#she lost her parents to get the money she has and i know which one she would rather have lmao

[leebrontide]

I think one thing we need to address in the US if we want to de-stigmatize multi-generational households that include ADULTS from multiple generations, is that parents need to learn how to have adult relationships with their offspring.

Should my daughter deign to live with me when she's an adult she will not be my some vassal that has to obey my household rules. She graduates into being a peer in setting and managing the boundaries, cleanliness and appearance of our home.

Too many parents want to have relationships with grown ass adults in which the parents maintain control and authority, and in which they leverage money and history to get their way from an adult who, very reasonably, wants to be able to make choices and have influence. And then those parents wonder why their kids keep their distance!

But then people act like I've lost it because I let my 5 year old pick the color of paint in her room- a room I seldom spend time in except to take care of her, and a room in which I want her to be comfortable and happy.

I'm not gonna let her choose a paint color for the kitchen right now, because she's capricious and bad at negotiating so we can pick a color we all like. But when she's an adult, if she's still living here? Why shouldn't she get to influence her environment?

People like to have agency. We limit the agency of children because they make choices without the full ability to understand the results (sorry baby, you are gonna get vaccinated for pollio even if you don't like it. You don't understand pollio).

But limiting an adults choices in their own home, just because you don't think that home should be a real home for them because it's just for you, is kind of an asshole move, to me.

No need to argue with me if you disagree. You can have your own opinion.

But I couldn't treat my kid that way, and I have seen enough to know that not every parent treats their adult children like permanently incompetent interlopers.

I didn't just buy this house for ME. I bought it for MY FAMILY. My baby is my family, and she will be no matter how old she gets.

[ketchuppee]

During the 2008 recession, my aunt lost her job. Her, her partner, and my three cousins moved across the country to stay with us while they got back on their feet. My house turned from a family of four to a family of nine overnight, complete with three dogs and five cats between us.

It took a few years for them to get a place of their own, but after a few rentals and apartments, they now own a split level ranch in a town nearby. I’ve lost track of how many coworkers and friends have stayed with them when they were in a tight spot. A mother and son getting out of an abusive relationship, a divorcee trying to stay local for his kids while they work out a custody agreement, you name it. My aunt and uncle knew first hand what that kindness meant, and always find space for someone who needed it, the way my parents had for them.

That same aunt and uncle visited me in [redacted] city last year. They are prolific drinkers, so we spent most of the day bar hopping. As we wandered the city, any time we passed a homeless person, my uncle would pull out a fresh cigarette and ask them if they had a light. Regardless of if they had a lighter on hand or not, he offered them a few bucks in exchange, which he explained to me after was because he felt it would be easier for them to accept in exchange for a service, no matter how small.

I work for a company that produces a lot of fabric waste. Every few weeks, I bring two big black trash bags full of discarded material over to a woman who works down the hall. She distributes them to local churches, quilting clubs, and teachers who can use them for crafts. She’s currently in the process of working with our building to set up a recycling program for the smaller pieces of fabric that are harder to find use for.

One of my best friends gives monthly donations to four or five local organizations. She’s fortunate enough to have a tech job that gives her a good salary, and she knows that a recurring donation is more valuable to a non-profit because they can rely on that money month after month, and can plan ways to stretch that dollar for maximum impact. One of those organizations is a native plant trust, and once she’s out of her apartment complex and in a home with a yard, she has plans to convert it into a haven of local flora.

My partner works for a company that is working to help regulate crypto and hold the current bad actors in the space accountable for their actions. We unfortunately live in a time where technology develops far too fast for bureaucracy to keep up with, but just because people use a technology for ill gain doesn’t mean the technology itself is bad. The blockchain is something that she finds fascinating and powerful, and she is using her degree and her expertise to turn it into a tool for good.

I knew someone who always had a bag of treats in their purse, on the odd chance they came across a stray cat or dog, they had something to offer them.

I follow artists who post about every local election they know of, because they know their platform gives them more reach than the average person, and that they can leverage that platform to encourage people to vote in elections that get less attention, but in many ways have more impact on the direction our country is going to go.

All of this to say, there’s more than one way to do good in the world. Social media leads us to believe that the loudest, the most vocal, the most prolific poster is the most virtuous, but they are only a piece of the puzzle. (And if virtue for virtues sake is your end goal, you’ve already lost, but that’s a different post). Community is built of people leveraging their privileges to help those without them. We need people doing all of those things and more, because no individual can or should do all of it. You would be stretched too thin, your efforts valiant, but less effective in your ambition.

None of this is to encourage inaction. Identify your unique strengths, skills, and privileges, and put them to use. Determine what causes are important to you, and commit to doing what you can to help them. Collective action is how change is made, but don’t forget that we need diversity in actions taken.

[deadsetobsessions]

Can try a fic on: Dick adopting danny? Danny runs away from amity park his parents found out he is phantom and jazz told him to run.

Ooh! I can't do a full blown fic (I barely have the motivation to finish the ones I’ve started) but I can give you a one-shot?

---

Jasmine Fenton has always been a responsible young woman. That's what happens when your mildly neglectful and emotionally oblivious parents parentified you at a young age. Them’s the breaks. Anyways, Jasmine "Jazz" Fenton had raised her baby brother from, well, a baby to the scrawny teenager he is now and is therefore in the right to call herself his parent, even if it was a weight she wished her parents were adult enough to carry. Thus, it was a protective fury like no other that threaded through her vision when Jazz saw a terrified Danny hunched over himself in a way she'd not seen for a long time.

"Danny? Is everything okay?" Jazz quickly stepped inside of her room, taking in the amount of Boo-merangs laying broken and discarded on her floor. She locked the door. This was a locked door conversation, clearly.

"They found out." Danny curled up even more. His words were muffled into the tattered denim of his jeans. Jazz's body went cold as the stark red and green splotches made themselves apparent to her eyes. "They're hunting me."

Breathe. Danny needs you. Break down later. When he’s not around to watch you shatter at how his voice broke.

"Are you injured?" Danny nods meekly. It broke her heart to see him so removed from his usual and mildly ironic lively self.

She patched him up, keeping the red at the edge of her sight at bay when she catches sight of the blaster burns and the cuts.

"Good?" Danny nodded silently back. "Okay. Here's what you're gonna do."

Jazz strode over to her closet and dug out the gotta-dip bag. "Emergency escape bag. Sam saved up enough money to put a down payment and then some on an apartment in Bludhaven through cash, so you're gonna go there."

“What? Jazz, I’m not leaving you here-!”

“Danny, if you die- shut up, you know what I mean- permanently, you’ll be leaving me forever. And that’s not happening.”

Danny winced. Jazz used Pissed Off Mom Voice and it was super effective! Danny loses 50 points of bullheadedness.

“Yeah, okay.” He said weakly, in part because of the lost argument and because he also had ten different blaster scorches.

A loud thump. The siblings jolted, eyes widening in fear. Jazz’s face quickly morphed into the singular determination of getting her parents the fuck away from her baby brother.

“Go. I got this.”

Danny swallowed before grabbing Jazz in one final, desperate hug.

“PHANTOM! I KNOW YOU’RE THERE. GIVE ME MY BABY BOY BACK!”

“Mom!” Jazz shouted back, letting go of Danny and ushering him out of the window. “MOM! PHANTOM JUST FLEW TOWARDS THE TOWN CENTER!!”

“THANKS, JAZZY-PANTS!”

Once the explosive sounds of the GAV rocketed away, and Danny had disappeared into the waiting arms of Amity Park’s mystical forests, did Jasmine Fenton allow herself to sink to the ground and scream.

——

Blüdhaven wasn’t so bad. Sure, Danny’s injured to the hells and back but with the ambient ectoplasm Blud's got powering him, he's not even winded while walking home. His apartment was a bit ratty, but so was the rest of the city. At least his food’s not attacking him, and Danny learned that he’s not a bad cook. The city rats don’t even try to rob him anymore!

Really, it’s not too bad.

[Danny tried optimism. It failed critically.]

“Isn’t it too late for you to be out alone, kiddo?”

Danny whirled around, heart going straight up into the stratosphere. Which, for the halfa, was about 75 beats per minute.

“Who are you?!” Danny slid backwards, hunching in on himself to protect the injured parts of himself. He had gotten injured as Phantom, so his living form was mostly fine. It’s just being living as a scrawny 15 year old in Blüdhaven meant he had to dodge pickpockets, looters, and murderers more often than the locals did. And now, he faced his greatest evasion challenge yet, some weirdo in a sparkly blue Elvis costume. “Elvis-con was three months ago!”

The vigilante’s face, for lack of a better descriptor, smushed into a look of either great consternation or intense focus. Danny swore to himself that he wasn’t about to get offed by Bling Bling the third today. He wasn’t going down like that! Not to a the second coming of a disco ball! Sam would never let it die. Unlike how he will, if he doesn’t focus.

“I’m not impersonating Elvis!” Blue weirdo muttered.

“Of course not, you don’t have the hair.” Danny agreed, shifting back. Keep the costumed weirdo happy and Danny might get out of here safe and sound.

“Excuse you, my hair is the best-! You know what, I’m not doing this right now. I’m a whole adult.” Blue weirdo took an exaggerated breath before introducing himself, like he should have done before approaching Danny like a vaguely threatening circus performer. Danny hates the circus. “I’m the vigilante, Nightwing? You must be new to Blüdhaven.”

“How would I know if you’re a vigilante and not a villain?” Because the child dressed in brightly colored clothes and covered in blood following behind him does not inspire confidence or safety in Danny.

“Would a villain do this?!” ‘Nightwing’ flipped midair and did jazz hands. Danny crossed his arms, the movement adding much needed pressure against the ache in his chest. He levels Nightwing with an unimpressed stare.

“Yes.” Vlad did plenty of those things while trying to either adopt or murder Danny. The vigilante wilts, the ghost tearing up. and Danny tries hard not to feel guilty. He fails. Danny’s failing at things a lot lately. “I guess you get points for not trying to kidnap me, yet.”

“Really?” Nightwing grins, blinding and reflecting off of his pretty sparkly blue suit. That’s one hell of an outfit. Danny had to respect the dedication. “That’s great! So, what are you doing out here alone? Blüdhaven’s got a curfew— more like a suggestion, really, but most people follow it— and if you’re out too late, people will try to rob you!”

Personally, Danny felt like that shouldn’t have been said with a kind smile. There was something off about this guy and Danny was proven right in a few scant moments later, when a robber tries to hold Danny at gun point.

Nightwing all but flies into action, beating the absolute dogshit out of the guy. His ecrisma sticks fire up with a voltage level that raised the hairs on Danny’s neck. Was that safe for the living? Danny inched further away. “Right. You clearly have some issues to clear out on your own. I’ll… leave you to that.”

“Well, I’ll get you home safe, first.” Again, someone who sounded that nice should not be as intimidating as he is. Danny threw up his hands, hiding the wince that drew from him, and allowed the vigilante to escort him home. Even if Nightwing knows where he lives, Danny doubted he’d be able to do anything, even if the electric sticks make Danny wary.

“You live here?”

The ghost child face palms, muttering stuff about “Wing, holy shit where the fuck are your manners?!”

Honestly, Danny was feeling kind of upset too.

“Well, damn, you don’t have to be so judgmental about it. I’m trying my best, holy shit.”

——

Dick is trying his best to not lose his shit. The sparkles in his costume help him with that, reminding him there’s brightness in a world he wants to break with his bare hands. Brightness, like the kid in front of him. Danny.

The wounds were so fresh, Jason’s haunting hallucination following him so closely, that Dick had thought he was seeing another hallucination when he spied Danny from the rooftops. He was half sure he was imagining the conversation, staring at a stranger that reminded him so strongly of Jason. Clear blue eyes, black hair, and a weariness that a child shouldn’t ever have. The mugger made it clear it wasn’t fake, though, and Dick lost it.

Jason’s image overlayed with Danny’s and Dick’s big brother instinct kicked in. They kicked in, right in the mugger’s face, that is.

Great. Danny thinks he has issues. He does, of course, but… to see him wary made Dick’s heart break a little. Still…

“You live here?!” Dick shoved his foot into his mouth, shocked that Danny lived so close by, and immediately cringed at his own tone. His Jason hallucination facepalmed, telling him Alfred would kick his ass for being so thoughtless. The dirty look Danny shot him kicked his ass plenty, Dick thought, grimacing.

“Well, damn, you don’t have to be so judgmental about it. I’m trying my best, holy shit.”

“Sorry, that came out wrong.” He apologized. New plan. He was going to pull a— he grimaced again— Bruce. He was going to adopt Danny. He’ll work through the guilt later, Dick lived here and he knew how much of a shithole it was. To leave Danny alone, defenseless? Blasphemy.

Danny inched away again and Dick wilted. Why can’t he do anything right?

[storiesforallfandoms]

new toy ~ felix catton;saltburn

word count: 5901

request?: no

description: when he brings a girl home for the summer, she finds herself struggling to fit into his lifestyle

pairing: felix catton x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of parent deaths, farleigh being a catty rich bitch (affectionate), feelings of insecurity and inadequacy, little bit of angst, things get steamy but no actual smut in this one

masterlist (one, two, three)

Venetia rushed to the window of her bedroom as she heard the car carrying her brother pulling up the drive. The family had been made aware that Felix was bringing a friend home for the summer. Not that anyone had to tell them. Felix often had a new sad sack in tow whenever he came home from school, who would never be seen again once they returned to school at the end of the summer. Venetia had tried to get some information on this new friend from Farleigh, but her cousin said he hadn't seen anyone new hanging out with Felix during the school year. She was itching to get a peak at Felix's newest toy.

She gasped and turned to Farleigh, who was looking at her in curiosity. "It's a girl!"

(Y/N) stepped out of the car as Felix excitedly talked away. She looked at the giant house with wide eyes. She knew Felix had money; his parents were paying his way through college after all, meanwhile (Y/N) was a scholarship kid. But she never could've imagined he was this level of rich. His house was a goddamn castle!

She was wondering if it was too late to back out of Felix's offer to stay over.

An older man dressed in a black suit opened the front door as (Y/N) and Felix approached. (Y/N) stopped suddenly as the man's glare landed on her.

"Duncan!" Felix exclaimed. "How are you, you serious old brute?"

"Good to see you, master Felix. This is your new...friend?"

The way he said it made (Y/N) wince.

Felix turned to her and threw an arm around her shoulders. "Don't be frightened, (Y/N). This is my family butler, Duncan. He looks terrifying, but his bark is worse than his bite."

(Y/N) tried to smile at Duncan, but he merely continued to stare her down. She shrunk into Felix's embrace, which, luckily, the taller boy noticed her discomfort and brought her into the house. With his arm still around her, Felix brought (Y/N) around the giant house. There was so much to see, so much to know. There was simply no way she'd remember it all. She expected to get lost just trying to get to the bathroom.

Luckily, that wouldn't be a problem at least, as Felix led her into his room. "Your room is just through here. We'll be sharing a bathroom. Hope you don't mind."

She was glad he wasn't facing her so he missed the look on her face at his statement.

Felix threw the door to her room open with a flourish before turning to her. "And this is where you'll be staying. Don't worry about unpacking, the butlers will do that for you. It has a nice view of the garden and such, and I'm just next door past the bathroom, as you've already seen."

He flopped down onto her bed and stretched out so he was taking up the entire bed. (Y/N) pushed his leg over a bit so she could sit next to him. "It's a lot to take in."

"I know," Felix said. He rolled onto his side to look up at her. "It'll feel like a lot, but I promise my family will love you. And if it gets overwhelming, I'll be here."

He put his hand on her leg. She looked down at it, the heat from where his hand was touching rising from that spot all the way up to her face. Her entire body felt like it had been ignited by a simple gesture to try and bring her comfort. She wondered if Felix knew what he did to her.

She tried not to let her disappointment show as Felix stood, removing his hand from her leg.

"I'll let you unwind or whatever," he said. "Dinner isn't until 5, so you have plenty of time to yourself until then. You brought a dress, right?" She nodded. "Good. Mum and dad insist on fancy dinner wear. It's a little embarrassing. I'll be in my room if you need anything."

And just like that, he was gone. (Y/N) sighed and fell back onto the bed.

This definitely was not how she expected to spend her summer. She had started her time at Oxford as an outcast, a scholarship loser among a sea of rich kids. She tired not to let it get to her. Getting into Oxford at all was a big deal, (Y/N) knew to be proud of that. But that didn't make the whispers and dirty looks directed towards her any easier to take.

She didn't seek out friendship with anyone, let alone with Felix. Of course, she had noticed Felix. Who wouldn't? He was beautiful and had charm for days. Everyone loved him. But (Y/N) knew better than to try and approach him. They were from two completely different worlds, and (Y/N) knew she didn't belong in his world.

To her surprise, it was Felix who initiated first contact.

They were in an English class together. Felix had sat next to her one day and asked, "Did you finish the reading for today?" (Y/N) was so shocked that he had spoken to her that she could only nod in response. "Can you summarize it for me? I tried to read it but it was so fucking boring."

Apparently, that one act of kindness was enough to consider (Y/N) a friend. Felix invited her to sit with him at the bar, to come study in his room, to go to the "invite only" parties on campus. His other rich friends didn't seem to enjoy her company, but he did and that's all that mattered.

When (Y/N) told Felix she had nowhere to go for the summer, he invited her to come stay with him and his family in Saltburn. He refused to take no for an answer. So now here she was, in a bedroom that only had a bathroom to separate her and the boy she had started developing feelings for but knew she couldn't have, in a house the size of a castle owned by a family who mad more money than she'd ever see in her life.

She let out another sigh for good measure before sitting up. She still had plenty of time before dinner, but she wanted to make sure she was presentable to meet Felix's family for the first time. She got up and went to the bathroom, locking the door that led to Felix's room just in case. There was no shower, so she had to opt for a bath. She tried to be quick, but once she had laid in the oversized tub and allowed the hot water to engulf her, she never wanted to get out. Maybe she could spend the entire summer in the tub instead of dealing with Felix's family.

When the water began to go cold, she reluctantly got out and returned to her room. She had packed the limited amount of makeup she owned just in case there were any formal gatherings she needed to dress up for. Now she was definitely glad she had if dinner was meant to be a formal thing. She did her makeup carefully to make sure it was perfect, then dug through her bag for the dress she had packed. It wasn't anything super fancy, just a royal blue, off the shoulder dress with a pleated skirt that came down just above the knee. It was the nicest dress she owned, so eh hoped it would suffice.

There was still some time before dinner, but (Y/N) figured it was time to meet the family.

She stepped out of her room and realized she had no idea where to go to find the dining room.

"Need help?"

(Y/N) jumped and turned to see Duncan stood, blank faced yet again, looking at her,

"Yes please," she responded, her voice soft.

"Follow me," Duncan told her. He didn't wait to see if she was following, she she quickly troted along behind him to keep up.

The Catton family was sat around the dinner table already when Duncan led (Y/N) into the room. All eyes turned to her when she walked in. She suddenly felt very self conscious and wished she was back in the hot, welcoming bath tub.

Until she caught Felix looking at her as if she were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on.

"Oh, Felix, darling," an older woman sat at the head of the table - Felix's mom - said. "She is absolutely beautiful."

His mom stood from her seat and quickly approached (Y/N). She gently cupped (Y/N)'s cheeks. (Y/N) tensed, unsure of what to do. Mrs. Catton didn't seem to notice, or if she did she didn't let on.

"Honey, you didn't tell us how beautiful she was," Mrs. Catton said to her son.

"You never believe me," Felix retorted.

Mrs. Catton turned back to (Y/N). "Welcome, darling. We're very happy to have you here. You can call me Lady Elspeth." She took (Y/N)'s hands and squeezed them, then gestured towards the table. "We left a seat free next to Felix for you. Come, sit. Dinner will be served soon."

(Y/N) quickly moved to the table, oping to no longer be the center of attention. Felix was still smiling at her as she sat down next to him.

"You do look beautiful," he said.

Her face started heating up. "Thank you."

Across from them, a throat cleared. Felix glanced up at his cousin. (Y/N) didn't miss the subtle change in Felix's expression. "(Y/N), this is my cousin, Farleigh, and my sister, Venetia."

"Oh, I know Farleigh," she said, looking over at the other young man. He gave her an obviously forced smile. "I-I mean, I know of Farleigh. I've seen you around on campus."

"Weird that I haven't seen you. It's not like Felix to hide his friends away," Farleigh said.

"I wasn't hiding her away." Felix's face was tense. (Y/N) wondered what the story between him and Farleigh was. They seemed to get along well on campus, or at least Farleigh was in Felix's friend group.

Dinner was served, thus breaking up the tense moment. A plate was placed in front of everyone and they all began to eat. (Y/N) tried not to draw too much attention to herself, but she knew her presence alone was drawing attention. Both Farleigh and Venetia weren't very subtle with the way they were staring at her.

"So, (Y/N)," Elspeth said after a few moments of silence, "what is it you're studying at Oxford?"

"English," (Y/N) responded. "I'd like to be a writer when I graduate, but I know that's not an entirely realistic dream so I'm aiming to be an English teacher as a backup."

"Oh, writing! That's wonderful, darling!" Elspeth said. (Y/N) was somewhat shocked that Elspeth seemed genuine with her interest. "Have you written anything yet?"

"A few short stories." She shrugged. "Nothing major."

"'Nothing major'?" Felix questioned. "She's won contests with her short stories! Remember, you told me one of your stories was published in an anthology of short stories when you were still in high school?"

Elspeth and Felix's dad, Sir James, were impressed, while (Y/N) was surprised that Felix had remembered her telling him that. He was smiling down at her in pride and she couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Is that how you got your scholarship?" Farleigh asked. The look on his face told (Y/N) that his question wasn't as genuine as Elspeth's had been.

"Farleigh," Felix sneered.

"What? I was just asking. It's not like it's a secret that she's a scholarship kid. There's no shame in needing some financial help."

"You would know, wouldn't you?"

"Boys," James said, his voice stern in warning.

Dinner fell quiet after that. (Y/N) pushed her food around her plate, suddenly no longer hungry. She was back to wishing she could melt away into the floor and never be seen again. Maybe it wasn't too late to just go back to the school and stay in the dorms alone for the summer.

Once she had finished eating, she politely excused herself and went back to her room. She had paid enough attention when Duncan showed her to the dining room that she made it back with no issue. The minute the door closed behind her, she let out a sigh. A lump had started to form in her throat, but she was refusing to let herself cry. Even now while she was alone, she didn't want to give in to these feelings. She had to be strong, at least until she could get her things together and figure out a way back to the school.

As Felix had told her, the butlers had unpacked her bag while she was at dinner. It took her a moment to find her pajamas and makeup remover. She pulled on an oversized shirt she had packed to wear on the warm nights and was leaned over the dresser to start taking off her makeup, the shirt riding up just enough, when the door connecting her and Felix suddenly opened. Felix walked in, still in his suit from dinner, except he had removed his tie and the top few buttons had been undone. (Y/N) quickly stood up straight, pulling her shirt down to cover her ass.

"Don't you knock?" she asked.

"No, why would I?" he said.

"What if I was changing?"

"You weren't."

She rolled her eyes and went back to taking her makeup off, this time more cautious about how much of her was being exposed with Felix in the room.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry about how Farleigh acted during dinner," Felix said.

(Y/N) paused for a moment. She glanced at Felix through the mirror. He was looking up at her with an expression that told her his apology was genuine.

"It's alright," she said.

"No, it wasn't alright. He shouldn't be saying those things about you. It's not like he's much different. My parents have financially supported him for years and let him stay here for free. At least you earned your scholarship, he only got his way in life because of his family."

"So did you, though." There was a beat, and (Y/N) quickly turned to face Felix. "Wait, I didn't mean - "

"No, you're right," he cut her off. "My parents have financially helped me, too. You're the only one among us who has really earned your spot at Oxford. It's not fair of Farleigh to try and make you feel small because you come from a different background."

(Y/N) wanted to tell him it wasn't just Farleigh, it was everyone at Oxford. Even Felix's own friend group had shunned (Y/N) when he introduced her to them. It felt like Felix was the only one who truly wanted to befriend (Y/N).

"You don't have to apologize for him," she said instead. "But I appreciate that you'd want to."

"You're my friend. I didn't bring you here to be insulted by my obnoxious cousin, I brought you here because I wanted you to spend the summer with us."

Friend.

Even though she knew that's all they were, it still stung to hear him say it. She wanted so much more than that, but it was wishful thinking to believe that Felix cause ever want more than that.

