#short ff

[nakajimaatsushii]

Somewhat more than friends - a_panicked_starfish - 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga) [Archive of Our Own]

Something I wrote for fun ✌🏼

[artalfons]

Be Estinien

Show up randomly

Be cool (and hot)

Leave

this is him the whole expansion and i think its very funny

[rikan-oo]

Jiuyuan Uni Au, where SY and SJ are both literature professors that have a beef with each other, but still get paired for lectures/practice lessons for same groups for some reason (It's actually Airplane's fault, but hey sometimes he needs a break from these two as much as other teaching stuff, so they neutralize each other).

SJ usually delivers lectures, and SY takes care of practice lessons. Despite similar elegant air, these two are different as night and day in their teaching methods. At Shen Jiu's lectures, students are afraid to take a breath, let alone ask questions. Meanwhile, SY loves conversations and debates on his lessons. He sometimes bullshits about plot on purpose to check whether students read material.

Nevertheless, SY and SJ have one other thing in common. They say passive-aggressive comments about each other or give backhanded compliments when nobody expects that. It fuels theories among students why would they hate each other, but it's so hilarious that students started to collect these questionable quotes and make fun of that. Also, I wholly believe that they would have nicknames because both of them are Shens. I bet it's confusing as hell, so SJ would be either Snape or Evil Queen. Meanwhile, SY is some kind of fairy.

Usually, SJ does lectures and SY — practice lessons, but once it was decided to swap them. Airplane was sick, so the other person made a new schedule. Top 10 Anime disasters. Meanwhile, more failing and bad grades were expected. Nobody could predict this shitstorm. It's all concentrated around one particular student, whose name was Luo Binghe. SY's favorite student and absolute teachers pet for him. Obviously, for SJ, it was hate from first sight. Many failed this course, and LBH was no different. He didn't get enough points because SJ was extra picky with grading his papers. LBH, all crying with puppy face, lamented to SY, and then shit hit the fan.

SY went to SJ, and they had a cat fight in their office after lessons. It started with accusations from both sides about bias. SJ saying that he obviously favors LBH and codles a beast who is too cocky, arrogant, and doesn't know his place. SY saying SJ is biased and hates LBH for his talent and cleverness, and also because LBH prefers SY's articles and analysis to SJ. Then, it proceeds to them criticizing each other and screaming. Naturally it ended with them making out (again) and having hatefuck (new!)

SJ was smug and obviously bragged to LBH with "I fucked your mum" energy. SJ: "Nobody is going to believe you anyway." (Wrong, LMY will eat this shit up and write a ff with love triangle, adding her brother and professor YQY to the mix. Somehow, all faculty know about its existence and students share it like a sacred torch) Boy is deeply traumatized by his teacher's sacrifice to pacify evil dragon. He promises SY a lifetime servitude. (SY: "No, Binghe, don't kneel, please. I don't need a lifetime servitude. Just you living a fulfilling life and pursuing academic endeavors is enough for me. " LBH: "Laoshiii *crying*). LBH won, but at what price. Press F for SY ass and LBH lovelife.

[luvoooenha]

Enhypen as Short n’ Sweet songs!

Warnings - clubs, slightly spicy scenes…? Idk - heartbreaks - crying - teasing - luv - fluff - anger - pls lmk if i missed some!

Word count - 2.4k

a/n! Loved sabrinas short n’ sweet deluxe album, i needed to do smth enha related to it I might start a serious of enha as different types of songs, artist, etc! if wanted pls lmk if you want to be apart of the taglist!

heeseung - juno

*Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit, God bless your dad's genetics*

The club was packed, neon lights casting a moody glow over the dance floor. Bodies moved in sync with the deep bass, but Y/N had eyes for only one person—Lee Heeseung.

He was leaning against the bar, one hand wrapped around a drink, the other resting casually in his pocket. He looked unfairly good, messy hair falling over sharp eyes, lips slightly parted as he took a slow sip. He wasn’t trying to stand out, but that only made him more magnetic.

Y/N smirked, stepping forward. She didn’t hesitate—she never did. Running her fingers lightly across his shoulder as she passed, she turned just enough to catch his attention.

“Dance with me.” Not a question. A demand.

Heeseung blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward in amusement. “Bossy, aren’t you?”

Y/N just raised an eyebrow. “Are you coming or not?”

He let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he followed her onto the dance floor.

The moment he stepped closer, Y/N turned, pressing herself against him, her hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm. She felt him inhale sharply, his hands hovering for just a second before settling at her waist.

“Damn,” he murmured, voice already lower than before.

She smirked, tilting her head just enough for her lips to brush his jaw. “Whole package, babe,” she whispered, dragging her fingers down his chest. “I like the way you fit.”

Heeseung let out a breath, his grip tightening instinctively. His hands slid lower, fingertips pressing into her hips like he needed something to ground him.

Y/N trailed a hand up, fingertips grazing his jaw before tilting his chin so he was looking straight into her eyes. “God bless your dad’s genetics,” she teased, lips curving into a knowing smile.

Heeseung swallowed hard, eyes darkening. “You’re dangerous,” he muttered, almost like a warning.

Y/N laughed, slow and sultry. “You just figuring that out now?”

Leaning in, she brushed her lips over the shell of his ear. “Now tell me, Heeseung… are you taking me home, or do I have to keep making you suffer?”

His jaw clenched, exhaling sharply—then, without another word, he grabbed her hand and led her straight out of the club.

Tonight, he was all hers.

rest of the members below the cut!

-

Jay - please please please

*Don't bring me to tеars when I just did my makeup so nice Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker*

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, tilting her head slightly as she admired her reflection. The blush sat just right on her cheeks, her eyeliner sharp enough to cut through whatever bullshit the night threw at her. If nothing else, she looked flawless. And tonight, that was all that mattered.

The second she stepped into the party, she spotted Jay across the room. Of course. He was always where she didn’t need him to be. Laughing with his friends, acting like everything between them hadn’t been unraveling for weeks. Acting like she wasn’t standing there, looking the best she ever had, for him to notice.

But then, he did notice.

Jay's gaze flickered to her, then down, like he couldn’t quite hold it. Like he knew what was coming.

"Y/N," he started, meeting her halfway across the room, voice just low enough for only her to hear. "Can we talk?"

She knew how these talks went. A carefully worded speech, a soft apology that felt more like an excuse. A way to let her down easy, as if she hadn't already braced for the fall.

"Make it quick," she said, arms crossed, voice steady despite the way her chest tightened.

Jay ran a hand through his hair. "I never wanted to hurt you."

That was it. The words that meant everything and nothing all at once.

Y/N exhaled sharply, her perfectly lined eyes stinging, but she refused to let the tears fall. Not now. Not when she'd spent an hour making sure her face told the world she was unbothered. Heartbreak was one thing—she could deal with that in private. But her pride? Her ego? That was a whole different battle.

She took a step back, chin high. "Jay, I swear, if you make me cry right now—" She let out a humorless laugh. "I just did my makeup so nice."

He opened his mouth, but she held up a hand. "Don’t. Just… don’t embarrass me."

And with that, she walked away, head high, heart aching, but not a single tear in sight.

-

Jake - bed chem

*Who's the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent?*

The party was alive with golden lights and pulsing bass, the kind that settled under your skin and made everything feel electric. Y/N wasn’t even sure why she had come—maybe for the distraction, maybe because she was tired of scrolling through her phone in bed, watching everyone else live their lives.

But now, standing near the entrance, drink in hand, she suddenly felt alert. Because of him.

A boy she didn’t recognize.

White jacket, dark hair, a presence that stood out even in the crowded loft. He was leaned against the counter, laughing at something someone had said, but it wasn’t the laugh that caught her—it was the way he carried himself. Effortless. Like he knew exactly who he was. Like he didn’t have to try.

And then he spoke.

Low, smooth, laced with something foreign, something that rolled off his tongue in a way that made her breath hitch.

Y/N nudged her friend, eyes still locked on him. “Who’s the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent?”

Her friend followed her gaze, then let out a knowing grin. “Jake. Just moved here a few months ago. Apparently, he’s trouble.”

Trouble.

The word clung to the air between them, stirring something inside her. She should probably walk away now. Find someone less trouble, less interesting. But she didn’t. Instead, she tilted her glass against her lips, letting the ice cool her throat, watching him over the rim.

As if sensing the attention, Jake glanced up.

Their eyes met.

And just like that, the whole party faded.

It wasn’t an accident—he knew exactly what he was doing. His gaze was steady, unreadable at first, then something shifted. A slow smirk, the kind that said, I see you staring. What are you gonna do about it?

Y/N held her ground, her heart picking up pace. She could look away, pretend she hadn’t been caught, but where was the fun in that?

So instead, she let her lips curl into a smirk of her own. A challenge. A promise.

And just like that, the night had suddenly become a lot more interesting.

-

Sunghoon - slim pickins 

*a boy who’s jacked and kind, can't find his ass to save my life*

Y/N sighed, crossing her arms as she stood in the middle of the store parking lot, watching Sunghoon spin in slow circles, utterly lost.

“It was right here,” he muttered, glancing around, as if the car would magically reappear if he stared hard enough.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You mean where every other car is parked except yours?”

Sunghoon huffed, running a hand through his hair. “I swear, I parked near the entrance.”

Y/N fought back a grin. He was tall, broad-shouldered, the kind of guy who looked like he could carry three grocery bags in each hand without breaking a sweat. Strong, athletic, surprisingly sweet. But apparently, completely incapable of remembering where he parked.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head. “A boy who’s jacked and kind, but can’t find his ass to save his life.”

Sunghoon shot her a playful glare. “That’s not true.”

“Oh, really? Then where’s the car, genius?”

A beat of silence. He glanced around helplessly.

“…I have no idea.”

Y/N burst out laughing. “We’re gonna be here all night.”

Sunghoon groaned, but even he was smiling now. “You could help instead of roasting me.”

“Oh, but this is way more fun.”

Still chuckling, she pulled out her phone, tapping her screen. “Lucky for you, I did think ahead.” She flashed her screen at him, showing the location pin she’d dropped when they arrived.

Sunghoon blinked, then exhaled in relief. “I take back everything. You’re actually a genius.”

Y/N smirked. “I know. Now come on, let’s go find your car before I start thinking you actually Ubered here and forgot.”

Laughing, he slung an arm around her shoulders as they finally walked in the right direction—together.

-

Sunoo - espresso

*'Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me espresso'*

Y/N could feel the weight of the text before she even opened it. Sunoo had always been the type to send messages that made her smile even when she didn’t want to, but this one was different. The text, simple yet intriguing:

“Can’t sleep. I guess you’re on my mind again.”

She smirked, her fingers hovering over her phone. She knew exactly what he was doing. Sunoo had this effortless way of making her feel like she was the only person in his thoughts, even when he was probably busy with a million other things.

She couldn’t help it. She typed back, her response teasing yet playful:

“That’s funny. I guess I’m your personal espresso now?”

It didn’t take long before he replied.

“More like the best shot of caffeine I could ever have.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped her. She should’ve been asleep too, but she couldn’t fight the way Sunoo always seemed to slip under her skin. No one else could make her feel like this, like she was the center of his universe, even in a simple text at 2 a.m.

She leaned back on her bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how he always seemed to find a way into her thoughts too.

“So, you can't sleep?” she sent back, letting her voice drop playfully. “Guess that’s my fault now, huh?”

It took him a few moments before his response popped up.

“Yeah, you’ve been running through my mind all night. I don’t know whether to blame you or just admit it’s pretty sweet.”

Y/N smiled at her phone, warmth spreading through her chest. She wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something about Sunoo's words that made her feel all kinds of special. The way he thought about her—like she was the shot of espresso in his day.

Maybe she couldn’t sleep either, but tonight, that didn’t seem to matter.

-

Jungwon -  don’t smile

*Don't smile because it happened, baby Cry because it's over Oh, you're supposed to think about me Every time you hold her*

Y/N hadn’t expected it to hurt this much.

She stood on the edge of the park, watching Jungwon laugh with someone else. It wasn’t just anyone—it was her. The girl he’d started seeing just weeks after they called it quits. The girl who wore his favorite color, who could make him smile the way Y/N used to.

She had always told herself she would be okay. That they were better off apart, that maybe time would heal everything. But watching them now, the way his eyes lit up when she spoke, made something inside her twist.

They didn’t see her, too wrapped up in their own world.

