you wouldn’t hesitate to kick him in the face if he bent down to tie your shoe for you

• “Need help taking my dick down your throat?” You parroted back at him while raising your voice in a false-happy tone. Finally you get the shoestrings to cooperate, completely missing the way Soldier Boy glows in a harsh warning at your attitude

• “Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty.” Butcher calls from the room over, no doubt tired of the bickering between the two of you that had been nonstop for the past few days. “Let’s get a move on before one of you decides to claw the others bloody eyes out, yeah?”

• The fact that you’re not even a supe just ticks him off more. Only a few people have ever pushed his buttons like this, most of them being supes, and they always ended up being nothing but red paste in the next few minutes

• You make sure to point it out to him several times that you’re just acting like he always does, making sure to don a shit eating grin when he clenches his fist at your comment

• Please for the love of everything that’s holy tone it the fuck down. Some people may say that Soldier Boy has no self-control, but it sure is taking a whole lot of it not to kick you in the crotch as hard as possible

• “The feelings mutual.” You deadpan at him when he eventually shares that fantasy out loud. He knew full well that if you even so much as tried that, you’d end up with a broken ankle and your front pinned to the closest brick wall, but he had no doubts that you would go for it anyway

• Seriously. How has he not murdered you in your sleep yet

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

550 words / 25 / more ghost + gaz with free use medic reader

...

"Come here, medic."

"I told you, I'm fine."

"Ain't a request." Ghost takes you firmly by the back of the neck before you can flee. He squeezes tight enough to make it clear he's not asking.

You feel his and Gaz’s eyes on you--on the bleeding laceration sliced through the outer cartilage of your ear and on the bruise forming on your cheekbone. You got tangled up briefly with an enemy tango and almost became a hostage. Or a statistic. But you're fine now.

"You're making a big deal over nothing,” you tell them.

Ghost pulls you forward and angles your face this way and that, trying to get a better look at you.

Gaz crosses his arms and stares you down. "Fine is when you burn yourself on a shell casing. You're not fine." He's barely holding back the edge in his voice. He can't pull rank on you--none of them can, technically--and he's supposed to be polite and respectful. But seeing that happen to you, and the adrenaline running through him, is making him thoughtless.

"He only grabbed me. Didn't hurt me."

Ghost hisses at you, his voice just as rough as the squeeze he has on the back of your neck. "What happened isn't important. What's important is that he thought he could touch you." His grip tightens. "You're in our squad. You're under our watch. No one messes with you."

Your gut twists. That's not fair--acting protective. It's part of their job to keep you safe, but they don't have to talk like this. You glance at Gaz for help, but the look on his face tells you he doesn’t disagree with Ghost. You swallow the protests on the tip of your tongue and close your eyes, silently letting them examine you.

Ghost finds another few nicks and fresh bruises. You’re a medic—you’re not as armored as they are because it’s a goddamn war crime to kill medical personnel. "Jesus,” he mutters. “Bastard snuck up on us.”

"Thank you," you say quietly.

"For what?" Ghost snaps back. As usual, he's not expecting gratitude from you. You're supposed to take the insults, the berating, the harshness. And the protection, because you belong to them. At least, that's how they see it.

Gaz speaks up. "No one treats you like that again, alright?"

"It's not like I asked him if he needed a hostage."

"Doesn't matter," Gaz retorts. "If someone puts a finger on you like that again--"

Soap ducks back into the room, his rifle’s muzzle on his shoulder.

"Take care of it?" Ghost asks.

"Aye," Soap says. "Bastard won't be layin' his hands on anyone anymore. Not enough fingers left, for starters." He turns to you with a look of sympathy, but you recognize the wild edge of adrenaline still present. "You alright, hen?"

"I'm fine." You use the opportunity to worm yourself out of Ghost's grasp. "We going?"

"Affirmative," Gaz says. “We should move.”

Ghost turns away, forcing his attention back on the mission even though he carries himself with cold anger. Soap looks you up and down once more, his eyes lingering on your cheekbone a little longer this time. He seems about to say something, but thinks better of it. His blue eyes soften just a bit before he turns to follow Gaz and Ghost.

...

more Gaz / more Ghost / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

[avelera]

Re-watched Captain America: Winter Soldier and First Avenger (in that order lol) and hey guys

Remember that time Steve woke up in New York City 70 years later and panicked, thinking he was in HYDRA hands and haha, actually it turns out, he kind of was??

Also remember that bit where he found out in the most deadpan way possible (thanks Nick) that everyone he had ever known and loved was dead or aged to to the point of death in the blink of an eye, and no one ever actually like, gave him a moment's sympathy for the fact his entire world ended in a split-second of self-sacrifice that ended up just being one battle in a war that never ended?

Remember when he found out that the only person left who loved him, Peggy, only occasionally remembered him in moments of lucidity haha and then it turned out that the only other person who still lived and who loved him, Bucky, also only remembered him in moment's of lucidity?? Good times, good fucking times, I'm an emotional wreck about it

And one last thing, because I will never ever fucking ever let this grudge go, remember that time Tony fucking Stark who I mostly love but in the context of Steve Rogers specifically I want to tear him to shreds, decided to have beef with a literal traumatized 20-something year old war veteran whose entire world just dissolved into nothing in the 70 years he was on ice, and Tony fucking Stark decided to pick a fight with this guy and rag on him 24/7, despite being in his 40s himself and completely comfortable, stable, and with insane levels of wealth and privilege, because his fucking dad who has been dead for decades apparently loved this guy more, something that would have bewildered Steve who like, barely knew Howard outside of work, and that Steve had fucking nothing to do with Howard's neglect of his son because it all happened while he was unconscious?

Don't even get me started on Civil War, we will be here all day in how these supposedly equal sides weren't even slightly equal in morality or logic at all, but I will die on the hill of Tony fucking Stark was being a Grade A fucking asshole for his stupid man-child fight he picked with Steve Rogers when you actually objectively view Steve's life story as a human being instead of a symbol that he was literally forced to be

Whew. Ok. I'm ok now.

...

AND ANOTHER THING...!

[megameatymatt]

Bad Behaviour - Matt and Chris Sturniolo

Summary: Matt and Chris have rules set up for you, what happens when you break one

Warning: swearing, filthyyy, smut, p in v, threesome, unprotected sex, punishment??, Dom!Matt, Dom!Chris, sub!reader, barely proof read

requested: nope!

A/N: I apologize in advance, Feedback, interaction, and requests are appreciated! stay slutty ok bye💋

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

You, Matt, and Chris have been friends with benefits for a while now. It started off casual, but lately, things have become a lot more intense. And you can't deny that, you loved it.

The two had set up some rules for you to follow, the most important one being: Unless one of them tells you too, you can't touch yourself no matter what. It has been the hardest rule to follow, especially right now.

You're sat on Chris's bed, squeezing your thighs together, trying your hardest to ignore the throbbing between your legs. Chris is in the shower so if you wanted to break the rules, this would be your chance.

You put your phone to the side and slowly spread your legs. As soon as your hand reaches your clit, the whole world is blocked out. A moan escapes your lips and your other hand flies to your mouth in an attempt to muffle it.

You didn't hear the shower water stop running, you didn't hear Chris walk out of the bathroom. But you did hear him call your name, "Y/N, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Your eyes shoot open and you face him. "Chris wait, please don't-" Before you can finish your sentence Chris takes your hand and is practically dragging you to Matt's room. You're just happy Nick isn't here to see and hear all this.

"Go ahead Y/N, tell Matt what i caught you doing" Matt is on his bed scrolling through his phone before his eyes dart up to see you and Chris standing at his door.

"Matt I'm so sorry please-" "If you don't tell him, I will" Your gaze falls to the floor. "Fine. Matt, this little slut was touching herself" Matt smiles then sighs "What are we gonna do with you love? hm?" He teases, walking up to you and pulling your chin upwards, forcing you to look at him. "So needy, can't even keep your hands to yourself

His eyes are filled with pure lust, more than you've ever seen before. "How many punishments do you have to take before you finally learn your lesson? Huh, baby? look at me" You turn to Chris, searching for sympathy in his eyes. "please, Chris I'll be good, I'll never do it again" He smirks "Beg all you want baby"

You turn back to Matt, he's usually the one who always lets you off easy "Matt, I'm so sorry" You say, looking into his eyes. "Prove it. On all fours, now"

He says pointing to the floor in front of him. You start to tremble, Your knees get weak and you slowly drop to your hands and knees. Matt undoes his belt. You pull his boxers down as he places a strand of hair behind your ear and gives you a lustful smirk.

You swirl your tongue around his tip before taking him into your mouth, your hand stroking the inches you couldn't fit. Your moans send vibrations onto Matt's cock, causing him to let out a few moans. Chris comes up behind you and grabs a fist full of your hair pushing you further down Matt's cock. "Fuck Y/N, taking me so well"

It's now you realize, you hadn't came before Chris pulled you out of his room. Almost like Chris had read your mind, he kneels down and pulls your shorts and panties down to your knees. He runs a finger down your wet folds. "So wet for us hm? you perfect little slut" He slides himself in and starts to thrust.

Tears start to run down your cheeks, Matt looks at you and smiles. "such a whore for us baby." You let out yet another moan. Matt pumps deeper into your throat and you gag. "Is that too much for you baby?" Matt says with fake sympathy "My little slut can't handle it?" without warning he cums in your mouth and pulls out. "Don't you dare spit" Chris says from behind you thrusting faster. You didn't plan on spitting, it's not like they ever let you anyway.

The warm sticky liquid slides down your throat and you stick your tongue out to show Matt it's gone. "Good girl," Matt says, "I knew you could do something right" Matt sits back and watches as your eyes roll while his brother fucks you

"Chris i'm so close" You choke out. "Cum with me ma" And with that the both of you cum.

Everything else is a blur and somehow your clothes have been discarded on the floor, and your back is rested against Chris's chest as he spreads your legs apart.

You whimper and whine as you see Matt crawl between your legs. "Don't squirm, baby, you're not going anywhere" Chris brings his head further down to leave marks on your neck. Matt teases your pussy, running his fingers up and down your folds. "Matt, please." You whine. "I don't wanna hear it bunny" Matt finally places his tongue on your clit, swirling it in figures of 8. You're eyes roll back and suddenly the sensation stops. "Don't look away, or else I'll stop" He says squeezing your inner thigh. "Do you want me to stop bunny?" You shake your head. "I need words," he says, now leaving marks on your thighs. "No Matt! please don't stop"

He smirks and continues eating you out. Meanwhile, Chris is behind you, sucking your neck and kneading your tits. You feel like you can barely breathe and you're fighting with everything in you to keep your eyes open. Matt's eyes stay on yours as he slides two fingers in at once.

"Fuck, too much," you say, barely able to form a sentence. "You can't handle it ma'? You knew the consequences, so be a good girl and take it" You whine and grab a fist full of his hair, trying to push him away. "Touch me again and I swear I'll tie you up" That's the only thing Matt says before going back to eating you out. Matt starts pumping faster and Chris is feasting on your neck so hard, you would think he's trying to draw blood.

You feel your orgasm approaching and you immediately blurt out "cum Matt, I needa cum, please" You whine. "Cum baby." And without second thoughts you release into his mouth.

Chris gets up from under you to see how gorgeous you look from Matt's angle, and he isn't disappointed. Your hair is all frizzy and tangled, and tears are falling down your cheeks. Your legs are shaking, and you are barely able to stay up. "Fucking slut, you look pathetic" "What do you say, baby, can you take one more round" You nod your head and Matt lets it slide this time, knowing you couldn't form a single sentence no matter how hard you tried. He smiles, "all fours baby"

Chris is pounding into the back of your throat while Matt is behind you thrusting, a slap landing on your ass from time to time. You're convinced you won't be able to walk for weeks after this. "Look at our slut, making up for her bad behaviour," Chris says repeatedly pushing your head further down his cock. "Letting us fuck her out" "Fuck you're so good"

Chris and Matt cum in you at the same time. You're a moaning mess, they both pull out giving you a few seconds to catch your breath. "Fuck you were amazing ma'" Chris says as he leaves the room to get a towel to clean you up. "Act like a whore again, and your punishment will be worse"

taglist: @sturnobsessedwh0re

[chrissv4mp]

¡ YOU MADE ME HATE THIS CITY ! — CHRIS S.

chris masterlist & taglist // main masterlist

summary: you're not happy with chris. all he does is make you sad, and you're done with it.

pairing: chris sturniolo × fem!reader

warnings + topics: cursing, arguments, crying, chris is an asshole, driving under the influence, drinking, chris can drive in this one🗣, etc.

authors note: idk, basically how i feel when i'm with my bf anyway i'd listen to this album for a lifetime if i had to🗣🗣 I DIDNT KNOW HOW END THIS SOO sorry if the endinh is shit💔💔

word count: 4.9k

"when i'm away from you,

i'm happier than ever."

a laugh came from your throat as you grabbed taras arm, leaning on her for support as you both laughed your asses off at a joke told by nick.

he only smiled softly, trying to contain his own laughter as he watched his two friends. the taller boys eyes land on a guy across the room, and then he speaks, "hey, i'll be back. stay safe, and please don't go with any guys that look like creeps?"

you nod, and tara just smiles at him, "we won't, we're just here to have a good time. go get that man, nick!"

nick smiles, shaking his head as he looks away, turning his back to the both of you as he begins to walk to the other side of the building. tara turns to you again, tilling her head at the... sad look on your face?

"hey, what's wrong, babe?" her tone is soft, and she frowns slightly when you shake your head with a weak smile. your eyes meet hers, and she can tell somethings not right.

"there's clearly something wrong, y/n. come on, you know you can tell me anything. did someone do something to you? cause i swear on my life i'll beat their—" your eyes widen and you quickly cut her off with a nervous laugh.

"no, no, there's absolutely no need for that, tar," you give her a reassuring smile as you reach for her hand, running your thumb over her soft skin as you continue, "this is just the happiest i've been probably... all year?"

the shorter girl smiles, but then as your words hit, she feels another rush of sympathy for you, "well... i'm glad that you're having fun, but, you gotta let yourself be free some more, y'know?"

you nod, and then she continues, "go out with your friends, i'm free most of the time. and if you wanna be alone, then go do something for yourself, girl. i'm sure chris would also love to hang out with you."

he wouldn't, though. he didn't even come around most of the time, only texting you when he needed something and coming home just to sleep. hell, most of the time, he just slept over at some persons house who neither of you knew. he made you feel like you weren't lovable, always complaining about little things and then blowing up when you tried to defend yourself.

that's why you dreaded coming home after every hangout. you hated coming home to chris, just for him to yell at you and make you feel shitty. you really wish you could explain it better, the feeling he gives you. fuck, you even wished it was fake, the feeling of pure happiness whenever you weren't around the boy.

but everybody else's relationships are like this, right? it's normal, you tell yourself. everything chris has done to you is completely normal. you think. he hates when you think because he always say that your mind works in interesting ways. he always say that you have a terrible mindset, undermining your way of thinking.

"yeah. chris." you mutter, flashing tara a smile before you go to stare at your intertwined fingers, you don't even realize how hard your gripping her hand until she winces, "shit. i'm sorry."

she just shrugs, a reassuring smile on her face as she squeezes your hand. as she looks up at your face again, she frowns, "y/n..."

her mind wanders back to your last words, the mention of chris' name the one thing that set you off and made you act out, "it's him, isn't it? what's he doing to you? is he treating you badly?"

you want to tell her yes, you want to fall into her arms and just cry. all you want is to spill all your feelings out right now, to scream and scream over and over again, but you can't. you didn't want chris' reputation to go down the gutter, you really didn't want anything bad to happen to him, even if he did treat you like garbage. even if he treated you like actual shit, you still wanted a happy life for him, he was the one person who showed you love. the first person who actually cared for you.

but, as the years went by, he just... chris just drifted away, he got too caught up into fame, money, and girls especially. girls who weren't you and girls that looked completely different, it was like you weren't even alive most of the time. he treated you like you weren't his girlfriend.

"no, it's not him," another sad smile, and your voice almost cracks as more bad thoughts come to mind, "it's never chris."

tara notices the subtle change of tone, and only then does she reach her free hand out to rest on your shoulder. the bar stools were close enough together that your knees touched, and tara only pulled you closer to her. when you were finally in her arms, you let out a shaky sigh.

then, she hears you whimper. and now you're full-on sobbing into her shoulder, tears streaking down your face as you cry quietly. your body trembles, and you feel as if you let your of your best friend, you'll fall and never be able to get back up.

her hand comes up behind your back, rubbing it in a comforting way as she coos gentle things into your ear, her other hand coming up to your hair and stroking your h/c locks softly, "i know, i know, babe. just let it out, i'm here, okay?"

tara can't help but frown at your saddened state, eyes shutting closed as she continues to comfort you. her lips part again, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you as the words leave her mouth, "you can stay with me for tonight, and for however long you need."

"give me a day or two to think of something clever,

to write myself a letter

to tell me what to do..."

the only sounds in the room are your gentle breathing, and the loud screaming of chris on the other end of the phone. your index finger is wedged between your teeth as you bite down on your nail nervously, your eyes darted around, not knowing where to stay as you listened in to your boyfriend.

"where the fuck were you last night, y/n?" chris tries to contain himself, and you can hear his footsteps pacing back and forth on the hardwood floors of your shared bedroom, "why didn't you come home, i—y/n, what were you doing and where are you right now?"

a shaky breath leaves your lips, and you finally let your hand swing back to the side of your body, gripping the phone tighter, "i'm at taras house, chris. i just—i'm gonna be honest, and please don't get mad—i just need a few days away from... you."

you hear chris scoff on the other end, and you begin to speak again before he starts to blow up, "well, not you, specifically," yes, it was indeed him specifically, "i just wanted to get out of the house for a little... maybe a day or two, and then i'll be back, okay?"

"i knew when i asked you to

be cool about what i was telling you,

you'd do the opposite of what you said you'd do..."

you both knew chris wouldn't care, he didn't give a single fuck if you weren't around, but for more than 24 hours? that's where he drew the line because he knew that when you were around your sensible, smart friends, you would make bad good decisions. you would make decisions that would effect yours and his relationship, and he didn't want that because he needed to have somebody under his control.

he hated the idea of having no control. even if it was only one person her could control, he still had it, he still had somebody wrapped around his finger that he could get to do whatever he pleased.

"wha—y/n, what?" chris sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, "the fuck do you mean? you're coming home tonight, and if you don't i—"

"and i'd end up more afraid..."

chris cut himself off as he began to think. he shouldn't worry about you. fuck your friends, he would always find a way to get you back, so why was he begging you to get home?

a sigh was heard from behind the phone, and you raised an eyebrow in confusion, "nevermind, whatever, go fuck around. see you. bye."

then, the three beeps sounded in your ear. you scoffed, your heart aching at the fact that he didn't even he loved you. he always told you he loved you before he hung up... until a few months ago. you didn't know what went wrong, or where along the line something broke your bond. nothing happened that you could really remember.