"I...I think I'm gonna just...get in bed."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "It's still only early."

"I know. All the travel just has me feeling pretty worn out."

"Okay."

He stood and (Y/N) expected him to go back to his room. When he started to unbutton his shirt more, her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

"What are you doing?!"

"I was going to stay over here tonight. If you were okay with that, that is."

"You're supposed to ask these things before you just start undressing."

Felix chuckled as (Y/N) turned her back to him. "You really don't want to watch as I undress?"

Of course I want to watch! "I'm just...trying to be courteous."

He laughed again. (Y/N) could hear the sounds of his clothes hitting the floor. She wondered why he hadn't at least gone back to his room to get a pair of pajamas. At least pajama pants. She was starting to get the feeling that at home, Felix didn't have to ask many questions, and that also extended towards his guests.

"Okay, I am covered."

When she turned back, he was under the covers of her bed, his hands behind his head so she could see that he was at least shirtless under there.

"The bed is big enough for us to share," he said, reading the shocked look on her face. "That is, again, if you don't mind."

"N-No. I-I guess that's fine."

(Y/N) crawled into bed next to Felix. She tried to put as much distance between the two of them as she could but, despite what Felix said, the bed certainly was not that big. She could still feel the heat from his body as she turned onto her side, her back to him. She could feel his nearness. And she could feel the fact that he was only wearing his boxers.

"You don't have to stay, you know," she said. "I'm not going to slip away during the night or something."

He bed shook a little as he laughed. "I know. I just wanted to stay over here. At the very least, I want to make sure you don't have any issues sleeping. I always find I struggle when I'm trying to sleep in a new place."

(Y/N) rolled onto her other side so that she could face Felix. The full moon was shining through the window, illuminating his face. He turned his head to look down at her.

"I really appreciate everything you've done for me, Felix," she said, her voice so soft it was nearly a whisper.

He smiled. "Get some sleep, (Y/N). I don't intend on having a boring day tomorrow if the weather is nice."

~~~~~~

When (Y/N) woke up the next morning, she completely forgot where she was. The bed was far too soft to be the one in her dorm at Oxford, and it was certainly too hot to be just a normal day during the schooling semester.

Not to mention the fact that there was a body laying under her.

(Y/N)'s eyes snapped open as she realized her head was resting on Felix's chest, and his arm around wrapped around her. At some point in the night, they must've shifted so that they were cuddling. (Y/N) wasn't sure if she should pull away or stay where she was. What would Felix's reaction be when he woke up and found them both in such a compromising position?

A knock came at her door. "Miss. (Y/N)?"

It was Duncan's voice. Now she was definitely panicking.

"Just checking if you're awake," he added.

"Uh...yeah! I am Duncan!" she called back.

"Breakfast is being served in ten minutes. Do wake up master Felix and let him know as well. His mother will want him to punctual since she didn't get as much time with him last night."

Her face burned. She wondered if Duncan knew Felix was in here with her, or if he meant for her to go over to Felix's room to wake him.

The sound of footsteps retreating down the hallway told her that Duncan had walked away. She let out a breath, relaxing into Felix's side yet again. She felt him move beneath her and she quickly pulled out of his arms before he started to wake up.

She was shocked at how beautiful he looked in the morning. The same perfect beauty he had when he fell asleep. Not a single hair out of place, no drool on his lips, no sleepy gunk in his eyes. It was really unfair just how perfect he really was.

His eyes slowly blinked open and he smiled when he saw (Y/N) looking down at him. "Good morning."

"Morning," she said. "Uh, Duncan was just here. He said breakfast is in ten minutes."

Felix groaned. "I don't want to get up yet. Why does mum have to have breakfast so early?"

(Y/N) looked at the clock hung on the wall. "It's almost 10am."

"Far too early to wake up in the summer."

She couldn't help but chuckle a little. Felix stretched his arms out and sat up as well. His face was suddenly very close to hers, almost too close.

"I suppose I should get ready for breakfast then," he said.

"Is there any dress code for breakfast?"

He shook his head. "Not for breakfast, but the dress code for today's events is a bathing suit. Once we finish eating, I'm taking you down to the lake."

~~~~~~

A few hours later, (Y/N) was following Felix towards the lake next to his house. It was a scorching hot day outside. One that was definitely better spent in the cooling water instead of cooped up inside.

Farleigh and Venetia were already by the lake. Farleigh was laid back on a towel, reading some book, while Venetia was sat by the lake with her feet in the water. She looked over her shoulder as she heard the two approach and smiled.

"Well, here they are!" she announced. "Finally you're here."

"Pull up a towel," Farleigh said, not looking up from his book.

(Y/N) went to sit on the grass, but Venetia called, "Not you! You're joining me down here. I've been surrounded by this testosterone for far too long."

She wasn't about to argue. She was already coated in sweat just from walking down from the house. (Y/N) sat beside Venetia and placed her feet in the water. The sudden cold was like a shock to her system, but definitely a welcome one.

"So, (Y/N)," Venetia said, "tell me, how did you and my brother meet?"

"We were in class together," (Y/N) responded. "I helped him with an assigned reading he had trouble with."

"Saved my ass from failing that surprise test the professor gave us," Felix added.

"It wasn't a surprise, he told us about it the class before," (Y/N) said.

"I wasn't there that class, so it was a surprise to me."

"Was that the day you were too hungover after a dorm party on a Sunday night?" Farleigh asked.

"A Sunday?!" (Y/N) laughed.

"It was a surprise party for one of my friends in the dorm," Felix responded. "He had gone home for the weekend so we had to have the party that Sunday. I didn't plan to get fucked up that night."

"You never do," Farleigh commented.

"What about your family, (Y/N)?" Venetia interrupted. "Are they okay with you spending your summer with a load of strangers?"

Felix opened his mouth to deter his sister from asking, but (Y/N) cut him off by saying, "My parents are dead."

A silence fell over them. Venetia looked a mixture of horrified and sad. Farleigh lowered his book to look over at (Y/N). Felix was trying not to look at any of them while (Y/N) was fixing her attention on the water in front of her. She was running her feet back and forth, disrupting the otherwise calm water.

"They died when I was ten," she continued. "Car accident, drunk driver. I've lived with my grandparents since then, but my grandpa died a year ago and my gran is starting to develop dementia. When I got accepted into Oxford, I made a deal with the Dean that I could stay on campus during the summers until I could afford my own place."

Venetia looked like she was about to cry. (Y/N) suddenly wished she had lied and made up some story about her parents.

"Way to ruin the moon, V," Farleigh commented.

"I didn't know!" Venetia retorted.

"No, it's fine," (Y/N) cut off their bickering. "It's tough, but I've had years to come to terms with all the death, and gran is in a nursing home now so she's being taken care of. I don't want anyone to tip toe around me like I'm made of glass."

