#the ballad of the lost and the living

[yourdarkcherry]

The Ballad of the Lost and the Living

Ch.1

Summary: It’s the end of the fucking world. Infected humans roam the earth, trying to tear each other apart, and survival is all that matters. For the past year, you've learned the hard way not to trust anyone. People are more dangerous than the infected. But then you meet Peter Parker. The kind, persistent, and somehow still hopeful despite the chaos Peter Parker. When you run into him while scavenging for supplies, your instincts scream to push him away. But something about him makes you take a leap of faith. He tells you about a sanctuary that his group found, a place where maybe, just maybe, you can rebuild what’s been lost.

Warnings: zombie apocalypse, rape/noncon, reader has parental issues, violence, reader is black, explicit sexual content.

You used to have preferences for water. Apparently, you couldn’t drink just any kind of water. It had to be cold, with condensation running down the tall glass. It must be bottled water, not tap, because that was just disgusting. It had to be slightly alkaline—you didn’t even know how you could tell the difference, but you believed whatever the water company told you.

But now, you don’t really give a fuck.

It was the end of the world. Any kind of water was good enough, as long as it was clean. Obviously, you had to boil it first before drinking it. But in your current state, you couldn’t even manage that. Not when you were standing on one good leg, with a fever making you feel hot and cold at the same time.

The bit of water in a bottle on the cashier counter of the pharmacy looked good enough to you, so you downed it along with an antibiotic pill.

Why the fuck were antibiotic pills so goddamn big?

Allegedly, before the world ended you were crowned the nickname of “Picky Princess” you almost want to laugh at that name as you rip off a bit of beef jerky with your teeth.

The world ended about a bit over a year ago, you were with a group. It consisted of your college friends and a few strangers that decided to join you. Then one of you suggested entering an abandoned mall. It was a small one, but surely there were gonna be some supplies begging to be scavanged.

A stupid mistake—one careless noise—and suddenly there were too many of them. You could still hear the screams, still see the way the blood splattered across the shiny tile floors.

You were the only one who made it out.

That was three months ago. Since then, you haven’t spoken to another human being. You haven’t heard your own voice in so long, it felt foreign to you now.

You were doing fine on your own. Until a rapid dog chased you, and you scraped your leg with metal wiring in your escape. You slept two days with the wound after covering it and washing it with water. But it grew irritated by the third day and made walking difficult for you.

It’s why you wound up in this pharmacy in a small town just south of New York. You want to sit down on the filthy floor, your legs unable to handle your weight any longer.

You capped the empty water bottle and slid it back onto the counter like it mattered to leave things tidy. That’s when you heard it: the faint sound of shuffling feet and something metallic clinking nearby.

You froze.

“Hey,” a voice called softly, startling you.

You whipped around, your knife already in hand, aiming at the figure standing in the aisle. A guy—tall, lean but still has some muscle to him, with big innocent brown eyes. His hands were up, palms out in a gesture of surrender.

“Whoa, easy,” he said, his voice calm but a little shaky. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

You didn’t lower your knife, not really buying his words.

“Get the fuck away from me,” you growled, “or I’ll stab the fuck out of you.”

He hesitated but didn’t move closer. His eyes flicked to your leg, the blood-stained bandage, and then back to your face. “I don’t think you’re in any condition to do that,” he said, a hint of nervous humor in his tone.

His attempt at dissociating the tension didn’t work. So, he cleared his throat and then you noticed his lack of supplies. He didn’t have a backpack, just a gun on a holster and perhaps a small pocket knife hidden in that big buckle of his belt.

Did he have companions? Did he leave his supplies with them?

You don’t trust him for even one second. The current state of the world takes away your trust in humans, and in men even more.

Men are more cruel than the infected. At least with the infected they would eat you up and not leave you to suffer.

"Miss, look…” He took a step closer, his hands still raised. But you weren’t buying it. “I got separated from my group about two days ago. I don’t have any supplies. I haven’t eaten anything since then. Will you be so kind as to share that?” He said then pointed at your right hand, that one that had the beef jerky.

His eyes were wide now, something in his face giving away the desperation creeping through. You could see it—the faint quiver of his lips, the sheen of sweat on his forehead despite the chill air around you.

You stared at him, eyes narrowing, the knife still loosely in your left hand, and for a moment, you considered just walking away. Leaving him to fend for himself, like everyone else you’d come across. It wouldn’t make a difference, would it?

Humans were as dangerous as the infected. That much you were sure of.

But then, you felt it. The gnawing hunger in your gut, the fever that made your head spin. You had barely enough for yourself, and the pain in your leg wasn’t making it easier. The antibiotic pill you’d just swallowed felt like a joke—useless unless you could properly rest and get more nourishing food.

You don’t know what it is about this man. You decide to blame it on his innocent brown eyes. With that, you take a leap of faith and sigh as you unzip your backpack and take out a can of beans. You place it on the floor, and kick it to him with your good leg.

He froze for a moment, staring at the can as though it were some kind of treasure. Then his gaze snapped up to meet yours, uncertainty still written across his face.

He didn’t waste any more time. He crouched down quickly, hands trembling as he grabbed the can.

“Thank you,” he said.

You nodded once, but that was all. No more words. It felt wrong, somehow, to let him think this was something more than survival. You weren’t in the business of making friends anymore.

Glancing back at the exit of the pharmacy, you made sure no one was coming in. The faint sound of the wind rattling the door was the only thing you could hear.

“I’ll get out of your hair now.” He says, then takes the empty water bottle you just downed from the counter. “Just so you know, there’s a herd coming. Less than ten minutes away. If you want to survive, you should leave. Now.”

With that, he turns around and heads towards the glass double doors. Before he pulls one open and leaves he looks at you. “Thank you.” He says, lifting the can. Before you can utter a word back, not that you know what to tell him in response anyway, he leaves.

You couldn’t help but feel the weight of his words—the warning about the herd. Less than ten minutes. Your heart thudded harder in your chest, but it wasn’t fear. It was that strange, gnawing sense of urgency.

You needed to move. You needed to find shelter before it was too late.

The door had barely closed behind him, and you already heard the distant groan of the infected. You didn’t waste a second in picking up the makeshift cane, and leaving from the back door—just in case he was lying to you and he did have companions with him who were possibly cannibalists, or even worse, rapists.

But as you stepped into the cold air outside, you weren’t expecting the herd to be coming from the back door. The sickening shuffle of their dragging feet. You spun around, and faced the back alley as your pulse spiked with the world tilted on its axis.

Panic rushed through you. The sounds of the herd grew louder, closer. Your instincts screamed for you to run.

You moved quickly, forcing your injured leg to carry you, but the pain surged through your body, threatening to pull you down at any moment. You stumbled forward, adrenaline flooding your veins. You had to keep moving.

But the uneven ground, the weight of exhaustion, and the gnawing pain in your leg all took their toll. You didn’t even see the big rock until your foot caught on it.

Your body lurched forward, your hands hitting the ground, and you barely managed to catch yourself before the impact. The world spun, and you tried to scramble back up, but your leg gave up on you.

You looked down and saw the blood seeping from a newly opened wound on your knee, gushing out and soaking into your jeans. Not with your good leg being injured as well too.

You knew you couldn’t escape like this. You’d never make it.

And with all honesty, you didn’t want to anymore.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as you laid back, staring up at the sky, feeling the weight of your body sink into the cold ground.

Death wasn’t something you feared. After everything, it felt like a relief. You were tired. Your life had never been kind to you.

Despite growing up with a golden spoon in your mouth, you had the worst kind of upbringing. The kind that left scars deeper than any physical wound. You didn’t relate to the term “the angry man in the house” because you didn’t have one angry man. You had two angry people in your home. Two people who never once looked at you like you were worth anything more than a mistake and a waste of space.

So, you let go. You welcomed the darkness, the peace that came with knowing you weren’t going to fight anymore.

And then you heard it. The groan. The unmistakable sound of an infected drawing closer. The first one, its face twisted in hunger, crouched down near your bloody leg. Its mouth opened wide, ready to feast.

For a moment, you thought you’d be nothing more than their dinner. You only hope they would attack your vital points so you don’t have to suffer through it.

But then a loud gunshot pierces the air. The infected falls on the floor, unmoving. You barely registered what happened as you tried to blink through your blurred vision.

“Hang on!”

You felt strong arms grab you, pulling you up against someone’s chest. It was him. The man from the pharmacy.

You felt his breath on your ear, his body steadying yours, his arms pushing you upright as he whispered, “You’re not dying today. Stay with me.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like you could believe him.

Your vision was still swimming, the world spinning as you barely managed to keep your head upright. He wasn’t giving you time to question it. He was keeping you alive. As much as you wanted to lift your weight, you couldn’t whatsoever.

Not short after, your vision dotted with black and the last thing you remember was your body once again hitting the floor.

[leaf-galaxy-art]

♪♪♪ We're Helen's Hell Hags~! ♪♪♪

[sketchy-toasters]

Spooky Month Ride The Cyclone au-

I lack any and all self control

[horseshoe-bay-ledger]

NANCY DREW || 4x10: The Ballad of Lives Foregone

"That was the right sin."