"bye." you whispered, shutting your phone off and throwing it on the guest bed before you fell onto your back and landed on the silk sheets. a loud, exaggerated sigh left your lips as you dragged your hands down your face in frustration.

what was this boy doing to you? and why were you letting him do it? you didn't know how to answer the first question, but you had an idea for the second. maybe you liked the thrill.. or maybe you were just hanging on so tight you could never let go. if you let him go, the indentation of that metaphorical rope would still be there... and you'd have to live with the memory of chris. you could never live with yourself knowing you possibly hurt him.

"you clearly weren't aware that you made me miserable..."

but then again, if you let it go, the marks would fade soon, and then you wouldn't have anything to remember. it wouldn't be a constant reminder of chris and how he treated you. so, maybe you just had to let go and take your time to heal, hang around the right people or maybe even just take time for yourself.

a knock, and then two. you opened your eyes, sitting up and being met with the sight of tara leaning against the doorframe, "hey, can i come in?" you nod quickly, needing the distraction to get your mind off of chris.

you didn't even realize her moving closer until you felt the bed dip beside you, your head turning to meet taras eyes as you smiled softly. she returned the same smile, and then began to speak, "how are you feeling?"

no words came out of your mouth for a few moments as you tried to gather up all your emotions and try to put them into one word. but how could you if you were feeling almost all of them?

"i don't know." your voice was quiet, shy almost as you looked down at your lap. tara stayed quiet, letting you think for a moment as she stared at the side of your face, "i feel... angry, sad. gosh, i feel everything and i can't even fucking explain it, it's just so—"

a hand on your shoulder made you relax, and you stopped mid-sentence as tara rubbed your shoulder softly. your mouth shut, and you turned your head to look at her again, "you don't have to feel anything yet, y/n. i'm not gonna tell you to calm down because i would be livid if somebody said that to me, so, i'll just tell you this..."

"close your eyes and take deep breaths. take a moment to gather your thoughts, and then talk to me, okay?" her voice was gentle, quiet, and comforting. the mix of her touch made your entire body relax, and you smiled at her.

you nodded, turning your head back to face in front of you and then closing your eyes. inhale through your nose, count to 3, then exhale through your mouth. inhale, count to 3, exhale. over and over again until you were finally put back together, mostly. one final deep breath, and your eyes were open again. you turned back to your best friend, and she just smiled at you.

"i feel like shit, tar," your voice threatens to crack, but you don't let it, taking another deep breath before you begin to speak again, "this entire thing with chris... fuck, it's just so exhausting and it makes me feel horrible. i'm just chasing after him constantly, seeking his approval only to get disappointment and anger from him. it's like he doesn't even care about me, tara.."

you finally crack, and tears begin to well up in your eyes as you sniffle. tara frowns, squeezing your shoulder softly as she sees your state, "he doesn't deserve you, hon, seriously. i see the way you look at him, and he just gives you nothing in return. he treats you so horribly, i can't even—fuck. you just need to let him go, babe. and i know, it's gonna be so fucking hard at first, but you just have to push through that,"

"i'll be here the entire way through. you know i always have your back, even when you're in the wrong sometimes," you both chuckle at her small joke, "you deserve so much better than that dick, and i'm not just gonna sit here and watch from afar as he continues to break you down. you're gonna get through this, and i'm gonna make you forget he was even born."

you giggle at her choice of words, but you know what she's saying is right and that you need to listen to her, "okay."

tara smiles at you again, "okay. well, tomorrow we plan, and in the upcoming days we bring this fucker down."

your eyes widen and you put your palms up, shaking them in a protest, "woah, okay, we're not bringing anybody down, we're just getting me out of this hell-hole he put me in. is that clear?"

the shorter girl shrugs, a mischievous smile on her face, "same thing."

the phone buzzes on your nightstand, and you lean over to see who it is. chris' name pops up in bold letters at the top, his contact picture smiling brightly at you as he gives a thumbs up.

you came home just this morning, deciding that you would be fine to stay with chris for a little longer. you didn't want tara to deal with your shit. she didn't deserve to be wrapped up in this whole thing, and you didn't want to be seen a bad friend.

"hello?" you mutter, sitting back against the headboard as you cross your legs, preparing yourself for whatever stupid shit your boyfriend would say this time.

you didn't even know why he was calling. it was late at night, and he never called you. well, unless it was for a favor or something stupid. wasn't he supposed to be at a party with his "friends?"

chris giggles behind the phone, a dumb smile on his face as he stares at your through the screen. his hair is messy and his eyes are insanely red. was he seriously high right now? "hi—hey, y/n/n,"

"you call me again, drunk in your benz,

driving home under the influence..."

you gave him a smile, your eyebrow raising in confusion as you start to speak, but he cuts you off, "okay, i know what you're gonna ask, and don't worry, i'm calling you for—uh.. a good reason, mm'kay?"

"chris you're fucking high, don't lie to me." you sigh, squinting your eyes to see where he's at. it was dark, but you could make out that he was in his car. there was an open beer can in his cup holder, and only then did the realization hit you, "chris, what—christopher! what is that?"

the brunette looks down beside him, and he takes one hand off the wheel to grab the half-empty can, "it's beer, duh." he giggles, and you watch as he takes a sip of it before putting both hands back onto the steering wheel, "don't worry 'bout it, mamas."

"you scared me to death, but i'm wasting my breath,

'cause you only listen to your fucking friends..."

your eyes widen, and you furrow your eyebrows as a wave of—god knows what—washes over you, "chris, what the fuck do you mean 'don't worry about it?' you're driving drunk, you idiot!"

chris giggles at your outburst, eyes trained on the dark, empty streets of los angeles. he turns the wheel back and forth, driving a little over the speed limit just to get you on your toes. it works, and you swear you feel your heart stop. you don't even know what to say. you want to curse him out, gosh, you want to scream at the top of your fucking lungs but you know that'll only give him the satisfaction he wants.

how could you stay calm, though? he was pushing you so hard, you were bound to fall and break, "CHRIS! what the fuck—stop driving like you're fucking stupid, get off the road."

he doesn't listen, though, and you watch as he ponders his choices. he could either do what you say, continue to mess with you, or really test your patience. he smiles deviously and goes with the third option, "hm, there's a lot of mud over here, y'know?"

you don't even know how but your eyes widen more, breath catching as you squeeze your phone in your hands. your mouth is agape, and you feel tears prick in your eyes as his phone starts to shake. the car is moving faster now, and chris is grunting softly as he makes a wildly sharp turn, "chris!"

the phone falls to the passenger seat with a quiet thud, and chris screams loudly. you can't see him anymore. all you're met with is a black screen. a quiet sobs leaves your throat, and your eyes dart around the empty to screen for something, anything. did you just lose your boyfriend?

another cry, and now you're sobbing your heart out as you try to breathe properly. your free hand comes up to clutch the fabric of your shirt, trying to ground yourself as you make an effort to speak, "wha—no, no, no... chris?"

nothing but silence and the quiet hum of the car engine, not that you can hear it over the volume of your breathing. you can't even speak anymore, so shocked to the point that you freeze in fear. how were you gonna explain this to matt and chris? how were you gonna tell them that you could've stopped this from happening? how could you?

your heart aches, and your mind runs wild with all the questions that you'll have to answer. where is he? what happened? why did he do it? why weren't you there? why couldn't you help him? what the fuck is wrong with you? so many questions that you didn't have any answers for, "chris, please—i can't... fuck, i can't—"

laughing. he's laughing. wait, he's laughing? your eyes widen again, and you gasp, "oh my gosh, chris. chris oh my fucking—are you okay?"

he still laughs even as he grabs the phone, and as you finally see him, there's nothing wrong with the boy at all. there's no cuts, no broken glass or skin, no blood. you're grateful, but also confused. your mind wanders to endless possibilities, and you land on one you pray isn't true.

"oh my gosh, you should see your face right now!" he smiles, throwing his head back against the seat as he holds his stomach, "i got you so fucking good, hah! look at you, you're even crying."

and you were right. anger and disgust are clearly shown on your face now, and more tears begin to run down your cheeks, "what?"

why was this funny to him? was he seriously that fucked up to joke about literal death? chris just continues to cackle, "it's a prank, baby. now, calm down, don't start throwing a fit."

"i don't relate to you,

i don't relate to you, no."

you can't even describe how betrayed and angry you feel right now. maybe you were keen to the idea of bringing him down. no other girl should have to deal with his bullshit. you scoff, a bewildered smile on your face as you begin to speak.

"calm down? you're telling me to calm down, chris?" your smile fades as you continue, eyes darting all around his face through the phone screen, "you are so fucked up. you're brain is so fucked up, chris! what the hell is wrong with you?!"

chris just rolls his eyes, huffing quietly as he steps on the gas again. he tries shutting you out, but with how loud you're being, he really can't, "it's not even that big of a deal. not my fault you're always so sensitive, grow up!" he raises his voice, eyes on yours through the phone.

you couldn't believe this was the boy you once loved, screaming at you and telling you that you're the sensitive one, "i'm sensitive? you're getting mad at me for something you did, you asshole!" you yell, voice cracking at the end of your sentence.

chris groans, eyes squeezing shut as he slams on the breaks and punches the steering wheel several times. the horn beeps loudly, startling you for a quick second before you get used to it, "would you shut you're god damn mouth?! all you do is fucking cry and whine about everything!"

"yeah, i wonder why?" you scoff, not even giving him a chance to speak before you hang up the phone and let your hand fall to the side. you just want to throw the device at the wall, let all your anger out on something. on someone.

"'cause i'd never treat me this shitty.

you made me hate this city!"

"gosh, you are so insufferable!" chris yells, hands running through his hair before he tugs on it harshly. he turns his back to you, walking away a few steps before turning back, "what is your problem with me, y/n?"

your cross your arms over one another, letting your head tilt to the side as you take a step forward, "my problem is that you don't do shit for us, chris. you don't even try to keep our relationship running. i'm the only one who does, and you don't even care, do you?"

"you can't even look me in the eyes anymore. you aren't the boy i once knew, and i don't think you'll ever go back to him. you make me feel like shit every single day, chris!" you sigh, tears threatening to spill from your eyes again, "i can't do this anymore if you're not gonna love me like i love you. i'm not gonna deal with your problems anymore!"

chris stays silent, head pounding from all the stress and the alcohol he had earlier, "you'll come back."

you let your arms flail to the sides before coming up to rub at your temples, eyes fluttering shut as you sigh, "that. that's what makes me feel so... angry."

"you never listen! and you always think the odds will turn out in your favor, but they won't. that's not how life works, and we both know that. you just make it seem like you hate—" chris groans at your words, opening his mouth to speak, no, yell.

"like, i hate you? yeah, well, maybe i do, y/n!" chris' eyes are wide, and he looks like a rabid animal as he steps closer to you, "have you ever thought of that, or are you too in love to see it? god, i despise you!" it's not true, and he knows that. you know that.

"then why do you still call me baby and mamas? why do you even bother coming home each week and lying in bed next to me, huh?" a sigh leaves your trembling lips, and you finally look up at him, "you can act like you hate me, but you don't. you just want that power. you want me to come crawling back to you tomorrow."

"never told anyone anything bad.

'cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything

and all that you did was make me fucking sad!"

"don't waste my time, chris, i don't need you to come at me for something that isn't my fault. i'm over it!" you yell, and then you feel the rain.

it beats down on both you and chris as you stand in silence for a few moments, taking in the tense atmosphere as you stare chris down and he stares at the ground. he really was the pathetic one, and he had the audacity to call you that?

you can't even tell if the droplets running down your face are tears or just water from the rain, but you don't care about that, all you care about is getting an explanation from chris as to why he was doing all this to you.

he huffs, and then you begin to yell over the hard rainfall again, "so, why? why are you doing this to me, chris?! why even waste your own time on me when you could be fucking other girls?"

"you don't even need me, so why?" you cry out, clutching your now soaked t-shirt, "what's the point, huh?"

chris finally looks into your eyes, and now you can see his lower lip tremble and tears in his blue eyes, "because you're the only one who actually cares about me." it's fake. he's done this before, and now you're actually aware of how many times he's guilt-tripped you like this.

you shake your head, running a hand through your wet hair to get it out of your face. you weren't a kid anymore, and he should know better than not to try this stupid again, but he still does. the first time he did this, it resulted in shutting out both your mom and boy best friend, and then it continued. every other time this happened it always resulted in throwing someone out of your life, but not this time.

"don't try to make me feel sorry for you, chris!" you scream, and now you don't even care if the neighborhood hears. you needed to let these screams out or they would build up until you broke, resulting in you lashing out on someone, "gosh, i fucking hate you for doing this to me! you ruined me, christopher!"

chris looks down again, and now he feels the shame coming down on him, "fucking look at me!" but he doesn't, he keeps his head down and kicks a nearby rock.

you don't feel bad anymore because you know he deserves it. he lets you scream at him because he knows he deserves it. neither of you was in the right headspace in that moment, but you both didn't care. chris would forget in a few days, and you wouldn't. how could you forget after 4 years of this?

the brunette takes a few steps forward, hands reaching out to cup your face, and you huff angrily. your hands are on his chest the moment he's in your face, and you shove him back harshly.

"you ruined everything good,

always said you were misunderstood,

made all my moments your own..."

"just fucking leave me alone!" you scream louder than before, and chris takes a step back with wide eyes. his eyes are finally making contact with yours, and he sees all of the emotions in them now.

the rain seems harder now, and chris wipes his face with the back of his hand as he steps back to his spot, staring at you from afar as he watches you breathe heavily and cry. you've been waiting to get those screams out, chris knew that well. he knew that he treated you poorly, but he... didn't care, actually. he had the world in his hands and he could replace you in an instant, so why did it hurt just that little bit?

tears are now running down his cheeks, and he sniffles as he looks away. he wasn't gonna let you see him when he was the most vulnerable. he couldn't. chris just sighed shakily as he looked back down at the ground again, tucking his hands into his soaked pockets.

you're still staring at him, and when you hear him chuckle quietly, you furrow your eyebrows. he walks away.

"yeah, go try to find someone better than me, bitch!" he yells over the rain and then jumps into his car, quickly backing out of the driveway and sleeping down the road.

you feel like you're suffocating as you watch him leave, and you swear your knees will give out if you don't move or do something. how could he leave after that? how could he leave after he told you that you were the only person who cared about him? if it was true, he wouldn't have left. if anything he said was true, he would've stayed and comforted you, he would've tried to bring this relationship back into the light. but he didn't because it was never true.

your lips parted, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you screamed again. your throat would definitely be sore in the morning, but who cared right now? you needed this, and you weren't gonna let it boil over until you took your anger out on someone who hadn't done anything. you didn't want to turn out like chris did.

@livialifesblog

[sawyerslvt]

Bubba's First Time (Leatherface- TCM)

Summary: You get kidnapped by Johnny Slaughter at a bar and he brings you home to kill you. Leatherface ends up protecting you. To express your gratitude, you let him use you for his pleasure.  Word Count: 4,105 Warnings: MDNI, coercion, rough sex, smut

You’re screaming, flailing your arms around and fighting for your life as you get pulled inside the house. It was the dead of night and your kidnapper drove a long way to get here. You know your screams get lost in the darkness of the night, with not a soul nearby to hear your pleading cries. 

“I found me a real pretty one huh, old man?”. The man is speaking to an older man. “Quit your playing round’ boy! Get it over with, supper's ready”. The old man doesn't seem amused and you're yanked away towards a staircase leading to a basement. Before the man forces you down the steps, your eyes get drawn to a room. It had a dining table in the middle, food already placed and ready on the table. In one of the chairs sat a large man. He wore a strange looking mask, both elbows on the edge of the table with cutlery in each hand, ready to dig into his meal. You manage to make eye contact with him, knowing there is not much he could do for you. For all you knew, he could be a fate worse than what you were about to face in this basement. 

You look at him with your tearfilled, makeup smeared and terrified face.  With the short seconds you got to share with the beast, you noticed a strange look on his face. His face looked softened, his muscles relaxed and his eyes looked intrigued by your desperate state. He tilts his head and you can't help but feed yourself delusions, was it pity… or sympathy? 

The man tugs at you and you lose sight of the beast, hidden behind the walls. While being dragged down the stairs, his face was scarred into your mind. Your cries get more frantic, movements more hysterical but the man doesn't budge and you're met with a heavy slide door that leads down to the basement. 

Not much time passes before you're hooked with your tied wrists to the ceiling. “Stay still. This will only hurt for a minute”, the man wears a smug smirk and his voice has hints of mockery. You can tell this amuses him. You've run dry on tears and energy to fight back, so your response to his demand was a mere defeated bow of the head. The man lifts his knife to your throat but before he is able to slice, the same slide door reopens and the beast is stood by the entrance. 

“I'm almost done here, boy. I'll be up in a second”, his voice now irritated by the interruption. The beast takes heavy and confident stomps towards the two of you while letting out deep grunts. He halts in front of the man, still holding a knife to your throat. He finally lowers his knife and you feel it nick you, drawing some blood. “What's the matter with you, boy?!” the man snaps. The beast gets closer to him as if to intimidate him, or at the very least, making himself clear of his intentions without using his words. He gets in front of your hanging body, blocking and getting between you and the man wanting to kill you. “Oh I see, you want her to yourself?”. The beast nods and you're confused by the strange interaction. Other than the weird display and protection from the beast, you're left feeling eternally thankful for him saving your life. You're not sure how long the luck will last but for the moment, you let out a sigh of relief. 

“I'll leave for you to take care of her after dinner. Let's go before the old man makes a fuss”. The man heads up the stairs but before the brute follows along, he walks over to you. He is looking up at your exhausted expression and you manage to make eye contact. He was wearing the same expression from earlier… It was kind. He lays his large hands on either side of your waist and unhooks you from the ceiling. Although he had rough and large hands, his touch was soft and movement gentle. He slowly brings you down to the floor and you feel like a feather the way your feet were carefully placed onto the cold stone surface.

He continues holding your waist while you're drowned into each other's eyes. “...thank you”. You finally break the silence. Your voice is soft and quiet, like the squeak of a mouse. He lets out a low grunt and to your surprise pulls you in for a hug. Your eyes widen at the suddenness of it all, he didn't say anything, he keeps you in his arms and gives you a squeeze almost as an apology for what you've been through. That's how you interpreted it, and you let him hold you as you’re absorbing his warm apology. All too soon, his warmth is gone and as he walks away and shuts the sliding door behind him. You're left missing his touch.

After what felt like ages, you hear the sliding door open back up and your heart skips a beat, scared it might be your kidnapper. You feel a wave of relief hit as you’re met with the large figure of the gentle giant. You hadn't moved much since he had left. With your time in solitude, you were thinking of ways you could thank him and as the man was walking towards you, your thoughts grew wilder. You’re sitting on your feet with your hands on your thighs, looking up at him towering over you. You look like a dog greeting its owner. As if he read your mind, he rests one of his large hands on your head, petting you as he admires your beauty. You lean into his touch and it feels good to feel something other than fear For once, you feel safe.

You slowly make your way back on your feet, all while never breaking the alluring eye contact. Your hands travel up his body as you stand up but his body seems somewhat stiff, confused- but not complaining. “I wanted to thank you for saving my life”. Your voice is sensual and very suggestive. As your hands make your way to his big bulge, you feel him get stiffer but this time he also pulls away with a disapproving groan. He looks down and shakes his head slightly. "It's okay… I just want to express my gratitude”. Your voice is gentle as you reach for his bulge again, now growing due to your touch. Once again he hesitates and pulls away with the same disapproving grunt. 