As if to make her point, (Y/N) pushed off the edge of the lake and into the water. She shrieked as the cold engulfed her. Venetia followed suit, and soon enough both of them had convinced Farleigh and Felix to get into the water as well. The conversation was long forgotten as they swam around, splashing one another as if they were children.

~~~~~~

That night, (Y/N) was sat in the garden underneath her bedroom window. With the sun gone down, the air had cooled off, but only slightly. The room was still too stuffy for her, and opening the window just made it worse, so she opted to sit out in the cool air before she tried to sleep again.

Footsteps approached and she expected it to be Felix. When she turned, she was surprised to see Venetia instead, dressed in a sheer nightgown and carrying a lit cigarette between her fingers.

"Mind if I sit?" Venetia asked.

"I feel like I should be the one asking you that, considering it's your house."

Venetia chuckled and sat next to her.

(Y/N)'s first impression of Venetia had been wrong, and she was kind of glad it had been. She thought that, like Farleigh, Venetia was also going to be a little catty and condescending towards her. But after their day by the lake, she felt a sort of kinship with Venetia. They were the only two young girls at Saltburn, they had to look out for one another at the very least.

"So, how are you enjoying your stay so far?" Venetia asked.

"It's lovely here," (Y/N) said. "Much better than spending the summer at the Oxford campus along. At least there's a lot of the house to explore, and at least two people who seem to want me here."

"Three, if you count mum. She's ecstatic to have you. If you're not careful, she might just try and adopt you."

"I wouldn't complain."

Venetia took a drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke into the air. "And, um...has Felix been treating you well?"

(Y/N) looked over at her with confusion. "I'd...say more than well. Why?"

"I just..." Venetia leaned over, resting her arms against her legs. "I'm not saying this to try and scare you or anything. I truly like you, (Y/N), and I just want to warn you because I know how my brother is. He often takes someone who is a little more...damaged than him under his wing and brings them back here for a few months. But once the summer ends, or once he's lost interest, he casts them aside for whatever new shiny toy catches his attention."

Venetia's words hit (Y/N) like a ton of bricks. She had been telling herself for months since meeting Felix that their friendship was too good to be true, that he was going to realize he was making a mistake and move on. But when he didn't, when he asked her back to his house for the summer, she thought that maybe she was wrong. Maybe he actually did care for her and wanted to be friends with her. She had a tiny glimmer of hope that maybe this summer would bring them closer together, that they could become more than just friends.

If anyone would know how Felix was, it would be Venetia. She was his sister. She had seen a lifetime of the way Felix acted with friends. If she was warning her of the possibility that Felix might toss her aside once the summer ended, then she felt inclined to believe Venetia.

"Again, I'm not telling you this as a way to make you upset," Venetia added. "Trust me, I want nothing more than for you to stay with us for the summer. I just really do not want you to get hurt if that's what happens with Felix."

Tears were forming in (Y/N)'s eyes again. She was having a harder time at fighting them than the night before after all Farleigh had said to her. She quickly stood and murmured a "goodnight" to Venetia before rushing back inside the house. She got to her bedroom just in time for the tears to start falling.

Stupid! You're so stupid for thinking you belonged here in his world. You're nothing more than a charity case for him!

(Y/N) sunk to the floor and buried her head in her hands. She cried and cried until the tears dried up and she was essentially dry sobbing. Her eyes felt heavy and her body was aching from being on the floor for so long. She just wanted to go to back to the school and pretend this entire trip never happened.

When she finally coaxed herself to stand, (Y/N) went to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth before bed. She looked at herself in the mirror and winced. Her eyes were swollen and red, her cheeks were flush, and there were tear stains on her cheeks from crying. She grabbed a face cloth and wet it down with warm water. Before she could start wiping her face, the door leading to Felix's room opened. She froze, the wet cloth in her hands.

"Hey," Felix said. She thought for a moment that he hadn't noticed her state, until suddenly he was beside her. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said, wincing again at the sound of her horse voice.

"You don't look or sound fine."

She began to wipe her face, trying to ignore Felix's presence. As she rinsed the face cloth again, she said, "I think I'm going to call the Dean tomorrow to ask if my room is still available at the school, then look into getting the next train back to Oxford as soon as possible."

"What? Why? I thought you wanted to stay."

(Y/N) shook her head. "I don't belong here, Felix. This is your world, not mine. I'm just the girl with dead parents and a scholarship, struggling to figure out how or if I'll ever be financially stable enough to live on my own once the school kicks me out."

"What did Farleigh say to you?"

"It wasn't Farleigh!" she snapped, finally turning to face him. "It was Venetia! She told me that you don't let people stick around for long. That you take in the charity cases and toss them aside when you're bored. And I knew that's what was happening with me, I knew there was no way you could possibly want to be friends with me, but I was also stupid enough to let myself believe that maybe it was all real. That maybe you actually cared and you actually wanted me here!"

She was crying again. She must've looked and sounded insane. She wished she had never accepted Felix's offer to come here. She could only imagine what he would say about her when she left the next day.

"I'm not staying here and waiting to be hurt, Felix," she said. "You may think it's fun to toy with people's emotions, but I don't. Not when I trusted you in telling you about my parents, about my stories, about my sad little poor life."

She had more to say, although she wasn't sure if any of it would've made sense, but Felix cut her off before she could. He took hold of her face and pulled her in for a kiss. It surprised her at first and she pulled away almost immediately. He looked down at her, worried, like he was scared he had just crossed a line. When her brain finally caught up to what was happening, she quickly leaned back in to kiss him again.

Her hands held on to his shirt while one of his still cupped her face and the other started to move down her body. With one quick movement, he had lifted her up onto the counter and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her hands moved to tangle into his hair. His tongue moved across her bottom lip, silently asking for entrance to her mouth. She realized he was commando under his pajama pants when she felt him pressed against her, the only layer between being her panties as she was once again in the oversized shirt she had worn the night before.

Felix broke away first. She tried to follow him, but he held her back, a playful grin on his face.

"I don't want you to go," he said. "I want you here. Not just for this summer, but every summer from now on. I want you in my dorm room back at school, and eventually in my own place when we finish with school. I want you, (Y/N). You're not some toy to me."

"How long have you felt like this?" she asked.

"Since before I spoke to you in class that first day."

"Why did you wait so long to tell me?"

"I kept chickening out. Every girl I've been with has only wanted me for my money, or my looks, or both. No one has ever really cared for me as a person. When you did, it almost intimidated me. I needed to know for sure you'd be here for the long run, so I brought you home to see how you'd react to everything."

"Am I passing the test?"

He chuckled and kissed her again. "With flying colors."

She couldn't get enough of him; of his lips, his smile, his body against hers, his hands on her. She wanted all of him all the time. She suddenly never wanted to leave either of their rooms for the rest of the summer.

"You can still go back to school if you feel uncomfortable here. I wouldn't blame you there," he said. "But if you're going back, I'm coming with you."

She shook her head. "I couldn't take you away from your family."

"Then stay. I want you to be here, too. I want to be with you."

She grinned cheekily back at him. "If you're going to beg, you should be on your knees at least."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "If that's what you want."

She wanted all of him all the time, but she decided not to say that just yet. She was still a little cautious. She had to make sure Felix meant what he was saying, even if she felt deep down that he was. He needed to prove himself to her before she opened up that much to him.

But for now, she would definitely take the sight of him on his knees, his face between her legs as his hands pushed the shirt up around her hips.

[kookochan]

Messy Thoughts

Loving someone is scary sometimes. You think about every possibility that could happen, and the worst part is that it's making you feel like you're falling apart.

Summary: your fiancé decided to become a pro at boxing, but will your fears give you peace? +18

boxer Jungkook x fem! student reader

warnings/content: a little angst, smut (oral sex m receiving) , mention of blood and bruises, overthinking, jealousy, childhood trauma (violence, loss of a parent) and ghosting (?)

wc: 5,2K

── .✦

Days ago you were swearing to God that you wouldn't be here. You said you won't come to watch him and that you won't help him if he gets hurt. But here you are, sitting in a corner of the room and watching him. You think back at the time when you thought your life could change. Today you're sure that it was a lie. Not even a dream.

You can remember your 10th birthday, where you were sitting in your room and counting the seconds. Praying that your mother would survive the night while your father was beating her up. That wasn't the perfect birthday you imagined. But when your friends asked about it, you would say that it was perfect. That you got a lot of new dolls and plushies. A big cake that your parents baked for you.

Years went by with a hope that one day everything would change. The day your mother died, you couldn't even cry about the loss. In a twisted way, you were happy that she wasn't suffering anymore. It was a big loss for your father, who needed a new person to let out his stress. And there was you. In his eyes, a perfect copy of your mother.

You were different than your mother. She wouldn't talk back to him or fight him back. But you would yell at him every time he was yelling. You would weakly try to push him back when he tried to hit you. He wouldn't like that.

In your 17 years of living, you couldn't see the world in colors. There was no reason to hold on, and every other day you stopped dreaming of a new life. Till the day you met Jungkook. You were classmates, and the relationship started with being friends. And yes, you quickly caught feelings for him, which he returned with all of his heart.

You would climb up his window at night. Just for him to hold you and clean your wounds. He promised you that he will do everything to change your life. You would cry in his arms without realizing that he is crying too. He was the reason that you found your smile back.

When you turned 18, he proposed to move out with him. There wasn't a lot to think about. His family has a wealthy background, so they supported him with money. It wasn't jealousy, but you adored his family situation. They were truly lucky and loved. Moving out was a big step to your new life. You have lost contact with your father. He wasn't pleased about the idea of losing you, but you never listened to him.

And now you're 24 years old and he is 25. In the meantime, you got engaged, and you can't imagine a day without him. Your love grew stronger, and he became your favorite person in the world. But today you hate him for his decision. He is standing in the middle of the boxing ring. You can only see his eyes.

You take the room in. His opponent doesn't look like he is in the same weight class as him. Also, he is famous as the boxing beast. You're scared that this will be Jungkook's last match.

"You don't want to accept this offer, do you?" you ask him in shock. "Baby, I would get a lot of money, and also my status would change," he says and quickly grabs your hands to avoid you from walking away. You chuckle at him. "You can get hurt really bad, Jungkook. Don't you remember the match months ago? You needed to stay hospitalized because of your stupid decision." You can see that he is not liking the reminder.

"I know that you think about me, and I really appreciate it. But taking a risk is a part of my job," he says and places a kiss on your jaw. "I don't like where this conversation is going. You're not asking me, right? You made your mind, and you're just telling me," you say as you pull away from his hold. He quickly whines at the loss of contact. "I don't want to lie. I already accepted it and just need to sign. I promise you that I will be fine," he says with honesty. You make a pause before talking. "Okay, do what you want, and I swear to God, I will not come watching you," you say your final word and walk to the bathroom.

Sometimes you forget that he is a lot more stubborn than you. He signed that contract, and now you wait for the final round. The match was exciting for the audience. They were cheering along or screaming if they got angry.

The last match begins, and you shut your eyes. You don't want to see him get hurt. You have already seen the blood on his face, and it's enough. After some minutes, the round is over, and you're genuinely surprised that he won.

Jungkook's eyes are searching for you. He is happy that he won but also broken that he is standing here without your support. His eyes find you, and he smiles. "We need to go back," Namjoon says and pulls him away. "She came," he tells him happily. Namjoon turns to him. "She texted me yesterday and asked about today. Did you really think she wouldn't be here?" Jungkook grins at the information because, no, he really thought you wouldn't come. After all, you slept with your back facing him. He was so sad about it.

"Look at your ugly face," Jin says and starts cleaning the mess. "Woah, stop being so harsh," Jungkook says and starts pouting. Jin ignores him and goes on. You watch them from the door with a straight face. Of course you're happy that he was right at the end of the day, but that doesn't mean that you're happy with his decision. Your eyes wander from his head to his toes. He looks hot like this, but no, you can't melt.

Jungkook opens his eyes and meets yours. "Baby?!" he says with a smile. You feel your knees getting weak. "Hello, guys," you say to the others. Jin and Namjoon greet you back with a soft smile. You can see Jungkook frown, and you raise a brow at him. Poor man looks like he lost his whole career.

"Yn! Nice to see you, princess," Tae says and hugs you from the side. You smile at him and hug him back. "Nice to see you too. How are you?" you ask him. So you start a conversation with him. Jin looks at Jungkook's sad expression and says, "Come on, man, loosen up a bit. You can talk to her later." Jungkook nods to him and thinks of ways to get your attention.

•

You walk out of your bathroom with ointment and a towel. Jungkook took a shower before you and already sits on the large couch watching a show. You walk towards him, and his head turns towards you. He watches as you stand in front of him with wet hair. He doesn't waste time and holds your waist while looking into your eyes. You can't describe how cute he looks like this.

You sit down on his lap and start to treat his bruises on his face. He watches your hands doing their magic. "Are you still mad at me?" he asks softly. You sigh and pat his face with the damp towel. When you're sure that your job is done, you place everything on your side. "I am," you say with a pout. He brushes your hair with his fingers. "I'm sorry, baby. I don't want to make you worried," he says. You nod at him, "I know, and I also know that we talked about it a lot. I'm just scared."

He starts kissing your neck and shoulder. "I promise you that I will be fine and that I won't get hurt," he says. His fingers already started moving on your back. "That is an empty promise, Jungkook. You know that you can't control it," you say, tilting your head. He smiles at you, "I know, but I will do everything to hold my promise." You hug him tightly and think about all of this.

Jungkook knows that you're thinking a lot about his job. To be exact, since the day he told you that he wants to do it professionally. Boxing was his hobby, but he always dreamt of a big career. He started 2 years ago and is already ranked high. But he wants more; he is competitive. Sometimes you wish that he would return to his studies, but you know that's just selfish.

"How was your day?" he asks genuinely. "I skipped class. And I need to study for my exam next week. It's about Hamlet by Shakespeare," you answer. He pats your head. "You're always doing great, baby. Don't stress yourself too much," he says. You place a soft kiss on his neck. The little gesture causes goosebumps on his body.

"I missed you the whole night," he says with a pout on his face. You move back a little to look at him. "What? I was sleeping next to you." "You turned your back on me! I was so sad," he says with big eyes. You tilt your head and say, "You're so dramatic. But I know how to get your heart back." He watches as you move your hand over his chest, stopping at the waistband of his sweatpants.

You stand up from his lap to drop on your knees in front of him. His eyes darken immediately, and he starts playing with your hair. You waste no time in pulling his sweatpants down with his boxers. Before you can touch him, he stops you by holding your hand. He bends down to pull the carpet under your knees. "Get on it; you will hurt your knees." And this little gesture shows you once more why you love him.

When you're comfortable in the position, you start to touch his already hardened dick. He leans back at the sensation and watches your moves with half-lidded eyes. You start with little kitten licks before taking him into your mouth. He moans your name, and his hand quickly finds your hair. You've been dating him for longer than seven years, but you're still not used to his size. You bob your head the way you know he loves.

"You look so pretty, baby," he says while watching your already glassy eyes. He can't control himself and tightens his grip on your hair. "Relax your throat a little," he says and starts moving his hips at your pace. You place your hands on his thighs and tap him as a signal that he can take control. He catches the instruction quickly and takes control. "Such a good girl for me," he hisses. His pace quickens, and you moan at that. "Fuck," he says as he feels the vibration. It doesn't take him long to feel the heat rushing.

"I will come, baby," he says and tries to pull away. But you squeeze his free hand to let him know it's fine. He throws his head back, and you feel thick ropes filling your mouth. When he came down from his high, you slightly pulled away and swallowed his seed down. You laugh at his blown-out face and tug him back in his boxers and sweatpants.

"I love you," he says while smiling at you with those dangerous sparkling eyes. "I love you too," you say before standing up. "I want to thank you for this," he says and holds one of your legs so that you can't walk away. "You can thank me later. You need to rest and get more energy," you say. He pouts at that, but he knows that there is no chance of convincing you.

When you both lie down in bed, you're fast asleep. But some unshared things are holding him back from falling asleep. He looks at you with guilt bubbling in his stomach.

•

You highlight the last word and look at the whole page. "Fuck, I nearly highlighted the whole page," you say to yourself. Chemistry is your most hated subject, but you need to do this course for this semester. You already finished uni two hours ago, and now you're sitting at your part-time job. A little cafe on a busy street, but right now it's not that crowded. Enough time to study behind the desk.

"Hi princess! What's up?" You hear a familiar voice. You look up to see Tae and Namjoon waving at you. "Hii, I'm doing good, and you?" you ask and start doing their usual order. "It's a little stressful these days. You know all the booking and organization," he says, leaning on one of his arms. You nod at his words. "That sounds stressful. Where are you going?" you ask interestedly and hand him his coffee before preparing Namjoon's matcha.

"He is talking about the tour with Jungkook," Namjoon says. You freeze for a moment. 'Which tour?'. But if you ask that way, they will know that you have no information about it. "Oh, okay! Tell me about the exact plan, please. Jungkook was too lazy to explain it to me," you lie. I got you! So first we fly to London for two days. There will be the first match. And then we will fly to Paris for the second match. We planned to stay for two days. At least we will fly to Tokyo for the last match. It's not clear how long we will stay because if he wins all of them, we want to celebrate. Also, we're going in such a big group; a little party wouldn't be bad, right? And sorry for Nari coming too; she will be filming everything," he says a little guilty about the last part.

For understanding, you hate Nari. And everyone knows that. She had a crush on Jungkook, and after finding out that you both dated, she continued to drool over him. And she is going with Jungkook? You are seconds away from breaking everything near you. But instead you hand Namjoon his matcha. You want to tell Tae that everything is fine because you're not even invited by your boyfriend (fiancé).

"That sounds like a plan," you say and smile at him. He looks worried that you skipped the part with Nari, but he doesn't comment on it. "Let's talk about it later. We need to go," he says and lends you his card. "Nah, you don't need to pay," you say and push his hand away. He tries anyway and gives up when other customers walk in. You wave at both of them and continue to work. The topic is still heavy in your head.

•

You close your textbook after taking some notes for your upcoming exam. Sitting on the floor was a bad idea; your back hurts like hell. You lean against the couch and watch the raindrops fall from the window. Why would he not tell you about something this big? Are you making him feel bad about his job? Did you already grow apart? All these thoughts are making you tear up.

At the other end of the room, you hear Jungkook happily preparing dinner. He told you that you worked hard today and needed some good food. You look down at your engagement ring and play with it. "Baby food is done," he announces, and you walk to the table. You start eating without saying a word. The fact that he cooked your favorite meal is crashing you down, and you feel too many emotions.

He watches as you quietly eat your food. He knows something is off, but he doesn't want to push you to tell him. He knows that you need your space sometimes, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't worry about you. And then he remembers something that he needs to tell you. But he is scared of your reaction, so he delays it for tomorrow.

You finish your plate and smile at him, "Thank you, baby, it was delicious." He smiles back at you, but you wait for him to tell you what you already know, but nothing is coming out of his mouth. So you stand up and make your way to the kitchen. He follows you like a lost puppy. "I will do the dishes. You can start with your bed routine," he says and places a kiss on your cheek. You nod at him and walk away.

When you both finally lie in bed, you watch him do sketches on his iPad. You wonder why it's so hard for him to tell you about next week. But you will give him a chance in the morning. You're positive that he would tell you at breakfast. Maybe he didn't say anything tonight because he thought that you were tired enough. You close your eyes and fall asleep quickly.

Jungkook looks at the clock and realizes that he has already worked on his project for over two hours. His eyes wander at your face only to realize that you're crying in your sleep. He quickly puts his iPad on the nightstand, and by that time, you start to shake. Your hands weakly gripping the duvet. He softly calls your name in hope that you would wake up. But you open your eyes and quickly sit up.

He worriedly watches the way you look around. You don't even notice his presence. Dreaming about your dad was nothing new, but dreaming about your dad and Nari was a nightmare. You place your hand on your chest, crying even harder. Then you feel Jungkook's soft touch, but you can't hear what he is saying. He hugs you tightly and places kisses on your hair.

"All good, baby, you're here with me and safe," you finally hear him say. When you hold his hand, you feel the missing ring. You look down to confirm that you're tripping right now, but you're not. Jungkook gently wipes your tears without noticing what you just discovered.

You slightly pull away, and your heart breaks again when you see him smile with those eyes. "Where is your ring?" you ask him. His smile drops, and you can see that he feels bad about it. "I think I forgot it when I was training. But I swear I will look for it tomorrow!" he explains while moving his hands around.

"Maybe it's fate that you lost it," you say too quickly. "What?" he asks, and you can feel that he is scared. You lay back down, already regretting the words that you said. This bed feels too much for you right now; everything feels too much. You want to go out and breathe the fresh air. But your body betrays you, and you start crying again.

Jungkook is watching your movements, his heart beating faster than before. He doesn't want to know the meaning of your words. His hands find yours, and he is scared. "Baby, talk to me. What's wrong?" he asks gently. He knew that you would be mad at him for losing his ring. But he is sure that it's in the locker room.

You pull your hand away and cover your face with both hands. It's too much to talk about right now, but you know he wouldn't leave it at that. When you calmed down a bit, you sat up and looked at him. He is already playing with his lip ring. A habit that he has when he's stressed.

"Why didn't you tell me about the tour?" you ask him right away. He blinks a few times, not ready for the question. "I wanted to tell you and ask you to come with me, but I needed a better time. You know we argued about the last match that I had. I don't want to argue with you, love," he says. You nod and ask him, "Am I giving you weird feelings about your job?"

"No, baby, you never make me feel weird. I know that you're just worried about me. And I understand that," he says and strokes your hair. "You're lying, Jungkook. You would tell me everything about this fucking tour if you didn't doubt anything. And it's not only the tour! You're going with Nari! I don't like it!" you say while new tears are welling up in your eyes.

He looks down for a bit. You know that he doesn't know what to say. "I'm sorry that I made you feel like you need a perfect time to tell me about your job, Jungkook. That was never my intention. I'm just scared of losing you. You're everything to me, and I can't imagine a single day without you. But I'm also mad that you didn't talk to me about the doubts in your head. You could've asked me why I feel this way, or I don't know. I never thought that we would have this conversation," you add.

He looks up at you. "I know that you don't like the idea of me becoming a pro at boxing. But I thought about it a lot. It's my dream, yes, but you're also a part of it. I don't want you to think that I have any doubts. I swear I wanted to talk to you about it, but I needed more time and good timing. I would never leave without you, by the way! I already told everyone that you're coming with me," he says. You look at his eyes and smile. "I hate Nari," you say and pout. He laughs at you and messes with your hair.

"Are you mad at me?" he asks. And you don't want to lie, so you nod. He places a kiss next to your lips. "I'm sorry, baby. I never wanted you to feel this way." You pat his head. "I love you, and I would do so much for you. I'm just scared that I'm not showing you enough," you say. But he quickly denies. "No baby. You're doing a lot for me, and I feel how much you love me. Please stop thinking that, okay?" he asks. You kiss his cheek and nod again.

"Now let's sleep a little longer; you need to wake up in some hours," he says and moves so that you're lying down. You place your head on his chest and close your eyes. Your heart feels a lot lighter.

•

One week later, and you're sitting with your friend. Lia invited you over, and you're doing a girls night. You talked again with Jungkook the next day after the night, and both of you made up quickly. He planned that you would travel with him, but due to your schedule, you will only fly to Tokyo. Jungkook was really sad about it, but he knows that you can't do anything about it; exams are exams. He also luckily found his ring back. The two of you are texting and calling each other every time.

"This bitch Nari is giving me a headache. She is with every single one of them," Lia says with frustration. She has a big crush on Namjoon, but she is way too shy to talk to him. You laugh at her, "Don't worry, she only has eyes for Jungkook," you add. "Oh, I can see that," Lia says, and your eyes snap to her.

"What do you mean?" you ask. And she only shows a picture that Jimin posted in his story. They're all sitting at a table, and you can see that Nari is talking to Jungkook. The weird part is that he is laughing at something she said. "Why is he so good-looking, omg!" you say and lay back down on the floor. "I mean, we know Jungkook. He is just kind, so don't worry; she probably didn't say something that funny," she says. "I know, but I don't want him to smile at her so cutely!" you whine.

"I told Jimin to write down all the tea. I hope he is not forgetting about it," Lia tells you. You sit up and drink from your beer. "I miss my baby," you say. Lia looks at you with a sad face. "You will see him next week. That will be over quickly," she assures you.

•

Back at home, you patiently wait for Jungkook's call. You need to tell him good luck before his match begins. When the familiar ringing disturbs your quiet room, you quickly grab your phone and answer it.

"Baby, I missed you!" you tell him. "I missed you too! How are you?" he asks with a big smile. "I'm good, but what about you? Are you nervous?" you ask him. He is walking around his room. "I am a little. But I know that seeing your face will give me luck," he says while winking at you. You giggle at his playfulness. "I wish you luck, love. You will do great. Be careful, okay?" He nods. "I will," he answers.

You hear some voices in the background, and Jungkook's attention is shifting to someone else. It's the perfect opportunity to watch him. "Baby, I need to go. I will call you after the match, okay?" he says. "Okay! I love you," you tell him, and the call ends. You can't wait to be finally there with him.

He called you after his match to celebrate his win. Also, he called you in Paris, but before his flight to Tokyo, he couldn't reach you. His calls automatically went to voicemail.

•

"Maybe her phone broke down or something like that, bro. Don't worry," Jimin says. "It's been a day, Jimin. She would call me from Lia's phone or ask a neighbor. I need to fly back home," he says while pulling his hair. "Look, first we will go to the hotel, and then we can call Lia. Maybe she knows where she is. I don't think that she disappeared like that," Hobi tells him.

"Or maybe you did something really bad and she blocked you. Maybe even moved out by the time you come back?" Jin wonders. Everyone turned towards him in disbelief. "You really think this is the right time to joke?" Namjoon asks. Jin just shrugs his shoulders. While on the way to the hotel, Jungkook tries to call you again and again, but there are no answers.

"Even Lia doesn't know where she is," Jungkook says. He is seconds away from passing out. In every scenario he is going through, you are lying on the ground with blood everywhere. Maybe he is a little overdramatic, but it could be true, right? No, he prays that he is just sick.