[geodethecrow]

kicking my legs twirling my hair going absolutely feral about the Bluecoats' show this year

there is genuinely no describing how happy this makes me I love this show. "Change Is Everything"? uh yeah it sure changed my life those sounds were magical especially the fucking trombone solo aaaaaaaaaahhh I love that song too

[slime-enby]

sometimes you sing a song about your mom and your sister going to a carnival thats a metaphor for committing suicide, but also your mom and your sister are metaphors for two past versions of yourself that you've lost all memory of but still haunt your brain

[mightydyke]

In the Ballad of Lost Hollow there are so many tragic romances and people separated from their loved ones. In the fake backstories Lupe sacrifices herself for Hank, Henry's boyfriend leaves him, Helen is separated from her mother and sister who join the carnival. Also the nature of the cabaret is that they're separated from everyone else. Shira and Helen are actually separated as well. Raven and Lloyd are separated, Mary lost her husband and children. And in this narrative that is so hostile to lovers (both the narrative narrative and the overall narrative of Lost Hollow) Helen and Han still fall in love. But it's so short lived. They fall victim to the same fate as all the over lovers. They never even got to have a relationship before Helen sacrificed herself

[antinousletmehit]

Apollo and his lover got into an argument which he regrets deeply but reader is very mad at him and won't forgive him easily.The whole Olympus tries to get them together because they're fed up with Apollo's sad love poets and songs.

୨୧┇Apollo x reader

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

The great halls of Olympus were rarely silent. Gods bickered, muses sang, and the sound of nectar filled goblets clinking together echoed endlessly. But this particular week had been… different. It wasn’t the usual chorus of divine rivalry that filled the air. Instead, a melancholic voice, rich and golden, reverberated through the celestial mount, dragging everyone down with its relentless woe.

Apollo was heartbroken.

He sat on the steps of his golden temple, his lyre in hand, his head bowed as he sang yet another mournful ballad about his lover. She had refused to speak to him after a bitter argument, one involving—according to Hermes, who’d gleefully eavesdropped—a misunderstanding about Apollo’s ego and her need for space.

“I burn brighter than the sun itself,

But her light I cannot see.

Oh, cruel fates, to steal her love,

And leave her silence haunting me…”

“By the Styx, someone make him stop!” Hera groaned, massaging her temples as Apollo’s lament drifted into the great hall. “He’s been singing that same verse for three days straight.”

“And it’s getting worse,” Ares grumbled, leaning against his spear. “I’m this close to starting a war just to drown him out.”

Hestia, ever the voice of reason, frowned. “We can’t let him continue like this. He’s hurting.”

“And we’re suffering,” Poseidon interrupted, shaking his trident for emphasis. “Even my sea nymphs are complaining about hearing his sobs through the waves. My ocean, for gods’ sake.”

“Alright, everyone,” Athena said, standing up and raising a hand to silence the growing complaints. “Apollo’s our brother. He needs help. Instead of whining, let’s figure out how to fix this.”

“Fix it?” Hermes snorted, lounging on the armrest of her throne. “Good luck. The only thing that will shut him up is making up with his lover, and she won’t even look at him.”

Zeus, seated at the head of the hall, finally spoke. “Then we’ll have to make her listen.”

All eyes turned to him, surprise flickering across their faces. It wasn’t often that the King of the Gods intervened in romantic squabbles, but it was clear that even Zeus couldn’t endure another hour of Apollo’s sob songs.

“Who agrees?” Zeus asked, raising a commanding brow. One by one, every god and goddess in the room nodded. For once in their immortal lives, Olympus was united.

———-

The plan was set into motion that very evening. Each god took on a task, pooling their talents to create an elaborate display of apology that Apollo could deliver to his lover.

Aphrodite crafted a wreath of the finest roses, their petals shimmering like rubies under the starlight. “No mortal or immortal can resist the charm of my flowers,” she said smugly, twirling one between her fingers. Hephaestus forged a delicate necklace of golden threads, inlaid with tiny opals that shimmered with every color of the sky. Hermes wrote a letter, overflowing with poetic charm, and tucked it into a golden envelope. “This will sweep her off her feet,” he said, grinning. “No offense to Apollo, but I’ve got more flair for words.”

Even Dionysus contributed, brewing a wine so sweet and rich that a single sip could soothe the angriest heart. “Pair it with the necklace, and she’ll be wrapped around his finger,” he joked, handing the flask to Hera. Meanwhile, Athena and Artemis tried to coax Apollo into proper behavior. Artemis, his twin sister, stood before him with her arms crossed. “You’re embarrassing yourself,” she said bluntly. “If you want her back, stop singing about how miserable you are and do something about it.”

Apollo looked up from his lyre, his face streaked with golden tears. “But what if she doesn’t forgive me? What if I’ve lost her forever?” Athena placed a hand on his shoulder. “She loves you, Apollo. That doesn’t vanish overnight. But love requires effort, not just poetry. Show her you’re willing.”

For the first time in days, Apollo nodded, determination flickering in his sun bright eyes.

The following day, Apollo, armed with the gifts and a newfound resolve, approached his lover’s dwelling. The other gods watched from afar, peering through enchanted pools and reflective clouds, each silently praying their efforts would end the wailing. Apollo took a deep breath and knocked on the door. When she opened it, her expression was guarded, her gaze flicking to the bouquet, the necklace, and the letter clutched in his trembling hands.

“What do you want, Apollo?” she asked, her voice cool.

“I want to say I’m sorry,” he began, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “I let my pride get in the way, and I hurt you. I’ve spent days singing about how much I miss you, but Athena reminded me that words mean nothing without action. So I’m here.”

She studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. Back in the halls of Olympus, the gods watched as Apollo disappeared inside her home.

“Do you think it worked?” Hermes asked.

Artemis smirked, her arms crossed. “If it didn’t, he’ll be back here wailing in an hour.”

But the hour passed, and there was no wailing. Then another hour. And another.

At last, Zeus leaned back in his throne, a satisfied grin on his face. “Finally.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, peace returned to Olympus. And while they’d never admit it, the gods secretly congratulated themselves on the success of their rare, united effort.

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Ballad of Lost Souls

Eric Draven (2024) X f!reader

Summary: what happens when two lost souls find each other? Cling to each other? Love could be a very dangerous drug indeed. You and Eric meet during rehab.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, brief handjob, hair pulling, choking, size difference, size kink if you squint, bit of inexperienced!reader, Eric is actually a sweetheart, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of substance abuse, addiction, mentions of suicidal thoughts, this movie is dark what do you want me to say

Reader has tattoos, but has no further specifications, y’all get to be tattooed girlies today, you’re welcome

WC: 5.7K I’m sorry

Inspo creds @kingkat12, she also posted an Eric fic with the same concept and some of the elements of this story like some of the dialogue bits were inspired after reading hers. Please give her some love! She’s a great writer

A/N: NOBODY LOOK AT ME. idc, I love Eric okay, stfu. I just had to write him. He just needs love man. That’s all. I want to give him love. So here you go. I might make a part two if there’s enough interest. When I tell you the Eric fic supply is LOW, I’ve never seen one so LACKING. So I just had to yk? Enjoy and don’t cancel me alright.

You didn’t often dwell on the past. You had a live in the moment kind of mindset. You didn’t know where you’d be tomorrow so you made the best of the moment. But sometimes, you wondered just where your bad decisions were taking you. You didn’t mean to end up here, in this awful bubblegum pink sweater and sweatpants, surrounded by people who didn’t care why you were here, or if you got better or not. The disappointed words of your mother played in your head, and the angry words of your father hammered in the back of your head. You were a fucking disappointment, and that’s why you were here. 

You thought about ending it. This mess your life had become. It wouldn’t be too hard to find a razor around here if you truly tried. Who would miss you anyway? What even was the point of it all? By day two you couldn’t take this shit anymore. And then you saw him in the yard. You were almost entranced by him. He was so tall, he towered over everyone he walked past, you couldn’t imagine how ridiculous you would look standing next to him. You could see his ink cover his hands and fingers, and you wondered just how far the ink traveled. You were intrigued by him, he was quiet, morbidly so, he didn’t say a word to anyone, no matter how much they pressed or tossed him around, he just stared. Whether it was the doctors, the counselors, the guards. He always chose silence. And he always had this look of defiance, of apathy, he took everything with a locked jaw and deadpan eyes. And that intrigued you.

Should you try to entertain anyone in this facility, let alone the loner covered in tattoos? No, absolutely not. But lord, something about him drew you in. 

You caught glimpses of him for a few days, in the cafeteria when you walked past him to your table, maybe he thought you didn’t notice, but you caught him turning his head to watch you walk by. One time, your eyes met, they were a pretty shade of green. It was brief though, as soon as he realized you caught him, his eyes were in front of his plate, but not before you managed to flash him a tiny smile. Welcoming, playful. 

Eric remembered that. 

The next time you saw him was out in the yard. They encouraged exercise in this place, for some dumb reason. The most people did around here was stand in a corner, feeling completely miserable under the scorching sun. But much to your surprise, after some time walking around the yard you found Eric, lingering by the gym equipment. It wasn’t much, just a pull up bar and that was barely tall enough to accommodate him. No weights, of course, because someone could hurt themselves, or someone else with them. It wasn’t much, but you couldn’t help but watch as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, revealing even more tattoos going up both of his arms. You stood in a corner like a fucking weirdo, watching as he did pull up’s, as best as he could having to bend his long legs to accommodate the short bar. Why were you just staring at this man you’ve never even spoken to? Of that you had no clue. But you couldn’t take your eyes away. He had his back to you, but even under the material of his white t-shirt you could see the muscles in his shoulders tense, his arms flexing with each pull. And you could only I magine the true sight of him. Sweat dripping down his forehead, lips pulled between his teeth as he did each pull. God, you felt like such a pervert. You shouldn’t be eye fucking him like this, but you couldn’t help it, something about him twisted the most secluded corners of your mind.