The room you're in had a mattress leaned up against the wall. It had some signs of usage in the form of mysterious spots and holes, but given your situation, you didn't think too much of it. You pull on it, making it fall to the ground with a thud, letting some dirt and dust fly into the air. The giant watches you curiously as you prop its edges parallel to the wall. You turn around and watch him still standing behind you. You scoot over to sit on the mattress with your back leaned against the wall, hands resting on either side of you. You look up at him as you tilt your head and smirk slightly. You’re spreading your legs slowly, letting your skirt reveal your panties to the man in front of you. He looks completely stunned but you can tell he doesn't want you to stop what you're doing. “Just watch me then”. Your words escape you somewhat desperately as your attraction to the beast grows like an uncontrollable virus.

You let your hand find its way to your aching clit over your already soaked panties. You slide your panties off of you and leave your wet slit exposed to the air. You feel your spine arch and head shoot back as your fingers come in contact with your nub. You start to slowly rub your clit and move your hips in circles while making sure your legs stay spread for the man to have the best view possible. As you pleasure yourself, you have your eyes shut focusing on the stimulation, until you hear the man grunt and move around. You bring your head back and see him kneeled down at the end of the mattress. He continues letting deep groans escape his throat and he inches closer to you on all fours, slowly, and without breaking eye contact. You watch as the giant is moving towards you, his big body casting a dark shadow over you, making you feel smaller than you've ever felt. His eyes narrowed like he was finally seeing you as the prey you were meant to be. You rub your clit harder, as the view of him in this position made it impossible to tame your wild mind. 

He stops right in front of you as he watches you pleasure yourself, licking his lips as if he was tasting your sweet pussy. You can't handle his lack of action so you grab his hand. He's confused by your touch but curious about you, allowing you to hold it. You hold onto his hand and start pulling it down to your pussy. You feel him protest and pull back again. "It's okay… you saw how I did it? Just do as I showed you and you’ll be fine” you try convincing and swaying his opinion with your gentle and sensual voice. You pull his hand but once again, he tries pulling away. “Look, I'll help you. Just please… I want you to touch me”, your voice is desperate and you want his long and thick fingers to fill your tight pussy. 

You consider him defeated as you feel his hand soften. You pull his hands towards your sensitive cunt for the third time and this time he allows you. You wrap your whole hand around his middle and index finger. His hands were so big and that's all you could really fit in your small grasp. You bring his hand closer until you feel his rough fingertips come in contact with your clit. Both of you let out a gasp as a result of the contact. You use his fingers to rub your nub and fuck, it felt so much better than your own fingers. You continue rubbing harder and faster and the beast's wonderful grunts fill your ears as if he was feeling pleasure himself. 

Without any direction from you, the beast unexpectedly pushes his index and middle finger into your hole. You let out a loud moan, making your own ears bleed. He doesn't understand what he's done but your reaction was something he was starting to get addicted to. He pulls his fingers back out and you hold his wrists, pulling on them to let him know that you wanted more. He pushes them back in, this time a little harder and you let out the same moan. You feel as the beast goes from hesitant and held back to him becoming progressively hungrier in his movements. He forces his big fingers into your hole, abusing it and you encourage him with your hysteric cries. He sees your white cream coat his fingers, confused by it, he brings it to his mouth and tastes your juices. You see his eyes widen as he's tasting you, licking his fingers clean before sticking them back into you to coat his fingers again, then licking them clean again.

He continues doing this many times until he realizes the best way to get the most of you was to bring his mouth to it. And that's exactly what he does, he lets his mouth find your pussy and immediately starts licking. He starts by giving you small licks, but the more he tastes you, the bigger the licks get. Until he finally started sucking as much of the juice as he could. He uses his hands to spread your pussy lips and sees your red and swollen clit stand out. Curious by it, he sucks on it and hears as your moans get as intense as ever. You grab his hair with both your hands and pull a little. That was all the signs he needed, now he was laser-focusing on your clit. He’s obsessed with your reactions and he sucks hard, he licks fast and sucks even more. “ff-ffuck mm gonna cum, please”. Your words escape in a broken scream but the beast doesn't stop. You feel your walls tighten and you cum in his mouth. He shows no signs of stopping and once he sees even more white cream leak out of your pussy, he licks it all clean. He shoves his tongue as deep as he can to taste as much of your sweet pussy as possible. You taste so good, he could never get enough and you moan loud as his tongue explores the inside of your sensitive hole.  

His mouth is killing you. The air is heavy and the scent of your wet cunt is filling the room, making him lick his lips again. Once he calms down you pull away from him, knowing he could stay between your legs for hours. You position yourself to sit back on your feet. You touch his bulge again and he watches you, giving you groans of approval. You start stroking the outside of his pants. He was already hard but you could tell it wasnt to its full potential, yet it felt massive. You subconsciously take a gulp, anticipating and preparing yourself for his big size as you pull his pants and underwear down at the same time. 

When his cock was fully exposed to you, you found yourself floored by his enormous size. Not only was it long, but the real shock was the thickness and girth of it. You've never seen anything comparable, just staring at it made your pussy throb. You can tell he’s fully confused by what you're doing, he has no idea about the purpose of the thing between his legs. “I wont touch it if you don't want me to. But can I please watch as you stroke it?”. Your plea is desperate and you're begging the gods above to have him accept your prayer. He looks down and a deep grunt escapes his throat and you can tell he’s confused by your request. He looks into your eyes as if to say ‘how?’ and you let a small giggle escape your lips. Has he really never done it before? 

“Alright big boy, I'll show you how”. You give him a comforting smile, showing that you're not judging him. If anything, this made it even better. You grab one of his hands again and wrap it around his own dick. You see him grasping his cock and you can't help but bite your lip, being presented with the sight of his big hand wrapped around his big cock. You hold his hand with both of your hands and start to slowly stroke alongside his shaft, up and down. The skin on his cock moving with your rhythm, massaging his member. He looks into your eyes and his breathing gets heavy. Once he gets into the rhythm you created for him, you let go all together. 

He continues stroking his cock, up and down, just like you showed him. “There you go, honey”. You see his eyes narrow and fill with hunger. He starts experimenting with different speeds at his own pace and you feel proud of him. You lean back towards the wall and spread your legs. You lick your fingers while looking into his eyes and bring your fingers back to your aching clit. You resume playing with your pussy and for the moment you sit in front of each other, both of you pleasuring yourselves as you watch each other. The beast gets more and more aggressive, the new sensation had him hooked and his movements were desperate. As he’s breathlessly stroking his cock, you grab his wrist with your hand, canceling his motion. He looks at you with lust filled eyes, excited for your next move. 

You remove his hand from his dick and replace it with both your hands. You squeeze it in between your hands and admire his full size, it was beautiful but intimidating. You're stroking his cock and you feel it twitch as you move up and down, twisting, pulling and massaging it. Occasionally, you let your soft fingers circle around his tip, giving him an unreal sensation. The beast lets out groans like you've never heard before… but you weren't done here. You feel your aching and neglected cunt scream and beg to be filled. You decide it's time to finally give her what she wanted. 

You pull on his shirt and direct his back to lay against the wall. You spread your legs and hover your opening over his cock as you rest your hands on his broad and strong shoulders. He holds your waist with both hands as he watches you grab his cock and align it with your entrance. Without giving him any time to prepare for you, you sink down on his cock. Both of you release loud gasps as you’re shocked by how well his tip alone filled you, and as he feels your warm and slippery insides. You don't go all the way down, you can't go all the way down but you continue bouncing up and down his tip, getting yourself wetter and slowly stretching yourself out for him. He lets out deep groans and you love how he's letting you know exactly how he feels. As you let your entrance play with his tip you take off your shirt. He looks at your tits and you see his eyes widen. You giggle a little to yourself and guide both his hands to play with your nipples. He gets the hang of it immediately and squeezes and pulls on your nipples. He didn't know what it felt like to you but by the way you moaned louder, he knew he had to continue doing it. 

You hear the brute let out a frustrated groan, he's growing impatient with you teasing his tip and wanting to feel you all through his length. You let out a loud moan, bordering on a scream and he forces you to sit on his cock. You look into his eyes with your mouth agape, surprised by his action. You're not nearly ready for his full length and girth but he doesn't care. He pushes you all the way on his cock, forcing himself deep inside you. You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head and you go silent for a moment, trying to adjust to his size. He slowly pulls out, veeerryyy sloowwwllyyy and you feel every single inch of him as he's exiting your tight little pussy. With only a small bit of his tip still inside you, he thrusts back into you, hard and quick. You let out another scream and he lets out a deep grunt. 

After a couple pumps, he starts getting more consistent and regular with his thrusts. You're amazed by how naturally it came to him. You’re hovering over him and he forcefully bucks his hips into you, sliding in and out as the sounds of skin slapping echoes in the empty basement. “fuckkk, just like that. You're doing so good”, your voice is weak and breathless but he had to know how good this felt, how good he felt. He lets his hips rest back on the mattress and you sit all the way down on his dick. You feel full of him, his girth pressing against your tight insides. You move around a little and cup his face with your hands. He's still wearing that mask but all you see are his stunning eyes and beautiful lips. You can tell they're soft. 

As his cock is buried deep inside you, you lean in and kiss him. He's shocked and doesn't know what to do. He keeps his eyes open as he kisses you, but after seeing your closed eyes, he shuts them as well. He places his hands on your hips, squeezing it, feeling your tight pussy throb around his cock. He gets into the rhythm and you feel each other’s soft lips play with each other. You press into his face while still cupping it, your kiss gets increasingly more desperate as you start sliding up and down on his cock again. You continue riding his dick at a brutal pace, going faster and harder by the second. He helps you by pushing you down further everytime you bounce back up. You introduce your tongue to his mouth and he welcomes it, sucking and swirling it around his mouth. 

You break the kiss and press your forehead to his, not slowing down from the bouncing on his cock. “I'm so proud of you, big boy”. You smile and you look down on the base of his shaft being completely drenched with your pussy juice, and his cock pounding in and out of your soaked cunt. The pitch black hair around his balls being white because of your white cream coating it. The wet and sloppy sounds of his dick thrusting in you is filling the room, you're surprised by how it's still audible over both of your moaning, screaming and panting. The way he's pounding into you makes you question his virginity, you don't believe it, there is no way. His eyes are too confident, his thrusts are too perfect and his dick is way too good. 

He lifts you up from his cock and it makes a quiet ‘pop’ sound as his dick gets released from your pussy’s tight grip. He lays you down on the mattress and climbs on top of you. You can tell that he now knows what sex is, he knows exactly how to do it and you smile to yourself thinking of how the student has become the teacher. He slides his hands under your knee crease and let your legs fall over his broad shoulders. This way, he had a perfect view of your face as he pounds into you. He aligns his cock with your entrance and gives you a quick peck on the lips to prepare you for his cock. You smile at him, letting him know you're ready and you feel like you're about to burst. Every second without his cock inside you, was a second too long. 

The beast didn't believe in slow and steady. He wanted rough and hard and that's exactly how he entered you. As he forces his cock into you, you're shocked by how much deeper he could get from this position. You didn't know the female body could have something this deep inside her but you learn something new everyday… You lay your hands on his chest as he pounds into you and you feel your walls tighten. “F-fucckkk…I-mmm… Imma cum!!!” You can hardly breathe, let alone talk as he's deep inside you. He's making up for years of not feeling this sensation. He’s furious this feeling has been kept from him and he's channeling all that frustration into drilling his cock harder into you. You feel his cock twitch and you can tell he’s close as well. Even though he doesn't say it, you're slowly learning what his different grunts mean. The ones he's letting out right now definitely meant ‘I’m gonna cum in your tight pussy’. 

He lets out one last deep groan as he fills your pussy with his warm liquid. Continuing to pump into you to empty every single drop of himself. You moan so loud, it made your head spin and feeling his cum shoot deep inside you was a feeling unlike anything you've felt before. He slowly pulls out and you feel as the mixture of both your cum is leaking out of your abused hole. He watches as you squirm and shake from the trauma of the intense pleasure. 

He lays down next to you and you get on top of him, resting your ear to his chest, listening to his fast and irregular heartbeat. You hug his massive body and close your eyes. You lay in silence for a while, catching your breaths and soaking in each other's presence. You look up at him, giving him a passionate and soft kiss. “Thank you for saving my life”. 

credit for dividers: @y-onb @animatedglittergraphics-n-more @roseschoices <3

[mangosrar]

let the light in.

matt sturniolo x fem reader.

an: i lowk hate this 🤓 also not proof read and the ending is ass.

warnings: none really just sad matt but it’s a happy ending 🤍

matt was prone to shutting you out due to his mental health. he had done it multiple times before, usually you gave him a few days to cool off and things went back to normal, but this time it was different. your boyfriend had blew up on you about a week ago and told you to leave him the fuck alone. so following normal procedure, you left his house and didn't bother him until 2 days later. under normal circumstances he would invite you over, talk it out with you and things would go back to normal but this time wasn't like that. you had reached out to him multiple times with no response, you even spoke to his brothers who told you they didn't know what to do. they advise you just let him figure it out, but you couldn't just sit around while matt was suffering, so you went over to his place, upon nicks request after agreeing with you.

"hey y/n" Chris said as he engulfed you in a hug after letting you in the house. you hugged him back and made your way upstairs to be greeted with nick.

"im so glad you're here, he hasn't came out of his room in like 3 days, he hasn't eaten or talked to either of us" he hugged you.

"Jesus, i mean i can try and get through to him but i don't know how much help ill be" you frowned.

"its worth a shot" Chris said before you sighed and made your way to matts bedroom door.

you took a deep breath and closed your eyes before knocking.

"hey matt, its me. can i come in?" no reply.

you looked over to Chris and nick, watching you from the living room and they motioned for you to walk in with their hands. you nodded before opening the door and going in.

his room was a mess, laundry all over the floor, his desk covered in paperwork that hadn't been done and his dresser looked like it had seen better days.

matt lay in bed, wrapped in his sheets with his back to you. you started walking round his bed towards him before he spoke, stopping you in your tracks.

"i don't want to hear it y/n. i don't want you here so leave" his voice sounded raspy and tired. you couldn't help but feel a sting from his words. usually matt never wanted to be away from you, hell, he would attach himself to you if he could.

"matt come on, lets just talk" you didn't move from your standing position at the end of his bed. matt let out a heavy sigh before aggressively throwing the covers off of himself and standing up and walking towards you.

"talk about what? how you fucking pity me huh? how im being selfish and im hurting people around me? no, fuck you and your fucking sympathy i don't want it" his voice was raised and he was slightly leaning down, yelling in your face. his eyes were drooped and the bags under them were deep and dark, his face looked sunken in and pale. you were taken back by his words. never once had your boyfriend spoken to you like this.

you opened your mouth to speak but before you could even get a word in, he barged past you, flinging his bedroom door open before making his way into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it shut. you took a moment to take a deep breath, looking down at your feet, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill. after re-collecting yourself you made your way to his bathroom door trying to open it.

"matt open the door please" silence.

"matt open the fucking door" no reply.

"matt open the fucking door or i swear to god im going to walk out of this house and were over. you cannot keep doing this to me" nothing but the snap of the door unlocking was heard. you immediately walked in to find matt on the floor, slumped against the cabinet, elbows resting on his bent knees, with his head in his hands. you closed the door and sat down next to him on the floor.

"oh matt" you whispered as the tears started to roll down your face too. every ounce of anger that had occurred in you from him walking away, had dispersed instantly. you placed a small hand on the back of his head and gently pulled him to lean on you. he immediately wrapped his arms around your middle and put all of his weight on you, so terrified that you would disappear if he didn't hold you close enough.

"im sorry. i don't know what's wrong with me y/n, i cant make it stop" his voice was broken and slightly muffled.

"you don't need to be sorry matt because there's nothing wrong with you, nothing at all. you just have to talk to us" you pursed your lips together and looked up to the ceiling, while running your hand over his hair soothingly, desperately trying to stop the tears that were cascading down your cheeks.

"i cant because i-... i don't want to scare you away and i don't want to have to burden you with all this shit, you don't deserve that. this is my problem and i have to deal with it myself" he cried harder than before, tightening his grip around you. you immediately put your hands on both sides of his face, pulling his head up so he was eye level with you.

"don't ever say that, you're not going to scare me away. i love you and you're not a burden honey, i promise, you're my life line matt. you don't deserve this either okay? no one does, but its better to deal with it together than alone, this is what im here for, you're supposed to lean on me when you cant handle it. always okay?" at this point you were both full on sobbing. you couldn't understand how he could ever think that, he was your everything. every sun and moon you saw belonged to him. every single living breath you took was his. every single story you ever told had him disguised in it somehow. there was not a single day that passed that wasn't all about him.

"okay" his voice was quiet as he nodded. you followed his movements and nodded with him, searching his eyes for any sort of doubt in your words, you found nothing.

"i love you" he rested his forehead on yours as you spoke, breathing deeply, trying to silence his cries.

"i love you too, always".

taglist: @christinarowie332 @urmyslxt @azkabanstar @biimpanicking @soursturniolo @biimpanicking @kitaysworld @kvtie444 @flowerxbunnie @sssturniolofart @freshlovehacker

[yummyuta]

under the same roof | l.j ft l.m

♡ genre: smut - mdni! slight angst (lee jeno x reader) | roomates to lovers | word count: 2,455 words

♡ warnings: unprotected sex, oral (female recieving)

♡ summary: tensions rise when your roommate mark goes out of town for a few days, leaving you with your other unfamiliar roommate jeno. will you be able to bridge the gap between the two of you or continue to avoid each other until mark returns?

♡ authors note: this idea was based off a dream i had (not abt these members) but i wanted to adapt it.