Y/N swallowed, forcing herself to turn away, but the words, those lyrics, rang in her head as she walked away:

“Don’t smile because it happened, baby. Cry because it’s over.”

She hated how right they felt. How she could still feel every moment with Jungwon—the late-night talks, the laughter, the way his hand would find hers in a crowd. And now, it felt like those memories were slowly being buried beneath the weight of her own sadness.

But what hurt even more was the thought of him holding her and forgetting about the way it used to be with them.

“You’re supposed to think about me every time you hold her,” she whispered to herself, voice barely audible in the cool evening air.

Jungwon had always been the one to remember the little things. The way she liked her coffee, the exact way she laughed when she was nervous. And now... he had someone else to remember all those details for.

Y/N took a shaky breath, wiping away the tear that threatened to fall. It was over. But the hurt? That would take longer to fade.

-

Ni-ki - bad reviews

*Been alone for so long, I've got somethin' to prove If I close an eye, it's almost like your red flags are blue So still I choose to be in love with you*

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, scrolling through her phone, her mind wandering. It had been so long since she let herself feel this way—this tangled mess of emotions she couldn’t make sense of.

Ni-ki had always been there, in his own way. Quiet, serious, but with moments of warmth that made her heart skip. But lately, it felt like there were more cracks in their relationship than ever before. Red flags she couldn’t ignore—late-night texts that didn’t feel like his usual self, the way he would pull back when she got too close.

It wasn’t like she didn’t see it. She did. She saw the warning signs, the places where it wasn’t all perfect, the way his words sometimes didn’t match his actions.

But then there were moments like tonight.

Ni-ki had shown up unannounced at her door, a rare smile on his face, and everything seemed right again. She hadn’t even realized how much she missed him until she saw him standing there, looking at her with those soft, dark eyes. And for a moment, all the doubts—every little red flag—seemed to fade into the background.

She closed her eyes and thought of him.

“If I close an eye, it’s almost like your red flags are blue,” she murmured to herself. It sounded silly, but it was true. Every time she convinced herself she shouldn’t care, that maybe she was wasting her time, he’d show up with one smile, one word, and it was enough to make her forget all the signs.

She loved him. And no matter how much her heart tried to warn her otherwise, she kept choosing him.

Y/N picked up her phone and typed a message.

“I choose you, even if it’s crazy.”

She hit send, her heart racing. Would he reply? Would he understand?

Seconds later, the text bubble appeared.

“I choose you too. Always.”

And for tonight, that was all that mattered.

-

© luvoooenha on tumblr 2024-2025. please don’t copy, repost, or translate my works! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :)

[fandommadnessthings]

(1990-2000) TV special

Episode 27 - "The Magic has been found! Is this farewell!?"

[shitpostingkats]

Love how unsubtle ffvii is with the imagery of soldiers and attack dogs. Every underplate resident calls them that. They're monstrous beasts who are set loose on problems before being called to heel. Shinra's #1 propaganda mascot is a a little cartoon bloodhound. Rufus keeps hunting dogs and uses them the same way he uses his employees. Zack is called a puppy until he undergoes change and lopes far from home and snarls to protect the people he cares about and suddenly he's no longer a dog but a wolf.

[kooffeecup]

FADING FOREVER

" Stay with me forever,'' he’d once begged. Now, forever was a hollow, endless thing.  

 genre : angst, romance. ( mention of terminal illness )

— fading forever

The first time Jungkook saw you, you were laughing. It was a sound that cut through the monotony of his 9-to-5 life a life of spreadsheets, lukewarm coffee, and subway rides under flickering fluorescent lights. You were holding a dripping ice cream cone, arguing playfully with the vendor over a mistaken order. He’d offered you his napkin, fingers brushing yours, and when you grinned up at him, he swore the sun had burst through Seoul’s perpetual gray.  

For two years, you painted his world in hues he didn’t know existed. Mornings tangled in sheets, your breath warm against his neck. Evenings spent on your cramped apartment floor, sharing takeout as you rewrote the lyrics to cheesy love songs, replacing every “baby” with “Jungkook-ah” just to make him blush. He’d trace the constellation of freckles on your shoulder and whisper, “Stay with me forever,” and you’d laugh, saying forever was too short for the two of you. But forever had a different plan.  

The headaches started in spring. You blamed stress, dehydration, the stale air of your office. But when you collapsed in the grocery store, your hand slipping from Jungkook’s as you reached for a box of strawberry milk, the MRI lit up like a grenade had gone off in your brain. Glioblastoma multiforme. Stage IV. The doctor’s voice was a distant hum as Jungkook’s knees hit the linoleum floor.  

You held his face that night, thumbs wiping tears he didn’t realize he’d shed. “It’s okay,” you lied. “We’ll fight it.”  

Chemo stole your laughter first. Then your hair, your appetite, the light in your eyes. Jungkook quit his job, selling his guitar and the vintage Levi’s jacket he’d loved to pay for treatments that did nothing but make you vomit. He learned to inject morphine into your IV, his hands steady even as his soul fractured.  

  One sleepless 3 a.m., you rasped, “I’m sorry,” and he shattered. “Don’t you *dare* apologize,” he choked, forehead pressed to your bony knuckles. “You’re my everything. You’re—”  

“Your forever,” you finished, smiling weakly. “But Jungkook-ah… forever’s running out.”  

The hospice bed swallowed you whole. Machines beeped a cruel countdown as Jungkook clung to your hand, memorizing the feel of your pulse—thready, irregular, *fading*. You struggled to speak, and he leaned close, your breath a ghost against his ear.  

“Don’t… let go,” you pleaded.  “Never,” he wept. “I’ll never let go.”  

But you were already slipping. Your last words were a sigh, a half-formed “I love—” before the monitors flatlined.  

He visits your grave every Sunday. Today, he brings a strawberry milk carton and a napkin, the ink blurred from rain or tears. The engraving reads, “YN – Forever Wasn’t Long Enough.” 

As he turns to leave, a laugh rings out—a girl at a nearby vendor’s stall, arguing over a mistaken order. For a heartbeat, he sees you. But the moment passes, and he walks home alone, the echo of your voice haunting every step.  

“Stay with me forever,” he’d once begged.  Now, forever was a hollow, endless thing.  

[norriszn]

max's twitch stream: qatar sprint quali - nov '24

quick context: max sometimes plays background videos for chat to watch with him while he eats. during this particular stream max mentioned that he hadn't eaten for hours (just a tiny lunch) after doing a big run but dw cuz pietra saved him with some food which you can see in his camera view.

max: hello? ricky? *lando guessing if oscar is telling the truth or a lie - 1st box of lies* *chat making sure max knows his camera is blocking lando* max: 'you're in front of bob' for fuck sake. alright. i'll move. *oscar guessing if lando is telling the truth or a lie - 2nd box of lies* max: what the fuck is that? they're pickled onions or something? *oscar still guessing if lando is telling the truth or a lie - 2nd box of lies* max: i don't think he (lando) knows they're pickled onions. *production guy handing oscar the 3rd box of lies* max: chat, this is so fucking good, man. i'm not even watching the video, really, fuck. (😭😭) *lando guessing if oscar is telling the truth or a lie - 3rd box of lies* max: i don't know what- do they have to guess if they're lying or not? what? *oscar guessing if lando is telling the truth or a lie - 4th box of lies* max: peppa pig's (lunchbox). (the nooticer) *chat kinda roasting max for the way he’s eating* max: 'max really was starving' i know… *landoscar landoscaring* max: i don't get it. is he even lying? *oscar still guessing if lando is telling the truth or a lie - 4th box of lies* max: *pointing at the screen* mmm, (it's) actually peppa pig's (lunchbox). (the nooticer😭😭 ) *oscar confirming that, yes, it's actually his mom in the locket necklace - 4th box of lies* max: what? *box of lies 5 minutes video ending* max: is that it? IS THAT IT?!

[icycoldninja]

Angsty Sephiroth headcannons

-Severe insomniac; needs to take 3 sleeping pills a night just to nod off, and even then, he's a light sleeper, so the slightest sounds can wake him.

-Doesn't drink often, but when he does, he gets very drunk and emotional.

-Cries a lot in private, especially when reminiscing his past or flipping through his old photo album with all his pictures of his dead friends.

-He still celebrates Genesis and Angeal's birthdays, all by himself. He gets a cake and lights candles, and sings happy birthday to the wall. Then he eats the cake all alone and drinks beer until he passes out.

-Has frequent, intense night terrors that keep him up when his insomnia doesn't. More often than not, the two forces work together to torment him till morning.

-Uses a lot of makeup to hide his dark, puffy eyebags, and even then they're still sort of visible if you look closely.

-Feels tired and unmotivated 80% of the day; it takes almost all of his mental strength just to get out of bed.

-Braids his hair before bed because it gives him something to focus on so he doesn't have to listen to all his own disturbing thoughts.

-Insecure about himself, and everything about himself, from his personality to his looks.

-Severe abandonment issues--he fears that you will leave him because of all his mental baggage, but is too afraid to talk to you about it.

-Sometimes holds you too tight because he fears you'll dissappear and leave him all alone.

-If you ever get a nightmare, he will squeeze you to the point of almost breaking your ribs. He does this because he remembers when he was young and scared, that was all he ever wanted.

-Is very depressed, tries not to show it, but you can see it anyway. This normally happens after a long day or when he has too much to drink. He needs a hug and maybe a kiss or two. Give it to him.

[0bticeo]

writing's haaaard anyway have a sneak peek

coming your way sunday

[maudie-duan]

A/N: Okay! So it's here! The final part! This was already fun to write, but you guys made it even more fun, and I appreciate you dearly!

Tag List: Always Open

Changes Masterlist<-

Word Count: 9.8k

Warnings: 18+, Language, Smut, Eating Disorder, Talk of Pregnancy, Mentions of Abortion, Teen Angst, Emotions. (If I miss anything, let me know.)

Two and a half hours was a long time to sit in silence, and that’s exactly what we did.

I don’t know why I chose that moment, but everything about that night was so overwhelming. What were we doing here when everything outside this little world we created was up in flames? Each flame was a burst of reality lapping at my feet until I tried to find a way to extinguish it. It was like Harry didn’t want to see it like he was choosing not to.

He told me he loved me, destroying my world in two seconds. They were words I would have longed to hear, words I’ve only dreamed of him saying, and I felt the same. 

In my heart, I knew I truly did love the guy he was in those moments when we didn’t have to think; we could just be, but here I was carrying around this burden that kept stealing these tiny moments from under my feet—a chastising reminder that the world as I knew it was about to end and there was nothing Harry could do to change that.

I couldn’t just be in the moment without thinking about this thing, this baby, or whatever it was; I didn’t even know if it had a heartbeat, and to be honest, I didn’t want to know. 

I didn’t want to know anything about what this could turn into. I knew exactly where this would lead, and what could I do with a baby? What would Harry and I do with a baby? Raise it, I know, but I didn’t want to raise a baby when I hadn’t even gotten a chance to be me, figure out the person outside of the life I’ve always known. 

I’ve always had a plan that didn’t include a baby or Harry. I had let the idea of Harry go a long time ago, and nowhere did it include me falling in love right before I could finally get away, break free of this person

Me.

Become someone who didn’t have to fit into the mold that was created for them—I needed to be free. 

I know now that I didn’t go about it the right way.

Even though I felt like my world was crumbling around me. I still felt his words settling deep into my bones, and when we got to the car, all smiles, his hand in mine, I wanted to stay in that feeling. I wanted one last moment before I had to yank the rug out from underneath us.

So, I did what I knew we were both good at. Looking back, I know it was wrong, but I wasn’t ready to let Harry go. 

I knew I would have to let him go tomorrow. When our world finally split back into two, and we couldn’t be this, what we were when we were together, stay in the comfort of knowing he felt the same way because it wasn’t real.

I felt him humming through my body as we pushed our way through the crowd, stepping out into the cold. I watched the fog of his breath rise into the night sky like a secret only I knew. When we locked eyes, he smiled, his mouth tilting slightly, his dimple dipping. He licked his lips, and I knew—I felt it buzzing deep in my belly.

The want, the need.

When we got to the car, the windows were fogged over, the drop in the night temperature on our side, and when he opened my car door, I slid in, gazing up in time to catch the crooked smile playing at his lips as people passed behind him, on their way to their cars.

