#please tell me nobody did this already I spent to much time on this

[andr000m]

King Dedede: God I hope I dont see that orange dinky fuck today

Waddle Doo, dinky as ever:

[nats-firefly]

the bet

sorority!wandanat x reader

summary: tri delta and delta nu have a bet, you get caught in the cross fire

warnings: power bottom!wandanat, choking, smut 18+ only

a/n: repost! they're back

🚩 warnings are clearly stated please do not report/flag :) 🚩

words: 2.7 k | feedback is always welcome | masterlist

divider source | gif source

Delta Nu and Tri Delta were known as the rival sororities on campus. Always the two every girl wanted to get into, the two to raise the most funds for whatever cause and the two who were always at each other’s throats. One week, the heads of the two sororities met and made a bet. Celibacy week. The house that broke first would have to give up their summer funding for parties, only relying on future fundraisers for party budget.

Usually, these bets wouldn’t affect you all that much. You even liked them sometimes, Natasha would get especially frustrated when things didn’t go her way and she would always come to her trusty roommate for some… stress relief.

But this bet, this bet sucked. 

Not only was Natasha extremely sexually frustrated and on edge, but you had also found yourself becoming dependant on both Natasha and Wanda for your own stress relief. And now neither of them could come to your aid.

You tried though. And you were persistent. But Natasha is a more determined when she’s pissed off. And there was nothing that pissed her off more than having to share you. She noticed how much you would be on your phone and how you spent more and more time out of the apartment, and how your dirty laundry would have the faint smell Natasha recognized from meetings with Delta Nu.

You snaked your hands onto Natasha’s hips, pressing her between your body and the counter, making sure the outline of the silicone toy between your legs was clearly felt through your sweatpants. Natasha whimpered, her hips subconsciously pressing back against you. She turned around in your hold, her hand coming up to grip your throat and pull you towards her.

You turned her towards the kitchen island, hooking your hands under her thighs and propping her up. Her fingers pressed the sides of your throat and you moaned into her mouth, your lips moving perfectly against each other. She bucked her hips closer to the edge, feeling your cool fingertips sliding up her thigh. 

All of a sudden, Natasha clenched her thighs shut, trapping your hand between her thighs as she pushed you away from her with clenched eyes. Her hand loosened its grip on your throat as your other hand slid down her leg. 

“I can’t let her win this too,” You tilted your head, about to ask her what she meant when she hopped down from the counter, giving you a peck on the cheek before walking into her room. 

You frustratedly closed the door to your room, plopping down on your bed and pulling out your phone, starting to text the only other woman who could tend to your needs at the moment.

it’s just a stupid bet, what’s the big deal? nobody has to know, wanda

You rolled your eyes, waiting patiently for the three little dots to appear.

did you forget you live with one of them 

she has a name you know

whatever it is, no. I can’t.

I’ll get rid of her, please?

Wanda tapped her fingertips against her table, biting her lip in concentration. She huffed out a sigh, typing out a half-assed excuse, part of her already thinking of what she’d wear to your place. 

if this fucks up my chances as delta nu president next year i’m holding you personally responsible get rid of her

You got up from your bed, grabbing your wallet and pulling out a twenty dollar bill. You walked to Natasha’s bedroom, knocking on the door before you heard her voice telling you to come in.

“Do you wanna do me a favor?” You asked, scratching the back of your neck as you sat on her bed. She scrolled further down the online store’s website, clicking on a bodycon dress. She hummed, encouraging you to keep talking. “Can you go to the store and grab ice cream?”

“Why do I have to go?”

“Well, you’ve got all this pent up energy you can’t release right? Jog to the store.”

She hummed and stopped scrolling, turning her chair to your direction. You offered her the twenty dollar bill and she snatched it away from your hands. “Fine.”

“Thanks,” You smiled, getting up from her bed and making your way back to your room. Natasha found it odd but didn’t think about it too much. She put on her running shoes and slung a fanny pack over her shoulder before heading out the door, leaving your twenty dollar bill on the counter. 

You heard the front door click shut and quickly texted Wanda.

she’s jogging to the store, you have like twenty minutes to get here

Wanda stood up out of her desk, sliding off her sweatpants and stepping into tight yoga pants. She packed her laptop and notebooks into her bag and walked out the door, grabbing a baseball cap before she left the house. She walked to your apartment and was there ten minute later, trying to ignore the smug smirk on your face as you ushered her into your bedroom.

You closed the door and pushed Wanda against the wooden surface, bringing her lips onto yours. She closed her eyes, getting lost in the feeling of your lips against hers while her bag slid down her arm to rest gently on the floor. She caught herself when your hands started drifting up her sweater, making her push you back onto your bed. You fell backwards, propping yourself up on your elbows as she straddled your lap. 

“You don’t get to call the shots today,” She gripped your hair and brought your lips back onto hers, her tongue moving against yours in a heated kiss. Your hands came to rest on her ass, making her buck hips into you and fuck, this was a bad idea. 

“Doesn’t seem like you want me to stop,” You smirked up at her, making her grip your chin and push you into the bed, rolling her eyes as she got off your lap. 

“I do,” She groaned, standing up again and moving to her back on the floor bringing it to the bed. “I even brought work to do.”

“You never stop, do you?” You asked, as she sat against the headboard, looking at you while she type on her computer and you pulled out your video game controller. 

“If I did, I wouldn’t become president of Delta Nu next year,” She said, the sound her her nails clicking on the keys echoing in your ears.

“Easy there, champ, don’t your sisters have to elect you?” You joked as you clicked away on your controller, eyes glued to the screen on the wall.

“Yeah, but I’m not worried about that,” She said, her eyes drifting to the way your bottom lip was caught between your teeth and your fingers flexed so easily around the controller. It all sent a wave of arousal straight to her core.

Wanda pushed her laptop off her lap, the crawled over to you, pushing your controller aside and straddling your hips once again. 

“Ready to break the rules, Madam President?”

“The rule is I can’t have sex,” She said, bringing her lips onto yours. “Nobody said anything about touching.”

She gripped your wrists and led them under her shirt, making you smirk against her mouth. Her soft moans filled your ears and vibrated through your body, your fingertips pressing harder against the soft skin of her chest. Your lips trailed down her neck, her hands gripping onto your hair as she arched into you. You flipped her over onto the bed, kneeling between her thighs and continuing to kiss down her body.

Wanda moaned as she felt the shape of your strap press against her. Her fingernails dug into your scalp as you sucked on her skin, not hard enough to leave a mark but just enough to leave Wanda wanting more. 

Wanda felt her desperation heighten, feeling like maybe, just maybe she would break the bet. Just as she was about to start tugging your shirt up your body, your head picked up, hearing Natasha open the door to the apartment. You looked at Wanda, a smirk tugging on your lips as you kissed up to her ear, softly shushing her.

“We have to be quiet now, angel,” You said, bringing her lips back onto yours. She continued kissing you, her eyes bursting open when the idea popped into her head. If she wanted anything with you tonight, she was gonna have to share you with Natasha. 

But Wanda couldn’t just bring this up, and she wouldn’t be able to wait another day, celibacy week was almost over. She had to act now. And it had to be Natasha’s idea. Wanda started whining against your lips, at first softly, but getting increasingly louder.

Natasha walked through the door, stopping at the fridge to grab a water bottle as she caught her breath. She removed her earphones and moved closer to you door, hearing shuffling and muffled whining from the other side of the door. 

“I’m back from the store,” She called through the door, making you pull away from Wanda and place your hand over the brunette’s mouth.

“Uhmm, you can put the ice cream in the freezer, I’ll get it late-OUCH!” You hissed at the sharp pain on your fingers, turning your gaze back to Wanda who had a grin on her face and she gripped your forearm over her shirt.

“Is everything okay?” Natasha said, walking into your room. She froze at the sight in front if her: Wanda pinned underneath you, one of your hands under her shirt while the other hovered above her mouth. The redhead’s eyebrows raised and a smug grin graced her features. “What do we have here.”

You pulled yourself off Wanda and walked over to Natasha gripping her hips and turning her around, pushing her towards the door. “We didn’t do anything, she didn’t lose the bet.”

Natasha stopped in her movements, all the pent up frustration she jogged off immediately returning. If anyone was gonna tiptoe around the grey area of the bet with you, it was gonna be her. There was no way in hell she would let Wanda have you all to herself. She turned around to face you before her gaze drifted to Wanda, who was still laying on the bed, her gaze completely locked onto Natasha. 

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” She simply said. Natasha’s lips turned upwards, her hands immediately pushing you back into your room. 

“Now we just gotta make sure you keep your mouth shut,” Natasha’s eyes locked onto yours, the back of your legs finally reaching the bed, making you fall back on it. Wanda kneeled next to you, standing over you next to Natasha as you propped yourself up on your elbows. 

“You guys make it seem like you both weren’t practically begging me to fuck you earlier today,” You rolled your eyes, watching the two girls look over you like you were the last meal on Earth. Wanda rolled her eyes, leaning over and gripping your chin.

“Let’s put that mouth to better use,” Wanda shuffled off the bed, sliding her pants down her legs along with her underwear, Natasha quickly following her movements. Wanda was about to climb back onto the bed, but Natasha held her back, making the brunette look at her with a frown.

“I live here, I get to call dibs on her face,” The redhead said, moving her body up to your face. Wanda rolled her eyes, grabbing the hem of your sweatpants and pulling them down your body, revealing her favorite red strap. 

“You tell another living soul about this and you’re moving out,” Natasha lowered her pussy onto your mouth before you had a chance to answer, her hips rolling onto your face as you stuck your tongue out. Natasha’s fingers gripped onto your hair, angling your head back as she bucked her hips onto you. Wanda groaned as she sunk down onto the toy between your legs, you could feel her weight shift on your hips as she bounced on your strap, your hands gripping the back of her knees and pulling her closer.

Wanda moaned, her nails digging into the skin of your stomach as she steadied herself. The stinging sensation made you moan into Natasha, the vibrations moving through her body and making her thighs squeeze around your head. They started off with a terrible pace, the two bucking their hips at the worst moments together. Your hands gripped Natasha’s hips as you pushed your strap deeper into Wanda, briefly halting her movements. Wanda screamed out in pleasure, the tip of the strap pressing against the perfect spot while you rolled Natasha’s hips onto your face, keeping your eyes on her as she contorted her face in pleasure.

Wanda and Natasha settled into the perfect pace, working off each other and making you groan in pleasure every now and then. Natasha pressed down onto your face, her arousal already dripping down your chin. Wanda whined, desperately bucking her hips, trying to reach her high, but not quite getting there. 

“Do you need a little help, sweetheart?” Natasha cooed condescendingly at the brunette, making Wanda more frustrated than she already was. You lifted you chin up, sucking Nat’s clit into your mouth, making her body shudder. Natasha lifted herself off you, before turning around and straddling your face once again. You circled your thumbs onto Wanda’s legs, as she continued moving against you. Natasha gripped her chin and brought their lips together, her hands moving town to Wanda’s chest, tweaking her nipples as you pumped the toy deeper into Wanda.

One of Natasha’s hands moved up to Wanda’s throat, lightly squeezing the sides as she pulled away from the brunette. She moaned, bucking her hips faster against your face as you reached up to her hips and pressed her hips down onto you as you sucked on her clit. “Cum with me, Wanda.”

You felt Wanda’s arousal soak the strap just as Natasha’s hips stilled and her body shook over you, her orgasm washing over her like waves. Wanda brought their lips together once again, both girls using your body to ride out their orgasms, hair clinging to their skin as the caught their breath. 

You licked Natasha clean before she pulled away from your face, letting you sit up and lift Wanda off you. Natasha moved off the bed to look for her underwear, ready to leave like she usually did after the two of you had your time. You leaned Wanda against the headboard, bringing your lips to hers then kissing down her body, the brunette’s hands entangling in your hair as your buried your head between her thighs, carefully running your tongue through her sensitive folds. 

Natasha watched as you cared for Wanda the same way you would care for her, feeling a pang of jealousy course through her at Wanda’s soft laughter as you came up and kissed her cheek. Wanda moved to the side, allowing you to settle agains the headboard before she settled next to you, curling to your side. 

“Uhm,” Natasha felt embarrassed watching, a prominent shade of pink gracing her cheeks as she avoided your gaze. “I’ll uh-”

“You can stay if you want,” Wanda said, pulling the blanket on the other side of you down, as you focused you attention on the tv. 

“She’s right,” You said, secretly hoping neither woman noticed how much you desperately hoped she would. 

“Okay,” Natasha leaned against the headboard, arms crossed over her chest as she focused her attention at the tv. You nudged her shoulder, the motioned for her to inch closer, making her roll her eyes but moved closer nonetheless. 

The three of your comfortably watched cartoons and talked for another few hours, not able to keep your hands to each other for most of the time. It was around 2 am when you finally closed your eyes, Natasha laying unconscious curled to your side. Wanda drew patters on your skin with her fingertips, the reflection of the tv glimmer bouncing off your phone catching her attention. She waited another few episodes to make sure you were both asleep before reaching over and snapping a picture before sending it to herself and deleting it off your phone. 

She fell asleep with a smug smirk on her features, thinking she had the upper hand. What she didn’t know was that the following morning Natasha would do the same thing, snapping a picture of Wanda laying naked with you before tiptoeing her way out of your room to get ready for class.

And yeah, they both were still at each other’s throats, but maybe this bet wasn’t so bad after all.

[neetily]

Kinktober 2024 — Demon Whitney

— ✧ pairing: M!Whitney / F!Reader — ✧ genre: smut 18+ — ✧ word count: 10,467 — ✧ warnings: incubus demon, dubcon, mind break, degradation, breeding, creampie, aphrodisiac, bullying, name calling, multiple orgasms, blowjob, throatpie, floating sex, cervix fucking, claiming, dacryphilia, piercings — ✧ synopsis: he did warn you, after all. don't make a deal that you can't hold up, or you'll find yourself in some serious shit, slut.

— ✧ A/N: if you asked me why i struggled so much with this piece, i wouldn't be able to tell you why. i hope you're unable to see the difficulty i had when reading it, and i hope to god it all makes sense. im going insane. thank you for reading.

also, this entry to my kinktober list is perhaps the most 'lighthearted' of the bunch, so enjoy it while it lasts lmfao...

— ✧ kinktober masterlist

He knows your sordid type well enough by now, which will ultimately be your downfall.

Lonely, first and most of all. Like an abandoned little puppy kicked to the side of the road that is life, so easily forgotten about by your peers— which means that, for him, you’re effortless. Far too simple of a target for a demon of his calibre, of course, but beggars cannot be choosers in his line of work. He’s become well acquainted with that fact by now, given how long he's been night stalking after your kind.

Maybe you’re just weird, actually. Maybe that’s why you’re left sorely untouched yet, in which case it’d be your own fucking fault for not learning the rules of your community and fitting it by now; there are cues to social interaction, y’know? Or, perhaps there’s a more reasonable explanation as to why you’ve been left all alone and in his company… Like the fact that you’re into some fucked up shit, evident by the way he floats precariously in your dark and messy room, lights already dimmed for his absolute pleasure. That’s probably it, right? Nobody wants to be friends with a fucking freak who spends her free time combing through tomes of the dead, flicking through page after page to find the exact chapter bearing his name. A woman on an unholy mission; it’s understandable that others would brand you as an outcast given your penchant for, well… him.

Secondly, you’re desperate. In part because of how lonely you are, right? Clawing at your own throat for something, just a little bit of anything, really. You’re not so different from his usual clientele in that respect. He can already taste the hot hopelessness swirling in your empty heart, thick and gloopy like tar, and he can’t fucking wait to swallow it all up for you. But you were never free of sin in the first place, were you? The slight parting of your lips in sheer awe of his presence is promise enough, comparing him akin to a tall glass of water, aren’t you? He can’t blame you, a lifetime spent stranded in the middle of a desert pool is enough to make anyone desperate enough for a demon, grasping at every single straw that passes by you, just for a fucking chance at some human connection. It’s so funny how sad and pathetic you look right now, big puppy eyes begging up at him wordlessly; please, just a little bit of anything, even a closed fist would do. Pathetic little girl, fuck, his tight underwear is already tenting towards you at the mere thought of corrupting your wishes.

You should have never settled on him, don’t you know that he’s no good for you, darling?

But most of all, there’s only one true type of girl who’d even think to try and employ his services seriously enough to view him in person. Scanning through passages of bad handwriting, likely hours spent decoding and translating— all in the vain hope of meeting him... You’re quite simply a grade A fucking slut. Whether in practice or in heart doesn’t matter matter to him, it’s the same difference at the end of the day. But you, however, appear the be the latter. Fucking whore deep down, your already blushing body is a dead giveaway, just begging for a beating, ain’t she?

Poor thing, you probably don’t even understand why your tummy fills with heat upon his arrival, do you? Prickling arousal through your veins from his mere presence alone, about the only thing that you’ve done right tonight is listen to your body and sought out help.

It’s just a shame that you seek it from him, dummy.

Carefully, he remains floating in place before you. One leg hooked over the other, leaning back a little to take a proper look of your trembling frame— is that from fear? Or perhaps… excitement? He’d be happy with either option, really, because you’re a real pretty one. For a fucking loser, anyway. And your room ain't half bad; he’s fucked mortals in much more disgusting places before— he still remembers the countless basement dwellings he’s regrettably fucked in, ugh… But you, you vile little creature, knew he’d want better, didn't you? A side smirk tugs on his lips at the way you gulp at his half lidded gaze, like a lamb put up for the slaughter. Don’t wanna bite first? You have thought this through though, haven’t you? Summoning a demon, let alone one borne out of lust, is no easy task. One as strong as him, too. A swift glance down under him shows your perfected circle, each point and curve of it meticulously painted in the hopes of a successful show. And, well, he can’t rightly let you down now, can he?

His arrow tipped tail swishes idly behind him, a low hum of approval crawling up his throat as he fixes his hair for you, keeping one eye hidden behind his blonde bangs. While he certainly views your kind as the lesser race, he’s not about to look as destitute as you currently appear— standards and all that. He’s got a reputation to keep up as the number one fucker; metaphorically and physically. And that reputation seems to extend to the living realm too, if your subdued reaction to his commanding appearance is anything to go by. Dumb little girl, his cock twitches for your attention at the way you already seem to know your place beneath him.

So much so that your voice is lost on you, right? He’s been through this a thousand times before— perhaps even millions of times. So many faces, names, backgrounds. But always the same experience at the end of the day. Is he that scary? Barely there clothing keeping your mind racing as his cock bulges behind the skimpy fabric, showcasing the smallest peek of his branding tattoo upon his pelvis. His chest is on full display for your wandering eyes too, pierced for your perverted mind to dwell on; look, he communicates wordlessly with you. And like a fucking dog, you listen. Watch, his tail swirls, and your eyes, too, spin with the movement. Even his cracked horn is attractive to you, right? Perfectly sized for your grabby hands— God he can’t wait to fucking ruin you. Destroy any chance of salvation you’ve got left, if you even had any to begin with given the way you eye fuck him from the floor.

He just adores little freaks like you.

But alas, his presence seems to have sapped all of your courage. Where was that stupidly honest girl who spent all that time attempting to summon him anyway? And why did you replace her with such a meek, pretty mutt, trembling before his very boots?

It’s clear that you don’t want to make the first move— it’s rarely the case with you humans, so he steals the opportunity away from you before your small little brain has a chance to catch up with itself. You’ve fucked up now, slut, is what he’d like to say. But he’s nothing if not a business man, and he’s learnt well enough by now that he must butter you up a little, as it were, first. Formalities and all that boring shit, ugh, perish the fucking thought.

Especially since his cock is already rock hard and raring to go, he can already tell what you want from a simple glance at the way your whole body shivers at the wet spot forming against his panties.

“So,” he starts, but then you instantly flinch. And he has to try really fucking hard to suppress a sadistic smile at the sight. You've got some real pretty lips, actually. He wonders how they’ll look when stretched around his throbbing cock, all puffy and wet with spit... He clears his throat, shakes his head, and then tries again. “So, what’s the deal?”

You’ve read the rules by now, surely. They’re contained in the texts you used to summon him, his gaze flickering to the tome by your side— opened right on his page. But fuck, the human who wrote it could have at least drawn him better, surely? Looks nothing like him! The illustration does very little to capture his hard worked for abs—hours upon hours of fucking will do that to ya—nor his well cared for hair. His horns appear to remain intact on the pages too… God, it’s old. He should ask someone to update it, if only to appropriately depict his meticulously cared for beauty.

But for as stunning, quite literally, as he is, he can practically see your dumb little head working overtime to catch up to your current predicament. Self imposed, mind you. Rule number one, he can freely deny your request if he so much as wants to. He hasn’t felt the need to do so with anyone yet, so he cant see that rule being an issue now, not with someone as depraved as you. Rule number two, once he accepts your request, he must see it through to the end. He’s always prided himself on being a man— or demon, rather, that follows through on his words, so you needn’t worry there. And rule number three, you must give something up to him in the trade. Traditionally, that’d be your soul, but there are other means to please him.

He’s got an inkling you’ve not got much else to present for his tastes, though. Lonely little girl, poor in all respects, aren’t you?

“Well..?” he prompts you when you only sheepishly gulp up at him. “Out with it, mortal,” he spits the title as if it pains him to even say it, puffing his fringe from his face in feigned annoyance. It's a mere show and dance, but he figures you might appreciate it from the way you wriggle in place. “What’s the deal?”

“Um…” God, you even sound like a fucking loser. Just that one single syllable and he’s already rolling his eyes at you, though his cock nonetheless jumps at the sound of your hesitation. Stuttering and tripping all over your thoughts; haven’t you thought this through enough already? Lonely little girl, need to summon a whole ass incubus to quell the fire in your tummy? Got no humans who wanna touch you the way you need? Fucking pathetic, how utterly terrible for you, it’s laughable.

Fucking hot is what it is. Especially when you mumble a stupid little: “Y-Y’know… the usual…”

And fuck, he can’t deny the way his cock fucking throbs to life any longer at how stupidly desperate you are. Your voice is utterly dripping in loneliness, a needy plead of understanding. Of course, he does understand you. And fucking well at that, just like all of the other useless saps he’s had the misfortune of serving. But there’s a hint of something sweeter in your voice, too. A little taste of kinship, perhaps?

He can’t wait to fuck it out of you, whatever it is. Would that he could reach his fist down your throat to grab it all for himself right now, but you humans are soft and squishy and not built for such horrid actions, right?

“What’s that?” he sneers back at you, obvious in his false distaste of you. “Didn’t quite hear ya, c’mon. Speak up, human.”

He’s only giving you a taste of what's to come, he reasons with himself. You better get used to it, and soon too, if you’re ever to explore the side of you that you’ve yet to embrace. And he’s always enjoyed playing with his food, teasing with you as his cock dribbles precum against the barely there clothing he’s opted to wear tonight, flirting with his tail as it swings back and forth behind him. He had a funny feeling he’d be meeting some idiot like you tonight, so he tried his best to look the part.

“I— um, y’know… s-sex, in exchange for…”

A few more empty seconds pass, and he lets out a telling heavy sigh at your reluctance to voice exactly what you want. He hopes you aren’t this bland in bed, too. Lest he forgets that it’s often the quiet ones who are the real nasty freaks, right? Biting down on his bottom lip briefly to still his expectant heart.

“Your soul, right?” he finishes your sentence for you, snickering to himself at the way you hang your head low before nodding, as if he was the kind of company to act prude in front of. Fucking idiot.

“But,” Oh? The dummy actually has some sort of confidence? Enough to speak up with a question? His cock oozes some more, see, I was right about her. “What do you plan on doing with it? M-My soul, I mean? I wanna know before, um...”

He clicks his tongue idly. Such a let down, and yet still, lust pools in his tummy for you. He’s sure that you, too, can feel the tingles travel down to your clit. Is that why you're having difficulty talking right now? Can't catch your breath? “Whatever I want.” He answers you plain and simple, because it's true. It'd be his, you wouldn't even think about worrying over such a stupid question by the time he's done with you, so what does it matter if he answers you honestly now?

“Right, but I mean… what will you actually do with it…?”

He pauses for a moment in faux thought, then promptly follows the action up with more meaningless platitudes in the form of an absent yawn and stretch. Like he’d rather be anywhere else than right here, in your dimly lit bedroom, feasting upon your shivering body with a trembling cock and excitement swelling in his chest. “Who cares for the details, my sweet?” he internally gags at the false show he must preform before getting you under him, but nonetheless keeps you hooked on his sugary sweet lies, because he's an expert in his field. “All that matters is that I accept your request, which is what you wanted, right?”

It’s fun at least getting to watch your lagging expressions catch up, a bubbled quirk of your lips causing his chest to tighten with agitation— you’re fucking gagging for it, aren’t you? Nodding so coyly, like he’s putting words in your mouth, which he’d never; it’s against the rules of his existence. Though even if you play shy with him, he’s well aware of the darkness tainting your soul, he can almost taste the depravity in your every gasp and sigh. You just need help setting it all free, right? And, well, you can call him biased all day if you want— but he just knows that he’s the best damn demon out there to help unlock your deepest fantasies, to provide you with the lewd affection your heart oh so eagerly desires.

Losers like you always do desire, that is. Deeply, in his experience.

A tut automatically rolls off his tongue at your degenerate display, though hidden behind layers of put on shyness, he can see right through you. And he’s certainly not much better himself, he’s merely more honest. He can’t exactly afford not to be, what with the way his cock already demands your attention, red hot and angry under his panties, rubbing nicely against the soft fabric to leave him cooing for more. He clears his throat to rid the faux showmanship from his chest, letting his float drop with his heels clicking against your floorboards.

You’re so fucked, he muses to himself. Taking in the sight of your seated position by the chalked sigil on the floor, how small and soft you look down there. Humans are, always, much too soft for his liking. Unable to withstand his speed or stamina as well as his fellow kin can, but he rises up to the challenge of the glint in your eye with a puff of his chest.

It’s as hes standing right before you, tall and imposing with his fat cock pointed towards you—can you see his balls already from that angle? How fat and fucking full they are for you, the veins running along his cock just popping under your unknowingly sultry stare—it's there that he levels with you. Metaphorically speaking, because is he fuck physically dropping down to your debauched level, regardless of who he is. He’s not just cocky for the fun of it— though it is fucking fun, watching you grow smaller and smaller by the second as he inches closer, like your body intrinsically understands her place under him. But he’s got the skills and the stories to back his attitude up, to prove why he deserves to carry himself with such confidence, making sure you shake and shiver just a bit more out of apprehension before offering you a final warning.

But it’s not really a warning, not with how easily he grabs at you, swiftly forcing you to stand on two feet as his commanding presence demands of you. Wobbly knees and all, he struggles to stop the eye roll that begs to scold you at how eagerly you try to follow his instructions, whether you’re aware of it or not. It's only natural, given his lustful existence, that you'd want to adhere to him. It’s cute, you fucking predictable whore.

“Didn’t anybody teach ya not t’make deals that y’can’t hold up, slut?”

Venom spits from his tongue in the reprimand, his pointed tail swishing behind him in interest at the way you pleasantly shiver in his bullying hold, unable to speak up for yourself as he sneers down at your quivering bottom lip. And then, disgust tugs at his expression, boring dagger eyes against your woozy gaze back at him.

Of fucking course. Loser girls like you don't know what it's like to receive attention, right? Any kind, even his perversion, is good attention to you. Even if you don't understand why your tummy turns with butterflies upon his seedy inspection; look, he likes your tits! That’s enough, right? That makes you feel all squirmy in his hold, struggling to keep your composure at the way he eyes you up and down, as if sizing you up. It is, obviously, not even a fucking question. But he deeply enjoys the way you appear meek under his gaze, his presence seemingly already affecting you to the point of submission— dirty fucking mutt.

“You’re gross.” He barks at you, letting go of you without warning only to selfishly watch you fall back down onto your ass— there’s no need to treat such an awful girl like you, one who gets off on getting bullied into submission, with any kind of respect. That’d only work against his goals, right? No… lonely girls like you need mistreatment, because it’s all you’re fucking used to getting anyway. A cycle of abuse that’s led you straight to him, his cock drooling all over himself at the mere thought of your misfortune. Poor thing, you just don’t know any better! So here you are, scrambling to get back onto your knees at least as he tugs his explicit panties to the side to show you exactly what he thinks about whores like you. He can do nothing but take advantage of you, really, because it’s what your body is begging him for.

But for someone so fucking lame in every respect, you somehow manage to endear him with those big wide doe eyes and fluttering lashes staring back at his cock when it greets your line of sight. Adorning the tip is a little silver ball, pierced just for you, didn’t you know? Fat and wet, beads of precum already dripping from the metal and onto your floor with a light thud! from the way you practically drool over him already. Is his stink that strong?

He hasn’t even started subduing you with his pheromones yet, you fucking slut. Not on purpose, anyway. Maybe a little unknowingly, but it’s like he said— he can’t help himself when it comes to loser girls like you. Residing a soft spot in his heart for you in spite of his rough exterior; you’ll be so fun to toy with.