♡ song recommendation:

"should I just move out? i don’t want to cause any problems,” your voice tinged with unease. mark turned to you, his gaze softening. he took your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. the voices from the movie you were watching fading into the background. "dont be ridiculous, i want you to stay,” he said firmly before pausing. “however you aren't going to like this. i do have to go out of town for a few days for work.”

your eyes widened, and you felt a pang of anxiety. “please don’t go. or at least take me with you,” you pleaded, clinging to best friend and fellow roommate's arm. mark frowned, his expression a mix of sympathy and practicality. “if you get uncomfortable, you can stay with chenle or haechan or literally anyone else. i don’t want you to feel stuck here with jeno.”

just then, jeno emerged from his room and observed the exchange from the doorway, his expression inscrutable. "he hates me mark and i dont know why or how to fix it," you said, voice low. upon hearing that he shook his head and retreated back into his room.

it had been a few months since you had moved in with mark and one of his close friends, jeno. you felt like a burden, suddenly interfering on their space like this. you had unfortunately found out your boyfriend was cheating and had just gotten dumped, leaving you in a tough spot. with nowhere else to turn and mark being a saint, he offered his help to you. upon your arrival, you were told that jeno had a puppy like deamenor to him and that he was harmless. however, as soon as you stepped through the door, boxes in your arm slightly blocking your view, you crashed into his strong figure. looking up at him, apologizing profusely, he had an unreadable expression on his face, barely holding eye contact with you. without saying a word, he brushed past your shoulder and entered his room. since that day, you tiptoed around him, unsure of how to proceed. you weren't a very outgoing person to begin with, and making new friends was always an adjustment for you. mark tried to bridge the gap between you for the first few weeks, but it was no use, jeno wasn't budging. "hes stuck in his own ways. thats just jeno, but eventually, he will come around." mark was quick to say whenever he noticed you getting upset.

the next day, mark was gone and the apartment was eerily quiet. you wandered into the kitchen having just woken up, before spotting jeno. you barely acknowledged each other. reaching up for your coffee mug in the cupboard, you felt jenos gaze fall on you. "why are you wearing my shirt?” he asked, his voice slightly accusatory. jeno hardly ever spoke to you, not used to hearing him, you froze in place and muttered, “fuck,” under your breath. “i thought it was mark's. the laundry must have gotten mixed up." you studdered out looking at your feet, not wanting to meet his eyes. "but I can give it back.”

jeno's eyes softened slightly, a smile peeking its way onto his lips. he reached up behind you, outstretching his muscular arms, grabbing the mug you were having a hard time reaching from the shelf with one hand. he lingered for a moment, the sounds of your heart ringing in your eardrums. “keep it." his body pressed against yours, the other hand that was by his sides, brushing the hem where the shirt met the tops of your thighs. "it looks good on you.” he whispered in your ear. with that, he set the cup on the counter next to you and turned to leave the room.

later that day, you found jeno in the living room staring intently at the tv screen playing video games. you hesitated but eventually joined him on the couch. you didn't speak at first, his voice shocking you for the second time that day when he asked if you wanted to play with him. as the hours passed, you became more comfortable and ended up stretching out with your legs draped over his lap. jeno's hand lightly rested on them occasionally tapping or rubbing them when he wasn't pressing the controls on his remote. the awkwardness was fading as you got used to his presence. what was once an intimidating aura quickly softened and became comforting.

getting bored of staring at the tv screen, you and jeno began to further unwind with drinks and music, sitting criss cross on the living room floor, trying to break down the walls that had surrounded you. what better way to do that than with a game of truth or dare. eventually, the conversation turned to why jeno had been distant with you.

"i was nervous,” he admitted, his tone sincere. “i didn’t know much about you before you moved in. you’re one of mark's closest friends, and to be honest, i thought there might be something going on between you two, so i wanted to be respectful of that.” you laughed, and jeno jumped at hearing the sudden sound. it surprised him, but it was adorable, and he wanted to hear it more. "mark is like a brother to me, we ran around in our diapers together as kids"

jeno's cheeks flushed, a ting of embarrassment present on them. he moved closer, his eyes studying yours before continuing. “well, i think its cute how you cling to him.” you rolled your eyes playfully, you couldn’t help but feel flustered. “trust me, we aren't normally like that. i was only clingy to him because i couldn’t even go near you” you confessed, barely even registering what you said. jeno scooted closer to you, placing a hand on your bare knee. “looks like you can get close to me now,” jeno said softly, faces inches apart. your eyes flickered from his fingers, clutching the skin of your leg to the darkening pools in his eyes. you cleared your throat "um its my turn, i think," your voice becoming hoarse. "so what will it be truth....or dare" jeno quipped, lips curling upwards.

you felt a rush of emotion go through you. you didn't know if it was the liquid courage that you had, or if you were finally reaching a turning point but unable to resist, you whispered, “dare,” before leaning in. "i think you know what i want," he said in a hushed tone. his breath was mingling with your own, as you contemplated. just earlier today, you were terrified of the man, but that fear had turned to lust and greed. "fuck it" you murmured, placing your lips on his. jeno immediately took both your cheeks in his hands, pulling you in closer. the minute you moved in and crashed into him, you bumped him off his axis. he was flustered, and that never happened to him. you were beautiful and he knew he had to control himself for the sake of keeping the peace but now here you were in his arms, kissing him with such force, you knocked him even more off his guard.

you slipped your hands up his black tee. he was toned and felt incredibly hot against you. you broke away from the kiss, gasping for air. the sexual energy in the room was turned up 10x when he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the rest of his body. you had to stop yourself from drooling at the sight. to be honest, the moment you met jeno, despite how he treated you, you felt drawn to him and maybe that's why it upset you so much that he didnt feel the same or so you thought.

it had been so long since you had been intimate with a man. every atom in your body was relishing at the feeling. you were extra sensitive, his hands gripped your...well his shirt and hiked it up to your belly button, as he kissed down your neck, to your collarbones, practically ripping the shirt in all directions to get as much access to you as he could. once he reached the top of your underwear, he sunk his teeth into the fabric, pulling down. honestly, he wasn't sure what had overcame him. this urge was unlike anything he had ever felt. on one hand, he felt like he had to prove just how sorry he was for how he treated you before and showed you that he wanted to do better. on the other, he had heard about your breakup from mark before you moved in, and as be observed you this whole time, he couldn't imagine why any man would be dumb enough to cheat on you. he wanted you to forget all about the hurt and finally move on with him.

he looked up at you, searching your eyes for any hint of hesistation, but all he was met with was the same desire mirroring his own. "do you trust me?" he asked, wanting confirmation. you wrapped a hand around his neck, pushing him closer to where you wanted him. thats all it took for him to wrap his lips on your clit. a surge of electricity surged through you, his mouth hot and tongue wet and skilled. he flicked the nub before moving down to your entrace, diving in deeper and twisting and turning to hit all the angles in your walls. if this was his form of an apology consider all to be forgiven.

you tasted like hints of cherry from the soju you had been drinking. your thighs tightened around his head, entrapping him and closing any potential opportunity for air to seep through. he chuckled against your heat, sending vibrations further into you. the noises you made and movement of your hips pressing into his face, he could tell you were close, and as much as he wanted to taste you completely, the throbbing in his pants was becoming unbearable. he was griding into the floor, the thought of your pussy sucking in his cock was swimming in his head as he swirled his tongue in circles around your nub once more. he pulled himself away from you, and before you could protest, he leaned up, pressing his clothed dick in between your thighs and buried his face in between your tits.

"do you still think i hate you?" he whimpered into your chest as he continued his movements. precum was leaking through his sweats mixing with yours, but before he could continue, he wanted to be sure the sex filled air was clear. you brushed his dark hair out of his eyes, you were seeing the puppy look for the very first time. every worry, negative thought, any resentment you had felt towards him melted away. you brought his face closer to yours, the distance between you becoming insufferable. you realized then that you didn't need any more space from jeno. space was a response to fear, and you had no reason for that any longer. "i think we have come to an understanding now" you said before filling in the gap.

you were fully locked in to each other, his hips swaying and snapping into yours. your pussy was like a void, minds going completely numb as pleasure took over. it wasn't enough for you, as you clawed his shoulders and back, wanting his body as near to you as possible. your lips moving in harmony to the feeling of his cock curling into you. you felt like you were falling through the floor, your back digging into the carpet below you as jeno pushed and bent your body to his will. if you had known that you were living with a sex god, you would have made amends with jeno long ago.

curse words littered out of your mouth, your orgasm teetering over your head. you were clinging onto it for so long, unable to let go of this feeling. when jeno had his way with you, would he go back to pretending like you didn't exist when mark got home? you didnt want to think of it, you wanted to place your faith in jeno. it was only one night, realistically how much could this actually change things between you two. jeno slowed his movements down for a moment, noticing how you had tensed up and tears began forming in your eyes. he couldn't bring himself to fully stop, not when you were both this close to being fully enveloped in each other. he kissed away the salty tears as they fell, moving his hand that was leaving bruises on your hip to your chin lifting to meet his tender gaze.

"stay with me, i promise i won't leave you alone again." he said confidently. you saw a twinkle of hope in his eyes, the sparkle of the truth. your mind began to settle, nodding your head and blush, finding its way onto your cheeks. jeno sped his hips up again, knocking your foreheads together as he smashed his lips into yours again, drowning in them. your orgasm thrashed over you moments later, finally feeling at peace. the war between your mind, body, and heart was settling. you lay there with jeno on the carpet of your living room, basking in the feeling of acceptance of one another.

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

you woke up the next morning in jeno's room, having moved from your previous spot after you had regained yourselves. remnants from your late night sexscapade still hanging in the air. you were still groggy when you heard mark’s voice calling your name from the living room. "y/n? are you here?" mark’s voice was full of concern.

you jumped out of bed, shaking jeno awake. "jeno! get up! go distract mark and keep him in the kitchen!" jeno rubbed his eyes, looking confused but nodded quickly. you scrambled to throw on some clothes. the urgency was palpable—you and jeno's stuff was scattered in the living room, and mark was dangerously close to discovering it. as you finished collecting your things and hiding them, you heard mark's voice getting closer and nearly collided with him as he exited the kitchen. reacting instinctively, you threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"whoa, you missed me that much?" mark laughed, his voice a mix of surprise and amusement. "was it really that bad without me?" he winced. you managed a laugh, "yeah, it was the worst." glancing over mark's shoulder and catching jeno's gaze. he was standing behind mark with a knowing look. you sighed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief.

you all settled down on the couch and started to fill mark in on the events of the past few days. "so, jeno and I spent some time together, and we actually got closer." mark looked intrigued. "oh, really? that’s great! what did you guys do?" you hesitated, choosing to leave out the more intimate details. "just hung out, talked a lot. it was... nice." mark offered a smile before wrapping his arms around both of your shoulders. "maybe i should go out of town more often then. i told you he would come around eventually." you could feel jeno's eyes lingering on you, and he added, "yeah, you should," offering you a wink.

♡ ending authors note: i was getting really into it and decided to split this up into another part, so that will be uploaded very soon! i hope you enjoyed

[wendynerdwrites]

A Measured Response: A Measured Response

Above please find the video I'm responding to, "A Measured Response" by James Somerton. If he deletes later (and I suspect he may), I will reblog with an embed of a copy of the video.

Also note: Much of this is taken from comments I made on his video. But I believe he may be deleting them. Or I got caught up in the spam filter because I commented more than once out of sheer frustration with what I was hearing.

James,

Okay, I am going to start off with a couple things I will give you credit for:

1) Acknowledging the shitty effect nuking your channel had on Nick's career and prospects. That's actually something that hasn't been discussed much and it is genuinely good of you to volunteer that to your audience. As someone who once had her own portfolio nuked by former partners, that's a good thing to bring up. No notes there. That was a good move.

2) You actually used the word 'plagiarism' this time.

I would also like to say that I am glad that you are safe and I am glad you are still alive.

I'm hearing lots about insurance, and your mental health struggles, and the move YOU chose to make "disrupting everything" and your mom's death, "not citing things correctly", how ADHD apparently made you plagiarize, and how hard things are for you. And how people harassed and doxxed you. How you totally want to prove yourself!

Here's what I'm not hearing about:

1) The harassment campaign you launched against your accusers that literally caused them to go into hiding. Sorry, but you don't get sympathy points about death threats and doxing without at least expressing remorse when you did that to others. You haven't mentioned it once. you also falsely accused OTHERS of sending harassment your way and have not acknowledged it.

2) The multiple transphobic and misogynistic lies you told.

3) The tangible impact of queer erasure YOU ENGAGED IN. You barely mention any of the people you stole from. Believe it or not, James, but those people? They also had lives, and jobs, and obligations. Some of them also had dead parents. Then there are the queer people you erased the identities of, slandered, and insulted. Becky Abertelli had to deal with YEARS of the same sort of harassment you're complaining about because of people calling her straight. And even after she was FORCED OUT OF THE CLOSET, you perpetuated that lie again. And yes, YOU DID, JAMES. PUTTING HER IN THE 'STRAIGHT AUTHORS' CATEGORY IS CALLING HER STRAIGHT, JAMES. THAT'S HOW CATEGORIES WORK. Then when she briefly corrected you, you lied about her repeatedly and inserted nasty little vague comments about her so that you could bait your audience into asking about it and claim she harassed you on twitter for not liking her show (which never happened once. She didnt even bring up you straight-washing her on twitter. It was in your comments section.). So not only did you lie, you went out of your way to create opportunities to lie about her more.

4) The outright dangerous rhetoric you engaged in. Such as:

a) You lied about the AIDS epidemic and generations of actual queer activists who you claimed didn't care about employment discrimination and just wanted to have "big gay weddings" because they were "boring. This is a false and dangerous retelling of queer history, not only isolating new generations of queer people, but also erasing the tangible benefits of the legal benefits you enjoy now, James. THEY WANTED MARRIAGE SO THEY COULD HOLD THEIR DYING LOVERS' HANDS AS THEY PASSED AND ATTEND THEIR FUNERALS, JAMES. THEY WANTED MARRIAGE SO THEY WEREN'T KICKED OUT OF THEIR HOMES AND STRIPPED OF BENEFITS DURING A HEALTH PANDEMIC, JAMES. THEY DID FIGHT FOR EMPLOYMENT RIGHTS, JAMES. THAT'S HOW SEXUALITY BECAME A PROTECTED CLASS. Lying about and downplaying the legal rights these valiant "boring" people fought for misleads current generations of queer people into caring less about their history, the people who have done the most for them, and protecting the legal rights so desperately won.

b) All the gay Nazi shit. I feel like I shouldn't have to explain why inventing facts about all the Nazi secret police and youth counselors being gay and extorting people for sex under the Reich is so insanely dangerous and disgusting, but here's a hint: it casts your own community as being the vile, perverted criminals that THE ACTUAL PEOPLE WHO WANT YOU DEAD (you know, homophobes? Not people on the internet who noticed you plagiarized the Celluloid Closet) perpetuate in order to sell their draconian policies to the masses.

c) all the misogyny. I get it, you want to erase the discrimination against women (and people you claim are women) have faced, especially as queer women. You wanted to pretend Radcliffe Hall was allowed to "carry on with her happy little life." You wanted your audience to believe that. You wanted your audience to shit on women for moral panics you made up. You wanted to erase the queer identity of a woman who had already been through Hell and then pass it off as justified. With the rising tied of renewed misogyny,, incel attacks, and reproductive rights being stripped from us, you really, really wanted to sell the message of women being whiny, jealous bitches who get handed everything, never deal with consequences, and hate people for not liking their work. (TBH, it feels a bit like projection on your part) thank you for spreading so much incel rhetoric and transphobia and making your audience ignorant of the great contributions women have made to LGBTQIA history.

I'd respect you more if you would just own up to the obvious biases you clearly have.

That's not all, but my hands are getting tired.

5) That you were caught lying about the contents of Hbomb's video in your initial patreon response.

6) The worth of the people you stole from.

7) Using Nick's asexuality as an excuse for your acephobic AF bullshit about how ace people apparently never dealt with institutional oppression when they're the most likely to be sent to conversion camp and have had corrective rape used as a "treatment" throughout history. Like, holy shit, James.

8) How you tried to lay blame for your shitty, stolen work on your own audience because "you didn't wanrt to make them and they were patreon requests." You didn't have to keep video requests as a perk. Those people paid over $300 to you for those wids only for you to throw them under the bus.

9) Your complete refusal to update your Telos backers on anything besides announcing new projects that you were using to replace the projects you promised them. You could have gone on Patreon, Indiegogo, Twitter, or your channel, and explained things. Things like this happen. But instead you ghosted and gaslighted.

10) The shit you pulled about Nebula.

11) The shitsquillion dollars you spent on cameras you didn't need when you were also claiming to your patrons about being on the verge of homelessness.

"It's a documentary, no opinion just cited facts." James, you've cited "facts" like "15% of the Hitler Youth counselors were gay", "Radcliffe Hall didn't get punished for writing a book about lesbians", and "there was no fight against employment discrimination" as "facts."

Then there's the part where you're still insisting that the people who told you that you can't make a short film on 3K were wrong. You insist it's possible because you intended to use non-union labor. then two minutes later you admit a movie you put together ended up going way over-budget because you didn't realize how much things would cost.

So the Telos nay-sayers had a point, James. Why are you still acting like they were wrong. Do you just not want anyone to find Dan Olsen's tweets about your finances?

The fact that you think you have any business coming back when all you've ever managed are lies and theft is so hilariously conceited. I get it. You want to be able to "carry on with your happy little life" (the way Radcliffe Hall DIDN'T). You want to go back to being a big youtuber and for everyone to admire you once you manage to go a whole video without stealing from anyone. That's not how this works. You have no credibility. You have caused a huge amount of damage not just to your immediate audience, but also the queer community overall.

You hurt a lot more people than Jessie Gender, James.

"We weren't trying to lie about things." BULL FUCKING SHIT. YOU NOT ONLY LIED ABOUT BECKY ALBERTALLI MULTIPLE TIMES. YOU EVEN MADE AN INDIRECT DIG AT HER SO YOUR AUDIENCE WOULD ASK ABOUT IT SO YOU COULD LIE ABOUT YOUR INTERACTIONS WITH HER AS WELL. YOU LIED ABOUT WHO ACTUALLY WROTE YOUR VIDEOS. YOU LIED ABOUT YOUR CREDITS. YOU LIED ON PURPOSE. AND YOU LIED IN WAYS THAT HURT PEOPLE.

You also lie in your video saying "in the beginning, I thought it was enough to put people's names in the opening credits." No you didn't. You started using those opening credits well after the accusations came rolling in. You even admitted on twitter that in the beginning you weren't "citing my sources yet."

Do I believe much of your bullshit was pure laziness? Certainly. But there can be more than one reason for it. There's no way you knew who Radcliffe Hall was and actually thought she face no repercussions. No one who has ever heard of The Well of Loneliness DOESN'T know all the prints were destroyed. It being a lesbian book that was destroyed by the courts is THE STORY.

You lied when you said you didn't call Becky Albertalli straight. EVEN THOUGH YOU ADMIT TO PUTTING HER IN THE STRAIGHT CATEGORY.

You lied about your "adaptation" of Evil Queens and tinker Bells and the citation and schedule of when you got approval. You got approval after the fact and claiming you got it from the beginning. your own email screenshot proves it.

You lied saying the Evil Queens video was "a direct adaptation of the books" despite half the video being plagiarized from completely different works. You lied about your plagiarism accusations and HBomb's video rehashing old "debunked" accusations on Patreon. You lied about Alexander Avila. You lied about reading/watching a bunch of the media you were "critiquing." you lied about when you started with your opening credits.

These were ALL LIES YOU TOLD ON PURPOSE.

You don't "research", "write", shoot, edit, and post a video with shit like that in it and say it wasn't malicious or intentional. You put these videos out there with scores of lies, many of which were directed at various marginalized groups, and CHOSE to never check if anything you said was true. You don't invent entire fake moral panics "by accident." You don't plagiarize by accident.

Please don't spend forty minutes reciting excuses and then claim "these are not excuses." You're not fooling us.

Also - Leave your poor mother out of this. She already had to die of cancer. Let the poor woman rest.