I followed his shadow through the windshield, clutching at my jacket to warm up, my breath coming out in puffs of clouds dissipating every time I took another. My heart was racing, and when the door handle clicked open, I turned in my seat to face him, surveying him as he slid into the driver’s seat, Harry looking over as soon as he was in. 

Harry shifted his seat back, not wasting any time, and then leaned forward, turning on the car—the cold air blasting through the vent hit my skin like ice as I shimmed out of my jacket. Harry did the same, a knowing smile playing on our lips. I shoved my boots off, lifted my hips off the seat to reach under my dress, and slid my panties off.

“God—that’s so fucking hot—” He breathes, leaning in to kiss me, then I pull away, turning the dial of the radio up as ‘Talk Show Host’ by Radiohead blares through the speakers. I swear it couldn’t have been any more perfect, the song feeding into our hunger, and then the sound of Harry’s belt buckles fills the car, metal scraping together, and I’m fucking salivating, peering over at him, his face so serious.

When his jeans are past his hips, his hard dick springs up, a pleasant surprise every time. I’m on my knees in a matter of seconds, reaching over to wrap a cold hand around his shaft, and he sucks a breath through his teeth, wincing at the chill, but as soon as I wrap my warm mouth around the head of his penis, he gasps, slowly relaxing into the pleasure.

“Fuck—baby, that’s so good—” he praises, spurring me on, and I want to do this. I want to make him feel good; this part I know I’m good at, a people pleaser, a pleasure giver, whatever you want, I’ll do it because that’s who I’ve been this whole time.

Then he says, “Baby—” and I peek up at him, taking in his face as he bites down on his lower lip, his head falling back against the headrest—and it’s so easy to take, and when Harry tells me he wants me, now, he wants me on top; He needs me now. 

I climb into his lap, wanting to give myself freely—whatever he wants, it’s his—he can have every single piece of me if that means I get to have him just like this, in this moment, carrying this memory for a lifetime, hoping deep in my bones that I’ll never forget.

I’m in his lap then, stretching past him to tilt the seat back further, Harry pushing his weight into the seat until it jostles us backward, my hand flying to the headrest as my heart beats faster with the sudden shift, and we both laugh, Harry, reaching for my face to kiss me.

The kiss is sloppy—wet mouths driving together as one of Harry’s hands moves away, then he lifts my dress, grabs my hips, and yanks me forward, and I feel his hard dick hit my inner thigh. He releases my face then, hurriedly guiding himself into me, the head of his cock opening me up, teasing my entrance, and I bear down onto him, pushing hard with my hips, fast, stealing his breath in one quick motion, his thick dick stretching me to my limits.

And then my only thought is, god, this couldn’t get any better; could it get better than this? 

This feeling is all-encompassing; it’s everything all at once, stealing me, taking me away, and all I want is to feel good—This feels good, this feels amazing, and his name keeps falling from my mouth, over and over. Then he says, “Marlowe—” a pained look in his eyes like he’s about to ruin it all, and I pick up the pace, needing this one thing, and he’s trying to take it away.

He seizes my hips then, pushing and pulling me back and forth, deepening the friction, and I yell out his name, overtaken by the sensation, trying to find purchase of my surroundings as I fall back into the steering wheel; a quick sound of the horn, alarming us to a momentary halt. Then Harry laughs, panic snatching me, and I clutch at my chest, trying to catch my breath as Harry thrusts his hips upward, bobbing me upward, nudging us back into motion.

My hand flies to the cold window, balancing myself, not wanting a repeat of the horn, “Love this—” Harry groans softly, a knot forming in my throat, and I close my eyes then, trying to stay in the moment. My back arches over the steering wheel, grasping at the windshield as my feet come up to the tops of his thighs, flat, finding stability, as I bounce my hips up and down, straining to find that same rhythm as before.

Harry’s hands seize my hips again, gliding up to my waist, and I press a palm into the dash, holding myself up as I reach my dress, giving him a better view, my eyes roaming his face while he takes me in, pulling me down harder, deeper, “Just like—that—” I force between moans, the smile growing on his face, and I wish this could be enough, but this could never be enough and we both know that. 

And he’s pulling, and I’m pushing, and we’re both just pulling and pushing, taking and giving, and giving away until there’s nothing left because what will be left of us after this? When reality hits, when this is no longer our safe space.

“Baby—” He cries out.

“I’m getting close…” He breathes, and I nod, smiling down at him because he knows I love it when he says those words, that I love the idea of making him feel good, how the idea of us is just enough to push me over the edge.

All it takes is one last thrust, and I’m losing myself. Holding my breath as I succumb to the pressure, the tension knotting in my lower belly, and fall forward and wrap my arms around Harry’s neck, my whole body tensing, uncoiling as he says, “God—I love you—” He breathes, tightening his hold on me, “I love you so much, fuck—” And I feel him release inside me, burying his face into the crook of my neck.

It’s pain and pleasure, but where does one end and the other begins?

 I’m sinking into it, gasping for air, as Harry pants, hot puffs of air, and suddenly it’s so hot, the heat blazing through the vents—it’s too much—every touch and sound is becoming too much, nausea building in the pit of my stomach, pulling at my throat, and I’m sick; sick with the thought of all of it, and Harry is talking, and I can’t hear a thing past the pounding in my eardrums. 

And I have to force myself off of Harry, his face becoming a blur as I move away, fumbling over the gearshift, climbing into the passenger seat, my head spinning, and I can’t hear what he’s saying.

What is he saying?

That nauseous feeling is rising, dizzying, and I reach for the door handle, yanking it open as my head spills out into the cold air of the night, welcoming, as I heave up everything in my stomach, retching until there’s nothing left and I’m gasping for air; eyes watering, or maybe I’m crying, I can’t tell. Then Harry is pulling me back into the car, tugging the door closed from behind me, then falls back into his seat, giving me space.

And then I ruin it all by saying, “I’m getting an Abortion…” I confess, sucking in a deep breath, my chest rising and falling with the effort it takes to draw in a single breath, and I pull at the hem of my dress, feeling exposed, disgusted by my own decision, but I don’t have any other choice because there’s never going to be a right time to tell him.

I can’t even look at Harry; I can’t see the disappointment. I think he wanted something different, something that I couldn’t give. When I hear him move and shift around in his seat, I sneak a glance, enough to see that he’s angry, “Harry?”

“Don’t—” He starts, his voice breaking, and he clears his throat, “I don’t want to talk right now—”

“But—” I push.

“Seriously—!” he yells, shutting me down. Then he starts the car, cracks the windows, and switches the air to Defrost while I buckle my seat and lean down to shove my shoes back on.

The whole ride was me biting back sobs, on and off, while Harry sat there like a statue made of stone, impenetrable, icing me out in a way I didn’t think was possible. 

Confused, I found myself apologizing repeatedly, annoying myself and making him even angrier. 

His silence weighed heavy until I felt like I no longer existed, a mere ghost of myself. Every word I could have said vanished, leaving a hollow of what we could have been because there was no coming back from this, and I felt it as soon as Harry jerked to a stop in the driveway. He cut the engine and yanked the house key from my hand. Storming off toward the house, and I sat there until he was through the door, unsure of what to do. 

In his madness, Harry left the front door wide open. I could hear him stomping around upstairs, so I ran to the stairs, taking them two at a time, knowing exactly what he was doing. I couldn’t let him leave this house, not yet.

“Are we not going to talk about this?” I ask, bursting through the doorway.

“What is there to talk about? You’ve already made up your mind,” He spits, shoving clothes into his bag.

And his line silences me, “You didn’t bother talking to me about it before, so why does it matter now?” He adds, rushing around.

“Can you just stop for a second so we can talk?” I plead.

“I don’t want to talk, Marlowe, because I know whatever I say is not going to change your mind…so what’s the point?” He yells.

“So you wanted to keep it? Is that what this is?” I question, attempting to keep my voice calm.

“It doesn’t matter—Marlowe, let’s just drop it—”

“This does matter—this matters?” I push.

“What matters?” He laughs, a smug smile stealing his features.

“Us—” I force, second-guessing my words because his pointed stare makes me feel small, crushing me into tiny pieces.

“Really—?” Harry slams his bag to the ground, making me jump. “Do we matter?” He asks, a dry laugh slipping out with his harsh words. 

“If we mattered, then why didn’t you include me in your decision?” 

“I did! I told you I was pregnant, didn’t I?” I speak up.

“And if I hadn’t asked that day, would you have even said anything?” He pushes his anger back in full swing.

I shrug, “I don’t know—”

Then he shakes his head, pissed, “See—” he says, brows jutting up like I just proved his point.

“Harry, I was never going to keep it…” I scream at a breaking point.

“You mean, the baby—our baby?” he corrects me, breaking my heart all over again.

“Is it even a baby?” I question, wondering if he’s really thought this part through.

“It’s a baby to me—!” he yells at the top of his lungs, and this sets me off; we could have talked about this; at any point, he could have spoken up.

“So what was your end game here? Were we just going to have this “baby” and live happily ever after?” I ask.

“God—Marlowe…” he breathes, shaking his head, “Can’t you see all the work I’ve been trying to put in…trying to show you that we could do this? That I was on board.” 

“You mean the way we’ve been closing ourselves off from the world?” I question.

“Is that what we’ve been doing?” he shouts, throwing his arms up in the air—and was this what he was doing this whole time? Were all the baby facts him showing me he was on board? Was I supposed to take that as a green light, like yeah, let’s have this baby?

“Are you joking right now?” I spit.

“In what way do you think I’m joking?” He asks, ripping a hand through his hair.

“Because we can’t just pretend, Harry…We can’t just play house and act like this isn’t going to fuck up everything we’ve planned outside of this one thing—”

My words land hard, and I watch as he takes a step back, his jaw clenching, “ You mean what you’ve planned for your life…your life, Marlowe—”

“But what about you, Harry? Why are you so quick to throw your life away? It doesn’t make any sense…” I ask, frustration aching in my bones—and I’m drowning in it.

I thought the question would stump him and help him see everything more clearly, but then he says, “Is it really throwing my life away if it’s for you? Isn’t that what you want? I thought you wanted me.” Then his face breaks, the stone facade coming down with it.

“Harry…why does it have to be one or the other?”

“Because I can’t live with the thought of you going through with it…” he forces.

And I shake my head, my shoulders slumping, “Harry, this is real…this baby—if that’s what you want to call it…is a real thing, and what we’re doing right now…Harry, we’re just kids—I still feel like a kid—I don’t know what to do with a baby—” I tell him, moving closer to him, my voice lowering. 

“Can’t we just try?” Harry begs, tears streaking his cheeks. “I know we can do this—I promise I’ll be perfect…” 

He grabs my face in his hands, stroking away the tears that are spilling, blurring my vision. “Marlowe, I swear to you…I know that we can do this…” he pleads. 

For a second, I believe him; in fact, I know he would be great, but I don’t think I would because I’m mad just thinking about the fact that he’s pushing this so hard, and what? Would I hate him later, when it all feels too hard, and I’m trapped like I’ve been trapped here my whole life, and the only opportunity to leave is just a few months away, that’s all, and for once, I just want to fucking choose me.

“Harry…” I breathe as he presses his lips to my forehead, his hand moving to the back of my neck, deepening the kiss.

“Yes…” He whispers, and I grab hold of his shirt, clutching at the fabric, my throat tightening with the words I’m about to say.

“I don’t want to have this baby…” And I grasp his shirt harder, swallowing the burn each word left behind, waiting for him to speak, but he doesn’t say a thing. He just continues to press into the kiss, forcing his lips into my skin, his grip tensing around my neck as he shoves my head into his mouth so hard that it starts to hurt. 

He swallows then, biting back a small whimper that dies in his throat, and pulls away with such force that it knocks me back a few steps, anger riddling his face, etched so deep that it scares me, pinning me in place with his stare, but I can’t let go, and I’m stretching his shirt as he tries to move away, and then he says:

“I don’t have anything else to say to you—” with such finality that it stills my blood, a cold sweat glazing over my palms, my grip weakening. He yanks his shirt from my hands, then snatches his bag from the ground and pushes past me, but I don’t chase him, and when I hear the sound of the door slamming, I just stand there, lost in the aftermath of what just happened. Knowing that no matter what I say to him right now, it won’t change a thing

I didn’t sleep that night. I moved around the house, resetting anything that looked out of place, washing the bedding, showering, and keeping myself busy. At one point, I turned my phone off so that I would have to consciously make the decision to call or text him.

Add a barrier in a moment of weakness. 