Ultimately your trance was cut short, since it didn’t take long for a group of guys to take interest in whatever Eric was doing and went straight to push him around some more. You frowned, almost upset by the sight of him getting tossed around and hazed like this. You couldn’t hear what was happening, but Eric had his head down, chest heavy as he clenched his fists at his sides, but he otherwise did nothing. You didn’t care, any fucks you still had to give were gone the moment your parents and your ex-boyfriend conspired to send you here. You were about to walk over there, not caring about what weird opposite sex rules this place had. But when you started walking, Eric did too, getting shoulder checked as he pushed his way past the group of guys. You felt awful, you wanted to say something to him, but you were frozen when he walked past you, his green eyes shooting a quick glance at you, a bit of curiosity laced in them. But you were more focused on how his shirt was clinging to his sweaty chest. And just like that he was gone.

The next time you saw him was during a group meeting that afternoon. You were almost disappointed at first when he didn’t show. You sulked into your seat for the first minute or two, upset you wouldn’t get to see him today again. And then you saw him. His expression as apathetic as ever, like he would rather get beat up than sit through this bullshit. His hair was soaking wet, small droplets of water still falling from the tips of his raven hair. Great, now the image of him in the shower was ingrained into your brain. As if you didn’t feel filthy enough.

You bit your lip softly, sitting up as he sat across from you, his expression blank with disinterest as his tattooed fingers played with the hem of his pink sweater. You weren’t paying attention either, you were more entertained by the way his long legs spread open as he slouched on his chair, taking as much space as possible. You thought about how nice it would be to sit on his lap. You glanced at his hands, they were huge. How easily he could grab a hold of your ass, or hold you still by your neck. How his long fingers would feel so deep inside you. You thought about how easily he was doing those pull ups, and you thought just how easily he could hold you down, throw you around to as he pleased with you. Truly, you would happily let him use you. You could feel heat rush to your face as you crossed your legs, trying your best to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. Why were you lusting so hard over him? You didn’t even know his name. 

Almost as if he could hear your pounding heart, Eric looked up to find your eyes lingering on him, one leg crossed over the other tightly. He tilted his head with curiosity, and his fingers twitched around his sweatshirt as your eyes met. He didn’t feel like looking away this time. The longer his hooded eyes were on you, the more nervous you became. You could feel your breath hitch in your chest as his eyes burned you. You only looked away when the counselor said your name, followed by stares. 

Shit, were you supposed to say something? 

You opened your mouth, immediately closing it as you had nothing to say. You didn’t even hear the question. You pursed your lips and shook your head lightly. The counselor sighed softly and looked to the girl beside you instead. It was common for most people here to refrain from speaking so he didn’t think too much about it. But when your eyes found Eric again, there was a small hint of amusement in his eyes, a ghost of a grin tugging at his plush lips. For the first time since you’ve been here, you saw something other than disinterest on his face. 

Perhaps he was just as drawn to you as you were to him. 

~~~

You pulled your lips into a disappointed pout as you searched around the cafeteria for his black mullet, not being able to find him. And here you thought today would be the day you finally spoke to him. You were about to sit at the nearest empty table when you found him. Even sitting down he stood out. You smiled to yourself, your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation. You looked around for guards, none were paying particular attention to you so you did it. 

He lifted his head slightly to glance at you, a quick second before his eyes were back on his plate. You saw the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. You smiled to yourself.

“I like your ink.” Were the first words out of your mouth. You said them in one breath, afraid he would get up and leave. His eyes lifted from his hands to meet yours, his eyes then fell to your own hands, one of them covered in distinct patterns and colors from your wrist up to your fingers. He wondered what else you were hiding under your sweater, like him.

“Hm.” He gave you a small nod, his plush lips pulled between his teeth in a way that had you clenching your thighs. “I like yours.” 

You smiled, the first genuine one since you’ve gotten here.

“I have more.” You whispered, leaning close to him, like it was some secret only for his ears to hear. His eyes flickered with amusement and he gave you another hum, his eyes now looking everywhere they could in hope of finding said secrets. 

“Me too.” His lips curved up the slightest bit as he lifted one of his sleeves up enough to reveal more tattoos going up his arm. Your eyes lit up as you excitedly leaned down closer with the excuse of getting a closer look. Your proximity was certainly way too close for this facility.

Leaning impossibly close to him without actually touching him, you looked up at him and with a playful smile you pulled down the collar of your sweatshirt to reveal more designs along your collarbone, the rest of the design hidden by your sweater as the colors continued down your shoulder. 

“But don’t tell anyone.” You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to hide your smile. He gave you what sounded like a chuckle and he shrugged.

“Who would I tell?” Though his face remained expressionless, his eyes had a glint that mimicked your eagerness, he welcomed your proximity. “Here he comes.”

You were confused by his words and you opened your mouth to question him as he sat back, his head lifting in the direction behind your head. 

“Males and females can’t sit together!” One of the guards, one you had noticed had a particular thing with Eric shouted, roughly grabbing the back of his chair to force him up on his feet.

“Huh? Wait, why are you taking him?” You talked back to the guard. “Hey, he didn’t do anything! I was the one that sat here. I—I’ll move. Don’t be such an asshole! Leave him alone!” You tried to help, even going as far as standing up but the guard was already taking the new owner of all of your attention away. Your heart sank as you watched the guard shout at him as he dragged him away.

He had managed to turn his head back for a second, and when your eyes met, he half smiled at you. He was almost proud of the fact that you tried to stand up for him. “I’m Eric!”

You smiled. 

~~~~~~

“Found you.” You skipped into Eric’s room, finally seeing his door open.

You hadn’t seen him since you got him in trouble at their cafeteria the day before. You got in some trouble too. You had a one on one meeting with a counselor about your choice of words and your “temper” but it was nothing more than just a slap on the wrist. Truly, you felt worse about getting Eric in trouble more than anything. You didn’t mean to, you just wanted to talk to him. He must have gotten punished because you didn’t see him during gym hour. You leaned against the doorframe as he turned around to find you. Curiosity filled his otherwise empty eyes, and a glint of amusement replaced the usual apathy in his gaze.

“I never left.” He answered with a shrug as he shuffled through the mess that was made of his artwork. Sketch papers were scattered all over his room, torn off the walls. Perhaps after getting in trouble during lunch they used that as an excuse to go through his room. 

“I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.” You expressed with genuine regret, shooting back a glance to the hallway before inviting yourself into his room. Much to the protest of the rational voice in your mind. You looked at the floor as you almost stepped on a piece of paper, you happily picked it up, admiring the black charcoal coating the page before you set it on his bed.

“Is that why you’re here? To apologize?” Eric asked almost cynically as he glanced over at you, not moving from where he stood.

“Well yeah. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” You said sheepishly, a bit intimidated under his intense gaze. There was always a look of defiance in his green eyes, determination even. He gave you a sarcastic hum, which made you roll your eyes.

“Why did you yell at the guard? You got in trouble too, didn’t you?” He asked lowly, his head slightly tilted as he searched for that little thing you did around him, when you clenched your hands at your sides, or your thighs on your seat. His eyes irked with amusement when your fingers twitched at your sides and your lips parted open.

“‘Cause… You didn’t do anything wrong. You never do anything, or say anything. And everyone around here always pushes you around. It’s fucked up.” You answered quietly, daring to meet his eyes. He pulled his lips into a small pout and nodded slowly. His silence was always so nerve wracking to you.

“Yeah, so?”

You scrunched up your face, sighing heavily at his questioning. What did he what you to say? You didn’t know why you cared. You shrugged, picking up another piece of paper by your feet. You half glanced at it as you spoke.

“I dunno.. I just.. Oh my—” You cut yourself off as you gave the drawing in your hand a proper look. You narrowed your eyes, giving the drawing a closer look, and your jaw fell open. It looked like you, your hair falling over your face, dark scribbles covering your body symbolizing the unknown designs on your body, the only intelligible one being the patterns on your collarbone, the same one you had shown Eric. But what truly caught your eye was that you were in fact, completely nude. Truly, his imagination surprised you, he had imagined every curve of your body well, despite not having seen any part of it.

Based on your flustered expression, Eric could only assume which drawing you had picked up. He swallowed, his cheeks flushing pink being caught red handed. But he didn’t look apologetic, at all.

“This what you do in your spare time? Draw naked girls?” You asked with big eyes, the still working rational part of your mind screaming alarms, but a part of you also filled with excitement at his perverted mind. Almost as if you were on his mind as much as he was on yours.

He shook his head. “Just one.” He answered with a shrug, a challenging look in his eyes. 

Either you walked out right then and there, and that would be that, or you would go all in. He was trying to figure out which one it would be.

“You are very talented, this is—” You dragged your tongue over your lip as you walked closer to him, catching glances at his other artwork. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached him, his gaze making you shudder. He said nothing as you stooped in front of him, now having to tilt his head down to meet your gaze. God this man was so goddamn tall. “You could totally sell this for some money.”

“But,” you continued, swallowing hard as you looked up at him, and the way his green eyes looked at you made your mind all fuzzy. God, you haven't felt this euphoric since you got here. This rush of adrenaline made you dizzy, but you pushed through it. “I see one flaw in your creativity.”

“Oh?” He bit down on his plush lip, head tilted with curiosity. You hummed and nodded, daring to bring your fingers up his chest. His breath hitched in his chest, but he said nothing.

“I fear you don’t have the full picture. My tattoos are more than just a scribble of ink.” You stated matter of factly, making him breathe out a small laugh.

“Sorry. I work with what I have.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to ignore the feeling of your hands itching up his chest.