But thank you for linking your new patreon and telling us all about your upcoming videos! I am glad you have your priorities straight. (that was sarcasm)

Just leave the internet, James. Not LIFE, OBVIOUSLY. Stay alive. But your time as a content creator is done. You have no viability in that area. The fact that you think you can just do this is equal parts entitled and delusional. That you think you can come back so soon makes it even worse. Tell you what: you can try again after it's verified that the people you stole from have been compensated and you properly apologize for everything else.

I will not believe you're truly sorry until you can actually apologize without caveats, excuses, and, yes, lies. Saying you're sorry for "not citing things correctly" is not apologizing for what you did. It's cushioning the actual facts and downplaying your transgression. You have not apologized for the misogyny, acephobia, or transphobia, which, yes, YOU DID. I don't care if you want to claim it wasn't intentional YOU STILL DID IT. You haven't apologized for harassing and slandering your critics.

So no, James, I don't really believe you're sorry. I think you're sorry this blew up and that you have to make a new patreon. I don't trust that you won't continue being misogynistic. I don't trust that if you ever see this comment, that you will actually read it instead of crying homophobia and cancel culture and "wanting you dead."

Admit that you harassed people and that it was awful. Admit the extent. Admit you lied about Becky Albertalli and apologize to her. Admit that, yes, YOU HAVE SOME REAL ISSUES WITH WOMEN and that you are ready to confront them.

I don't trust you to do the right thing here. But maybe this comment will be read by someone who might have otherwise fallen for this and it'll be easier for them to see through manipulation like this in the future.

Just log off, Bro.

[rednotebooksworld]

Righting a Wrong

male merman/fem!human!reader

SFW oneshot

contains: human misdeeds, cursing and enemies to friends??? Idk

Summary: a young merman gets tangled up in some old fishing line and you decided to help

~***~

“Ow! Watch what you’re doing, human!”

You huffed in annoyance. You were in the middle of help a young merman, who got himself suck in some old fishing line on the shore of Saint Valor, an island that was a port, traded with the mainland.

“If you’d stop moving around maybe I wouldn’t nick you with my blade.” You said, shaking the switchblade you had in your hand.

He frowns as he scoffed. “Whatever.” His tail swished in the water, splashing you a bit as he but his chin in his palm.

“Curb the attitude, man. I’m trying to help you.” You said, going back to cutting the tough fishing line.

“I didn’t ask for your help.” He said.

“Yes you did.” You replied back.

“No, I didn’t. I could’ve gotten out myself!” He exclaimed.

“Right by tangling yourself up even more,” You said. “Look I just thought I could help.”

“You humans are such a bother. From your damn fishing nets to your loitering on the beach and polluting our ocean with your loud boats.” He growled.

“Really? You do realize our boats are our way of life. We need things from the mainland or else people will die.” You said.

“Hmphf, less humans to worry about.” He said nonchalantly.

You scowled at him as you flicked the side of his tail with your fingers.

“Ow! Human! What the hell!” He exclaimed.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that.” You said.

“Well, I’m sorry,” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Why should I have any sort of sympathy for you humans?” He asked.

“Because humans aren’t all in the same box, stupid.” You said.

“Ha! Yeah right,” He said scoffing with a smirk. “The elders never lie. Especially about you humans.”

You frowned as you took your knife away from the fishing net. “Fine then if you think humans are all the same then I’ll leave your sorry ass here and let you die.” You threatened.

The young merman’s eyes widened at this as you stood up, folding your switchblade and putting it back in your pocket. You were about to walk away when he called out to you.

“W-Wait, hold on a second!” He exclaimed.

You stop and turn around to look at him you had an unamused look on your face.

“I’m… I’m sorry… please… don’t leave me here.” He mumbled.

“Are you done being a dick?” You asked.

“Y-Yeah, please get me out of this net.” He said.

He wasn’t looking at you, he was look down at the ground in shame and embarrassment. You, a human were trying to help him and he was just being cruel and mean to you.

“Alright then. I just want to right a wrong. Some fishermen don’t care about the ocean but some of us normal folk do,” You take out your switchblade and started cutting at the fishing net again. “Our whole lives depend on the sea for ships to come into the docks to transport goods and other things that we need. I’m sorry that humans are scum and your eyes but don’t think that we don’t have it rough.” You said.

“I understand…” He said. “I… I never knew that… so do you think my elders are wrong?” He asked looking up at you.

“Somewhat, they need to look at humans individually. Every human isn’t all black and white, you know. We make mistakes, some more then others but the choices we make are our own and the faults of others shouldn’t be casted onto others that haven’t done anything.” You said.

“I see…” He said, he seemed to think about what you said a little. The young merman was dragged out of his thoughts when your voice was heard.

“There. You’re free now.” You said.

He blinks a couple of times then he looks up at you. “Oh, um, thank you.” He said softly.

The two of you say in silence as you put away your switchblade. Then you asked. “Can you make home alright?”

He looked to you then he looked away at the open water of the Saint Valor. He nodded. “Yes, I am.” He said.

“Good. Well, goodbye then.” You said.

You started walking away from the young merman. He whipped his head around and called out to you again. “W-Wait, wait a second!” He exclaimed.

You stopped in your tracks turning around again, looking at him.

He sheepishly looked away then he looked back at you. “Can I see you again?” He asked.

Your eyes widened at his question. Why does he want to see you again? You thought he hated humans. But then again you can see he’s young and looks to around your age if merfolk age like humans do that is. He was probably just believing whatever the elders or his parents told him and never met a human before in his life so you must have changed his perspective.

“Why?” You asked.

“Be…Because… you are so much different then what I perceive humans to be. I want… I want to get know you better.. maybe you can teach me humans aren’t all bad like the elders says.” He said.

He being serious, he’s not being a cocky little bastard. “Okay.” You said bluntly.

“Really?” He responded back as her perked up a bit from his sheepish expression.

“Yes, really. You can visit whenever.” You said.

“How about tomorrow? Same place?” He asked.

This shallow were a nice spot to meet. You nodded with a slight smile. “Okay then tomorrow it is.” You said.

“Great.” The young merman made his way back into the deep parts of the sea, he waved to you before he disappeared back into the depths of Saint Valor.

~***~

a/n: oh btw, I don’t have a name for this boy. So if you have any name suggestions please feel free to put them in the comments or my inbox 😊

[doomhands-jr]

The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 6

Pairing: Delinquent!Noah Sebastian X Pastor's Daughter!Reader

Summary: Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter plagued by moral perfectionism, charged with overseeing the community service he's been sentenced to complete. You've never encountered true temptation before. How will you fare up against Noah, who not only isn't bound by the same rules of purity as you, but actively scoffs at them?

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Smut/angst

Masterlist

Banner by @flowerynerds

___________________________

“Okay,” said Ruffilo, spinning a chair backwards at the foot of Noah’s bed and straddling it. He crossed his arms over the back of it and stared straight into Noah’s soul. “So talk to me.” 

Noah didn’t feel like talking. In fact, it was the last thing he wanted to do, but keeping everything bottled up hadn’t fared too well for him. After what happened the other night (he grimaced, not wanting to think about it), he felt like he owed it to himself to talk about it. Not doing so would likely end up in him engaging in even more self-destructive behavior. 

Noah leaned back  on his bed, head hitting the  wall with a soft thunk, arms draped over his bent knees, and closed his eyes. 

“I may have done something stupid,” he sighed. 

Nick chuckled softly. “I’ve seen you do a lot of stupid things, Noah. I’m not here to judge.” 

Nick’s voice held a practiced, precise balance between tenderness and concern. Noah had heard it many times over the years—Nick’s had always been the voice of reason, pulling him back down to earth when his head got stuck in the clouds (which happened a lot in Noah’s case). It was both comforting and, at times, intimidating—especially when it contained sharp truths that Noah wasn’t ready to hear. He suspected he was in store for some of those. 

“I may have…,” he trailed off, searching his brain for a combination of words he could accept. “…become attached…to someone.” 

He opened his eyes to note Nick’s reaction, but there was none. His face was neutral. Stoic. Kind, even. 

“Do you want to tell me who?” 

Noah shook his head. Nick tucked his teeth between his lips—a gentle sign that let Noah know he disagreed with the choice, but wasn’t going to press the matter. 

“Okay... So why is this an issue?” Nick shrugged.

Noah bit his lip, eyes flicking out his window when Nick’s sincerity became too much for him. He swallowed thickly. 

“I don’t think I’m good for her.” 

Nick’s eyebrows pinched together and Noah couldn’t handle the sympathy. It felt too much like pity. He chewed the inside of his cheek to distract himself. 

“Why would you think that?” 

Noah’s heart pounded inside his chest as he fought the urge to bail from the conversation. Three minutes in, and it was already bringing up repressed emotions Noah had no desire to feel. 

He breathed deep through his nose to steady himself, digging the heels of his palms into his thighs. How was he supposed to describe the situation? He wasn’t even sure why he felt the way he did, he just had a gut instinct. 

“So she’s like, religious or whatever,” he began. 

“Hold on,” Nick held up a hand to pause, his demeanor still unbothered. “Is this the pastor’s daughter Folio was talking about?” he asked, and Noah’s heart jumped into his throat. “Not a judgment, just a question,” he followed up. 

Noah hadn’t realized just how tense he’d become and forced his shoulders to relax. Though Nick was the least judgmental person he knew, he still couldn’t help but feel like he was on trial. 

Noah nodded reluctantly. “How much did he tell you?” 

“Not much,” Nick said with a shrug. “Just that you guys had a bet going.” 

Noah scowled. “I never agreed to be part of that.” 

Nick, calm as ever, simply blinked back. “I didn’t think you would.” His eyes scanned over Noah’s frame, likely noticing how on-edge his friend was. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

Noah puffed out a breath, wrapping his arms around his knees to quell the tension in his diaphragm. He didn’t know why he was so nervous to talk about this—Ruffilo clearly cared about him and had never, ever judged him. Perhaps Noah judged himself so harshly that he couldn’t imagine anyone else not. 

“No,” he said, words finally flowing from him like a pressure release valve had been flipped. 

“I’m not okay. I don’t know what to do. I can’t stop thinking about this girl, but I feel like I’m so fucked up and I just know I’m gonna end up hurting her somehow. And I think she likes me too, which makes it that much harder to stay away.” 

He pressed his palms into his eyes to equalize the pressure that had built up behind them. 

“I’m a fucking mess,” he continued fidgeting with a rip in his jeans. “I don’t have my shit together at all , and eventually she’s going to see how pathetic I am and leave me for someone better.” 

“Whoa,” said Nick, face remaining neutral, but voice taking a more assertive tone. “Hold on. You’re making a lot of wild assumptions here.” 

“Am I though? She’s a virgin and I can’t go a week without sticking my dick in someone.” 

Nick brought his finger up to his chin, eyes glazing over as he thought. “That does seem like an obstacle. Does she know this about you?” 

Noah paused his fidgeting. “I don’t know,” he confessed. “I think she sort-of knows? But I don’t think she realizes how bad it is.”

“Is bad the right word?” Nick asked. Noah leaned his head back, tapping the crown of it against the wall several times over. 

“You’re missing the point.” 

“I don’t think I am,” said Nick, folding his arms in front of him. “I think you’re catastrophizing because you’re scared.” 

“Dude!” said Noah, throwing his hands in the air. “Can you not?!” 

Nick snickered into his hand, knowing he had finally gotten to the bottom of what had been eating at Noah. 

“Sorry, yes,” said Nick, struggling to keep his face straight. “You are alone in your problems. Nobody has ever dealt with anything like this before and you suffer uniquely .” 

Noah huffed, dropping his arms.. “Thank you. Finally someone gets it.” 

Nick smiled at his friend, then gave him a look that brought the conversation back to a serious note. “Do you really think you’re incapable of change?”

Noah sucked on his teeth. “I think that’s what I’m scared of.” 

Nick rocked forward on his chair, balancing it on its two hind legs. “Are you willing to try?” 

Noah rubbed his hand up and down his calf, “I don’t know.” 

The chair Nick was on slammed back down on all four legs, creating a thud that echoed through the room. “I don’t know what to tell you man,” Nick said, standing up and stretching. “You either want the girl or you don’t.” 

“Thanks,” Noah said flatly. “That really helps.” 

Nick sat down beside Noah on the bed, pressing his shoulder into Noah’s.

“You’ll figure it out,” he said. “You have a lot of great qualities. There’s a reason she’s drawn to you. Personally, I’m really happy to call you my friend. And if it worries you that much, you can always try being honest with her about your concerns.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Noah said, trying to diffuse the sincerity with humor. He’d always had a difficult time accepting genuine affection, and Nick had a habit of giving it when it was most needed. 

“You might find,” he continued, “that she, like the rest of us, accepts you for who you are. Warts and all.” 

“It’s a lot of warts,” Noah said. 

Nick nodded in agreement. “It is a lot of warts.” 

For the first time since the beginning of their conversation, Noah cracked a smile. The pressure of Nick’s arm against his was comforting and he wanted to lean into it more, but he didn’t. He wasn’t ready to admit just how needy he was for affection. 

There was a time in Noah’s childhood where he’d expressed his needs. The need for reassurance. The need for affection. The need for love and kindness. Somewhere along the way though, he’d learned that his needs were a burden to his caregivers. Any time he asked, he was met with irritability and annoyance, and it wasn’t long before Noah received the message that his parents would only accept him if he didn’t ask for anything. 

He cut off the part of him that needed. The part that yearned. That part of him only brought about pain and rejection, so he treated it with disgust until it learned to never show its ugly face. Noah prided himself in his ability to be self-sufficient. And no, he never did end up earning the love he had wanted from his parents, but at least he didn’t get rejected by them as much. 

Now that he was older, he was starting to realize that being self-sufficient wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. He knew he had to soften, and he would…one day. It was just that right then, he had so much he was already struggling with. Adding another task on top of the pile was overwhelming. 

So he settled for begrudgingly allowing his needs to be met whenever his friends insisted. 

“Thanks, man,” he muttered, not enjoying the way it felt coming out, but knowing it needed to be said. 

“Anytime,” his friend said, nudging his elbow deeper into Noah. “I’m here if you need to talk.” 

Nick waited a beat before continuing. 

“For what it’s worth, I think you should go for it. It sounds like she’s good for you.” 

Noah didn’t respond, but knew Nick would never say anything he didn’t mean. Perhaps he couldn’t trust himself just yet, but he could trust Nick, and that was a start. 

_______

“Can I ask your opinion on something?” Noah whispered in your ear. He’d snuck up behind you and you just about jumped out of your skin.  “Don’t scare me like that,” you said, turning.. His face hovered just over yours, close enough you could almost count his eyelashes,  and you had to take a deep breath to keep from flushing. Noah hissed a laugh through his teeth, backing away to a more respectable distance. 

It was Saturday morning once again. The first snow had just fallen, and the three of you were freezing your asses off outside. The two men had finished shoveling the walkways, and were now pouring salt along the sidewalks. Nick was about six meters away, scooping salt out of the massive bucket resting on the steps leading up to the church.

“My bad,” said Noah, fighting back his laughter. 

“What did you want to ask?” 

“What’s your take on lust?” he said, looking over to make sure Nick couldn’t hear. 

You blinked up at him. Noah wasn’t bringing this topic up just for the fun of it. He had an agenda, you suspected. The angel on your shoulder screamed to walk away, but the devil on the other whispered for you to take the bait. 

You swallowed hard and chose the secret third option—stall. 

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” you said, breath coming out in a cloud of steam. Your nose had started to run. 

“Like, do you think it’s a sin?” he asked, leaning his weight on the handle of the shovel he still hadn’t put away. 

“Well, yeah,” you said. “You’re objectifying someone.” 

“How much of the sidewalk do they want us to do?” Nick called. He was almost to the end of the main walkway, but still had yet to touch the sidewalks in front of the church. 

“I think the whole thing,” you said, pointing to the sidewalks on either side. 

Nick scoffed. “So we’re supposed to spend the entire morning out here? I’m fucking freezing !” he said, wrapping his arms around himself for effect. 

“Do you need to borrow a jacket?” you asked. “We have some in the donation bins.” 

Nick’s face twisted into something sour. “No thanks.” 

You chuckled. “Then I can’t help you. Get back to work.” 

He groaned, throwing his head back and stomping off like a petulant child to spread his salt bucket farther down the sidewalk. 

“Absolute baby,” you muttered under your breath. It was the truth, but you had a soft spot in your heart for Nick’s antics. It made the day go by faster. 

“Even if they don’t know?” Noah asked, once Nick was out of earshot. 

“Know what?” you said, turning to face him. You noticed his ears poking out from under his hat. It was stupidly charming, especially now that the red of his earlobes matched the end of his nose, the membranes chilled by the cold. 

“That they’re being objectified?” His lisp was more prominent on the last word. He was making it difficult for you to ignore the crush you’d been unsuccessful in getting over—whether or not he knew. 

“I don’t know,” you said, placing your hands on your hips impatiently. “I’m not an expert. Shouldn’t you be working?” Up until that point, the conversation had played out like a game of tug-of-war, with both of you having an even grasp over its control, but you could feel your feet slipping. 

“My bad,” said Noah, leaning his shovel against the building and taking out a large scoop of salt. He sprinkled it over the sidewalk for the next ten yards and then immediately circled back to you. 

“So do you ever catch yourself lusting?” 

“Noah,” you scolded, rolling your eyes. “Why are you asking all these questions?” 

“Sorry, it’s just,” he said, sliding his foot back and forth in a large arc. His shoe glided over the salt on the sidewalk in front of him, producing a crunching, scraping sound. He sighed before sheepishly looking at you. “Full disclosure? I find myself lusting a lot.” 

“What a surprise,” you said flatly. He tilted his head and sucked on his teeth, unamused with your interjection. 

“And,” he continued, stressing the word the way a teacher would when interrupted. “I always thought it was harmless because the person I was lusting after wouldn’t find out, so victimless crime, right?” 

You raised an eyebrow. 

“I had a feeling you would say that,” he said, and you laughed. 

“Okay, well, if I may…who are you lusting after?” you asked. As soon as the question left your mouth, your chest tightened, not wanting to know the answer. If he said any other woman’s name, you’d lose it. 

“Not important,” he said. He suppressed a smile and you immediately knew he’d seen right through you. It wasn’t the affirmation from him you hoped you’d hear, but that was a long shot anyway. At least he hadn’t said someone else. 

You didn’t like the idea of him potentially talking to you about his troubles with women. You held out hope he could be hinting about his thoughts of you, given his actions on Halloween. The idea of him wanting you in that way was intoxicating. But you also knew he had a track record of being promiscuous, so really, it was anyone’s guess. 

“I think it’s probably not a good idea to be objectifying people like that,” you answered. “It could lead to treating them disrespectfully.” 

You said it, but you weren’t sure you meant it. A selfish part of you didn’t want to discourage him from thinking of you like that. 

“What if I could find a way to do both?” he asked. “Objectify and respect?” You found yourself struggling to look directly at him. 

You shrugged. “I’m not an expert. We both know I have a complicated relationship with sexuality, so I don’t even know if my opinion counts.”

“I think it counts,” he said. This time, you did chance a look over at him. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, shoulders raised to his ears as he looked at you. 

You wrinkled your nose, touched by his candor, but still unsure how you should respond. 