Why was it so easy to walk away? Did it have to be one or the other? Could we have walked away from this as friends? Or was it always going to end this way, two halves of a heart going their separate ways? 

Once I got home the next day, I crawled into bed, exhausted, already feeling like days had passed since I saw him last, since I heard his voice. 

He never took his hoodie, and I’ll never know if he did it on purpose or if he forgot it in the fury of leaving because he also left his toothbrush and his cologne that he had left on the bathroom sink.

I stayed in bed for days, knowing I had a whole week before I had to go back to school. My mom would come in throughout the day with trays of food and snacks, but they just sat there until she came back, the thought of food making my stomach churn. Then I would find myself hunched over the toilet, sometimes my mom silently holding my hair back and tucking me back into bed with a cold bottle of Pedialyte, that becoming the only thing I could keep down during my sporadic windows of consciousness. 

Every once in a while, I would stare at the label reading “Kids Approved Taste” and wonder if my mom still thought I was a kid, and then I would start to cry, wanting to stay her kid forever, not ready for the changes, knowing what needed to be done. Every new day was a constant reminder that something was growing in me, sucking the life from me, ruining everything in its wake.

It became this vicious cycle, my mom not giving up and me not giving in, and on the last day of my suspension, she had enough of my bullshit; she called my dad in.

“Marlowe—” He yells from down the hall, after hearing his limit of me and my mom going back and forth, “Listen to me right now—we don’t know what’s going on with you—” He booms as he pushes through the cracked door.

“I’m working on the biggest case of the year right now. Whatever the hell is going on right now needs to stop this instant—”

“Greg—” My mom attempts.

But my dad is cutting her off, “You have what? Two months left, and you’re trying to pull this shit? Over what, Marlowe? A breakup?” 

I swallow hard and glance from him to my mom, trying to bite back the sob bubbling up in my chest, and he must see this, “Marlowe—” He says, ripping his glasses off, and he presses his thumb and index finger to the bridge of his nose, then looks at my mom, who’s signaling for him to calm down.

“Please—Greg—” She tells him with a firm edge to her tone, and he nods, taking a deep breath.

“All I’m saying…is that you’ve put in all this work, and now I’d hate to see it all go down the drain over a guy who will mean nothing as soon as you go away to college…and honestly, Honey, none of us liked Trent to begin with…”

My mom cleared her throat as his last line landed. I wasn’t even thinking of Trent this whole time, which only made Harry’s absence more apparent than ever—driving home the fact that no one will ever know my suffering because no one even knows that we ever existed.

 The realization felt like a gut punch, forcing the air from my lungs, and I’m sobbing all over again, mourning a boy that was never mine to begin with—a gut-wrenching longing that only he could stir in me, yet the feeling is familiar, and even though my nieve heart had once ached for him long ago, I could never imagine it feeling like this—Earth-shattering, and is this what love is? I would crawl on my hands and knees for him, do anything he wanted, but I knew what he would want, and it’s the one thing I can’t give.

My pride wouldn’t let me go to school; looking like hell swarmed over me. I wanted to look amazing. I needed to walk into that school like nothing had phased me, unbothered by Trent, not let Harry catch me down, become the same sorry case I’ve been since—I don’t know before we existed.

Monday was fine; nobody acted or treated me any differently. Harry was the only one I couldn’t face, but he didn’t show up until Wednesday. Ignoring me, not even glancing my way when he passed me in the hallway—and me being pathetic—I couldn’t look away, feeling that magnetic pull, like a kick to the shin, an acute pain, straight to the bone, writhing in the misery of it until it went away, but it lingered, steadily looming over my head at the very mention of his name. 

For the first time, I didn’t have any friends or people that I wanted to associate with. Skylar had proven how shitty of a friend she was when I saw her cuddled up to Trent in the lunch room, but I didn’t have the energy to care; I just found an empty table and sat alone, shoving my headphones into my ears, to drown out the noise.

On Thursday, I found a way to leave Biology early, so I didn’t have to pass by Harry. It made the rest of the day more manageable, and I left thinking, maybe I could do this, until Friday rolled around, and that’s when the rumors started circulating.

At lunch, I sat at my table alone, trying to ignore the constant eyes on me. I had no clue why everyone was staring, suddenly interested in what I was doing, so I tried to brush it off and opened my Math book to catch up on one of the assignments that had fallen by the wayside. That’s when Skylar had the nerve to march over and open her dumb fucking mouth:

“Hey—” she says, slamming her hands down on my table. I look up at her, raising a brow, wondering what the hell she wants, and pull one of my earbuds out.

“What—” I spit, shaking my head.

She laughs, sending me a bitchy smile, like what she’s about to say just tickles her, “I just wanted to see how you were doing after that Abortion…” She asks, with a snide tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell her, trying to play dumb.

She crosses her arms then, “Are you sure? Because rumor has it that you definitely did—” Then she leans down, lowering her voice, “And I heard it wasn’t even Trents.” 

“Wow…that’s cool…” I forced, keeping my reaction neutral even though my heart was racing because I could brush off the first part, but how would she know about the second part?

“I was shocked…I didn’t think you had it in you to cheat on Trent…even he was shocked—” She expresses, placing a hand over her heart.

I interrupt her then, “Why are you wasting your time with this, Skylar? You already have Trent. Why are you acting like I didn’t know you were fucking my boyfriend, and does it look like I care?” 

Her face drops, then, “Exactly, dude, I don’t fucking care. Now, please leave me alone and go torture one of the many minions you have surrounding yourself over there, and fuck off…”

“You were always such a bitch anyway, Marlowe,” She huffs

I shrug, sending her my sweetest smile, “Well—Skylar—It takes one to know one…” Then she storms off as I catch Trent staring over at my table. He purses his lips together and shakes his head with disgust, and I sink into my chair and turn my music up, acting as if nothing had just happened, even though I was shaken to my core.

I thought it would blow over during the weekend. However, the rumors were still spreading like wildfire, burning through friend group after friend group until the condoms started appearing on my table at lunch, placed in my seat before class, becoming a run-on joke that no one wanted to drop. 

No one truly knew if the rumor was true; the only one who knew my plan was Harry. Would he do that to me? Throw me under the bus like he had nothing to do with a single aspect of this. Could I not trust him? Was he not trustworthy?

 Would he hurt me even more because he knew he could?

By Wednesday, I had enough of the bullshit. I needed to talk to him, so I showed up at his house after school, and when I knocked on the door, his mom let me in.

“Harry—!” She called up the stairs, “I’m Anne…are you a friend of Harry’s? He’s never had a girl over—”

“Marlowe?” He interjects halfway down the stairs, his eyes flicking from me to his mom, who had just reached her hand out to shake mine.

“Marlowe?” She repeats, “Well, that’s a lovely name, Dear,” the compliment rolling off her tongue with a thick accent. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks, cutting through the niceties with a sharp edge to his tone as Anne’s eyes widen.

“Harry—” She warns.

“I’m sorry mom…” He tells her, stepping down the last few steps.

She crosses her arms with a stern look, “Now, don’t apologize to me. Apologize to Marlowe… you’re the one with that nasty tone.”

“I’m sorry—Marlowe—” He forces through gritted teeth.

Her eyes swept to me, and then she said, “I was just putting dinner on. Will you be staying for dinner, Dear?”

“No—” Harry jumps in, “No—she was just dropping something off, right Marlowe,” And forced a smile to his face.

“Yeah—That’s it…” I lie, then he pushes past me, and I smile over at Anne like everything is fine, thinking that Harry got his sweet temperament from her, but this side of him feels venomous, every word biting to kill.

I follow him, closing the door behind me, “I don’t have much time. I have a lot of homework to make up—” He announces, pointedly like he’s tossing blame toward me. 

“Okay…should we talk in my car?” I ask, and he doesn’t respond. He just walks in that direction, pulling at the handle, waiting for me to unlock it, and I nervously fidget with the button, accidentally locking it twice, then finally managing to unlock it when I’m at the driver’s side, and we both climb in.

“What’s up,” He says as soon as we’re in. He’s gazing out the windshield, clenching his jaw.

His stance is making me nervous, wanting to call this off already, second-guessing why I’m even doing this in the first place. “Well…I wanted to talk to you about the rumors going around school?” I tell him 

“What about them?” He questions.

“Well—I don’t know—they’re like pretty specific.” I try to explain without any hint of blame.

His eyes flick to me then, “Yeah—I know…” And this is already like pulling teeth, his vague sentences starting to rile me up.

“I’m just wondering if you maybe…like said something by accident…? or maybe you thought you could trust someone, and maybe it got out?” I coax, keeping my voice calm, trying to placate his mood.

“I don’t know, Marlowe…” is all he says, looking away again.

It’s not a “no,” and I’m torn on how to continue. So, I turn and look out my window, my stomach twisting in knots, “Look—Harry starts.

“Someone was talking about you being pregnant, whether you would be showing when you got back, and I made some dumb comment like..I don’t know—like you probably got an abortion while you were gone…”

And he shakes his head, “I really didn’t think anything of it. I was mad at the time, and then it just got blown out of proportion…”

I’m staring at him, but something about his face no longer looks the same, like he’s changed, this angry side of him, ruining his best features, becoming the douchebag I pictured in the past; then he says, “It’s not that big a deal…”

I literally laugh out loud, making him jump, a crazed wonderment washing over me, “You can’t be fucking serious—” I snap.

“What? It will blow over. Just give it another week…” he tells me.

I shake my head, “You know what—I don’t even know who you are anymore…”

“Oh, come on—” he quips.

“No, I’m serious…in what world is it cool to throw me under the bus like that…like even if you’re mad…”

“Please, don’t tell me you’re coming over to lecture me about right from wrong…” he says, rolling his eyes, his head falling against the headrest—over the conversation already.

And then I slam my hand against the steering wheel hard, the pain reverberating through my wrist, and he sits up, “This is exactly why I’m not doing this. You’re acting like spreading rumors isn’t a big fucking deal…Well—I’m sure it’s not when no one knows this is you’re fucking “baby.” I yell.

“You need to grow up and stop acting like a fucking asshole—it’s not a good look for you—” I add.

He laughs, “I need to grow up—? Who tells someone they’re falling in love but then turns around and can’t even have a simple conversation with them?”

“Harry, we could have had as many conversations as you wanted…you could have brought it up too, at any point. Why are you acting like none of this was a two-way street? I shout, unable to keep my cool because he’s acting like a child, and it’s pissing me off. 

Harry looks me dead in the eyes, then “And would it have changed your answer?” And then I swallow my silence enough.

“Exactly—” He hisses, then yanks the door open and gets out of the car, slamming it so hard that I thought the glass would shatter.

The condoms never stopped coming. I thought the talk of prom would shift everyone’s attention, but it only seemed to add to the problem, feeding supply to the endless jokes that continued to come. I swore I would never have sex again if it meant this would go away—If it meant that everyone would shut the fuck up already. 

Two weeks had passed since then, and I still wasn’t in the clear. All I had to do was make it to next Monday, the day I was scheduled for my procedure—to rid myself of this whole situation and never look back. 

On Thursday, instead of our usual morning classes, we had our Senior Recognition Ceremony. The final trophies and awards would be handed out during the assembly, and the colleges of those who had already been accepted would be announced.

I kept looking at the clock, wishing it would move faster so I didn’t have to sit crammed next to Milyy Jenkins, her elbow grazing my arm every time she moved, listening to her voice, wondering if that’s how she sounded under Harry, a deep pang of jealousy in my gut because I had already heard Harry was taking her to prom.

It’s crazy how he’s just continued with his life, not suffering a single consequence and taking Miley to prom. As if I wouldn’t hear about it, as if it wouldn’t tear me to shreds. It’s not like I wanted him to take me—I can’t even go as part of my suspension—but isn’t it ironic since I know they’ve already fucked? 

Is he going to have sex with her? Was everything he said a lie? I don’t even know what to believe anymore. Was this his last attempt to drive the hurt further? Because I’m already suffocating with it, what’s left? 

There were several surprises during that assembly: One, I didn’t realize how well-rounded Harry was academically; he was up on the stage more than anyone. Not to mention that he had already been accepted into five different impressive colleges, each new fact chipping away at my soul, realizing how much he was willing to sacrifice.

The thought made my head spin, but when the Principal asked which school he thought he would attend. His voice rasped into the microphone, ripping through my body, and said, “I plan on moving back to England to attend the same Uni as my sister.”