"I don't even see a point in checking in!" he says, and his voice is already louder than before. "Omg Jungkook, calm down. If something happened to her, you would be late anyway," Nari says with annoyance. Jungkook turns around to look at her. "I don't remember that I talked to you," he snaps. Jimin laughs at that but stops when Jungkook looks at him. "Let's go to the room, and then you can look for flights back to Seoul, okay?" Namjoon says.

Jungkook walks to his room, which is bigger than the ones in London and Paris. His mind is going wild every second that he is still here. When he opens the door to his room, he falls on his knees in disbelief. You're standing right in front of him with a big smile. "Baby, you did so well! I watched everything!" you say. And then you tilt your head to the side. "Why are you sitting there on the floor?"

"Baby, are you serious? I was so worried! Why would you ghost me?" he says with a frown. You laugh at his cute face. "Oh, come on! I wanted to surprise you. Get up and come here. I ordered a cake. Your favorite with strawberries," you tell him. He jumps on his feet and hugs you from behind. You feed him one spoon of the cake. He groans at the sensation. At the same time, he kisses your neck and shoulder. "You're so greedy," you tell him while putting your hand above his on your tummy. "Only when it's you," he says and eats the rest of the slice.

•

After a quick shower, you join him on the couch. "How is your nose?" you ask. He looks at you with guilt. "I told Jimin to give me updates about you. And you really thought I wouldn't know about your bruised nose?" "It doesn't hurt anymore," he says softly. You kiss him on the cheek. "Be careful tomorrow," you say and lean against his arm. He wraps his arm around you and watches his favorite movie.

"Lay on your stomach. I will give you a good massage," you say. He smiles and lays down the way you told him. With every movement of your hands, he groans. "You have magic hands, baby," he says, and you can literally feel his body relaxing under your touch.

•

"I'm so excited!" you tell Tae, who is standing next to you. "Me too, princess. Are you mad at me that I chose Nari as the camera guy?" he asks. This question was on his mind for a long time. "No, I'm not. Oh my god, did you think that the whole time?" you ask in disbelief. He shyly nods. "Yeah, I know how she is and that you don't like her. I don't like her too, by the way, but she was the only one available for this time." You pat his arm. "All good really. And it's good that you don't like her. We need a tea session back home." He laughs at that and winks.

When the match starts, you cheer for Jungkook, and you can't deny that he looks hot. Every time he is sitting in his corner for a little break, you can see how passionate he is about this. And it breaks your heart that you had some arguments about his job. You love him, and he loves you. That should be the only thing that matters.

Besides that, you're also thinking about boxing because the way Nari is touching him makes you see red. At the same moment, Jungkook's eyes find yours, and they sparkle. You send him a flying kiss, and he acts like he is catching it.

It's not a big surprise that he won this one too. His face was a little red from all the attacks that he couldn't dodge. You're happy and proud at the same time. You know that winning every single match on this tour will help him with new contracts.

Back at the hotel, you celebrate together. Everyone is drinking and laughing about some stories. Jungkook's hand is on your thigh the whole night, and you always think about what you did in your last life to be this lucky to have him. Every time he looked at you, you could feel the warmth of his pure love.

Your only wish is that he will be safe and healthy. He would, right?

Authors note:

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it. Feel free to share your thoughts with me <3 lots of love

[millersfinest]

untethered³ | e.w

00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader

wc: 8.1k

series: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three (you’re here!), chapter four , chapter five

blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.

cw: +18, lmao flip phones, r and ellie NOT beating the cheating allegations, more use of y/n then i would prefer, she/her pronouns, afab anatomy mentioned, some vulgar language, fuckgirl!ellie (kind of), the millers, r is a writer (she doesn’t write much in this ch wink wink), dina being a bitch, more horndog ellie, r being a little self-deprecating, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, jealous ellie, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, r is still very jealous of cat, hella angst, rich!abby (one of r’s evil exes), emotional cheating (from ellie), r using abby for sex, repressed emotions, crazy mature chapter (wasn’t intentional lmao)

note: lmao guys, i just wanna say as i proceed with this series… i do not agree w cheating on your partners DONT DO IT. don’t be like ellie (or the reader), it hurts people’s feelings and it’s just not worth it. i hope i tagged everyone who wanted to to be. bisous little lesbians/sapphics in my phone <3 please, enjoy this dramatic ass chapter x

Normally, you wouldn’t be so pliant with Abigail—letting her hands drift toward the small of your back. Clearly, expressing her attraction, because she lost that privilege a while ago. But, you were weakened. And with the burning dark irises of an old friend into the back of your frame, you couldn’t help but let her. It was like she was some sort of cloak of invisibility. Some made up thing in your head ease your spirits.

You met Abby about a year ago, 2004, at some high profile event your agent made you go to. Isa introduced you as an aspiring author to anyone that she could, getting your name out there—which was a good thing, but horribly embarrassing at the time.

Abby was there with her dad, a well-known general surgeon in the city; when she was still in medical school. Wanting someone to talk to, you offered her a drink; a flute of expensive champagne. You didn’t hide your attraction to her, but you approached her with an open mind. Fortunately for you, the night consisted of flirting and great conversation. She was smart, and you loved smart women.

Give or take a few months, you withstand her busy schedule—dating each other, giving only a sliver of intention to one another. You weren’t sure what you wanted, but what you did know is that you couldn’t stand flakiness. Abby began to flake on you a lot; whether it was for her friends or work or school. For work and school you understood, but even then there were days you spent laying around each other completing your priorities. Somehow in the midst of your temporary romance, she began to cast you aside. Maybe it was because you weren’t drowning in money like she was. Or, she just didn’t like you—both were awful options.

Taking the lead, because you’d rather dump than be dumped, you broke up with her—she then hit you with: we weren’t in a relationship. Which was rough on the ears and heart. That was the first time you actually tried with someone in a long time, and she fucked it up. You learned your lesson, though.

The two of you didn’t speak for a few months, but then you called her on a very lonely night, begging for warmth. And, ever since then, it’s been off and on—you playing hard to get and her playing wanting to have.

In the bar, with your hand clutching your cold, cheap cocktail, you walked with her in the direction of Ellie. Abby had her eyes set on her friend group, so she didn’t realize you were slowing down. “I’ll catch up with you…”

“Oh—“ She looked down, seeing the table of three practically gawking at her. Abby made a face that was unreadable. “Don’t make me have to come and find you.” She purred in your ear, slipping her arm from around your shoulders. Abby was such a show off when she wanted to be, which was more often than not.

An uncomfortable smile rested on your lips, hand waving, shortly, to the three sat at the rocky table. Ellie looked completely taken aback, leaning forward on her elbows. “Who the fuck was that?” Ellie whispered as you slipped into the seat she saved for you. Her jacket was placed on the back of your seat, holding it for you.

“Hey, y/n!” Jesse spoke, grinning ear to ear, leaning back in his wooden chair.

“y/n,” Dina said, plastering a fake smile on her glossy lips.

Jesse snickered, taking a sip of his beer. “Is that all you? Goddamn.”

“She’s just a friend from New York…” You waved a hand, dismissively.

“We just watched her feel you up and buy you a drink. Some friend she is.” Ellie countered, glancing over her shoulder at the tall, muscular blonde sitting with her friends. And, weirdly enough, Abby had her eyes on her, too.

You scoffed, holding up a hand. “Okay, she didn’t feel me up. Just forget it.” Shaking your head, you replaced that stern look on your face with a smile. “Anyway, how are you guys? It’s been a long time.” You wrap your lips around the straw sticking out of your drink. The sweet tangy flavor of the alcohol mixed with cranberry juice spreading over your tongue—easing your worries.

He glanced at Ellie, briefly. So fast, you almost missed it. Almost. “I’m doing good. Just moved into my new place in Boston. How about you, Dina?” Jesse raised an eyebrow, nudging her arm.

She stirred the ice in her water with her straw, raising a thick eyebrow. “I’m great.” Dina responded, simply.

“Great.” You say, sipping your drink, awkwardly.

There was silence between the four of you that could only be classified as awkward, uncomfortable and tense. Ellie boring her big eyes into the side of your face as you, purposely, ignored her. Dina no longer having a reason to speak because of your sudden appearance. And, Jesse, well… He was normal. If anything he was trying to fight the demon that was the awkward silence.

Ellie shook her head, a scoff falling from her lips. Abruptly, she stood up, walking over to the bar. Even though her beer was barely touched. “What’s wrong with her?” You mutter, watching her get up. She motioned for the bartender, and you watched them fill up a shot glass. Her slender frame leaned over the bar top, on her toes. Pale skin exposed between the belt holding up her jeans and the hem of her shirt. You couldn’t help but let your eyes linger there—places you’ve touched with the pads of your fingers…

“I don’t know… But, I’m curious. Be right back.” Jesse stood to his feet, taking his beer with him. Leaving, none other than, you and Dina left alone.

Chewing your lip, you slide your drink forward, looking her in the eye. Perhaps, it was the liquid courage settling in your muscles. “Things shouldn’t be weird between us… Ellie wanted me here.” You felt the need to defend your place. Ever since that day, she always seen you as some predatory figure—now, that you think of it… She had even before that day. Just did a better job at hiding it. You were the predatory animal chasing over your gullible and prancing prey—Ellie

“Yeah, and sometimes she doesn’t know what’s good for her. So… I’m sure she did.”

Ouch.

You physically coiled at her words. A dry, pissed scoff fell from your lips. “Fuck you, Dina.” You cursed, leaning back in your chair. Ellie could never do wrong in her eyes—it was obnoxious. Did she have a crush on her or something?

She dryly laughed, shaking her head. “Fuck me?” Dina raised an eyebrow. “Look at her!” She jutted her brown eyes in her direction. “Every time you’re around, she ends up looking that. A wilted fucking flower.” She scolded you, causing you to follow her eyes. Jesse spoke to her with intent eyes. Ellie ran her hands through her hair, eyes shifting side to side. You didn’t know what they were talking about, but it seemed serious. “Just face it, y/n… You’re the common denominator here.”

The common denominator. What an interesting choice of words.

“She’d probably have a better night if you just leave. Go home. Let blondie over there take you home… Or a taxi. I don’t care.” Dina turned her face from you, like you were nothing.

Your hands began to shake and tremble from her words. The muscles in your face twitched and heated up like a furnace—eyes welling up with pained tears. You sniffled, standing up from your chair. Trying every which way not to make a fuss—saving face. She was always such a bitch! So, instead, you rushed to the bathroom with the stiffest posture. Heels stalking by Ellie and Jesse with eyes set on the women’s restroom to unleash your fury.

It was like a gust of wind passing her, Ellie’s words trailed as she unloaded onto Jesse about where her minds been. He was, probably, the only person she could even share it with. Dina didn’t like you very much, she was too emotionally involved. Jesse wasn’t bias and could give her proper advice—it was just up to Ellie if she wanted to follow it or not.

Ellie confessed that the feelings she had for you hadn’t gone away. Something he already knew. But she explained it like an act of a possession—as if the softness of your skin, the beauty of your features, the smell that exuded from you was a spooky presence that just won’t leave her alone. A poltergeist. It was becoming a carnal need the more she saw you.

But what about Cat?

What about her?

Then, on cue, you passed her. Ellie only caught a glimpse of your face. Jaw trembling, the sound of your emotional hiccups. Immediately, her olive eyes shifted to the young woman left at the table. She clenched her jaw, shaking her in disapproval. “Jesse, can you get a fucking handle on her?”

“Easy, Ellie. Don’t talk about her like that. She’s just looking out for you— or trying to.” He told, shifting on his feet. “…And she’s pregnant.”

Her eyes widened. “What?!” Jesse motioned for her to whisper.

“Shh! I wasn’t supposed to say anything. Dina’ll kill me.”

“You guys aren’t even together—“ Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. “Congratulations.” She intoned, running her hand through her hand. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna go check on—“

“Yeah, go ahead. I’ll talk to Dina.”

Meanwhile, you paced around the single person bathroom. Purse thrown to the ground, makeup smudged down your cheeks. Fists clenched at your sides, and every few minutes pounding a spot on your thigh that inflicted enough pain to briefly distract you from the pain inflicted on your heart. Dina doesn’t understand! You’re not a bad person for what happened that day. When will Ellie get the heat for what happened? Why does it always have to be you? It was always your fault.

So much time has passed, meaning you’ve thought about the altercation for a long time. Hell, it was all you thought about at times. You should’ve never put your hands on Ellie that way—you knew that. But, she shouldn’t have pushed you to do it either. That was her mistake. Pushing and prodding at someone she claimed to love. Ellie was aware of that, too. She wrote about it in that letter she hand delivered on her eighteenth birthday.

Wringing your hands out, you heaved. Emotions still weighing heavy on your heart. Her words cut you like a knife—triggering you. Before you met Tommy and Maria Miller, life was so much harder. Everything was your fault and your birth parents—and the numerous foster parents that you had—made sure that you knew that. It wasn’t fair then, and it wasn’t fair now.

What stopped your progressing thoughts was the gentle call of your name, and a soft knock. It was Ellie.

“Go away!” You sniffled, leaning over the sticky sink to get a look at your appearance. It was a tragedy.

“Please, just let me in. I don’t know what Dina said… But, I’m sure it was fucked up— look, she has her reasons.”

“She has her reasons—?!” You exclaim, looking at the door through the reflection.

“But that doesn’t make it right. I know.” You heard her lean against the door. “Please, y/n.”

Wiping your face, you sighed. Sniffling, you walked over to unlock the door, gulping. “It’s unlocked…” You spoke, weakly. Positioning yourself with your back against the sink, you crossed your arms. Watching her push inside the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Ellie pressed her back against the door, observing you with the softest pair of green eyes you’ve ever seen. It was charming. Through her thick eyelashes, pelvis leaning forward—like she was a child in trouble.

“I’m so sorry about Dina. I should’ve never invited you… I just thought things would be different.” She frowned, fiddling with her fingers in front of her body. Her fingernails had chipped black nail polish on them; focusing on that was easier than focusing on her.

“Well…” You dryly chuckled. “You thought wrong.” Slowly, you drag your eyes from her hands, to her face—avoiding her eyes, though. “Apparently, you’d be better off if I left… Or died; if it were Dina’s way.” Your voice trembled, tears falling from the corners of your eyes. Dina didn’t tell you to die, but that’s what her tone told you. All you were doing was existing. If that’s what stressed Ellie out then… Fuck. Maybe you should just croak, huh?

Ellie ran her hands over her face, taking quick steps towards you. “Fuck— I don’t know why she said that.” Her hand ran through her straight hair, frustrated at herself and Dina. “I—… I do want you here. She doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about.” She reaches a hand out for you, but you flinch. There was a slight height difference to the pair of you—your heels caused you to look down at her. But, you weren’t looking down on her.

She was close enough for you to notice the orange-brown flecks in her irises. The ones you missed… So much, and desired wholly. However, you pushed yourself into the ceramic sink, fighting temptation. “Don’t tell me you actually believe what she said?” Her doe eyes looked up at you, demanding a response.

“I don’t know… It’s more than that, Ellie.” You analyze her features as inconspicuously as you could—which wasn’t possible. She noticed everything because she was doing the same thing.

Your bodies drew to each other like the opposite sides of conjoined magnets. Eyes intertwining and overcoming like they always did. Tensions were high, and you were in an enclosed space—your stomach rumbled with anticipation. “Tell me what it is, then.” The feeling of her fingers sliding up the curve of your elbow caused you huff, moving to the toilet to sit down. Cold air replacing where her fingers attempted to tether to you.

Ellie sighed, bunching her hand into a fist at her side. She knew what she was doing—after all, she was a pusher. It was hard to identify when to stop.

You dropped your head into your hands, forcing even breath from your lips. “It’s just… Old shit, okay? Dina struck a nerve.” You glanced at her through your hands, lips quivering.

Ellie took your previous spot, pondering. She knew about your life before your parents—how awful those people treated you; and she couldn’t understand why. You were a scorned person, like most of the kids you grew up with, but underneath it all you were soft. She’s witnessed that softness. And she will regret it for the rest of her life that she was the one to pull you from that that—all for dumb proof of trauma.

She realized too late that she was never alone in that traumatic suffering of the adoption system. After that day, she never wanted to see you hurt like that again. Or at all. Ellie wanted to make everything up to you.

Seeing those tears staining your cheeks; she wanted to kiss it better.

“I’ll talk to her.” The words fled from her mouth. Her old converse squeaked toward you, squatting before your sat figure on the filthy toilet. You turned your head, shutting your eyes and shivering at the thought of her. “Hey,” Her fingers grazed your jaw, pulling your eyes into her line of sight. “I will. She crossed the line— this isn’t my favorite version of you.” Her eyebrows deepened, pressing her lips into a firm line. She wanted to be level with you—not above or below.

Those words were music to your ears. Supple in its raspiness. The warm touch of her fingers on your face, you leaned into her hand. She had a favorite version of you? You reached up, gently gripping her wrist to pull it from you. Ellie shouldn’t have been touching you like this. But, even so, your bodies somehow gravitated toward one another. Eyes staring at each others parted lips, wanting. Needing. Her hand bracing on your thigh, pulling herself closer until your lips met.

Soft and forbidden. You gasped against her mouth, pulling away for a brief moment. Her olive eyes were pleading, and you just couldn’t say no. Being a victim of your flesh, your hand found its way to the back of her neck to pull her lips flush to yours. Mixed whines coming from the both of you; lips merging and meshing together. Creating something beautiful.

Every time you were physical with someone they were missing something. This was it! The passion, the history—the things that matter. The fucking chemistry; it was all there with Ellie. And, deep down, you knew that it was the only place you were going to find it.

She pushed into you, being guided by her carnal desire. Whining and growling into your mouth. Hands gripping at your hips, and the side of your backside. Ellie was hooked under a spell you concocted—some aphrodisiac that exuded from you. And she wanted to breathe more of you in until she couldn’t anymore. She was gluttonous.

Breaking her trance was a rough knock on the bathroom door. The two of you basically jumped apart; you falling into the toilet, nearly touching the water, her falling on the floor. Some of the glitter on your lips had rubbed off onto hers—it looked nice on her, but that was besides the point.

“Some people need to piss! Get out of the fucking bathroom!” Some heavy handed woman exclaimed from the other side.

A smile spread on her lips, hazy eyes watching as you pulled yourself up. “Fuck, Ellie. Why are you smiling?” You walk to the mirror, taking a look at yourself. You and Ellie had just kissed. The same Ellie who’s girlfriend is waiting for her back at the guesthouse. The pressure was already hitting you like a ton of bricks—Ellie was right, you had a terrible poker face. How could you forget about this? “Can you hand me that?” You pointed to the purse beside her.

She chuckled, standing up from the floor. Your purse was in her hand as she walked up behind you, handing it over. Her other snaking around your hips—clearly, still overcome. Taking the purse, you smack her hand away. “Enough!” You scold, deepening your eyebrows. She pouted, crossing her arms. Leaning her back against the wall, shutting her eyes. But it was soon replaced with a smirk.

Your fingers rummaged through your purse for your lipgloss. “This didn’t happen… This never happened…” You muttered to yourself. Once you found the sparkling tube, you began to apply it like a nervous tick. “I still don’t know what you keep finding so funny— nobody can find out about this, Ellie.” You turn to her, dropping your lipgloss back into your purse. “What just happened isn’t fucking funny—“

You were a homewrecker, a thief of girlfriends—watch out New York!

“You’re spiraling.”

“Yeah, and I have every reason to. This isn’t me. I’m not this person. You have a girlfriend!”

Ellie watched you ramble with a look of in awe in her eyes—you were fucked, and so was she. “I remember…” She couldn’t compel herself to care about the repercussions of hr actions; Ellie just wanted you. Even more now than before. She was given an inch, and she was ready to take a mile. Perhaps, longer if that was possible. Your ethics only made her want you more.

The glitter on her lips distracted you, causing you to reach your thumbs near her lips to wipe away the signs of you. Her wide eyes looked up at you, hands wrapping around your wrists. Where did she learn this type of behavior from? VHS porn?“Ellie, will you quit it?!” You stomped your foot, squeezing your eyes. “Fuck me.” You whisper to yourself, adjusting your purse.

“I’ll see you at home…” You mutter, placing your hand on the door handle.

“Am I not driving you?”

“No. You’re gonna stay here, mingle—fuck, I don’t care.” You shook your head. “Abby’s gonna take me home.” The words rushed from your lips because you were thinking and speaking at the same time. You needed an alibi and that’s what Abby was going to be.

The auburn-haired woman rolled her eyes, scoffing under her breath. Jealousy peaking inside of her like it did earlier. “Abby. Abby… The buff blonde you walked into the bar with— the one who was feelin’ you up.” She popped the p sound, nodding her head with searching eyes.

“She wasn’t feeling me up. I don’t think you know what feeling up looks like.”

“Show me, then.”

Your jaw almost dropped from its hinges, gasping at the woman before you. She was shameless, and you were the complete opposite—it was a recipe for disaster. “Like I said… I’ll see you at home.” You opened the door, slipping through to allow her some privacy. The people must’ve opted for the men’s restroom. Fucking freak. You thought, fighting the amused smile off your lips.

Adjusting your top, you approached Abby’s booth. She was surrounded by familiar faces—you knew them-ish. “Abs, can I talk to you for a second?” She looked up at you, blinking with slight confusion at your state.

“Oh, hi, y/n!” A short-haired woman grinned, wiggling her fingers at you.

You smiled at her, while Abby shimmied out of the booth. Taking her hand, you led her away from her friends, keeping her large hand in yours as you began to speak. “I know it’s early, but could you take me home? Like, now?”

She deepened her eyebrows, a hand dropping to your face, wiping at the mascara stains that had run down your cheeks. “Are these tears?” She bunched her eyebrows, gripping your chin and moving your head side to side. “I saw you run to the bathroom—“

“It’s not important, all right?” Your eyes peer up at the blonde woman, pressing your lips into a line. Pleading and batting your eyes at her—you really wanted to go home. And you weren’t necessarily doing it for Dina, it was more so because of her. As well as the fact that you had just made out with a woman who was spoken for. Whose girlfriend who is only ten minutes away, and who also offered to get champagne for Thanksgiving after you mentioned its absence. It was currently, probably, chilling in the fridge as all of this unfolded.

While you semi-sensually begged the woman to drive you home in her Jaguar, Ellie had gotten herself together in the bathroom. After you left, she released a joyful laugh once the door shut behind you. As if she had finished with making out with the hottest girl in school—very teenage-like. Her cheeks were flushed, blushing a warm mahogany through her freckles. You wanted her just as much as she wanted you; the kid proved that much.

But, then, a pang of guilt settled in the pit of her stomach. A fragment. Very small and minuscule.

It wasn’t right away; Ellie was certain that you thought of her to be cold based on how she was handling the situation. She had a girlfriend and found the situation amusing? You’re right—nothing was funny about what happened before you fell into the toilet and before she fell onto the floor. The both of you had managed to dig yourselves into a hole that she didn’t want to get out of. And she was sure you felt the same—she hoped you felt the same. Holes were fun, right?

Ellie wanted to keep digging deeper, and deeper, and deeper. She wanted to envelop herself with you, just like she used to. However, this time, she wasn’t planning on letting you go.

Cat was just something—someone she had to deal with in the meantime. She’s gonna fix it… Ellie just doesn’t know how, right now. She can’t think straight. Pun intended.

Leaving the bathroom, she checked her cell. Noticing the few messages her girlfriend had left her during the short period of time she had you to herself. Her avoidant nature caused her to skim them, then slap her phone shut.

“Everything good?” Jesse questioned, watching as she approached the table.

Ellie shoved her phone into her front pocket. “Yeah… Everything’s fine.” Her olive eyes averted to Dina. “Dude…?” She squinted her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Els. I went too far, I know.”

“I’m glad you know.” She sat in her chair, glancing over at you talking to the buff blonde. “What you said was fucked up, and I should be more mad at you, right now…”

She sighed, pouting her lips. “Well, thank you for your mercy, sire.” A smile creeped onto her lips.

“Dina,” Ellie narrowed her eyes, shaking her head.

Jesse side-eyed her, pressing his lips into an unimpressed line. She looked over at him, lips parting. “Just tryin’ to lighten up the mood. Excuse me.” Dina deepened her eyebrows, sliding down in her chair.

Ellie chortled, shaking her head once more, making sure to swing it far to get a glance at you. She watched you follow Abby back to her booth, telling them that you were leaving. Her hand guiding you, rubbing circles on the back of your hand. Fuck, that should’ve been Ellie. She hated watching you lean into her like that—shrinking yourself. That wasn’t you.

You were bold, opinionated, and despite your strict upbringing, you never shrunk. If anything, Maria and Tommy’s parenting gave you confidence. That used to intimidate Ellie, but it didn’t anymore. It influenced her.

As you walked out with Abby, Ellie gave an awkward wave, but you snapped your head in the other direction. You needed to clean your pallet, and that’s exactly what you were planning to do in that shiny black Jaguar.

When the door opened, the brisk, autumn air hit you, cooling your body down. But your mind was still set on using Abby as a cleanser—a handkerchief to wipe you of your mistakes.

You feigned a straightforward destination, giving her the address of your childhood home. But, halfway, you told her to pull over onto a dark dirt path. She made a joke, asking: Is this where you kill me and steal my car?

And you respond, full of need: I don’t want your stupid fucking car. I want you. Launching yourself over the center console, wrapping your arms around her face. You swing one of your legs over to straddle her in the driver’s seat. Hips grinding against her, shoving your tongue down her throat like she was going to leave you. Although, she wasn’t going anywhere—not with you on her lap, anyway.

Abby groaned into your mouth, gripping your ass over your jeans, pushing you harder against her. Messily, you begin to trail your lips down her jaw, toward the softness of her neck. Urgently nibbling at her skin. “Fuck, you’re eager…” Abby muttered through her heavy breathing. “I like this version of you.”

This isn’t my favorite version of you. Ellie’s voice echoed in your head. It frustrated you.

Warmth built up under the crotch of your jeans; the thick seam doing very little for the pleasure you wanted. “Please, Abby…” You breathed into her ear, tugging at the silver ring through her cartilage. “Touch me.” Reaching for her hand, you place between your legs, cupping her hand as she groped you. Meeting her eyes, you taunted her, chewing on your bottom lip.

The blonde didn’t hesitate, unbuttoning your jeans and shoving her hand inside. She was always quick to give rather than receive—listening to any command you spoke. As the pads of her fingers contact with where you needed her the most, you sighed. “You’re so wet for me already…”

It was debatable whether it was for her or not. With your eyes squeezed shut, you imagined the earthy, olive eyes of your past lover. The softness of the her lips. The desperation in which she put her all into pleasing you—it was experienced before. But, at that point, you were amateurs. So much has changed since then. You were curious how much, though. “All for you.” You whined, rocking your hips against her hand. Lying through your teeth.

She pressed two fingers into you, pushing a moan from your throat. Hands gripping her shoulders, bracing your weight. You imagined them to be her fingers curling deep inside of you—pulling sounds from you like a puppeteer.

You were worser than you thought.

Abby was supposed to be a pallet cleanser, but instead she was just a vessel for your horny fantasies.

The palm of her hand rubbed against your clit, pushing you closer to an edge you wanted to fall off of. A tightness built in the pit of your stomach—burning like a prosperous flame; standing by to erupt. “Ah… Fuck, yes!” You lewdly affirmed, fingers gripping the roots of her hair, back arching into her. The smell of lavender shampoo wafting into your nose from how close you were.

Ellie would never wash her hair with lavender shampoo. She stuck to sweeter, muskier smells. The one’s you liked.

Your legs trembled around her hips, jolting with every stroke and thrust. Her ministrations intensifying causing the sounds from your lips to get louder, laced with desire. “Abby,” You trembled with a warning tone. “I’m g—gonna… Fuck, I’m comi—“ Your choppy words are cut off with the snapping of a band in your stomach—spreading over you like a brisk gust of wind. Shocking your body into a brief state of paralysis against her strong frame.