“If you feel like you can do both and it doesn’t feel wrong, then I’m not going to try to stop you,” you said. 

Noah pursed his lips. “That’s a very diplomatic answer.” 

“Can we go inside, please?” Nick whined, walking back up to the two of you. He’d salted about half the sidewalk. He bounced on his heels in a display of impatience. 

“Fine,” you sighed. “But find something productive to do. I think the displays need dusting.” 

Nick all but bounded up the walkway in glee, stopping to deliver a cold kiss on your cheek before he rushed inside. You stepped back startled at the sudden intrusion into your personal space. 

“Dude!” Noah scolded while you processed what had just happened. 

“Suck it, Noah!” Nick called back without looking, and you burst out laughing. You liked being able to witness little glimpses into their friendship dynamic. Nick was such an antagonist, but Noah always had a sharp tongue with a witty retort on the end of it. 

“Sorry about him,” said Noah. 

“Don’t be. I liked it,” you teased, twisting your body back and forth like a schoolgirl with a crush. 

Noah reared his head back, looking you up and down with a furrowed brow. “Whore,” he spat, and stalked off dramatically to grab more salt. 

Your laughter grew in intensity, now becoming a full-body affair. You shook your head at his sass, deciding to head into the church to make sure Nick was actually working. 

Noah didn’t talk to you for the rest of the session.  _________

Pausing his game, Noah looked at the clock. It was nearing ten. 

On any given Saturday night, he was usually either at a party at Jolly’s or at a bar. Rarely did he spend his Saturdays alone, but that night was different. The knowledge that he could be getting laid at the moment wasn’t lost on him. It gnawed at him incessantly, refusing to let him forget. 

He wished he could. There were much better things he could be doing with his time, like trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life, for one. Or working on his music. Or self-improvement of any kind, but his body had needs, and they demanded his focus. 

Perhaps his dick anticipated being inside someone. Perhaps he’d Pavloved his body into expecting pussy at least once per week, always around the same time. He sighed, awareness being dragged down to his lap.

For the hundredth time, his thoughts drifted to you. You’d probably just gotten back from worship band practice and were getting ready to turn in early so you could be up for church tomorrow. 

He rolled his eyes at the thought of it, once again struck by just how different your lives were. God, could he even imagine himself being with you? Would you expect him to go to church as well? 

His nose wrinkled on his own accord, eyes landing on the silver ring he’d fished it out of the bucket in the supply closet the other week when you weren’t looking. It now sat next to his keyboard, taunting him. 

A purity ring. God , the concept was horrific. Why anyone would promise such nonsense was beyond him. Not to mention the fact that they basically forced it on you at such a young age. It made him sick. 

He was proud of you for not wanting to wear it anymore. It warmed his heart to see you freeing yourself from that burden. 

His stomach churned with guilt. He knew it was wrong for him to have it without you knowing, but in his defense, you’d asked him to take it before tossing it away. Had he known you were that serious about ridding yourself of it, he probably would have taken it when you offered. 

He had to admit, there was also something kind of hot about him having your purity ring. He felt like he’d taken a small piece of that precious virgin identity.  

His eyes drifted over to the phone sitting beside the ring. Your number was in there. He hadn’t used it yet, but he could if he wanted. 

Taking his phone in his hand, he unlocked it, pulling up your contact and opening a new message. You were right there on the other end of it. 

He shouldn’t. Talking to you right now was a bad idea, and he knew it. His whole goal was to be better for you. Not to further corrupt you. And there was no way he had the strength to behave himself if he spoke to you at this hour. Not when his body tingled with want and anticipation. 

No, staying away from you was the much better option. If he really wanted to talk to you, it could wait until morning. He’d rub one out and go to bed and wake up feeling like a better man. One who had actually resisted the temptations of the flesh, for once in his life. 

He sighed and locked his phone again.

He thought back to the conversation he’d had with you that morning. He knew it was a dangerous topic to bring up. He’d had ulterior motives from the get-go. But you’d answered all his questions with grace—not once giving into him the way so many would have. They way he knew he would have given in had it been reversed. 

If you’d been the one to bring up the topic of lust, he’d have found a way to bring the topic to the two of you fucking within minutes. He’d have slithered the idea of sex into that conversation immediately and found some way or another to get you thinking about it. 

If he did message you this late, you’d probably just turn him down anyway. Hell, you were probably already asleep. And if you did answer, you’d probably just have a casual, civil conversation with him. Or you’d want to talk religion again, which he was actually starting to like. 

Still, it was a bad idea. He was too needy. Maybe he should just watch some porn or something. He hadn’t done that in a while. 

Sighing, he opened his browser and typed the URLof his go-to site. Immediately, he was met with lewd stills. He tried to look, but it was all so gratuitous and intentionally overstimulating. There was no build up. Nothing left to imagination. Just explicit images of women bent over while men fucked them raw. And none of it sounded like anything he was remotely interested in. At least not at the moment. 

Swallowing back the acid that had crept into the back of his mouth, he closed the window, staring down at his boxers with pity. 

“I’m sorry, dude,” he muttered to his lap. “Looks like it’s just you and me tonight.” 

__________

Your heart squeezed, knowing what was about to happen. Inosuke held Daki’s head in triumph, having just beheaded the demon when something squelched, and Gyutaro’s curved blade pierced through the middle of his chest. Blood spurted out of the boar’s mask on his head, and Tanjiro cried out in anguish for his friend. 

You’d watched this episode a half-dozen times, and it still never ceased to tug at you. 

An ache was beginning to form in your lower back from sitting in the same position on your bed for too long. Grabbing a pillow, you flopped onto your belly and propped your elbows over it. 

You looked over at Stevie’s clock she’d hung above her bed. It was just after ten. You knew you’d have to get to bed soon or else you’d be exhausted for church tomorrow. But perhaps you could fit in one more episode before then…

Your phone pinged. Picking it up, your screen displayed a text from the last person you expected. 

Noah 10:08 PM : Okay, so I have more thoughts. 

You smiled to yourself. Noah was indeed persistent when he wanted answers. You quickly typed out a reply. 

You 10:08 PM : Go on…

Noah 10:09 PM : I agree that objectifying someone without their permission is bad. 

You 10:10 PM : Correct. 

Noah 10:10 PM : What if I had their permission? 

You snorted, diving into the pillow. The man just wouldn’t quit. 

You 10:12 PM : Are you alluding to porn? Because I don’t think that’s something God would be cool with. 

Noah 10:12 PM : No, not porn. I’m talking about getting someone’s permission. 

Noah: 10:12 PM : It would have to be above-board in that case, wouldn’t it? 

You 10:13 PM : I suppose…

If he was about to tell you he was going to ask for some other girl’s permission, you would chuck your phone at the wall. He didn’t, however. 

Noah 10:14 PM : What are you up to? 

You 10:15 PM : Watching Demon Slayer. You? 

Noah 10:15 PM : Fallout. Where are you? 

You 10:16 PM : In my dorm. Why? 

Noah 10:17 PM : What are you wearing? 

You laughed, finally seeing through his scheme. And honestly, you found it both sweet and endearing. So much so that you were tempted to give it to him. 

You snapped a picture of the oversized, threadbare racecar shirt you were wearing. You’d had it since you were a kid. You couldn’t remember how you got it, but it’s been in your possession since you could remember. By that point, it had collected an impressive set of stains and rips, but the years of wear and tear had softened it into the most comfortable shirt you owned. 

You hit send. 

You 10:21 PM : Sexy, right? 

Noah 10:21 PM : Nice shirt. 

Noah 10:22 PM : Almost as good as mine. 

The next message contained an image of him in a black shirt with the Lord of the Rings logo on it. He wore big, round glasses and his hair hung down messily over his shoulders. The photo was purposefully unflattering, with him looking down at the camera and distorting the shape of his lower face.  

You laughed again, the sound coming out loudly through your nose and you were glad your roommate was still visiting her parents and couldn’t hear you. 

You 10:23 PM: Hot. 

Noah 10:24 PM : Ikr? 

You 10:24 PM : Never been more turned on in my life. 

Sending that last text felt edgy. Exciting, even. Like you let slip a little bit of truth wrapped in the sarcasm, and you wondered if he could pick up on it. 

Noah 10:24 PM : Is that so? 

Got him. You swallowed thickly, wanting to lean into the flirtation without making your feelings too obvious. 

You 10:25 PM : What can I say? I have a thing for men with multiple chins. 

You watched as three dots appeared, then disappeared, and then reappeared several times before he finally replied. 

Noah 10:27 PM : Video chat? 

Your heart leapt into your throat, stomach buzzing with nerves. This wasn’t just taking things a step forward, but a whole leap—one with any number of potential outcomes and the unknown both scared and enticed you. 

Was this dangerous? Perhaps. But perhaps there was part of you that was ready for some danger, having played it far too safe for the last two decades…

You 10:28 PM : Sure. 

You steadied your breath while you waited for him to call you, drumming your fingers on your nightstand. What would you say? Would it be awkward? What if he tried to get you to do something you were uncomfortable with? Would he…

Your thoughts were cut off by the buzzing on your phone. You sat up, straightening your hair in the reflection of your phone screen before answering. 

It was a few seconds before Noah appeared on the screen. He sat at a desk, a blank wall behind him. On the left, you could see the head of his bed with a neon backlight. A candle flickered on a nightstand next to it. He wore his long hair pulled back in a bun—a few strands falling pleasingly in front of his face. 

“Hey,” he said, his too-big front teeth on display in charming smile and you immediately relaxed into the conversation, feeling a smile creeping onto your own face. 

“Hey.” 

“Sorry for interrupting your anime,” he said, voice coming out low, gravelly, and slightly muffled. “I was getting sick of gaming.” His lisp was even more prominent through the speakers on your phone, which served to further disarm you.

“No, it’s fine,” you said, shaking your head. “I’ve already seen all the episodes.” 

“Is Demon Slayer any good?” His voice echoed in his empty room. 

“One of my favorites,” you said. 

“Nice. I’ll have to check it out.” 

There was a lull in conversation you weren’t sure how to fill, and suddenly you felt self-conscious, fiddling with the hem of your shirt to give your hands something to do. Noah continued to stare at you, rocking side-to-side in his desk chair. 

“Is your roommate home?” he asked. 

“No, she goes home on the weekends.” 

“Nice,” he said. “Do you guys get along?” 

You nodded. “For the most part. She’s double-majoring though, so she’s usually in class or at the library. I don’t actually see her much.” 

“Does that get lonely?” 

“Not really,” you said, playing absentmindedly with a strand of your hair. “I kind of like all the alone time.” 

It was true. As much as you enjoyed Stevie as a person, you rarely saw her. She was even more focused on school than you, and that was saying something. 

Without thinking, you brought the strand of hair to your mouth, sucking on the ends. 

“I get that,” he said, smile growing softer. “I like my alone time.” 

“Do you get much of it, living with two other guys?” 

“If I go to the studio,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Nobody bothers me there. Though they usually don’t bother me if I’m in my room, either.” 

“What’s it like living with Nick?” you asked. 

Noah rolled his eyes. “Loud,” he said. “The man can turn anything into a drum set.” 

“Have I met your other roommate?” 

“Yeah, actually,” he said, fiddling with something on his desk. You met him at the party for like a minute. Ruffilo. He has long hair.” 

“ Everybody had long hair,” you said. He let out a soft laugh. 

“True. He’s the one that plays bass. Green eyes.” 

“Oh yeah,” you said, vague memory coming back slowly. “It’s a Saturday night. Why aren’t you out?” 

Noah shrugged. “I’m getting bored with the party scene to be honest. What about you? Don’t you have some sort of youth group function to attend?” 

“Actually, there was an event tonight,” you said. “I didn’t feel like going.” 

“You heathen ,” he said, the corner of his lip quirking up into a devious smirk. He said it as a compliment, and your stomach buzzed pleasantly at the praise. 

You curled your toes into your sheets while Noah took an opportunity to observe you. 

“That hair taste good?” he asked, nodding toward the screen.. 

“What? Oh!” you said, laughing softly to yourself. You’d been chewing on your hair the whole time without realizing. You dropped the strand; sure you’d probably given yourself some split ends. 

“I like you like this,” he said. It was the most genuine compliment he’d paid you, and your insides melted into pools of liquid organs. 

“Like what?” 

“Cozy. Natural. I like your bedhead.” 

You blushed, avoiding eye contact and choosing to stare at your bedspread until you processed the compliment. “Thanks.” 

Noah let out a low humming sound meant to fill silence, which you found extremely attractive. 

“So what do you got going on tonight?” you asked. You propped your phone up against a water bottle on your night stand and shifted so you were sitting cross-legged in front of the camera. Noah’s eyes ran over your legs before drifting back up to meet yours. 

“You’re looking at it,” he said, stretching his arms up over his head and exposing a sliver of stomach. You allowed yourself to stare, taking notice of the ink that decorated it, much like the rest of his body.  

“You have tattoos on your stomach too,” you observed. 

He dropped his arms and sighed into a bashful smile. “Yeah.” 

“Is there anywhere you don’t have tattoos?” you asked. 

“Yeah,” he said. 

“Where?” 

He looked down at his lap and then back up to you, smile devolving into a smirk. He topped it off with a wink. 

“Oh!” you said, head jerking back and hand coming up to cover your mouth when you finally pieced together what he meant. “I didn’t mean—Oh,” you said when you noticed his teasing smile.  “Just kidding,” he said, and you huffed at his idea of a joke. “I have tattoos on my dick too.” 

“What?!” 

He hissed out laugh. “You walked into that one.” 

“You’re such a jerk,” you said, looking away from the screen and biting your tongue until the blush seeped out of your cheeks. Kidding or not, he was deliberately bringing up his genitals and you were half-scandalized and half-aroused. 

“Come on, it was just a joke.” He said, rolling his eyes. Not that you noticed because you were still avoiding eye contact. “I don’t have tattoos on my dick.” 

“Well that’s a relief,” you said, finally looking back at him and letting your hand drop back into your lap. “It’d be excessive if you did.” 

Noah was certainly in a teasing mood. You liked it, but in the back of your mind, a nagging thought tugged at you and whispered of danger . 

“It is pierced though.” 

“Noah!” You sat there, mouth agape while Noah’s held his composure. You blinked at him a few times, before shaking your head. “You know what? I don’t even want to know.” 

“You sure?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “It’s quite impressive.” 

You held up a hand in refusal. “I’m good, thanks.” 

Noah grinned, clearly enjoying how flustered he was making you. 

“Wanna see it?” he asked. 

“What? No!” you said, feeling your neck grow warm. You half-hid your face in your hands, as if at any moment, it would show itself. You weren’t ready to see that much of him. You liked that he was talking about it, and you liked the flirtation, but that was too much too soon. 

“Liar,” he said. 

“It sounds like you want me to want to see it,” you said, calling his persistence to attention. He needed to be batted away, you could tell. 

He paused, not knowing what to say and then grinned, resuming his swaying. 

“In my defense,” he said. “Any guy would want that.” 

“Not any guy,” you replied. “Not all guys like women.” 

He rolled his eyes. “You know what I meant.” 

The conversation dissolved into the two of you grinning at each other, both enjoying each other’s company without needing to fill it with words. 

“You don’t actually have it pierced, do you?” you asked, finally, curiosity getting the better of you. 

“No,” he said, looking down sheepishly. “I used to, but it got infected and I had to take it out.” 

“Are you serious?” You asked in disbelief. He nodded. “How did it get infected?” 

“Because I was a disgusting teenager who didn’t clean his shit,” he said with a laugh.  

You frowned. “Gross.” 

“You’re telling me!” his hand came up to scrub over his face, and you were struck by just how long and beautiful his fingers were. 

The thought of them inside you flashed in your mind before you could catch it and your breathing picked up. You tried to squash the thought from taking over but ended up failing and the image morphed to him wrapping his long fingers around your wrists and pinning them above your head. 

You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the picture. It wouldn’t be productive to think of him that way. Plus, you’d just talked about how objectification wasn’t morally right. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked. 

“Nothing,” you said, a little too quickly and defensively. He smiled out of the corner of his mouth. 

“It was my dick, wasn’t it?” He said it flatly, as if he’d already caught you in the act. 

“Was not,” you said, though he was on the right track. 

“That’s so rude, lusting after me without my permission,” he teased. Sure, he was feigning offense, but his voice was just a bit lower now. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t you know that’s a sin?” 

“Okay, I’m hanging up,” you threatened, reaching for your phone.

“Wait!” he rushed. “Don’t go.” 

You lingered, waiting to see what he would come up with to convince you to stay. 

“I was just kidding,” he said. “Besides, you already have my permission.” 

“I don’t…,” you began, about to deny having pictured him like that, but thought better of it. Noah would have seen right through you. “When did you give me permission?” you asked. You thought you would have remembered a conversation like that. 

He rolled his head down to look at you from under his eyebrows, unamused. “It was implied.” 

“At what point was it implied?” you asked, brows crinkling together.

Noah rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically to emphasize his exasperation. “You know, you’re really going to have to learn how to pick up on subtle hints one of these days and stop making everyone spell it out for you.” 

“Or you could just be direct with what you mean.” You’d meant it as an off-hand remark, but when you looked at Noah, you realized it’d hit home with him. 

He opened his mouth, starting to say something but then shut it again, pursing his lips and humming. 

“Nobody’s ever asked me to do that.” 

“To be direct?” you said, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees. You found it hard to believe. 

“Yeah,” he said. You searched his face to see if there was any hint as to what he was thinking. You found none. 

“So does everyone else just? What?” you said. “Try to read your mind?” 

“Honestly? Yeah, kind of. More or less,” he said with a shrug, and you had to scoot back on your bed to process. Did people truly pay that much attention to him? Hyperfocusing on his body language and trying to infer what he was thinking and feeling? 

“Doesn’t that get confusing?” you asked. “I feel like it could lead to a lot of mixed signals.” 

He tilted his head from side to side, stretching his neck and you heard the crackling sound emanating from the joints. The deep crunch sent shivers down your spine. 

“Yeah,” he said, lifting his shoulders and dropping them a couple times to shake out any tension. Finally, he stilled and looked back at the camera, placing an elbow on his desk and resting his chin in his palm. “But it’s scary to be direct with what you want, don’t you think?” 

“I suppose,” you said, thinking back to your interactions with Isaac and Noah. You hadn’t been direct with either of them, so you could understand where he was coming from. It was intimidating. 

But something told you that if you wanted to get anywhere, you had to start asking for what you wanted. And demanding the same of others. 

You asked him first. 

“What do you want, Noah?” 

His eyes flicked down to his desk, then back up to you. He held eye contact, brows narrowing, breathing deeply in and out and sucking on the inside of his cheek while he considered the question. Finally he sighed. 

“Are you sure you want the truth?” he asked, voice taking on a new, unfamiliar tone—one that rumbled in his chest and hinted at what was to come. 

“Go ahead.” 

He cocked his head to the side. “Right now, what I really want is to know if you’ve thought about me.” 

You inhaled a shuddering breath, core pulsing around nothing and skin flushing. 

You had asked the question, but you weren’t ready for him to be that direct. You’d expected him to do what he normally did and beat around the bush, hiding his true intentions behind humor and teasing. You didn’t think he’d actually put it out there in the open.  