All the girls around me gasped, but I knew this was a new decision because now he was going to run away, and maybe he was still sacrificing a lot since I’m sure this had everything to do with my choice; then his eyes swept to mine, and I tried not to flinch. 

“Alright, Mr. Styles, Well, we are certainly proud of all your hard work here. I think we can all see that you have great things in store for you, wherever the future may take you…” Harry’s eyes moved from mine back to the Principal, flashing a charming smile.

“Why don’t you go line up with others over there, son,” The Principal says, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder, then points to the rest of the Seniors lined up behind him. 

My eyes follow Harry as he strolls toward the row of students waiting for the assembly to end. “And now I want to recognize these last two students. Who were both accepted to another prestigious school. This is kind of a rare case for us here, so we just wanted to give them a little shout out, let them know how proud we are…”

“Marlowe Asher and Miley Jenkins—” He announces, and my heart drops, my palms going sweaty, and I grip the armrest as the girl next to me nudges me, urging me to head to the stage. 

I stand then, making my way down the row because, of course, I would be stuck in the middle; it can never be easy. Then someone gropes my butt, but they’re too quick, and I don’t catch who out of the three guys it could have been. All three of them are smiling, and honestly, I just want to make it to the stage without drawing any more attention to myself, so I brush it off and continue past the last two people in the row.

Miley was on stage from a previous award, and the Principal was already asking her what her plans were and what she would study. When I finally made it next to Miley, she sent me a genuine smile, an excited look on her face, so I smiled back. Then she turns back to the Principal and finishes with:

“I think it will be awesome to have someone I know from my hometown there. College seems pretty scary…” Then some guy in the audience yells my name, “Yeah—Marlowe!” followed by a catcall somewhere else in the crowd, and she glances over at me, face dropping slightly.

I run a hand through my hair, pulling down the hem of my shirt, feeling hollow and gross, wondering why I wore such tight jeans, “That’s enough, guys,” the principal scolds, then Miley passes the microphone, the thud of it hitting my shaky hand sounds around the auditorium, and she gives me a slight nod of support.

“Marlowe Asher…” the Principal starts, “You Asher sisters have left quite a legacy for this school—” 

“Yeah, she did—” a dude shouts, followed by a small roar of laughter, and I shift on my feet, my eyes darting to the ground.

The Principal clears his throat, ignoring the comment, “Miley just shared her plans for next year with us. What will your plans be?”

Then a girl yells, “Probably get knocked up!” and my eyes flick to the crowd as the room erupts into laughter, and I can’t see anyone’s faces because the light beaming down on the stage are too fucking bright, and I’m locking my knees so hard that I think I might pass out. 

This throws everyone else off on stage. Teachers peer around at each other, dumbfounded, as the Principal tries to calm the audience. Miley wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling us back toward the line of Seniors on stage; my eyes cast downward, afraid to look anyone in the eye.

Miley spots the microphone still in my hand, takes it, and returns it to the Principal. When she doesn’t return to her original spot in line, she pushes me closer to Harry, our arms grazing, and I cup a hand over my arm, drawing it close to my body. 

Everything about his presence consumed me. The second we touched, his scent drifted toward me, a tingle up my arm. His scent filled my senses with everything familiar about him—and he was standing there next to me, so still, that stone statue back, so close but a million miles away. 

Did he care at all? 

Did he feel bad? 

When I tried to sneak a glance, the slightest turn of my head revealed his face was flat and rigid; jaw clenched as he clasped his hands behind his back. Was he angry? Was he still mad at me? And when I turn my head to really take him in, he shifts on his feet, then moves away, and crosses in front of me without a look, and stands on the other side of Miley, leans in, and whispers something into her ear, and her laugh slices me open the second it falls from her perfect mouth. 

Rejection for anyone was a hard truth to face, but no one did it like Harry. 

No one has ever scratched the surface long enough to cut this deep, make me feel like a hollowed-out version of myself, starving for the slightest morsel of a crumb, just a fucking speck of recognition; how could it not hurt him? —Him hurting me. Did he not feel anything? Did this not matter?

Because I believed him when he said, “I love you,” that it wasn’t just a passing phrase. I thought at most that we were friends, that there would be a friendship. He wanted love, a lover—isn’t that what lovers do? They love one another until they’re deep in their bones, so deep that they leave their mark for the world to see.

Maybe the world will never know the mark that Harry left on my life, but I’ll know the feeling for a lifetime. 

What was love for him? Love for me was me making the best decision for us both, and maybe he hates me now, but will he hate me forever? Will there ever be a time when he realizes it was for the best? Will he be able to look back and see the good and not hate me for the worst because he felt bigger than any of the bad? We felt bigger; maybe we couldn’t last forever, but the ending should have mattered. We knew there was an ending; it mattered how it ended because I couldn’t bear the thought of this ending, of never talking to him again. 

On Friday, as Harry was about to pass me in the hall, I stepped in front of him, trying to make one last desperate attempt to smooth things over, “Can we talk?” I murmured as people passed around us, no one really paying attention except for a few random stares.

“Have you changed your mind?” he asks, his tone bitter.

“Harry…Please…” I silently pleaded, knowing he was about to walk away.

Then he tries to push past me, “I have nothing to say, Marlowe—” He spits as my hand presses flat against his chest, trying to hold him in place. 

“Harry—” I beg, his gaze harsh as he stares down at me.

“Hey, Styles—” A girl shouts, and I turn to spot Miley and Andy about to pass. Their stares flick to my hands on Harry’s chest, catching us in the middle of my distress, and I drop my hands just as Miley locks eyes with me, and I look away as they pass, feeling embarrassed by what this might look like.

“I’ve gotta go…I can’t be late for class,” Harry’s voice is gravel over my skin, pushing past me; my eyes follow, and I will myself not to scream his name because that’s all I want to do is fucking scream because I am so alone, he left me alone in this, and now I have no one as I stand in the middle of this hallway, trying not to cry because his constant refusal is etching away at what little I have left.

And if it couldn’t get any worse, as soon as I walked into the lunchroom, I was greeted by Trent, who was on his way out the doors, bumping into me and nearly knocking me over. 

When he puts a hand on my shoulder to steady me, his eyes roam down my body, then back to my face, and I knock his hand off my shoulder, disgusted by his approving eyes, “Man, it’s a shame I won’t be able to see you in that prom dress—” He says with a smirk on his face, the scab on his lip, fading.

“Whatever—” I breathe, trying to push past him, and his hands come up to my waist, pinning me in place.

He smiles then, “No, seriously…you’re looking good, Marlowe—” And he sounds genuine, but this approval is making me lose what little appetite I had, and I roll my eyes because he thinks I look good—What’s a few more pounds lost to stress, just enough to finally win Trent’s acceptance, that’s it—Starve myself until those low rise jeans he loved finally hang off my hip bones.

I shake my head and look away, then he pinches my side, and I shove his hands away, nausea rising to the back of my throat, “Fuck off, Trent—” I seeth, and he raises his hands in mock defense, backing away with a stupid fucking smile on his face.

And right on cue, there’s a scatter of condoms spread across the table, and I run my arm across the surface, swiping them to the ground, then sit, acting as if this isn’t about to set me off. That’s when Miley walks up to my table, kicking a few out of the way, “These people are fucking idiots…” She breathes, and I shrug my shoulders, silently peering up at her.

This girl is the epitome of everything I want to be at this moment: tall, blonde, athletic, kind; the girl that will get the guy, and she has no clue—no clue how lucky she’ll get to be when Harry holds her in his arms, sharing every slow dance at prom, the pictures, the kiss that was guaranteed to happen, and if I’ve learned anything, how easy it is to fall into bed with someone, the hard part was over, they had already had sex, now it will be like riding a bike, their bodies already familiar to one another.

“Hey…I’m sorry to bother you—” Miley starts.

“You’re not bothering me—” I tell her, trying to set her at ease because she looks nervous.

“I just wanted to tell you that I think it’s cool that we’ll be going to the same school…” Then she smiles.

“I know, ” I agree, returning the smile because she’s making it so easy; her easygoing smile beaming down at me feels like the only warmth I’ve had all day.

She shrugs. “Well—” Then she reaches into her back pocket, “I wrote my number on a piece of paper…I don’t know—in case you wanted to, like, meet up before, or like after we’re there…I won’t know anyone.”

“Same,” I say, clearing my throat, choking up at the thought of this small gesture, at the idea of having a friend who seemed brave enough to brave the stares of everyone around us.

“Thank you,” I smile, glancing down at the tiny piece of paper because it’s hard to stare into her big blue eyes without wanting to cry.

She shifts on her feet, “Well, you’re welcome to sit with us…” She invites, jabbing her thumb toward her table, and my eyes flick in that direction, Harry’s whole table staring over at us, except for him. Something about the scowl on Andy’s face seemed like an attempt to ward me off, so I politely declined.

“Don’t worry about Andy…She’s like that with everyone. When I told them what I was doing, Harry—” And my ears perk up at the mention of his name.

“He was the one that said to invite you…” She finishes, and then we both look over. Harry’s eyes, now concentrated on our interaction, and maybe I stare a little too long because when my eyes flit back to Meily, she’s watching me, eyes searching my face, and my eyes move to my table as I scoot upright in my chair.

“I actually have a lot of homework…my family is going on a trip next week. So, I’ll probably just do this…” I lie, my eyes falling on the books in front of me. 

She smiles, “That’s fair…well…I’m sure that offer stands…so if you get tired of sitting alone…You know where to find me…” Then she gives me a small wave and backs away from the table, awkwardly, but to be expected, because she probably hoped I would jump at the offer. 

After she walks away, I dive into my homework. I had gone around to all my classes warning them that I would be gone, organizing everything because I didn’t know how long I would be out after everything, after the process—From what I’ve read, everyone’s body handles the abortion procedure differently, depending on how far along you were.

I never attempted to figure out how far along I was. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to look up information later and find out that the damn thing had an actual heartbeat, put any emphasis that it might actually be closer to a “living” thing than I imagined—right now, this thing was a parasite eating away my insides, ruining my entire future and that’s how it needed to stay, not this “brain fuck” that Harry kept trying to feed me because he chose not to understand.

When the bell rang, I started gathering my stuff, taking my time as people emptied their trays, the noise whizzing around me already making me nervous, gearing up for whatever asshole wanted to poke a quick jab in passing.

But what I wasn’t expecting was Harry.

He stopped me dead in my tracks, almost dropping the books in my hands, and just as he was about to open his mouth, Josh came up and hooked an arm around his neck, dragging him with him. Harry breaks away, fumbling out of his grasp, eyes on me the whole time, my heart racing with anticipation, thinking, yes, this is it, he finally wants to talk, maybe he’s willing to come to an understanding.

Then his eyes drop to the ground, taking a few steps closer, and I watch as he bends down, snatching a gold foil-wrapped condom off the tiled floor, then looks up, a hateful smirk spreading across his face, and says, “You dropped this,” laughing as he tosses the condom onto the stack of books resting on my forearm. 

The sharp corner spikes me through the paper-thin material of my shirt, and I look down. The shiny package now resting against my chest— for a split-second, I stand there in shock, in total disbelief that Harry would sink this low—He had taken it too far; whoever he had been was a lie because that person, the one that stroked my cheek, and told me I was the only girl he wanted, would have never done this, but he was that same person, proving that he’s no different than any other guy.

Instead of giving him the reaction he must be looking for, I push past Harry and his stupid friend, my skin crawling with rage, knowing Josh’s laughter spurred Harry in motion. 

I headed straight through the cafeteria doors, bursting through them, and walked straight to my car, got in, and started the car.

I’m never coming back here, I will never step foot in that fucking hell hole again, and just as I’m about to turn out of the parking lot, I spot Harry’s car. I drove my foot into the break, jerking the car to a stop, and then I slammed the car into park. 

Adrenaline had already taken way, coursing through me as I reached over in the passenger seat and tore through my pile of books until I spotted the gold foil wrapper. With all my rage, I rip the car door open with such force that it springs back—and I kick it open, sliding out of the driver’s seat, my feet hitting the pavement with a thud as I bound over to his car and shove the condom under his windshield wiper, knowing it will be the first thing he sees when he goes to unlock his car. Then I ran back to my car and sped off like a bat out of hell, not wanting to get caught by campus patrol. 