With a click of his fingers, a cigarette pops into his mouth, shortly followed by a flicker of flame between his index finger and thumb. He takes a long inhale of the stick, a moments breather to carefully watch your movements as your lips part and hot air fans across his demonic dick. Fuck, you must know what you’re doing to him, right? Barely exhaling any smoke before puffing away at his cigarette again in sheer sexual tension, and then he exhales the excess smoke across your face— a fair exchange, don’t you think? But he can’t stop himself from looking at those pouty lips. Pretty and puffy, so soft looking even from afar. It’s impossible not to want to fuck em, ruin them and make em all messy with his precum. The perfect lip gloss, don’t you think?

“C’mon then,” he prompts you nonchalantly, wagging his cock in your direction with his free hand while adopting a rather bored expression at your avid display, a smirk working its way to his lips at the thought that you probably have zero experience in this regard. So he helps, just a little. Just to get things moving for his own sake. Grabbing the base of his cock unceremoniously to tap his tip against your pouty lips, inevitably smearing copious amounts of precum across them to leave you all glossy and glazed, shit… His piercing looks so nice when pressed against your pout. “Get to work, slut.”

You huff a little, eyes crossed momentarily to watch another fat bead of pre dribble from his tip. Or are you eyeing up the silver adorning it? Wondering how it’ll feel when lodged far down your throat, further than you’ve ever felt before? “Aren’t you supposed to be working for—”

“Quit yer fuckin’ yappin’.” he scolds your question by taking the opportunity of your useless mumbles to instead shove his cock past your open lips, puffing away at his cigarette lazily as you sputter around his surprise intrusion. Sure enough, he’s here to service you, but he’s been called a selfish lover plenty times before. And he’s not about to change that for some fucking slut like you, a lowly human bossing him around? Fucking never. And besides, a little cock sucking is the least you could do for him, providing the experience he’s about to give you anyway.

But rather shockingly, you simply let him rest his tip upon your tongue without much resistance. Dribbling salty precum across your taste buds— not that you had much of a choice in the matter to begin with anyway, but it’s real nice to feel you relax around him immediately, enough so that his hips twitch further into you and his cock slips down your throat with ease. As much of it as you can fit in for a novice, anyway. You might have sucked a few cocks in your short lifetime; pity parties, no doubt. But you’re about to learn real fucking fast how to suck a cock well. Lucky you, you’ve got the best teacher for just that.

Without warning, he fish hooks your cheek. Devilish nails just barely digging in against the inside of your cheek, pulling your mouth further open for his gawking enjoyment. He leans back with the movement, towering above you to adore at half his cock down your throat. “Here,” he clicks down at you, blowing another trail of smoke against your face and likely down your throat for you to choke on. The snap of your cheek closing back around his cock causes him to hiss with unashamed excitement, trailing his nails against your scalp before grabbing at it. Rough and needy, he dribbles some more precum against your tongue— but with purpose now. “Give it a min.”

And true to his word, a minute is all it takes for him to feel your jaw slacken around his fat cock, precum laced with numbing; cause you’re a fucking baby, apparently, and need his help to suck a cock. But he’s too prideful to make this experience anything other than the best for you, if only to save his closely held reputation. He wonders if you can taste the metal adorning his tip, too?

“There ya go,” he praises you with a sickening smile, flashing his pearly white fangs as much of a threat as it is genuine joy from how easy it is to slip further down your tight throat now. “Much better, right? Slutty fucking throat, shit—”

He accidentally fucks a little too much of his cock inside all at once, coaxed into movement from how hard he throbs for your warm, wet little maw, and he has to drop his cigarette from his lips to hide a genuine moan behind his arm. The fuck— he’s never once felt so good so fast with any slut before, but the feeling of your squirmy tongue obediently wrapping around the underside of his cock as if on instinct fucking gets to him. Unfairly so, really, because he’s soon gripping at your hair even tighter, and yanking it back and forth; settling into a brutal pace from the get go. Far too mean for a slut in training like you, but he figures that if you already have pleasure shivers rolling down his spine just from throating his cock a little, you can handle further roughhousing. Must be his pierced tip, right? Cold metal to cool down the heat he fucks in and out of your throat, dripping precum right down your throat from how well he abuses you; fucking choke on it, slut.

His touch is as unjust as his thrusts down your dulled throat are, humping his hips against your cheeks with resounding slaps! against your chin with how wet with precum his balls are. Or is it spit? Drooling out from your wanton lips with his eager fucks, keeping your head pinned to his pelvis as he ruts into you with reckless abandon. Like his reputation means nothing to him the moment he watches your doe eyes roll back in impish desire and he can almost swear that he feels you smile against his rock hard cock. “Feelin’ good already, huh?” he mocks you, in spite of how much he’s acting up himself. Doing his best to save face in an effort to keep your submission by his side, but his dominance slips with every pass of his cock against your constricting throat. “Haven’t even touched ya yet, an’ you’re already gagging fr’more, aint’cha? Pathetic” he tries to laugh, but it comes out gasped and strained— embarrassing.

“You're fucking filthy,” he distracts you with more dirty words, fucking your face with a particularly cruel thrust to emphasis his explicit power over you. And you should be fucking thankful that he offered to numb your throat first with how fervently he chases the good feeling welling up in his tummy. Muscles all tight and taut, making sure you can’t escape his greedy fucks out of sheer need to stake his claim on you, to literally steal your breath away as his own. “You might look like a good girl, but fuck me,” he half laughs, cutting the sound of enjoyment off short so as to not reward you too much. That, and he has to exhale a huff of bliss from the way your numbed throat still yet squeezes tight around him with every dirty swallow you instinctively make around his tip. Like you enjoy having him violate you, using you for all your worth— that is to say, just your body. “Might look like a good girl, but y’were fucking made fr’takin’ cock, yeah?”

He knows a sinner when he sees one, and you sure looked so lonely, y’know? Creeping in the darkness of your own solitary room, awaiting the forbidden creature of lust to crawl into your lap like some dog to save you from the purity cast upon you by an unforgiving God. But, it’s even better to have his thoughts come true when he can feel how much sin you’re dripping with, staining you chin all shiny and sticky with the spit his fat cock throat fucks out of you, drooling on yourself in an eager display of want. He can already taste how desperate you are, gulping down around his cock without even knowing, because your body was made to serve, to please, and he’s not about to let the opportunity you’ve unfortunately presented to him tonight pass by.

By the end of tonight, he promises to make you his. Stupid slut, you should never have made a deal with him in the first place, because look at you now... All dewy eyed and fucked.

He could hump your mouth for hours on end, all day if he had the time, at least until it's sore. But he doesn't; or rather, he can’t right now. Because it’s downright embarrassing how close he is to cumming already, his cheeks flushed under your glazed gaze and jaw tight with barely contained restraint— not that it matters too much anyway; as an incubus, he could go on for eternity if he could be bothered to. No refractory period and what not. Load after load buried deep down in your every hole, fuck… he just knows that you’d enjoy that, especially given the fact that you brace your little human hands against the fat of his otherworldly thighs just to offer him the gentlest bite of your nails digging into his skin, like the fucking whore you’ve always been deep down inside.

He’ll thank you, maybe, someday, for seeking him to fuck her out of you.

But not anytime soon, for he’s far too enamoured by the way your tongue glides along his cock, leaving his tip sopping wet with lots of spit thanks to his incubus influence. Except, somehow better than he’s ever experience before. Like he’s finding out how everything is supposed to feel all over again, exploring that expert whore throat of yours with heavy weight behind his every thrust and a bite of his lip. You might be more sin than he is, he thinks to himself mid stroke, hips stuttering against your lips as he feels the way the tip of your tongue pokes against his slit, rolling his piercing around, and he’s fucking done for.

He immediately promises to get back at you, sooner rather than later.

“Fucking slut—” he briefly chokes on his words, unbelieving of the fact that ropes of hot seed now coat the inside of your mouth, dripping down your throat for you to gulp at when his hips refuse to let up on milking himself. His tone is as scathing as his cum is plenty, leaving you to struggle to take him for once tonight; though he hopes that it wont be the last. He does, however, carefully consider the way that you almost immediately swallow up as much of him as you can, and how that can’t solely be down to his influence on you. That isn't the naturally secreting aphrodisiacs doing, is it? “Harlot, God— fuckin’ take it then.”

He needn’t be so rude, but the way you look back at his harsh words and even meaner touch with hearts in your eyes is all the motivation he needs to continue. If you were seeking purity and kindness, you wouldn’t be swallowing every last drop of incubus cum, now would you? Laced with aphrodisiac, oops… Maybe he forgot to tell you about such details?

You’re a quick learner though, he’s saw as much. Letting his cock drop from your cum stained lips with a loud gulp of air, all sticky and white as a string keeps him connected to you, and he can practically see the confusion present on your stupid fucking face.

And like the demon he is, he takes advantage of your state of inebriation.

“More?” he rasps down at you, his heart racing at the mere prospect, cock still rock hard and an angry shade of red before your gasping mouth. “Y’want more already?” he says it with such feigned surprise, as if it were utterly inconceivable that a hole like you could want for anything but his cock rammed so deep into you that you forget your own name. An attempt to shame you from his holier than thou position, even if only because he’s much taller than you. In fairness, while he’s obviously (the most) part to blame for your sudden descension into demon-hood, clawing at his legs like a woman starved, voicelessly begging for just a little more, please, then we can be done—he knows it’s never just a little more—he thinks that he can’t carry all the burden of blame. Not when you look so fucking cute beneath him, pathetic and small, as you should be. Relying on him to take care of you, to show you how good you can really feel when no one else wanted to even think about touching a fucking loser like you. It’s your own fucking fault that you summoned a demon tonight, let alone one made in Lust’s image, and actually struck a deal with him. It’s your fault that your soft and squishy and pretty human body takes his abuse oh so well, a taunting coo escaping his lips at the way you softly nod back up at him, dumb and stupid, like it doesn't matter what he's saying, only that he's talking, and you want to listen.

It’s your own fucking fault that he can’t reign himself back in, not now, not after experiencing how well you suck cock after a little coaxing.

“Dummy.” He mocks you, adorning a mimicked pout at the way you’ve so easily been put under his spell. “Up,” he practically commands of you, adopting a snap authoritarian tone to combat his shivering spine. “On the bed, then.” He points to your lacking place of rest, following your raring steps with his own slow ones, cock bobbing between his legs with his constant erection. He can’t help it, you’re begrudgingly too cute to ignore, annoyance present in the way he shoves you into position as soon as he’s close enough to get his hands back on you. With his back resting against your bed headboard, and you pushed down to the end of the bed, he leers at the way your thighs rub together in anticipation, following your gaze down to his leaking cock front and centre. The silver ball atop it sparkling in your dim bedroom light, beckoning you forward as much as his curling finger and devious smirk does.

All it takes is a quick snap of his fingers to see you undressed, clothing falling from your body as if by magic. Demon perks or something. But fuck— he has to physically cover his mouth to hide his apparent shock, biting down on his tongue to quell the want to praise how pretty you are underneath it all.

He’s never quite met someone just like you before. How you clamber into position so easily, happily mumbling something—he couldn’t care less, truthfully, for the meaning behind your words. Only that you’re wearing such a dumb smile while hovering his rock hard cock—without a thought behind those pretty fluttering lashes. Fucked your throat so good, right? Not a single thought, no worries or anxieties… you just feel good, huh? Just as he'd internally promised you. Of course, he’s accepting of his part of the blame. It’s in his nature to seduce, tapping into his seedy essence to lull you into a state of perpetual arousal; or for as long as he sees fit, he’s sure he’s got other things that need tending to besides your pretty princess pussy today. But the innate neediness present in your actions, in the way you playfully bite your lip when ghosting your hole over his cock, letting your hands fall against his chest for stability; and worse yet, he allows you to dig your nails in again too. How you have his brows furrowing and hands automatically finding home on your hips, toying with your skin with little pokes and pinches— you’ve got him stuck, acting out of pure selfish need to tear you in two. Got him feeling a little dizzy with desire, as if this wasn’t his literal job and he hasn’t got all the experience in the world when it comes to wooing. Like you were fucking lying to him this whole time.

Which isn’t true, he knows. He has to help you stabilise your wobbly legs as you tuck them under yourself, straddling his waist like a newborn babe. You certainly aren’t as experienced as he is, but there’s something innately lewd about your being that he can’t even hope ignore. Cock straining under you, jerking in an automatic attempt to fill your hole.

Something that he wants to fuck into submission over, and over, and over again. Until you’re crying and begging for his mercy, because how fucking dare you get to him like this? Have him feeling like a fucking virgin all over again… It’s embarrassing, a humiliating clutch on his chest that he grits his teeth at in response just to bear the pain.

“Hurry up, slut,” he grabs hold of your waist tighter, showcasing his greater strength with such ease that even he’s a little surprised when you almost fall off his lap. “Don’t got all day.”

While he’s reprimanding you, he understands that ultimately, he’s the one in control. And he fucking bets that you wouldn’t have it any other way too, given how disgustingly lovesick you appear under his spell. Allowing him to manhandle you to his hearts content, a mix of sweet sighs and stupid babbles; he can just make out a repeat of please tumbling from your cock stained lips, and he’d hate to admit just how much he fucking loves hearing you beg for him out loud.

Which is strange, because he’s never felt the same way with any other unfortunate soul who just so happened upon him, intentionally or not. But hearing you completely stop breathing when the ball of his piercing runs along your slit, only to penetrate your cute little cunt a second later, is like music to his blushing ears.

Blushing ears? For fucks sake. His concentration is dwindling the longer he lets his tip catch against your entrance, simply seeping precum against your hole—not that you need it, mind you. Not with how your cunt simply drools over his cock already, you can thank the aphrodisiac for that. It's just that... He fears that if he were to move too much, he might do something he’d regret.

And he wouldn’t want to break his new favourite toy just after finding her, right?

But you mewl so gently, a soft sigh of some words, mumbled between gasps for air as he keeps you still on his cock. A little “Whitney…” escaping past your lips, promising to be your own undoing at the mere first syllable of his name.

It’s been a long fucking time since anyone has called him as such.

“Slut,” he reflexively scolds you, emphasising his frustration with how utterly and annoyingly perfect you feel when wrapped so tight around just his tip, as if you were the demon of lust, and he was your unwilling victim. “You’re such a fuckin’ slut,” his cock humps into you in one flick thrust, buried as deep as possible as soon as possible to leave you choking on his girth. You shouldn’t be letting him touch you like this, treating you as a mere pocket pussy as opposed to the human being that you really are, but he can’t deny how fucking good it feels to force his way into your tight heat, causing him to choke on his own words. “Fuck—” is all that escapes him, and try as he might to continue degrading you, the wind is knocked out of him from the perfect squeeze of your cunt, so warm and wet and fucking tight for his unnaturally fat cock, and he has to shake his head to rid the thoughts that you were made for him specifically.

Perish the thought of getting attached to your tight little cunt, he adopts a bruising grip of your waist to have you idly grind his cock, circling your hips atop his pelvis until he feels like he’s actually in control again, and not a heaving mess under you. Until he can catch his breath, and focus solely on how good your insides feel when squirming around him like that, his attention unable to choose between your scrunched up expression of pleasure as his tip humps against your cervix, or the way your cunt lips swallow his cock whole, leaving no trace of him behind.

Holy shit— There’s nothing quite like loser girl cunt, right? Needy, desperate, fucking whiny, loser girl cunt. Begging on the end of his cock while you sit atop his fat balls, once again full of cum just for you. All for you.

In reality, he knows that he’s the slut. It’s bred into him, soldered into his very DNA to fuck all the moves, including little shits like you who drive him up the fucking wall from how good you feel, dripping desperation down his cock as he lets you get used to the stretch he forces you to endure; he doesn’t want to break you yet, remember? There’s time yet to destroy this perfect little pussy, you should be fucking thankful that he’s playing nice tonight. Treating you with kindness he seldom shows with others— even if it irks him to do so.

And lest he forget his demonic ways, clicking his tongue at you once to criticise just how easy you are for him. Barely holding yourself upright on his cock as he swirls you around lazily, doing his best to keep up the dominating appearances in the face of your complete lack of such.

“Wanna see how demons do it?”

He’s not really asking you a question— he’s aware that you aren’t of the right mind to provide him a proper answer either. And even he, too, struggles to get the words out. Trembling with pleasure under you, unknowingly letting his hips roll into you just a little, a real meagre amount of friction to coax him into action. He’s as much a victim as you are at the moment. And he can’t stand that. So without waiting for your reply, he snaps his fingers at your side and strengthens his grip on your waist.

If he’s being honest, he can’t quite discern whether you’ve noticed the change of scenery before you or not, but your wobbly frame gives your body away at least. Levitating mid-air with his cock buried balls deep in your pretty pussy, floating on thin air— a small party trick at best, but there’s a part of him that wants to indulge in you. To really enjoy stealing the last remnants of innocence—if you even had any to begin with—away with one final heavy sigh. For he must steel himself for what’s to come, his heart thumping unusually at the way you flutter your lashes back down at him, pretty fucking loser, it’s a shame this life is wasted on such a good fucking fleshlight like you.

He’s never once wanted to ruin a human as much as he does with you. To utterly desecrate you would bring him so much joy, he figures. Steal your soul, remove you from all that you’ve ever known, and eat you alive. Over, and over, and over again. With varying tempos, different settings, fuck you into violation for all eternity and then some. Only then, he thinks, will he be satisfied.

Only then will your debt be paid to him, for ruining him for all else.

“Look at me,” his voice comes out all raspy, dripping with lust to immediately grab your hazy attention only for him to gawk at the dopey smile you flash his way. “Look at me while I fuck you, slut.” His hips pull down, leaving only the tip to remain inside of your cunt for you to whine loudly at. The loss of stuffing causing you to claw at his chest, a pleased hiss crawling up his throat for him to bite back with pitying laughter. You’re so fucking dumb already, with only one load of cum seeping in your tummy, his cock twitches at the mere imagined scene of how you’ll act when he fills your pretty pussy up with seed too, drowning you in his sweet aphrodisiac.

And though he has to physically tilt your chin in his direction, drinking in the sight of your shivering frame that his tail automatically curls around, it’s worth the fucking wait to witness the pure nothingness behind those pretty eyes. And they’re so teary too, of which he isn’t sure is caused by the lack of cock in your cunt, or the fear of having him ram it back into you… But he feels this burning desire well up in his tummy to produce some more anyway.

It only takes him a moment to disregard his thoughts and act purely on instinct alone, as God had intended of him. As he fucking should, finally.

Giving in to the way his tip leaks and stains your insides as his, he fucks his full fat cock back into your too tight little hole, humming contentedly at the way you instinctively arch your back all pretty and shit for him, moaning a broken string of sounds when he doesn’t let up from that first dirty thrust upwards. The sight of you struggling to take his girth and length even in spite of the additional aphrodisiac his precum continues to coat your insides with is so addictive, has him throwing even more weight behind his humps than he usually does, just to torture you that little bit more. Because you can take it, right? Because you’re now his slut, and his slut just loves to take his abuse so well, right? Body and mind, fucking you at such a pace that you’ve got no fucking choice other than to just take his brutal assault to your cunt, his tongue poking out in sheer concentration of how the effects of his aphrodisiac reap results in the tightest cunt he’s fucked yet— like you’re somehow made more susceptible to his charms or something— fuck, he can’t fucking focus on his thoughts when you’re mewling so pretty like that, dumb little baby with her tongue lolling out and pretty tits bouncing with his every heavy, claiming thrust. But you’re taking him so well, beyond his rather low expectations, anyway. And it’s distracting.

Though, it really doesn’t matter the reason behind how well your cunt sucks him off, because all that tumbles out of his dry and hoarse throat is a fucked out meagre “Tight fuck, ain’tcha?” his cheeks warming at the lacking dirty talk, but it’s not like he hears you complaining or anything. Quite the opposite, really. Leaning into his abusive touch, bruising your hips as he holds you in one place in the air, ducking and fucking his hips instead of making you move so as to leave you a drooling mess of a girl. So attractive to him, the way you can no longer form anything coherent, simple sounds of enjoyment and surprise escaping your puffy bitten lips from how often you chew on em in sheer pleasure. The complete lack of, well.. Anything going on in your head at the moment coaxes him into driving his hips into you harder, a little faster, as if begging for your attention some more. Look, it’s me that’s making you feel so good. It was worth it, right? Selling your soul for some cock, fucking idiot, such a good fucking lay, holy shit—

It’s been a while since he’s had a fuck as good as this.

But he’s nothing if not mean, watching the way you so clearly enjoy his thrusts, fucking into you with some inhuman speed or rhythm or tempo that you’re not used to— an attempt to convince you onto his side, and it’d be clear to anyone watching that it’s working. You are, however, a mere mutt to him. A sexy one at that, he’d admit only to himself. Pouting and huffing and sighing and moaning; he can find no other word to describe you other than perfect. Which is exactly why he has to be mean to you, to regain his hold over you.

So he stops. Ceasing all movement, no matter how much it physically pains him not to feel the wet suck of your insides attempting to keep him inside, bringing a thumb up to smooth over your hips, his cock throbbing with unadulterated want at the way tears bubble over your lash line to mark your cheeks a shade darker. Exactly, that’s the kind of power he wants to hold over you, forever and ever, so long as you exist. Nobody would blame him for keeping this pussy all to himself, surely.

And if they did, he wouldn’t care.

But before you have a chance to voice your concerns over his limited movement— because he still continues to hump against you. Fully sheathed in your little hole, and still yet he attempts to fuck deeper with barely there humps upwards. He doesn’t mean to, it’s just what your body does to him. Leaves his mind in a hot daze, swallowing thickly in the face of your whimpers for more, please, gimmie more—

He snorts laughter back at you, rolling his eyes in a faux show of boredom. If anything, he’s barely fucking holding on, digging his nails into your hips as a last ditch effort to restrain himself. It only earns him a pretty gasp from you though, which makes his situation all the more dire.

“S’your turn.” He pats your ass a couple of times, smirking up at you when you squeal excitedly in return; you humans are always so receptive to his touch, it’d be difficult to deny how cute it is to feel the way you squirm around on his cock to prepare yourself, one of his hands coming down to support one of your legs to make the act of bouncing mid-air a bit more tolerable. Though it should be easy, he chastises you internally. Weren’t you paying attention to how well he fucked you moments prior?

“Fuck me like y’need somethin’ from me, yeah?” he taunts you, voice low and seedy, leering at your misplaced determination as you brace yourself upon his body— though perhaps his words were a mistake…

Because he certainly wasn’t prepared for you to match his energy, enthusiastically lifting yourself up for a second or two only to allow yourself to fully drop the moment you’re given enough freedom to do so, hanging on to his every gasp and groan as his mind reels to catch up to his bodily reaction; fat cock just oozing fat beads of sticky precum into your squishy hole, leaving him dazed with the full feeling of how your cunt tries to suck him in deeper, how she twitches and squeezes so expertly around his cock— he can’t fucking stand you.

So he helps, just a small amount. You’d barely even notice the way he fucks up into you a little extra when you slam all the way down on his lap, one of his hands coming up to roam over your thighs, your tummy, pinching at every inch of skin he can reach to leave you just as tingly as you’re making him feel right now. His body positively vibrating with sexual gratification, cock trembling against every inch of your cunt; all the way up to your cervix with little kisses from his piercing. It’s almost impossible to get a hold of himself, tummy muscles tense to bear the brunt of your eager bounces, arms flexed under the weight of your exertion. And he can see the sweat collect on your forehead, body warming under his incubus ways, his lewd intent to swallow you whole— soul and all. Heating you up further with his nails raking up to your bouncing tits, taking an immediate liking to how soft they feel in his perverted paw— so much so that he just has to pinch at your nipple to make you whine like a bitch in heat, leaving him in shock and awe over how much he loves those sounds you’re making in response. He’ll teach you to enjoy pain soon enough, but it’s just as much fun getting to see you wince in the mix of hurt and comfort, unsure how to react when he rolls the bud between his fingers, tugging on your overly sensitive skin for his own personal enjoyment. It’s nice, isn’t it? It hurts though, doesn’t it?

Surely you must be close now, he bets. Given that he had neglected to let you cum earlier, he’s about ready to bust again himself, meaning that he might finally allow you some release, too. The ball of arousal in your tummy must be wound up so tight by now, especially since you frantically fuck yourself fucking stupid on his cock, providing him a silly amount of stimulation— enough to let him know that you’re gone. Far too gone to think reasonably now, focused solely on simply feeling good; which means that he has you exactly where he wants you.

“That’s it,” he encourages you, though for selfish means only. He wants to keep feeling good too, it’s all he exists for, really. “Fuck, dont’cha want a little fuck trophy in your tummy, huh?”

A baby, of course, would not exist without his explicit intent. And he doesn’t intend on impregnating you— yet. But the addition of his hand that was holding your weight now moving to your tummy, rubbing the area above your womb so delicately in stark contrast to his otherwise rough treatment, seems to get you going with newfound vigour. Sat square on his cock, buried as deep as he can go in the hopes of his seed taking root, right? And it’s fucking hot to him, thinking about breeding you. Turning you into his little breeding bitch, fucking slut, you’d make the perfect little forever play thing, y’know?

And it seems you agree, pushing his hand harsher over your womb, heat spreads from his fingertips to privately mark you as his own. An instinct at best, a deep seated wish at worst. He opts not to think about it too much in the moment, far too focused on the way you grind your puffy cunt against his pelvis, as if attempting to find more cock to fuck into your greedy hole. Trying to match him?

Insatiable slut, he fucking loves it.

Despite everything that’s happened so far, form the way you must have spent so long summoning him— it’s not easy, he made it so. To how simple you were for him to seduce, a little cock sucking and you were like melted putty in the palm of his hands, or rather, on the end of his cock. All the way up to how well you ride him, like the flawless slut you’ve always been deep down inside, right? Humping his fat cock to your hearts content, hungry with your pretty bounces up and down, seeking his seed. In spite of it all, perhaps the final nail in the coffin of your devious deal is the way you desperately grab at his horns mid hump for more stability. That, in actuality, is what seals your deal for him. Renders him useless under you, a huffed growl crawling up his chest to scold your obscene action, whether you realise it or not; he’s sensitive there, especially when you tug on em so tightly, pretty pussy choking his cock almost as snugly, too.

It’s such a rash decision, how his hips start snapping up into you again, removing the option of choice from you with his sheer strength alone dictating the pace. Too fast for you to keep up with, turning you into a sobbing little fuck with the wet slap of his balls against you. Plump and so full for you, God, so fucking full again— he doesn’t think he’ll tire of you quickly. Which is a shame for you, honestly. He’s going to fuck you senseless, within an inch of your life, beyond that which he normally attains with his victims.

“Stupid bitch—” he grabs at the fat of your thighs, swiftly tipping you over mid air so that he’s on top of you, fucking away at your squelchy little hole with fast fucks and heaved breaths. Taking the opportunity of your dumb confusion to slip his pointed tail between your legs to rub away at yout slippery little clit, begging with every choked moan and groan to have you cumming already; he can’t last too much longer now. Not with your tiny human hands still yet on his horns, tugging him closer, pulling on his weak spots so carelessly— it’s about time he returns the favour in kind, no? Flicking his tail with practiced precision against your overly sensitive clit, overstimulating you into attempting to crawl away from him, pushing him off as much as you can— but it’s no fucking use. This is exactly what you signed up for, slut. His hips don’t slow down despite your protests, not even when you start to cry from the intense waves of pleasure that soon rock through you, creaming his cock so well, all sticky and messy and loud for him as he keeps his attention on your clit, circling her so good, but it’s too much for you to handle, isn’t it? His voice comes out in broken laughter, caught off by a genuine whimper of appreciation for how tight your hole gets mid orgasm.

“My whore.”

And the fact that your mind is so numbed from cumming so good—best orgasm of your life he bets—as well as the additional help from his naturally secreting aphrodisiac, broken beyond repair from the way his cock fucks right up to your cervix over and over again, ignoring the fact that you’re shaking in his bruising hold of your body, focused solely on making you feel how upset he is with your display tonight, how he intends to make you his— it culminates in perhaps the best orgasm of his life too. Chest tightening, tail straightening, eyes rolling with his head thrown back, nails digging into the fat of your tummy; fat ropes of seed are sure to follow. Heavy and milky, sticking to your insides with insidious intent, filling you so full of his demon stink that not a single soul alive or dead would even think about approaching you, let alone touching you.

But he’s not done there. He allows you the absolute pleasure of having him milk his fat cock inside of you, until you’re so full of cum that it dribbles out around his girth and drops down to the ruffled sheets below. It’s fine, you won’t be washing them any time soon. And besides, it’s fucking hot getting to watch you squirm on the puddle of white as he unceremoniously drops you back down onto the bed, your chest heaving for air as you smack down to the centre of the bed, bright blushing cheeks shooting arrows into his dead heart.