“In what context?” you asked, just to be sure. And maybe also to bide some time.

His eyes, which had been resting lower on the screen, flicked up to the camera. “Don’t play coy. You know what context.” His voice was low and commanding, impatient with your feeble attempts to avoid answering. 

“Right,” you said, nodding. You swallowed thickly. Noah had laid down his armor, showing unexpected vulnerability like you had asked. It was your turn. 

“So do you?” he asked, brow raised. 

You waited a few moments, stomach twisting uncomfortably while you gathered the courage to answer. 

“Yes.” 

“How often?” he asked, eyes growing darker. 

You kept your breathing even as you answered. “A few times.” 

More than a few. You’d been imagining him in various scenarios since your conversation on the altar steps all those weeks ago. His hands holding you down by your wrists or wrapped around your throat. His long fingers in your mouth. In other places….

“Did you touch yourself?” he asked. 

You blinked, cheeks heating in both shame and desire. This was a big thing to ask you to admit, but deep down, a long-buried part of you wanted him to know. You were ready for him to know. 

“Yes.” 

“How?” he asked, never once breaking eye contact. His questions came at you rapidly, like he was trying to throw you off balance. 

You shook your head, recognizing you’d reached a limit. “That’s private,” you said, and he nodded, sucking air through his teeth while he figured out which angle to approach from next. 

“What do you want?” he asked. 

Good question. “I haven’t figured that out yet,” you said, unmoving. 

You were determined to continue the conversation, but it took all your focus to not shy away or lose your composure. Your heart beat rapidly, threatening to pound out of your chest. 

You knew you were ready to let go of some of this religious guilt that has been holding you back. You were ready to start exploring your sexuality, and you wanted it to be with Noah, but there was that tiny part in the back of your head that whispered what if. 

What if the church was right? What if I’m being led into temptation? What if I go to Hell? 

“Do you want me?” 

You shook your head, ridding yourself of the thoughts.  

“Yes.” You answered firmly, and you had a feeling Noah already knew. 

He tapped his fingers against his chin, pointer finger coming to rub at a dry flake of skin on his lower lip. Your eyes followed the movement, and he caught it. 

“You’re asking what I want?” he clarified. 

“Yes,” you said. 

He licked his lips, letting his teeth drag against the bottom one as he released it slowly. Squaring his shoulders, he exhaled heavily through his nostrils. 

“I want you to touch yourself.” 

Your heart hammered against your ribcage. 

“What? Like now?” you asked. The words came out choked, your throat dry. 

He nodded. “And I want you to think of me while you do it.” 

You paused, warmth pooling between your legs. You pressed your thighs together to relieve some of the pressure. His eyes flicked down to them, and you noticed just how exposed you suddenly felt. 

“One sec,” you said and heaved yourself off your bed and repositioned yourself at your desk, mirroring Noah’s posture. He frowned briefly when he realized he could no longer see all of you. 

“What do you think about” he asked again, “when you think about me?”

You were delving into new territory. You’d never confessed anything like this to anyone before, and the thought of opening up like this both thrilled and terrified you. But you couldn’t deny the affect his questions had on you.  

“Your fingers,” you said. 

The finger that had been rubbing at his lower lip paused. His eyes dropped down to it, and then back to the screen. His finger resumed, and you knew he was doing it on purpose. 

“Where?” he asked. His eyes were darker, voice gruffer. He held an intensity you’d only seen once back at his studio, right before he’d tried to kiss you. 

“In my mouth,” you said. Truthfully, you wanted his fingers in many places. In you. On you. Around you, but the sight of his index finger running across his lower lip captivated you and all you wanted was to wrap your lips around it. 

It might have been subconscious, the way his tongue briefly flicked over the pad of his finger. Then again, he may have been teasing you on purpose. He replaced his index finger with his thumb, dragging his lower lip down so you could see the bottom row of his teeth and you had to swallow the excess saliva that had pooled on your tongue. 

“If I was there, you’d have them wherever you wanted,” he said, and flames erupted between your thighs. An itch that demanded to be scratched. Tension that pleaded to be soothed. Without meaning to, your hand traveled below your desk to apply pressure to the throbbing area. 

“Are you doing it?” he asked, pulling at the skin of his lower lip. 

You didn’t have to ask what he was referring to. 

“Yeah.” 

The thumb that had been tugging at his lower lip released. His lip sprang back into place as his eyes widened. “Can I see?” 

You shook your head. “Not yet.” 

“Why not?” he asked. He stared at the screen, mouth slightly open and teeth pressing into the corner of his bottom lip. You desperately wanted to taste him. 

“It’s private,” you said, and he pouted, bobbing his head up and down in a sign of begrudging understanding. 

“I suppose I’ll allow that.” 

“Oh you’ll allow it?” you said, eyebrows lifting. You liked that he acted entitled to you. Something about it made it just a little bit harder for you to breathe, but he couldn’t know that. His ego would run away with the knowledge. 

“I’ll allow it,” he repeated low, devilish grin on his face, and oh you liked that. As much as you pretended to be annoyed, you needed him to possess you. 

You noticed his shoulder shifting on the screen. “Are you?”

He nodded. “For a while now,” he answered. 

“Since when?” 

“How long has this call been going on?” he asked. “About that long.” 

You barked out a laugh, amused but not surprised, considering how much he’d talked about his dick already. You watched his shoulder moving, imagining what was going on just below the end of your screen. 

“Have you ever thought of me while touching yourself?” you asked. 

“What do you think?” He said it as if the question itself had been an insult to his libido. 

Your insides rolled and swelled with pride. The hunger for him evolved into something more ravenous, and you pressed harder into yourself with your fingers, stroking yourself over the soft cotton of your shorts. A small whimper left you and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. 

“What do you think about?” you asked. 

“Hmmm,” he sighed, and you thought it was probably the most attractive sound you’d ever heard. You wanted to pull that sound out of him again. “Should I tell you? Would it be too much for your virgin ears?” 

You waited for him to be done teasing. When he realized you weren’t going to react, he relented. 

“Ever since you mentioned you thought about being tied up, I’ve been thinking about that.” 

“Yeah?” you asked, fingers picking up pace to match the shifting of his shoulder. You wanted him to tie you up. You wanted him to want to tie you up. 

“Yeah,” he breathed. His words came out differently. Not his normal voice, but something breathier and more needy. “I’d tie you down so you couldn’t move. Force your legs apart and bury my face in your pussy.” 

Shit. You gasped softly, cheeks burning under his gaze. The friction over the clothes wasn’t enough anymore and you had to dip your hands under your waistband, closing your eyes and melting into the sensation. 

“Are you picturing it,” he asked. 

“Yes,” you breathed. 

“Good. Imagine it’s me touching you.” 

You did exactly that, pulling your lip between your teeth and biting hard on it to give yourself something to fixate on. You could feel Noah’s eyes boring into you through the screen and you couldn’t look at him, too ashamed of your own desires. 

Noah didn’t allow that for long though. 

“Open your eyes,” he commanded. “Look at me while you fuck yourself.” 

Jesus. Your cheeks seared with the vulgarity of his commands, but you did your best to hold eye contact. His eyes were dark, irises blown wide with lust and jaw set hard in determination. 

His right shoulder tensed and shook with vigor and you’d have given anything to see what was happening under the desk.  

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, finally giving in and massaging your aching breasts with the hand that wasn’t currently inside you. 

This, you allowed Noah to witness. 

“Thinking about those tits in my mouth,” he said, voice low and gravelly. 

Your chest heated with the thought of it, breath coming out in pants. “Wish you could do that right now.” 

“There’s a lot I wish I could do right now.” The words were strained. Whiny. Needy, even and you needed to hear him make those sounds again. 

“Tell me,” you whimpered. “Please?” Your back arched off the chair and your eyes closed on their own accord. 

“Not unless you keep looking at me.” Your eyes snapped open. He stared at you intently, almost angrily in his efforts. “Keep those fucking eyes on me,” he ordered through gritted teeth. 

Hearing Noah speak to you like that was a new experience. He’d never taken that tone with you before and you couldn’t deny what it did to you. You grew wetter around your fingers, pace growing sloppy. 

“Need to see your tits.” 

You whined, wanting him to continue dictating his fantasies, but Noah wouldn’t budge. 

Slowly, you lifted your shirt high enough to uncover your breasts, tucking the hem between your teeth to keep it in place, but you kept your hand over your nipples to block his view. 

“Move the hand,” he commanded through gritted teeth. The veins in his neck began to pop. 

“Not until you tell me more,” you mumbled past the fabric.

Noah worked his jaw muscle while he stared down at your bare breasts, left shoulder tensed with how hard he was working himself. 

“Well right now, you’re cocky, so I wish I could wrap my hands around that throat until you drop the attitude.”

You flushed even more at his admission, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he affected you. You bit harder into the hem of your shirt, smiling past the fabric. “Fat chance.” 

He inhaled deeply through his nose, a muscle in his temple throbbing. You liked this—making him angry. Testing his patience. You wanted to see how he’d react if you pushed him more. 

“Watch your mouth,” he said. 

“Or what?” 

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be?” he said, struggling to keep his voice even. “I had a feeling you were a brat.” You grinned, feeling seen. “Talk all you want, but you won’t be so cocky when I have you in person.” 

God , you wanted that. You wanted him there, in person. On top of you. Inside you. You wanted his mouth on yours, all tongue and teeth and desire. 

“You think so?” 

“Oh, I know so.” His voice came out more strained than ever. 

“Yeah? What would you do?” 

“Smack your ass, for one.” 

“Oh?” You taunted. “Daddy gonna give me a spanking?” 

Noah’s movements faltered and you worried you pushed him too far in your teasing. He looked at you, mouth opening and closing a few times, and you were about to apologize. Then he resumed his movements at nearly double his previous pace. 

“You can’t just say shit like that,” he said, breaking character into something much more genuinely Noah . The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed from beneath his desk. 

“What’d I do?” you asked, hand speeding up to match his movements.

“You know what you did.” 

Your mouth fell open. Your shirt fell, bunching over your collarbone. “Daddy? That’s what does it for you?” 

“That,” he said, “among other things. Uncover your nipples.”  

You did as you were told, allowing your breasts to fall naturally. You rocked your hips into your hands and Noah watched your tits bounce with the movement, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. 

“Are you serious?” you said. 

“Don’t kink shame me.” 

You curled your lip into a smirk, a deep need to test his patience again settling over you. 

“Why not… Daddy? Something wrong, Daddy? ” you teased, softening your voice and pitching it up to feign innocence. “Please tell me. I wanna be a good girl for you.” 

You could see a vein popping in Noah’s forehead. His face had grown an angry shade of red. “I know you’re trying to be a bitch right now,” he muttered through gritted teeth, “but this is actually working. Keep going.”

You pouted. “Well now I don’t wanna.” 

Another lie. You did want to, but you didn’t want to give in to him. 

Noah sighed and then chuckled. “I really fuckin’ hate you sometimes, do you know that?” 

You laughed, warmth spreading through your belly. Somehow his vitriol sent you further towards your end. “Good.” 

He made a gruff noise and grinned like the devil. 

You were about to respond, but your body chose that moment to betray you and instead offered up a whimper. 

“Noah, I think I’m close.” 

He groaned. “Can you hold out a little longer? I’m almost there.” 

“Hurry,” you whined, screwing your eyes shut tight. 

“Oh no,” he growled. “You look at me when you come.” 

Forcefully, you wrenched your eyes open, staring at him in want. He looked at you like a man starved, as if he could devour your entire body in one go. 

Your fingers squelched loudly inside you, and you were sure Noah could hear, but he continued to look at you, unblinking as he watched your face heat up with impending climax. 

“Fuck, I’m close,” he muttered. You keened, rubbing fast circles into your clit with one hand and pumping your others inside yourself, picturing him touching you. Thinking about just how deep inside you he could get with those long, beautiful fingers. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he hissed, brows pinching together and jaw set tight. “Ready?” 

You nodded, feeling your body hurling towards its climax. 

“Come,” he commanded. 

Your entire body tensed, tightened, and then pulsed, releasing waves of vibrations radiating out from your center. You let out a pathetic whimper, fighting against every fiber in your being to not close your eyes. 

Noah’s mouth dropped open. His body spasmed, pitching forward against his desk, vein in his temple throbbing and nostrils flaring. He let out a breathy whine and gritted his teeth, sucking air in through them. 

“Fuck!” he spat, body tense and rigid. And then he collapsed backward into the chair.  

Noah laid there, panting on the other side of the screen, mouth open, staring at you. He finally broke eye contact to drop his head back and close his eyes while he waited to catch his breath. His lips pressed together and his adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed the excess saliva that had collected in his mouth. 

“Good job,” he muttered to the air above him. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, still coming down from your own high. And you meant it. That was the first time you’d reached orgasm without being overcome or interrupted by guilt. 

“Don’t mention it.” 

You felt no guilt now. Only gratitude. It fell from your lips in a stream of thankyous, and when you finally took your eyes off the camera, tears began to leak out. Not in the way they had done in the past, when you were overcome with anxiety and shame. 

These were tears of joy. You’d managed to show up for your body, and it was grateful to you.

After several moments of basking in afterglow, you looked back over to the screen. Noah was in a catatonic state. His chest rose and fell with his breaths, but his eyes remained closed and he kept silent. 

“How you doing over there?” you asked and he brought a finger up to his mouth to shush you. 

“Give me a second.” 

You smiled, pulling your shirt back down over your chest and shaking out the cramp in your hand. You took your phone back in your hands, unscrewing the cap to the water bottle it had been propped up against and drank deeply. 

“Should I leave you to it, then?” you asked. 

“Thank you for that,” he whispered. “I needed it.” 

“Same here,” you said, settling back down into the bed and stretching out. “I feel like I could fall asleep right now.” 

“Should I let you?” he asked, eyes still closed. 

“You could sing me to sleep,” you suggested. 

“That’s third date shit,” he said, swallowing thickly once again. 

“Suit yourself,” you said with a shrug. “That was nice. I’d like to do it again sometime.” 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah.” 

Recognizing he was in no state to make conversation anymore, you made the executive decision to end the call. 

“I’m gonna hit the hay,” you said. “Talk to you later?” 

“Yeah,” he said for the third time in a row. “Sounds good. Sleep tight. And thanks for that.” 

You chuckled lowly, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. The sharp angle of his nose as he breathed. The flutter of his eyelashes against his cheekbone. The furrow in his brow. You allowed yourself a few uninterrupted moments to indulge in the sheer beauty that was Noah in this state. 

“Goodnight,” you said. 

“Goodnight,” he whispered. 

You ended the call, the vision of his fucked-out face burned into your retinas. It was the only thing you thought of as you drifted off to sleep. Click to be added to the Taglist

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[kitscutie]

hey

nick nelson at a party realizes he likes yn after see she dances and enjoyful (english it’s not my first language sorry)

clear as day (nick nelson x fem!reader)

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗇𝖾𝗅ꜱ𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀ꜱ: 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾!

ꜱ𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝖺ꜱ ᖯ𝖾𝖾𝗇 ꜱ𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗀𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋ꜱ𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂ꜱ ꜱ𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾, 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺ꜱ 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅ꜱ 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖺 𝖼𝗋𝗎ꜱ𝗁 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 ᖯ𝗈𝗒, 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖾'ꜱ 𝗇𝗈𝗍 ꜱ𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝖿 𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅ꜱ, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

𝖺/𝗇: 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗎𝗉 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 ᖯ𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖨 𝖺𝗆 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝗋𝖺ꜱ𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝗄'ꜱ ꜱ𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝖺ꜱ 𝗂𝗍 𝗂ꜱ 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗂𝗇 ᖯ𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 ᖯ𝗈𝗈𝗄ꜱ 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 ꜱ𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾ꜱ ᖯ𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅ꜱ 𝖺𝗇𝖽 ᖯ𝗈𝗒ꜱ 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂ꜱ ᖯ𝗂ꜱ𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅, 𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 , 𝖨 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖺ᖯ𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 Ϲ𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗂𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝖺ꜱ 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 ᖯ𝖾 ꜱ𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾. 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺ꜱ𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒! 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾ꜱ𝗍ꜱ 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇.

"Why do we even have to go to this party, you know how I feel about Harry!" You groaned as Imogen dragged you into the obnoxiously large hotel Harry had rented for his sixteenth birthday party.

The pair of you were waiting in dresses which were on dancing on the border of too short and a safe length, though you didn't care, too busy focusing on the fact that the cold and typically British air was encasing your bare legs.

"Just enjoy it, Y/N. We're lucky Nick even invited us! I heard only a quarter of the party is girls from Higgs." She exclaimed in excitement, squeezing your hand a bit tighter.

"I suppose." You shrugged, wrapping your arms around yourself as you joined the back of the queue, a small shiver running through your body.

Imogen sat in silence for a few moments before she seemingly couldn't keep her lips shut any longer. "So about Nick..." She blurted out, eyes looking at you widely in excitement.

"No." You cut her off, but the blush and smile on your cheeks and face gave away the fact that you couldn't be more infatuated with a boy if you tried.

Nick Nelson, where could you even start. The fact that he was an amazing person with a great personality meant a lot to begin with, but the fact that he remained such a good person while surrounded by so many not so good people made him stand out. Not to mention the fact that he looked like a literal god.

Every morning you and Imogen would stand by the Truham gates before leaving for Higgs and for those twenty five minutes, you admired him. The way the sun hit his hair and made it look sort of golden. Or the way his eyes resemble honey at a certain angle. Sure, it's all a bit cliché but you couldn't help it. He was perfect.

"Oh my god!" She squealed, jumping up and down. "You do like him, I knew it!" She added while you stood there hoping no one around you could hear.

"Don't get your hopes up Imogen, I'm quite confident he doesn't like me back." You smiled, though it was a sad one. Almost pitiful. Imogen frowned at you, perplexed.

"Why wouldn't he like you?" She asked.

"I just, I don't know. I don't exactly think I'm anyone's type. I'm awkward and hard to talk to according to Ben." You chuckled, avoiding her eyes as you saw them fill with sympathy.

"Ben's a complete and utter dick! I thought we knew this." She replied, hand once again grabbing your own. "Plus, Nick will be here tonight, flirt with him and test the waters." She added, eyebrows moving up and down with a smirk.

You didn't think you knew how to flirt, not really. Never tried and never thought you would. All the boys you knew were knobs, except Nick, he was different. But all the other girls would think the same and go for him too.

"Flirt? Have you ever met me?" You almost laughed. There was no chance you could flirt.

"Y/N. I know you might not feel it right this second, but you're one of the most beautiful girls I know and I couldn't be more serious when I say, if Nick doesn't see that it's a him problem, not a you one." She said, squeezing your hand once more before letting go in order to enter the party.

Coming from a girl like Imogen, that meant the world.

"Let's dance!" Imogen yelled as soon as you walked through the door. There was at least eight hundred kids in the hotel, seven hundred and thirty nine of which you could confidently say you don't know. It was incredibly daunting.

The lights were bright and neon strobes which quite literally filled the whole room. Flashes of the whole rainbow, it was amazing. "I hate to say it but Harry actually pulled it off." You said, voice in disbelief.