I’m lost in my fury as I speed down the street. At some point, I must have zoned out because the only thing that snapped me out of my haze was the honk of a car horn stuck behind me at a green light. The blare of the noise rattled me back to life, and I stepped on the gas peddle with a heavy foot and shot through the light just as it turned yellow, the car behind me riding my as until they could get around me and when I look over they’re flipping me off.

It’s the nail in the coffin, and I burst into tears, nearly colliding with the car in front of me, my blurry vision hindering my site every time a tear spills over and runs down my face, and then I pull over into the nearest parking lot, scrolling through the numbers in my phone.

Once I reached Sienna’s number, I hit call, and my phone connects to Bluetooth as soon as her phone started to ring. The sound fills my car, rings several times, then goes to voicemail, and I call again. 

Each time I try, she forwards my call, and I’m calling over and over again. Calling until I’m so worked up that I stop altogether and bury my head into my arms, draped across the steering wheel, and cry until I forget where I am.

It’s not until the sound of an incoming car jolts me back to life that I look up, dazed, staring over at the screen spelling out Sienna’s name. When I answer, her voice booms through the car, her voice frantic:

“Lowe, is everything okay? What’s going on? I didn’t have my phone—shit—I’m sorry I missed your calls—”

The tears were back in full swing, and at first, I couldn’t say a thing like the muscles in my throat had fused, aching with every attempt, “Lowe, are you there?” She pushes.

And it takes a few hard swallows even to mutter the word, “Yeah,” and then she jumps right in. 

“Why are you crying? tell me what’s going on?” She pleads, worry helplessly filling her tone. 

“Sienna…” I sob out.

“Yes, Lowe, I’m here…tell me what’s wrong…”

“I just—” I try, and she waits for me to say something else, but I’m losing control. Every word being pushed down by a sob.

“Take a breath, Lowe, everything is going to be okay…” She coaxes.

I know her words are true, but right now, it all feels too heavy, like I can’t do this alone. I know that I can’t do this on my own because I am so scared and so lost in it all that I don’t know what to do anymore, “I just—please—” I beg.

“Tell me what you want—” Then her voice cracks, “Do you want me to come home? 

I cry out then, my sobs echoing over the speakers, “I need help—” I manage to finally say, “Please—” I plead.

“I’m packing a bag right now, okay…where are you?”

And I gasp in a shuddering breath, “In my car…” I tell her, peering around at my surroundings.

“Do you want me to call Mom and have her pick you up? Do you know where you are?”

“I know where I am…” I whisper, my tears sobering at the mention of “Mom.”

“Can you drive?” She asks

I suck in a hard breath through my nose, trying to clear a way for more air, then say, “I can drive.”

“Do you promise? Because you know, Mom will be there as soon as you ask, right?” 

And the thought breaks my heart even more because I should have just come to them in the first place, and I feel like a fucking fool, losing myself to another guy, “I promise—” I tell her, wiping at my eyes as silent tears fall, mourning the fact that I know everything is about to change—that I’ve changed—sad that a piece of me still wants to be that girl that pleases everyone else, that maybe would have given into Harry’s pleas if this would have happened a year ago, and that thought scares me too,

 Would I have been willing to give it all up for him?

“Marlowe?” Sienna nudges.

“Yeah—” I croak, defeated, feeling like I’ve been hung out to dry by a world I didn’t know existed, caught between a parallel of past and present, yet the future is right now, in this moment, knowing everything will change for better or worse, and now, I’ll have to learn to be okay with that and when my sister says:

“Everything is going to be okay. Whatever it is…It’s going to be okay. We’re going to get through this…” She promises.

And then I say, “Sienna, I’m pregnant—”

A/N: Well, guys, that was the last part! Thanks for coming along for the ride!!

Changes Masterlist<-

[artalfons]

love the cat siblings in dawntrail. i got this stupid idea becous it is just litrely them.

[episodes-ff]

The Brotherhood

Shoutout to my fiancée Reina for inspiring this with her incessant flirting 😘

Kierra

Sitting in my room, I busied myself with my studies as I listened to Summer Walker sing me into bliss. I finally was getting over this nigga and all the shit he put me through and I was so proud. Erik and I were in for what I thought would be forever, but forever turned out to be a bald faced lie. I finally had enough of the toxicity and bullshit, and I was finally getting back to loving me. Sipping my wine as I puffed on my thick ass blunt, I vibed to my jams and studied before my little pamper session was interrupted with a call. Seeing the signature 'No Caller ID', I rolled my eyes at his feeble attempts to contact me before I saw my bestie's missed text.

From AriPoo🩷🌸✨: Babyyyyyy! Come to this party with me pweaseeeeeeeeee🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 To AriPoo🩷🌸✨: Un uhhhhh! Arielle, I got work to catch up on! And where tf is this shit anyway?! It better not be at his! From AriPoo🩷🌸✨: It's not. I promise🩷 To AriPoo🩷🌸✨: You said that bs last time, Ari😒🙄 From AriPoo🩷🌸✨: Girl plssssssss!!! To AriPoo🩷🌸✨: 🙄Pick me up in 45 and bitch DPMO From AriPoo🩷🌸✨: Ouuuu thank youuuuuuuuuuu❤ you so good to me! Imma name my first baby after you, girl To AriPoo🩷🌸✨: Bitch stfu🤣

Heaving a deep sigh, I ashed my blunt before placing it on the tray and sitting it in the fridge to hold for later. Getting up, I grabbed my favorite smell goods and wash set before heading into the bathroom to shower. Lavishing in the quick shower, I made sure I hit all my spots using my scrub to accent my wash. Stepping out, I lotioned my body and threw on a couple spritz. Heading to the closet, I settled for a chill black t-shirt and black sweats before topping off the fit with my Retro Mid Red Velvets. Layering some necklaces and a couple rings, I quickly removed my bonnet and admired my hair as I heard Ari pulling up. Rolling my eyes and laughing, I put on some strawberry gloss before flicking it up real quick and heading outside. Stepping in her whip, I looked up as she whined. "Girlllllll, what are you wearing? You look like a whole pretty ass stud!" Arielle fussed as I shook my head. "I told you I didn't wanna go forreal. Be lucky I'm in this car, bitch." "Ugh, you get on my nerves!" "Where are we going anyway?" "Don't even worry about allat." She smiled before pulling off as I rolled my eyes and uploaded my pics.

@kierras_world: Certified heartbreaker🖤💯

Riding along as she bumped some hood shit to get us in the party mood, we laughed and rapped along before pulling up to Cru. Seeing the sign out front that read 'Greek Night' I looked over at her and mugged her. "Ari, what the fuck are we doing here?!" "What you mean?" She mumbled placing on her gloss and checking her face as I crossed my arms. "I'm not fucking going in here." "Girl! It is not gonna be that bad. We just gone pop in so I can see Lando for a little bit and then we'll be out." "Arielle, no we won't! You gone get in that mothafucka and start humping on him and he ain't gone want you to leave. I'm not tryna be anywhere near Erik and you know that!" "Kiki, I'm sorryyyyy! It'll be just for a little bit ok? Who knows, you might meet your new nigga." Rolling my eyes to the pit of hell, I threw a mini fit in my seat before grabbing my ID out my bag as she smiled. "Ouuuu, I promise you won't regret it, now let's hurry up! I'm tryna get a good spot to see my man during their stroll."

Walking in, we were fully engulfed into the chaos of frat brothers and sorors mixing and mingling among the masses as the music blasted from the speakers. Spotting Lando as he chatted with his friends, Ari went running into his arms as I rolled my eyes. "Baeeee! You look so handsome tonight, Daddy." She whimpered sweetly as he nuzzled her neck with kisses. "I can say the same for you, sexy. You tryna make a nigga act up in this club, baby?" He husked as she giggled obnoxiously against his chest. Smiling at her, he looked up finally acknowledging me. "Wassup, Ki?" "Nun much. How you doing, Lando?" "I'm better now that my baby here. Your man E around here somewhere." He stated looking around for Erik as I shook my head. "He is definitely not my man!" I clarified as he looked past me chuckling. "So I'm not ya man, baby?" He breathed against my ear as I shivered under his touch.

Turning me to face him, I fought tooth and nail trying not to get lost in his appearance as he stared me down. Looking away from him, he gently lifted my chin back to face him. "Can you fucking move?" "No! Why you been dodging me, Bunny?" He asked calling me by that awful nickname that I used to cherish so much. "Move, Erik." "Will you just talk to me? What did I do wrong, baby?" He murmured against my neck slinking his strong arms around my waist and rubbing my backside. "Baby, um, I got the shots. What is she doing here?" His new little piece, Jayda, asked in confusion as her and her girls eyed me with hatred. "Exactly why the fuck you're blocked, nigga." I spat prying his hands off me before walking off.

Erik

"Why the fuck was she over here, Erik?!" "Man watch the fuck out! Why you so pressed about it for? We not together." "We fucking every night like we are though!" She rebutted mugging me as I clenched my jaw. "Key word, fucking. You just a quick ass nut for me, mama. It ain't nothing special between us so do yoself a favor and wake the fuck up." I spat getting in her face as she frowned on the verge of throwing puppy dog eyes as if I gave a fuck. "Baby, why are you even chasing her?! She's not here with you, I am! I don't know why you worried about that fat bitch." She ranted. "And just who the fuck you calling a fat bitch?! Cause you not ever competing with my best friend, not even on her worst day." Ari gritted pushing past me, Kari, and Jayda as he sighed and mugged me. "Whatever this shit is? Handle it. Got me getting in trouble and shit cause yo hoe don't wanna act right a-" He continued to rant as I palmed my forehead.

Spotting our rivals as they strolled through, I put on my game face as their chapter sponsor, professor Cross, conversed and joked with ours, Dr. Anderson and his wife, Vanessa. Getting the other brothers in line, we watched the tail end of their side strolling in to one of their anthems as we made eye contact with Terry and his lackeys performing one of their arduous chants. Can't believe I ever called this nigga a friend. Growing up, me and Terry were thick as thieves, always in some shit together or just chilling. We even planned our careers together, both choosing to embark on our academics at Clark Atlanta University with Kiki by our sides. Shit took a turn junior year a little after Kierra and I made things official, but I'll never know why. I feel like his ass was jealous of what we had so he decided to distance himself, but that ain't none of my business. My only priority is Kierra and getting back into her good graces.

Looking up, I noticed he was all in her face as she giggled at his antics. Hell naw! Telling Jakari to hold down the line, I made my way over to break up their lil happy time. "Ahahaha!" I chuckled obnoxiously as she cast a cold glare in my direction. "Ain't this beautiful? My old friend and my girl, who would have thought?" “Nigga I’m not your girl. Move!" "Nahhhh, I wanna know what's so funny? Shiiiiit, I like to laugh." "I see you two need to talk. Kiki, I'll text you the address to that after party." "Bet thank you so much, Tee." "Anytime, beautiful." He smiled kissing her hand before throwing a smug look my way and walking off. "Kierra, what the fuck is that about?" "I don’t have to explain shit to you, bye Erik." "Will you stop walking away from this?! From us?" "You left us behind when you fucked that bitch and got her pregnant!" Sighing, I closed my eyes and nodded. "I understand, Kiki. I made a mistake but I give you my word that I've changed. Why can't you see that?" "Because this isn't the first time you've given your word and lied to my face." She murmured quickly wiping her face and walking off.

Terry

Watching Kierra as she stood off to the side sulking, I shook my head. That nigga still a fucking clown, I see. Walking up to her, I tapped her on the shoulder causing her to look up from her red cup. "Why you over here frowning, man?" "I don't really wanna talk about it, Tee." She frowned waving me off. Moving in front of her, I tilted her chin with the tip of my fingertips as I stared into her beautiful eyes. "Kierra, I've known yo ass since diapers so allow me to say this shit and take heed to my advice... fuck that weak ass nigga. I mean that shit from the bottom of my heart. You doing all this huffin' and puffin' when you could be getting that juicy ass pussy ate from the back. Now stop whining over this man and go get you some." I spat sincerely her eyes glazed over.

Watching her carefully to see if she would take heed to my message, she slowly played with her fingers before staring up at my lips. Heaving a sigh, she reached up and brought my mouth to hers in a deep, sensual kiss. Feeling the electricity crackling off of her body, I seized the moment and reached down squeezing her ass as I had dreamt of doing for years. Moaning sweetly, she gripped my camo pants yanking me closer to her as I bit her lip. "Wait, wait. Not here. Pop up to the after party." "I definitely will. Bring your fine ass friend too." She smiled biting her lip as she pointed behind me. "Shiiiit, which one?" I asked as she gazed over at Keem, Dwayne, and Duke. "Mmmmm, how bout you pick. Surprise me." She smirked kissing my cheek as I bit my lip and smacked her ass while she walked away. Chuckling to myself, I looked up and watched as Erik glared at me along with his lame ass bros, Lando, Jordan, and Rome. "Aye, Duke!" "Wassup, bruh?" "We got some shit to handle tonight." "Aii, bet that up."