If it was fate that he was to meet you tonight, then surely fate has decided to damn you too, right? Left you pliant and unaware, submissively offering yourself up to him with your legs spreading on instinct as he gently lowers himself too to match your level. Fate has always been so cruel, hasn’t she? Ever unkind, unfair in the way he instantly pounces back upon you, pinning your wrists above your head as his cock bobs to your pleas for… Well, he can’t quite decipher exactly what you’re begging for. Only that the fat tears that roll down your cheeks turn him on more than anything before, and he needs to fuck some more of em outta ya.

He bets your cunt is all sore from his abuse by now too, huh? Red and puffy, he strokes a finger up and down once before dipping into your sopping wet hole, knuckle deep from how thoroughly he’s fucked you wide open, split you in two on his cock— “Promise,” he almost whines for you, but you thankfully aren’t aware enough to pick up on his desperation. “Promise t’make y’feel good for the rest of your sad little life.” He smiles through his words, face scrunched up in shock and awe at the way you look so pretty when getting ruined from the inside out.

Finger fucking you at the same pace as his thrusts, he’s being all too mean to you, he knows. But you can’t blame him for chasing that high of your cries, fuck, he could probably cum on the spot just from watching you helplessly endure his assault, sniffling and huffing sobs as he buries his finger knuckle deep before introducing another. Curling them at the tail end of his fucks, a dirty chuckle slipping past his lips.

“All mine now,” and he’s being truthful. You traded your soul for this, yeah? A life of solitude and cock, left hungry for his scornful touch, body forever left begging for his abuse. “All fuckin’ mine,” he promises you, for there’s no escaping his strength now that he’s had a taste of your soft body. “If only y’weren’t so fucking cute, if only y’didn’t take abuse so well—”

He hadn’t intended on making you cum three times tonight, content enough simple to play with his newfound toy until he grew bored of your whimpers for more. But he’s nonetheless satisfied when your body struggles to cum again, cute cunt convulsing around the rough pads of his fingers as he helps you ride out another good feeling. Barking laughter down at you when you have trouble catching your breath— have you even been listening to him for the past while? Do you understand what the fuck you’ve done?

Other than destroy any chance of him being content with any other hole in future. Good fucking slut.

He regrets meeting you already.

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 14 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Once again, Anna can't seem to get what she wants from Kevin. Bob realizes she needs a break, and the last thing he wants to do is leave her alone. He convinces her to go somewhere he knows she will be safe.

Warnings: Angst, Kevin is a dick, bruises on Anna's arm, adult language, 18+

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

Of course this would happen. On the day when Anna was supposed to meet Bob, one of her colleagues from the English department actually wanted to chat in the lounge. Dr. Lukas was usually quiet, but today he wanted to have an in depth conversation about Anna's Classics lecture and whether or not she would mind if he sat in.

"Please, stop by any time. I would love to get some feedback from you." If she was going to stay in San Diego and try for tenure, she may as well get friendly with someone who'd been at the university for longer than she'd been alive. When she finally excused herself to drop the stack of quizzes she printed in her office before heading to Chippy's, she felt a little sadder. 

Would she be able to stay here indefinitely? Could she give up on her manuscript and get something just as fulfilling out of her job teaching here? She wanted to have both. Something about being with Bob and knowing he was falling for her made her feel like she could have both. Her manuscript and her job. The best thing about her old life and one of the best things about her new life in California.

Lost in thought as she took the elevator back up, she turned down the hallway to her office and almost screamed when her door came into view. She froze up, somehow unable to decide if fight or flight was her best option. But it didn't matter. He saw her. He was already walking her way. Once again, he had the upper hand in this scenario. Even when she tried to catch him off guard, he managed to surprise her just as much. 

And now a truly devastating thought occurred to her. Kevin knew where she worked. He had taken it upon himself to figure that much out. But what if he knew more than that?

"Anna," he said with a smile as if he was greeting an old friend and not his estranged wife he spent years taking advantage of. "I've been waiting for you."

A chill ran down her spine as she tried to push her shoulders back to her tallest height, and she knew he could tell she was nervous. "Waiting for what, Kevin?"

"Well," he started blandly, "you thought it was okay to interrupt my work event, so I decided I would do the same."

Her stomach felt like it sank to her feet. She needed to find a way to send him packing before she could attempt to leave the building. "I actually have plans tonight, so..."

He laughed in response. "You mean the nerdy guy with glasses? Yeah, I already sent him packing. Your plans are with me now."

"What do you mean you sent him packing?" Did Bob try to stop by her office rather than waiting for her at Chippy's? When she took her phone from her pocket to text him, Kevin snatched it from her fingertips.

Anna was completely alone with him right now, and he was scowling down at her. "I said your plans are with me. I'll hold onto this if it's going to be a distraction for you."

When she crossed her arms over her chest, she could feel the tender bruises on her arm where he grabbed her at his conference. She shouldn't have gone there, and now she didn't know what to do. When Kevin pocketed her phone, she asked, "Would you like to sit in my office and talk?"

"No," he replied calmly. "I think we should go back to your apartment on Monroe Avenue to chat."

There was no use in denying the fact that he just named her street, so she didn't even try. "I think I'd rather chat here."

"And I think I'd rather chat about your manuscript somewhere more private," he snapped even though nobody was around. Then he pulled a USB drive from his pocket, and Anna wanted to lunge for it on his open palm. "We can discuss how you're going to split any profits with me."

Before she could even make a decision about reaching for it, Kevin's fingers closed around it again. He already knew where she lived, and if he actually had her writing with him, she needed to try to play by his rules. "Fine," she told him, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "But only if you give me back my phone."

He nodded once. "As soon as we get to my rental car which is parked a block and a half away."

She could make it that far. She kept her eyes on him as she unlocked her office door, dropped off her quizzes for the following day and locked up again behind her. Then she followed a few steps behind Kevin as he walked down the stairs, out of the building and along the sidewalk, not stopping until he got to a silver Lexus.

"Phone," Anna said, realizing that Bob was going to think she stood him up at this point. That idea made her more upset at the moment than anything Kevin could do to her. She held out her hand and Kevin placed it on her palm. She saw some missed calls from Bob, but she didn't want to piss Kevin off any further at the moment, so she dropped it into her bag. 

When they were both inside the rental car on the very short drive to her place, Kevin said, "So, Anna, how do you like living in California?"

"It's better than New Jersey," she retorted immediately. 

Kevin snorted. "What's the saying? A New Jersey eight is a California three? I'm surprised you got that poor guy to sleep with you. And I'm surprised you can go out in the sun here without getting a blistering sunburn all over your freckles."

Anna sat there quietly, counting her blessings. She really only had three of them. Friends, a job, and her own apartment. "Are you going to give me that USB drive?" she asked when they were close to her place.

"If you sign some paperwork for me. You seemed keen on waving some bullshit from your lawyer in my face yesterday, so I'm sure I can get you to take a look at what I brought with me."

She hated him and his tone of voice, but mostly she hated the idea of him inside her apartment with her. She took a deep breath as she eventually unlocked her door and let him follow her into her tiny studio.

"Nice place," he said, clearly mocking everything he saw.

"Is it any shock to you that this is all I can afford, Kevin?" she snapped.

"I guess my medical degree is worth more than your arts PhD, huh? God bless medical school."

"You paid for it with my dime," she hissed, barely in control of her emotions now. She could see a smile spreading across Kevin's lips, and she knew she desperately needed to get a grip.

"You were a pretty good wife in some respects," he said, laughing at the look on her face. "But now you've become a pain in my ass. And the little stunt you pulled yesterday at my conference was enough to make me want to find you and let you know how it's going to be from here on out. Okay, Anna?"

When she didn't respond, he pulled that little USB drive from his jacket pocket along with a single folded up piece of paper. He smoothed it out before handing it to her. 

"Go ahead and sign that for me, and you can have what you want." That little bit of plastic was back on his palm, and she was almost afraid to take her eyes off of it to read the document. But when she did, she found it was drafted up by his lawyer. He wanted half of any money she made through her writing. The idea of it made her want to throw up.

"And what if I don't agree to this?" she whispered. 

"Then I keep it. I don't personally need it as badly as you seem to, so I'd think about how generous I'm being if I were you."

"Why are you like this?" Anna nearly shouted. "Why?"

And that's when Kevin snapped. "You tried to intimidate me!" he hollered. "At my own conference! After my keynote introduction! Do you really think I'm going to let that fucking slide?" Her lips were quivering as she pressed them together, but he just continued. "You're such a bitch, Anna. And apparently someone called Alyssa after they saw you there! She thinks we're already in the process of getting divorced!"

"We could have been by now! But you won't let me go with what's mine!"

But Kevin just yelled over her, and Anna briefly wondered if her neighbors could hear them. "You like your new job? Teaching reading comprehension to adults? I hope you still like it when I do everything in my power to get you fired!"

Tears filled her eyes, and her ears were ringing from his voice. When her apartment door flew open and hit the wall, she thought she had imagined it. But even her imagination couldn't perfectly conjure up Bob Floyd in his Dungeons & Dragons shirt and jeans, cheeks red with anger while his blue eyes flashed behind his glasses.

He was on Kevin immediately, taking him by surprise. Anna fleetingly took note of Kevin's shocked expression before Bob slammed him into the wall next to her bed. She gasped as Bob's forearm met Kevin's neck. "Don't yell at her," he said in that voice she loved so much. But he was gruff and angry right now, and Anna's heart pounded erratically as he added, "You don't get to yell at her like that."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Kevin grunted, but Bob had him pinned firmly in place. "You're just some guy she's fucking."

Anna wanted to vanish into thin air. The way Kevin tried to make her sound disgusting in front of Bob made her skin crawl with shame. But all Bob did was glance back at her and calmly ask, "Are you okay?"

When she nodded, he turned back to Kevin and pushed him a little harder against the wall, and that's when Anna jumped to action. "Don't hurt him, Bob. Please, just let him go." She was shaking, terrified that after months and months, Bob would get himself in trouble over her. "He's not worth it."

When Bob loosened his hold, he stood firmly in place just inches in front of Kevin with his back to Anna. She had never felt protected like this in her life. Kevin pointed at her over Bob's shoulder and barked, "The deal is off the table."

"Just leave!" she begged, hands shaking relentlessly now. She needed him to go. She really needed both of them to go so she could have a panic attack in peace. 

Kevin shoved past Bob and headed for the door, and Bob locked it behind him. Then he turned to look at her, and she had nowhere to go as she sank down onto the floor next to her mattress and started to cry. Bob was there in an instant, and Anna was too tired to fight it when he collected her into his arms. She crawled into his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck and just cried until she was done. His hands were firm and solid against her back, and then he whispered, "Are you sure you're okay?"

She nodded against his neck, inhaling his clean scent. "It's my fault he knows where I work. It's my fault he knows where I live," she hiccupped. "I shouldn't have tested him like I did."

He just hummed and rubbed her back, his fingers tangling in her long hair. "Nothing Kevin decides to do is anyone's fault but his own. Now let's get you out of here."

Anna pulled away from him and swiped at the tears on her cheeks as she asked, "What do you mean? Where am I supposed to go?" She gestured around her tiny living space, but Bob's eyes remained on her face. "This is where I live."

"I'm not leaving you here," he whispered softly. "If he knows where you live and where you work, I don't think you should be here or on campus alone."

"He's mostly harmless," she insisted softly. 

Bob just looked sad as he sighed and started to stand. "He was screaming at you, Anna. And I don't like that. Will you please come with me?"

He was holding out his hand as she looked up at him. "Where?"

"My house. You can stay with me."

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

Bob watched as Anna collected some of her things. She looked so flustered, shoving clothing, toiletries and her computer into a backpack and a tote bag. She handed them to him and walked around her little apartment in a bit of a daze.

"I'll bring the food from my fridge for my lunch and some quarters for the laundromat," she muttered before chewing on her lip. Bob reached out and took her gently by the hand as she tried to walk past him, and she looked up at him with wide brown eyes.

"Anna, I have plenty of food. And a washer and dryer."

She took a few deep breaths and said, "But I can't just use all of your stuff. I can take care of myself."

"I know you can," he replied immediately. "But you need a break. My house is quiet. There are books and groceries. You can do your laundry. Let's go."

This time she nodded and let him lead her toward the door, but Bob accidentally kicked something across the floor and looked down to find a white USB drive hit the wall next to her bed. "Oh my god," she gasped, releasing his hand and lunging for it. She was kneeling and looking up at him as she whispered, "Kevin dropped it."

Bob's brow furrowed. "What's it from?"

She looked so hopeful now as she stood. "I think it might have my manuscript on it."

"Oh," Bob said in surprise. "Let's get out of here and check it." Anna's hand was back in his the whole way down the stairs, and when he held the door open for her, he pulled her a little closer. "What kind of car was he driving?"

"It was a silver Lexus sedan," she told him, and Bob started looking around at all of the parked cars. "I really don't think he would hang around. I'm telling you, he's an asshole, but he's harmless."

Bob wasn't going to risk it, even though Anna seemed excited now. He opened the passenger side door of his truck and helped her climb in before setting her bags at her feet. Then he walked to the end of the block, looking everywhere for something that could be Kevin's car. When he finally climbed into his truck and started the engine, he drove a slightly convoluted route back to his place, watching for any flash of silver paint.

"Thanks for looking out for me," Anna said softly as he pulled up to the curb in front of his house. "Even after everything."

He wanted to tell her that he would take care of everything if she would let him, but he didn't want to let his feelings overwhelm either of them. "You don't have to thank me for anything. Let's get inside and I'll make dinner while you check that USB drive."

Bob was thankful that Suzanne's door was closed, otherwise he would have had to explain to her why Anna was holding his hand and carrying her overnight bags. As soon as they were in his living room, he made sure his door was locked up tight while she scrambled to get her computer out. She sank down onto the couch and inserted the USB drive, glancing up at him with hopeful eyes. Then her face went expressionless when she looked at the screen.

"It's blank." That didn't sound surprising at all to Bob, and he sighed in relief as she said, "I thought this might be the case." She pushed her computer onto the couch cushion and stood saying, "Will you let me make dinner for you?"

He laughed softly and shook his head. "I already told you that you need a break." He plucked a collection of poems by Emily Dickinson from the top of his book shelf and handed it to her. "Read this. I'll tell you when it's ready."

"Thanks," she whispered, accepting the book from him. 

Bob left her in the living room, making a mental list of things he needed to take care of as he peeled some carrots and preheated the oven to cook some chicken breasts. It would only take him a minute to make up the futon in the extra bedroom. He would pack two lunches for tomorrow instead of one. He also needed to call Jessica. 

He wished he had something fancier to send Anna to work with, but he did have everything he needed to make sandwiches and fruit salads, and he had some packs of salted peanuts and cans of ginger ale. Once the chicken was in the oven, he slipped out the back door onto his patio, glancing at the street behind him for a silver Lexus while he called Jessica.

"I know, I know," she said when she answered. "I was supposed to send you the notes from D&D, but Jake took me out to dinner. We're on the way home now. I'll send it before bed."

"Hey," he replied. "No, I actually need to ask you to do something else."

"Anything," she replied easily, and Bob was so thankful for his friends.

"If you agree to do it, I need you to not ask a lot of questions at the moment."

"Sure," she told him so casually, his heart literally swelled.

"Anna is staying here with me for a while. Can you pick her up in the mornings on your way to work? I can get her after I leave base in the afternoon, but since you're heading into the city anyway-"

"Yeah. No problem. I can get her around 8:30 or 8:40," she told him. If she was surprised by his request, she didn't show it.

"Thank you, Jess," he said. He added, "I haven't given up," before he ended the call. He made an additional mental note that he needed to pull the weeds in Suzanne's vegetable garden, and then he headed back inside.

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

Somewhere in the romantic throes of Emily Dickinson, Anna passed out on Bob's couch. She woke up with the book tucked under her chin and his kind face in front of hers. His eyes were so sincere as he said, "Dinner is on the table, and I got the extra bedroom ready."

"Okay," she said as she sat up, still in a daze over everything that happened today. She was proud of herself for not getting her hopes up about what was on the USB drive, but it still hurt to know Kevin was such an ass after all this time. Then as soon as she sat down with Bob and took one bite of the magic carrots he cooked, her brain turned to complete mush. "Oh my god." She took two more big bites, practically moaning over the taste of a hot meal, and she hadn't even gotten to the chicken yet.

"It's nothing fancy, but it's getting late, and I can tell you're tired," he said as he cut up his food.

"Bob," she whispered, looking at him in awe. "This tastes like you went to culinary school."

He blushed bright pink, and Anna desperately tried not to think about how rosy his cheeks had been after he made her orgasm twice. "I'm glad you like it," he muttered, taking a bite and then clearing his throat. "I hope you don't mind, but I called Jess and asked if she could pick you up on her way to campus tomorrow. I would take you myself, but it would add at least 45 minutes to my ride to base in rush hour traffic, and I don't want you waiting for a bus alone."

Anna almost dropped her fork. She couldn't remember the last time someone looked out for her wellbeing like this, because it had never happened before. "Thanks," she whispered. She didn't know how many times she could say that word to him, but she meant it each time she did. And once again he was acting like what he was doing was simply part of his normal existence. Like he helped poor, hungry college professors all the time. Before she bit into the chicken, she asked what had been on her mind earlier. "Why did you come to my apartment anyway?"

He was blushing again as he adjusted his glasses and fumbled his fork. "Uh, well I was running early, so I stopped by your office. Kevin was there, jiggling the doorknob, trying to see if you were inside. He told me he was going to take you back to New Jersey so he could keep track of you."

"Like hell he is!" she snapped. "I'm not going anywhere with him!"

Bob scratched the back of his neck and said, "Yeah, well, as soon as I walked away to see if you were actually already at Chippy's, I just got a weird feeling. When I couldn't find you, I drove to your place. Kevin really rubbed me the wrong way."

The perfect man was sitting across from her, and Anna had to just sit there and eat her delicious chicken while she tried to process things. But then Bob asked, "Why was he there anyway?"

Anna looked up at him like a deer caught in headlights. She knew she needed to be honest with him if she ever had a hope or a prayer, so she said, "I may have figured out he's at a huge conference in Carlsbad until next week. And I may have gone up there and tried to get him to sign over my manuscript."

"Are you serious?" he asked, looking at her like she had two heads. "Anna. You went alone?" She nodded and he said, "I know you think he's harmless, but he looked up your workplace and your address. He tracked you down."

"Yeah," she said softly. "But I tracked him down first."

He sighed deeply. "The difference between you and him is that you wouldn't do anything maliciously but he would. Promise me you won't do something like that again."

The fact that he was worried about her was enough to make her agree, because if Bob Floyd cared about her, then she owed it to him. But also Kevin really got under her skin with his demanding behavior. She knew now that going up to Carlsbad was a bad idea, but she wanted to keep fighting as long as she could. She owed that to herself.

"Let me clean up," she said, standing once she had eaten every speck of food on her plate, but Bob was already shaking his head.

"I'm just going to dump everything in the sink and deal with it tomorrow. Why don't you go up and take a hot shower? You can use anything you find in my bathroom."

Anna wanted to argue with him, but there was such a bone deep ache inside her, and she knew a steamy shower would help alleviate it so she could try to sleep. Once again she thanked him, and once again he told her he didn't mind one bit.

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

Bob ended up not only washing all of the dishes and pans but wiping down the entire kitchen, too. Just knowing that Anna was in his shower was making his skin tingle. He thought about being in there with her, but it turned into something more than a sexual need. He just wanted to protect her, kiss the freckles on her shoulders and tell her she could stay here as long as she wanted to. If she simply never left, she could read all of his books and recommend more and more. 

With a soft groan, he dragged himself up the stairs once he heard her turn the shower off. He made it to the landing in front of the bathroom door just as she walked out. "You have amazing water pressure," she told him with a little smile. "The shower in my apartment is a tiny stall with terrible water pressure."

Bob wanted to reply, but all he could do was stare at her. She was wearing a tank top and some worn flannel pants, and her damp hair was freshly combed. The sweet smelling steam wafted out, hitting him in the face as he realized that the deep red shade of Anna's wet hair was absolutely, indisputably his favorite color. He never wanted her to go back to her tiny apartment. She didn't even have a real kitchen there. Her bed was on the floor.

Anna cleared her throat and said, "I hope you don't mind, but I made a little spot for some of my stuff on your bathroom counter. You can move it if you want."

"It's fine," he muttered, once again wanting things he shouldn't. But now that he knew exactly how awful Kevin was, it was going to be impossible not to dream that maybe someday Anna would be free. Maybe she'd choose him.

"Okay," she whispered, jerking her thumb toward his extra bedroom. "I'll just get in bed then."

"What?" Bob asked as she took a step away from him. "No, you can sleep in my bed. I'll sleep on the futon." It might kill him to think about her laying on his pillow, tangled up in his sheets, but his bed would be much more comfortable.

"I can't do that," she told him, taking another step. "Not after everything you've done for me."

Before she could make it through the doorway, Bob hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her toward his bedroom. "I insist."

"Bob," she said with a little laugh that melted away into a needier voice as she went along with him. "I'm only going to sleep in your bed if you're there, too."

Fuck. He wanted it so badly, he was automatically nodding in agreement. Anna's lips parted softly, and she sucked in a breath. He steered her toward the bed, and that's when he saw it. He grunted, his steps coming to a halt as he ducked his chin down a little bit so she met his gaze.

"Why is your arm bruised?"

Her lips were pressed in a thin line as she looked up at him wordlessly. Just when he thought she wasn't going to respond, she whispered, "He never did anything like it before, but he grabbed me pretty hard yesterday. I... made him really mad."

"He has no right," Bob growled. "I don't care what you did to him, he should have kept his hands off you."

"But my manuscript is so important to me, and I want it back."

"Anna," he said, cupping her soft cheek in his hand. "Your manuscript isn't worth more than you."

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she nodded. Her long lashes were still resting on her cheeks as she whispered, "I'm ready for bed."

Bob's heart was skipping around in his chest as he kissed her forehead. "Go ahead and climb in. I'll be right there."

He watched as she pulled back the bedding and slipped in between the sheets. After he grabbed some gym shorts and a clean undershirt, he ducked out of the room and into the bathroom. Anna's pink toothbrush and her purple comb were next to the sink. There was some face wash and toothpaste and a bag of makeup. He had to take a minute to pull himself together. He needed to be able to share a bed with her in approximately five minutes.

He brushed his teeth and did all of the necessities before changing into what he was planning on wearing to sleep. He was trying his best to keep his feelings at bay, but it felt like he had I LOVE ANNA written across his forehead when he slipped back into his bedroom. She was clearly emotionally exhausted, but she looked spectacular laying there waiting for him. 

When he paused in the doorway, she lifted up the covers on his side of the bed, and Bob carefully folded up his glasses before climbing in next to her. He flicked off the lamp on his nightstand. Neither of them said a word, but when his hand bumped hers beneath the covers, he felt her lace their fingers together. And a few minutes later, Anna was curled up along his side, sound asleep.

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

This whole week is a whirlwind for Anna, but at least ending up in Bob's bed when it's time to go to sleep is a high point. Kevin must be destroyed. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 15

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[probably-writing-x]

All The Firsts (Part 3)

Summary: So, could you write something about the reader being in her first relationship with spider (hbh) and her being worried about how she’s new at this?

Warnings: Drinking, mentions of drugs, cursing, some sexual references and hints but no actual smut (UNLESS THIS IS SOMETHING WE WANT IN PART 4????), mentions of anxiety

Word Count: 7.9k

Author’s Note: Okay I LOVE writing this series and I love the love i’m getting on it!! I’m already setting up for part 4 - please let me know what y’all want to see in that part and whether we’re wanting smut or not <3

“Alright, well, we’re going to leave before this gets any more awkward than it is,” Amerie grimaces, reaching for Harper and dragging her by the wrist to get out of the room.

Missy scoffs and mutters something incoherent under her breath before standing up from the bed and following the girls out of the door. Her eyes linger on Spider as she walks past and you feel your stomach turn.

He pushes into the room and the door shuts swiftly behind him, Spencer taking a spot on the bed opposite you where Missy had just been sat.

“What’s going on? Why are you upset?” He frowns, reaching out for your hands just as you draw them into you, folding your arms over your torso. His hands fall just in front of his lap, like he’s not sure where they should be if they’re not holding yours.

“I-“ You clear your throat, trying to stop the emotion from taking over.

This was Spencer. You could be annoyed at him. You’d done it before.

“What did you say to Missy about me when you two were dating?”

“Wh-“ He exhales, scanning your face as if wishing you would tell him more, “What do you mean? I probably said a lot of things I-“

“About me,” You say abruptly, “What did you say to her about me?”

He visibly shifts at the change in your tone, like this is no longer him trying to comfort you and instead him trying to fix whatever damage he’d done.

“I said a lot of stuff about you, in fact, she got annoyed about me talking about you so much,” He half-laughs like he hopes it will brighten your spirits, “We argued about it, actually. About how I spoke about you too much.”

“And in that argument you told her that you felt sorry for me,” You bite through the words, feeling the same bubbling sickness rise through you, “You told her you’d never see me like that. And then you told her you feel fucking sorry for me. So is that what this is Spencer? Is this you just feeling fucking sorry for me?”

You stand up from the bed and try to fight back the tears brewing in your eyes, taking a deep breath to try to suppress any spilling emotion. Your back is to him now and it feels easier to deal with when you weren’t looking at those eyes.

“Sorry for you?” He breathes out, “Do you think that’s what I’m doing? That me kissing you was just some sort of pity party?”

You bite your lip to stop it from shaking, feeling the looming presence of him stood just two feet behind you.

“You think that when I kissed you, when I told you how long I’ve been waiting to do that, when I told you I want to be with you,” He steps forward, “You think all of that was just some fucked up version of charity?”

You glance upwards into the mirror over the sink in the bedroom and watch as he steps closer to you once more. His hand reaches forward and pulls down one of your arms, gently, letting your arm fall to the side before lacing his fingers with yours.

“(Y/n) you shouldn’t ever think that,” He clenches his jaw and unclenches it like he too is trying to stop himself from getting emotional.

“Then what did you say to her?” You half-whisper the words, letting out a shaky breath alongside them.

He guides you around to face him, his hand only momentarily leaving yours, “I told her that I wished you spent more time with us. I kept telling her how everyone would love you and nobody got to see it because you never came out with us, never came to parties, nothing. And when she asked me why I cared about you so much I just told her it was because I’d known you the longest. And when she got jealous I told her I’d never seen you like that. Not that I never would. And, in fact, I think that’s one of the few things I lied to her about. I’m not sure when I’d first seen you like this (Y/n) but it sure as hell wasn’t just last weekend, I just needed that weekend to wake me up to it, that’s all.”

You smile just a little and then look down from him like you’re ashamed to admit to it.

Spencer moves his hand to tilt your chin up to his, smiling down at you until his expression reflects on your own features, “It’s you, (Y/n). Nobody comes close.”

With that, he cups your cheeks into his hands and kisses you with the most gentle, sincere touch that he can muster. It’s sweet and soft and yet reminds you in his contact that he really meant the words, like a seal of approval.

“Please don’t let Missy upset you like that, okay?” Spencer sighs as he pulls away from you, “She’s just…”

“I know,” You say, leaning forward to rest your forehead on his chest, “I know.”

The pounding in your head seems to settle then, slowing against the beat of his heart. And you do believe him, of course you do. But part of you wanted to forget that anything with him and Missy had ever happened. You wanted to forget that they’d ever been together, that she ever knew the parts of him that you knew. You wanted to forget it all.

———

Later that night, Spencer tells you that everyone’s meeting outside for a bonfire. The teachers weren’t going to be there and Ant and some of the other boys had managed to get enough beers for everyone. You still didn’t feel one hundred percent after what had happened with Missy but the worst thing you could do would be to sit in the room knowing that she and everyone else was out. You wouldn’t be able to get the thought of the two of them out of your head.

Spencer holds your hand as you walk through to the clearing in the forest, everyone already mingling around the space. Your friends are sat huddled together on one side of your view - evidently uninterested in making small talk with everyone else there. They look over at you and down to where Spencer’s hand is in yours as if it’s the strangest thing they’ve seen. As if it still didn’t make sense. On the far side of the fire is all of Spencer’s friends, all of them loud and shouting at each other as one of them is downing a drink from a can. And on the other side, Harper, Amerie, Darren, Cash and Quinn. They’re chatting amongst themselves, all laughing at something Cash had just said.

“Come on, let’s get a drink,” Spencer encourages, squeezing your hand gently.

“Um, can I catch up with you in a minute? You can go see the boys,” You smile up at him, squeezing his hand back.

“Yeah, sure,” Spencer nods, letting your hand go as he goes to walk over to the guys.

He glances back, expecting to see you walking towards your friends but frowning a little when he sees you instead walk over to Harper’s group.

“Hey!”

You don’t even have to speak before they all part ways to let you into the group, Amerie and Harper smiling at you brightly as Harper greets you.

“You all know (Y/n), right?” Amerie looks at the rest of them, “She’s in our dorm this week.”