“Maybe I should give you more to work with?” Your hands found the back of his neck and you instinctively stood on the ends of your toes, itching to get closer to him.

Eric glanced down at you, his eyes lingering on your own for a split second before glancing at your parted lips, soft breaths escaping you as you anxiously waited. He didn’t have to think about it, he didn’t want to. His mouth was on yours so hard you whined. His large hand found your hair, tilting your head back to meet your lips better. 

You weren’t sure when you ended up against the nearest wall, your legs wrapped around Eric’s slim waist as he held you up. You were right, he could hold you up like you were nothing. Truly, the oversized clothes you were forced to wear didn’t do him any justice. You wondered what he was hiding under his sweatshirt.

His lips were messy on yours, his heavy breaths joining your soft whimpers. You were so caught up in the delicious feeling of his mouth claiming yours and his hands touching everywhere he could, you didn’t hear the loud voices of guards calling your name and patient number. Reality dawned on you when you heard shouting down the hall for everyone to get out of their rooms. You patted Eric’s shoulder, forcing your lips away from his. 

“Eric—Eric.” You said his name with urgency, making him look at you, eyes filled with greed as he chased your lips. “I have to go. I don’t want to get you in trouble again.” 

He nodded after a second, setting you down on your feet after pressing one last kiss to your lips. You had a stupid smile on your face as you successfully sneaked out his room, the guards being distracted as they probably ransacked some poor bastard's room like they had done Eric’s. You glanced behind you as you hurried down the hall, catching a glimpse of Eric peeking his head through his door. He smiled. And it made your heart race.

You could not wait to see him again.

~~~~~~

“Eric!—” You slapped your hand over your mouth, attempting to quiet the desperate sounds leaving your mouth. But the way his tongue lapped at your sensitive clit and his long fingers rubbed against that one spot within your walls that had you squirming.

You didn’t mean to end up in this position, ass naked on top of one of the washing machines in the laundry room, with Eric on his knees and his face between your thighs. Truly you didn’t, you knew you would be in a lot of fucking trouble if you got caught. But the way his lips claimed yours, his tongue lacing with yours, his large hands grabbing at every part of your body like he didn’t know which one he craved to touch more. He just wanted you so fucking bad, your kisses and little rubbing here and there for the past few days wasn’t enough for him, or for you.

“I wanted to taste you so fucking bad.” He muttered against your clit, a groan rumbling in his throat when you pulled at the hairs on the back of his head, inadvertently holding his face closer against you. Not that he minded, he would stay here, with his fingers scissoring you open until you dripped on the surface underneath you. 

“Please—fuck. That feels so good.” You didn’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good. Not that you had much experience in this area, but this sure felt right.

Eric wrapped his free hand under your thigh, pulling you to the edge, closer to his mouth. He lapped at your pussy like he needed it, like it was the air in his lungs. The sounds leaving his mouth as your juices seeped around his fingers were almost as filthy as yours. 

You felt like such a slut, chasing his mouth with your hips, heaving like a bitch in heat, and quietly begging him to grant you your release, as quiet as you could be with his fingers so deep and his tongue drawing delicious circles around your clit. 

“Just like that baby… Just like that.” Eric mumbled, his fingers slipping and crooking against that perfect spot. 

Your release was so sudden, and it hit you so hard you were shaking, sobbing violently into your hand. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of your head. Eric dug his fingers into your thigh, his tongue slipping into your hole when his fingers left you. 

“Shit—Eric—” You gasped, your thighs shaking as you weakly reached to grab his face. 

With a grunt he peeled himself from the warmth of your thighs, he stood to his full height before leaning down to capture your lips. The taste of yourself lingering on his tongue made you moan. Disoriented, you reached down to rub where his cock was straining against his sweatpants. He groaned into your mouth, his large hand flew to catch your wrist.

“It’s okay.” He gave your lips a soft kiss as he pulled your hand away. You gave him an adorable frown, your mind still spinning from your orgasm. 

“But you—” He pressed another kiss to your lips, shutting you up. He moved his lips to your neck, latching on to that one spot that had you whining. Neither of you cared if everyone saw the mark he left. 

“We’ll have time for that.” He mumbled against your skin. The way he slurred the words made your breath hitch. “Right?”

He pulled back to meet your eyes, blinking slowly as he waited for your response. You licked your lips softly, breath soft as you thought, how could he still question it. You were past the lusting. This was something else. You needed more of him, and it wasn't just sex you were craving. You wanted every part of him, even the parts of himself he didn’t want.

“Of course.. This isn’t.. Can’t you tell? What you do to me. I’ve never..” You couldn’t even form the right words, your mind still fuzzy with all these feelings you had no name for. You didn’t need to explain. Whatever it was, Eric felt the same. And he smiled, he genuinely smiled. And what a pretty sight that was.

“We should go.” He pressed his lips to the side of your head, smoothing down your hair and fixing your sweater. “Can you stand?”

You half nodded, gasping when he set you down on your feet and you instantly leaned on him for support. The sly smile on his face made you want to slap him. But deep down, you wanted to smile too.

~~~~~

The next time you saw Eric, he was walking down the hallway, his tall frame towering over the majority of people he walked past. He wasn’t hard to find. You bit your lip, unable to contain your excitement as you hurried after him. Your fingers brushed his, and almost as if he knew your touch by heart, he wasn’t startled, he didn’t flinch either. When he turned his head, his eyes grew big at the sight of you, the corners of his lips curving into a tiny smile. You flashed him a whole smile, unapologetic about how happy it made you to see him. Your obsession with him over the past two weeks wasn’t something you could explain, you knew it probably wasn’t healthy. But when were you ever known for having healthy coping mechanisms? You found something that filled you and you clung to it.

“Where are you going?” You asked him quietly as you walked beside him. He walked slower, but didn’t look at you much, as not to bring unwanted attention to yourselves.

“Laundry room.” He said quietly, his eyes dropping to meet yours. And you shared that knowing and malicious look. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips. This time of day usually meant you could sneak off for a little while since most patients were having their once a week visitor, or phone call, which meant less guards were in every corner.

“I’m supposed to be out in two weeks.” You told Eric in between kisses, his lips trailed your jaw as his hands grabbed at your ass. 

“I’m out in four.” He answered as he pressed you against the nearest wall. He grabbed your face between his large hands, pulling you to meet his eager mouth. You whined, fists clenched around the front of his sweatshirt. You couldn’t go two weeks without seeing him, you would go fucking mad.

“I don’t want to wait a month to be with you.” You breathed out, your chest heavy as the words left your mouth. “I’m supposed to go back to my parents when I get out. They agreed to take me in to follow my treatment, but I don’t want to go. They’re the ones that put me here.” 

“I don’t have anywhere to go.” You barely heard him as he spoke, almost as if the words pained him, broke something deep inside him. It broke something in you, too.

“You can come with me. I have a little place and some money saved. It’s not much but.. If you want.. We could.. We could try something for real?” You trailed off, afraid he would reject you. It was one thing to mess around in here, where neither of you had anything else, anyone else to cling to, but this being anything other than a desperate bond by two lost souls was a different story. Outside of these walls, he could find anyone else, he didn’t have to keep the broken girl he fingered in a shitty laundry room.

“I would like that. I would like something real, with you.” His words were soft, as were his hands holding your face as he pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed out a laugh of relief. “Fuck this place. We’ll do it tomorrow, during shift change. There’s a vent up here that leads to the yard.”

You pulled him down by his sweatshirt, your lips crashing against his. He laced his fingers in your hair as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You welcomed it, lips parting as you locked your arms around his neck. 

“Eric.” You said his name softly in a quiet plea. He opened his eyes to find your desperate gaze. He told himself he wanted to be better, he knew you deserved better, but when you said his name like that, when you looked at him like that. He was no better. “I don’t think I can wait anymore. Please, I… I need…”

“Need what?” His words were coated with arousal, he knew fucking well what you meant. But he wanted to hear you say it.

“Fuck—” You kissed his lips roughly, any sanity and restraint you might’ve once had, completely. You can’t trust an addict to have good self-control, now could you? “Take me. I’m yours, just take me.”

“Fuck.” Now it was his turn to lose his sanity. He gave your lips one last kiss as he squeezed your cheeks between his fingers, licking your lips before he spun you around to face the wall. “You’re a sweet girl, don’t forget that. I swear I will fuck you properly on a bed, with flowers and shit.” 

His words were rough in your ear as he pressed his lips to your jaw, his hands making quick work of pulling down your sweatpants and panties. They pooled around your ankles as he kicked your legs open as far as they went.

“I like carnations.” You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed cunt. You heard him chuckle beside your ear.

“Those are pretty. They’re pretty like you.” He hummed as he brought two fingers up to your lips. You happily took them in your mouth. Eric almost moaned at the sight. One of these days he needed to have you sucking his cock. One of these days. 

Eric pulled his fingers from your lips and with a kiss to the back of your head, he sunk his coated fingers into your hole. Your mouth fell open, your forehead falling against the wall. You were instantly chasing his fingers, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you happily rode them. You didn’t know how he did it, how he could have you dripping around his fingers in a matter of a minute or two. You were clawing at the wall, silent moans spilling from you when he pulled his fingers from you. He watched almost proudly as your slick coated your thighs. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked quietly, tugging at the hem of your sweater. You made a humming sound, as best as you could. As if he needed to ask. Eric was happy to rid you of your sweater, more happy to find more hidden tattoos going all over both of your arms. He craved to find every single one of your tattoos, and kiss every one. But he knew it would be best to be quick.