**AN HOUR LATER**

Kierra

Walking into the after party at the Que house as the music boomed from the speakers, I watched the sexy bodies grind and gyrate on the main floor as drunken classmates continued living their best life. Watching Terry's fine ass emerge from the kitchen, I licked my bottom lip as his eyes found mine causing him to come closer. Wrapping his strong hands around my waist, he smirked leaning down to my ear to talk over the beat. "Glad you could make it." "Me too." I giggled before feeling chills as his lips gently caressed my neck. "Damn, you smell so fucking good, girl. Always got that vanilla shit on." He husked as I giggled harder. "I'm forreal, girl. Be making a nigga wanna bite yo fine ass." "What's stopping you?" I got serious challenging him as he walked further up on me. Gesturing him forward with my index finger, I gasped as he tossed me over his broad shoulders and glided up the stairs.

Making it into his bedroom, he placed me on my feet before encasing me in a breathtakingly sultry kiss. Exploring each other's mouths, I whimpered as he squeezed my tender breasts and backed me toward the bed. "I been waiting a long time to touch you." He praised slowly undressing me to reveal the lingerie I had changed into before arriving. Thank God I got my monthly maintenance done a few days ago. "Fuuuuuck, Kiki." He groaned making love to me with his gaze as I did a slow twirl for him. "I'm bout to fuck the everlasting shit out of you, girl." "Not so fast, baby. Where's your back up?" Smirking deviously, he let out a deep gutted 'augh' before his homeboy walked in locking the door. "Mmmm, I love a little chocolate with my caramel. What's your name, baby?" "I'm Duke." "Ouuu, I like that. Show me your best neck roll, Duke." Watching him stick out his thick pink tongue, he slowly recoiled rolling his neck and shoulders as I bit my nail. "Very impressive. Now let's see you put that tongue to use."

****

"Fuuuuuuuck, Daddy!!! Eat that shit just like that!" I cried out grinding on Duke's wonderful tongue as I resumed sucking off Terry. I was in agonizing bliss as he gripped and yanked at my hair. I'm already knowing Tasha gone have a field day when I go to my next hair appointment! "Fuck, you eating that dick up so good, Mama. That nasty fucking mouth." He praised smacking my cheek before gripping my chin and the back of my head to hold me in place. "Don't you fucking run." He seethed slowly sliding his tip to touch the back of my throat as tears and snot rained and down my face. Finally freeing me, he continued smacking my face as I shivered on top of Duke's face. I was in fucked out heaven with no desire to return earth side as his tongue made love to my aching clit.

Taken out of my trance as Tee grabbed my throat, he told me to open up before spitting in my mouth and kissing me roughly. Grinding my waist from the sensation of the kiss, I felt his buddy massaging my juicy ass. "Mmmm, eat it baby!" I moaned reaching back to grip and jerk Duke's member in my hand as my climax rumbled from within. "Nah, you using the wrong shit to grip with, shawty." Duke smiled licking my essence off his lips and he tapped me to lean up. Slipping up off of him, we changed places as I arched my ass high in the air for Terry and started to suck Dee off. Using his paddle to lash my behind, I shook under his powerful 'love taps' before he massaged his tip against my opening. "Damn, baby, stop teasing! Where's the big dawg at?" "He right fucking here, girl, don't play wit me." "Let me pet that dawg then." I mewled reaching between my legs to stroke him before eyeing Duke as I throated him deeply. "You a muhfuckin' tease you know that?" Duke realized. "It's part of my major." "Oh really? I got something for that." Tee chimed before slamming into me. "Damn, Daddy, that's all you got?" I smirked knowing it would wake up the beast. Chuckling deeply, he gripped both of my wrists before power driving me while Duke held onto my head. "Mmmmm!!" "Nahhhh, where's allat back talk, baby? You wanted the big dawgs, come and get 'em."

Tags: @theereina @violetmuses @kaylaahisthebestest- @mymindisneverhere @simpledopeme @believeinthefireflies95 @brisunique @madxlov3 @casualsludgeshoetoad @mauvecherie-writes @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @kumkaniudaku @geneziesm @megamindsecretlair @goldenjasssy @vivaalenaa @playgurlxoxo @ghettogirly @luuvprincess @perfectlyimperfectme @tbmotw @comfortzonequeen @melanin-honeyy @strawberrymoon45 @luckygirlszn @kindofaintrovert @secretlifeoofmarpessa @cmbmjbfan @summwerella @qdancer22 @ihateyallniggas @rebelrel0987 @cheracherachera @bhristpher @cocooned-butterfly @theblessedcap @deijalee @ranikyani @catha2003 @magik22 @sweettea-and-honeybutter @pinkbuzzlightyrrr @justicefordeanthomas @liv10002 @kalideshawnwrites @j0joworld @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @brattyfics @kimuzostar

[macknus]

Febuwhump Day Fourteen

Prompt: Becoming the Monster

Happy Valentine’s Day guys!!!

Febuwhump Master-post

Whumpee was dragged in by two of Whumper’s dark knights; the soulless demons of men that stood over six-feet tall and were the monsters parents told their children about at night. Inhuman, built by pure muscle and power and spite, like loyal dogs that followed their Master’s commands flawlessly.

Whumpee had fought against them when they came. Thrown himself into the fight, grabbing one of the knight’s giant cleavers and slicing through the only weakness Whumpee knew about in their armour; under the armpit. The black blood from the beast sprayed Whumpee’s face and clothes, choking as the foul stench invaded his senses.

Blinded by the blood, he didn’t see the gauntlet flying for his face until the last second. He dodged but the blow caught his jaw and he went spinning before he fell. He rolled to his stomach groaning as he pushed himself up, but another blow came to the back of his head and he went down. Barely conscious he felt the dark knights grab his arms and drag him to a carriage bathed in black, velvet fabric with a red symbol embroidered into the door.

Whumpee couldn’t even fight as they threw him into the carriage, couldn’t catch himself before he hit the metal grate on the bottom, smacking his temple against it. He groaned again as somebody climbed in behind him and the doors shut behind him.

“Hello Whumpee,” a playful, honeyed voice said above him. Whumpee groaned again. Even in his semi-conscious state, he’d recognise that fucking cultivated voice anyway. The voice of a snake dressed as a dream, a viper in the skin of a man.

“Kaeto?” Whumpee murmured, the world spinning even before the carriage took off on the road.

“Ah, wonderful. The brutes didn’t hit you too hard then. Get up, Whumpee. A man of your breeding shouldn’t be on the ground of a carriage,” he purred.

“I’m fine here, thanks,” Whumpee clipped.

A hand of slim fingers bunched into Whumpee’s shirt and in a flash Whumpee was dragged from the ground and thrown into the plush, crimson seats across from Kaeto. He smiled a vulpine smile, his jaw length white blond hair radiant even in the darkness of the carriage.

“Now. Much better. I can get a look at you,” Kaeto said, his silver eyes searched Whumpee from head to toe. His gaze felt like hands, stroking cold fingers over his body, making sure to dig his nails in when he found something he disapproved of.

“Paint a fucking portrait why don’t you?” Whumpee snarled.

Kaeto’s face remained disgustingly pleasant. He tilted his head to the side as he leaned on his cane, silver cat-like eyes alight with interest.

“You’re thinner since last I saw you, though you don’t seem to have lost your strength. And… your beard,” Kaeto said, his lip curling back with distaste. “Not to worry, a hideous addition that can be swiftly removed. Hmm, maybe a haircut too. And—” Kateo sniffed the air. “Gods, boy, did you sleep with wolves while you were away?”

Whumpee smiled coldly at Kaeto. “Always happy to displease, Kaeto.”

Whumpee glanced at the doors to the carriage, but before he could even form a plan of escape the end of Kaeto’s cane pressed into his chest, pushing him back against the leather. Kaeto’s face didn’t morph from pleasant, but his eyes burned with a sadistic light.

“Do it, boy, I haven’t had the thrill of a chase in a while.”

Whumpee swallowed, his hands tightening into fists at his sides, but he released his fingers and relaxed into the seat and put his hands up.

The crazed light dimmed in Kaeto’s eyes a little, his pupils returning to normal size. He pulled the cane back and put it on the ground. “Hmph. Seems you have learned some things in the wild.”

“I wasn’t in the wild,” Whumpee huffed. “I just wasn’t in Whumper’s dead, stone palace. What does he want with me anyways?”

“You know exactly what he wants, boy.”

Whumpee didn’t flinch or bristle at the confirmation.

“Well my answer remains the same.”

Kaeto let out a melodic laugh that was anything but warm. “Oh, sweetheart,” Kaeto cooed. Whumpee clenched his jaw. “You don’t get a choice this time, I’m afraid.”

Whumpee’s lips curled back. Kaeto laughed again. “You do look like a wild brute when you do that, boy. It’s the dishevelment I think. It gives you a je-ne-sais-quoi.”

“I’m a bastard, remember?” Whumpee snarled. “I can’t inherit his title no matter how much he wants me to.”

Kaeto leaned back in his seat and spread his hands, showing his palms in an almost shrug. “And yet, here we are. In the middle of the Hollows, retrieving you. You were difficult to find, Whumpee, almost as if you were trying to hide from us.”

Whumpee didn’t answer.

Kaeto leaned forward again on his cane. His eyes shining with amusement and something older. Something wiser. “The world works in mysterious ways, bastard. When you live long enough to see it all, there is an intrinsic magic to life.”

“Are you a philosopher now?”

Kaeto smirked. “While looking this good? Absolutely not. I’m far too vain for that, boy, as you well know.”

Whumpee scoffed but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He glanced out the windows of the carriage. Yeah. He knew.

They passed for a while in silence. A furrow formed in Whumpee’s brow as he glanced back at Kaeto. Kaeto never took his eyes from Whumpee while he contemplated quietly. But they lit up when Whumpee turned an inquisitive eye to him, a question under his tongue.

“Would you bow to a bastard, Kaeto?”

“Not one with a beard, boy,” Kaeto replied smoothly.

Whumpee’s eyes narrowed. “I mean it. Would you? If I am to be his heir, that’s what you’ll have to do you know.”

Kaeto’s pupils dilated with interest, until his pupil nearly eclipsed his iris like a terrifying, killer cat. “I have been aware of that since I sensed the power on you years ago, Whumpee. The gods have ordained you to be the heir. How could I, a humble servant, refuse what is divined?”

“You’re far from humble.”

“That’s true.”

“Or a servant.”

“Also true,” Kaeto sighed, scowling. “You couldn’t let me be dramatic for a moment?”

“You’re always dramatic,” Whumpee told him.

Kaeto rolled his eyes. “I didn’t miss your lack of enthusiasm for wordplay. If the future of this court is to be all plain speaking I will have to form a rebellion against your rule.”

Kaeto shot Whumpee a grin, exposing his sharp teeth. Whumpee scoffed and went back to staring out the window. His chest tightened as they passed from the Hollows into the outskirts of the city. Green grass and lush trees with changing leaves gave way to stone and moss and dirt as they past the poorest neighbourhood in the luxurious carriage.

Whumpee scowled as he stared out the window.

How his “father” could let this kind of poverty and sickness run through the most vulnerable of his subjects angered Whumpee. But then again, his father wasn’t known for being warm. Not even to his proper children.

He hated the man, and everything him and his infernal family and court stood for.

That’s why when the carriage stopped and Kaeto stepped out into the courtyard of the palace, Whumpee slammed the door shut and held it tightly in place. He wished there were locks on the inside of this infernal thing. But it didn’t take long for one of the dark knight’s to rip the door open and drag Whumpee out, snarling and kicking and fighting until he was subdued again, this time by Kaeto, whacking the back of his head with a cane. The silver eyed man told him to behave and Whumpee groaned in response.

They brought him straight to the throne room, Kaeto leading the way. They paused outside the doors when they opened and Kaeto stepped through, spreading his arms wide.

“Whumper, my darling friend. I have retrieved your renegade son.”