“Yeah we’ve got chemistry together, I think,” Cash mentions, “You’re the one that knows all the answers.”

You laugh, crossing your arms in front of you as if trying to shrink away from the overwhelming attention.

“I love your jacket, (Y/n), how opposed are you to sharing clothes with people you’ve just spoken to?” Darren smiles, taking a sip of their drink.

“Only a little opposed, maybe get a few drinks in me and ask me again,” You joke, trying to relax into their company.

“Okay, I’m only going to ask once,” Amerie squeezes your arm, “Is everything okay with you and Spider?”

You let out a deep breath, “Yeah, yeah I think so.”

You glance over your shoulder, over to where Spencer is stood chatting with his friends. He glances over at you too and his face seems to light up in the flicker of the bonfire flame when he sees your eyes on his. He frowns a little at the sight of the group you were stood with but you shrug a little and he smiles. You’re the one that looks away first.

“(Y/n) they’re getting a drink, do you want one too?” Quinn speaks up to ask you, smiling brightly.

You turn back to the group and smile, feeling a little more yourself around them.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see your old friends. It was just that something felt a little restricted with them now that they knew you were with Spencer. They weren’t outwardly judging you but you could tell there were conversations going on behind your back. Like they saw you as someone new now. Like you weren’t the person they’d known. And it worried you that they weren’t just happy to see you happy. Instead, they were watching on as if waiting for it to go wrong. Like this would all be something that they could laugh at you for in a years time. Do you remember that weird time when you started dating Spider?

“Come on (Y/n), what’s your drink of choice?” Amerie links her arm with yours and you feel yourself relax even more into the company of the group.

———

A little while later, the groups seem to be combining more so and you end up blended with the boys’ group as Ant comes to find Harper. Everyone settles onto makeshift log seats around the bonfire and you watch Spencer walk over to seek you out amongst the group.

“Do you mind if I sit here, Darren?” Spider asks, smiling awkwardly in a way you rarely saw from him.

Darren looks up and scrunches their face in disgust, “Why are you being like … polite?”

The boys laugh and all yell incoherent mumblings about Spider being a changed man. You look up at him and try to fight back the smile on your face, laughing a little at his evident discomfort.

“Look, if (Y/n)’s going to be a good influence, please god make the most of it,” Darren rolls their eyes at you, “But just warning you she’s way too good for you.”

Spencer scoffs and sits down beside you on the log, “Yeah, I’m well aware.”

You nudge at his side just gently as if ensuring that he knew that wasn’t true and Spencer rests an arm over your thigh, drawing you close to him.

“How’s your night been?” He asks you quietly, like he wants to preserve the conversation for only your ears.

“Good,” You smile softly, “I’ve had maybe… one too many drinks.”

He chuckles, brushing a lock of hair away from your face, “Are you cold?”

You shake your head, “Beer blanket.”

“Ahh,” Spider nods knowingly, “Well tell me when that wears off.”

You tap your cup against his in a cheers and avert your attention back to the group, everyone bustling in separate conversations as the last few stragglers join the circle. Your friends had already left, you hadn’t seen them go.

“Alright, truth or dare?” Ant suggests, cracking open another beer can and pouring half of it into his cup and half into Harper’s, “Unless anyone has any other suggestions?”

“How about never have i ever?” Missy cocks a brow, her attention seemingly focused completely on you as she speaks, though her eyes scan over everyone as if seeking out a reaction.

“Yeah, why not?” Spencer clears his throat, his arm still on your thigh, his fingertips brushing the bare skin of your legs.

You glance at him and he smiles at you, so strangely innocent compared to the venom that he seemed to inject into those words. You lean into him just a little more and he relaxes into your touch.

“Okay, never have I ever…” Sasha begins slowly, eyes scanning the circle, “Done shrooms.”

At least half of the circle all drink, Spencer taking a sip from his cup too. He rolls his eyes at the question. You remember him mentioning after the last school trip here that they’d all taken something. He’d told you all about it the week after.

“Never have I ever…” Ant begins this time, “Got with two people in the same night.”

You watch as a few people around the circle drink. Spencer doesn’t, instead just swirling the liquid around his cup in his free hand.

“Really?” You speak quietly, looking up at him with raised brows.

He laughs as he looks at you, “Yeah, you surprised?”

“No, no,” You shake your head, “Well, a little.”

“Not for lack of trying, right Spider?” Missy speaks up from over the circle, tilting her head as if examining the two of you.

“Cut it out, Missy,” Spider returns, taking another swig of his drink.

“Hey, (Y/n), you haven’t drank yet,” Missy points out, frowning exaggeratedly as if wanting to remind you that she meant it mockingly, “Let’s give you an easy one - Never have I ever… lost my virginity.”

You could easily lie. Take a sip of your drink and roll your eyes at her like it was nothing. But you think about it for a second too long. And, before you know it, it feels like everyone’s eyes are on you - waiting for you to take a sip.

“No drink? You can’t-“ Missy stops her words to laugh outwardly, “You’re not a virgin are you?”

“She doesn’t have to play your shitty little game,” Spider speaks up, his voice raised in the way he knew would make people listen, “How about you cut the bullshit, yeah?”

“Is there something your precious little girlfriend needs to tell us, Spider?” Missy pouts, “Or am I still the only girl you can get it up for?”

The group seems to wince in chorus, all murmuring under their breath words that you couldn’t hear. You don’t look at any of them, not sure where to place your eyes that wouldn’t make you instantly embarrassed. More so than you already felt.

“Stop being such a bitch Missy, seriously,” Amerie speaks up to defend you, “(Y/n) doesn’t need to get caught in the crossfire of whatever unresolved shit you and Spider have.”

“I’ll leave it if he answers the question,” Missy shrugs, “What will it be, Spider?”

It’s like the conversation is happening to you, like you’re powerless to respond, just watching it unfold. This was all too much. How had it got to this already?

“Go fuck yourself Missy,” Spencer spits the words at her, his jaw clenching, his arm unmoving from your thighs, “How about you worry about yourself rather than trying to ruin my relations-“

You stand up from the log quickly, the blood rushing to your head as you do, your heart pounding to keep up with your instinctive thoughts. You couldn’t hear this any longer. You couldn’t do this another minute. You had to get away. And your feet are hurrying you away before your mind has a chance to catch up.

There are the sounds of feet chasing after you and part of you wishes it won’t be Spider. You couldn’t deal with him just yet. He’d be angry and annoyed and he’d be talking about Missy. And he’d be trying to make you feel better by making her sound worse.

“(Y/n)!”

It’s Amerie that calls out to you and you stop in your tracks to turn around. Her and Harper were the ones following after you, smiling reassuringly when your eyes meet theirs.

“Good shit walking away,” Amerie grins, linking her arm with one of yours as Harper does the same on the other side of you, “I’d have swung for her.”

“Yeah don’t listen to Missy, trust me, she’s just trying to find shit to mess up,” Harper encourages, “Like seriously, she should’ve stopped talking before she’d even started.”

You laugh a little and continue the walk with them towards your cabin. The tension in your body seems to have relaxed walking alongside them, feeling like you had at least two people that were on your side. Two people that were rooting for you.

They walk with you all the way back to the room and then the three of you flop down onto your mattress on the bottom bunk, all leaning back against the wall in the squashed space.

“God, I’m starting to wish I’d never gone tonight,” You groan, resting your head back against the wall, closing your eyes to try to ease the drilling headache that hadn’t subsided.

“No, you know what? It’s good you went,” Amerie encourages, “Missy was going to be saying shit whether you were there or not and at least her seeing you with Spider should prove to her that he’s not hers to claim anymore.”

You nod, “Yeah, maybe. I’d just rather not be there when she’s saying all that shit about me.”

Harper laughs, “She’d talk shit about anyone Spider liked, you’re just getting caught in the crossfire between those two.”

“Yeah, right? What the hell is that?” You groan, “I feel like a spare part or something.”

“Those two hate each other these days,” Harper explains, “Ever since they broke up, maybe even before they broke up. Trouble is, I think part of Missy just hoped that would change. You being with Spider has just made her realise that might not be so possible anymore.”

“I never meant to get in the middle of anything like that,” You shake your head, “As far as I was aware they were fully over. Spencer didn’t tell me he was seeing anyone, that he liked anyone, nothing.”

“They are over,” Amerie reminds you, “Missy’s just going to do whatever she can to make this hell for you.”

“I’m starting to wish Spencer was still just the boy that drove me to school every morning,” You mumble the words like you don’t want to admit that they’re true, “It was so much easier when we were just friends, when I was invisible.”

“You like him, right?” Harper nudges your side and waits for you to nod in agreement, “Then that’s all you need to know.”

You go back to resting your head against the wall and the two girls lean in to rest their heads on your shoulders, trying to inject some of their confidence and reassurance into your uncertain nerves.

“Speaking of which…” You can practically feel Amerie’s face curl into a smile, “We’ve been dying to know the story with you two! Because, no offence girl, but you seriously surprised us all with that one. Spencer White?! How did it happen?”

You laugh and it feels like the first time you’ve spoken all day without feeling like something was restricting your throat. It’s the first time you’ve been able to talk about Spider without feeling like you were being judged for everything you said. The girls made you feel welcome, made you feel heard and seen and like you weren’t just an accessory on Spencer’s arm. They gasp when you tell them how he kissed you, and they joke that you must be thinking of a different guy when you tell them how sweet he is. Your heart swells when you talk about Spencer and your headache eases, relaxing into the idea that you could be with him and he could be with you and nothing else needed to matter.

It was a nicer feeling.

———

Missy didn’t sleep in your dorm last night. You assumed she’d gone to stay in one of the other girls’ rooms. Maybe with Sasha. Although your stomach churned when the nightmare scenario entered your mind that she had instead stayed with Spencer. You ignore it. He would never.

There was a text on your phone from him when you woke up.

Morning x Hope you slept okay <3

You smile and stuff your phone into the pocket of your cargos, wearing one of Spencer’s baggy t-shirts over the top that seemed to drown out your figure. It still smelt like him.

The girls walk down to breakfast with you and the canteen is already full of everyone getting their food. Some eyes fall on you as you walk into the room but it’s less judging this time - more sympathetic. Some of them even smile at you, like they’re trying to tell you they didn’t agree with what had happened last night. But none of them had stood up for you - like only now were they realising they probably should have.

You join the queue to get your food and drag the tray across the countertop, stopping every so often to pick up something else.

“Hey, the others are over there,” Harper points out to you as her and Amerie walk over to the table where Darren, Cash and Quinn were sat.

“Be there now,” You smile, pouring yourself a cup of water from a heavy plastic jug.

“(Y/n),” Its Spencer that comes up behind you, not reaching out to touch you but close enough that it seemed he wanted to.

“Morning,” You smile, “Sleep well?”

“Uh-“ He scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah, I did, did you?”

“Not bad,” You shrug, “I’m going to sit with Harper and Amerie, catch you after breakfast?”

“Wh-“ Spencer half laughs like he’s not sure what to do with himself, “Don’t you want to talk about last night? I mean, you seemed pretty mad when you walked off and I think I should at least explain myself and we-“

You lean up onto your tiptoes and press a quick kiss to his lips, the tray of your food bumping against both of you in the restricted space, “I’m starving, and we can chat later, yeah?”

Spencer looks at you and then looks over at the group waiting for you to sit down, “(Y/n) are you sure you’re okay?”

“Of course,” You smile, “See you in a bit.”

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to speak to Spencer. Maybe part of you just hoped that all of this would be forgotten if you just moved on from it. You wouldn’t have to feel that sickness in your stomach that came when you spoke about Missy. You wouldn’t have to admit how embarrassed you were to be caught in the middle of all of that. You wouldn’t have to tell him that you were worried he wasn’t over her. You could just be his girlfriend again. You two could go back to how you were and Missy wouldn’t be so much as a mention in your conversations. That felt easier. Maybe it wasn’t the best way of dealing with things, but it’s what felt right for now.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Darren asks as you sit down with a bright smile as if reassuring you.

“I’m okay,” You nod, “Kind of ready for this trip to be over if I’m honest.”

“You and me both,” Cash laughs.

———

Today, you had to do some sort of orientation task through the forest. The group trudged through the beaten path through the trees as your teacher rattled on about the importance of staying together and listening to the instructions clearly. You were sure everyone had stopped listening a while back.

“(Y/n), you can come with us!” Harper encourages you, “Promise to not let you get lost.”

You laugh, “Yeah, I’ll do the same. Thanks girls.”

The two of them seemed to have taken you under their wing instantly. Like they saw you were swimming out of your depth and both threw you a life jacket.

“So, you’re smart at like everything else, how are you at reading a map?” Amerie asks.

“Hate to burst your bubble girls-“ It’s Spider speaking from beside you, his head lowering to your shoulder so that his words were spoken directly next to you, “But (Y/n)’s with me.”

“Yeah, she’ll never make it out here if that’s the case,” Amerie scoffs, folding her arms over her chest.

Spencer rests an arm over your shoulders and glances down at you before looking back to the other two, “No, I wouldn’t make it out of here. She’s my only hope.”

“Surprised Missy isn’t rushing after you to team up,” Harper cocks her head, “She can’t seem to get enough of you.”

You look up at Spencer and watch as he narrows his eyes at the girls, like he’s assessing how much he can say without annoying them further.

“I hope she does get lost out here,” He states clearly, “It would do us all a favour.”

“Hmm, he almost sounds like he means it (Y/n),” Amerie smiles at you, “Just shout if you need us, we’ll rescue you if he can’t.”

With that, they leave the both of you to it and Spencer tightens his arm around you, drawing you into his chest. You groan as your head collides with him, his other arm wraps around you too.

“Ready to get lost in the forest?” He asks you, his chin resting on top of your head.

You pull away just enough that you can look up to him, “Didn’t the boys want to go with you?”

“Yeah,” Spencer shrugs, “And I wanted to go with you.”

You take the map from his hands as the other pairs seem to scatter off amongst the trees, all eyeing up different directions.

“We don’t need that,” Spencer takes it back from you, stuffing it into his back pocket, “Come on.”

“Wh-“ You stumble to keep up with him as he laces his fingers with yours, leading you through the dense trees, “Spec where are we going? We’re meant to-“

“Oh they won’t miss us, I’ll make sure we’re back by the time they notice we’re gone,” He encourages, looping your interlocked hands over your head so that his arm now sat back around your shoulders too.

For a short while, the two of you walk together. His arm stays around you, your fingers still interlocked with his. The noise of the other students starts to drown out the further away you get and it seems somewhat poetic to the bigger picture - when you and Spencer were together it still felt like nothing else mattered. Like no other stories and no other gossip could get in the way. You fell back into the reasons your heart swelled the way it did when he first kissed you.

“So, are you going to talk to me now?” Spencer nudges your side just a little.

“Wh-“ You look up at him, “What are you talking about? I’m not not talking to you.”

“You’re talking to me, but not about what we should be talking about,” Spencer points out, directing the two of you towards a rock overlooking where the trees start to dip downhill.

The two of you sit down and both of your hands return to yourselves. Like you’re somewhat shy around each other.

“There really is nothing to talk about, Spence, I don’t know what there is to say.”

“There’s plenty to say!” He half-laughs, “You’re telling me from all of last night there’s nothing you want to say?”

“I don’t-“ You stop yourself, swallowing the lump in your throat, “It hasn’t even been a week Spencer, I don’t want us to argue, okay?”

“Hey,” His voice softens, shifting so that he is looking more directly at you, “We’re not arguing. I just need you to talk to me about how you felt last night.”

“You just… you have this thing with Missy. Like you two can’t be in the same room without it being obvious. Like, okay, imagine two magnets. And they’re both North magnets so they just repel each other. They’re not joined but they’re still magnetic. So they’re repelling but there’s still something in that - something connecting them, tying them to each other. That’s how it feels seeing you and Missy. I know you two aren’t together, I know you don’t want to be with her. But there’s just this thing between you two. And I saw you last night and just thought … I’m not her, and I can’t be her. I’m not confident like she is, I’m not going to yell at you or have a screaming match with you. I don’t want any of that.”

“And you think that’s what I want?” Spencer frowns sincerely like a realisation is dawning on him, “(Y/n), there’s a reason that Missy and I aren’t together, okay? There’s a reason that relationship ended, there’s a lot of reasons. I don’t want you to be a replacement for her. In fact, that’s the exact opposite of what I want. This thing between me and Missy it’s just… it’s exes. We hate each other, that’s never really going to change.”

“But I don’t…” You feel your voice crack, your bottom lip trembling, “I don’t have any of that. I don’t know what it’s like. And I just… I’m worried I can’t be enough for you.”

“Enough for me?” He says the words like they’re venom on his tongue, like it convulses his stomach to even think of questioning that, “(Y/n) how can I prove to you that you are?”

You shake your head as two tears spill from your eyes, trailing slowly down your cheeks.

“Okay,” Spencer takes a deep breath and reaches out to take your hand, “Yes, me and Missy dated, she’s my ex. It wasn’t the best breakup and ever since we’ve just argued any chance we got. In fact, we argued just as much when we were together. And when I dated her, I just thought that was normal. It was my first proper relationship - I just thought that’s how it went, that you had to argue to get all of the good parts too. But, I’d argue with Missy one night and then the next morning I’d be waiting in the car to drive you to school. And you’d ask me how my night was and I’d probably just dismiss it, and you’d play your songs and tell me about your weekend and you’d make me laugh and you’d listen to me. And so every time I fought with Missy I’d think, fuck, it’s so much easier to talk to you.”

You look up at him and he smiles when your eyes make contact with his, like it’s a breath of fresh air.

“I don’t need you to be her. Because… the reason I was glad that relationship ended was because I realised that she wasn’t you.”

You let out an exhale as if a thousand weights had been lifted from your shoulders, Spencer’s hand coming up to your cheek to brush the skin there as though stopping any more tears from falling.

“Thank you,” You half-whisper and he smiles, kissing you quickly as if to lock in the moment.

“Just talk to me, okay?” He whispers, kissing you again, more strong and certain this time.

You rest your head on his shoulder and he wraps an arm around you, holding onto you like you were the best thing that had ever happened to him.

———

“Well, you two look like you’ve had fun,” Harper grins when she sees you and Spencer break out into the clearing in the forest.

He’s walking alongside you, his hand in yours, laughing at something you’d said. You smile at her and she gives you a look as if double checking you’re okay, you nod quickly.

“Get lost in the forest, did ya?” Ant wiggles his brows at the two of you.

Spencer steps behind you and wraps his arms around you above your shoulders, your hands resting on his forearms underneath your chin as his chin settles on top of your hair.

“We just…” You run your fingers along the skin of his arms, “Went for a walk.”

“Yeah I bet you did,” Ant winks and it’s evident what he’s insinuating.

Maybe him thinking that was easier than you telling him about the conversation you’d just had. He could believe what he wanted to believe.

“Party in the boys cabin later?” Amerie rushes over, grinning at Spider like she’s hoping he’ll agree with her.

“No pissing, no vomit, no spilling drinks,” Spider reaches out one arm to point at her as if directing his concerns to only her.

“Deal.”

Ant goes on to talk about who would be coming and points out that there were certain people he’d rather not be there. He smiles at you as if trying to make you feel welcome, like he’s assuring you he too hated what happened last night. That he, just as much as you, didn’t want it to happen again.

———

That night, you go over to the boys room and the doors already open. The guys are all there, Quinn, Darren and Cash too, and a few others you still weren’t sure of the names of. You, Amerie and Harper walk in and Ant shuts the door behind you.

“There she is,” Spencer grins when he sees you, “I was just talking about you.”

“All good I hope,” You cock a brow at him as you walk over to where he’s speaking to Cash and Darren.

“These two were just asking me of my … intentions,” He comments, wrapping an arm around your waist, “I wasn’t aware they cared so much about your relationships.”

“Someone’s got to look out for her now she’s with you,” Darren jokes, “And we’re always watching.”

“Noted,” Spencer nods and then looks down at you and smiles again, “Want a drink?”

“Yes please.”

Everyone manages to squeeze into the condensed space as people occupy spaces on the floor, you and Spencer take a spot on his bed, sat close beside each other as three other people managed to squeeze into the space beside you. Missy wasn’t here - thankfully. And you overheard Quinn saying that she was staying in their room with Sasha tonight instead. Thankfully.

Everyone was passing round bottles of liquor and trying to think of games to play and talking over each other and you just sort of let it all happen around you. You liked this group, as much as you felt different to them. They were friendly and welcoming and they didn’t judge you like you thought they would. In fact, it seemed they were happy to see Spencer with you. Like they were looking forward to him having a good influence.

“Hey,” Spencer nudges your side, “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Wh-“ You look at him and frown, “We don’t have to, I don’t mind staying.”

“But you’d rather go,” Spencer points out and waits as if he’s making sure you don’t dispute it, “Come on.”

He takes your hand in his and both of you stand up from the bed, trying to step your way through the bodies of people sat on the floor. They start to protest about you leaving, complaining that you two were boring and that they were offended you didn’t enjoy their company. One of them makes a joke about Spider being wifed off. But Spencer opens the door, sticks a middle finger up to all of them and then closes it behind you.

“Come on, we can go to my cabin,” You say, your hand still interlocked with his as the two of you walk the short distance across the complex to get to your room.

It’s empty, of course. Missy was in Sasha’s room and Harper and Amerie were still with the boys. Spencer locks the door behind both of you and breathes a sigh of relief.

“Just us,” He smiles lightly, his hands reaching out for your waist.

You hum in agreement and lock your hands behind his neck, Spencer taking steps to walk you backwards towards the bed. It’s awkward and stumbling when you get there, however, as you duck down to avoid hitting your head on the bunk on top. He stumbles to stop himself from falling too, tightening his grip on your waist.

“Well that was meant to be more romantic than that,” Spencer grimaces, dropping down onto you on the mattress.

You laugh and run a hand through his hair as he pushes up onto his elbows.

“It’s better when it’s just us,” He mumbles, leaning down and kissing you again.

You hum against his lips and keep your hand in his hair as he deepens his connection against you, his body shifting to hover over you, friction increasing between you both. He moves a hand to snake around your back, pressing against the skin to draw more of you into him, lips parting yours for his tongue to dominate. You move a hand to his shoulder and grip at the material of his t-shirt and Spencer pulls away from you.

“We don’t have to-“ He swallows the lump in his throat, catching his breath, “We don’t have to do anything.”

“No,” You reply quickly, “I want to.”

“(Y/n), you don’t have to say that I-“

“I’m not just saying it,” You assure him, “I just… I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do.”

Spencer smiles softly, “Okay, we can take as long as we need. There’s no rush.”

He leans in to kiss you again, starting softly before getting to be more sure of himself, hand gripping your waist and kneading the skin there.

You weren’t anxious like you thought you would be. In fact, it was anticipation more than anything. And you felt safe knowing it was Spencer with you, in any lifetime you’d want it to be him.

———

The following morning, you wake up with Spencer’s arms still around you. The two of you are squashed in the cramped space of the single bed, his limbs folded to fit into the space, his breath hot on your neck as he wrapped around you, laying behind you. When you wake up and shift beneath him, he groans at the disruption, tightening his grip around you.

“Not yet,” He grumbles, drawing you into his chest.

“Spence,” You laugh, pushing yourself around to face him, “We need to get up and pack.”

He buries his head into the crook of your neck, sighing into the skin, “Not yet.”

Before you can speak again, there’s a knock at the door followed by a;

“Are you decent?!”

It’s Amerie’s voice.

“Come in,” You laugh, shifting underneath the covers as Spencer still buries his head into you, refusing to move.

The door opens and Harper and Amerie both walk in, still in last nights’ clothes, both of them looking like the hangover had hit.

They look down at the clothes discarded on the floor and then back up to the two of you in bed. You were wearing Spencer’s baggy t-shirt and he was in his boxers, bodies covered by the sheets over you.

“Well looks like you two had a party of your own last night,” Amerie grins, “Now I’m even more glad we stayed in the boys’ room.”

“Yeah good call,” Harper smirks, “We’ve got thirty minutes before we need to leave.”

“Oh, and Spider, I may have spilt vodka over your bag last night…” Amerie winces, “So have fun with that.”

He groans and turns into you even more, his arm draped over your stomach, “Thanks Am.”

The girls open the curtains in the room and he groans again.

“Is that necessary?” He mumbles, propping himself up onto his elbow beside you.

“You should probably go back and start getting your stuff packed,” You point out, “And get showered.”

He tilts his head down to sniff under his armpits, “Are you telling me I stink?”

You laugh and he jabs at your side to tickle you, making you squeal and writhe under his touch.

“God what did you do to this guy (Y/n)?” Amerie scoffs, “You’re a changed man these days Spider.”

He rolls his eyes and leans down to kiss you quickly, “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Spencer rolls over you on the mattress to get out of the bed, standing up and stretching his arms over him, his back muscles shifting and contorting as he does.

You lean up onto your elbows and watch him, “You’re not going out there in your pants are you?”

He turns around and grins, “Don’t worry darling, they can look but they can’t touch.”

You roll your eyes, “Goodbye.”

He grabs his other clothes from the floor and bundles them into his arms, walking out of your room with a yelled ‘goodbye darling’.

“Seriously, what did you do to that guy?” Harper laughs, “He’s like… nice now?”

You laugh, sitting up in the bed, a waft of his aftershave lingering on his top.

“Okay, leaving the party, clothes on the floor, room to yourselves,” Amerie wiggles her brows, sitting down on the mattress opposite you, “What did happen last night?”

“Oh and we want all of the boring details,” Harper grins, sitting beside her, both of them leaning forward in anticipation.

“Well… Ive never actually done that before,” You say, “But Spencer… well he seemed pretty good at it.”

They both squeal and laugh, bursting into a flurry of questions. You feel your heart swell when you talk about him.

———

Everything felt strangely in place now, for the past few weeks at least. You and Spencer had struck up a perfect balance in your relationship. To compromise not seeing each other at lunch, he would get to your house twenty minutes early and have breakfast - or stay there the night before and have breakfast in the morning. You’d go into school and stay with him and his friends until Harper and Amerie came in so you’d part ways and go with them instead. They’d welcomed you into their group without a thought. You’d go to your classes and Spencer went to his. At lunch, you sat with your old friends. They’d been a bit apprehensive about your relationship with Spencer but they could see how happy you were with him and, in fact, he’d even been making an effort to say hello to all of them at least. You’d go to your afternoon classes and then Spencer would meet you from the last one, driving you home or out to somewhere and it was rare the two of you had an evening without each other. It worked. You were happy.

You were in chemistry when the announcement sounded.

“Can the following students please make their way to the principal’s office,” The words came through the speakers, “(Y/n) (Y/l/n), Spencer White, Sasha So and Missy Beckett.”

Amerie frowns at you and you shrug, gathering your things as the teacher dismisses you from your class. Spencer walks out of his own class and meets up with you in the corridor, squeezing your shoulders as he walks behind you.

“Have I finally got you in trouble (y/l/n)?”

You roll your eyes and squeeze his hands over your shoulders, looking back at him, “It was inevitable.”

When you walk into Woodsy’s office she’s sat at her desk, Missy and Sasha stood opposite her already. They both look at you disapprovingly when you walk in.

“Good morning,” Woodsy begins, “Thank you for joining us, you two.”

You and Spencer fall into line beside the other two, everyone looking just as confused as each other.

“Well, I’ve brought you here today because I’ve got a very exciting proposition for you all,” She explains, “We’ve had interest from a local university about offering scholarship programmes to some of our students and you are the lucky four that have been shortlisted.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Sasha laughs, “What did Spider do?”

“Well, the school is considering sporting excellence as well as academic excellence,” Woodsy continues, “And Spencer is one of our talented sportsmen here.”

You look up at him and he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Didn’t realise you were dating the top jock.”

You laugh and nudge his side, turning your attention back to Woodsy as you ask, “What do we have to do for this scholarship?”

“Well, you’ll be meeting with the scholars from the university and in a few weeks you’ll be presenting to them your ideas for how we can improve an aspect of the school. That could be trips, facilities, classes, anything. You’ll all be working individually and maybe more than one of you will get the scholarship and the opportunity to add a really good trait to your CV,” She explains, “How does that sound?”

“Can we go now?” Missy says bitterly, arms folded as she eyes you and Spencer.

“Not yet, I want the four of you working together on your initial ideas! You guys will be spending a lot of time together over the next few weeks and I want all of you to be successful.”

“Brilliant,” Missy rolls her eyes, “Can’t wait.”

The sarcasm seeps into the air but Woodsy chooses to ignore it, turning back to you and Spencer, “I am aware that you two have recently entered into a… romantic relationship. Do you feel this is going to affect your ability to do this?”

Spencer looks at you and raises his brows, looking back to Woodsy, “Was unaware you followed our personal lives, Miss.”

“Nothing is ever a secret in this school, Spencer.”

“We’ll be fine,” You interject, “We can be professional.”

“Alright, then you’re all free to go. We’ll be meeting today after school for your first session,” Woodsy nods, “I look forward to it! Let me give you these brochures and then you can be off.”