His own sweatshirt met the same fate, and with a kiss to your cheek, he grabbed one of your hips as he pulled down his sweats enough to free his cock. A groan left his lips as he dragged his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. You gasped, not being able to see him, but already knowing he was big. 

“Let me know if it hurts, hm? I’ll take it easy, I promise.” He pressed his lips to your jaw, inhaling your sweet scent as he slowly sank himself into you. Only his tip was in and you could already feel the sting of his cock stretching you wide open.

“Fuck. Fuck, oh my god—” You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers clenching around nothing as he slowly filled your further, inch by inch.

“It’s okay. You want me to stop?” He asked, shushing you softly as he sat still, allowing you to adjust to the burning feeling of his size. Fuck, you should have known someone as tall as him would be this big. Somehow, it didn’t occur to you.

“No. ‘m okay. Keep going.” You reached behind you to touch him, your fingers gracing over the side of his face. He nodded into your neck, one of his hands sneaking to the front of you to play with your clit to ease you as he sank into you until his hips rutted against your ass. He sat still, speaking filthy words into your ear until you were whimpering, needing to feel more. “Eric, please.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. His pace was slow at first, slow strokes that allowed you to revel in the feeling of his cock in and out of your walls. But as you both began to grow desperate, pathetic sounds leaving your lips and groans of pleasure leaving him, his pace picked up. It was grueling, how he fucked you against that wall. You braced yourself with one hand, the other holding his face behind you as he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.

“Fuck, I have been dreaming about this since I saw you. You always looked so pretty when you looked at me.” He whispered in your ear, his hand wrapping around your hair as he forced your head back, exposing your neck. You cried out, his roughness making you clench around him. He cursed, covering your mouth with his large hand. “I need you to keep it down for me, baby. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?” 

You shook your head, doing your best to contain the sounds he was pulling from you. His hand slowly left your mouth, trusting you could keep your sounds to a minimum. You bit down on your lip, eyes squeezed shut as his cock split you open. You swore you had never been this utterly fucked out, so cock drunk before. You had never needed anyone so badly. You had never felt so strongly about anyone. You had always found something to cling to, pain, tattoos, in your more miserable and recent years—drugs, and now him. But him? This feeling he gave you, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. You wanted to hold on to him until your final breath of air left your lungs.

“I wanted this—you—so fucking bad. I needed to have you.” Eric grunted, lips latching on to that spot on your neck where the previous hickey he had left was starting to fade. “I’m so crazy about you, no amount of rehab could fix me.” 

You moaned at his words, letting them sink in. He was down so bad for you, probably as much as you were. Two addicts, seeking refuge in each other, craving this adrenaline, it was a kick you had never felt before. It was a kick only lust and passion could bring. And he ignited that deep within your soul. 

“Me too.” You panted, lips parting in ecstasy as one of his tattooed hands loosely wrapped around your throat. Fuck, the way his whole hand covered your entire neck made you gush all over his cock. “I’ve never wanted anyone this bad. You—ah!—I need you all the fucking time.”

“Then you can have me,” His fingers squeezed your throat tighter, his thick cock so deep you swore you could feel him in your fucking cervix. “All the fucking time. Forever.” 

Tears filled your ears as you could feel your release near, your thighs shuddering as you felt your legs start to give out. Eric was quick to press you further against the wall, his back flush against your chest, sweaty forehead pressed against your cheek as his cock rutted against you, over and over, until you were chanting a string of uh-uh-uh’s, your mind too overcome with the pleasure he was giving you to even speak. 

“I want you to come on my cock so fucking bad. I need it.” Groans fell freely from his chest as he once again slipped a hand to your swollen clit. The pressure of his rough fingers made you gasp, your throat closing under his grip. Your release hit you so hard you were sobbing, though mostly muffled by his tight grip. Tears fell down your cheek as your orgasm left you a shaking mess. You had never felt this way before—so overcome with pleasure you cried.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. Good girl.” The hand on your throat left to wipe at your tears, soothing you as you came crashing down. 

Eric fucked you through your release, frantically chasing his own. His name left your lips with praise, sobs of your remnant pleasure as he pushed you to the point of overstimulation. But it wasn’t until he felt his own release near that he pulled out of you. Without saying a word, he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his thick cock, his own hand guiding yours up and down his slick length, sweet praises leaving his lips until he was spilling himself. 

Heavy breaths and pants of exhaustion filled the small laundry room, the air smelled like sex, and the remnants of your forbidden times were left as evidence. Eric eventually spun you around to face him, a soft smile on his lips. You had only ever seen it once, after he ate you out days ago. It was rare to see Eric smile, but you made it a vow to yourself that you would always make him smile like this.

“How fucked up are we? Finding comfort in each other like this. Did it ever cross your mind?” You said softly as Eric helped you dress. He was bending down to grab your sweater and he stood up to his full height, towering over you, and his eyes were laced with an indescribable feeling.

“When I first saw you, I didn’t know what it was, but I was so drawn to you, I looked for you everyday, and I thought I would go mad if I didn’t have you. And right now, I can tell you it’s not just lust. I’m entranced by you, I need you all the time. And if there’s one thing I learned from this fucking place is that you have to latch on to something, otherwise you’ll drown.” 

You were speechless, nothing but your soft breaths could be heard. A smile fell on your lips and you leaned into his chest. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, he’d be damn if he ever let you go anywhere but here.

“Addicts will be addicts, no matter how much they try to fix us. But it’s not always to drugs we’re addicted to.” You sighed softly, closing your eyes as you sank into the feeling of his arms. “This feeling? I never want it to stop.”

“It doesn’t have to.” He mumbled into your hair, in his head reminding himself of your limited time, but he refused to let you go just yet. “Forever, right?”

“Yeah, forever.”

[too-much-fandoms-trash]

Thinking about how Snow tried to totally erase Lucy Gray from the world and still somehow failed.

Throughout all of SotR we see pieces of her, even if basically in 12 no one remembers her name, they all remember her music.

"The Hanging Tree", the forbidden song, played by Lenore Dove on the stage in protest. Not a song only Katniss' dad remembers (as Katniss seems to believes), but a song which a whole crowd sang with Lenore Dove. Her writing it in paint on the wall, "NO CAPITOL, NO HANGING TREE!" as a slogan of the revolution. And of course, the anthemn it later became.

"Nothing they can take (from me was ever worth keeping)", Lucy Gray's song on her reaping, and though the melody got lost, Maysilee's grandmother, a town girl nonetheless, remembered her words and used them to comfort her granddaughter.

"The Ballad of Lucy Gray", the song she performed during her interview. When Snow broadcasts the last two verses on the TV in the appartment in which Haymitch is locked up, he recognises it. The words got lost, but the melody remained.

At the mass funeral, Burdock sings "The Old Therebefore". Granted, if I remember well Lucy Gray didn't invent it, but I'm pretty sure that her performance with the snakes during her game marked people's spirits, and it definitely kept the song alive.

Music is a very important theme throughout all of the books, for many characters. Lucy Gray may not have survived, but some parts of her became immortal. Her words and her tunes lived on.

[cutehoons02]

Fuck, i think i love you

*pairing: popular bad boy Niki x popular good Girl

*trope: Childhood Frenemies

*synopsis: You and Niki were raised together always in harmony with the love of your mothers as well as best friends but they did not know that you hated each other to death. Niki was the opposite of you and always made you angry and teased you instead in the eyes of Niki you were too perfect because you emanated that aura as a good girl but you know, from hatred can arise other feelings...

*tags: Lots of tension, fluffy, love to tease each other, fake hate because they like each other, jealousy, possession, manipulation, loss of virginity by the female protagonist, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) kisses, pacifiers, masturbation, fingering (f. receives) pet names (princess, good girl) statement?

6.9k (🤍)

(English is not my native language)

You and Niki have never been able to stand each other. You were the typical good girl: studious, a lover of books, and a fan of quiet Netflix nights, or you’d go out with your close friends to some fancy spot for a drink. He was the classic bad boy: popular, always surrounded by friends, dyeing his hair to be “alternative,” and getting that eyebrow piercing to boost his bad boy vibes even more, with an intense passion for basketball and parties. Two opposites destined never to meet… or at least, that’s what you both thought.

Too bad your mothers have been best friends forever. This meant birthdays, holidays, and ceremonies spent together, forcing you to tolerate each other since you were little. But as you both grew up, something changed.

You watched Niki become increasingly handsome, taller, and incredibly popular. And even though you kept denying it, you couldn’t help but notice. On the other hand, Niki couldn’t ignore the fact that, beneath that innocent exterior, you intrigued him in a way no other girl ever had. You didn’t give him the time of day, treated him with indifference, yet... he couldn’t stop thinking about what lay beneath that perfect facade.

You and Niki lived next door to each other, with a large tree standing between your rooms as the only boundary. From Niki’s room, the sounds of underground music constantly echoed, with deep bass and scratchy guitars, while from your room, pop songs and love ballads, like those of Taylor Swift, reverberated. Two completely different worlds, yet always so close.

That evening, you were busy trying on dozens of outfits, speaking loudly on the phone with your best friend, and squealing with excitement. Niki, lying on his bed with his headphones on, let out an exasperated sigh. Usually, he was the noisy one, disturbing the neighborhood’s peace with his music, but this time, you were the source of the chaos. Intrigued, he got up and leaned out of the window to peek into your room.