She coax’s you through your orgasm, with that same come hither motion that got you there to begin with. Although, she was so quiet. That’s when clarity hit you, as you shakily rocked against her hand. Reaching down, you grip her wrist, kissing the pressure point under her ear. “Can you check the time f’me?” You sweetly ask, still subtly, rutting against her.

Abby checked the watch on her wrist. “Eleven-something.” She hummed into your neck.

“Eleven-somethin’, huh?” You tease, lifting off her, trying to settle back into the passenger seat. “I should probably get home…” You zipped and buttoned your pants. Normally, you’d be eager to return the favor, but your plan didn’t work—and, frankly, that irritated you. That nerdy, auburn-haired, freckled woman, that you knew so well, had burrowed herself under your skin already. It was a recipe for disaster.

There was a twitch in Abby’s brow at your sudden departure from her. She felt that bite of coldness; it was something she wasn’t used to. Nonetheless, she drove you home. With you leaning on the window, watching dark, shedding trees pass you by. All the way until you felt that familiar shift from side to side as you cruised over the gravel that led to your childhood home.

“How long are you gonna be here for?” You asked as she pulled to a stop, where Ellie’s car was previously parked. It was out of courtesy to wonder; these parts of town wasn’t really for people like her.

“Until the end of the week, then back to work.” She turned toward you, pushing her hair behind her ear. “When am I gonna see you again?” Record scratch. Abby Anderson has never asked you that. She was always aloof and carefree. I’m too busy. Let me check my schedule.

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your lips. “I’m really tying to spend some time with my family, but— uhm… I’ll call you, okay?” Leaning over the console, you place a lush smooch on her lips—riding on the confidence from her lack thereof.

Getting out of her expensive car, you adjust your clothing before walking into your house. Thankfully, the lights were off, meaning your parents were asleep. Thank, God. You looked awful, and you preferred not to be questioned on your state, Ellie’s whereabouts, and who took you home.

Gently, you shut the door behind you, keys jiggling in your hand. Slipping out of your heels, you tiptoed toward the fridge just to prove something to yourself. The white light from the fridge illuminated your deadpanned expression as two tall bottles of champagne sat on the second shelf. Nobody likes champagne that much. You rolled your eyes, scoffing under your breath.

Cat didn’t deserve any of what happened tonight, and you hated that.

When you got to your bedroom, you wasted no time to peel the clothes from your body. Falling atop of your mattress like a starfish. Before you slipped under the covers, you pulled your laptop onto your stomach to log into your MySpace. There was a red notification on your activity icon. When you click on it, StarlightWilliams had added you back—you were mutuals now. The pads of your fingers touched your lips, remembering the softness of hers from that moment in the bathroom. The pressure of her slender fingers gripping your sides—wistfully you sighed, slumping your head against the fluffy pillows and stuffed animals against your headboard.

Suddenly, your computer makes a sound—a ping. You sit up, squinting at the incoming notification.

kit_cat79 wants to be your friend!

What a coincidence. The website exposes whether you were online or not—you couldn’t hide from her. So, you decided to add her back. Cat’s picture was of her with her tongue out, dark bangs styled to the side. You didn’t realize that she had a tongue piercing—could she get any cooler? Maybe you should get a tongue piercing.

Her mood hadn’t been recently updated, but it was: Optimistic.

Her bio didn’t over explain much, but said more than her freckled counterpart: my name is cat and i do tattoo’s !! message me for inquiries (or ur a loser). Your eyes and cursor skimmed her account, not paying attention to the smaller details. Quickly, you navigated to the pictures and videos. There were some pieces of her work, candids of Ellie, pictures of her at band shows—

kit_cat79: hey… i know it’s late, but that was you who just got back, right?

The messages appeared at the bottom left corner of the screen, blinking green.

BugsWritersRoom: Hey, yeah. That was me…

Duh.

kit_cat79: i thought you went with ellie in her truck. also… where is she? she’s not answering my texts.

Was she worried about her? Or was her questioning coming from a place of distrust? Or, a secret third option... you had a bad case of paranoia.

BugsWritersRoom: She’s still at TB. I’m sure she’s just distracted catching up with Jesse and Dina.

kit_cat79: oh…

kit_cat79: that was some car you pulled up in...

She was wanting to start conversation, but you were too tired. You didn’t want to think about, or talk to another person about Abby. Let alone, talk about her with Cat. No offense. Sleep is the only time when your mind was going to finally rest, and you can resume thinking tomorrow.

Leaving her message on seen, you shut your laptop, pushing it to the side. You took Cat’s message as a sign to shut it down, reaching to click your lamp off.

You allowed sleep to take over, cuddling into your pillows as if it were a body. Hitching your leg over it, tugging it to your chest. Could you have been more evident in your loneliness? In your restless dreams, your brain scoured for something to show you. Something relevant, of course.

Olive eyes, freckles, prominent beauty mark—it was obvious what images it was looking for. Ellie.

By the time the sun lingered on the horizon, a tragic alarming song sang in unison to wake you—the sound of your ancient alarm, and the sound of the rooster sat atop of the chicken coop. Groaning into the pillow you held, squinting your eyes open. It had pulled you from a dream that was… Certainly, a dream. It was untoward, lewd; just straight up nasty.

There was a wetness between your legs that was the first to get your attention. Out of shameful curiosity, you reached your hand under your shorts; hoping it wasn’t your period suprising you. Pulling your fingers out, there was an absence of the dark hue that was a symbol of your menstrual cycle. It was fairly clear, shiny, and slick. You were a victim of a wet dream. How juvenile.

The sight of it only made your hornier. So, while you still had time, you jumped for one of the bags you brought. You were expected for morning chores, but there was always time to rub one out.

Taking the battery-powered silver bullet from you bag, you attempt to switch it on but it doesn’t respond. You even switch the batteries around, blowing into the port. “Come on…” You complain, but it still it doesn’t adhere to you.

You groan, falling back into your pillows. There was nothing wrong with going old school, but you were a creature of habit.

Sliding your hand down your body, you slip under your shorts and underwear. It didn’t take long for you to completely rouse yourself, blinking your eyes shut to fall into your imagination. Usually, the best material was your most recent hookup—or some celebrity crush that you couldn’t get over.

The movement of your finger mirrored a strong blonde who always aimed to please you. You could imagine yourself gripping her long, silky hair, pushing her into your pussy—devouring you. Feeling her hands gripping your thighs, anchoring them to the mattress.

You relished in the feeling that was slowly washing over you. So much so that when the image of blonde hair began to fade and be replaced by short auburn strands, you barely noticed. Subconsciously, replicating the dream that kept you snug as a bug all through the night.

Your ministrations quickened as you neared finality. Bottom lip slipping between your teeth. Soft, repressed moans sneaking through them as your hand clutched your breast, thumbing your sensitive nipple. The serotonin levels increasing with every swipe and slide. Fuck, El—

Downstairs, the artist peeled dried paint from her fingers, waiting for you. Staying out late knowing she had to get up for chores was a huge mistake. There were many mistakes that happened last night. Another being, ignoring Cat’s messages. Ellie pulled into the driveway not too much later than you—it was nearing one o’clock.

When she entered the guesthouse, shrugging off her jacket—with a mind busier than New York City herself—Cat was found in the small living room. With her thin eyebrows bunched together and her arms crossed over her chest. Dressed in nothing but a fitted tank top and cheeky underwear.

Ellie had looked at her with a stressed look, “What are you still doing up?” Walking past her to the bedroom to undress and unwind. Cat scoffed, following her to the bedroom. Slippered feet stomping behind the artist.

“What am I doing up?!” She chided, twitching toward her. “I’ve been texting you all night, Ellie. You couldn’t respond to one?”

The freckled woman plopped onto her side of the bed, kicking off her shoes. She pretty much saw the messages as they were coming in; Ellie just didn’t have the nerve to respond. She didn’t feel like it. Not after what happened in the bathroom—she couldn’t come back from that. Hell, she didn’t want to come back from that. The only image replaying in her mind was your lips on hers. Your hands imbedded in her hair. The wanton sounds coming from you that she wanted to hear on again, and again, and again. That feeling of being between your legs...

And, let’s not even get into how it felt to see you leave with Abby. That ruined her whole night. Not even Jesse could cheer her up.

She ran a hand through her hair, looking over her shoulder with a tired expression. “Babe, I’m sorry, okay?” She began, standing to her feet to remove her jeans. “We just got too carried away talkin’ and whatnot.” Walking to the bathroom in the bedroom, she shed her shirt from her body. Ellie found it too easy to lie—she’s always been good at it. And, Cat was pretty gullible. But she had to throw a monkey wrench in there to really calm her down.

“Turns out… Jesse got Dina pregnant.”

“What?”

She turned on the shower, then peaked out of the doorway. “Yeah, how crazy is that?”

The tattooed girl fell onto the edge of the bed, eyes casting toward the ground, full of uncertainty. “Super crazy…”

Noticing the subtle dejection in her features, Ellie sighed. Leaving the doorframe as the shower ran hot in the background. She appeared before her, reaching her hand down to lift her chin. “Kitty Cat,” Her voice was soft and oh, so forgiving. “I should’ve responded to your texts— I’m an asshole. Let me make it up to you…” She sultrily offered, caressing the softness of her chin with her thumb.

And that’s what she did. Ellie made it up to her girlfriend of almost a year. By fucking her in the shower hard enough to make her forget about all of her uncertainties.

She had a long night.

This morning, she got up an hour earlier to get a better start on her sketch—she even started incorporating her oil paints. That’s what was stuck to her hands. The coloring in of her portrait of you in front of that shed. She felt the need to freeze that moment in time; where you embraced each other in the arms of company for the first time in too long. That hazardous kiss you shared in that sticky bathroom at the Tipsy Bison inspired her to color in the lines.

“I normally hear her up and movin’ around… She’s taking longer than I thought she would.” Maria commented, munching on a buttered bagel. “How long were you two out last night?”

Ellie inhaled, lifting her eyebrows in thought. “I got back around one, but y/n came back earlier than I did. She got a ride from a friend.” She shrugged, the ends of her lips curling, mischievously. “I think her name’s… Abby.” Ellie added, glancing between the two parents.

“Hm. What made her leave early—?” Tommy began to ask, but he stopped himself. He frowned, leaning his elbows on the counter, peering at the auburn-haired woman across from him. “How’s Dina doin’?”

She chuckled. “Still pissed, if that’s what you’re getting at?” Ellie went from peeling paint off her fingers, to fiddling with them. “They got into a bit of a…”

“Fight?” The blonde woman questioned, deepening her arched eyebrows. She never liked hearing about you fighting—or seeing it. That was a strictness Maria was never going to get rid of. Tommy used to get into fights a lot, finding himself locked behind iron bars at the county jail. But that was years before he moved to New York. When he still lived in Texas with Joel.

“No.” Ellie bunched her eyebrows in defense, shaking her head. “It was an argument, but it didn’t last long. I handled it.”

Steps sounded from the stairs, silencing the three. Pairs of eyes peered up the stairs, hoping that it was you stalking down the steps—but it wasn’t. When he began clearing his throat and coughing, loudly, they knew it was Joel. “Goddamnit…” Tommy rolled his eyes, slapping his hand against his thighs.

“Good mornin’ to you, too, Tommy.” Joel scoffed.

He huffed, licking his lips. Just like you did when you grew irritated—Tommy’s antics had rubbed off on you. “Is there any signs of life from my kids' room—? Because she should’ve been down here five minutes ago.” He looked to Joel before glancing at his watch. “Maria and I planned for her to teach Ellie how to do our grocery shipments.”

“Grocery shipments?” Ellie cast her earthy eyes toward Maria.

“It’s a lot of information, but I’m sure you’ll catch on just fine, Ellie.” She placed her hand atop of hers, pressing her lips into a smile. “If only your teacher could be timely…” Maria sighed.

The freckled artist stood up straight, pursing her lips. “I can go check and see if she’s up…” She offered, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’m sure she is— maybe she just needs a little nudge. I had rough time this mornin’, too.” To be frank, offering to grab you from the second floor of the house was clouded with selfish intentions. Ellie hadn’t seen your bedroom since she was seventeen. She couldn’t help but wonder if anything had changed.

And, she wanted a useful reason to talk to you.

Your parents are wondering what the hell you’re doing— also, how was our kiss from 1-10?

Hey, you’re supposed to be teaching me about grocery shipments, right now— hypothetically, would you kiss me again… Or?

She was such a loser for you; she always has been. “If you don’t mind. I’m sure she’d appreciate seeing you more than me.” Tommy chuckled, nudging his wife but she barely broke a smile. Staring her husband down with icy, blue eyes.

Ellie’s eyebrows twitched, but she decided not to interact with whatever happened there. Quickly, moving to the stairs to find you.

What she could remember about your room was the pink wallpaper and the posters. You used to be very persistent in upgrading old ones for new ones—saving the old ones in your closet. She found it amusing how you could never get over anything; you liked to collect things. As many things as possible—posters, collectors items, superhero figurines—you were an undercover geek!

The fascination you had with catwoman was insane. But, understandable.

The stairs of your home was guided by many picture frames. Pictures of you lining the walls. The bottom starting with photos of you when you still went heavy on the eyeliner and hairspray; gradually preceding with much happier images of you. The final photo being the whole family together, including Ellie. It was taken after your college graduation, in front of the house. You were sandwiched between your grinning parents while Joel and Ellie were on both ends; her sporting a timid smile, and him grinning just like his brother.

She was so proud of you that day, but didn’t dare to enunciate that how she really wanted to. At the time, the shoulder you gave her was ice cold. Brisker than the harsh weather of the east coast.

When she emerged at the top step, the first door in front of the stairs was cracked open. But that wasn’t your bedroom, that was your parents’ bedroom. Down the hall, to the right, after passing an open floor planned media space, was the guest room. Where Joel was spending his nights. A little further down that hall was your bedroom.

It was the best spot in the house. Your bedroom have the best view of the front of the house, and was far enough from the prying ears of curious parents.

Neither you or Ellie were innocent teenagers—you both couldn’t wait to get some alone time, and you couldn’t keep your hands off each other once you started. It was the perfect place for late night shenanigans.

Again, some things never change, huh?

Strolling toward your door, Ellie raises her hand to give a soft knock. But she pauses at the faint sounds coming from under your door. Breathy whines, the light rocking of your old, rickety bed frame. Could she hear just how wet you were from outside your door?

She leaned closer to the brown door, her bottom lip slotting between her teeth. Ellie wanted to be sure she was hearing correctly, of course. She heard you cursing and swearing, but nothing shocked her more than when she heard you squeak her name. “Fuck, Ellie…”

Apparently, Ellie wasn’t the only one who was overcome. Wanton sounds filled her ears like a mantra before she decided to interfere. Knock, knock! She heard you gasp.

“It’s Ellie... Your parents are gonna throw bitch-fits in T-minus five minutes if you’re not downstairs soon.” Ellie kept herself composed, using her hand to hold her weight against the wall. She heard you shuffling behind your door, cursing under your breath.

“I’ll be down in, like, five minutes!” You shout, the sound of quick maneuvering being heard from Ellie’s side of the door.

She wanted you to open the door, just to get a glimpse of that blissed out look on your face—Ellie anticipated that flustered look. Forgetting about her own blushing cheeks after hearing you say her name while touching yourself. She felt like a fucking king.

Stuffing her hands into her pockets, she walked to the media space. Lifting up CDs, VHS tapes, and eyeing thick books that haven’t been touched in years to pass the time. Fuck, Ellie—still played in her mind like a record. There wasn’t any scratching, only smooth playing; no interruptions.

When you appeared from your room, dressed in your working cowboy boots, a long-sleeve Abercrombie shirt and bootcut jeans—there was a shit-eating grin that just wouldn’t leave her face. Ellie turned around to lay her eyes on you, unable to help but ogle. “Do you have a condition that you’re not mentioning? Perhaps, a tumor—? Since you can’t help yourself when it comes to laughing…” You grumble, placing your hands on your hips.

Your words only made her smile more. The more time the two of you spent together, the more snarky you were becoming—she missed that. “Turns out, under some circumstances… I can be a morning person. Some circumstances.” She muttered, mainly to herself but she didn't mind if you heard. Ellie deliberated with herself on whether she was going to expose what she heard you say… Or, if she was going to hold onto it. Similar to how victorians put the hair of their lover’s into lockets.

“Whatever, Els.” You rolled your eyes, loosely calling her by that nickname, again. Ignoring the harshness of her eyes, you passed her to descend the wooden stairs. There was still a mindless sleepiness to you. It was charming to your past lover, as she followed behind you—floating on air. Thinking about how great of an idea it was to come back this year.

And, still, Ellie was barely harbored with guilt. Even more so when she inspected your features, intently. When her thoughts wandered into the gutters of her creative mind—spreading you wide in all of your glory.

taglist: @autisticintr0vert , @liasxeatt , @hopingforgoodblogs , @lia-winther , @macaroni676 , @tobiotruther , @anewkindofloove , @fatbootymuncher (i love your user lmao) , @maiaska

[libraryofgage]

Good Vibrations Part One

Hello, it's me, back at it again with another Steddie AU.

Anyway, if I were tagging this AU, these would be the most important ones: Deaf Steve Harrington; Tooth-rotting Fluff; Getting Together

If you wanna be tagged in future parts, just let me know!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

----

Steve has blown through three pairs of hearing aids in the past year. The first pair had lasted a few years and needed replacement because of normal wear and tear. The second pair was sacrificed during that fight with Jonathan. He hadn't been wearing them, but they'd been in Steve's pocket, and he'd landed at just the right angle to feel them shatter. The third pair was taken by the Russians because, despite Robin's shouting and cursing at them for being dumbasses (and this was before she actually knew what they were for), they accused him of recording their kidnapping and torture.

Honestly, he wouldn't recommend fighting Russians and Billy and Mind Flayers and driving while nearly totally deaf.

The funniest part of it all, though, is that Steve doesn't even use hearing aids regularly. He normally only wears them at home. The pair lost to Jonathan were present because, well, that whole day had been a lot for Steve, and he needed the comfort of knowing he could stop reading lips the moment it became too exhausting for him. The pair lost to the Russians was because he'd been getting ready to tell Robin about being deaf. She'd already clocked the weird things he does (well, weird to her, normal to Steve), and he figured letting her in on the big secret would bring them a little closer.

Of course, that didn't go the way he expected. Robin thought he was confessing love and decided to beat him to the punch. That's how he learned Robin is a lesbian, and Steve couldn't let her be the only one admitting to something like that, so he told her about being bi and his long-standing, hopeless crush. And being deaf. But the bi with a crush thing seemed more important in the moment. She took it in stride, it brought them closer, and then Robin asked if Steve could teach her sign language.

Which meant that Steve had to learn sign language because he never had. Between not wanting to feel even more different than he already did and trying to convince his parents that, really, everything was fine and he didn't need to go to a special school for deaf and hard-of-hearing kids, he'd never learned. Learning it had somehow felt like an admission of weakness, and that was the last thing he wanted. But he learned for Robin, and they stumbled through sign language together, creating new signs only they knew.

But that's all in the past now, and Steve is working his ass off at Family Video to afford a new pair because he refuses to ask his parents for money. If he asks them, they'll come back, and that's the last thing he wants. They don't need to have all their worries confirmed that Steve is helpless, and he doesn't want them anywhere near Hawkins "Hellscape" Indiana.

So. Working his ass off, taking extra shifts, and babysitting the kids as much as he can to make up for the whole Friends and Family Discount he gives their parents. He's exhausted, but he gets to recharge somewhat during his lunch break.

About a ten-minute walk from the Family Video is a record store, which Steve has started visiting daily to just breathe. The lone worker in the store is usually too busy listening to her own music to pay Steve any attention, letting him wander and try to determine which records will best serve him.

Steve drifts over to the rock and heavy metal section, hoping to find a new album but unsurprised when he doesn't. He browses through them anyway, moving past Metallica and Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden. He already has all of these albums on his shelf at home. He has the cassette tapes for them, too.

But he really wants something new. He likes the novelty of experiencing unfamiliar vibrations through the speaker, letting them thrum through his fingertips and into his bones. It's fun and relaxing, and after all the bullshit he's been through lately, he probably deserves something relaxing.

After glancing over a few more familiar albums, Steve sighs and glances at the counter by the door. The lone worker is standing there, headphones over her ears, and idly flipping through a magazine. She's chewing gum, and Steve braces himself for the sheer hell of trying to read her lips without making it obvious he's reading her lips while she's got something in her mouth to disrupt the normal shape of words and sounds.

But he has to try. Steve takes one more deep breath before walking over, shoving his hands into his pockets when he comes to a stop at the counter. The girl raises a hand, motioning for him to wait, so he stays quiet as she finishes reading her page. She flips to the next one before looking up, not making any move to pull her headphones off.

"Hi. Do you have any new rock or metal albums coming in soon," Steve asks, feeling the vibrations of speech in his throat and hoping his words aren't too loud.

They don't seem to be. The girl doesn't flinch or pull back. She just looks him up and down, taking in the polo shirt and the nice khakis and the Family Video vest he forgot to take off before leaving. Finally, her neck and shoulders jerk slightly, and Steve knows she's huffed in annoyance. "No," she says, the word clear enough in the shape of her lips for Steve to know it immediately.

He frowns slightly, his fingernails digging into his palms. Steve wouldn't mind just leaving now, but something keeps him there. He just...he really wants new music. He needs something new. "Are there gonna be any shows nearby?" he asks.

The girl rolls her eyes and says something, her mouth distorted by gum-chewing. Steve can barely make out the words "you" and "check" from her response. Thankfully, it's accompanied by a vague gesture at something behind him. Steve looks over his shoulder to see a bulletin board with flyers plastered across it.

"Right. Thanks," he says, nodding to her before walking over. The flyers are all different colors with various fonts that scream for Steve's attention. Some of them are for bands, some are advertisements of garage sales or instruments in need of a new home, and others are just business flyers from stores nearby.

He's seen the bulletin board before, but he's never actually paid attention to it. Steve has always been laser-focused on browsing the records. But now, Steve carefully reviews each flyer advertising shows. Some are for comedy shows, which he immediately dismisses. One seems promising, but then he sees how far it is, and Steve definitely can't do an overnight trip like that.

Finally, Steve sees a flyer advertising a show at the Hideout later that week. It's close enough that he won't be out overnight. The place is kind of seedy, but Steve figures he can find some corner near the stage to hide. Or he can bring Robin and let her help him navigate any potential social situations. He tugs the flyer off the board, gaze lingering on the "Corroded Coffin" emblazoned across the top.

He knows the band. Of course, he knows the band. He's extremely familiar with their singer. From a distance. Honestly, Eddie Munson probably doesn't have the best impression of him, but Steve's heart never really cared about that. Because Eddie is like everything Steve wants to be: he's loud and unafraid of being so, he doesn't care about his image and how others perceive him, and he looks like his laugh sounds beautiful. Steve wouldn't know if he's actually right about that last point, but Eddie throws his head back when he laughs, eyes crinkled and hand over his stomach like his muscles ache.

His mouth suddenly feels dry, but he's also filled with unprecedented courage. Steve has graduated (barely), and that means a significantly lower chance of running into Eddie during the day if watching the show somehow goes wrong.

Steve folds the flyer into quarters and stuffs it into his back pocket. He'll be overly aware of it being there until Robin starts her shift and he can show it to her, but that's okay. He throws a quick thanks over his shoulder as he leaves the shop, glancing up at the bell he can't hear that signals the door's opening. He vaguely remembers what bells are supposed to sound like (he'd heard a few before losing the ability to hear them), but he doesn't let himself dwell on it.

Instead, he focuses on the trip back to Family Video, keeping an eye on the road to watch for any cars he wouldn't notice otherwise.

----

When the final bell rings, Eddie Munson can't get out of class fast enough. He'd been packed for the last five minutes, and he slid out of his seat the moment that first peal rang out. He has a gig to prepare for, and every second counts. At least, each second counts until he notices something (or someone) that could prove entertaining for a while.

He spots Dustin alone near one of the exits, and Eddie decides to relieve the kid of his isolation. He waits until he's behind Dustin to shout, "Henderson!" and throw his arm over the kid's shoulders, ignoring the way he jumps like he'd been expecting an attack.

"Holy shit!" Dustin shrieks, jerking back to look up at Eddie. "Don't do that, man, you're gonna give me a heart attack."

Eddie snorts, waving away Dustin's concern as he continues toward the exit. The general flow of students trying to get out helps him along, and Dustin doesn't seem to realize they're actually moving until they've gotten into direct sunlight. "You're fine," Eddie says, "Anyway, whatcha doing all alone, Henderson? Lose your way?"

"No, I have...stuff to do today," Dustin says, shrugging as he blinks to acclimate to the sunlight.

Oh, yeah, way too cryptic for Eddie to not dig for more. "Stuff? What kinda stuff? Got a hot date? Going shopping with your mom?" he asks, and then he gasps dramatically and moves to stand in Dustin's way. He puts both hands on his shoulders and very seriously says, "Be honest, Henderson, you're seeing another DM, aren't you?"

Dustin stares at him for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and shrugging his hands off. "Who else in this town DMs?" he asks, "Other than Will, I guess, but he's still working on a campaign."

"Fair," Eddie concedes, "so, whatcha really doing?"

After a few seconds of getting nudged by the students around them, Dustin sighs and says, "I have chores, okay? But that doesn't sound cool to say, does it?"

Fair. Eddie nods in agreement and moves out of Dustin's way, continuing to follow him. "So, what, your mom picking you up today?" he asks.

"No, Steve."

"Oh, the famous Steve."

Dustin nods, looking over the parking lot before pointing to one end. "Yeah, he's awesome," Dustin says as Eddie follows the direction of his finger.

And standing there, leaning against the hood of his car and looking to the side where a group of trees is swaying in the breeze, is Steve Harrington. Steve "The Hair" Harrington. King Steve. The worst thing, Eddie thinks, is that Steve looks good. His hair is still perfect, of course, and his stupid little striped shirt is pulling against his biceps and riding up just enough for Eddie to see a tiny sliver of tanned skin above his jeans. He looks a little tense, but Eddie chalks that up to him being back on the campus after already graduating.

"Harrington? You've been talking about Steve Harrington this whole time?" Eddie asks, his voice a little strained, "How the fuck do you know Steve Harrington?"

"He's my babysitter," Dustin says, his voice implying that much should have been obvious, but Eddie wants to grab his shoulders and shake until his head rolls off.

Steve Harrington doesn't babysit. He doesn't know nerds that talk about D&D. He doesn't drive nerds around. At least, he never did in high school. Granted, Eddie never actually talked to Steve, but everybody knew that Steve Harrington was too cool for, well, anything that wasn't the typical jock and popular guy shit.

As he's thinking about the last time he saw Steve Harrington (in the halls, while the guy had bruises and looked worse for wear), they get within shouting distance. And Eddie has zero impulse control when Wayne isn't around, so he doesn't think before shouting, "Hey, Harrington!"

Next to him, Dustin whips his head to glare at Eddie. And Steve Harrington doesn't fucking react. He just keeps staring at that group of trees like it's the most fascinating thing in the world. "Dude," Dustin says, grabbing Eddie's arm and yanking harshly, "don't shout like that."

Eddie frowns, anger beginning to simmer in his stomach at the complete lack of acknowledgment. "Why are you upset with me?" he asks, gesturing at Steve as he continues, "I'm not the one being a douchebag here."

Dustin opens his mouth, about to say something, only to snap it shut once more. He frowns like he's just realized he can't say something, and huffs with frustration. "Just...just don't do that," he finally says, keeping a hand on Eddie's arm and dragging him across the parking lot. And, yeah, something is definitely weird here.

Instead of just walking up to Steve, they make a large arch until they're within Steve's line of sight.

Eddie watches as Steve notices them, seeing Dustin first and pushing off the car. He relaxes for a split second until he sees Eddie and his shoulders tense again.