Missy and Sasha walk out first, mumbling between themselves about how it was ridiculous that they had to do this. Missy looks back at you and gives you a glare enough to slice through you. You ignore it.

“So, I think being professional means you’ve got to keep your hands off me, do you think you can manage that?” Spencer grins down at you, walking backwards out of the room as you follow him.

“No, I’m just insatiable,” You roll your eyes sarcastically, “I tell you what, I bet you’ll fold before I do.”

“That sounds like a challenge, (y/l/n).”

“Okay, you have to keep your hands off me whilst we’re in school - as soon as we’re back in these walls you’re back in the friend zone - until this whole thing is over,” You cock a brow.

“Oh it is on, darling,” He narrows his eyes at you, “And what do I get when I win?”

“Anything you want.”

You watch him swallow the thick lump in his throat, clearing it as he taps the brochure onto your forehead, “Done deal.”

Avoiding Spencer, spending all this time with Missy, trying to get this scholarship for college? The next few weeks were surely going to be hell.

———

Taglist: @genrockstar @aceofspades190 @dumb-bea @blue-butterflys @kinokomoonshine

[kurocamille]

❝maybe frat boys aren’t so bad (aka miscommunication leads to makeup sex?!) ❞

Frat!Bakugou Katsuki x reader (second part of my frat!Bakugou series) mdni

part 1 / master list

5.3k+ words

after your hookup with Bakugou, somehow everyone knows. this means that you’re on mean girl Mika’s watchlist and that you’ll have to distance yourself from him. however, Bakugou gets it in his head that you don’t want to be with him, and when he sees you with Kirishima, he doesn’t think you’ll ever let him back in your life (or your bed). Turns out it was all just miscommunication…

warnings

part 2 of 2, jealous Bakugou, miscommunication trope, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, blow job, making out, hickeys, he bites you once?, penis in vagina sex, loss of virginity, inexperienced reader, female/afab reader, creampie, “baby” as a pet name

It had been exactly one week since your night with Bakugou Katsuki. As you had expected, rumours about the two of you had reached far across campus in no time. After all, Bakugou is very popular.

Unfortunately, the result of this rumour was that everyone knew what happened… including Mika and her minions. So, last week, instead of waking up to an expected empty phone, it was instead alive with thousands of nasty messages.

When you opened them, the bulk of the message spam followed the same pattern. ‘You’re such a whore,” or “I can’t believe you’d steal Bakugou from Mika, you bitch,’ or, at worst, from the culprit herself, ‘I heard you got with Bakugou. If you think you can take him from me, you’re wrong. I’ve got loads of people who can fuck you up.’

Obviously feeling threatened, because only the lord knows what Mika can do with her money and power, you had chickened out and never replied to Bakugou’s message. No matter how much you wanted to see him again, it was not worth the damage Mika would inflict.

—-

Now, after seven days have gone by, all spent avoiding Bakugou like the plague, you finally think you can go to class and fly under the radar. You arrive on time as usual, sitting in the middle row of the lecture hall.

It’s a massive class, and although many people are already there, there are others filing in as the prof starts their lesson. You, being too engrossed in your note taking, don’t notice as a body slides into the empty seat beside you.

“Hey, what did I miss?” the voice says in a hushed tone.

You look up and see none other than Bakugou Katsuki, still very much blond and still very much attractive. Instead of replying you turn back to your notebook, tearing off a piece and quickly scribbling a message down.

You slip the note reading, ‘Literally nothing, pay attention during class!’ into Bakugou’s waiting hand. He huffs and attempts to speak to you again, but you face your paper and ignore whatever he’s saying.

“Please be quiet up there!” The professor calls him out, and he slouches down in his seat, begging for class to end.

After everyone finally gets dismissed, Bakugou tries to poke your shoulder to get your attention, but you’re already dashing out the door, praying that nobody saw you together.

“Wait, Y/N,” Bakugou calls for you, jogging to catch up to you. Damn him for having such long legs…

“Sorry, I can’t talk to you,” you reply. It comes out more harshly than expected, but no sense in trying to chummy up to him again if Mika was threatening you. So, you turn on your heel to leave him again.

“Just hear me out,” he blurts out, lightly grabbing your shoulder to make you face him.

You don’t move, instead you stand there with your hands on your hips, waiting for him to continue.

Finally, he gets the hint and speaks again. “I’m sorry if it was bad for you…”

What?! “It wasn’t bad for me, it’s just–”

“No, it’s okay if you don’t want to see me again, but I’d rather you tell it to me now, to my face,” he interrupts you mid sentence.

Ha, you think, Ironic that the frat boy doesn’t want to get ghosted, but as you had realized much longer before this, Bakugou is not your average frat boy. Although he looks like a pretty boy with no space for a committed relationship, he has much more depth than you could even imagine. Despite being a flirt and allegedly a playboy, Bakugou had only ever treated you with respect, so you suppose you at least owe him this one conversation.

“Bakugou,” you start, unsure of how to follow through to your point. “It wasn’t bad. If anything it was too good. I just– I just can’t afford to be seen with you.”

A hurt look flashes through Bakugou’s eyes before he gives a slow nod of understanding. “I get it, you don’t want to be with a guy like me. It’s alright, guess I won’t bother you anymore.”

“Wait, that’s not–” you start, but Bakugou is already walking away with his hands stuff in his pockets.

You stand in the middle of the busy hallway for a good few seconds before you hear a giggle that breaks you out of your daze. It’s Mika, she’s leaning on the wall we chatting to her friends.

“She’s almost as much of a player as Katsuki is,” she says to her friends in what she pretends is a whisper, but you know she wants you to hear.

“Yeah, but at least he’s good in bed. She seems like the desperate type.” All of them burst out into a fit of giggles. Y walk off, not even bothering to hear the rest of the conversation.

—

A month later, you haven’t heard from Bakugou at all, his one lone message still sits in your inbox, unanswered. You can’t help but be a little upset knowing it could’ve happened if not for the circumstances. It doesn’t matter, though, as far as you know Bakugou got back with Mika for a bit, dumped her, and is now moving through girls like a snowplough.

You’re sitting in a cafe when somebody plops down in the booth in front of you. He seems to recognize you, but you can’t fully place his fiery red hair and toothy grin. “Hey, Y/N, right?”

You furrow your brows. “Who’s asking?”

He laughs heartily at your question. “Sorry, I thought you might remember me. I’m Kirishima Eijiro. I was at that party a few weeks ago.”

Looking down, you see him offer a hand, which you shake quickly before placing your hands back in your lap. Even though the issue with Bakugou and Mika had blown over, and you had fallen back into your mundane life, you were still trying to avoid anything “boys and Bakugou” related.

“Well, I’ve been having some concerns about my buddy,” he thinks out loud.

“Are you really certain I could do anything about this?” you reply hastily. Maybe you shouldn't have said that so soon.

“That’s the thing,” Kirishima replies. “I’m not tryna blame you or anything, but I think you might be causing some… altercations… in his sex life.”

You smack your hands down on the table, catching the attention of surrounding customers. “What?!” You sink back down after receiving a glare from a neighbouring table.

“I didn’t mean that it was bad!” Kirishima speaks for you as you drown in embarrassment.

“Sorry, you kind of implied it though.” The flush on your cheeks doesn’t dissipate.

“Right, actually, moreso the opposite. You might’ve heard Bakugou’s been sleeping around a lot. He and Mika are officially over this time. I’m not going to tell you why, but what matters is that he’s been trying to make up for losing you, at least I think,” Kirishima spills.

You make a non-coherent splutter, but Kirishima doesn’t let you reply. “I tried to tell him this was all about Mika and her stupid followers, but he’s not into socials, and he’s stubborn as hell, anyway. He believes you’re avoiding him because of his reputation, but you’ve gotta help me. He’s been insufferable lately, and even as a member of our frat, the number of girls he’s been with is getting slightly concerning.”

Kirishima looks at you with begging eyes, and you know it’s serious if he came to see you. You look down at your lap, your heart racing with confusion and anxiety.

“I’m sorry, but how can you be so certain? I’d like to help, really, but I’m not sure where I come in,” you say slowly.

“Call him or something. Give him some closure, and let him know it isn’t because of his “player” mentality or whatever he’s got stuck in his head.” Kirishima gets up and places a bill down to pay for your food.

Just then, a familiar figure passes by and notices you through the window. You’re too wrapped up in your conversation with Kirishima to notice the way they ball their fists and huff away.

“Thanks. Hope to see you around.” Kirishima leaves you sitting there confused.

You sit there in awe at the conversation. Why are you supposed to care about Bakugou’s overactive libido anyway?

Sighing, you stare at your empty cup and decide to leave the cafe. It turns out it’s just starting to rain when you trudge back to your dorms, and you get drenched.

—

That night, you lay in bed, unable to fall asleep. Thoughts of Bakugou continue to invade your mind, and you hear yourself groaning in annoyance.

Maybe I should call him, you think. But, ugh, that’s kind of weird and pathetic.

However, the more you think about it, and him, the more your thoughts start to go back to your night in his car. You remember how it felt to have his big hands on your body, how they felt inside your–

You stop that thought before it can progress.

Again, you let your mind wander. If you think about it, if you actually wanted him again, would it really be fixing his libido? If it benefited both of you, it couldn’t be that awful to call him again.

Nevermind, you’re just thinking too much. How could you even consider it?!

Just go to bed, you beg yourself.

You stare up at the ceiling until your eyes blur out of focus, but somehow, somehow, everything leads back to him.

Flushing, you try not to think about his adept fingers moving in and out of you. Slowly, your panties get wetter and wetter, and you realize that the only way you’re ever going to get over him is by getting under him.

Finally, you decide to roll over and give in to your desires. The glow of your phone screen is glaringly bright, and it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. When things come into focus, you unlock your phone and click on Bakugou’s number before you lose confidence

“Hello?” Bakugou’s raspy voice answers after five rings.

“Hey, Bakugou,” you whisper. “I wanted to tell you something. Don’t hang up, please.”

“Okay,” he yawns.

“Kirishima came to me today. Can we talk this over or something?”

“We are talking. And I know. I saw” is his gritted reply.

“You’re right, I’m in no place to be asking for anything. I’m sorry. I just need to talk to you in person. I need to get something off of my chest.”

“Oh, something? Or, somebody… like, Shittyhair?!” he practically seethes through the phone.

“Wait, what?!” you yelp.

“Why are you even calling me over if you’re with him.”

“What?” you repeat yourself. “I’m not with him?”

“You literally just said you saw him today,” he argues.

“That’s what I was calling about. He sai–” you start.

“If you’re coming to me with your boy problems, hang up.” You can tell he’s on the verge of leaving.

“No!” you huff madly. “If you’d let me finish, you’d know that he came to tell me he’s worried about you.”

“Oh, really? Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure you’ve been fucking, since apparently I wasn’t good enough for you, or whatever,” he replies angrily.

“I swear, Bakugou,” you sigh. “I haven’t been with anyone since our night together.

Bakugou pauses before replying. “I don’t fully believe you. Especially when you just gave me proof you went out together”

You blush as you speak your next words, admitting something to him you thought would happen under different circumstances.

“I haven’t been with him, and I swear it, because…” you hesitate. “I’ve only ever been with you.

A sharp breath is blown out on Bakugou’s end, and you wonder what’s going through his mind.

“Seriously?” His breaths are suddenly slower and calmer.

“Yeah, I swear. Can I just talk to you in person? I really do need to tell you.”

Bakugou makes a slight shuffling noise on his end, and you hear someone’s murmuring in the background, likely one of his frat brothers.

“Fine. You want me to come to you?” he finally replies, giving in (almost too easily, in your eyes).

“Yes, please,” you reply quietly.

“I’ll be there soon.” With that, he hangs up.

After the same short drive from last time, Bakugou shows up in your dorm parking lot. He shoots you a text message that he’s here, and you greet him at the door.

It’s about one am, and despite your disheveled tank top and shorts, Bakugou is dressed as handsomely as ever. “Hi,” you say.

“Hi.” He gives you a sad smile in return.

“I want to apologize.” You bow your head shyly. “It was my fault for all the confusion. I should’ve told you what was up. I just didn’t want to mess up my chances with you or your relationship with Mika. Kirishima told me about everything that’s been happening.”

“It’s fine, I’m sorry, too,” he replies.

You look up in surprise. Altogether, pathetically, you had expected more grovelling, so this is unexpected.

“It was all Mika’s fault, anyway, and I promise things are over with us,” he says, his face pink with embarrassment. “And… I guess I could say that my judgement of you and Shitty hair was a little preemptive.”

“You think?” you laugh quietly.

“I really am sorry, okay.” He looks up at you and deep into your eyes to solidify his point.

Your face feels hot, and you’re sure he can see the growing blush across your cheeks. Even so, you smile and say, “So, are we good?”

“Yeah,” he replies, returning your smile.

There’s a long pause between the two of you, but it doesn’t feel awkward like you might expect. The gap between you feels like it’s closing, and eventually your lips are just barely touching. His breath fans over your face, and you grip his shirt, taking him in a kiss.

Bakugou holds you to him, his back pressed against the door of your dorm. When you slip your tongue against his, he doesn't decline. He gingerly holds you, squeezes your hip with one hand, and cups your face with the other.

“I don’t deserve you,” you sigh as Bakugou starts to pepper kisses all over your neck.

“You do, it’s me that doesn’t deserve you.” He moves your face so your gazes can meet.

Bakugou gives you one of his signature grins and catches you in another heated kiss. His tongue swiftly swipes across yours, causing you to moan in his hold.

When he changes the angle of kiss, you become entangled, your hips pressed flush against his, earning his groans in your ear. With his newly growing boner and your wettening panties, you feel unbearable lust growing.

“Can we go upstairs?” Bakugou asks.

You nod, keying yourselves in and rushing to your room that’s right around the corner.

As soon as the door opens a mere inch, Bakugou jumps back on you and pushes you down to the bed, a haze of desire over his eyes.

“Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this for so long.” He nips on your neck.

You can only moan in response when he kisses down your chest. Pulling your tank top over head, Bakugou, or Katsuki, you suppose, focuses his attention on your chest. Your body stiffens as he glides his tongue over your hard nipple..

“That feel good?” he asks when he pinches the other nipple while continuing to lick long stripes on your breast.

“Yeah,” you hum in reply.

You feel so good under Bakugou, writhing in pleasure as he sucks hickeys into your skin. You feel his hand sneak up to the top of your waistband and you yelp in surprise. “Ah! Katsuki”

“Can I continue what I started last time?” he says in a begging tone, lightly tugging at your panties.

“Please,” you moan equally as wanton as him, and you’re almost immediately spread bare for him.

Kissing down your chest, Bakugou gets spurred on by your moans. He gives your clit the sensation it's been craving. Slowly, pressure is added to the bundle of nerves, and you feel yourself seeping down onto your sheets.

When he sees your glistening pussy, he laughs, “So wet again, baby, and I’ve barely even touched you here.”

“I was getting wet thinking about you earlier,” you mumble into the back of your hand.

“Good.” He smiles. “Don’t think about other guys from now on, you’re all for me.”

There’s no time to reply in shock because Katsuki dips into your depths, swiping up and down your wetness. One finger slips inside smoothly, moving in and out with ease.

Testing it out, Katsuki moves down to your sex and adds his mouth to the mix. This new feeling sets your body on fire. What he’s doing to your body is more than anything you’ve ever experienced, and your core tightens uncontrollably.

“Wait, ah!” you cry out, but Bakugou doesn’t relent. Instead, he adds another finger and curls it into your g-spot.

Working in and out of your cunt, you feel yourself squeezing around his fingers. The feeling of his strong fingers moving inside of you and his lips sucking on your throbbing clit brings you to your limit embarrassingly quickly. You can’t find it in yourself to care, though, because it just feels so good.

With one last strangled moan, you cum, the pleasure sending you over the edge. You tingle all over post orgasm and feel your eyes slip into the back of your head for a second. As Bakugou continues to finger you, your body lifts off the bed into his mouth.

Then, suddenly, you feel something else coming. Something that you feel coming upon you just as fast as your orgasm. You try to sit up and stop Bakugou, but his hand keeps you pinned to the bed. The overstimulation on your body creeps up on you, and there’s a new pain that accompanies your pleasure, adding to your second high.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry out when Katsuki switches his fingers for his mouth.

Nimble fingers swirl circles on your clit as his tongue darts out to meet your pussy. It licks up and down, teasing your entrance with the occasional poke inside. And, when you’re least expecting it, it finally slides to your hole, working on thrusting as far into your depths as you can.

This feeling is incredible, and the way Bakugou groans into your pussy drives you mad. Feeling the finger leaving your clit, you whine, but it’s replaced with his tongue again. This time, his tongue switches between your folds and you clit, stimulating every inch of your already twitching sex.

“You’re so good, baby. Love this so much,” Katsuki murmurs when he lifts off of you for a moment.

“Kiss me, and let me touch you, too,” you moan, bringing his face to yours.

You aren’t bothered by the fact that he was just eating you out when you start dipping into each other’s mouths. If anything, the look in Bakugou’s eye tells you it turns him on more. The genuinely lewd look of his tousled hair and wide pupils raises your heartrate so high you can feel it beat inside your chest.

Absent-mindedly, you fumble with the buttons on Bakugou’s jeans. He helps you by leaning back and pulling his shirt over his head. You don’t miss the way his muscles flex and the way he flaunts his abs.

Then, with a quick tug, Bakugou’s pants and boxers slide off. His dick stands proudly, pretty and thick as ever. You place your hand on it like you did last time. He responds well to your touch and groans lewdly when you give it a squeeze.

You slick your palm with spit, and Bakugou helps guide your hand back to his leaking cock. Together, with his hand wrapped around yours, you move on his member, fingers trailing along the prominent vein down the front.

Once you’ve built up a rhythm, you meet Katsuki’s tender gaze. The red of his irises disappear as his eyes flutter shut. He leans forward and recaptures your mouth in a slow but sloppy makeout.

You twist your hand on Bakugou eliciting a breathy moan from him. He twitches in your hand signalling his impending orgasm.

“Can I cum in your mouth?” His mouth is by your ear, moaning and releasing hot breaths to spur you on.

You freeze, and your motions stop. Bakugou notices your alarm and moves to look directly in your eyes. “You don’t have to– I would never force you.”

“No.” you shake your head. “It’s just that I’ve never done that.”

Bakugou’s eyes widen in shock temporarily then fall back. “You want me to teach you tonight, baby?”

You bite your lip meekly and nod your head. Bakugou grins in return, helping you down to his crotch. As you come face to face with his cock, it twitches releasing some precum out of the slit.

“Just put your lips on it. Do what feels right,” he says and pulls your hair into his hands.

You kiss his member just like you would his lips. The wet noises coming from your mouth are so loud and such a turn on for Bakugou. His grip on your head tightens, and he has to force himself not to push you down.

Bakugou hisses when you place the tip in your mouth and give it a hard suck. Wanting to please him even more, you take more of him deeply in your throat. At this point you feel impaled by his large dick with your nose just a few inches from his groin.

Despite your struggle to take him in entirety, Bakugou doesn’t notice and instead groans every time you slide down on him. You gag frequently, and you’re more than certain your teeth have grazed his shaft multiple times, but Bakugou acts like this is the best head he’s ever received.

The longer you go, the more moans fall out of his open lips. His head tilts back when you curiously brush a finger down his balls. He’s much more sensitive than you imagined he would be, and his hips thrust up uncontrollably.

“Fuck, sorry,” he groans, he pulls you off of him to check if you’re okay.

“It’s alright.” You lick him one last time. “Do you think we could maybe go all the way?”

Bakugou blinks at you wordlessly. Then, after about a minute of silence, and worry, on your part, he replies. “You mean, can I take your virginity?”

You hum in reply, and Bakugou throws you back to the middle of the bed

“I left the condoms in my car,” he realizes aloud.

“That’s okay,” you whisper in his ear as seductively as you can. “I’m on the pill.”

“Fuck, okay.” Bakugou acts like your response is the sexiest thing ever.

He leans down and kisses your neck one last time. You feel his cock against your stomach leaving a hot trail of precum on your skin. Everything about this moment is hot, but you can’t take his slow kisses any longer. You need him inside of you, thrusting deep into your core.

Just when you’re about to take matters into your own hands, Bakugou leans forward and brings himself to your entrance. It is at this moment that you realize how big he is, and that he’s going to try to fit that entire thing inside of you.

You let out a deep breath when he finally slips inside. The stretch is rough, his cock prodding your most intimate crevices. As he inches into your depths, he grasps onto your hand, pulling you to him in a surprisingly romantic way.

The way Bakugou moves within you is gentle, far softer than he was when he ate you out. You can only assume he wants your first time to be soft and sweet. He grips softly at your waist, slowly moving in and out. When your eyes meet, you give him a sweet smile and a nod, hoping he’ll move a little faster.

He takes the hint well, and suddenly Katsuki leans over you, your hands meeting his hardened chest. You jolt with both pain and pleasure after the first deep thrust. Then, as he pumps his cock more and more, you feel the pain fading away, the stretch to accommodate becoming pleasant.

After Bakugou notices your growing comfort, he goes ahead with pulling almost all the way out and thrusting back in. Differently from before, you can feel him even deeper, and your body arches to meet him when your groins come together.

Swiftly, Katsuki moves you from your back to a position where you’re sitting on his lap. The sensation of him thrusting up into you makes your toes curl and loud moans to fall from your lips. In turn, Katsuki groans and continues to rut his hips like it’s his sole mission.

“You tighten up when I’m in you like this, did you know?” Katsuki groans in your ear, his hot breath hits your skin and makes you shiver.

The feeling in your cunt overwhelms you, but it’s so good, and you know now you won’t be able to get enough. Meeting Bakugou’s thrusts, you attempt to ride him, earning deep groans in return. Bakugou screws his eyes shut and allows you to move opposite to his thrusts. With the constant movement, and the occasional brush against your pleasure spot, your cunt tightens further.

Bakugou grips your ass with his large hands, wanting to feel your insides constrict even further. Unbeknownst to you, this is his first time going raw, and it’s making him cum like it’s his first time, too. So, unashamedly chasing your highs, you grind against each other as fervently as you can.

The air in the room is hot, but the heat in between your bodies as you ride him is far hotter. Both of you elicit loud noises from the other, your neighbours probably hearing your moans through the wall. Normally something like this would embarrass you to no end, but Bakugou’s fucking you so well that you feel you inhibitions melt away along with your innocence.

The coil in your stomach twists, and you feel your high coming. However, Bakugou stops short and leaves you bouncing on him by yourself. After only a split second of confusion, Bakugou slaps your ass, leaning back into a pillow.

“Want me to ride you?” you breathlessly say, attempting to make your voice sultry and not actually inquisitive.

It fails, but Bakugou doesn’t make any visible notice. Instead, he grunts out a quiet ‘yeah, please’ and grips your flesh, moving you against him. The pleasure of having him grind you on him does wonders for your pussy, and the new angle he’s hitting you at has you seeing stars.

Unlike before, Bakugou’s cock hits your g-spot every time now that you're fully riding him. The new feeling sends waves of heat to your stomach, quickly pushing you towards the edge.

Katsuki had been holding out strongly for a while, but as soon as he leaned back and let you ride, he was pretty much done for.

He feels himself unable to control his orgasm, which is creeping up way too fast. You don’t mind, though, as you’re equally as close. When you feel his dick twitching deep inside you, balls contracting and signalling his release, your cunt tightens more than it ever has before.

“Fuck, I’m cumming!” Bakugou grips your ass and pushes himself up so he can thrust again.

You, on the other hand, yelp in surprise at him readjusting your position, moaning uncontrollably as he goes so deep you think he’s hitting your cervix. You fantasize about how Katsuki slips in and out of you with ease, balls coming up to hit your ass, which unknowingly makes you milk his cock harder.

With a surprising bite to your neck, Bakugou thrusts into you one last time, and calls out your name.

The spurts of cum he makes into your pussy have you cumming on the spot, as well. Both of you moan as you reach your highs together, Bakugou trying to quell his own by pressing his hot mouth to your skin.

“Katsuki!” you cry one last time, slumping forward onto his shoulder.

Neither of you have ever felt this good—you especially, never having thought your first time would be this wild. But Bakugou surprises you with his sexual prowess, and has you basking in a hazy afterglow, one that you won’t forget anytime soon.

You blissfully gaze at him as he continues to thrust ever so slowly, milking out your orgasmatic pleasure.

His eyes are half-lidded, yet you know he’s still very alert of your bodies. Then, he, for the first time since he penetrated you, lets go of your body for a split second, and you miss the warmth of his hands, but you’re quickly satisfied by him going to grab your waist.

Bakugou effortlessly pulls you off of his body, his heavy breathing, muscled chest catching your attention. The genuine ‘splurt’ that comes from between you two when he unsheathes himself makes you blush and awkwardly chuckle in embarrassment, but Bakugou stares amazedly at your pulsating cunt.

You try to cover yourself, despite the fact that he’d seen it all before, but his hand pries your legs apart and dives towards your pussy.

“Wait,” you abruptly say, hoping he’s not already wanting more.

“Hmm?” he hums, curiously drawing a finger down your slit.

“I’m not sure I can go again.” You look at him as he dips his fingers into you ever so slightly.

Instead of replying, Bakugou sets your nerves on fire with his feathery touches. Then, when you look down, you see what’s caught his attention. It’s his milky white cum thatleaks out of your hole and onto your dark bedspread.

“Katsuki, I’m so sensitive. Am I supposed to be able to go again?” You stop his hand’s movement with your own.

“Oh, nah, sorry, baby. You were so good, I forgot you were a virgin.” He grins at you, and you feel heat blooming on your cheeks

He finally takes his hand off of your body and mumbles something about going to get something to clean you up.

“Ah, wait!” You stumble after him, your limbs too sore to hold you up properly. “Let me find something for you.”

You meet Bakugou in your ensuite where he’s already holding a towel. From the doorway, you take a step forward, but your knees buckle and you fall right into his arms.

“It was that good, huh?” he jokes, making you flush in embarrassment.

“Nuh uh,” you counter, but your wobbly legs betray your words.

He chuckles in response and sets you down on the counter, the cold surface strikingly frigid against your burning flesh. He gently pats you down with the towel, making sure his cum is wiped clean from your skin.

“All done,” he says once he’s finished wiping all your skin down.

You go to thank him, but stop when you notice yourself in the mirror. Bruises litter your neck and even your chest. When did those get there? you think to yourself.

“Oh my god, Katsuki!” You go to playfully punch him, but he catches your hand in his.

Placing one hand on your waist and the other on your chin, angling your head towards his, he places a chaste kiss on your lips.

Then, when he pulls away, a goofy grin breaks out onto his pretty face. “Oh my god, Katsuki? That’s what you’ll be saying next time.”

Your face bursts into flames, and Bakugou chuckles, holding you for a moment in your dim bathroom light. “So, when’s next time?”

a/n: hi guys!! i’m back with part 2. i’d love it if some of you sent prompts to my inbox or even commissioned me because i tried extra hard to finish this promptly 😃

tags @oldfruitloop @mimi53213 @cheyehc

[thebookworm0001]

Spoilers for the end of veilguard and specifically how solas’s story is handled under the cut

And seriously I do mean the very end of the game and I’m gonna talk about stuff that happened before then too

You have been warned

I felt satisfied with the ending.

I was able to collect all the solas memories/regret murals and very much felt like the way the ending unlocked by that was handled well.

Solas has always been a man bound by his regrets. And this game spent a lot of time establishing is primary regret is Mythal. Yes, he cares deeply about helping people and wants that world restored, but it’s less to do with the elven people and more to do with him feeling like he’s made mistake after mistake.

He’s been living in a sunk-cost fallacy for millennia and cannot see a way out. He really, really doesn’t want to do this - he knows how many people he’ll hurt to do it, but can’t see another way because if he stops now he feels like it’ll be just another betrayal of mythal when he’s already betrayed and failed her so many times. She’s the reason any of this happened.

That’s why it has to be mythal telling him to stop. He wanted to stop for a romanced lavellan - his letter says that explicitly. But he regrets mythal’s death (and his resulting actions) so much he just. Can’t let it go. What does his life mean if he can’t fulfill the wishes of the goddess that called him to service, to a body? The friend he murdered, in the end, to make up for the first time she as killed.

He was a spirit of wisdom mythal corrupted - it’s another version of Cole and the Templar who killed the human Cole. That confrontation has to happen for him to move in any direction.

And the way he absolutely crumples when he sees her? Damn if that didn’t sell me on how deeply he cares for her, beyond the murals that show how ashamed he is of what he did with and for her.

He’s always needed someone to tell him there was another way, but nobody besides mythal could absolve him of the actions he took, because they aren’t her. It’s not a matter of the nature of their relationship, rather that he cannot untie himself from the way his spirit was warped by her and the actions he took in response to her.

Idk I know people will have very different feelings and opinions on how that went down, but it made sense to me.