He saw you wearing a skirt and a tight sweater from some expensive brand that clung perfectly to your body. The skirt was too short for his taste, definitely not something suited for the "good girl" he knew. Your wavy hair cascaded softly over your shoulders, reflecting the warm light of the room. Even from a distance, he could imagine their sweet scent, probably of honey and vanilla, which tormented him every time you walked by. For some reason, that detail bothered him. Where the hell did you think you were going dressed like that?

With a mischievous grin, he picked up a small stone from one of the many piles scattered around his room. Throwing it at your window, he managed to grab your attention. You spun around in surprise, and when your eyes met, Niki lost his confidence for a moment. You were beautiful. You had never been so attractive in his eyes, and it annoyed him.

Not wanting to appear flustered, he quickly regained his composure and gave you a teasing whistle, instantly returning to his usual bold and playful self.

“Where do you think you’re going dressed like that, princess?”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “What do you care, Nishimura? Weren’t you the one who said you couldn’t care less about my business?”

He smiled, leaning casually against the window sill. “True, but when I see you dressed like that, I start to wonder if you want me to care.”

You blushed slightly, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you embarrassed. "I repeat, it’s none of your business."

Niki’s smirk widened. "It is. Our parents are away, and you're younger than me. They left me 'in charge,' or at least that's what your mom said."

You pressed your lips together, irritated. "By one month, Niki."

"Still younger." His voice was light, almost amused, but his dark eyes were still fixed on you.

You turned your gaze away, suddenly feeling a bit strange. It was rare for you to be the one who felt embarrassed; you were usually far too confident, maybe even too much for Niki’s taste.

"I have to go out." Your voice was softer than usual.

Niki narrowed his eyes, studying you. "Oh. With your friends?"

You shook your head. And something in him clicked. A stab of annoyance. He straightened up, studying you more closely. "With who then?"

You ran a hand through your hair, lowering your gaze. "With someone."

Niki felt his patience slipping through his fingers. "And who exactly is this someone?"

You hesitated for a second, then murmured a name. A name that meant absolutely nothing to him.

"He’s in the physics department... he’s in class with Jake."

Niki let out a quiet sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. A damn loser.

The only one who wasn’t a complete nerd in that department was Jake, one of his best friends. But the rest? Losers. Period.

He tilted his head slightly, letting his gaze slide over you, over that skirt that—he repeated to himself—was too short and revealed your beautiful thighs. "And did he ask you out?"

You nodded while spraying your usual sweet honey and vanilla perfume, which drifted into Niki’s room.

Niki pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, trying to ignore the growing irritation. Why the hell was this bothering him so much?

"And you said yes?"

Another hesitation, then a small nod of your head. Niki ran a hand through his hair and smirked, though he wasn’t amused at all. "I hope for his sake he knows what he’s doing," he muttered under his breath.

You looked at him, slightly confused. "What does that mean?"

He shrugged. "Nothing, princess. Have fun."

But as you turned to leave, he had already made up his mind about what to do. He didn’t like that guy. And he still hadn’t figured out if it was because he was a loser... or because he wasn’t Niki.

Niki was already lying on his bed, earbuds in his ears and his phone in hand, when he decided to text Jake. Who the hell was that guy who asked you out?

— Hey, do you know the guy Y/n is supposed to go out with?

Jake replied within seconds.

— Yeah, he’s a good guy. We have a few classes together, and he’s solid and does swimming with the university team. Why?

Niki rubbed his face, irritated for no reason. A good guy? A nerd? And a swimmer? That wasn’t okay with him at all.

You had always been his. Always.

Not in the sense that you were his girlfriend—not yet, at least—but he had always kept an eye on you, teased you, made you mad. He was the one who had watched you grow, the one who took care of you when your parents fought, the one who helped you climb over the tree to get to his room. He was the one who had helped you as a child, countless times, to disinfect your knees full of dirt and rocks. He was the one who knew every one of your insecurities and the one who loved watching you become stronger and more determined. He was the one who always waited for you to come home safe and sound after school, the one who knew exactly what you liked and what you hated.

And now? Now, it seemed like a bunch of guys were constantly around you.

Niki stood up, pushing the curtain aside with two fingers. And that’s when he saw you.

You were walking down the garden steps.

Your too-short skirt swayed slightly as you walked. Your shiny hair fell softly over your shoulders, and the streetlight made your delicate profile stand out.

But you weren’t alone; a guy he had never seen before was waiting near his car. Niki clenched his jaw. No, he didn’t like this. Not one bit.

He leaned against the glass, watching every one of your movements with his gaze. He would wait. Because you could go out with every guy in the world… but the only one who truly knew what you liked, what you didn’t like, and what drove you crazy was him.

And sooner or later, you’d figure it out too.

The night air was cool, but Niki was still warm, sweat slowly trickling down his skin as he dribbled on the basketball court behind the house. The rhythmic sound of the ball against the asphalt helped him release the tension. Tension he didn’t want to admit having.

But when he heard the sound of an engine approaching, his dribbling slowed down. His eyes immediately snapped to the road, watching the car stop in front of your house.

Then he saw you get out of the car with grace, your skirt swaying slightly with the wind, and that loser had gotten out too, leaning lightly on the hood of the car. But Niki didn’t focus on that. No, he noticed immediately the way your eyes landed on him.

Not on the guy next to you. On him. You slightly lowered your gaze, and even in the shadows, Niki noticed the faint blush warming your cheeks, and a smirk touched his lips.

He had waited for you, of course. You turned to the guy with whom you’d spent a wonderful evening wandering the streets of Seoul, eating street food, and then taking a walk along the banks of the Han River. You gave him a light kiss on the cheek, and with a faint smile, you said, “I have to go.”

The guy looked disappointed, wanting to spend more time with you, but he nodded, knowing you’d have class early the next morning. “I’d love to see you again.”

You nodded softly, watching him wave goodbye from the car as he drove off, but your mind was already elsewhere. Already on him.

You turned and began walking along the edge of the basketball court to reach your house. Niki watched you, his muscles relaxed but his gaze focused, and then, without thinking twice, he bounced the ball hard towards you, stopping it at your feet.

You looked at it for a moment, then bent down to pick it up to throw it back to him. But before you could do that, he moved quickly, standing right in front of you in an instant, too close, with an amused grin, watching you try not to look away from his muscular chest, covered only by a basketball tank top that highlighted all his well-defined muscles. "So, princess... how was the date?"

You lifted your gaze to him, trying to keep a neutral expression. "It went well."

Niki didn’t move, continuing to dribble the ball slowly between his hands. "Oh yeah? What did you do?"

You sighed. Why did he always have to stick his nose into everything you did?

"We walked through the streets of downtown Seoul, tried a couple of street foods, then we went for a walk by the river and talked the whole time."

He nodded as if he were analyzing every word you said. "And then?"

"And then he walked me home safely, as you can see."

Niki stopped dribbling the ball. "Did he kiss you? Did he touch you?"

The question caught you off guard, but instead of getting indignant, you couldn’t help but laugh. "What kind of questions are those, Nishimura?"

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for your answer.

You crossed your arms and lifted your chin, trying to look more confident than you were. "Of course, he kissed me. It was a date between two people!"

But Niki knew you too well, maybe even too well for your liking.

When you lied, you couldn’t hold someone’s gaze for more than a few seconds. And that’s exactly what you were doing now, and a smirk touched his lips as he took a step forward. Just one step, and his height completely towered over you. To his eyes, you were so small, so fragile, yet… so stubborn.

"Liars."

You swallowed, crossing your arms to create some distance between you and him. "We gave each other a peck. It still counts as a kiss."

Niki tilted his head slightly and started laughing, his gaze dark and intense. But what struck you was the way his fingers brushed against your side, almost absentmindedly, as if you had always belonged to him. He slowly leaned toward you, until his warm breath brushed your skin.

"A peck is not a real kiss." His voice was low, almost a whisper, and you felt your breath catch for a second, your heart racing in your chest.

"The only real kiss you've ever given to anyone was with me."

Then he asked you a question. The one that froze your blood in your veins and made your face burn at the same time.

"Do you remember it?"

You shook your head, and he got even closer, telling you that you weren’t good at lying. You could lie to others, but not to him. You told him it had been a long time ago and that you hadn’t thought about it (a lie because every day you thought about how he had kissed you last summer in that exact spot on the basketball court), and Niki stroked your cheek with a cheeky smile.

"Are you afraid of kissing someone and finding out that only I can make you shiver and drive you crazy?" he whispered provocatively, his warm breath against your skin.

Your breath caught for a moment. Because it was true, but you’d never admit or show him.

You clenched your fists, trying to control yourself. "You think too highly of yourself, Nishimura." You lifted your chin defiantly. "Next time I’ll kiss that guy, and he’ll do it better than you."

Niki's eyes darkened, but you kept going, challenging him. "And just so you know, that time, I didn’t feel anything."

You forced yourself to look him straight in the eyes, not looking away. Not letting him know you were lying, but the problem was, he already knew.

Niki moved even closer to you, his warm breath grazing your face. His eyes were locked onto yours, intense, dark, almost hypnotic. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb gently caressing your cheek, and without giving you time to think, his lips pressed against yours.

The kiss was a mixture of sweetness and possession. His lips moved slowly at first as if savoring each second, but then it deepened, becoming more intense. His hands slid down your neck, brushing you with a gentleness that contrasted with the firmness of his kiss. You rose onto your toes, your hands gripping his shoulders, eager to feel more, to pull him as close as possible.

His hands slid from your waist down your back before pulling you slightly closer. Then, one of his hands moved to your ass, pressing you against him, and your breasts rested against his chest. You let out a small moan at the contact of his body so close to yours. His teeth grazed your lower lip, teasingly, and you parted your lips slightly in protest—just enough for him to slide his tongue against yours. You felt him smile.