Great.

Once they're close enough for Eddie to count the moles above the collar of Steve's shirt, Dustin grins and says, "Hey, Steve." But it's odd, because Eddie has never heard Dustin talk this slow or this carefully, like he's doing his best to enunciate his words.

Steve flashes a grin and ruffles Dustin's hair. "Hey, twerp, you're late," he says. He then glances at Eddie, his grin becoming a little smaller, and says, "Hey, Munson."

Wait. Steve Harrington knows Eddie's name? And he called him by it? He said Munson, not Freak. Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds before nodding. "Harrington," he says, "how the fuck did you become a babysitter?"

Is he just imagining things, or is Steve looking at his mouth? Like, really intensely. He's definitely not, because Steve looks up after a few seconds with a raised eyebrow. "I needed some extra cash. Also, don't swear around Dustin. I'm the one who gets in trouble when he curses in front of his mom."

Something about the words makes Eddie grin. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he'd be talking to Steve Harrington. And he would have laughed you into Mordor itself if you suggested their conversation would be about Dustin Henderson swearing in front of his mother. "What's his mom do when he swears?" he asks.

Because he can feel the conversation veering into something potentially embarrassing for him, Dustin lets go of Eddie and starts pushing Steve toward the driver's side of his car. "Okay, we gotta go. So many chores, so little time," he says, his voice back to that normal speed and enunciation.

Steve frowns slightly, looking down at Dustin and tilting his head just slightly. "What?" he asks. Instead of actually answering, Dustin just makes some vague gesture with his hand and looks at the car. "Oh, right. Go ahead and get in the car. And, uh, see you later, Munson."

"Is that a promise?" Eddie asks before he can think better of it.

Steve pauses, looking at Eddie's mouth with a slight scrunch to his nose. He seems to be considering something as Dustin scrambles into the passenger seat, watching them with narrowed eyes. Honestly, Eddie is surprised he's not blasting the horn to hurry Steve up. Finally, Steve comes to a decision and meets Eddie's eyes again. "Your band has a show tonight, right? At the Hideout? I was planning to go. So, yeah, I'll see you then, I guess."

And with that, like he hasn't just fucking rocked Eddie's world, Steve Harrington gets into his car. He makes sure Dustin is buckled before waving at Eddie and pulling out of the parking spot.

Eddie finds himself waving back, staring dumbly at the car as it pulls onto the street. It only hits him a few seconds later that Steve Harrington is coming to his show. At the Hideout. His metal show. A Corroded Coffin gig at the Hideout.

Holy. Shit.

[satorucci]

love your big bro satoru fic!!! :) are you planning a part 2?

big brother satoru pt. 2 <3

♡ cw: incest, pining, slight breeding kink, choking, soft dom gojo, manipulation, slight dumbification, reader is a bit more of a minx than satoru might've thought :o

♡ currently listening to: pyramids - frank ocean

♡ nonnie note: thank you, nonnie!!! and thank you for submitting this ask! i wasn't sure if i would do a pt. 2 for this, but i ended up getting reallyyyy into the writing zone, so it's kind of long :o i hope you enjoy, and thank you for your support! have a lovely day/night mwah!

♡ author's note: remember kids, this is fictional! if you haven't read pt. 1, just click the link to read! dark content ahead!

MDNI

♡ big brother satoru, who, after sending you that ambiguous text is absolutely on edge. he's satoru gojo, the man whose never begged and asked for anything in his life. whether it be money or women, it's always been thrown at him, yet, here he is begging his shining, perfect, slutty little sister for a crumb of what he feels he may never be able to have.

♡ big brother satoru, who waits for your response for what seems like hours, cock hard and leaky, for some reason, only growing with anticipation. his phone, laying beside him, is quickly snatched up when he hears the ding! that must mean you've gotten back to him. hopefully, it's the video. hopefully, you're surrendering yourself over to him. surely, you know he's the one who can truly satisfy you. instead, his face drops at the message he receives. "were you listening to us?", and suddenly the satoru gojo doesn't know how to respond. he takes only a moment to figure out his response, not wanting to give you time to dwell on the fact that he eavesdropped on you fucking your boyfriend into oblivion, cock in hand, and cum all over himself.

♡ big brother satoru, who responds to his little sister with, "i wasn't listening, i could hear you from across the house." your response comes quickly. "let's say that is the case, it doesn't justify you asking for the video. stop being a creep, satoru." and his hopes are swiftly crushed. he can only respond with a consolation, "i was just kidding! you've known me for 18 years, you should know i'm not serious", and your follow-up response never comes. satoru has found himself soft, once again.

♡ big brother satoru, who ends his winter break on quite a sour note with you. when parting from your family, you refuse to look him in the eye, and you only give him a sorry half-hug as a parting gift. on your way out the door, your parents stand behind you waving as they send you back off to your respective colleges, and satoru thinks this is the perfect time to initiate a conversation with you. "hey, when are you gonna talk to me again?" he asks. "ya know i was just kidding about all that video stuff." your response is a cold shrug, and you never once meet his eyes. for once in his life, satoru gojo may have lost.

♡ big brother satoru, who doesn't know that ever since the initial text he sent to you, asking for your sex tape, you've been avoiding him like the plague only because you want to send the video. it's abnormal. it's an abomination to want your brother to see you in such a state, to see you performing such acts. the siblings you've either met or been introduced to through satoru who seemed even slightly weird, were always met with "woah, no wonder he can't get a girl. he totally wants to fuck his sister, yuck", or, "whew, she certainly has a boyfriend already. look at how she's all over her brother. gross." and then your big brother had sent a text about it all being a big joke. you'd spent time actually debating on sending him the video, only to second guess yourself and send a circumstantial text instead, to which satoru confirmed it was only a joke.

♡ big brother satoru, who doesn't know how badly you've missed him while you've been away at college. it all started when you would show your new friends pictures of your family, and everyone's eyes immediately drifted to satoru. beautiful cerulean eyes, stark white hair, a tall, muscular frame. everyone always told you how lucky you were to have such a hot brother, everyone always asked, "is he single", and each time, a small fire of annoyance started in the pit of your belly. i know all this already, you would think, he's my brother. but only your brother, so why did you try so hard to stop others from getting to know him?

♡ big brother satoru, who has no clue that you jealously think of all the women he's fucked as you lay in your dorm room late at night. you've never brought any of them home as something serious, but you remember the nights your parents would be out and he'd bring home random hook-ups, which, in your childhood, was simply an annoyance. the random women he would bring home while you sat in your bedroom, movie ready to play and watch with satoru, would always fuck up your plans to hangout with your brother. sometimes you thought they were more important than you.

♡ big brother satoru, who doesn't know that you lost your virginity in college out of spite. you wanted to see what was so good about sex that your brother could abandon you on movie nights to hook-up with some cheap woman he found in god-knows-where. the night you lose your virginity, it still doesn't make sense to you, not from your perspective anyway. the guy had wanted to fuck you since he'd laid eyes on you at your college campus. you figured he'd be the perfect one to ensnare in your trap. it hadn't been a pleasant experience, not for you. it hurt, and your bedsheets were stained with drops of blood. it was all-too cramped in the tiny dorm bed to really do anything of special note. it was simple missionary with a guy who obviously didn't have much experience, but the look on his face - oh the look on his face was priceless. he was so eager, so desperate, so entranced in you that he could barely control himself. maybe, you thought, this is why satoru does it.

♡ big brother satoru, who doesn't know that you went through quite a few... "trial and errors" during your first few months of college, constantly seeking out that face from men. flushed cheeks, eyes brimming with tears, men who would beg and plead for just a single taste of you. you found yourself thinking of satoru each and every time you laid in bed with a man. wondering what his face looked like in the moments he was buried deep inside another woman- your brother. you had to always remind yourself, he was your brother. not an ex to get back at, or some guy who'd majorly scorned you - just your brother.

♡ big brother satoru, who doesn't know that, when you finally started to enjoy the physical aspect of sex, you started imagining his face beneath you each time. you tried your best to stop, to tell yourself that they were just intrusive thoughts (and your ears burned each time, maybe someone else was thinking the same), and that it would resolve once you went home for winter break and actually interacted with your brother. maybe, you just needed satoru to be annoying enough that you forgot all about him during these intimate moments. still, it didn't help the first time you called one of your random one-night stands by your brother's name. he swiftly left after that, walking through your dorm door wondering, "who the fuck is satoru?"

♡ big brother satoru, who doesn't know that he's left you in an even worse state after you return to college from winter break. all you can think about are those text messages. what if you had sent that video instead of questioning how he knew about it? would he have called you a weirdo? would he have labeled you as one of those people who really wants to sleep with their sibling? would he have used the video, admired it?

♡ big brother satoru, who doesn't text you much during your second semester of college. your birthday is quickly approaching, along with spring break, and you know that you'll be seeing your brother. you bite your lip anxiously every day, wondering what the interactions with him will be like. communication between the two of you has been so scarce, you can't imagine that it won't be awkward when you meet again. so, you decide to send him a text to clear the air. "hey, i know we haven't spoken much, but when we come home for spring break, i just want things to be normal. i don't think you're weird or anything... and i'm not mad at you. i just want my big brother back."

♡ big brother satoru, whose heart (and cock) ache when he sees your message come through. you just want your big brother back? something about the messages makes him pine for you even more. he, too, wants his little sister back, but not only in the way you do. satoru, who has been finding girls on campus who share striking similarities with you and fucking them ruthlessly into the mattress, doesn't know how he's going to go home and look at you with a straight face. when he can't find someone who looks even minutely like you, he picks up girls who don't mind being fucked from behind, and he imagines that it's you. he knows it's supposed to be wrong, but if it's him, the satoru gojo thinking it, doing it, it can't be wrong... right?

♡ big brother satoru, who responds to your text precociously, simply saying, "i love you, everything will be fine. i miss you, too".

♡ big brother satoru, who sees you again during spring break. you're another year older, and this time, you don't hesitate to meet his eyes or to run into his arms when you see him. he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him, and my god, you smell so good. this time, there's no boyfriend with you, no tight dress, it's simply you - and he can't stand that he can't have you.

♡ big brother satoru, who during the beautiful spring season, tries to spend as much time as possible with you. he finds that you've changed just a bit. the awkward, weird girl he grew up with was now attracting the attention of passersby constantly - men always looking you up and down in the pretty little sundresses and skirts you wore. your personality had become more bubbly during your time in college. you'd become a real catch, and every time satoru thought of this, it made his heart ache in the worst way possible. some day, you would make someone very happy... and it wouldn't be him.

♡ big brother satoru, who catches himself staring at the plush of your thighs frequently when the two of you are alone. or staring at your cleavage, tits pressed tight against whatever piece of clothing you were wearing. he noticed that you preferred low-cut tops and tiny skirts, and he wondered, sometimes, if it was to purposefully draw the attention of others. other times, he wondered if it was simply because this was who you were.

♡ big brother satoru, who is completely oblivious to the fact that you wear these cute little getups just for him. ever since his first suspicious text, you've wondered if he'd have the gall to make a move. you find yourself wanting him to make a move. your brother has always been attractive, you've known this because you've watched friend after friend fall in love with his shining blue eyes and charming attitude, but it's only been recently that you've started to see it for yourself. satoru, who doesn't know that, sometimes, late at night, you touch yourself as you think of him. fingers circling your clit and working your insides haphazardly, wishing it was him doing it to you instead. spring break is coming to an end, and you're beginning to wonder if the lingering gazes you catch and the close brushes of his hand are just a figment of your imagination. you wonder, how would he react if you took it upon yourself to make a move on him? would he pull away? be disgusted? a part of you fantasizes that he'd lean into your touch, show you what it was like to be with the satoru gojo.

♡ big brother satoru, who doesn't know that you've hatched a plan to clarify his intentions, what he wants from you - if anything. three days before spring break comes to a close, you find yourself nestled in satoru's bed - nothing unusual. the two of you sit in comfortable silence after discussing mundane things such as classwork and upcoming schedules, how totally disinterested you both are in going back to your respective campuses. breaking the silence, you turn around to face satoru, who is lying on his side under the covers, face buried in his phone. "did i ever tell you why me and that guy broke up?" satoru turns to face you, the light from his phone illuminating his brilliant features. "no, you didn't. i didn't want to ask 'cause i thought it might make you all emotional". you grimace and shake you head. "no, i wouldn't have gotten emotional over it. he totally overstepped his boundaries."

♡ big brother satoru, who raises an eyebrow, interest piqued when he discovers that your ex-boyfriend made you uncomfortable in some manner. had he hurt you? had he laid his hands on you? "the fuck did he do?" satoru asks, turning off the phone screen and setting it down. the only light in the room comes from satoru's outdated and totally-not-in-style led lights that bathe the room in a light blue, almost the same color as his eyes. "he said he didn't wanna be with a girl that seemed more interested in her brother", you huff out a laugh, satoru's expression of confusion not lost on you. "what?" he sounded as though he was in disbelief, and you simply nod. "mhm. he said i talked about you way too much. said that winter break was weird because i was always asking him to hang out with you, but he never wanted to." satoru's entire body flips over, and he's so close to you now, you can feel the heat of his body emanating across the small gap between the two of you. "you didn't tell him about that text i sent you?" he asks. you shake your head and laugh. "why would i tell him about that? he was already suspicious. that would've made him think there was definitely something going on with us." satoru takes a moment to think. "hm..." he sighs deeply, as if contemplating something serious. "so the text wasn't what made it weird over winter break? it was your boyfriend?"

♡ big brother satoru, who is completely caught off guard when you answer his last question. "no, that didn't make it weird. you're my big brother, i share everything with you. i always have. i don't think showing you a little clip of a sex tape would be weird. not unless you made it weird. then again, you are known to make things kind of-" satoru cuts you off suddenly. "then show me." satoru, who is so entranced in the idea of watching you get railed, doesn't notice you biting your lip in anticipation. he's biting the bait. "you sure?" you ask. suddenly, the atmosphere in the room becomes tense in the same way it does before you know you're about to hookup with someone. that intensity that is born from a mutual lust between two people, whether it be pure biological instinct, or simply circumstantial. satoru nods, "maybe i can give you some tips since i'm such a great brother."

♡ big brother satoru, who is so, so thankful that your parents went to bed a long time ago. satoru, who is so thankful that their bedroom is on the other side of the large house they live in. satoru, who is so thankful that your parents can't hear your screams coming through the video that is playing on your phone. your ex-boyfriend was filming you from behind, delivering backshots that satoru found subpar, but he can't deny that seeing your wrists encircled by your ex's free hand and held behind your back as he delivers deep strokes is turning him on in a way he's never felt before. he wants so badly to see your face. why the fuck did this jerk only get an angle from the back??? satoru's eyes widen at the way your back arches, the moans that spill from your lips, and the pleas of "please, keep fucking me!" it's all too much for him. satoru gojo has never once in his life wanted to be anyone other than himself - at this very moment, he wants nothing more than to be your ex-boyfriend. to be anyone you've ever fucked.

♡ big brother satoru, who chokes up when you say, "what? cat got your tongue?" as you pause the video and tuck your phone away. he sighs, completely frustrated and absolutely pent-up. he can't let you see the hard-on that's raging in his pajama bottoms. yes, this is supposed to be nothing more than an educational moment between siblings. he's supposed to give you some sort of feedback, tell you something that could be improved on, tell you- "he sucks at fucking. and filming." and satoru mentally slaps himself. never in his life has he been this flustered. "oh, and how would the great satoru gojo improve this performance?" you ask. "for starters, i'd have you in a position where i could film your face. your my sister, so you're the absolute cutest. secondly, his rhythm is just... off. and he's not doing much for you other than just going in and out. i can't imagine that's actually grade-a sex." you chuckle and bit and nod. "yeah, it wasn't the best. i just made a lot of noise so that he'd feel good about himself. honestly, i could've had my face buried in my phone the entire time and that likely would've made it more interesting." there's a tense silence between the two of you. it lasts for a long moment and neither of you like it. satoru shifts slightly in the bed, and you snuggle deeper into the sheets, trying to hide your face. "you should show me." your voice is quiet as you make the request. you don't meet satoru's eyes, as you're sure he's confused. you couldn't handle it if you looked into his eyes and saw disgust.

♡ big brother satoru, who stares at you in disbelief. "show you what, exactly?" he asks. your face is still buried in the covers, so he can't read your expressions - can't tell if you're playing a cruel joke on him to get back at him. "ugh, show me how it's done properly, stupid. you are my brother, you're supposed to be some sort of guiding light in my life, right?" satoru is quickly melting into your words, but he needs to see your face before he does anything. he needs to know this isn't a joke. before you can react, he's ripped the covers from your face - your flushed face, cheeks red, pupils blown, lips quivering, the expression that has been the ire of each and every orgasm he's had since you ran off to college. "tell me you want me to, and i will. I'll show you everything."

♡ big brother satoru, who after hearing your shy confirmation, has you on your back in mere seconds, ripping your pajama bottoms off in an instant. he's nestled himself between your legs near the edge of the bed, and "holy shit, satoru, slow down-" he's already spreading your legs wide for him as you tell him to slow his pace. he's pressing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs, lifting one up and throwing it over his shoulder before biting the inside, causing a whine to bubble up and spill out of your mouth. "nu-uh, can't slow down. not when you're right in front of me looking like this." his hands glide gently along your legs as he continues to press kisses to your thighs, imagining all the nasty things he's going to do to you, his perfect little sister.

♡ big brother satoru, who throws your other leg over his free shoulder, kneeling down low, low, lower, his mouth meeting your clothed apex. he stares up at you - you, biting your lip, trying to contain your moans. "don't hold it in now, sweet girl." his voice is sing-songy, and you wonder if this is the voice he uses on the other women he devours. "mom and dad are sleeping, so i wanna hear everything you have to give me." you release the grip on your lips, blushing as satoru gently rubs his mouth against your clothed cunt. you're already soaked. when did you become like this? when he hitched your thigh over his shoulder? when you were showing him the video? satoru, who doesn't know you've been wet since the moment you stepped into his room, fully intent on fucking him if he'd give you the honor. satoru, who fully places his mouth on the fabric of your panties, causing you to let out a gasp. his tongue moves masterfully up and down the fabric, his tongue dragging against your clit as you buck your hips into his mouth. his hands moved from where they're perched on your thighs to roughly grip your hips. he flattens his tongue against your cunt, lapping up every bit of juice that spills from your underwear, and it's not enough. not for either of you.

♡ big brother satoru, who slides your underwear to the side, allowing his mouth free access to your soaking cunt. he uses his tongue like a bonafide slut, dipping in and out of you rhythmically, thumb circling your clit as his free hand tries to hold your hips down, but he finds it hard to fight against the way you're bucking up against his mouth so vigorously. moans are spilling freely from your lips as you sink into a pleasure you've not experienced before. your ex never ate you out, he always said it "wasn't his thing". instead, your big brother takes care of you, teaches you about things you haven't experienced. and satoru just loves the way you ride his face. he could die like this. his family could hold the wake in this bed, and he'd be perfectly content. your cunt tastes heavenly, and suddenly he realizes why so many wars have been fought over women. satoru sucks on your clit gently, causing your knees to push together, squeezing his head between the fat of your thighs, and he swears his cock is twitching harder than it has all night. still, he wants more. he wants more for himself, and for you. he uses a free hand to push one of your knees away and he can feel your leg shaking. his mouth leaves your cunt only for a moment, and he gazes up at you, mouth glistening with your slick and juices. "want more, baby?"

♡ big brother satoru, who crooks his fingers deep inside of you as he continues to switch between circling your clit with his tongue and suck on it with his plush lips. you're a mess. legs shaking, moans and whines spilling from you constantly. again, he finds himself so thankful that only the two of you are awake. his middle and ring finger move inside of you, constantly brushing against a spot that causes you lose your sanity. your hips move on their own, smashing your cunt against his mouth, riding his fingers to your first orgasm, and itsallsomuchatonce. your hand finds its way to satoru's hair, gripping tightly as you cum in his mouth, on his fingers, hardly able to catch your breath as the tight coil in your lower stomach snaps viciously. and satoru doesn't stop. he gives you no reprieve. he continues eating you through your orgasm, the pain you experience from the overstimulation converging with the immense pleasure you're getting as you're coming down from your first high. "s-satoru, i-i can't, w-wait-" but he doesn't. your big brother continues his crusade of your cunt, sucking on your clit and fingering you at a rapid pace, hitting that same spot over and over and over - and you're cumming once again.

♡ big brother satoru, who when he emerges from your cunt, looks absolutely demolished. his hair is a mess of white strands, some sticking up from the way you've pulled and tugged on his hair, and some plastered to his face from a mix of sweat and your juices. you're so spent. you don't think you can continue, until your sweet big brother leans close to your ear, "you can keep going, can't you, pretty girl? wanna give me another one? this time on my cock." and suddenly, you can't breathe again. satoru presses a soft kiss to your cheek, running his thumb across your cheekbone, and how could you possibly say no?

♡ big brother satoru, who, looming above you, frees his cock from his pajama pants, before completely tugging your panties off. he motions for you to sit up and you comply. you raise you arms as satoru tugs your shirt off, as well, throwing it across the room. you didn't wear a bra, being that you were just lounging around the house. you didn't wear a bra, because you'd hoped that you might end up in this position with satoru, anyway. but you'd be lying if you said that the way he stares at your naked body didn't make you self-conscious. his eyes roam freely across your body, taking in the sight, memorizing every dip and curve of you, committing all of it to memory because he doesn't know if he'll ever get to see it again, though he prays he does. you move to cover your breasts, and squeeze your thighs together, concealing your most intimate areas, and in an instant, satoru is pulling your knees apart, planting himself firmly between them, before he reaches for your arms. "nuh-uh, pretty girl. i wanna see everything. you're too pretty to be playing hard-to-get with me. i might just lose my mind if you start restricting me now. look at what you've done to me." satoru takes ones of your hands, guides it to his rock-hard cock, and wraps your hands around it. his face is flushed, he looks so fucked out and he hasn't even put the tip in. you look down, really examining what he's working with for the first time since he's pulled his cock out, and your breath catches in your throat. how is that going to fit??? his cock is massive, prominent veins throbbing as his cock twitches in your hand. his balls sit pretty right under the base of his cock, full of cum that he's ready to absolutely fill you with. "wanna keep goin'?"

♡ big brother satoru, who gently lays you down on your back, fluffing the pillows around you as he prepares to enter you. before he gets a chance you protest, "wait! i'm the only one completely naked... a little unfair, don't ya think?" satoru laughs heartily and sits back on his thighs. "oh, ya wanna see what's underneath? undress me, then." of course, he isn't going to make it easy. you lean up, motioning for him to raise his arms up, and he complies. you tug at his shirt, and he helps you by wiggling out of the fabric because he's positively too tall for you to undress him by yourself. and of course, he's a greek god underneath his shirt, as well. he's all muscle and ripples and he looks like a marble carving. it's completely unfair. "you can touch, if you want." he leans in close to your ear, licking a trail up the side of your neck. "i want you to." your hands find themselves trailing up and down his solid abs, eyes entranced by just how beautiful your brother really is. no wonder he's had his fair share of women. but you don't want to think about them. you would like to imagine you're the only woman he's thinking of at this moment - at any moment. as your hands roam his chest, he leans down to kiss you gently on the lips, his tongue asking politely for entry into your mouth, and you grant him this. satoru, whose hands cup your breasts, fingers playing with your nipples as he continues to kiss you, slowly coercing you back to lying flat on your back.

♡ big brother satoru, who continues to kiss you as he lines his cockhead up with you entrance. he stretched you as much as he could with his fingers, but he knows it's still going to hurt. he presses little kisses along your jawline, taking a moment to look into your eyes lovingly before pressing his face into the crook of your neck. "you ready? 's gonna hurt a little. just hold onto me." satoru lifts his head and uses his hand to grasp his cock as he guides it to your entrance, his other arm caging you in on one side of your head. you do as he says, and grab onto his arm, mentally preparing for him to enter.

♡ big brother satoru, who kisses your breathless moans away as he enters you slowly. your face is screwed up and contorted in discomfort at the slow burn that envelops you as his cock splits you wide open. "doin' so good, pretty girl. my pretty girl. always been my pretty girl." he whispers quiet affirmations into your ear over and over, inch by inch, until he finally bottoms out in you. your grip on his arm is a vice as he gives you time to adjust to the cock that's absolutely gaping you. you swear you can feel it in your stomach, as his cockhead presses gently against your cervix. "you ready?" he aks, and you nod, a singular tear gathering at your waterline. satoru wastes no time wiping it away and kissing your cheek.

♡ big brother satoru, who moves slowly at first, still letting you adjust despite the primal urge to fuck you senseless into the mattress. his own breath becomes ragged as he struggles to contain his excitement, his eagerness. this is what he's wanted for the past year. satoru gojo isn't used to not obtaining the things he wants within a matter of days, yet he's waited a full year to make you his, and his cock twitches at the thought. his thrusts are deep and slow in the beginning, and your fingernails leave half-moon prints in his arm. your head is turned to the side as you mentally fortify yourself against the pain of his cock splitting you in two. it's when his free hand reaches down to circle your clit that the pain begins to turn into an undeniable pleasure. "ah! yes, like that!" you give him praise through instruction, and satoru grins. his hips begin to move quicker, his pace becoming a steady rhythm as he fucks in and out of you meticulously, doing his best to make sure he doesn't hurt you.

♡ big brother satoru, who, cock twitching inside of you, loses his sanity when he hears you whisper, "harder, satoru, please", and he absolutely obliges you. his pace quickens, the arm you were grasping finds you thigh and hitches it over his shoulder before gripping your hips and bringing them down to viciously meet the base of his cock. the scream you let out makes satoru sure that your parents are going to wake up, but the electric feeling going through you is one you have no control over. satoru takes control of your hips, slamming you into his cock repeatedly as if you were nothing more than a ragdoll and you writhe underneath him, begging him for more, begging him not to stop. at this point, you swear he's in your guts. each and everytime he slams you down on his cock, his cockhead bullies your cervix, veins of his cock brushing against that same spot that brought you over the edge when he was fingering you. he fucks into you at the pace of a madman, and when you look at him, leg thrown over his shoulder, hands on your hips, you can see how fucked-out he is. his pupils are blown so wide you'd think he'd taken drugs. his face is flushed, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead.