And my solas-romanced lavellan acted exactly how I expected her to. Granted, Ellana is the kind of lavellan who would immediately forgive him and would, no questions asked, go with him on his journey to atone. I had a whole fic planned out where she did that exact thing - even if the details weren’t what happened here.

If you have a lavellan who isn’t as sad as mine and who wouldn’t join him, yeah this ending may not work for you. But I went from being pissed at him for trapping my rook and lying about killing varric to immediately being back on my ‘fuck you’re just a deeply sad and broken man please let yourself be happy’ lament when he talked about how he failed both the world and mythal in different moments.

It worked for me. I’m satisfied by how it was handled and think the ending makes sense for the read on Solas I’ve had for the last several years. He’s just a deeply sad man who thinks he has to make up for his failures - and the one person he’s failed more than anyone tells him it’s not on him. She’s the one person he could never get forgiveness from - and he got it. And that’s why it had to be her.

[azuresage]

It gets talked about a lot but I still can't stop nerding out about Link's characterization in TotK. It's done through his many creative dialogue choices and his expressions of course, but it's also done so subtly through what he *doesn't* say. Notably, he doesn't talk about himself. And this is why nobody recognizes him unless they've already met him. Because he doesn't tell them when they've got the wrong impression of him.

The meme about Link having Tony Hawk syndrome is so real. People will look at him and straight up say, "Wow, you look exactly like Link!" without a hint of irony. Lookout Landing has a detailed picture of his face in their watchtower and the search party still doesn't recognize him. Penn works with Link for a long time and thinks he's unlucky that the Yiga keep "mistaking" him for the Hero (granted, Traysi asked him to deliberately keep quiet, but Penn still didn't put two and two together himself). I think the reason for this, aside from it being really, really funny, is that Link just doesn't talk about himself. He doesn't feel the need to.

Characterization isn't just about what we see a character doing, it's also about how other characters respond to them. Link is so unassuming and humble that he doesn't match people's expectations of what "Link" should be like. The three Gerudo ladies hanging out around Outskirt Stable are one of many perfect examples. Link stands in front of them carrying the Master Sword, but they expect the Hero to be taller than they are, with a giant glowing sword, so they don’t believe it's him. Obviously that's not the reality, but they don't know that. Link doesn't correct them, either. Again, he doesn't feel the need to.

This is also why many NPCs from BotW don't recognize or remember Link. To them, he was just a passerby that did them a good turn once 6+ years ago. Nobody's going to remember a person like that for so long after. They had no way of knowing he was the Hero, unless it came up for story quest reasons. When they hear stories about the Princess's Appointed Knight who woke up from his 100 year nap, defeated the Calamity, and rescued Zelda, they imagine someone larger than life. Then when they see what Link actually is like, they can't put two and two together.

This is true even during the Hyrule Restoration efforts. Link always follows behind Zelda as her shadow, which she notes in her diary, but the people in the stable investigation quests and in Hateno don't recognize him either, even though he went everywhere she did. Link is just that unassuming. He resigns himself to being a shadow, allowing Zelda to take the lead and do as she pleases but always staying nearby to support and protect her. He doesn't need to be recognizable to do his job. And we know from both BotW and now TotK that he's wholly devoted to her. He's content with this. Many people more eloquent than I have spent many paragraphs elaborating on this. I just wanted to focus on what it says about his character.

Link is humble and unassuming, so much so that nobody believes that he's the Hero unless they already know him. He's devoted to Zelda, so much so that he's willing to do anything to chase even a glimpse of her. He doesn't talk about himself or correct people who have the wrong impression of him. He doesn't need to do that to chase his Zelda. He is a person of great humility in spite of his station. I think that's so interesting and neat how the comedy of him being unrecognizable also tells us all this about him. It's also cool how this is only one aspect of him; all the dialogue choices and expressions he makes during cutscenes and actions out in the world show a whole other, lighter side to him that meshes with this. It's all so good. I am in love with it. It always kills me inside when people dismiss his characterization as being nonexistant or flat just because it's not spoonfed to them or when they say Link being unrecognizable is lazy writing instead of a deliberate choice. I am biting and gnawing and gnashing over him and his relationship to Zelda. I love them so much.

[skipper1331]

First // Lotte Wubben-Moy

Meeting each other

Lotte was walking down the streets of London when someone, you, approached her. "Um hi? Could you help me please?" you asked politely, your accent thick. To be honest, you stood there already for 8 minutes and thought about who to talk to, but everyone looked kinda scary or like they were in a hurry so you didn‘t. Until now.

"Yeah sure!" the brunette answered, smiling bright. "I‘m looking for the book store? My phone‘s telling me it‘s here but um, well?" you fidgeted with your phone, showing her the screen. The stranger chuckled, knowing which store you meant "It used to be here" she pointed at a shop, the same spot where your phone told you it would be "but they moved in to a bigger building. Actually, I was on my way there. You can join me if you want?" you looked at her skeptically, not to be rude, it was just your general look when talking to strangers. "Oh gosh! You‘re probably thinking i‘m some murderer" her eyes went big, "you have to walk down the street, then turn left, walk down to the café where you turn right and then again left-" she rambled, explaining the way to the store. "I‘d really appreciate it" you cut her off, outstretching your hand, "I‘m Y/n"

She smiled, "I‘m Lotte"

First date, first kiss

"Wow, you look beautiful" the defender told you as you were close enough, herself standing at her car. "Thank you" you blushed, cheeks turning red. She opened the door for you before she ran around the car, taking a seat behind the steering wheel. "Where are you gonna take me?"

"Wouldn‘t be a suprise If I told you, would it?" she grinned, driving away from your home.

Arriving at your destination, "could you close your eyes for me?" she asked. "Should I be afraid?" you chuckled, nonetheless closing your eyes. "With me? Never" she pecked your cheek as she slung her arm around your waist, guiding you along the street. "Take a big step" you did as she told. The feeling that you entered a building was confirmed when you heard the elevator 'ding'. Lotte had her arm secured around your body while you went to the top floor, "last few steps" she whispered, "you can open your eyes." Slowly, you opened your eyes, blinking a few timest adjust, "Lotte- this is… wow" you stuttered as you stepped outside on the roof terrace. There was one table, two chairs and basket in the middle, the view was breathtaking. She walked past you, pulling the chair back, "M‘Lady"

The next hours were spent with talking and eating, everything flowed with an ease as if you knew each other for years. Every now and then the brunette would compliment you, your cheeks turning bright red as your mouth formed an upside-down smile as result.

It was already dark when you left the roof, Lotte claiming she would take care of the cleaning.

She drove you back home, escorting you to your front door. Just, you know, to be sure you‘re safe. "Thank you for tonight. Nobody has ever done something this special for me" you admitted, taking a step closer. Gently, you pressed your lips to her cheek. As you pulled away, she tilted her head down, her hands placing themselves on your waist "I‘ll make every date special for you if you let me" she whispered, resting her forehead against yours.

"Are you asking me on a second date?"

Grinning, she replied, "And a third"

"Let’s say; second date and ice cream, for the third you have to ask again"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah"

"Second date and ice cream it is then" with each spoken word you inched closer to one another, not much air to breath left in-between. Meeting in the middle, you closed the gap, Lotte sighed against your lips, her warm breath fanning against them as you melted in the embrace of each other, lips moving in sync.

Girlfriend question

Lotte had always been a sweetheart, she remembered all the things you told her, complimented you all the time and appreciated everything you‘ve done and said.

One afternoon, the two of you went for a walk in the park, you were holdings hands, talking about books. Both of you loved a good book, a book you can‘t put down because it‘s so good. You didn‘t know why or how the conversation took a turn but one moment you were talking about books and then you were talking about letters. They‘re similiar yet so different. "As a kid I always wanted to be asked with a note, you know? The 'will you be my girlfriend note, yes-no'. It‘s just so romantic" you admitted, giggling. You didn't even think about what you had said, you weren't a couple yet, but somehow you were still together. You just told her out of the conversation about your dream/wish as a child. You had no idea that her whole body would tense; since weeks she was trying to figure out who to ask you that question.

She had her answer.

Will you be my girlfriend?

□ yes

□ no

Doodles were across the note, making it more personal. Her own style added to the so important question.

She waited a few days, the note hiding in her pocket.

She was at your apartment, sitting on the couch as you made tea, your book resting on the coffee table. She took the opportunity, swapping the bookmark with her note. Now, the only thing she had to do was to wait.

And hope you would tick the right box.

"Ready for pitch perfect?" you asked as you entered the living room with to cups in your hand. Lotte laughed at your excitement, opening her arms so you could make yourself comfortable in her embrace.

When you found the letter your heart swelled with love, a wide smile growing on your face.

-

Taking a walk with Lotte was your favorite thing to do, there was something so peacefully about it. After walking for about an hour, you took a seat on a bench near a small lake, thighs touching. Lottes arm was around your shoulders as your body leaned against hers. Silently, you slipped your hand in the pocket of your (Lottes) hoodie taking out the answered note. The defender looked down at you - your hand - the note.

You opened the letter, herself smiling as she saw the answer.

yes

Pressing her lips to your forehead, she pulled you closer, "Glad you‘re officially my girl now" she mumbled, peppering happily more kisses across your face.

First time she realizes she loves you

Arsenal vs Chelsea

Red vs Blue

The match was intense, Chelsea had their chances as did Arsenal but in the end Lessi shot the game winning goal for the gunners. Lotte was exhausted though, she had to do tackle after tackle, defending Sam Kerr, Guro Reiten, anyone from the Blues was hard, they were amazing players. Yet knowing that you were in the stands gave her the motivation to play better than her best, show off her skills, impress you. You didn't need to be impressed, you knew the defender's talent and skill, you had seen her train and play often. The brunette was a great defender, every time you saw her in her club or national jersey she took your breath away. When the final whistle blew the girls shook their opponents hand and took a few minutes to talk to their friends. Meanwhile in the stands you talked to Lessi‘s brother, a super nice guy.

As Alessia and Lotte chatted with Millie, Lottes gaze wandered every so often to you, heart eyes and lovestruck smile displayed on her face. She couldn’t keep her eyes of you. There you were, in her jersey, watching her doing the thing she loved. The defender didn‘t even realize that her Chelsea friend said bye, only Less left. The blonde swung her arm over your girlfriends shoulder, poking her cheek "Earth to Lotte" she waved in front of her face, "hello"

"Huh?"

"You‘re so in love" the italian laughed, pulling her towards her brother and you.

Yeah, i love her.

First time you realize you love her

She sat on the couch, yourself sitting in between her legs, back resting against her front as her arms were around you, her hands holding your favorite book.

The day you told her that it was your favorite book, she made it her mission to buy and read it as fast as possible. "Unfortunately, hardly anyone knows it." you said. She would be the first person you could talk to about the book, who appreciated your passion about it and understood why you liked the scenes you liked.

As she read the lines out loud, occasionally after finishing a page, pressing a kiss to your head, you realized how lucky you were to have her, how happy she made you and the little things she did or said to you which made your heart melt, swell and swoon.

You loved her.

First I love you

You stayed over at the brunettes apartment, the girl claiming that she didn‘t want you to go home alone in the dark. It was only half of the truth because actually she wanted to fall asleep in your hold, having a good night sleep in your arms. However, you couldn‘t sleep so after two hours of trying, you woke the brunette up, "baby?" Lotte grumbled, pushing her head further in to your chest, "Lotte? Lotte, wake up" in her mind your voice sounded desperate, scared. It did but not in the dangerous kind of way she thought.

"I‘m up! I‘m up! What‘s wrong? You alright?"

"Can we make cookies?" you whispered, puppy dog eyes looking at your lover. She rubbed her eyes, her brain still in a sleepy state, not registering what you just said. As she groggily nodded, you jumped out of bed, happily patting towards her kitchen. What did she agree to, she asked herself.

Slightly more awake, the defender helped you to bake cookies at 3am in the morning - anything to make you happy. Music was softly playing the background, the two of you swaying along as the cookies were in the oven. Your arms were around her neck as her hands rested on your waist, foreheads resting against one anothers. In a peaceful night, both of you felt at peace being in each others grasp, dancing along.

"I love you" you whispered, it was the perfect moment to confess your love. The love you held for the lioness was something you couldn‘t describe even If you wanted to, the only thing you could admit was that it was powerful and honest.

"I love you, too"

First anniversary

"Date night, my love" Lotte told you before she blindfolded you. "You look beautiful by the way" she added, her eyes roaming over your body, a big smile on her face which you couldn’t see.

"Thank you, baby" you puckered your lips, wanting to recieve a kiss - you did. "Where are you taking me?" you asked while she wrapped her arm around your midsection, "it‘s a suprise" guiding you to her car. "Carefully, sit down" she turned your body so you could take a seat without hurting yourself, herself running around the car before she started driving to the place where she had planned your date night. Something about the car journey felt familiar even though you couldn‘t see anything.

After a few minutes the car came to a stop, Lotte ran around the car to your side and opened your door. As she helped you out of the car she slung her arm back around your waist, guiding you.

When you heard the elevator 'ding' you had a feeling where you were. Nonetheless happy to be with her. "I‘m gonna take the blindfold off" she stated as she began to take it off, "happy anniversary!" the brunette squealed, hugging you from behind. The roof terrace was decorated the same way as it was for your first date, maybe even prettier "Baby, this amazing" you admired, leaning in to her touch, "happy anniversary indeed" you giggled, turning your head to face her, a love struck smile covered both of your faces. As the defender inched closer you met her halfway, lips meeting in sweet but promising kiss. Many more to come.

Throughout your date night Lotte was the sweetheart itself, like always. You had a nice meal together, joked around, the two of you acted like always: madly in love.

"I‘ve got you something" your girlfriend stated, looking shy around, "It‘s nothing big but i thought- maybe, you would like it?" A grin plastered over your features, you had a present for her as well. "Here" she handed you her gift, packed in wrapping paper. As you held it you could feel what it was, a book. As you slowly unwrapped it, you could see what it was, your favorite book. You looked at her confused, you had it at home? Why would she give it to you?

"Open it"

Then you saw it.

To Y/n

With every best wish,

their signature. In your favorite book, there was a note with the signature of your favorite author in it. What?! How? How was that possible? Your eyes grew wide, your mouth fell open, "Lotte" you wanted to say so much more but nothing came. The only thing you could do was- well nothing. Fondly, the defender smiled at you, she could tell from your body language that you‘re happy - overcome with joy yet shocked, confused.

As you came back to your senses you lunged towards her. Arms wrapping around her neck, placing yourself on her lap, hugging her like your life was at risk. You still couldn‘t say anything, you just fell more and more in love with the person you already loved most. To her, your enjoyment and happiness was everything. The way your eyes lit up, the way your mouth fell agape, the way your smile reached across your whole face - it made her more than happy.

Your happiness was her everything.

Move in

In Lottes eyes you seemed to be nervous. She had been keeping an eye on you all day, something was off. She just couldn‘t figure out what. Under her touch your stressed state would wash away - which she noticed so she tried be close to you, having an arm around you, holding your hand, pressing kisses to your skin. However, the longer the day went on, the more nervous you became. It wasn't the kind of nervousness you had when you were about to give a presentation but rather the kind that made you fear what the answer was.

"You‘re nervous what‘s wrong?" the brunette asked as she started to massage your shoulders. "Nothing, my love, i‘m fine" you replied, your body betraying your wording. Your shoulders were tense, body melting in to the taller woman, eyes closing as you leaned against her.

"Take to me, baby" she mumbled, pressing a loving kiss to your temple. You hummed, "i‘ve been thinking…" she gave you a gentle squeeze, she was listening. "About us" Other people would have gotten nervous by now but not Lotte. She had no reason to be, things were going well between you two, you were as in love as you were on the first day, if not more so. She knew that. She knew how much in love you were with her - you showed her every minute, every hour of the day. "You can talk to me, love" she reassured you, soft kisses pressed against your head. "I want to move in with you."

The defender froze, that‘s what made you nervous? You felt the change in her body language immediately, the way her touch seemed to be distant. "We don‘t have to. I just thought," you turned around in her distant grasp "we‘re always here" you looked around her apartment, "i‘m rarely at mine anymore"

A big smile broke out on her face, "Of course! You already have your own toothbrush and drawers, you can move in straight away" she chuckled, pulling you closer, her once distant touch feeling closer than ever.

First decade

Laying in your wifes arms on the patio, stargazing had always been magical - this time no difference. With every kiss pressed on your skin your heart would skip a beat, your cheeks turned red and an upside-down smile would cover your features. "Is Mrs. Wubben-Moy getting all shy?" the og-lioness laughed, loving the fact that you shared her last name. It was nothing new but made both of your hearts still burst with love and joy. "Stop laughing at me" playfully, you slapped her chest, "as if you don‘t get shy"

"What? Me? Neverrr" the defender denied, knowing well enough how shy and flustered she could get in your proximity. A comfortable silence came over as you watched the stars.

As the first shooting star passed through the night sky, you broke the silence, "It‘s hard to believe that we‘ve been together for ten years" you admitted. Loving Lotte was the best thing and the greatest honor in your live but If you had told your younger-self that you met the love of your life because google maps was wrong, younger-you would‘ve laughed at you. And who was to blame? It was the perfect plot for a romance book or a crap wattpad story. The question was: who was writting your story?

"I hope my love story doodle never ends"

————————

[miniwheat77]

You shouldn’t kiss me like this. (Ghost x Reader.)

!nsfw, smut, unprotected p in v sex, cheating, Ghost manipulates reader, coercion, non con just in case, NO MINORS!

The title is a song from Toby, was kinda my inspiration, RIP❤️

The day Ghost met you, he knew you were his.

He got close with you immediately, and you spent all day every day around each other and Captain Price knew better than to separate the both of you on missions. Ghost wanted to be near you all the time and while Captain Price thought it was a little odd, he just figured Ghost was overprotective.

Nobody knew Ghosts real intentions, and when he found out you had a boyfriend, it felt like someone tore a hole in his chest.

But that didn’t stop him. He knew you were his and he knew he’d do anything for that to happen. Anything.

The closer you got, the more touchy he was. It was friendly, he always made sure it was friendly. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable and scare you off because he knew how affectionate he so desperately wanted to be. So he did the bare minimum. He moved your hair out of your face, he’d touch your shoulders, wrap his hand around your back when he was leading you somewhere. He did everything, he wanted you to know how good he could treat you. So much better than your boyfriend ever could.

One night, he made a mistake.

You looked so pretty, you were up late with him. He was in your room and he was cracking jokes and you were laughing. Something he wanted to hear every single second of every day.

He kissed you.

You mistakenly kissed him back, before pulling yourself away from him. You started to panic because you have a boyfriend and you couldn’t do that to him. Ghost ended up leaving and you were stressed out.

He apologized to you the next day, said he didn’t know what had gotten into him and you were cold for weeks afterward. Ghost nearly went crazy. Johnny even caught him tearing apart his room when nobody else was around. He wouldn’t tell Johnny why but the sudden separation between the both of you told him everything he needed to know. This is where Johnny knew a serious talk needed to happen.

He didn’t hesitate to tell Ghost everything he needed to hear, he knew he didn’t want to. But he had to. He explained that his behavior was obsessive and dangerous and that he knew he likes you, but he needed to calm down. If he couldn’t keep his cool over something like this, he shouldn’t be around you. And while Ghost understood, he couldn’t help himself. You were his, not that stupid boyfriend of yours. He could show you, he will. Ghost even had your boyfriend’s location pin pointed on a map, he’d have you.

By any means necessary.

Of course he didn’t want it to come to that. It was his last resort. But he was willing to do anything.

You were distant after and he was already going to lose you. He could feel it deep down, he crossed a path he couldn’t come back from. There was no going back now. So late at night, his boots still clad on his feet, he made his way to your room.

He made sure to walk quietly, he didn’t want anyone to know it was him. He didn’t want anyone to know where he was going, what he was going to do. He opens up your door, you’re half asleep, perking up when your door opens. “Ghost?” You ask tiredly, clicking on your lamp. You’re rubbing your eyes and his heart aches in his chest. You look so pretty when you’re like this. He adores waking you in the morning because of your tired eyes and how warm and comfortable you are. He can’t stand another day of this. Not one more.

“Y/N.” He sighs. He closes your door behind him, stepping inside. “I.. I need to know.” He sits on the edge of your bed, lifting your hand into his. “Did you feel anything when I kissed you?” He asks you. “Ghost-“

“Please… just be honest.” His eyes glow under the moonlight. Tears gathering at his waterline.

Of course, you don’t know that they’re fake. Crocodile tears.

“Ghost.. I can’t do this with you. I have a boyfriend.” You go to move, but he stops you. “That means nothing to me, darling. Y/N.. I love you. I know that I said it was an accident. But it wasn’t. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I think you’re so pretty, so fucking amazing.” He sucks in a sharp breath. Hating that the tears are becoming real now. How fucking weak he looks in front of you, how dare you open him up like this and reject him.

He swallows hard, trying to stop the cries seeping from his throat. “Just listen to me..” he breathes. “I can take care of you.”

“I… I did feel something when I kissed you. But you and I both know that I have a boyfriend and I can’t be acting a fool with you when I’m still with him.” You look up at him. “It’s not fair, and you know that Ghost. I’m not a cheater.”

“Than why’d you kiss me back?”

You clench your eyes closed. He knows why.

Because you’re overwhelmed, have feelings that you can’t change or fight off. He knows you like him too, he needs your boyfriend gone.

Suddenly, something comes to mind.

“You’ve opened up to me. About him.” Ghost mumbles. “You said that he’s being distant. That he’s got some friends he’s going out with and not messaging you back.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not normal Y/N. He.. please just look into it. I care about you.” He sighs.

“You’re just saying that..” you sigh. “It’s only.. what? 4pm on the west coast? Call him Y/N.”

“Ghost, you’re acting really weird. I’ll call him when I’m up.” Ghost shakes his head, he can’t do it.

He forces himself into you, smashing his lips to yours and you try to force him off but he’s not letting go this time. He keeps you close, moving his lips with yours. He straddles you and eventually, you give in.

“Ghos- plea-“

“Simon!” You shove him back. “I was going to do it when I went home okay!” He freezes up at your use of his name.

You barely get the words out before he can kiss you again. He looks shocked. “I.. I was going to when I got home from deployment.” You clench your eyes shut. “What?”

“I was going to cut things off with him. When it was fair. I’m not a cheater, Simon.”

He sighs. He can’t help but feel like this is you just saying this, to get him away from you. “I want this, I do. But it’s wrong. You wouldn’t want this done to you.” You sigh. “Okay.. okay Y/N.” He stands up.

“I’ll leave you alone.” He sighs. “But.. I want you to know.” He pauses just before he grasps the door handle. “I would do anything for you. I think you’re the most beautiful, kind, loving girl. You are perfect in every single way, and nothing will change that.” He breathes, stepping outside. He closes the door behind himself. You sigh. Seeing your phone sitting on your nightstand. You pick it up, he’s right. It’s only about 4pm where he’s at.

You open up your conversation, seeing plenty of sent messages and none in return. Ghost is right, he’s been acting weird. You said so yourself. You breathe. Fingers typing across the screen before you can stop yourself.

We need to talk.

After all of those messages, of course this is the one he responds to.

What’s going on?

You breathe out. You hate this. You hate this more than anything.

I’m going to ask you something and I need you to be completely honest with me.

He hesitates for a second. The chat bubble appears and disappears a couple of times before you finally get a message back.

Okay.

Is there someone else?

Again, the bubble appears and disappears a few times. A few minutes go by.

Y/N…

Please. Just be honest.

You clench your eyes shut, you don’t know if you should feel relieved or sad.

I’m sorry.

Why didn’t you tell me?

I wanted to wait until you got back from deployment. When it was fair.

Seeing as those same words left your lips, you want to scream.

I have to sleep now, we’ll talk about this tomorrow. But this is officially the end of us.

I love you. I always will.

Goodnight.

You set your phone down and stand up. Marching right out your door to go to his room. You barge right inside and you startle him completely, he doesn’t even have his mask on. “Y/N- Jesus Christ.” He spins around. His back to you. The only thing he has on are his jeans. No shirt, no boots. No mask. Just bare Simon.

You wrap your hand around his torso and force him to look at you. Planting your lips right into his. He kisses you back but knows, he can’t.

He pushes you back. “Y/N- you were right okay? You shouldn’t kiss me like this.” He sighs. He’s staring down at you. “I wouldn’t want you doing this to me so you’re right..” he sighs. And just as Simon is having his come to Jesus moment.

“He’s been seeing someone else, just shut up and kiss me Riley.”

Hearing those words leave your lips, finally. Blood seeming to stop right in his veins. Heart hesitating before it takes its next beat. You’re his.

He does. He kisses you again, lifting you up and letting you wrap your legs around his waist and laying you down on his bed, going to stake his claim. You’re his, you’ve always been his and he’ll show you. He’ll do whatever it takes.

He pulls away for just a second to tug his jeans down, you’re pushing your shorts down. Desperate to feel him.

His tip is nudging at your entrance and he kisses you, swallowing up your moan as he sinks inside of you. Filling you up. It’s been months since you’ve been touched like this. Years since it’s felt as good as he feels now. To be with someone who wants you, who’ll do anything for you. You cry into his lips but it’s muffled, he’s probably more rough than he intends but he can’t help himself. He needs this, he needs you. He drives himself into you until you’ve got tears bordering your waterline, how the hell you managed to wait this long with someone like Simon at your door at every beck and call. Looking back now, it was over from the start. A neglectful boyfriend and a man who’ll worship the ground you walk on, it was doomed.

Simon knew it from the beginning, the tightness of you around him, finally giving into him. It’s bittersweet and he relishes in the way you feel around him. He’s going to cherish you, and he’s going to make sure you’re his forever no matter what the cost. He lowers one of his hands, pulling back to look at you. He takes a second to really take you in, lips parted. Your cheeks are flushed and you’re panting. Soaking wet around him.

He rubs circles into your clit with his fingers, not applying too much pressure but just enough until you’re melting into him completely. He works his hips into yours, gliding between your walls perfectly, working the best orgasm you’re sure you’ll ever have out of you. It’s desperate and it’s sloppy, but neither of you care. You need this, you’ve needed this for months. “Fuck.. you feel so good Y/N.” He whines. You raise your hands up to cup his face, pulling him down into you again. “You feel good too Simon, so good.” You hiss. This is the first time you’ve gotten a good like at Simon with his mask off. His skin is clear and he’s got stubble filling out his jawline. His eyes are piercing and he’s stunning. You pull him in to kiss you again.

You can feel your thighs starting to shake and his thrusts are getting sloppy and desperate. You’re both so close to the edge.

“Cum with me.” His voice is almost at a whisper.

The knot unravels and he kisses you again just as you go to cry out, he groans into the kiss. It drowns out the sounds from the both of you. He rides our your high, taking a few extra thrusts to staple it what he wants. Filling you up to the hilt. He doesn’t care about the consequences anymore, he doesn’t care what happens now, now that you’re with him.

He rests his forehead on your chest. Fucked out and exhausted. The stress of this morning and you avoiding him long gone. He didn’t expect this.

“I’m sorry about your boyfriend, Y/N.”

You snort at him. “Are you though?“

“I’m sorry that he hurt you.”

You roll your eyes. “I think we both know by meeting you, we were doomed from the start.”

He laughs at this. “Maybe you’re right, but I’ve got you now. And I won’t take advantage of that. As long as you’re with me, you’ll always be safe. And I swear I’ll take care of you, no matter the cost.” He breathes. “Even if you don’t want it.” You can’t help but smile. Pulling him into you, hugging him close to you.

Maybe this is everything you’ve been looking for.