Your heart was pounding wildly, your knees slightly buckling, but Niki held you up, his fingers gripping your waist firmly. When he finally pulled away, that familiar arrogant smirk appeared on his still-wet lips.

“Well, let’s see if you don’t remember it now… and, more importantly, what you felt,” he said in a bold, provocative tone.

You couldn’t respond—you were still dazed from the kiss. Your heartbeat was so loud you were sure he could hear it. Before you could even think of a comeback, Niki turned around and walked into the house, leaving you there—breathless and with trembling legs.

You ran to your room, your face burning, and slammed your windows shut. You didn’t want to see him again, not after what had just happened. Throwing yourself onto your bed, your heart still racing, your mind was a complete mess. You lifted a hand, brushing your fingers over your lips, replaying that kiss in your head. So intense. So overwhelming. Damn it, he was driving you insane. How was it possible? Out of all the guys in the world… why him?

At university, you did everything you could to keep your distance from Niki, avoiding being alone with him. Every time you saw him in the hallways or class, you did your best to avoid his gaze. But somehow, he always seemed to find you with his eyes, as if he knew exactly where you were at all times. It didn’t make sense, yet that shiver down your spine, whenever you caught him staring, was undeniable.

That evening, your mothers were overjoyed because Niki had won the basketball championship. To celebrate, they had given him the house to throw a party. Initially, you had no intention of going, but your mom insisted, and your friends eventually convinced you to come along.

So, in the end, you agreed—but with a little revenge of your own: you would bring the guy you had been casually dating. It wasn’t anything serious, but it was the perfect opportunity to show Niki that his presence did not affect you.

You arrived at the party with your "date," laughing with your friends, trying to seem as carefree as possible. But the moment you stepped into Niki’s house, his eyes landed on you instantly. He studied you closely, his gaze sharp, before shifting his attention to the guy beside you.

And just like that, his expression changed.

For a brief second, his usual smug smile disappeared—only to be replaced by a playful smirk. But his eyes? His eyes told a different story.

He wasn’t taking this well. Not at all.

The house was packed, music blasting through the walls, yet the only thing you felt was the weight of his stare on you. You told yourself it didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. And yet, a shiver ran down your spine when you saw him exchange a few words with his friends before turning his gaze back to you—like he was already planning something.

Later, you found yourself with your friends and Niki’s group, watching him play beer pong. He was good. Obviously.

You enjoyed watching them, laughing along with the others. But after a while, you felt the need to step away.

"I'm going to the bathroom," you told your friends and the guy you had come with.

There were two bathrooms in Niki’s house—one downstairs, but it was packed with people. Instinctively, you went upstairs to the one in his room.

You had been in his room countless times as kids, but it had been a while since the last time. Looking around, your eyes landed on something on his desk—a jar full of small pebbles. The same ones he used to throw at your window to distract you while you were studying, to annoy you while you were reading, or when you were getting ready. A small smile tugged at your lips, and you let out a chuckle.

"What a control freak."

You went into the bathroom but when you stepped out… Niki was there, lying on his bed, watching you walk out of his bathroom.

Your heart jumped into your throat, and instinctively, you brought a hand to your chest. "Are you insane?! You scared the hell out of me, you idiot!"

He didn’t move. He didn’t stop looking at you. A lazy smirk framed his lips as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Did you enjoy yourself in there? Need anything? Or did you just come to snoop around my room, princess?"

"I have no interest in snooping through your room." You shoved your hands into the pockets of your denim skirt, trying to appear indifferent. "I’ve been here plenty of times, remember?" You tried to leave, but the door wouldn’t open, you froze. It was locked.

You rolled your eyes—why, why hadn’t you just waited in line for the main bathroom?

Slowly, you turned back to face him, crossing your arms. "Why is it locked?" you asked, your voice a mix of annoyance and curiosity.

Niki watched you for a moment before sitting up on the edge of his bed.

"Why did you bring that loser with you?"

You burst out laughing. "Wait… are you jealous?"

He tilted his head slightly, his dark gaze locked onto you.

"And if I was?" Your smile faltered for just a second. Your heart pounded.

Niki stood up from the bed, moving at an exasperatingly slow pace, and damn—he was even taller now. Even more muscular. In the blink of an eye, you found yourself trapped between him and the door.

It was a game. Just like always. He pushed, and you pushed back. Neither of you wanted to back down. But this time, the air felt different.

Heavy. Electric. Niki looked down at you, amusement flickering in his gaze. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Do you expect me to believe you like him?"

You lifted your chin, refusing to give him the satisfaction. "Better him than someone who thinks he’s a god just because he can play basketball."

He let out a low chuckle, leaning down just enough for his breath to brush against your skin.

"You like provoking me, huh?"

"And you like being provoked." You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to compose yourself, but Niki just laughed softly, shaking his head.

"You’re so small." His eyes roamed over you, shining with amusement. "And damn beautiful when you’re angry."

You rolled your eyes, determined not to fall for his words.

"I’m not falling for it, Nishimura."

He braced a hand against the door, leaning even closer.

"You already did. Twice." His smirk was confident. Cocky. "Tell me—who's the only one that’s ever kissed you? Only me. Your whole life."

Your jaw clenched, hating that it was true. Hating even more that he knew it.

"The guy I came with kissed me too," you said, lifting your chin in defiance. His eyebrows raised for a second. Then, he laughed.

"That loser?" He shook his head, clearly amused. "You gave him a peck on the lips, Y/n. That wasn’t a real kiss."

He moved in closer, so close his lips were just a breath away from yours.

"And I bet you didn’t feel anything. I bet he doesn’t drive you crazy the way I do. I bet he knows nothing about you. And I bet the only reason you brought him here was to mess with me—to get under my skin."

You opened your mouth to argue, but you didn’t get the chance.

Without a second thought—without giving you a chance to escape—he cupped your face in his hands and crashed his lips onto yours.

His kiss was possessive. Confident. A kiss that told you, without words, that you were his. That no one else could have you.

And you… you didn’t stop him. Your breath came in ragged gasps as your arms instinctively wrapped around his body, your fingers gripping his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

He was too much. Too close. Too intense. And yet… you didn’t want to pull away.

A low groan escaped from his lips as he felt you hold him tighter, and his grip on your face became stronger. "You’re driving me crazy." His voice was husky, loaded with something that made your back shiver. " Since you kissed me this summer for a fucking bet."

You were breathless when his lips left yours and fell down your neck. Her mouth was hot, and pushy and a shiver ran through your body when you felt your tongue touch your skin before he sucked it slightly, leaving you breathless. He wanted to hear you say what he already knew.

"Tell me it’s the same for you." His voice was a whisper against your skin. "Tell me you don’t think of anything else, or I’ll stop."

But he didn’t stop. You clenched your teeth, trying to fight that overwhelming feeling but then you felt him sucking your neck.

A groan escaped from your lips before you could stop it, and without even thinking about it, you admitted it.

"The same goes for me."

A low growl vibrated in his chest. "I knew it." And without losing a moment, he lifted you from the ground and a small cry escaped you as you were in the air, your legs squeezing around his waist by instinct, and within seconds you were in his bed, on his lap.

His hands were everywhere and his mouth on your neck became more voracious, more hungry. As if he never had enough.

"Damn you, princess."

Niki kept kissing you, his warm and hungry lips moving along your neck, slowly descending to the collarbones. His touch sent shivers down your back, his light bite made your breath tremble.

"Niki..." you groaned, feeling too sensitive to his attentions.

He laughed softly, his warm breath against your skin. "You’re so responsive, baby."

His big hands slipped under your top, the soft fabric that lifted as his fingertips caressed your skin. He paused for a moment, looking into your eyes, and the heart beating like a madman-yearbook.

A satisfied grin painted on his lips. "Raise your arms."

You did it without thinking about it, and he slowly pulled off your top, leaving you in a bra before him.

"Good girl, good girl."

The phrase struck you more than you wanted to admit, and before you could say anything, Niki lowered his head and left a kiss on your forehead.

A sweet gesture. So different from how he had always been with you yet when he looked down and saw your pink and blue bra, delicate, perfectly good girl mischievous smirk curled his lips.

"Typical of you." He laughed softly, shaking his head. "So innocent even in the details, huh?"

His fingers touched the light lace, teasing you without haste, playing with you, provoking you as always.

"You already have buds so hard." His voice went down, husky. "I wonder what they would be like under my tongue..."

A shiver ran through your back, but you weren’t the only one playing.

With a daring smile, you grabbed the edge of his sweatshirt and pulled it off, even taking off his shirt in one gesture.

And, damn it. His abs were sculpted. His V-line was so defined that it looked like drawn.

Hours and hours spent in the gym and on the basketball field had done their job and you bit your lip, fingers touching his chest without shame. "You spend more time training than studying, huh?" you teased, your provocative tone.

Niki raised an eyebrow, a funny flash in her dark eyes. "It’s obviously worth it since you can’t stop looking at me."

You laughed and lowered yourself slightly, your lips touching the warm skin of his neck. You felt Niki hold his breath for a second, before letting slip a little sound of pleasure.

You smiled at each other. You had found its weak point and there was no longer any hesitation on your part. You sucked it gently, letting your tongue caress that precise spot before just nibbling.

"Damnation, Y/N." His voice was husky, charged with something that made your back shiver.

He took you by the chin, forcing you to look at it. "I never would have expected that from you."

You raised an eyebrow, enjoy it. "If you know me from birth doesn’t mean you know everything about me."