Whumpee caught a glimpse of Whumper in his throne. He sat more like a rake than a King; half sprawled across it as if he was bored, an elbow rested on the arm of the throne, a fist on his chin, propping his head up as he stared with his midnight eyes at the giant double doors. He had the same wavy, raven coloured hair as Whumpee that fell to just below his chin. The same strong jaw and straight nose.

In fact, many from the court said, Whumpee had more likeness to the King than any of his pure blooded children which served to anger Whumpee’s half siblings to an unnerving degree.

“Bring him in,” Whumper said, his voice deep, apathetic, like a tired God that was bored of life and all it had to offer because he had seen it all. But the moment Kaeto stepped out from in front of Whumpee, Whumpee saw the cruelty that was carved into his father’s face.

He looked at Whumpee with complete disdain, which was saying something since he usually only ever looked disinterested. The king glanced at the dark knights who dragged Whumpee in and held him before the raised dais to the throne.

His father nodded at the knights and they forced Whumpee to his knees in front of Whumper. Whumpee swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to still his racing heart.

“Where have you been, boy?” There was no affection in the question. No love or concern. Simply irritation for having caused so much trouble to be found.

Whumpee didn’t answer.

Whumper’s eyes flickered to Kaeto. “He was deep in the Hollows, your majesty. Hiding amongst the common folk.”

“That is where he belongs after all,” a snide voice interjected from behind. Whumper’s eldest son. In all respects Whumper’s spiritual successor, every bit as cruel, sadistic and evil as his father. And yet, the gods bestowed Whumpee with Whumper’s inheritance. “Isn’t that right, bastard?”

“A coward too,” another voice crooned, this time high pitched and beautiful, like a song floating through the throne room. Whumper’s eldest daughter added.

“Enough,” Whumper grumbled to his children who bowed their heads to him.

“Of course, Father.”

Whumpee rolled his eyes. Whumper snapped his attention back to him and Whumpee had to stop himself from swallowing. He couldn’t show fear. Nor any sort of emotion. Not in this den of vipers.

“Well boy?” Whumper demanded. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Nothing.”

Whumper’s eyes narrowed. He shifted in his throne, sitting up straighter. “I assume that you knew I wanted you home before your twenty-first birthday.”

It wasn’t a question. Whumpee shrugged. “Lost track of time.”

“You arrogant little cunt,” Eldest said, and before Whumpee could reply, Eldest was in front of him. Whumpee’s eyes widened only slightly at his brother’s speed as Eldest lifted his hand to strike him. A hand caught Eldest’s wrist before he could make impact. Eldest whimpered as Whumpee’s saviour dragged him away from Whumpee.

To Whumpee’s surprise it was Whumper himself. “He was disrespecting you, father.”

“I know that,” Whumper growled low. “But discipline of any and all of my unruly children remains with me, boy.”

A thinly veiled threat. Whumpee couldn’t help the satisfied smile that graced his lips when Eldest shot a glare at him.

Whumper squeezed Eldest’s wrist and slammed it back in his chest. Eldest gasped, cradling the injury as he turned back to his sister. “Leave,” Whumper ordered, and the two did, staring murderously at Whumpee as they left.

Whumpee smirked then at Whumper. “When I inherit your crown, will I be able to discipline all your unruly children?”

A slap echoed through the throne room as Whumpee’s head whipped to the side. After a pause of registering he was slapped, did Whumpee feel the coppery tang of blood in his mouth from the smack.

“Petulant child. If you didn’t have a trace of my power when you were born I would have drowned you in the river.”

Whumpee curled his lip back revealing blood stained teeth. “Maybe you should have. It would have saved you a lot of headaches.”

Whumper glared down his nose at Whumpee before his lips broke into a cold, hungry smile. “You have the nerves for the power, at least.”

Whumpee blinked at the praise. His mind going back to how Eldest whimpered and balked at his father’s discipline.

Whumper clapped a hand on Whumpee’s shoulder. “But we both know violence won’t make you accept my legacy, so Kaeto and I came up with a different means to get you in line.”

Whumpee bristled at the mention of the cat-like courtier, who was more subtly sadistic than his father. Whumper’s eyes went over Whumpee’s head to Kaeto behind him.

“You did bring her?” Whumpee stiffened under his father’s hand.

“Of course, Whumper.”

His heart thundered against his chest as Whumper nodded. “Bring her in.”

Whumpee didn’t loose a breath, he didn’t dare a door to the side of the throne room opened. Whumpee turned his head and his heart dropped into a pit of his stomach. He jerked to his feet but Whumper’s hand pressed him back to the ground with ease.

Caretaker was being escorted in by two dark knights on either side of her, dragging her in, a cloth tied tightly around her mouth cut into her cheeks that Whumpee knew would leave bruises as she fought and kicked. Blood streamed down her hairline and from her nose and Whumpee shot up again but he didn’t get further than before, his knees cracked against the marble with such force he thought they would have shattered.

When Caretaker’s eyes met Whumpee’s she stopped walking, but the knights continued to drag her. Tears filled her eyes as she looked at Whumpee, then Whumper then Kaeto and she started screaming profanities at Kaeto as she was dragged closer and closer.

“What’re you— how did you—” Whumpee stammered, his head twisting to see Kaeto leaning on his cane, cat-like eyes bright with satisfaction. “You’re a bastard, Kaeto!”

Whumpee would have lunged at him if he could, but Kaeto just smiled. “Not as much as you, darling boy.”

Whumpee turned back to Whumper, eyes pleading. “She has nothing to do with this! Let her go.”

Whumper put a hand under Whumpee’s chin and tilted his head up further until Whumpee’s neck was strained. “Did you just demand something of me, boy?”

Whumpee’s eyes went to Caretaker as she was dragged up the steps of the dais and wrestled to a kneeling position beside the throne.

“Please!” Whumpee cried. “Please, just… just let her go.”

Whumper tilted his head. His eyes darkened. “And what do I get in return?”

Whumpee’s heart hammered against his throat, his mind racing as he stared at Caretaker who kept trying to push herself to her feet in vain. The knights stood on each side of her, keeping her down.

Whumper let go of Whumpee and stepped back, half turned and walked up the steps to his throne. Whumpee lunged but two gauntleted hands grabbed each of his upper arms and restrained him, keeping him down too.

“The way I see it,” Whumper continued, walking over to Caretaker who glared up at him without fear. God. Whumpee’s heart jumped into his throat as Whumper reached a hand to Caretaker’s hair and stroked her head like a pet. “Either you accept my inheritance, take your place as the next ruler of this kingdom and all that comes with it, or I’ll be forced to incentivise you further.”

Caretaker’s eyes shot to Whumpee’s in shock. He never told her who he was, what he was to Whumper. He wanted to have a normal life with her. To settle down with her. Not… not this.

God, not this.

Whumper sat in his throne again, his hand drifting to the nape of Caretaker’s neck and pinching it. Caretaker cried out, struggling to get away but with her hands tied and the knights holding her down she couldn’t move an inch and neither could Whumpee.

“Come on, boy,” Kaeto crooned, sitting on the steps of the dais now. “Don’t force us to bless this mortal with our gifts.”

Whumpee’s eyes widened. “What?” He whispered.

Whumper smiled coldly at Whumpee. “One of you will be turned today, Whumpee. It’s your decision who that will be.”

Whumpee looked at Caretaker. Caretaker… who smiled at him with so much happiness and joy. Who taught him how to hunt for the stewing kind of mushrooms in the woods. Who taught him about the simple joys in life. Who opened herself up to him, her body to him under the stars by the lake. Who’s eyes twinkled with mischief when she was about to kiss him.

Caretaker who was so full of life.

He wouldn’t let them dull that sparkle in her eyes. In her heart. In her soul.

Caretaker flinched, as if she heard his thoughts. Then her struggles became more forceful and violent.

“Nngh! Nngh! ‘Umpee nngh!”

Kaeto’s eyes gleamed. “You’re doing the right thing, lad.”

“You better fucking watch yourself when I inherit his legacy, Kaeto,” Whumpee growled, struggling against the arms holding him.

“I sleep with one eye open every night, child.” Kaeto purred.

Whumpee turned his glare to Whumper then. “She goes free before we complete the rite.”

Whumper stroked Caretaker’s hair again. “I’m afraid she is the only thing that will ensure you keep your word.”

Whumpee swallowed. “But… when I— she’s human.”

Whumper smiled a rotten smile at him. “From what I’ve heard you two have been intimate already,” Whumper said, and Caretaker’s face flushed the same lethal red as Whumpee’s. “There’s nothing more intimate than being your first drink as a vampire, son.”

Caretaker stiffened. Whumpee turned his head to her, because he had to. He had to see her shivering, trembling as she looked at him now. Like he was a monster. It’s what he would be after all this was over. Just like his siblings. Just like his father and Kaeto.

“I don’t want to feed on her,” Whumpee said, his voice strained. “I’ll only agree to the rite if you bring me other humans to feed on. If you guarantee me her safety. That no harm will come to her.”

Kaeto let out an exaggerated sigh. “Wouldn’t you rather she be your queen? Hmm? Rule eternally by your side?”

“No,” Whumpee said a little too harshly. He turned to Caretaker. “I mean… I wish I could make you my wife, and guarantee your safety by my side forever, but my family… my siblings, you would always be a target. Always be threatened here. To hurt me they’d hurt you.”

Tears streamed down Caretaker’s face as she wept, sniffing, no longer struggling to escape as he spoke so gently to her.

“I love you,” he said. “I love everything you are. I love how you’re smarter than me, and like to let me know it. I love how you sing when you’re picking herbs in the garden.”

He felt his own tears bubble over his eyes as he continued. “I love how kind you are to strangers. How full of life and love and light, and I can’t dim that by locking you away in a black castle like this.”

She shook her head as she wept audibly now, muffled by the gag. “I can’t do that. Not to you. I love you so much that I’m willing to become a monster so you get to live a long, happy life free from court skulduggery and threats around every corner.”

“Nngh,” she cried in reply.

“I’m sorry,” he sniffed and turned back to his father who watched with interest and something unreadable in his face. “I’ll do it as long as she remains human. Before, during and after the blood rite.”

Whumper’s grin exposed his sharp fangs and Whumpee knew he sealed his fate. “Deal.”

*~*~*~*~*

Tag-list: @whump-in-the-closet :)

[akiiame-blog]

Welcome to another edition of:

Common Misconceptions of the Mario Series that are Incredibly Annoying

This time, this post has inspired me to talk about how unfair it really is that Mario, and only Mario, gets regularly accused of being "a cold-hearted psychopath because he stomps on Goombas and Koopas."

Let's ignore the fact that this has been incredibly dumb to unironically claim and instead focus on this:

Many other characters like Luigi, Peach, Toad, etc have done the exact same actions before.

Yet, I don't see a single person accuse Luigi the same way people constantly accuse Mario.

Strange, isn't it?

I would assume that the average person who knows Mario would have the knowledge that other characters other than Mario have done the same actions that have been deemed as harsh or even evil. There's been numerous games where this is the case.

So why is it that it's cool when Luigi or the other characters do it, but it's suddenly a problem when Mario does it?

It's a contradiction that is so blatantly obvious. And maybe that's part of the "joke," but the "joke" ran itself into the ground way back in 2014.

[jeongguksu]

"let's play a game"

pairing: uni student!jk x uni student!f. reader

genre: smut

warnings: slapping, public sex, dom!jk

"Y/N, let's play a game.” Jungkook whispers into your ear. “Don't get caught."

You press your lips together, desperately trying to stop the whimpers slipping out. You really don’t want anyone to hear you, to catch you in this state: your face and exposed breasts are pressed onto the door of the bathroom stall, jeans and panties halfway down your legs while your boyfriend rams into you from behind. 

At least it’s lunchtime, so not many students are on the seventh floor of the school building at this time, but it doesn’t help that Jungkook’s thrusts are increasing in speed, pushing you harder against the wobbling door.  

“Kook-” you try to call him amidst your moans. “Too much, it’s too much-”

Slap. 

Jungkook rubs the flush area on your ass with his hand. “No, baby. Fucking take it all.”

“But- I can’t-” you pant, “keep quiet.” Your hand goes up to cup your mouth in an attempt to muffle the noise, but it’s no use. 

In one motion, Jungkook grabs your hair, pulling your torso away from the door and flushes onto his clothed chest, which causes you to release a particularly loud whine. 

“Well,” you can almost hear the cocky smile through the way he speaks, “isn’t that the whole point of the game?”