[seullovesme]

Hi I saw you write for nmixx so can I request a childhood friends to lovers fic with Sullyoon? Thanks!

enchanted » seol yoona

pairing ⥬ sullyoon x childhood bff!reader

genre ⥬ fluff at the end

summary ⥬ after making a new friend, sullyoon slowly starts to spend more of her time with her rather than with you. "please don't be in love with someone else.."

warnings ⥬ slight angst, reader is lowkey jealous

WC ⥬ 1.9k

you sigh at your phone, yet another message was left on read by the one girl you looked forward to messaging each day. you shut it off, flipping it over to look at the polaroid of the two of you.

you were cheek to cheek, smiling as wide as possible as you hugged her tightly. it was taken by her mother right after your 17th birthday that you had spent with her, and it was one of your most treasured pictures together as it was also the day you realized you had fallen for her. it was both a blessing and a curse to have noticed her effect on you.

after discovering your romantic feelings for yoona, every moment felt like it was magnified times ten. every hug, every touch, every laugh, you felt every second of each moment in the depths of your heart, and even quiet times where nobody would say anything was enough to make you want to cry in happiness. she felt closer than before.

the downside is now you're too aware of her distance.

just a couple of weeks ago, she had mentioned that she had met a girl at her part-time job at the cafe and she was introduced to you a few days later. her new friend was gorgeous. her name was kim minji and she was also working at that cafe, still under training by your best friend.

you had a nice time meeting her, which you had told yoona afterwards when she was bugging you about your thoughts on her new buddy. minji was nothing but kind and fun to talk to. maybe that's why yoona began to talk to her more than she did with you.

after that week, she would tell you all about the funny things that happened during her time training minji and how much she loved to spend time with her. you listened to every word she said with a smile on your face, trying to ignore the way your heart wavered at her words. she was allowed to have friends, so you weren't going to tell her you were just jealous because she had fun with someone else.

over time, it only got worse for you. you reminded yourself that you weren't jealous of kim minji every time your best friend had told you she was already going out with her whenever you asked to hangout, but her time was always spent with her new best friend. "sorry, not this friday, me and minji are gonna go shopping!", "omg you won't believe what minji did at work today!", "do you think minji would like the cafe we always go to?", it was always her.

there was a point where you couldn't handle the pain anymore and started to return the energy by ignoring her messages, turning down all her hangout invites, and you stopped visiting her house. you were hoping that she would ask what was wrong, or at least acknowledge that something in your friendship changed, but she didn't seem to even notice. probably distracted by that kim minji..

but how could you hate her? she was only ever kind to you and you could tell that your shy best friend had so easily opened up to this girl, so why did you want to hate her so badly?

you screamed into your pillow, punching it over and over, letting your heart pour out every emotion that was tearing away at it. you yelled and cried, freeing the bottled up frustration, and it was starting to kinda relieve that straining ache in your chest. you calmed down and sat there with a hand over where your heart sits, feeling how fast it was beating as your chest rose and fell.

loud footsteps thundered from behind your room door. before you had any time to react, a troubled yoona bursted through, panting heavily. "y/n!" she called, worried laced in her tone. she dashed to you and cupped your face in her hands. you barely had time to process and the fact that your cheeks were a thousand degrees didn't help. she moved your face to observe every inch, her eyebrows tensed in concern.

"yoona, what are you doing.." you asked shyly. she stopped moving you and just looked into your eyes as if she was searching for answers in them.

she let go and sighed loudly. "you were screaming, and i thought you got hurt. why are you crying?"

"when did you get here, or why are you here?" you ignore her question, confused on why she randomly decided to show up at your home. she just nervously tapped her knee as her eyes darted around your room. she pulled out her phone for a moment, seeming to be reading over something. she set her phone down onto your side table.

"i'll be right back, don't go anywhere. i have something for you." she says quickly before leaving your room at the speed of light, leaving you no time to clear up your confusion. she really never gives you any time to react at all.

you hear a buzz come from your nightstand and you look to see yoona's phone screen shining brightly, still open from when she was using it. another buzz was heard. you contemplated on picking it up, not knowing if she would be okay with it, but you two always shared your phones. your curiosity got the best of you and you picked it up.

3 notifications from "minji 🤩🤩🤩"

you clicked on the notification, opening their text messages together.

your hand hovered over your mouth, covering the way your jaw fell after reading through the most recent texts. you dropped yoona's phone onto the floor, the crash echoing through the silent room. yoona stood at the doorway and watched as the phone hit the ground. she knew you saw something you shouldn't have.

she ran to the phone and flipped it, seeing that her dms were open. she looked up at you and tried to decipher what that face meant. were you happy? mad? sad? she couldn't tell if you being so flabbergasted was a good thing or a bad one. "listen y/n–"

"you like me? wait no, you're in love with me?" you asked at a whisper level. yoona felt like crawling into a shell. she wanted to hide from the confrontation, but she had to do it eventually.

she inhaled. "yes, i'm in love with you. i've known that since we were 13." she sighed and hid her face into her palms. "i didn't mean for you to find out like this, i wanted to confess with flowers and a beautiful dinner, maybe even see the sunset together. not in your bedroom with you accidentally finding out because i was stupid and left my phone here. i.. love you and i will keep loving you, so don't be afraid to tell me you don't feel the same. we'll always be the best of friends and i can learn to–" she stopped talking to catch you as you jumped into her, wrapping your arms around her neck.

"we're so silly.. yoona, i had no idea that you even thought of me romantically, i thought that.." you paused to look away, a little shy to admit it out loud. "i thought you fell for minji." it was her turn to be the surprised one. you pulled onto your bed, seating her right beside you, shoulder to shoulder. her head turned to you and she realized how close the two of you really were, getting a bit red.

"minji? why minji?"

"well, you always spent more time with her after you met her. even when you weren't with her, you would talk about her. it just seemed like kim minji was the only girl who clouded your mind." you muttered the last sentence, feeling shy saying that straight up. the corner of yoona's lips started to curl up.

"you've got it all wrong. you are the only girl who clouds my mind, not minji. she's just one of my closest friends and besides, i'm pretty sure she has a girlfriend."

"then why do you always talk about her like she's the only thing you ever think about?" you complain, huffing as you cross your arms. your jealousy is only adorable to yoona because you're acting like a sad puppy, which makes her giggle.

"i was always worried that if i didn't talk about minji, then i would end up thinking about you and how much i just want to hold you."

"why? did you not want to?"

"what? of course i did, but i didn't want you to see it wrong. after that night of your 17th birthday, my feelings were only growing stronger and we were so close, i didn't want to ruin years of pure happiness with you just because of my dumb heart." she put her hand over her heart, trying to calm it down. "i wanted to kiss you that day, every second i was with you i thought about doing it. you were glowing and just so happy, and seeing you be so vibrant because we spent the day together.. it gave me hope that you loved me the way i loved you."

when she finished, you remained silent, looking into her eyes. tell her you love her, tell her you love her, tell her you–

"well i do, i love you the same way you love me."

the girl was speechless. yoona felt like she was floating, pouncing on you the moment your words settled in. you laughed as she hugged you tightly. you laid back on your bed and kept her in your arms, cuddling her into your side. she let go to sit up, staring at your lips.

as soon as you smiled, she leaned down and kissed you. you melted into the kiss you had been dreaming about for so long, loving how her lips felt on yours. you only stopped because you both needed to breathe, otherwise you would have continued. nothing about the kiss was sexual, but instead felt like every feeling, emotion, and desire you both had been holding in for so long.

"i've been waiting for that." she says while catching her breath. "it feels good to be near you, it feels like forever since i last saw you."

"and whose fault is that?" you raise an eyebrow at her, clearly accusing her of being the reason. she gasps in offense.

"me?! you're the one who's been turning me down!" she shoots back in a lighthearted manner.

you scoff. "okay, the hypocrisy is insane, you've been turning me down to hang out with minji!"

yoona opens her mouth to say something, but closes it when she realizes that she has been doing that. she lays back down and places her arm around your torso, pulling you into her. "alright, alright. you're right, i have been doing that, but it was within reason. the one where i didn't want to ruin everything." you let out an airy laugh at how dumb that sounded. you both were so clueless that avoiding your love for each other was actually the thing keeping you apart.

"i know, it's okay. don't do that anymore. from now on, let's be 100 percent honest with each other about things like this." yoona nods in agreement, snuggling against your neck.

it was nice to finally be able to love the girl of your dreams, your best friend, your soulmate, and call her yours.

[madi-writes-things]

Francesca Pt. 1

Summary:

It broke Schlatt when he had to let Y/N go, But he would go through hell a thousand times if it meant he got to hold her again.

“If I could hold you for a minute… I’d go through it again.”

Word Count: 1.09 K

TW: Mental Illness, angst, ocd, depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, break up, pining, feelings of worthlessness, basically a self insert without a physical description, Based in Texas… because so am I

A/N: I’m totally ok, and definitely not scared of my mental illness… 👀

-Madi <3

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

My bags are packed before Jay gets home. I don’t want to make this any harder than it has to be. I should probably leave before he gets here, but he deserves an explanation. I’m not really sure what to say when he gets here, but he doesn’t deserve to be ghosted…

When the door opens I regret my decision to stay. He’s holding an H-E-B bag with frozen pizzas and ranch.

My favorite.

The second he locks eyes with me I break down. The bag falls from his hand as he rushes to pull me into a hug.

“What’s wrong pumpkin? What happened?” His voice is filled love and tenderness, very different from his online persona. It makes me cry harder.

“I can’t do this Jay… I-” He pulls me impossibly closer, mumbling a quiet ‘don’t do this’. “I already packed everything into my car. I can’t ask you to stay, I wouldn’t do that to you…”

He knows that I’ve been struggling lately, but I would never ask him to understand the extent of my anguish. I could never tell him about my hours spent researching. The notes. The fear of being alone with myself.

All I’ve ever wanted is to marry the man of my dreams, and have a big family. My mind constantly tells me that I can’t have it…

Nobody would want to deal with you, he’d get tired of it eventually. What if your kids are crazy like you? You don’t want to run the risk that he has to find you dea-

“You aren’t doing anything to me, you don’t have to do this… we can get through this, we can get you whatever help you need… please…”

I’m doing this because I love him. I can tell when he sees the look in my eyes, he mumbles a quick okay before leaving to put the pizzas in the freezer.

I run to lock myself in the bathroom… I feel like I’m going to throw up.

“”“”“”“”“”

When I finally get myself together, I leave the bathroom on a mission to get out quickly. It takes me a while before I realize what’s happening.

“where the hell did you put my keys Jay?” I see him sitting at our table, set with two plates of pizza and two glasses of wine.

“You’re not driving right now… I just heard you have a twenty minute panic attack, you’re in no headspace to drive.” I know he won’t give me the keys, no matter how much I try to convince him. “Do you even have anywhere to go?” I just shake my head. He gets up and walks into our bedroom.

I can hear him on the phone with Ted, he’s asking if I can stay in LA with him. When he returns, we sit down to eat the now cold pizza.

“What did he say?” I didn’t necessarily want to move across the country, but we both know I wouldn’t be able to actually leave well enough alone if I stayed.

I can tell that he’s been crying, but I know that this is what’s truly best for him in the long run. “He said yes, obviously. I’ll drive you to his place, and catch a flight back.” I knew that there was no convincing him to leave me alone for extended periods of time… I wonder if Ted told him not to let me out of his sight.

He probably did.

After dinner Jay offers to sleep on the couch, but I tell him that I don’t want our last night to be spent in different parts of the house.

He holds me as I cry myself to sleep.

This is what’s best for him.

“”“”“”“”“”

The nearly twenty hour drive was silent, stopping whenever the gas gauge lit up. Jay always knew what to get me from the gas station, while I stayed in the car reading. About halfway through the ride he finally decided to play some music, our shared playlist flowing through the tense atmosphere.

I decided to take a nap at some point, and was awoken by Jay gently shaking my shoulder while handing me some food that he had gotten. “We’ve only got about an hour left… you need to eat, and I think we should talk about it.”

No. You can’t handle this, the car ride is hell as is… and now he wants you to talk about why you’re breaking his heart?

“There’s not much to talk about Jay… there isn’t any way to convince me that it was a mistake.” I can see the hurt look in his eyes when I say it, and I really didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh. “I love you so much… and I promise, this is for you.”

He starts to try and argue, before settling on asking about publicity. My only response is that we can deal with it separately. I finish my food, and finish the last few chapters of my book.

“”“”“”“”“”

It takes less than an hour to move all of my stuff into Ted’s guest room.

Ted is my best friend, and we’ve known each other for years. He introduced me to the job prospects of the internet. He introduced me to all of his colleagues when I was first starting on YouTube…

He introduced me to Jay.

After helping move everything in, Jay got ready to fly out. He said a quick goodbye to me, before going outside to talk to Ted.

They were out there for a really long time.

What if he’s convincing Ted that you are a horrible person?

What if they’re working together to get you put away?

What if you opened the window?

What if you jumped?

My phone is in my hand immediately, looking up the likelihood of injury/death from a second story jump. Very unlikely. Shit.

All of the sudden, the walls feel too close. The window is too far. I hear Jay’s Uber leaving, and everything starts to collapse.

This was a mistake. I just ruined the best thing that ever happened to me. It’s too late. He hates me. I should have just left a note and Jumped off the congress avenue bridge.

I can’t breathe.

I hear a soft knock at my door, and hear it creak open. Ted sits down in front of me, placing my hand on his chest. We work on breathing exercises that he taught me years ago. When I finally feel slightly normal, he pulls me into a tight hug.

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann @jnkvivi @stasiesturn

@h3arts4harry @slutforsturniolos @memento-rory

[god-has-entered-my-body]

I'll take it one day at a time - M.H x Reader // pt.7

A/N: this took a while to write soz my loves TW: hard drugs especially in this one, please take care of yourself! Also very NSFW minors do not interact. I had a fun time writing it and an even better time listening to @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff (absolute cunt) tell me i'm evil❤️ Enjoy yourself my loves!!

wc: 5k

part eight

It hurts 

Everything hurts. This impossible pain that was eating you alive from the inside out. You missed him, it was like a part of you had been ripped out of you. Since the day you met you hadn't spent more than two or three days apart, and even that was by force of either his parents or yours.

You kept replaying that day in your mind. The way he had looked at you, his eyes wide and teary, begging you to let him explain. Maybe you should have stayed, made him tell you exactly what had happened. What made it all worse was that Ruby was a part of all this. She had given it to him in the first place, the thought made your stomach churn.

The past few days had been spent laying in your bed, curled up in a ball under dirty covers. He had lied to you. The lights were dim, barely illuminating the numerous piles of plates that littered the surfaces in your room. Your mother had tried multiple times to get you out of bed, but you just ignored her, not being able to find the strength. 

Hann had come over, meeting your mother in the process. She had directed him to your room, saying something about your boyfriend leaving you. Completely false, since you hadn't said anything to her. She liked to assume things, taking on whatever narrative helped her feel better.

The door creaked open, light flooding the otherwise dark room. 

His hand brushed against your arm as he sat down at the foot of your bed, his eyes filled with worry. You didn't speak at first, refusing to make eye contact. It hurt too much. 

“Darling, where is Matty?” The pet name made your heart wrench, reminding you of him. The pit in your stomach just dug itself deeper, and it felt like a thousand knives were stabbing into you always. 

You shrug your shoulders, honestly not knowing where he was. Matty had called and called, texting you hundreds of times begging you to talk to him. By the second day, you had already switched off your phone, chucking into a corner, forgotten. 

“No one knows where he is, George is having a proper meltdown.” he continues, his voice slightly shaky, the anxiety in it evident. He tells you how they had tried his house, and it turning up empty. Mattys parents were away, and nobody knew how to get ahold of them. 

“Adam.” was all you could muster, not having spoken in days. The creak of the bed is deafening as you turn around to face him, looking up. “He..” your voice cracks, tears welling up in your eyes. 

“...he did something. Heroin.” you manage to finish your sentence before breaking out into tears again, clutching his arm. “He promised he wouldnt do it again.” the sound of Mattys voice filled your mind, broken promises and lies.

“I believed him.” you force out, your eyes pleading with Hann to say something. 

“Jesus Christ, are you serious?” The question is rhetorical. He knows. 

The day is spent with Adam comforting you through crying fits and feelings of blame, even bringing you water and food. 

You ask for a spliff, that being the only thing you knew would calm your nerves. Not having done anything else since your fight with Matty, you were starting to feel small symptoms of withdrawal. Cold sweat, dizziness, you had even thrown up once or twice into the bin next to your desk.

Hann, like the angel he is, pulls out a baggie of weed, rolling you a spliff. You ask him to open the window to let the smoke out, not quite in the mood for a hotbox. He obliges, and the warm air that is let into the room feels nice. The light helps too, letting you see the absolute state your room was in. 

The haze of the weed calms you down, your crying down to only silent tears rolling down your face as Adam tries to speak to you. You don't listen, his voice sounds distorted and far away. At some point, he gets up to leave, telling you to switch on your phone. When you don't react, he searches for it, finding it underneath a pile of clothes. Turning it on, he sets it onto the nightstand, pressing a comforting kiss to your forehead as the door closes behind him.

You were alone. 

With the spliff almost down to the filter, you chuck it into the rubbish, noticing Adam had cleared the vomit from it. It dwindles out, burning a small whole into the plastic of the fresh bin bag. Staring at the wall for what felt like an eternity, you hear your phone start to ring. 

You think it's Adam calling, making sure you were eating the sandwich he had made you, so you pick up, not bothering to look at the ID. The receiver picks up only silence for the first few seconds of the call, then heavy breaths fill your ears. Matty. 

Your heart jumps at the sound of him breathing on the other end of the line, dread filling you instantly. Something was wrong, you could feel it.

“I-'' he cuts himself off, a laboured groan leaving his lips. “I don't..” 

Something starts in you, and you jump to your feet. Eyes darting around the room to locate your keys, you tug your shoes on while holding the phone between your ear and shoulder. 

“Where are you?” you say, trying to remain calm. “Matty, where the fuck are you.” you repeat, your voice sounding more urgent. 

His answer is barely audible, but you understand. 

“I'm at Carolines..- please- I can't..” the line goes dead, the dial tone as loud as sirens in your head. 

You push past your mother, ignoring her requests to know where you're going. This wasn't the time, you had to get to him, now. 

You were never particularly athletic, always opting to cut P.E in favour of smoking a spliff behind the bushes with one George or Matty. Breathing heavily, you sprint down the street towards the old paper factory, dodging cars and people like it was an olympic sport.

Out of breath and sweaty, the last bolt up the flight of stairs leading to the terrace was difficult, your legs almost giving out on you multiple times. The door to the platform was already open when you finally made it to the top. 

Your heart stops when you see curls peeking out from the side of the sofa, falling limply over the material of the armrest. A soft groan echoes through the air, pained and tired. 

The sight of him will be burned into your mind until the day you die. Matty is half laying half sitting on the cushions, an old pillow holding him up, his skin deathly pale, even more so than usual. Tears run down his face, track marks littering the inside of his forearms. 

“I’m- i’m s-so sorry, I didn't-” his words are weak, still coming from a very bad high. You start to take care of him, just like you did in that bathroom all those weeks ago. The needle is still in his arm, dirty and used, he winces when you pull it out, chucking it off of the balcony. 

“We need to- you need help, Matty, I'm serious.” His eyes widen at your statement, his free hand reaching up to grab you. “P-please, don't call anyone.” he starts, visibly shaking. “I dont- i just want you.. no one else.” he’s scared. You've never seen him scared before, the fear visible on his face. 

“Just hold still, let me-” You have no experience in cleaning wounds of any kind, but you try your best, finding a pack of tissues in your bag, wiping down his arm. 

His hands are still shaking, and they feel cold to the touch. It breaks your heart to see him like this, scared and cold, not knowing what to do. 

“Please don't tell anyone.'' He forces the words out of his mouth, making eye contact with you. 

“I won't. But this is the last time.” you answer, stroking his upper arm comfortingly. He looks wrecked, dark circles under his eyes, hair obviously unwashed. He was wearing the same clothes he was when you last saw him

“Do you have anything else on you?” you ask, holding out your hand. You weren't letting him do this again. Never again. 

He nods, taking a kit out of his pocket. Inside, another needle, a spoon, and a small baggie. Taking it out of his hands, you walk over to the edge of the terrace, shaking the sandy coloured substance out onto the street, letting it fly into the wind to disappear. 

The needle was broken in two, also thrown over the edge of the terrace. Gone 

Matty let out soft groans as he moved to properly lay down, asking you to sit with him. You do, lowering yourself onto the ground next to the sofa, your hand reaching up to stroke his face. His tears still stream down his face, and you wipe them away, smiling at him. 

“I'm moving in with you.”

“I missed you.”

Both of you spoke at the same time, your voices overlapping. He raises his eyebrows at you, words forming in his mouth before dying. 

“Okay.” he nods, accepting your decision. 

“I’ve told Hann. We’re getting you clean, I don't care if you want to or not.” 

“Okay.” 

Silence 

“I love you.” the words slip out of your mouth, hitting him just as hard as they did you. He squeezes your hand, leaning down for a kiss. He doesn't say it back. The two of you sit there, staring into each other's eyes. Mattys breathing becomes more regular, and so do his pupils. 

“Don't do that ever again, please.” your voice is small, audibly shaking. 

“I won't.” a wave of deja vu washes over you

He won't. 

What are we?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Fuck you are! You're not going anywhere” your mothers shrill voice pierces your ears, and you shake your head. Packing your things, you walked around grabbing the remaining clothes out of your wardrobe, stuffing them into a suitcase. 

Your mother had tried to stop you, but she couldn't. Having turned 18 a while ago, you were free to go wherever you pleased. Mattys house was already filled with a bunch of your stuff, and you had been sleeping over there more often than in your own bed. What was the difference?

“If you leave now, you're not my daughter anymore.” she said quietly, almost expectantly. 

You roll your eyes.

“Never really was, was I?” that was all you needed to say. All you've been wanting to say for years. Her eyes widen, and you turn around as the hurt spreads onto her face. 

The door shuts with a loud bang, the sound echoing through the neighbourhood. 

—-------------------------------------------------------

The days dragged by as Matty became more and more restless, making it entirely your problem. No amount of weed could calm him down, jittery and shaking. The itch was there for you as well, albeit not as strong as Mattys, who was close to crying by the looks of it. 

But he had promised you, and was intending to keep said promise even if it was extremely uncomfortable, the headache that was spread throughout his head wasn't helping either.

The two of you had spent the day in each other's arms, a blanket draped over you. The TV was quiet, the lights flickering over Mattys face softly as he pulled your lips into a firm kiss. 

‘What are we?’

You push the thought out of your head, letting yourself be kissed. His hand drew small circles onto the side of your arm, ever so often stopping to lightly pinch at the skin, making you jump. You felt his smile against your lips, the feeling only comparable to some sort of divinity. It was soft moments like these that made you forget everything else. The fighting, the drugs, the others.

You had called Hann, letting him know that you and Matty needed space. Withholding most details, like the state you had found him in, you assure him of Mattys wellbeing, stating “He’s going through it, but I've got it under control. Denise doesn't know, and don't tell her when she comes back.” His mother was set to make a return sometime in the next couple months, you overheard her tell Matty on the phone.  

The kiss deepens, with Matty attempting to slip his tongue into your mouth, and you let him. Since this started happening, it had always been you that had control of the situation, not letting him even get a taste of power before pushing him down, telling him to “Be good for me, yeah? I'll give you what you want, just…” 

His hand threads itself in your hair, and you gasp at the slight tug he gives it. The look in his eye when you finally glance up makes your breath hitch. Pupils completely blown out, he looks at you with an expression that can only be described as pure lust.

He pulls away for a split second, his eyes asking you a silent question. You nod.

Immediately, his hands are occupied with pushing your shirt up, hands palming your tits, and you feel rough calluses against your skin, making you moan. It seems like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room when he pressed a searing hot kiss onto your ribs, slowly working his way to run his tongue across your peaked nipple, making your back arch back into him. 

He lets out a low, almost animalistic groan as you grind against him, your hips rolling onto his steadily growing erection. A flicker of pride flashed through you at the thought of you being the reason he was worked up after a few kisses and a look. You smile, raking a hand through his hair as he kisses down your stomach, quickly stopping him before he could go and lower. 

“Can we switch?” you ask, batting your eyelashes, a faux innocent expression. He nods vigorously, letting you climb on top of him. 

The look he gave you when you started to grind down onto him is priceless, wide eyes and parted lips staring back at you. You kiss down his neck, leaving aggressive hickeys in your wake, marking him up. He adjusts underneath you, and you reach a hand up to his chest, raking your hand over the expanse of it. The nipple piercing catches your eye, the black metal almost shimmering in the light. 

“O-oh my go- fuckk-” his moans fill the air when you tug on it, a sharp pain reverberating through his body, and you feel him twitch against your leg. Your teeth find the piercing, biting down and pulling again, drinking in the noises he makes in response. Hands find his sides, thumbing at his ribs, trying to distract from the pain coming from his chest. 

“You want me?” you ask, smugly, seeing his expression rapidly change. He looks blissed out, and you haven't even properly touched him yet. The next words to come out of your mouth make his breath hitch and his hips buck upwards in desperation. 

“Want me to suck you off? I promise I'm good.” you mock his words, grinning at him in the same manner he did. The sight of you perched on top of him and your question almost made him cum in his pants, again. 

“P-please, i promise i won't touch- just.. please” his voice cracks as he says the last word, morphing into a drawn out moan, the sound going straight to your core. 

“But- i want you to get off first.” he never ceases to surprise you, his statement making you perk up, raising an eyebrow at him. “You can, you know..” he vaguely gestures at his thigh, eyes avoiding yours. A laugh escapes you when you realise what he meant, an extremely unsexy snort leaving your lips. 

“You want me to.. Seriously? Grind on your thigh?” he cringes at the way you say it, flexing his legs under you. “Well, yeah, you're pretty and I like to.. watch you?” he sounds unsure, like you're about to laugh at him again. The compliment takes you by surprise, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You don't speak anymore, instead sitting up straight, towering over him. Mattys breathing becomes even more irregular than it already was, his chest rising and falling up and down rapidly. “Okay, i'll do it.'' Your voice is breathless and small, but his reaction is thankful, hands finding your hips comfortingly.

Your fingers toy with the hem of Mattys shirt, which was now pulled back down. He nods, giving you permission to take it off of him, softly moaning as it brushes against his nipple, still sensitive and raw from your previous attack on his chest. 

Your lack of pants in the first place helped you settle onto his thigh comfortably, the shirt you had on covering most of you. You could feel his gaze on you, watching your every move. An experimental grind onto his jean-clad thigh made a spark of pleasure lick up your spine, a soft moan leaving your lips as you make eye contact with Matty. He urges you on, hands creeping up to cup your tits again, softer this time. 

You grind down harder, feeling a dull pleasure spread throughout your body. Matty lets out a quiet groan at the sight of you using him to get off, getting even harder than he thought possible. Speeding up, you settle into a distinct rhythm, your hips ever so slightly guided by Mattys hands resting on them. 

“You look so pretty like this.”

He sounds genuine, his eyes raking over your body with a look of adoration. You smile, letting out a moan as he tensed his thigh slightly, upping the pressure against your clit. Lowering down to catch his lips in a desperate kiss, you can feel yourself get closer to the edge, Mattys tongue licking into your mouth only spurring you on. 

“Fuck- Matty.” you look down, seeing Mattys eyes still on you makes something ignite within you, the rubber band in your core tightening even more. His hands play with your nipples, thumbing at the skin, leaving light kisses on the back of your hand. His expression is sickly sweet, almost cocky. You cup his face, kissing him roughly as you feel yourself throttling towards your orgasm. 

A hand finds his cock, firmly palming him through his jeans, making him groan into your mouth. You can feel a wet patch forming on the front of his pants, soaking them with precum. A particularly pathetic moan and skilled twist of your nipple from Matty makes you fall apart on his thigh, legs shaking as you grind your way through your climax. 

Your breathing is heavy when you finally start to come down from your high, Matty jumpy and twitchy underneath you, watching you collect yourself. There's a wet patch on the front of his jeans where you had just been, perfectly matching the one he had caused all by himself. 

“Is this all f’me?” you ask, your hand stroking him through the material of his pants, watching him clench his fists at his side. You bat your eyelashes at him again, and he lets out a short string of please’s and begging. The sight in front of you is absolutely delicious, Matty panting and squirming, his curls sticking to his forehead.

“Relax for me baby, let me take care of you.” you coo, watching his reactions closely. He throws his head back, hitting the pillows as he lets out another loud groan. Your hand moves to the zipper of his jeans, slowly unbuttoning them. The tent in his boxers is obvious, his cock straining against the thin material.

Your nails graze his thigh, digging into the skin. You knew he liked a bit of pain to his pleasure, and you were going to give him just that. 

His hand finds your hair as you pull down his boxers, letting his erection spring out. Precum dribbled down the side, coating his cock in a layer of shine. Your hand wraps around him, giving him a light squeeze. The moan he lets out is heavenly, and you stroke up and down the length of him, thumbing his slit. He shudders, his hand tightening in your hair. 

“Please- do something.” you listen to him, reaching down to drag your tongue up the underside of his cock. Sputtering and moaning, he mutters out “T-thank you, fuck, thats so good.” 

You do the same again, taking him into your mouth. He feels heavy on your tongue, precum spilling out of the tip. 

“I’m not gonna last- i’m sorry I-” you cut him off with a graze of your teeth along the inside of his thigh. His thighs tense as your hand grasps the base of his cock, stroking what your mouth can't take. You bob your head, groans of pleasure leaving his lips as he bucks up into your mouth. He tries to apologise, and you tell him you’ll stop if he does that again. 

Nodding, he watches as your hand tugs at him, your bright nails a stark contrast to the leaking head of his cock. The sight is erotic, the way your red-rimmed mouth moves up and down his length, taking him deeper each time.

“I can’t- i’m going to-” he tries to pull you off of him, but you resist, instead speeding up your movements, desperately trying to bring him to the edge. Your eyes are watering and you can feel spit dripping down the side of your chin, but that didn't matter to you. You needed to feel Matty come undone in your mouth, and you were so close.

He whined, bucking up into your mouth, biting back yet another apology. 

“F-fuck-” is your only warning before he spills into yor mouth, hot ropes of cum painting the back of your throat. His hand never left your hair, gripping onto it for dear life as you worked him through his orgasm. 