"More like the planners his parents hired but yeah, it's good." She chuckled, pulling you over to the drinks table which was mostly covered with cans of coke and J20 but there were a few alcoholic drinks, probably snuck in.

"This should get you in the mood for dancing." She winked, handing over a cup of coke mixed with quite literally, a splash of vodka, not enough to do anything but Imogen was cute in thinking it would help.

"Thanks." You replied, taking a sip before moving over to the dance floor with her. You saw a few faces you recognised thankfully. Tara and Darcy, the cutest couple. Sai, Otis and Christian who always seemed to be together. And lastly, Nick.

He was stood by himself tucked away in a dark corner. He didn't look too happy, eyes darting around the room for anyone to talk to, though he looked disappointing as everyone was enthralled in their own conversations.

You sympathised, often feeling that way when Imogen left you to flirt with a boy at a party, though she didn't do it often.

You were knocked out of your zone when Imogen grabbed your wrists, beginning to jump up and down, a big smile adorning her face as music blasted from the speakers. "This is my favourite song!" She squealed and you laughed, finally loosening up into dancing with the girl.

She spun you around as you spun her, never once noticing the eyes on you from across the room.

Nick.

He always knew you were special. Always felt that you looked at him as though he were the world, saw through his façade of the happy 'lads lad' that plays rugby and doesn't really know if Shakespeare was real or a character.

He wasn't like that, and you knew it.

His eyes softened as he watched you and Imogen jump around each other, feeling glad the two of you were friends so you always had someone to bring you out of your shell. He needed that, he thought.

You and him had never directly spoken which was weird seeing as he had invited not only Imogen but you as well to the party when asked. Maybe now was the time? He thought. Why did he even care?

Nicks eyes widened as he had a realisation. Did he like you? Not just like you in the way Harry Greene likes football but like you in the way Romeo likes Juliet.

He did. He definitely did.

He slowly felt all the small moments from the past couple of weeks add up to him. The blush on his cheeks when you and Imogen would arrive in the morning. The smile on his face whenever you were brough up in conversation. Or the incessant need to like an Instagram post if you were in it. It all made sense now.

He didn't know what was powering him but his feet began to move. Walking over sticky spilt drinks and tissues but never the less towards you.

The closer he got the more he admired the way you danced without a care in the world, hair flipping around, drink spilling over the edges but it all looked so perfect on you.

Just as he reached you the light shone down so perfectly, you in red and him in blue, it was purple. A purple spotlight as though your souls were already intertwined.

"Hi." He spoke breathlessly, nerves clear as day.

"Hi." You replied, the world going quiet behind you.

Nick Nelson was the one and it had never been so clear.

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

calico jack sympathy is a very rich vein for emotional ed whump btw. not saying anyone needs to sympathize with jack at all bc he DOES suck and personally idc enough abt jack to sympathize with him for his own sake, but there is actually textual support for a sympathetic cj read. canonically he has the same traumatic pirate background as ed and the two of them went through a rlly rough time together. we have direct support from the show that jack’s rejection of anything “soft” or “weak” comes from hornigold—the very first mention of hornigold in the entire show is when jack sees the breakfast table set for ed and stede and starts teasing ed for it with “just the two of you? hornigold would shit himself.” plus ed tells stede “jack’s always been emotional” and “he can come on a bit strong but he’s insecure” which strongly implies that ed has seen a side of jack that we don’t get to see in the one episode where he shows up. it’s a side that very well might be completely gone now that jack’s a grown adult man but to me it runs counter to the text to claim that ed’s assessment of jack is completely wrong and this vulnerable side of jack never existed in the first place.

so anyway one possible angle here for sympathizing with jack as a vessel for whumping poor ed’s heart is the tragedy of two kids going through something awful together and not being able to count on each other during the whole experience. being trapped in a physically and emotionally abusive environment together and empathizing when the captain singles one of them out bc they know firsthand what it feels like to be on the receiving end of hornigold’s ire, but at the same time they’re not able to ask each other for support bc what if they use that vulnerability, that plea for comfort, as a weapon against you? what if you try to offer them support and comfort and they push you away? what if, when you DO rely on each other for support, your captain sees that bond and uses it to torture you both even further?

and what do you do if you both comfort each other, you both take care of each other, and then one of you fucking dies? because that’s how it goes—most of the pirates ed knows are dead, a pirate’s life is short but nice, the only retirement they get is death, you’re not likely to avoid near-death experiences in their line of work, heading towards a raid with the one hope being that a certain death ain’t slow. and it’s not just raids, either: your captain might have you keelhauled for a minor offense, might starve you for a week if you laugh at him during a speech, might feed you a live crab for nicking some rations, or maybe a disagreement with another crew member could turn into bloodshed. maybe someone will push you overboard for shits and giggles. what do you if you’ve found comfort with a crewmate, and then that crewmate dies? how do you cope? you’re probably better off not letting yourself care for anyone, rejecting people’s pleas for support or intimacy or friendship, because it’ll hurt less when they inevitably end up dying horrifically just like everyone else you’ve ever cared about.

and then the other big ed whump angle here is watching someone you know experience horrific trauma with not only fail to process the trauma in a healthy way but also become a worse person as a result of it. like ed knowing firsthand just how awful everything jack experienced was and remembering exactly what it looked like every time hornigold beat the spirit out of jack when he was ultimately just a vulnerable kid. ed hearing jack say some toxic macho bullshit and knowing exactly where jack learned that and how much it hurt for 20-something-year-old jack to absorb that lesson—and more than that, ed remembering when he used to believe that exact sort of toxic shit. and ed feeling like he can’t hold it against jack if he doesn’t grow bc he sees so many similarities between him and jack, and the only reason he was able to heal and become a better person is bc he met stede—and it’s not like stede was the only person in the whole world ed could’ve connected with, he had an entire ship full of kindhearted doofuses ready to offer him emotional support and he betrayed all of them because the recent back-to-back backstabbing compounded on a lifetime of trauma and made it impossible for ed to trust them. how can ed blame jack for rejecting opportunities to heal when ed did the same thing? when he can remember watching firsthand as years of abuse caused jack to gradually close himself off, the worst part of it being that it was like watching his own reflection as he also hardened under the pressure of just trying to survive another fucking day? how can ed judge jack, when jack is who he might’ve been if he’d never met stede?

[thesturniolos]

warning signs

chris sturniolo | angst 😛

| triggers: alcohol, swearing

| long distance makes couples crumble much opposed to the closeness it apparently brings.

| tags: @strniohoeee @sturniolopepsi @estelleswrld @recklesssturniolo @realmoonee @thesturniolos @malsturns @mattslolita @mattsgirlforeva @malusokay @cabincorematt @caitifilms @celestialhacker @chrisolivia4l @sturnsclutter @sturnphilia @sturniolostuff @sturniololoverr @plasticferal @pr1ncessm1ng1 @ilovemattsturn @aesthetxcimagines @dailysturniolo @deatthmatch @justangelheree

“does it ever occur to you that-“

“don’t say it.” i pull my hand up to shade his face from my vision. although he’s my best friend, i can’t begin to talk about it. i swig the bottle and shake my head as i feel the burn fall down my throat.

he runs a hand through his hair and throws his body back onto my bed.

i look down at him to see a weak smile. it’s a smile of sympathy. sympathy that i don’t want or need to have.

“we’re fine.” i say but underneath my sharp tone there’s a slight wobble of concern. because it’s not how it was.

i look down at my phone and it flashes with a notification but i’m distracted by the wallpaper behind it.

it’s a picture of me and chris by the beach. he’s picking me up from the sand and swinging me round while we both laugh. it was the best day of my life. it was the day he asked me to be his, the day he promised me we’d be together forever.

well i believed that. after all, we’d been together for most of our life anyways - thanks to our mums being best friends since they were little, we were kinda destined to be inseparable too.

that was until he went to LA after his youtube career skyrocketed. i had never been happier for him and his brothers, knowing they were doing exactly what they’d dreamed of since we were children.

but what comes with a demanding industry like there’s is crazy fans and all around the clock non-stop entertainment.

our time together lessened and lessened as he signed up for interviews and tours and met more and more fans.

it didn’t bother me because i saw how happy he was to have been given that opportunity and seeing his smile was worth it all.

but it’s when i couldn’t see that grin anymore is when i found myself slipping into a place of darkness, like the curtains had been drawn on me.

i didn’t feel like a girlfriend anymore, i felt like a shadow. like a burden even.

even before they left for the big LA, he seemed to have become irritated by my presence, he started to go to bed early and i only saw him for about fifteen minutes when i got up and ten minutes when i got home before he found something else to do.

matt and nick saw this happening and tried to include me into their videos and podcasts but chris made it clear that i wasn’t allowed claiming the fans wouldn’t like it.

but what if i didn’t like it? did that even matter?

so now i find myself nearly 3000 miles away looking down at the bright light in my hand, wishing he was next to me and that it was like old times.

except he hadn’t texted me in a week and he’s been gone six months. that’s nearly 200 days without seeing him.

to think last year i couldn’t have gone 24 hours without a hug from him to now holding a teddy in my arms wishing it were chris.

i felt embarrassed to sit here and still think naively think we were still even a thing. because what’s a relationship without words?

i understand long distance is hard but nobody said it would do this to us, we were supposed to be forever.

i often think about the day at the beach, i wish it never happened. then i wouldn’t feel broken now.

“i really think you ought to call him.” says nate.

nate had been the triplets’ best friend too. he just like me was dropped but he still remained close with the likes of matt and nick.

“but it’s always me calling and it’s always me texting. how long do i have to fucking wait until he does that for me, nate? because quite frankly i’m fed up with being the only one who cares around here.”

there was silence for a bit and i could feel him staring at me.

a tear falls down my cheek and i let it fall onto my leg.

“i miss him so much, nate. why doesn’t he want me anymore?”

“i don’t know.” he hugs me in close and rubs my arm.

the truth is, this is the first hug i’ve had for six months.

“y/n?” the door opens and i’m face to face with the one person i need most.

“chris?”

[happy74827]

Take Me Over

[Nick Blaine x Wife!Reader]

Synopsis: In the heart of Gilead’s oppressive regime, you find yourself thrust into a marriage with Nick Blaine, a man whose silent demeanor hides a truth you’ve realized to be shared.

WC: 2189

Category: Lime/Spice, Slight Fluff {TW — Forced Marriage}

I’m back at it again with another character that no one seems to write about 🥲 (I love him your honor)

『••✎••』

The dim light of the candles flickered in the oppressive silence of the room. You sat on the edge of the bed, your hands tightly gripping the stack of letters tied together by a brown string while you contemplated what you were about to do.

It’s been a total of two days since you were placed to be a part of the household of Commander Fred and Mrs. Waterford. Two days since you were forced into a role that you were not comfortable with. Two days since a new life was placed before you.

Two days since your marriage, and now here you are, sitting on the edge of a bed, dreading the moment that the door would open and once again reveal the man who was forced to be your husband.

Nick Blaine, that was his name, and it was all that was given to you. You knew nothing about him. All you knew was that you were his wife, and he was your husband, and you both had a role to play. Though, if the letters that you currently held in your hands were anything to go by, Nick Blaine, your husband, played the role of a rebel.

Shock. It was the first thing that you felt when you discovered the stack of letters hidden behind one of the drawers in the room. Then, curiosity. What exactly were they? You were so intrigued that you couldn't help yourself. You had to find out.

You didn’t regret it.

You didn't even want to.

What you had found was something you could not believe. Something so secret and dangerous that you could not fathom. The contents of the letters, the words written upon the papers, were like a breath of fresh air.

Stories, that's what they were. Stories that you would tell in hushed whispers. Stories that were passed around. Stories of the world before Gilead.

They seemed to be all handmaids. Handmaids telling their side of the story. Brave women who would take such risks, who would defy the rules, just to let their voices be heard.

They were inspiring, and as you read through them, you realized the more dangerous these letters were, the more powerful. And the more powerful they were, the more they were needed.

It was a small act of defiance, but it was enough. It was something that could keep the flame of hope alive, and that is exactly what they needed in the current situation.

But the question still stands. What was Nick Blaine doing with them?

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to feel, especially now that you were aware that a man of his stature and position could risk everything for the sake of those who were fighting against Gilead.

So many things were racing in your mind, but then it hit you. The soft glow in his eyes whenever Waterford’s handmaiden was around. The way he looked at her. Sympathy and guilt. He cared for her.

The revelation was almost jarring, but you weren’t too surprised. Nick always seemed different from the others. Hell, it’s been two days, and he hasn’t touched you.

You could almost guarantee that all the other men who were promoted and newly married would have already taken their wives by now. They would’ve taken their wife that night after the ceremony. But not him. Not Nick.

You were grateful.

He had a heart, and that's all that mattered.

A knock on the door snapped you back into reality, and before you could even respond, the door was opening.

It was Nick.

For a split second, the two of you just stared at each other, his eyes moving in slow motion as they trailed from your face to the stack of letters you were holding.

Of course, as he did so, all you could do was look at him in admiration. He was always easy on the eyes before, with hair and eyes that were darker than the luxurious dark chocolate you once loved to eat before Gilead. But, knowing what you know now, everything about him was just much more attractive.

But then, a flicker of fear was shown in his eyes, and all at once, the atmosphere seemed to grow tense.

Without saying a word, Nick stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. You could visibly see a sweat drop trickling down his neck as he tried to compose himself, his eyes never leaving the letters that were clutched tightly in your hands.

"Nick." You whispered, and you could see him stiffen at the mention of his name. The poor man was terrified, and it was heartbreaking.

"How much did you read?" His voice was rough and gravelly, and the sound was music to your ears.

"Enough." You answered, and without missing a beat, you slowly stood up and began to make your way toward him. "Enough to know I can trust you."

Your response was met with a surprised look, and it was clear to you that he was not expecting that. Truthfully, you were surprised yourself.

This was all new to you. You've never spoken so freely before, and you never expected the day would come when you would have the courage to defy the rules. But today was a strange day.

"I’ve never believed in miracles," You whispered, taking a few steps forward. Your eyes were locked with his, and you could see the surprise and curiosity swirling around in his beautiful, dark brown eyes. "but you might be the closest thing to one I could get."

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you slowly walked towards him, and as the two of you were only mere inches away from each other, you raised the stack of letters and gently pushed it towards him.

"You need to do better than hiding them behind a drawer, though. I almost tripped on it when it fell out." You said, and for the first time since you had met him, you saw his lips curl up into a ghost of a smile.

"Noted."

And then the two of you lapsed into silence. A comfortable silence that was filled with the soft glow of the candle and the faint crackling sound of the fire.

That night was the night your trust was built and the beginning of a bond that would eventually bring the two of you together.

It was a couple of months later, when he returned from Canada with the Waterfords, that your relationship from close friends to lovers began.

He’d gotten the letters out. He’d finally gotten them out, and as the news of the failed union between Canada and Gilead left his lips, all you could think about was the relief and the excitement.

Your heart was overflowing with joy, and your body was filled with a sense of warmth that you had long forgotten. Nick had done it. Nick had finally done it.

As soon as he finished recounting, you rushed to embrace him. A strong grip wrapped itself around his waist, and your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

Nick, on the other hand, was stiff as a board. Even though you two were married to each other, he still felt that it was inappropriate for him to touch you in such a manner.

The thought didn’t last long, however, as you pulled away and gave him a smile that made his heart skip a beat.

Your smile was radiant. Your eyes were twinkling, and your face was glowing. For the first time in a long time, you were truly happy. And Nick didn't think that he'd ever seen anything more beautiful.

"I'm proud of you."

Your words were soft, and as you placed your hand on his chest, you could feel his heartbeat quicken beneath your palm.

His eyes were locked on yours, and he could see the emotions swirling around in your eyes.

Relief. Excitement. Happiness. Admiration.

The list could go on, but in the end, all that mattered was that he could see the love that you held for him.

And that… that look was all it took for his hands to gently grasp your shoulders and guide you backward as you told him another set of words about how he was a hero and that he was amazing.

You didn’t even realize what he was doing until your back felt the concrete wall. Once you realized you weren’t moving anymore, you paused and looked at him, and the moment you did, your breath got caught in your throat.

Nick was looking at you with an intensity that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand. His hands had moved from your shoulders to the nape of your neck, and the warmth of his skin sent a shiver down your spine.

"Nick." You whispered, watching as his thumb grazed the outline of your bottom lip. It was a simple, tender gesture, but it was enough to send butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You couldn’t get a response out, not even a single word, as you watched his eyes glance down at your lips, his own tongue darting out to lick his.

Then, his head was moving forward, and his lips were brushing against yours. It was a ghost of a kiss, barely touching your lips, but the electricity was there. It was a spark that made your entire body tingle and your heart race.

When Nick pulled away, he was met with your intense gaze. You were almost upset at the weak display. Even though you understood his hesitation, a part of you was hoping he would be braver.

"That's it?" You murmured, a hint of teasing in your voice.

And the moment those words left your mouth, he was smirking. He was actually smirking, and his fingers were running through your hair.

"Are you asking me for more?" He asked, his voice low and deep, sending another shiver down your spine.

"I’m not asking," You breathed out, leaning in close and pressing your forehead against his. The moment you did, his grip tightened around your waist, and his free hand slid down to your hip, squeezing it slightly. "You were brave enough to get those letters out. Be brave enough to kiss me like you mean it."

Those were the magic words.

He didn't say anything in response.

He didn't need to.

Instead, his hands went back to the nape of your neck, and his lips were once again on yours. Only this time, it was not a ghostly touch. It was real, and the moment his lips were on yours, all your senses were flooded with him.

You could feel his warm, plush lips molding against yours and the gentle way his fingers were running through your hair.

But what made you absolutely weak was the taste of him. Your legs were almost wobbling the moment his tongue slipped into your mouth. It was like a dance, his tongue brushing against yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

And as the two of you kissed, all the tension and the desire that had been building up in the past months slowly dissipated.

Your heart was racing, and your mind was in a daze. The only thing you were thinking about was Nick and his lips. And as his fingers gripped onto the strands of your hair and the way his hips began to press against yours, all you could think about was getting him closer.

So, your hands traveled down from his chest and to his back, gripping the material of his jacket as you pulled him towards you.

The action elicited a groan from the back of his throat, and his hips began to press firmly against yours. You could feel the way his hips were subtly grinding against yours, and as his hardness began to rub against the thin material of your dress, the moan that escaped your lips was swallowed by his mouth.

The kiss was turning heated and passionate, and your lips were swollen and bruised. Your fingers were tugging on his hair, and his were clutching at the strands of your own.

His teeth gently bit down on your bottom lip, and a moan escaped your lips; the sound was swallowed by his mouth, and you could feel him smiling.

You and Nick were so lost in each other that night, so focused on the taste of one another and the way his body was pressed against yours; it created a bubble where you both were safe, warm, and blissful.

It was the first time in a long time either of you had felt that way, and that feeling continued to grow, and eventually, it blossomed into a love that was deeper than the ocean and brighter than the sun.

And that was when you realized that no matter what happened, the two of you would always have each other, and no matter how cruel the world was, the two of you would always find a way to stay true to yourselves.