♡ big brother satoru, who removes his hands from your hips, slips his cock out of you for only a second, and manhandles you so that you're on your side. he throws your leg back over his shoulder before slipping right back in and this time, you're seeing stars as he pounds into you over and over with no mercy. his hand rests on your hip, still guiding you down on his cock and he pistons into you at a breakneck pace. you can't help the screams that spill from your lips as he fucks you into oblivion. "please! satoru, please, please don't stop! 's so good! please, your cock is so good!" and satoru can see it in your eyes - you're a goner. you're so fucked-out, you can barely think. the only thing you can think of is another orgasm being ripped from you. the only thing you can think of is your brother wrapping his hand around your pretty little throat and ramming you over and over. so, you take matters into your own hands. you frantically reach for his hand that's on your hip, bringing it to your throat, and encouraging him to press down. the look in his eyes is one you'll never forget. sinister.

♡ big brother satoru, who, as he chokes you, realizes his perfect, sweet little sister truly has become a minx. he chokes you, cutting off your screams as he fucks into you with reckless abandon. your cunt pulses and spams around him as he bring you to yet another orgasm that he continues fucking you through. you try to move your hips away from him, but he simply chases you down. "nu-uh, don't run away from me, pretty girl." he leans down, his hand wrapping around your chin so that he can force you to look at him as he fucks into you. he's so close, so very close. and he wants to look into your eyes when he cums. "'m close, pretty, where do ya want it?" and you can barely think. you can barely see, but you're being entranced by the beautiful blue eyes in front of you. you weren't lucky enough to get those eyes. maybe your kids would. "i-inside! wan' you to cum inside, please, satoru, please!" and satoru, momentarily shocked, gathers himself quickly as his cock twitches furiously and balls begin to tighten. "inside, huh? i'll take responsibility, then." and satoru, hand wrapped around your pretty throat, cums hard, his orgasm hitting him like a bolt of lightning. every bit of breath in his lungs escapes as he spills everything he has into you.

♡ big brother satoru, who takes such good care of you afterward. your legs are still shaking, unable to stand on your own two feet, satoru brings you everything you could want. water, food, a washcloth, and a towel. he carefully cleans you, demanding you simply lay back and let him do the work since he "wrecked" you. you don't even argue with his cocky praise of himself. he did, in fact, wreck you. your mind is blank for nearly an hour after your last orgasm. so, this was the power of the great satoru gojo. "so, d'ya learn anything?" he asks. you take a deep breath, eyes staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. "i learned a lot. i learned that getting head is one of the greatest gifts on earth." satoru makes a sour face. "only from me." and then his expression turns into one of shock. "wait! your boyfriend never ate you out?" you shake your head in denial and satoru gasps, as if offended. "what a fucking loser. if i died with you riding my face, i'd die a happy man." you look over and him and giggle. "oh, shut up. it can't be that good." satoru clucks his tongue. "nu-uh, sis, it really was that good. my feedback for you is that: i think there are a lot more things i could teach you. though, you seem to be all in-the-know on the whole choking front. didn't know you were already kind of freaked-out."

♡ big brother satoru, who sees more than a glimpse of hope when you give him feedback on his own performance. "ya know, i think next time, you should really pull out the camera. a real athlete always watches their footage back." and satoru gives no argument.

[spiderm444rk]

LOST IN TRANSLATION ( mark lee ; smau )

you, as the promising journalism student of NCUT, were more than willing to join the school magazine when you got offered. to your disappointment, the only section they let you have is the anonymous confessions one - which is mostly really, really boring. i mean, who even posts any cool confessions nowadays ? especially in a damn college magazine ? they only offered you the job no one else wanted.

on the other hand, mark, a business student, was never more annoyed with the choice of his major. sure, business is cool and hopefully it’ll earn him money, but it’s not something he could really get into. he always wanted to do music. but after long considering, he chose business instead, to make sure he gets a real job in the future. and he doubts that choice was correct more and more every day.

once the school band announces they’re looking for a new guitarist, he’s absolutely ready to apply until he reads the ‘music students only’ part. pissed off, he starts typing a message to the gc, but it ends up going to a different number - and you finally get to help some poor random stranger who confessed with something interesting.

business major! mark x fem journalism major! reader

GENRE — fluff, comedy, humor, slowburn, strangers to friends to lovers, non-idol au, college au

WARNINGS — a little bit of cursing, probably kys/kms jokes, mark is really unlucky and awkward, reader as a journalism student loves gossiping a LOT and she’ll get into everyone’s business to do her job properly, a lot of teasing, includes mlm, features other idols (aespa, enhypen…)

STATUS — ongoing

UPDATES — every wednesday and saturday

TAGLIST — open (reply or send an ask)

PLAYLIST

A/N — my first smau ever :) but i’m so excited ! hopefully it goes well 🙏🏻

profiles 1 || profiles 2

band introduction

Y/N’s magazine account

1) accidental confessions

2) don’t do anything stupid

3) y/n’s hit tweet

4) we are the most mysterious bitches in this cafeteria

5) they know what you did

6) you found me thanks to my private twitter ? (written)

7) two baddies with connections

8) one at a time gentlemen

9) show them who’s the king

10) a little stalking never hurt anyone (half written)

11) we aren’t homophobic !

12) surrounded by opps

13) we’re locked in baby

14) she has a hand kink

15) hope they play charli xcx

16) party in the city where the heat is on

17) he’ll be the passenger princess next time

18) break his heart or his bones ?

19) you heard the boss

20) can you two stop flirting ?? (written)

21) one at a time ladies

22) how your email finds me

23) drinks or coffee ?

24) little spoon allegations

25) to die in your arms (written)

26) coochie eyes

27) #muted

28) gentle parenting

29) practice and other things (written)

30) gonna cry till i pass out

31) black clouds (written)

32) who’s the loser ? (written)

33) a ring is a body

34) mark lee, back again

[jijournal]

MASTERLIST!

ˋ°•*⁀➷ GOLDEN TRIO ERA

╰┈➤ HARRY POTTER

♡ I See You

As a Muggle-born Hufflepuff, you were taught to always be kind-even when it hurt. Years of people-pleasing left you exhausted and invisible, until Harry Potter reminded you that your worth isn't tied to how much you give. Now, you're learning that kindness includes being kind to yourself too.

♡ Worse Than Veritaserum!

Something went wrong while you and Harry were brewing Veritaserum—the potion you created now causes you to read each other’s minds.

╰┈➤ DRACO MALFOY

ˋ°•*⁀➷ SERIES

♡ LOVE ME LOUD

♡ Part 1: Love Me Loud: To the world, Draco Malfoy was untouchable—arrogant, cruel, and proud of it. But when you took the only empty seat beside him, you became the exception. Well maybe not that much of an exception... He cared more about what his family wants, and not what he wanted. Which was you. ♡ Part 2: Love Me Again: After walking away from the boy who couldn't choose you, fate brings you face to face with Draco Malfoy once more. The feelings are still there, truths remain unspoken, and the question lingers—was it ever really over?

♡ CRAZY RICH... WIZARDS?

♡ Part 1: Crazy Rich... Wizards? You find out your long time boyfriend is a... wizard? Was it a prank? a joke? some kind of unamusing humor? No. It was real. And now, he wants to introduce you to his parents. ♡ Part 2: Wands, Weddings, And Wicked Traditions: When your boyfriend drags you into a world of old money, ancient grudges, and fancy robes, you quickly learn that fitting in isn’t about magic—it’s about surviving family dinners. ♡ Part 3: Wealthy, Witty, Witches: After barely surviving a disastrous dinner with your wizard boyfriend’s parents, you’re forced to endure yet another nightmare—this time, with his ex.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ STAND-ALONE

♡ Right Here All Along

Camellia Rose and Draco Malfoy, childhood friends bound by loyalty, love, and unspoken words. As Camellia is torn between loyalty and betrayal as she discovers that Harry Potter, the one person she trust most, has been using her all along.

♡ You'll Be In My Heart

Whenever Draco needs you, you're always there. That's an older sister's duty after all. When he was at his lowest throughout the years, you teach him an important lesson in life.

♡ Just Pretend

To get his parents off his back, Draco begs you to pretend to be his date for a gala. He swears it's just for a night, but by the end, he's wishing it wasn't.

♡ "You're Going Down, Malfoy."

After a playful late-night duel with Draco, you win a bet and make him hold your hand in public for five seconds. Maybe a little longer than five.

♡ "Jealous Much?"

You receive a letter with a gift every week, and your brother Harry and his friends won’t stop teasing you about a “mystery admirer.” Little does he know, the sender is the last person he’d ever expect.

♡ Complain Here, Complain There

You had a talent for endless complaining—fortunately, someone always seemed to have the full-time job of fixing whatever you whined about.

♡ "Told You I Was"

A quiet winter night of sulking turns unexpectedly sweet when Draco proves he’s been listening all along, surprising you with thoughtful gifts that melt your heart.

♡ Charm Me Up

You’ve made it a habit to give small charms to those who need a reminder that they’re not alone. But there’s one person you keep finding reasons to give them to—one boy who always seems to need a charm.

♡ Little Miss Collector

In which the strangest girl in Slytherin collects lost things in a heart-shaped box, and Draco Malfoy realizes she might be the only person who’s never truly lost herself.

♡ He laughs at her eyes, at her smile, at the glasses on her face:

Draco Malfoy hates you, or so you thought.

♡ Undressed

And I don't wanna learn another scent I don't want the children of another man To have the eyes of the girl I won't forget.

♡ Never Go Near A Malfoy

You were taught to never go near a Malfoy, ever. But how could you? He's very much unavoidable.

♡ The Greenhouse Effect

When you're paired with Draco Malfoy for Herbology, you expected eye-rolls and dead plants. But, you don’t expect that the most sudden pairings bloom brightest.

♡ Drop The Beat, Steal The Heart

Hogwarts’ most popular DJ gets summoned to throw the party of the year—but when the birthday boy starts watching you like your a spell he can’t resist, things quickly turn electrifying. Get ready for beats, banter, and tension that drops harder than any remix.

♡ Fight Or Flight (Coming Soon)

A fierce academic rivalry brews between you and Draco Malfoy—your greatest competition for second place behind your bestfriend Hermione. But after years of witty insults and tension, one unexpected moment changes everything, revealing a spark even Harry and Ron never saw coming.

♡ You, Before The War (Coming Soon)

Being forced into becoming a Death Eater because of your family's name was unbearable—but betraying the love of your life to spy for the other side, all for the greater good, was far worse.

╰┈➤ RON WEASLEY

♡ A Weasley Gift

Ron surprises you with something very special in the Weasley household.

╰┈➤ GEORGE WEASLEY

♡ My Very Own Cupid:

Valerie Valentine, known as “Hogwarts’ Cupid” for her matchmaking prowess, finds herself heartbroken upon finding out George Weasley, her crush since 4th year, likes Angelina Johnson. This leads her to abandon her romantic endeavors, only to later discover something unexpected.

♡ Confession Candy

When Fred convinces George to test their latest prototype, George has no idea the candy will shout out a confession he’s secretly been holding in for years. To his horror—and your shock—it blurts out that he's in love with you.

♡ Hired Matchmaker (Coming Soon)

As a professional "matchmaker"—as people say—Molly hires you to find George the love of his life after Fred's passing. You both don't realize that the "love of his life" was standing in front of him, helping, all along.

╰┈➤ FRED WEASLEY

♡ The Thief

No one knows that you own a cute baby Niffler. It may be only a few months old, but his love for mischief keeps developing fast... really, fast.

♡ Prank Wars

You and Fred Weasley had been bickering since first year, locked in a never-ending war of (mostly) harmless pranks. Why is it that he's so obsessed with tormenting you? you’ll never know. The petty rivalry drags on for years, until your sixth year, when one of Fred’s pranks goes completely wrong… or maybe completely right.

╰┈➤ CEDRIC DIGGORY

♡ A Promise Kept

Before the Triwizard Tournament, Cedric makes you promise that, no matter what happens, you won’t cry over him. After his death, you struggle to keep that promise—until you find the letter he left behind.

♡ Another Chance

If you are given another chance to go back and prevent him from entering that stupid tournament, would you do it?

╰┈➤ OLIVER WOOD

♡ The Quidditch Bet

You and Oliver are captains of rival Quidditch teams, and the competition is fierce. But when a bet forces the loser to take the winner on a date, you realize that maybe you don’t hate him as much as you thought.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ MARAUDERS ERA

╰┈➤ JAMES POTTER

♡ Back To Friends

Best friends weren’t supposed to fall. But after one night and a thousand unspoken words, James Potter chose Lily Evans—and you were left remembering what it felt like to be loved, even if only for a moment.

╰┈➤ REMUS LUPIN

nothing to see here yet...

╰┈➤ SIRIUS BLACK

♡ "Bet You'll Fall For Me" (Coming Soon)

One lazy afternoon in the Gryffindor common room, Sirius makes a bold bet—he claims he can make you blush in less than five minutes. You're certain he (kinda) doesn't stand a chance.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

enjoy reading!

[angsty-art-ist]

part 2 of the NPMD Monster High AU! seriously thank you guys for all the love on part 1, it means a lot that you like my silly hyperfixation crossover :]

a little lore note: in this AU, monsters can use magic to blend in with humans during the day, sort of like in the g3 cartoon. Hatchetfield is kind of split into the normie side and smaller monster side. the monster part of town is magically warded to make humans want to leave quickly, and monsters don’t tend to cross over into the human areas (with the exception of adults with normie jobs, like Mayor Lauter and most of the adult HF cast). Hatchetfield High is a “exclusive private school” in the monster part of town, and the normie teens, like Grace and Max, go to Sycamore.

why are Grace and Max humans if this is a monster AU, you ask? don’t worry, i have plans for them :)

Steph:

she’s a vampire because… well because she’s rich. you’ve heard of old money? these Lauters are ancient money

i had a hard time with her outfit because my main references were Draculaura and Elissabat, who are both very dressy, but i wanted to stay true to Steph’s casual grungy style… and then i remembered The Lost Boys were THEE original grunge vampires, so i mashed David and Paul’s jackets together and gave her a Santa Carla tee as a shout-out

the chains and plaid pattern tie back to Pete’s design, like the plaid of her flannel and his bow tie in the show <3

her father isn’t technically actually a king, but runs Hatchetfield’s monster community like he is one. a close encounter with a band of monster hunters the better part of a century ago forced the monsters into hiding under his command, and Steph’s mother ended up staked. Solomon hasn’t been the same since…

Max:

his design is simpler than the others, but that’s for a reason :) the mansters usually have more boring outfits than the ghouls, so it’s not that out of place for Monster High, right? i plan to make a few more ‘doll lines’ for this au- i’m thinking Dawn of the Dance next ;)

his jacket is based on the G1 varsity jackets that Heath Burns and Slo Mo had in their first waves, but with Max’s iconic blue. i got rid of the Hatchetfield ‘H’ since he goes to Sycamore with the other normies in this AU. go Timberwolves, i guess?

his striped shirt is based on Freddy Krueger’s iconic sweater, because Max in the musical seems to take a lot of cues from Freddy; coming back from the dead to get revenge on his killers, vulgar one-liners, gruesome kills, and even a parody of the Freddy rhyme painted on the set background. one, two, Jäger’s coming for you…

side note but i had a really hard time getting Will’s likeness in this pseudo-MH style. i think he ended up a bit too Bruce Campbell-y. maybe it’s the chin.

Grace:

sorry, Grace, i’m changing your name a bit. if you need a refresher on the G1 MH lore; Van Hellscream is the Monster High expy of Van Helsing. his niece Lilith appears in the Ghouls Rule movie, but i’m stretching out the timeline a bit so let’s say Lilith is Grace’s aunt or something. Chasity is her maiden name, which the family goes by because “Hellscream doesn’t sound very Christian”

these days, the Van Hellscream’s monster-hunting legacy is more of a family legend than history, and her parents don’t even believe that monsters exist… but Grace knows that something unholy is going on at that “private school”. she may not have Great-Uncle Abraham’s arsenal, but she has the power of God and years of repressed rage on her side

design wise she changed the least from her canon outfit. she’s covered in monster-killing weapons- crosses, stakes, silver bullets, and the flowers on her blouse and jeans are alliums, aka garlic flowers- which, fun fact, were originally thought to be what repelled vampires, rather than garlic bulbs!

her blouse is based on Nancy’s nightdress in Nightmare on Elm Street to match with Max’s Freddy stripes

[halalgirlmeg]

5 Campaigns for Palestinians that need our help

Do you feel like you see people campiagning for funds and aren't sure who to help? Don't worry I got 5 campaigns picked out for you. Pick one and give 5, then tell your friend to pick one of the other four and donate 5 (or maybe you can't do 5 but how about 10, or 3, anything helps please don't forget)

There's Shimaa, the 20 year old computer scientist. She and her family are trying to rebuild what they have lost as the ceasefire looms this upcoming Sunday on the 19th. Shimaa's university is also gone, it has been lost to bombings and she is trying to focus on school. I am collecting funds for her on my PayPal which you can send here as we are a little over our current goal at 225 and we need to reach 400. @im-smart-i-swear is also offering commissions in exchange for proof of your help.

There is Safaa, the 26 year old Lawyer Mom who is the absolute sweetest, and needs our help. Currently she is trying to help raise money for her sick mother, which is going to cost ber 200 dollars. She also has a husband and child that she needs to help take care of alongside taking care of her own needs. They are also hoping to cross the border to Egypt when possible and we know that is not cheap so give what you can.

https://chuffed.org/project/118983-support-safaas-quest-to-get-her-family-to-safety

There is also Moataz, he is eighteen trying to campaign for this entire family. His goal is almost done but he still needs a few hundred to finish and we can't let it stagnate when he is so close. I cannot imagine being so young and having all of this on his shoulders so I know we can help him reach his goal.

Maysara is campaigning in order to support his family which includes his parents who are both disabled and 9 brothers and sisters and his campaign is very very low (like 85 out of 30,000) and he needs all the help we are able to offer him.

And last but not least is Mahmoud, he was recently sick and is recovering and he like many others, like everyone else listed here needs money to pay for basic survival for food clothes and battling the harsh weather of winter. He's gotten like 1000 out of 10000 so while he has some he still has a ways to go.

[nadvs]

the act of unravelling (part five) (end)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

< prev

Rafe knocks again. And again. And again.

Your front door rattles in its frame, his knuckles still sore from the punches he threw at the bonfire last night.

He sat in the holding cell after being questioned by Brading, ruminating over everything he’ll say to you when he sees you. He needs to tell you that you’re right; the detective is onto you both.

Brading brought up your name, asking about Porter, asking what Rafe had over you that would make you want to protect him.

He’s confident you’re both guilty, but he doesn’t have the evidence to prove it. He’d booked him on a drug charge, telling him they’d searched his bedroom and found enough coke to arrest him for more than just possession.

His questions had nothing to do with that.

He demanded Rafe tell him about Porter, trying to provoke him into a confession. As he sat in the small, dingy interrogation room, your words echoed in his head. I don’t think we should talk to him without a lawyer.

So, he didn’t. Brading gave up and threw him back into his cell. Rafe would’ve lost his temper if he didn’t have you to protect.

The lawyer came in with Ward early this morning. After Rafe told him about the arrest, the lawyer explained that Brading had abused his power by not providing Rafe with his right to make a phone call.

Rafe couldn’t make eye contact with his father as he was escorted into a courtroom for the bail hearing an hour later. The lawyer was well worth the money Rafe is sure his father is paying him. He was given a court date and granted bail, which Ward covered.

“I’m sorry I got mixed up in this, okay?” Rafe had muttered to his father in the car on their way home. “I’ll get clean. I’ll stop selling.”

“You should know better,” Ward sighed. “The cops showing up to our house like that… what are you thinking?”

“I’m not,” he said.

“And what was that… about that missing kid? You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”

His own father jumping to the worst conclusion, even though it’s true, pierced the wound Rafe has held in his heart since childhood. He’s nothing but a disappointment. A stain on the family name.

Now, he’s at your front door, and he’s been knocking for what feels like five straight minutes. Nobody’s answering. The house looks empty. The car is gone.

He checks his phone again to see it’s almost two in the afternoon. All his texts and calls to you have gone undelivered.

He can’t even entertain the thought that you’re doing it on purpose; he knows you’re loyal to him. He never thought he’d trust somebody the way he trusts you, but he does, and he would never expect you to turn on him.

He needs to find you.

He makes his way to the country club, figuring you must be at work. When he rushes to the restaurant, tapping the bartop, he impatiently asks where you are.

The bartender looks at Rafe with a look he can’t quite read.

“Who are you?” he asks.

“I’m her boyfriend,” Rafe says. It’s the first time he used that title, but it feels right for what he has with you. “Is she working today or not?”

“Oh… I…” The bartender uneasily looks around the room. “I shouldn’t be the one to... I don’t…”

“What?” Rafe snaps.

“Our boss told us this morning,” he responds, his expression pained. He leans closer, hesitating as he says, “She was in a car accident and she didn’t make it. I’m sorry, man. I wish I wasn’t the one to tell you.”

Rafe straightens, his body flooding with a sharp, harrowing chill.

“You…” He shakes his head. “You got something wrong. You don’t– you’re confused.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know her that well, but…” The bartender nervously shrugs. “Everyone liked her.”

Liked her. Liked. You’re not in the past tense. You’re here. You’re somewhere around here. The ringing in his ears grows louder. The man only shakes his head, frowning in sympathy.

“You’re confused,” Rafe repeats. “What did– who told you that?”

“My boss,” he tells him again.

Rafe erratically rushes out of the building, starting his car even though he doesn’t know where to go, and looks ahead with a blank stare as his chest heaves.

“No,” he mutters to himself, his voice strained. “No, this is– he’s fucking wrong. This is…”

There’s no way this is real.

He pulls his phone out to call you. Again, it doesn’t even ring. His phone beeps with the dropped call notification. He tries again. Nothing.

His limbs are shaking, eyes burning with tears. A mistake. It’s a mistake. He just needs to find another way to contact you.

He opens a social media app to message you there. Before he can type in the search bar, a smiling photo of you is at the top of his feed.

It’s a news article. Local woman dead after late night crash. The post caption reads: This is crazy. She was so young :( Rest in peace.

He taps to read the comments, reading worthless prayers and canned condolences as he keeps scrolling, every roll of his thumb making him sicker.

He finds the article. Saliva coats his tongue and he’s sure he’s about to throw up as he reads it.

The vehicle was traveling southbound… Ran off the roadway… Pronounced deceased on scene.

No. You were just with him last night, a living, breathing, beautiful girl telling him you care about him, your touch warm and soft and real.

Deceased. That cold, final word doesn’t describe you. It can’t.

He barely makes it in time to open his door and vomit on the concrete. When he slams his hands over his steering wheel, he does it until his palms throb in pain. He cries until his throat burns.

No. This can’t be real.

╰┈➤ three weeks later

The town you live in now is in a land-locked state with an even smaller population than Kildare. The agent in charge of your case gave you and your parents everything you needed to assume your new lives.

Your old one ended on a road back home, covered up with a story that you’d lost control of your friend’s car and died on impact.

You’re sitting in the therapist’s office, picking at a loose string on your shirt. The protection program placed you with a clinical psychologist who specializes in trauma recovery, but you worry you’ll never be able to rid yourself of the paralyzing pain that has sept into your heart.

You come here once a week. You’re supposed to be moving on, setting roots here, accepting your new identity.

But you haven’t and you can’t. You’re not allowed to contact anyone, but every day, more and more, you yearn to find a way to tell the people you love that you’re okay, to put them out of their grief and misery.

You wouldn’t dare take the risk, but you’re constantly checking on what you left on the island, searching news sites and social media for anything you can find through a faceless account.

Rafe’s arrest record is public. Sale and distribution of an illegal substance. You know now that Brading arrested him for coke that night. You’re sure he did it just to get Rafe in custody to be able to intimidate him into talking about Porter.

You know nothing else about him. He hasn’t posted anything since you left. His name only comes up on the law enforcement website, offering no further information on a trial or a sentencing.

When you look up your friends, seeing the photos and messages they posted in memoriam of you never gets easier. You left JJ and Pope and John B with the shock of seeing you in Rafe’s arms, then you left in JJ’s car, unknowingly racing towards your faked death.

The investigation on Porter has hit a dead end. The last article came out a week ago titled: Family seeks closure as disappearance of Porter Arnoult remains a mystery.

And the man who shot Brading, who made a full recovery, is still at large, meaning you’re still in danger.

“Come on in,” your therapist says gently, peeking out her office door.

You settle in the worn seat. You’ve told this woman everything but for the truth about the night that was the catalyst to the mess your life has become.

You promised Rafe you’d keep the secret to the grave. You meant it.

·········

The heaviest, sharpest ache sits in Rafe’s chest as he stands at your final resting place, as he reads your name in stone, a hyphen between two years that are much too close to each other.

There was no funeral. Word had gotten around that your parents were too distraught and left town shortly after the accident.

His head is pounding with his hangover, his body weak from the booze and coke he’s been pumping into it.

Stay out of trouble. That’s what his lawyer told him. But his court date is in a couple of days and he’s done everything but. This is the first time he’s come to your grave and he feels like a piece of shit for waiting so long, but he couldn’t do it.

He never deserved you. A piece of him knew, gnawed at him, that you’d realize he didn’t measure up. But he was ready to try, for once in his life, to be better.

And then, you were taken from him. And the idea of paying his respect to a girl who’s nothing but a memory now is not for your benefit. It’s for the grieving, and while he’s not worthy of that relief, he came to the cemetery in case he won’t get the chance again for a long time.

He’ll likely be going to prison soon. His lawyer said the best case scenario is a reduced sentence and a heavy fine.

Rafe’s numb to it. It’s why he’s been getting fucked up at parties, telling anyone who asks about you or him to shut up because he knows they don’t care. All he does is get wasted and open his wallet only to buy more shit to dull the pain.

You were a light in the clouds that always consumed him, and because you’d followed him after he’d gotten arrested, you died.

He’ll never forgive himself for the fact that caring for him is what killed you.

╰┈➤ one week later

It’s Rafe’s last night of freedom.

He was sentenced to 14 months. His life is fucked. All because he was an idiot who decided to sell coke.

Brading sat in the courtroom as the arresting officer, looking bitter, likely because his plan to get Rafe to crack about Porter’s case never worked.

His lawyer told him it was a win to get such a short sentence, as if living behind bars can ever be considered some sort of victory. He’s being locked up tomorrow, a nasty blotch on his record, a traumatic experience waiting for him.

He’s at a party on Figure Eight, dipped into a numbing high on a couch. Coke and booze coarse through his veins. He’s subconsciously been hoping that it’d kill him before he has to go to prison.

It’s been a month since you died. The hole in his chest only digs itself deeper, burying him alive. He ignores the people who pretend to care about him, remembering how they’d acted when rumors spread about him doing something to Porter.

He knows this will follow him forever, being suspected for Porter’s disappearance, being connected to you, the innocent girl who got involved with him then tragically passed away.

He doesn’t care what people think. He thought he was lethargic before. That was nothing.

He gets lost in the high, hearing the people and the music around him, catching flashes of phones in the crowd as people celebrate life while he wishes his would just end.

“What were you doing with her?”

Rafe’s vision blurs and refocuses until he can see who’s standing over him in the crowded living room. It’s Pope, his nostrils flared in anger.

JJ and John B stand close behind, disgusted looks on their faces.

“Fuck off,” Rafe slurs.

“What were you doing with her?” JJ shouts louder. A few heads turn at the noise.

Rafe’s jaw tenses in anger. His body is heavy, but he pushes himself off the couch, staring at your friends, knowing they have no fucking clue how badly he’s been suffering without you.

“She didn’t want to tell you,” Rafe mutters, “because she knew you assholes would make her feel bad about it.”

“She’s… she’s fucking dead because of you,” JJ says, his voice laced with tears. “She was on the road because of you.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Rafe yells. He swore on his life that you’d always be safe with him. He deserves to die.

He has nothing to lose. He shoves JJ down onto the floor, landing a single punch before he’s pulled back and struck in the jaw with a hard fist.

Rafe spits out blood, his neck at the crook of the couch, knowing no amount of physical pain could come close to matching how bad his heart hurts.

·········

When you see Rafe in the background of a Kook’s social media story, your breath hitches. He’s sprawled out on a couch, head tipped back, lips parted and eyes rolling.