Sticking out your tongue to show off what he had done, Matty screws his eyes shut at the sight, a groan leaving his parted lips. You swallow.

“That was.. So fucking good.” you giggle at the praise, crawling up to kiss him deeply. He can taste himself on your tongue, moaning softly into the kiss. You reach down to play with the piercing on his chest. The sounds he made were too heavenly to make you stop. 

The hickeys you had sucked into the skin of his neck and chest made you gawk at him, admiring your work. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” he smirks at you, cocky. You take out the camera you kept in your bag, which was conveniently sitting on the glass table adjacent to the sofa. Angling the camera so you could capture everything, the flash goes off three separate times. It blinds him the first time, making his eyes shut at the light. 

The second picture is better, with Matty looking at you instead of the camera, a provocative grin spread onto his face. He was always a sucker for attention, absolutely relishing in it. The picture perfectly caught the deep purple of the marks you had left on him, contrasting his pale skin perfectly. 

The third picture though, was your favourite. Your hand had made its way to his nipple, pulling at the piercing right before snapping the photo. His face contorted in a mix of pain and pleasure, mouth slightly open with his eyes almost fully closed. He sure was a sight for sore eyes, the expression igniting a fire in you. 

Leaning down to kiss him, you chuck the camera somewhere behind you, hearing it hit cushions on the other end of the sofa. The moment was soft, tender, like a fond memory. 

One thing ruined it all. A nagging feeling at the back of your mind you just couldn't calm.

"What are we?" 

—-------------------------------------------------------

It had taken days of convincing to get Matty to go with you. Ross and Adam had invited you to dinner, and George was also going to be there. He was reluctant to go, not wanting to face any of them. After hours of pleading and a makeout session, you stood by the door and watched as he put his shoes on. 

 You both walked hand in hand down the street, taking a shortcut through an old junkyard. Hann was probably just as nervous as Matty was to see him again, and you told him as much. Matty just shrugged, eyes glued to the ground in front of him. 

The ring of the doorbell as you pressed it made him finally look up. Ross answered, eyes softening and he saw you both. He pulled you in for a hug, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Matty was twitchy and frankly, scared, to see everyone again. The way he had acted made him cringe inwardly. 

“Hey Matty.” Ross spoke as he pulled him in for one of his big man hugs. Matty hugged him back, finally smiling. It was okay, everything was going to be okay. 

The conversation had been hard at first, with Hann going on his ‘drugs are bad for you’ rant again. Matty sat and listened, and so did you, squeezing his hand under the table when Adam finally finished, getting up to put on the kettle.

George was sitting on the couch, eyeing you as you went to plop next to him. Everything seemed normal, except for Hann’s incessant rambling and checking if everything was alright, which was pretty regular now that you really thought about it. 

The night was spent laughing and watching Pulp Fiction on the telly. It felt like old times, before everything had gone to shit. You smile fondly at the memories of Matty and Ross almost killing each other over trivial games of FIFA, clawing at each other until Hann finally pulled them apart. 

You watch the others, absolutely engrossed in the movie, with soft munching coming from the direction of Ross and his bag of prawn cocktail crisps. He had an obsession with the flavour, reluctant to try anything else. George had even offered him a tenner to swap with him his cheese flavoured ones, and he flat out refused. 

The night was calm, with you leaning against Mattys chest for the majority of the movie. You felt his breathing and heartbeat in his chest, it calmed you. Everything felt alright, and you could feel your eyes droop closed. The last thing you remember was Mattys hand stroking your hip lightly as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, breathing in the scent of his cologne.   

[gardensgatekeeper]

Bedhead

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 846

Warnings: Graphic sexual content, fingering, swearing, penetrative sex, dirty talk. Really just all the things.

Tbh forgot I wrote this and now I'm having terrible Jake thoughts. Enjoy ;)

When you got the call that you had been booked as the official hairstylist for Greta Van Fleet on their upcoming tour, you thought you were dreaming, ready to wake up and resume life as normal at any moment. You had been a fan of their music for a couple of years and were a little nervous to meet them the first time, but all of them were so kind and welcoming. Fast forward a few weeks and you’re truly having the time of your life. Though you would say you’ve grown close with all of the guys from the time they’ve spent in your chair, you and Jake ended up becoming the closest, as his wild and unruly hair has earned him much more time in your care. Though your relationship has been mostly platonic, you couldn’t ignore his occasional wandering glances or the way his hand sometimes brushed a little too close to your hips when you spin the chair to set him free.

Or tonight, when you accidentally tripped on the hair dryer cord and fell right over in his lap. “Fuck I’m sorry.” You rushed, trying to quickly get out of his personal space. He let out a silent grunt and only then did you realize where your hands were. Your face had to be red as a tomato as you stared at him in total embarrassment. “Shit Jake I-“ You began. “S’okay sweetheart, just give me a minute will ya?” He softly requested, closing his eyes. You nodded, though realizing he couldn’t see your response with eyes closed. Since he was pretty much done, you decided to clean up your station a bit to save yourself a few minutes after the show. As you were wrapping the cord around a flat iron, you felt two hands grab your hips, a gasp leaving your lips. There, behind you, Jake stood, staring at your reflection in the mirror you stood in front of. “Darling, I thought I would be able to handle this little situation, but that’s proving to be a challenge when I know you’re right here looking like a sight for sore eyes.” His hot breath whispered against your neck. “Jake.” was all you could manage to get out. “Tell me to stop at any time and I will. You’re in complete control, but right now I want nothing more than to bend you over this counter and take you completely.” He slowly traced his hand from your neck, ghosting over your nipple, before resting at the top of the waistband of your leggings. Instead of words, all you could do in response was let out a heavy sigh “And I think you want that too, huh?” “Fuck Jake. Yeah, yeah I want it. Please don’t stop.” You were ashamed at how quickly you gave yourself up to his mercy. Not wasting any time, especially since call time was in 15 minutes, his hands made their way to your core that was already slick with desire. “All of this, just for me?” Though your eyes were closed, you could sense the smirk in his tone, but you didn’t care. You grabbed his hand and pushed him closer, needing some sort of relief. “Just be patient, I'll get you there doll.” You whimpered as his fingers went to work, curling in you, finding the one spot that made your knees buckle. He chuckled at the effect he had on you, continuing for a few more minutes until you felt the warm feeling building in your core. You latched onto his arm, “Jake I’m gonna-“ But just as you thought you were about to find release, he removed his fingers, making you gasp from the empty feeling. He moved at lightning speed to remove your leggings and bend you over the counter before you felt his hard cock teasing your entrance. “Please jake, stop teasi-“ You couldn’t even finish your sentence as he rammed into you with no warning, a yelp coming from your lips. “Gonna need you to keep quiet so nobody hears, think you can do that for me?” He leaned down, whispering in your ear. “Yeah, yeah” You breathed out in between his unforgiving thrusts. Soon enough, you were beginning to see white spots again as your release was approaching. “Are you almost there? I can feel you clenching around my cock. Feels so heavenly." His words went straight to your core and you had to bite your lip to keep yourself from screaming out for the whole venue to hear. He spilled into you soon after as the two of you paused to collect yourselves. “God that was-“ you breathed out. “Yeah” He chuckled, slowly pulling out and re-adjusting himself. As you did the same, you let out a frustrated sigh as his hair was a complete tangled mess yet again. He chuckled at your demeanor, “Does that mean I have to get back in the chair again?” He grinned. “Jake, you’re gonna be the death of me.” You said with your hands on your hips. “Touché darling.”

[c0smoshit]

Do you want me or do you not?

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ≫ Cloud Strife/Reader

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕝𝕠𝕥 ≫ Cloud saw a letter with his name written on it, inside your diary

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ angst!, reader not being present, guilt, not proofread!!

⋆ ࣪. 𝔸/ℕ ≫ I'm back again!! I don't like this drabble really much but I've spent sm time writing it that I thought I'd post it lol. Sorry if it's a bit shitty 🤧

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 ≫ 1718

"Do you want me or do you not?"

His hands held the once hated paper as if it was worth millions of gils.

Cold fairies travelled up his spine, reminding him of the future he will never have with you.

A part of him was still attached to the past, a great part. That was his way to cope with everything that had happened in his life, swimming in a deep, deep pool of sorrow and unreached dreams.

Maybe he shouldn't have taken that path a long time ago.

Maybe he shouldn't have fallen deeply from your silk hands, following people he knew didn't speak to him like you did.

Or maybe his destiny was to end up like this, alone again.

His steps were curiously more careful, his inner voice telling him ( shouting at him ) that he should've been more careful.

But who could really blame him?

. . .

"Hey there"

Sometimes you would greet him with a smile, which he didn't return. Or some whispered out "hi", but this wasn't your usual greeting.

Your arms enveloped him for an instant, your cheek against his chest as you pressed further into him.

He could smell you and he liked it, he always liked clean ambiences. Something weird as he constantly had to smell Midgar's dirty air, but he didn't mind smelling sweet, fruity shampoos.

You parted from him as his hands stayed still against his sides, afraid of moving them too much.

As soon as he sat on a stool in the bar, you had a drink already waiting for him.

And he hated it.

He knew that he was being such a dick, but his mind couldn't help but feel somewhat uncomfortable by your warm and so pleasant touches.

He wanted to be happy just for once, god you were giving him his favourite drink!

But weighs and weighs of stress and unsolved problems occupied more volume than his own welfare.

"Do you not like it?"

His gaze then looked at your confused eyes.

"I'm sorry I thought you did, I can always ch-"

"It's alright"

That's it?

You got nothing more to say than that?

His eyes looked at your ... he wasn't going to lie, he really did not know how to read the emotions you had hiding between those gorgerous orbs.

And he wished he did

So as your hands quickly retrieved themselves from changing the liquid, you were back to the chores Tifa probably told you to please do.

He wanted to go, not because you were there but because he was suddenly so nervous he needed "fresh" air.

So that's what he did, not before muttering a low "thanks" and wishing you a good night before stepping outside the bar once again.

He surely didn't want to go home, he didn't want the sun to come up, but on top of all of those wishes, he didn't know what he wanted to truly do.

So his feet, followed by a loud metallic "clank!" that quieted down the louder rumble of the city, dragged him through alleys.

His eyes looked everywhere, dimly lighted appartaments, people that were still returning home from work.

Would they visit their kids?

Their cats? Dogs?

Their partnerts?

He wouldn't wish anyone to be him.

And he ceirtanly day-dreamed about becoming some stranger on the streets.

He often recieved comments from some boys about how handsome he was, that he surely had a long pile of women on his palm.

But was it really worth it?

He didn't need women to love him, he didn't need nobody to love him.

Nobody but someone to hold at night, someone to lull him back to sleep after a rough night.

( he needed you )

. . .

And yet he was here, waiting for you to walk back into your room as he stared into the blank wall.

He remembers the day he moved in next door to you in Midgar, both of your rooms were so different you made him self-concious about his own decisions of decoration.

The way you would lit up the darkness of his empty room the moment you placed your feet inside of it.

But now they all remained just as memories

Memories that soon would dissapear into the void of his enigmatic mind.

He knew there was going to be a time that his brain, naturally, would forget how your face looked like.

How your voice sounded like.

The warmth of your shy touches against his skin.

And he didn't want that time to come, not ever.

But he was far, far away from where it all had started. The nostalgia of your steps as you guided him through Midgar, Nibelheim ( although he knew it like the back of his hand ) Gold saucer. . .

And finally, your room

Which was the place he was standing on right now, trying to read a note you wrote who knows when.

He knows he shouldn't be doing this, rumaging through your personal belongings. But once he had opened your diary and saw his name written on it, he had to take a look.

. . .

" He feels like a ray of sun after a storm, warm and welcoming you back to the sweet and beautiful world you once knew "

" Today I walked with him all through sector 5, he was so cute waiting for me while I asked him which clothes he liked most "

" I don't want to lose him ever again, not after what happened today "

" Maybe he likes Aerith, I see the way his eyes linger on her smile for quite a while "

" Maybe I'm being annoying but I don't get why he doesn't want me to take him home! We live right next to eachother >:( "

" Yesterday I laughed a lot when Tifa called him an angry chocobo, he sure looks like one of those big birds "

" I wonder what he thinks of me. .

. . .

And then he saw it, a ruffled up small paper smashed against the last two pages of the little book. But when he grabbed it, he wished he didn't.

At first he found it quite hard to read as he got used to how you would normally write, but it was clear that you were upset in this one.

There were also some harsh drawn lines on top of your words, a mess of your thoughts and anger. All of the slurred out words came to the same conclusion.

Did he want you or did he not?!?

It is all so confusing, first he speaks to me kindly, he even cracks a few jokes! But then he comes back to this... cold and closed personality. Maybe I'm being dumb about this, maybe he just sees me as a friend just like he would with Barret or Tifa. Well, Tifa... Why am I being jealous of her? I don't want to feel like this, she has all the rights to be close to him. Hell, she was her bestfriend ever since they were little kids. But then again, why does he speak to me like he isn't interested in me??

Why does he talk to me like that if so?

He turned his eyes out of those last words, now understanding why you acted like that whenever he was around you.

Why you were gone now.

The first feeling that flooded his entire organism was guilt, that familiar clench inside his lower stomach. Then he went over 10 different ways he could have had you with him right now.

And they all ended up talking

Just that simple, right?

But the way his mind would automatically go blank whenever you spoke to him about something serious, the innability to express his real feelings without letting out lies instead.

And to add up to how deeply dumb he felt, it was a surprise for him to have just discovered that you actually felt the same for him ever since.

. . .

Going inside a cave wasn't really a good idea thanks to all the cons it has, confusing as a maze, bad lighting and of course, how cold they usually are.

So he wasn't really surprised that after the group had divided itself, you all ended up kind of lost. Next to Barret, he tried to stay calm as he tried to search Tifa, Red and, of course, you.

"Where the hell are we?"

Barret's loud voice echoed through the hard walls, making Cloud flinch as he tried to guide themselves into the exit.

After walking for quite a while, he found a strange section inside the cave that was way colder than the other ones. And when he was about to step into the other section next to it, he heard you.

But he didn't hear the chatting he had thought he would have listened, instead he heard a loud gasp, followed by some shoes ruffling.

And by the time his eyes were searching for you, he looked up to see you almost crushing him down into the ground. But of course, he was fast enough to catch you.

A blur of voices surrounded his mind, but the only thing that it was paying attetion to was the way your cool body fit in between his arms.

Your arms curled up against his chest as your mouth moved, probably surprised to had fallen into his arms instead of hard rocks.

. . .

He never will forget how you felt on his arms.

Reminiscing about past events had became his usual routine whenever he thought about you, he couldn't do anything more either way.

But it was pointless now, no matter how hard he tried to imagine yourself again, you weren't there.

And it was now when he finally had figured out why his words seemed not to seep out of his mouth as smoothly as usual with you.

Right after the group had started to live normal lifes again after the meteor, you were gone, far away from his reach. Or maybe you were right beside him, who knows.

He often wondered if you still dreamt about what happened in Midgar, Nibelheim, Junon...

He needed to find you.

But where shall he start?

[zelcii]

sixteen | gally x reader

tmr.

fluffy angst for the soul. im bawling my eyes out and cannot be aesthetic rn because im stuck on page 255 of the death cure and i cannot for the life of me read on. oh my days, james dashner. why?

sum; your from group b and you meet gally at the bonfire in the safe haven, but he already knows you. god forbid newt is there though omfg.

cw; swearing, fluff, romance, lgbt themes, unresolved trauma from bein munies, character death.

a/n; all lowercase and not proofread because i cannot anymore holy motherfucking shit. also i would die for will poulter in the newtmas gut wrenching cus like yesssss!! please, will, PLEASEEEE

i want to love a boy, the way i loved the ocean...

homosexual angst, heterosexual comfort.

in your opinion, the safe haven was simply too good to be true. it was a sight to see children your age and younger strolling around without a care in the world. it was surreal. they played games, chased each other around the tall grass, and carried themselves with a certain carefree joy that you absoluetly envied.

you felt so out walking around sulking with your hair down and your clothes wrinkled and bedridden. you looked like a mess and you knew it because you refused to leave your tent for two days, fearing that once you stepped outside that maybe this was all just another test. a trick of the mind.

a trick of the mind that you'd grown used to in the wicked labs. the worst of it came from the sensations you'd feel on your legs and arms after sitting around for too long. pins and needles. if you held on long enough, your skin would eventually mimic the experience of the dozens of pins and pricks your limbs had to undergo. you could vividly see the tubes coming out of you, draining the very essence of your life away and replacing it with biochemical that didn't look, feel, or act natural. you remember being halfway full of the "fake blood." you could remember the feeling of barely being human.

at night, if you closed your eyes hard enough, you could still feel the bright, warm rays of the springs' artificially designed and wicked-engineered daylight on your skin. it would feel so real in your mind that you'd nearly have a panic attack, believeing that you had never escaped in the first place.

you'd spent your whole life (or at least the parts you remembered) in that cruel "life" simulation they called the maze trials. so long that you'd been conditioned to think that that was what home felt like. but no munie has ever felt truely at home before, so what gave vince the right to think that this place could be any different?

for the first time ever, you came out of your tent, looking around you as community unfurled before you. and although you wanted to tell yourself that you were safe, and that you were real, you couldn't help but call bullshit.

not long ago, your group had outsmarted your maze trials and joined the right arm. that was the first time you had truely seen hope after being sent up the lift and thrown into the sadistic evil wicked called "an expirement for good."

unfourtunately, it wasn't much longer then that you would realise that the hope that you had been given was futile and false.

because as soon as you did something nice for the others, you were thrown back into wicked's custody. the good die young and poor afterall. you were transported around the country, often with the tired asian boy you never learned the name of, but he was part of the group the right arm "saved." though you suppose nobody is ever safe anymore.

the scientists there subjected you to what felt like hundreds of graphic simulations. they forced you to watch your loved ones die over and over again—people whose faces you couldn't recognize but somehow knew you should've. You saw them getting ripped apart by shades, their guts spilling on the floor. Falling perilously off the cliff and crumbling in front of you in a gruesome splat of red. you watched your friends get buried alive under the damp soils of the springs, you digging the holes with no controls to stop yourself from hurting harriet, sonya, ximena, rachel, aris, miyoko, beth—the names went on. through it all, your mind was always awake, fully aware of every horrifying detail. the images burning itself into your dreams, gifting you with restless nights.

though you suppose you should be grateful in the slightest. because you wholeheartedly believed that you would still be in that pain if it weren't for the rouge wicked soldier that carried you out of the facility and onto a bus full of the children you'd seen before im the hallways. regardless, suspicion bubbled within you. you found yourself asking when you would start killing everyone.

aris walked up to you, calling out your name as his way of announcing himself, careful not to startle you. him, harriet and sonya were your most frequent visitors, talking to you from the otherside of the thin tent walls. you begged them to stay outside, anticipating your "turn for the worst."

you walked together as he told you about the bonfire vince would be holding that afternoon. "just like the good old days" he said, though you disagreed. the last "good day" you had was before the springs, lost somewhere in the mist of all the things you couldn't remember.

"maybe meet someof the other people?" aris suggested, his question laced with the sterness of an order. "it'll do you some good." he said. doubt it.

as aris walked away, your gaze was drawn to a pair of blue eyes watching you from a distance. they belonged to a tall blond boy who observed with a curious, almost wistfulness swimming in his eyes before it melted into a sombre look. the shade of blue in his eyes bubbled up a sense of familiarity deep within you, and you didn't even realise you were holding your breath until you forced yourself to look away.

that night, after vince's inspirational speech to keep the colony in high hopes, you lingered at the back of the crowd. small cliques spread about with wide grins and loud laughter as they ate and danced around the fire. you felt a streak of envy as you watched the children easily forget as if they hadn't been poked and prodded just days prior. yet, you were also grateful that the younger ones didn't have to face the worst of it. it was a bittersweet sight—knowing they could find joy despite everything, even if for just a moment.

behind the bonfire and displayed before the beach was the large slate of rock vince had mentioned in his speech. a few kids were already at work, carving dozens of names into the stone—tributes to the people they'd lost. one of them stood out, towering over the others with a quiet intensity. he skillfully carved the name "maya" at the top of the sculpture, his hands steady and deliberate. he went over the name a couple names, digging the name deep into the rock so it popped out the most comared to the others until he finished and did the same for the name "chuck" under his first. the sounds of the chisel against stone mixed with the crackling of the fire and the gentle lapping of waves from afar overlapped. the atmosphere thickened as each name was etched into the monument.

you came up behind the boy, tapping him gentely on the shoulder and he seemed to lean into your touch. oddly enough, he didn't have to turn around to know that he'd find you with your arm outstretched, asking for the sculpting tools.

in surprise, you stood there looking at the tools he carefully handed over to you, those blue eyes never leaving the name he carved in first. it startled you how in sync you seemed to be with this total stranger, you couldn't help but stare at the way his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, how his eyes glazed over the longer he stared at the names, and how his shoulders were tensed every time you had seen him. as if he was carrying the weight of the world.

in contrast to the boy, you got on your knees before the large stone slate, taking your time with the curves of each letter. she felt unworthy of writing the name into the rock, having killed her over and over and over again in so many different simulations. but when you brought it up with harriet, she simply gave your shoulder a squeeze in attempt to reassure you before pulling you into a hug, whispering soft "i know,"s into your hair, your eyes watering.

you made sure to do it justice, chipping away at the stone with intention in each stroke, a furrow of your eyebrows over your tired eyes as you made no mistake with each hit of your mallet. you had noticed that although he was finished on his names, the boy still hovered behind her, watching the way she shifted her entire focus into permanently engraving the name into the sculpture. she paid no mind to anything other than the work in front of her and the sound sof the sea. "beth" you had written, standing up and backing away to admire your works.

it was then that you realised that the boy was never looking at the names. he was looking at you, putting a respectful hand on the small of your back as you walked backwards, before pulling away to cross his arms over his chest. usually, you would lash out, yell at whoever thought to have the audacity to even think to touch you. but something about the way his caloused hand sat warm against your skin felt so natural. like you were meant to feel his skin against yours. so you didn't yell because maybe you were in the wrong.

your eyes flickered between the names and the blond beside you, studying the way soft freckles spread across his face from the cold and how he kept his head held high, his jaw clenched. you knew he could feel you staring, but you couldn't help but wonder why he felt so familiar, and you had a feeling he didn't care much.

it didn't startle you when his eyes locked on to yours. you bit your lip, taking notice of the way your heart rate picked up as you watched the darkest bits of his eyes dilate as he set his eyes on you and you failed to hold back the giddy smile that crawled onto your lips. he felt pathetic, searching for the familiar flakes of gold that swam within your irises. he searched your eyes for your soul only to feel himself melt, falling for you. again. all while you studied him for what would be the first time for you. his heart ached.

"do i know you?" you asked under bated breath. the way his eyes smiled and his gaze softened when he looked at you nearly convinced you to fall for him. how innocently he looked at you, void of any judgment.

he shook his head no, smiling at you with his lips pursed. his eyes were laced with a sort of pain that bubbled up in the middle of his chest. no, you didn't know him. but he knew you. he'd state it, his voice was low and gruff, as if he had just woken up.

"and your so sure?" the blond hummed. "why is that?" you laughed, and he simply looked at you. he looked at you like you'd disappear if he looked away. he offered you his hand and you glanced down at it hesitantly. your eyes traced over his calluses, worn hands, each scar and scrape a story to share. and in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to hear them. and for the first time in days, you let yourself believe that everything was real, because you wanted him to be real.

you took his hand and let him lead you down to the beach, neither of you walking farther behind the other. just together.

the two of you sat there in the sand. he sat with his arm resting against a leg, his other outstretched and his other hand proped under him to cary his weight. it was a vain attempt to relax despite the tension in his muscles. you sat your knees up to your chest, hugging them close and resting your chin on your knees. a vain attempt to feel safe around him. because no matter how much you doubted the world around you, the legitimacy of the people you met, and the control you had over your own actions, you still wanted a place to go back to that you could call home, or rather a person. he told you his name was gally. then your heart pleaded with the universe to let home be the boy you'd only met today.

"maya..." he muttered, picking up a handful of sand and let it slip through his fingers. "she loved the ocean. because each time the water left the shore, she knew it would come back." he finished, looking at you once again. he searched for any tell-tale sign that his words felt familiar to you. they didnt. "she told me that."

he could recall the way you used to talk with your hands, a bounce in your step, and your eyes wide with wonder and love as you spoke to him. you wasted your love on him, but he had overlooked it. he had overlooked you, missing the way your smile would falter when he changed the subject or how you would stumble over your words, desperately wishing he would just listen to you.

"she's a smart girl," you hummed, your eyes trained on the crash of the waves and the flutter of seagulls as the passed by. "can i ask... what happened?"

gally let out a shaky breath, inhaling the salty scent of the sea. "she was in trouble," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid to hear his own words. he spoke slowly, each word heavy and dry in his mouth. "she was in trouble, and i ignored her."

he remembered how you ran to him in the middle of the hallway, begging him to help you run away. you told him how you overheard the scientists discussing sending you to the maze trials, how you panicked at the thought of losing your memories and everything you'd worked for being wiped away. your voice trembled with fear and desperation, but he ignored you.

you gently nodded, letting him know you were listening, though you kept your eyes closed, allowing the sounds and smells of the beach to envelop you. you'd never seen water run the way the waves swayed against the wind, their movements both soothing and relentless. the way the water crashed against the rocks and sand with such urgency, only to retreat and disappear, fleeting from the very reason it fought so hard to get to.

"i grew selfish and i lost nearly everything i loved because of it," he sighed, reverent. he hated how you looked at him like you'd never seen him before, but you haven't. that was his fault. he wanted to you to see what he saw, to show you his memories, to make you feel what he felt. "we were sixteen."

he looked at you, his eyes desprate as the blue drew you in. they taunted you, and it hurt how you noticed every similarity between his his eyes and beth's. the green bits that crowded his irises, and the blue that reminded you of the waves on the shore before you. but he silently begged for you to stop thinking about her.

"i should know you shouldn't i?" the thought burned your heart.

gally nodded, his head hung low as he pursed his lips. he had hoped when he saw you in the last city, that seeing him could trigger your memories and bring you back to him. but as he saw you above the hill across the safe haven, staring at him with nothing but curiosity, he knew he had truely lost you. it got worse when he watched you write beth's into the stone so delicately.

"beth," you started, her name bitter on your tongue. "we were together in the springs." you explained to him everything you knew about the maze. you told him about your life back when you were just a sprout, a new arrival. you had come up from the lift just a month before beth, but when you saw her, you already knew her. he listened intently, watch how you smiled when you told him about her and the blue of her eyes.

"she was stung because of me," you admitted, recalling the day you snuck her into the maze. "when she went through the shift... i couldn't bare to stand the yelling. the screaming. i couldn't face the fact that she was like that because of me." you fidgeted with your shoelaces, twisting the fabric between your fingers as you spoke. "i didn't talk to her after that. and the last time i saw her—when i was finally ready to be there—she was bleeding out on the floor."

"that's the thing about people, isn't it?" she muttered. "they leave at the worse times, then come back when you stop needing them."

you let a tear slip as the weight of your words exhoed between the both of you, ringing true for different reason. gally could remember the exact moments your pleas had sunk in, but by then, the last time he'd seen you was on the screens of the security room, running the maze and killing a griever. he could still remember the desperation in your tone, the thought finally sinking in that you reached out to him—only him—because you wanted him to care.

his eyes glazed over, recalling the way he treated people before and after the maze. he could remember all the yelling he did, all the pain he could've caused. the most vividly though, chuck laying on the floor of the wicked facility, his blood pooling under him. he remembered falling to his knees, the pain is his shoulder numb compared to the hatred his heart held for him. "i was a terrible person..." he confessed, his voice breaking.

your brows furrowed as you frowned. gally kept his head low, glaring daggers at his feet with an intensity. the anger in his soul was the only thing more powerful than the vicious regret that gnawed at him from the inside.

"maybe you weren't," you shrugged, and for a moment you paused. you gently took his hand in yours, your skin smooth against his as you took your time to intertwine your fingers together in a way that felt right to you, yet familiar to gally. he let you lay your head against his shoulder, the only weight that felt comfortable on his shoulders, and you let him wrap his arm around you waste, the only touch you truely believed to be genuine. "maybe you were just sixteen."

guys do u get it. cus her name wss maya. yes like maya hawke. and she loved him but he didnt. and he lost sky when her memories got wiped. so he wrote her name on the stone thing. and he loves her now but she doesnt. she loves beth. but beth is dead. but they have the same eyes. cus theyre equivalents. so. they bother get second chances. hypothetically. they can finally be there for each other. but. she only loves him now. because he reminds her of beth. so all we can do now i pray that maya can love the boy the way she loved the ocean. though the ocean could also be all three of them. maya on shore then gally off shore. gally on shore then maya off. then maya and beth on shore then maya off. then maya on and beth off. now both gally and maya on shore. the shore representing love.

omg guys im losing it.