You know it’s stupid. You know you’re putting yourself in danger by doing it. You’re not supposed to contact a soul from your past life.

But he looks near death in the video.

You go to Rafe’s account and start to type with trembling fingers. You’re using the burner account you made, a fake name with no photo, but you hope reminding him of something only you two would remember is enough.

It’s me. The girl you always gave a $50 to at the club. I’m okay. I had to go into hiding. I had no choice. Please take care of yourself and don’t tell anyone about me. I miss you.

You don���t see his reply until you wake up the next day. What kind of sick joke is this?

It’s not a joke, you respond. I used to tell you all the time not to call me a Pogue, remember? I know this is confusing. I wish it wasn’t like this. I’m sorry.

He doesn’t respond. You don’t blame him. He thinks it’s a twisted prank. But even though it was a stupid risk to take, you’re glad you tried. You just wish it worked.

A day later, you unsend your messages and delete your account just in case.

╰┈➤ sixteen months later

“It’s completely your choice,” the program agent continues, sitting in the living room of the home you still don’t consider home. “We set you and your family up for permanent placement, but the man you saw was captured with his associates and died in a shoot-out. We’re confident you’re no longer in danger. You can choose to stay here, or go back.”

You look at your parents with wide eyes, in utter disbelief. It’s been over a year. You all have jobs and friends and a foundation now, even though it’s built on lies.

But you’ve been aching to go home since the day you moved here. And you’re going back to the island, with or without your parents.

╰┈➤ three days later

The flight was painfully long. You came alone. Your parents didn’t feel the need to go back in time and come here. They don’t have the ties you do to home.

The fact that they could watch you leave was confirmation that all you shared with them was a last name. You always felt alone around them. You never had their love. Not really. It’s why you clung to your friends.

Kildare’s salty breeze is the same. Even the way the sun hits here feels unique. You keep the window of your rental car down as you drive through familiar streets.

You’d considered contacting your friends before finding them, but what happened with Rafe would likely happen with them. They’d think it was a cruel prank. They wouldn’t believe you.

It’s a sunny afternoon. You knock on JJ’s door. Your heart is in your throat. You’ve been discreetly keeping up with what your friends publicly post. It seems life here never changes much.

You crave the familiarity. The peace.

The door swings open. JJ stares at you like he’s seen a ghost. You expected as much.

“Hi,” your voice is thin, what you rehearsed coming out rushed. “I witnessed a crime and I was put into protection. They had to fake my death and put me somewhere safe. But I’m not in danger anymore. And they let me come back.”

He doesn’t have the words. You don’t blame him. He pulls you in and this is what you’ve been missing so agonizingly – feeling wanted.

He invites the guys over and after a tearful reunion and a long catch-up, you finally ask them about Rafe, terrified you’ll hear the worst, even though you’ve been keeping up with local news.

“He just got outta jail,” JJ says.

“For what?” you ask, worried he took the fall for what you did to Porter.

“Selling coke,” he says. “I think he got like, a year. I’m pretty sure his dad paid to get it scrubbed from the internet.”

“He kind of went crazy after you…” Pope trails off. “Crazier than usual. But since he got out, he’s not bothering us. He’s just quiet. He’s different now.”

You nod, desperate to go see him.

“What happened that night?” JJ asks. “Were you and him… like, a thing?”

“Yeah,” you say. “He’s… He wasn’t who we always thought he was. I was surprised, too. It happened really fast. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore,” JJ says.

You give him a grateful smile, knowing it won’t take long at all to get used to this again, to being your old self with your old friends. You left, but your heart stayed here.

·········

Rafe’s sister is visibly in shock to see you when you show up at the Camerons’ doorstep later that afternoon. You tell her what happened, sure the gossip will spread before you even step foot off the property, and ask her where Rafe is.

She tells you he went out on the family’s boat. You thank her and head over to the marina.

·········

Rafe spent every day in prison thinking about those messages he got the night before he was put behind bars. The person behind the account knew things only you would.

It might have been a twisted joke or someone’s way of keeping him above water while he wished he could drown.

But nobody would care enough about him to do that. Only you.

He never saw a response after he replied, and fourteen months later, when he got his phone back, the messages and the account were gone.

It’s been nearly a year and a half since you left. Hope is a ridiculous thing. He doesn’t even consider it your death anymore. You left.

The only thing that kept him going through his monotonous, soul-draining time in prison was the nearly invisible shred of hope that it really was you who sent him those messages.

He wishes he could remember the account name. It was a random assortment of letters and numbers. Sometimes, he’s convinced he dreamed it, like his survival instinct kicked in and made him hallucinate the possibility that you didn’t actually die.

He gazes out at the deep blue water, white caps tumbling over the waves as the boat bobs with the tides.

After you, he missed the sea most.

You remember where his boat was parked. Every detail of that night is burned into your mind. Vowing to keep the secret in the beach house, dragging the body over the dock, planning your alibis on his boat.

There haven’t been any developments in the case. Porter’s body is still out there somewhere, your secret lying with him.

Your heart stops when you spot Rafe’s back as he pulls a rope on his parked boat. His hair is buzzed now, his back broader and his arms larger than you remember. You close the distance, almost falling off the dock when you approach his boat because you’re that awestruck.

You’ve dreamt of this moment. You weren’t sure it’d ever come.

He turns, wrapping the rope around the cleat of the boat, squinting under the sun. He breathes a quiet grunt as he tightens the rope, then stands and surveys it.

Something catches the corner of his eye. He looks up. And pure relief washes over his handsome face.

Rafe rushes towards you like you might disappear if he doesn’t reach you fast enough. He jumps off the edge and nearly knocks the wind out of you when he surrounds you in his heavy arms, squeezing you.

Tears prick your eyes, and suddenly, you’re sobbing. From disbelief. From relief. From love.

“I knew it,” he whispers shakily, nuzzled into your neck. “I knew it. I knew it. Fuck.”

Your eyes are shut as he holds you, both of you suspended, bobbing boats creaking around you, gulls crying in the sky.

He finds the strength to pull back, meeting your eyes. Those eyes. They never left his mind. He knew you were out there and he wondered what they were seeing every single day.

You gaze up at him, vision blurred from your tears. Safety. That’s what he feels like to you. Like nothing can hurt you.

“I missed you,” you say in a whisper, but the words can’t possibly represent how painful life has been, how much you’ve been worrying about him.

“Me, too,” he says, cupping your cheek like you might break, like you’re a dream that might slip away. “I can’t believe…”

You nod. You can’t believe much of what’s happening, either.

·········

You’re in Rafe’s arms until the sun goes down, sitting in the hull of his parked boat, not wanting to part for even a second to allow him to drive out into the water. You don’t need to go anywhere. You want to be rooted with him.

You sat here once before, in a past life of a past life, conspiring and coming up with a story to cover up the murder.

“I never forgot what you did when I got arrested,” Rafe says into your ear, your back flush against his chest, the sun an orange sliver on the horizon. “Yelling at that asshole not to hurt me.”

“It was horrible seeing him do that to you,” you murmur, remembering how hard Brading had pushed him against the car to handcuff him. “He eventually gave up, huh? I kept checking the news, but the case went cold?”

“Yeah. He left town,” Rafe tells you. “He had no evidence. We got rid of it all.”

You nod with a long sigh.

“How was it?” you ask.

You don’t have to say it. He knows you’re asking about prison.

“Knowing you were okay kept me through it,” he admits. You turn to meet his pained blue eyes.

“It’s all behind us now,” you say.

He presses his lips against yours, warm and tender and soft, dismissing the cold that’d been sitting in your soul since you were forced to leave.

Epilogue

You’ll always feel the void of the year and a half that you were gone deep in your heart. But as time goes by, it gets smaller and smaller.

You’d planned to stay with one of your friends while you found your footing to get your own place, but Rafe insisted he buy you a condo, saying it’d be the best use of his money.

He hadn’t expected to still have access to his family’s bank account, but his father seemed to see a difference in him after prison.

You see a change in him, too. You mention it to him sometimes, how his temper has completely faded away.

“Still like me, though?” he once asked, half-joking.

“I love you,” you told him. It was the first time you said the word and his heart felt like it was going to burst. He kissed you hard and told you he loved over and over.

Rafe comes over all the time, preparing meals together, making up for lost time.

One night, as he dozes off next to you in your bed, you realize you still don’t regret your crime and if you don’t by now, you never will.

Sometimes you wonder if you should be remorseful for taking a life. But that man was evil and the world is a better place without him. People die, but the past doesn’t, and while you may carry it with you forever, you wouldn’t take it back.

Your eyes slowly trail over Rafe’s face in the dim light, your heart pounding as you think about how you got here, two broken people who found each other on a terrifying night.

It’s all still so crystal clear in your mind. The blood on his face the night it happened. The way he held you when you told him what your real motive was. The tears in his eyes when he reunited with you.

You pull a blanket over him. He’s everything to you now. And like your love, your secret remains between you two, binding you together forever.

(the end)

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Malicious Daughter is Back! - 1 | Bucky Barnes

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

It was supposed to be easy, but it's not.

He felt his hands and sensed they were shackled to this agreement. While everyone chatted and laughed at this lunch party, he couldn't share the same sentiment.

Today was the engagement party of two influential conglomerate families.

The daughter of Celestial Enterprises, which owned Luxury Goods, Smart Home Technology, Media & Entertainment, was Victoria Sinclair.

She was a strikingly beautiful woman, exuding an air of sophistication, yet there was a hint of maturity beneath her seemingly spoiled demeanor.

With a shy gesture, she reached out and gently touched her fiancé's hand. Her soft touch snapped him out of his daydream.

She gazed at his face, mesmerized by his striking features. He could easily be the most handsome man she had ever encountered in her life. Despite meeting countless models and actors, none of them held a candle to him.

Bucky Barnes was the epitome of sophistication. With his jet-black hair, piercing blue eyes, and impeccable suit, he exuded an aura of intelligence and quiet confidence.

As the heir to the AstraNova Group, specializing in aerospace, renewable energy, and real estate, his wealth and influence were undeniable.

He felt something creeping on his hands, he glanced down to see his fiancée Victoria touching him. Despite his discomfort, he clenched his fists, fighting the urge to lash out.

But he had to keep it together. Tonight, his psychiatrist would have to listen to his anxiety. He couldn't let anyone at this party know about his Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD).

He was overly sensitive to sensory input, including touch. In this room, only his parents knew about his disorder.

Bucky smiled and gently pushed Victoria's hand away from him. He could only tolerate it for five minutes. But it seemed this woman didn't understand him.

If she were just another woman, Bucky would have instructed his assistant to escort Victoria away. But he couldn't do that.

Because this woman was necessary, in fact. Her family's money was crucial. This was a business marriage. Bucky wasn't a social man, so when his family arranged the marriage, he complied with their wishes.

He thought he could go along with it, but his disorder acted up every time he got close to Victoria. She was glued to him.

"Fuck," he thought. He wished his parents had chosen a woman who preferred shopping over clinging to him.

"Look at this couple. Hohoho… Like newlyweds," remarked Victoria's mother, Genevieve, a woman around 50 years old, exuding opulence in her elegant gown adorned with intricate lace and jewels.

"What a joyful day," nodded Bucky's mother, Juliana, a woman of similar age, dressed in a modest yet tasteful attire, her eyes fixed on her son who appeared calm. However, she couldn't help but notice Victoria's persistent touching.

She prayed that Bucky wouldn't lose his patience.

"By the way, where is the oldest daughter?" slipped one of the guests, causing a ripple of unease among the attendees.

Even Victoria lost interest in getting close to Bucky. She stopped leaning toward him and sat up straight.

Her silent expression mirrored Genevieve's, catching Bucky's attention.

This was the first Bucky had heard of another daughter.

“You have an older sister?” Bucky asked Victoria.

Victoria responded with a nervous voice, “I do... She's... how should I say this? She's complicated. She's never at home. And when she is, all we do is fight.”

Bucky nodded, understanding her explanation. An estranged sister.

But he had never come across any mention of this in his fiancée's family background.

Were they hiding their other daughter? An illegitimate child?

Bucky noticed Victoria's father, Jonathan, a distinguished man in his sixties, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, who had stopped drinking and focused his attention on the table.

Genevieve laughed elegantly and remarked, “Haha… She doesn't enjoy these kinds of events. She prefers outdoor activities.”

On the first day of their engagement, Bucky found himself embroiled in family drama.

Then, a voice from outside could be heard, “I'm sorry, miss. This room has been booked,” said the security.

“It's booked for Sinclair and Barnes, right? What a coincidence. I'm a Sinclair too,” a playful female voice retorted.

‘BANG.’

The private door burst open from a forceful kick, startling the guests.

All eyes turned toward the newcomer.

Even Bucky turned around to see who it was.

She was wearing black leather boots, black pants, and a gray turtleneck sweater. Her attire stood out starkly against the elegance of the room.

She looked at everyone, then stopped at Victoria and Bucky. Then she scoffed, causing Victoria to clench her fist and bite her lips.

Compares to Bucky. He wondered what had happened to her. She was wearing a hand cast, a band-aid under her right eye, and small new scars under her lips.

Two things he realized were that her demeanor and facial features were different from Victoria's.

Victoria nervously laughed, "We thought you wouldn't come."

💋💋💋

You smirked and grabbed a glass of wine from the server who was serving drinks.

With a bow, you said, “Congrats on the engagement. Pardon my lateness. Seems like a rat ate your invitation.”

Victoria forced a smile, determined not to take the bait, especially in front of her fiancé, Bucky, to avoid any confrontation.

You walked past the couple and headed towards your father, Jonathan.

He showed no reaction, simply sipping his wine.

Standing beside him, you didn't even glance at Genevieve, who gritted her teeth, continuing to smile at the Barnes family.

You said to your dad, “Is this what your wife asked for? I must say I'm impressed.”

Bucky was taken aback when he heard that. What did it mean?

Genevieve gripped her wine glass tightly. The stories of her as ‘the other woman’ were in the past. She had worked hard to be accepted in this socialite world, and it had made everyone forget that she was the second wife. Everyone had called her Madam Sinclair, and Victoria the only daughter.

You shrugged your shoulders. “I'm just impressed that my sister could join the Barnes household. She didn't have to steal someone's husband like her mom.”

Victoria gasped and started sobbing.

Genevieve exclaimed, “How could you make your sister cry?”

You drank the wine in one gulp and put the empty glass on the table. “I want to vomit when I call her my sister. I need that wine to clean my tongue.”

Genevieve looked at her husband and whispered, “Jonathan, stop your daughter.”

You looked at your father, who was also looking at you, both of you silent. This is the relationship between father and daughter. Both of you used to be close, but everything changed after the other woman entered the family.

He won't say anything. He never does.

Turning to the new couple, you observed Victoria drinking water and her fiancé Bucky.

You didn't know much about him. What an unlucky man, you thought.

Walking towards him, you stopped in front of Bucky.

Bucky was looking at you too.

You said, “She throws away everything that I own or touch. I wonder…”

Your fingers touched his chin, and your face came close to his. You could see his eyes clearly.

You smirked and said, “I wonder if she still wants you after I do this.”

What you did next made everyone gasp.

Victoria screamed, “Get your lips away from him,” as she pushed you away from Bucky, acting as a barrier.

You wiped your lips, achieving your goal of seeing Victoria panicked.

With a salute gesture, you said, “I've got what I wanted. Goodbye, everyone,” and left the party.

Victoria grumbled, looking at Bucky and touching his hand. “Are you okay? I'm sorry. If you're mad at my sister, I apologize.”

Bucky pushed her away from him, his action shocking her slightly, but understandable since he had just been kissed by a stranger.

Bucky remained silent, not because he was angry, but because he had a million questions.

His disorder prevented him from being touched by someone, and yet he had just been kissed.

This is also his first kiss.

And... he didn't vomit.

Bucky looked at the closing door, wondering where you had gone.

He knew he had to see you again.

Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[phoenixcatch7]

Something that always bugs me is that the way fanfic authors have it, there's absolutely nothing between 'beloved son treated and raised precisely the same as the two blood siblings in the blood based ruling lineage' and 'despised and excluded indentured servant psychologically manipulated into having no self worth cut off from any emotional support'. This is, historically, a very, VERY recent binary, as the fostering system outgrows things like orphanages and the idea of the nuclear family is cemented.

There is a whole range of different statuses that exist between those two extremes just in Western society, and more than that outside of what I already know. Wardship, for example. Fostering without adoption. Room and board apprenticeship.

Wwx is older than jc. Him being adopted and legitimised, despite not being jiang, would cause a succession crisis. By rights, as the eldest male (and prodigious and well liked besides) he would be first to inherit in some people's eyes. Being adopted formally in this way would cause those rumours of bastardry madame yu was always banging on about (though I'm never convinced those rumours were as prevalent as she believed). Jfm would lose reputation and status, yzy would take a tremendous hit to her reputation, jc's place as heir would suddenly be cast into uncertainty, coming under intense scrutiny as people suddenly feel as though they had a choice in who to support, and wwx would be forced into a role and potential future he has absolutely no desire for. And by putting him in a position where he could become head of jiang, there's the risk that he might assassinate jc to become the undisputed heir, something impossible if he isn't brought into the family officially. Would wwx ever dream of doing so? No! Not even slightly! But it is a valid fear of the time and culture, jgy just proves that worst case scenario.

Instead of being the child prodigy coming out of nowhere, the son of respected rogue cultivators so generously taken in the jiang and well trained, suddenly he'd be 'proof' of infidelity, both families involved would become scandals, even post-humeously. As jgy and mxy prove, being a bastard is a lower social status than the right hand man of the sect heir, head disciple of a major sect. Now wrapped in gossip and scandal, they would no longer be called the prides of yunmeng.

And then of course that kind of divisive succession would backfire horrendously when lotus pier is burned and jc tries to rebuild the clan while wwx goes demonic cultivator! It would be DISASTROUS for the jiang, jc having lost a lot of his legitimacy and political support, wwx's now filthy reputation being tied even tighter to the clan, reflecting on them so much more. Worst case gossip would be that the jiang as a whole are turning to demonic cultivation. People who wanted wwx for heir would be in a very dangerous position! People who disliked jc as heir would make it even harder for him! Not that the jiangs would/could have predicted the war and the burning of the sect but fr it would have made an already nigh impossible situation even harder and more volatile.

And it's not like wwx is treated purely like a servant! He isn't going round fetching tea and carrying jcs sword and keeping one step behind. He eats every meal with them, he gets pocket money from them, he is openly and pretty universally considered siblings with the other two, and nobody except yzy acts like it's weird, or he's acting above his station for it (though people like the wens and jin aren't above trying to use that 'son of a servant' thing when they're targeting him to get their own way).

Yes, yzy is deeply insecure and blames him, yes during their goodbyes jc gets hugs and wwx gets orders. They're far from perfect. That's the most affection jc ever got from either of them. Jyl got nothing, she wasn't there. Which is pretty representative of her treatment from her parents, ngl. But wwx had support from jc, had sorta paternal support and a safe authority figure in jfm, had maternal support and care from jyl (though she shouldn't have had to, but that's a different conversation). There are actual family servants (yzy's twins) who grew up with her and were trained for it and they act very differently to wwx. For all yzy throws her weight around and jfm is a bit of a doormat, wwx grew up well cared for and well loved.

The fact that the family as a whole was pretty messed up and his part in it made it worse? That's on the family members themselves. His never arriving would not have fixed that family. For wwx, genuinely, there really wasn't anywhere else he could really go once he was orphaned. If he hadn't died on the streets perhaps he could have made it as a civilian working for someone else, dabbling in cultivation because we know him.

The wen and jin would have eaten him alive. The lans? Don't make me laugh. I love a good 'wwx gets betrothed to lwj as teens and he moves to gusu and Fixes Everything' as much as the next person but let's not kid ourselves, canon wwx would have ended up whipped to death or expelled with the way he is. As a visiting disciple he got so many punishments and kicked out not even halfway through the year! Him living there with lwj as adults is due to him 'redeeming' himself through mystery solving and lwj being fully, openly ready to ditch the sect for him. Even then they're constantly on the road night hunting and lwj being the lightning rod of all of wwx's trouble making tendencies (and being 100% down to breaking the rules with him without enacting punishment). They might accept him now but it would not have happened without lwj doing it first (and the juniors all loving him lol).

The nie? Maybe, but that would have left NHS in pretty much the exact same position as jc: inferior second fiddle, unskilled, constantly compared to him. Wwx would be in the exact same position of being pressured to tone himself down and keep his dangerous ideas to himself, and NHS would have double the fear of inevitably losing both his brothers. And of course, the nie aren't exactly as patient and laid back as the jiang sect as a whole, with their hyper aggressive murder resentment swords. The first sign of wwx acting 'outside' of the clans best interests and getting risky and he's going straight down those stairs the same way as jgy.

Tldr: there's more options to raise a kid than full adoption or abused servitude, even today, and though officially adopting wwx would have made everything SO much worse, his other options would not have survived him. He deserved better with the jiangs but frankly so did the blood kids (and the mother and the father). All three were emotionally neglected and adoption would not have fixed that.

This is why I believe that if wwx had been even a day younger than jc everyone would have been so much happier.

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

Ohh for the prompt maybe Edwin & Crystal friendship with number 11!?!?

Thank you for the prompt! I combined it with a paraphrased version of #28, which @coraline-piange requested for Edwin and Crystal.

11. “They shouldn’t treat you like that.”

28. “...I don’t hate you.” “...you don’t?”

Edwin finds her hiding out on the balcony, huddled in the dark while inside, music plays and her parents and their friends laugh and mingle. Crystal is torn between being annoyed that he followed her and being secretly, shamefully relieved. She wishes he hadn’t showed up in the middle of the party to ask her about a case, wishes that he hadn’t just seen her mother lay into her while all her parents' friends watched and tittered. But if he is here, she’s glad that he didn’t leave her alone.

He doesn’t say anything for several minutes, just folds his hands on top of the balcony railing and stays quiet. They stand side by side, watching the lights of the city far below. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wails and Crystal wonders if there will be a new ghost showing up at the Agency’s doors soon.

“They shouldn’t treat you like that,” Edwin finally says.

Crystal swallows back a snappish reply. Instead, she says, “What she said wasn’t totally wrong. I did burn every bridge my parents ever built for me. I’m the one who got kicked out of every fancy school they sent me to and alienated all my friends and made sure no college will ever let me in unless my parents toss a ton of money at them.”

“Perhaps you would have burnt less bridges if you hadn’t been left alone with so many matches.” There’s a bite to Edwin’s voice.

She snorts. “Why do you think they leave me alone so much? It’s because I’m kind of the worst.”

“That isn’t true.”

“You know it is. You hate me.” Her voice cracks embarrassingly.

“Crystal.” His voice goes gentle in a way that’s so un-Edwin-like that she has to turn to make sure it’s really him. He’s looking down at her with a worried crease in his brow. “Of course I don’t hate you. Do you really think I do?”

Crystal can’t bring herself to answer.

“I find you difficult, stubborn, and often exasperating, but I do not hate you.”

She lets out a hoarse laugh. “Yeah, because you’re famously not any of those things.”

“Charles did once say that you and I are a lot alike.”

“He did not.”

“He did.”

“He’s lucky he’s cute,” she mutters, which gets a soft laugh from Edwin.

“I realize that you seem to think you were some sort of monster before you lost your memories.” He holds up a hand to cut off her reply. “But I’ve never known you to be anything but kind and compassionate to those who are in need of it. You are a real asset to the Agency, Crystal, and I’ve come to be glad of your presence.”

Crystal thinks she might cry, which is just so fucking embarrassing. After everything else tonight, she doesn’t need to cry in front of Edwin Payne.

“And I don’t think your mother knows you half as well as she seems to think,” he adds. “Given that you were in Port Townsend for weeks without her or your father noticing you were missing. In the month since we returned to London, I can count on one hand the number of nights you’ve slept at their house. Mostly, you’ve slept on a couch in an abandoned building in the company of two boys that your parents do not know. Perhaps your mother should spend less time bemoaning the bridges you’ve burned and spend more time thinking about her own behavior.”

Crystal turns her face away so he won’t see the tears gathering in her eyes.

“I am sorry, Crystal,” Edwin says. “Truly. You deserve better.”

“Yeah, well.” She clears her throat and shrugs. “I bet they’d say they deserved a better daughter.”

“I cannot imagine they would have treated a ‘better’ daughter with any more care than they’ve treated you.”

“Maybe not. But maybe they would’ve wanted to.” Surreptitiously, Crystal wipes her eyes. “What were your parents like?”

Edwin is silent for a moment and she wonders if she’s said the wrong thing. Finally, he says, “My father had very few interests outside of hunting, hounds, and women. Since I shared none of those interests, we had little to say to each other. He got on much better with my older brothers, who were very much cut from the same cloth. When he did pay me any mind, it was usually to make sure I knew what a disappointment I was.”

“He sounds like an asshole.”

“Perhaps,” Edwin says. “My mother was better, I think. She liked to read. She used to read to me, until my father put a stop to it. He worried her novels would make me soft.”

“Jesus Christ.” Crystal wants to reach back a hundred years in the past and shake Edwin’s father.

“He never thought I would make anything of myself. I do wonder what he would think, if he were here.”

“I think he’d be proud of you.”

“Unlikely, but thank you.” There’s an edge of ruefulness in his voice. “Running a detective agency for ghosts is certainly not what he would consider an accomplishment. Particularly since I do not have a single hound or mistress.”

Crystal snorts. “Charles says he tried to convince you to get a puppy back in ‘94.”

“He does enjoy bringing home strays.” He doesn’t need to add the silent, “like you.”

“Do you miss them?” Crystal asks.

“Sometimes,” he says after another brief pause. “But I miss who they were when I was small, before I realized what a disappointment I was to them. If that makes sense?”

“It does.” She nods. “It’s like how I miss who I thought my parents were when I didn’t have my memories. When I thought they missed me and were looking for me.”

“I’m sorry they aren’t the parents you thought they were.”

“Yeah.” Crystal wipes her eyes again. “And I’m sorry yours were shitty too.”

Edwin blows out a breath.

Her lips twitch. “Too much emotion for one night?”

“Far too much.”

From inside the penthouse, there’s a burst of shouting.

“Ah.” Edwin sounds smug. “Perhaps we should take our leave now.”

Crystal turns to stare at him. He’s wearing the little smile that he only gets when he knows he just cracked a case open. Or when Charles compliments him. “What did you do?”

“There was an unfortunate incident involving a bottle of wine and one of your mother’s paintings.”

Crystal slaps a hand over her mouth to muffle her laugh. “Which one?”

“That hideously tacky self-portrait.” At her incredulous look, he shrugs. “I didn’t care for the way she spoke to you. And in front of guests, too.”

“You know that self-portrait was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, right?”

“Absurd. I wouldn’t trade it for Charles’s jar of bees.” Edwin sniffs. “Anyway, I’m a ghost. Even if she could see me, what is she going to do, sue me?”

The shouting inside gets louder.

“Yeah, we should definitely get out of here,” Crystal says.

“I couldn’t agree more.” He holds an arm out to her. “There’s a case to solve, after all.”

She links her arm through his. “Thanks.”

Edwin flashes a small, pleased smile. “It was my pleasure.”

*** 

Angst and Hurt/Comfort Prompts

I'm going to try and do more prompt fills here on Tumblr in the future, time depending, so if anyone would like to be added to a tag list, please let me know!