He tilted his head slightly and laughed, slid his fingers down your back, the light but possessive touch. "Then I want to find out your every secret."

Your hands trembled slightly as you caressed his abs. Damn, it was perfect and you bit your lip, then, without thinking too much, you pushed it slightly.

Niki dropped backward, leaning on her elbows, looking down at you with a mix of curiosity and fun. " Interesting."

You stooped down again, your lips leaving a kiss trail along his chest, then even lower, touching the sculpted abs that moved slightly under your touch.

As your gaze lowered again, you noticed a thin line of hair running from the navel down to the pants.

Your breath stopped for a moment, and Niki noticed it immediately.

"Did you get stuck, princess?" His voice was a mixture of teasing and sweetness.

The blush went up to your cheeks, but before he could say anything else, you looked into his eyes and decided to give him back the game.

"Perhaps." You smiled, bowing your head. "But maybe not."

Niki ran his tongue over his lips, his eyes darkening more and more. "Mmh, then let’s see how far you’ll go."

You continued that torture of kisses from the navel to the edge of his pants. You felt his abs twitch slightly under your touch, while his breathing became slower and more controlled.

"You can take them off if you want."

His voice was low, loaded with something that made you warm up to your cheeks and for a moment you performed, then you reached out your hands and with an uncertain movement pulled the pants off.

He was the classic boy who wore Supreme boxers, black and essential. You didn’t know why, but that thing hit you and Niki noticed it immediately.

"Did you get stuck again, princess?" You looked at him, biting the inside of your cheek. He knew very well that you had never done anything like this.

For a moment, his smirk softened, and leaned towards you, lifting your chin slightly with two fingers. "Lie down."

You didn’t perform. He was the only person in the world you couldn’t say no to.

You lay down on his bed, your heart beating like crazy. Niki stood over you, leaning on an elbow to look at you better.

With a slow gesture, he swiped his fingers down your thigh until he unbuttoned the button on your denim skirt, slid it off, and stopped. He whistled quietly and only then you realized that you were wearing a matching blue lace outfit.

Your instinct was to close your legs, but Niki wouldn’t let you.

He laid a hand on your thigh, stopping you. His touch was light, but at the same time authoritative.

"For whom did you wear it?" he asked, his eyes glistening with amusement. You felt yourself warm up to your ears. You tried to find a quick answer.

"I... only have matching outfits." He raised an eyebrow. "Do you collect them?"

You looked away, embarrassed, and whistled softly to deflect the question and Niki laughed, a low, deep sound. A sound that made your back shiver.

He ran his tongue over his lips, then slowly slid a finger along the lace edge of your panties and leaned down near your ear, his breath touching your skin.

"You’re so innocent." His voice was a whisper, a promise. "And that’s why I have an insane desire to ruin you."

Niki bowed slightly to you, his gaze full of curiosity and desire. His fingers touched the thin fabric of your panties and a shiver ran down your back. The feeling was strangely new, different from the lonely intimacy you were used to.

"Tell me, have you ever touched yourself?" His voice was low, intriguing.

You looked down in embarrassment but replied with a slight nod.

"And how do you do it?" he insisted, with a smirk on his lips. Swallows, cheeks burning. "Usually when I read... or sometimes I look at myself..."

Niki laughed softly, amused by your hesitation. "Watching you? Do you mean watching porn?"

You covered your face with your hands, trying to hide the embarrassment. "S-yes..." you admitted, almost in a whisper.

He tilted his head to one side, looking at you with bright eyes. "And did you touch yourself as you looked at them?"

You annule weakly, feeling the heart pounding in your chest.

"Have you ever come?" His voice became lower, more persuasive.

You shook your head, unable to lie and a smug smile bowed his lips. "Then you are not as innocent as everyone thinks."

With a firm tug, he took off your panties, leaving you exposed to his watchful eye. He whistled softly as if to underline his admiration.

"Look here... You’re already wet. Just for me, right?"

His statement made you shiver, and before you could answer, you felt the light touch of his fingers on your clitoris. A choked moan escaped from your lips as he drew small circles slow and provocative.

"Fingers or tongue?" he asked with a funny smirk.

"D-fingers..." you replied, unable to formulate a complete sentence.

Without hesitation, he slid a finger into you, exploring you with slow and precise movements. You felt overwhelmed by the sensation, the warmth of his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"So tight and so excited... Only for me. And no other boy."

His words hit you deep down, a mixture of desire and possessiveness that you had never experienced before.

You breathe in between the sighs, your body tense as he increases his pace, making you feel sensations that you had never felt before. But he was not content to see you lose control so easily. His more possessive, more dominant part took over.

"By tonight you will have erased that guy’s number," he whispered decisively as he added a second finger without warning, making you sigh louder. " I don’t want to hear about it anymore. Understand?"

Your hands clung to his long hair, pulling it slightly as pleasure clouded your mind. "S-yes..." groaning.

He slowed down the movement, pressing with his fingers, keeping you suspended on that thin line between desire and the desperate need to reach orgasm. "Yes, what?"

His tone demanded a clear answer, and the need for liberation made you give in completely. "I will delete the number!" you cried out. " There’s only you... only you, Niki!"

A smug grin formed on his face before she slightly pinched your clitoris. The pleasure exploded in you with an unexpected force and you came between his fingers with small puffs and groans, your body trembling as he kept tickling you, prolonging your pleasure.

"Good girl," he whispered, kissing you languidly, her tone still loaded with possession. "Now you know who you belong to, don’t you?"

And you, still gasping in his arms, knew that there was no one else but him. Niki lay down in front of you, holding his elbows, and you, between your sighs, caressed his cheek whispering with a trembling voice:

"Do not make me suffer." He took your delicate hands between his own, sensing the slight trembling, and with a sweet but at the same time mischievous smile guided her into his boxer shorts.

We don’t have to do it if you don’t feel like it," he whispered, but his eyes were betraying an almost uncontrollable desire.

You looked him straight in the eyes, feeling the heartbeat in his chest.

"I know that I will only lose my virginity with you. With no one else." Your words were a truth you had never spoken out loud before.

Niki was shocked for a moment, taken aback by your sincerity. He couldn’t stand you - or at least that’s what he’d always told himself - but the truth was that he had been obsessed with you for years, ever since you were little. The thought that you were only his made him crazy.

"Take them off," he ordered with a hoarse whisper, referring to his boxers.

You performed, with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

Its length was long, full, and slightly edged by a few transparent drops. You performed for a second, then reached out and touched him shyly.

With an uncertain movement, but instinctive, you strolled along your center and an involuntary groaning escaped from your lips. The heat of his skin against you was a new, intense, almost overwhelming experience. You had never let anything in before, and the idea that he was the first one made you burn from within, a mixture of fear, excitement, and uncontrollable desire.

Niki kissed you lovingly, his lips moving slowly and hot on yours, while his hands explored your body with a sweetness that made you tremble. You took your hands off his cock and wrapped them around his neck, pressing against him with desire. He pushed himself slightly inside you, and a little moan slipped from your lips as you felt your body adapt to him. Your eyes were pinching slightly, and Niki noticed it immediately.

"I want to hear you..." he whispered in a husky voice, stroking your hair and looking at you with those dark eyes full of desire. You looked at him biting your lower lip and moaned: "Move, please..."

He pulled out almost completely and then pushed back in, this time deeper, with a slow but intense rhythm. You tortured his biceps with your fingers, sinking your nails slightly into his warm skin, while at each thump your voice became quivering and wheezing.

At first, he was kind to you, attentive to your every reaction, but when he felt your body give in completely to pleasure, his cheeky and dominant side took over.

"Fuck... who knew my good girl could take my dick so well?" whispered near your ear, nibbling at your lobe and leaving you shivering down your back. "You like it, don’t you? You’re all open to me, tight and wet only for me. Say it."

You felt yourself blazing at its dirty and possessive tone, but at the same time sweet, as if every word was designed to make you feel desired and loved.

"S-yeah... just for you..." moaning softly, squeezing him with your legs around his hips, wanting him even closer.

He let his tongue run down your neck, going down the collarbone as he increased the rhythm of the thrusts. His hands held you firmly by your hips, guiding you as they moved within you with an almost brutal passion.

"Good... that’s what you do. You’re so fucking tight to me..." he panted, slightly increasing the pace, making your head bend backward for pleasure. " You should see yourself... you’re a sight to behold as you take my cock."

Every word made you melt more and more, you felt your body react to every provocation, and each touch made you want more. Niki noticed it and with a mischievous smile kissed you with even more passion, biting slightly your lower lip before whispering: "From today you are only mine, understood? No one else will make you feel that way."

Niki increased the pace, sinking inside you with an intensity that made you completely lose control.

The pleasure climbed up your back like an unstoppable fire, and your groans melted with the sound of his husky voice. " You’re almost there, aren’t you?" you whispered in your ear, with a satisfied grin. "I can hear it from the way you squeeze around me... Christ, you are made to take me like this."

His words made you shiver, and when his thumb landed on your swollen clitoris, a wave of pure pleasure swept over you. Your body tense, your mouth opened in a choked scream as the orgasm hit you hard. Niki did not stop, anxious to reach you, and with some deep push and a muffled growl, sank completely inside of you.

"Where do you want me to come?" he whispered, the irregular breath against your skin wet with sweat.

Without hesitation, among the spasms of pleasure that still ran through your body, whispered with a thread of voice: "Inside... I take the pill."

A flash of dark desire went through his eyes, and with a last, powerful dash, he let go inside you. You felt his warm seed fill you, as he held you as if he never wanted to let go. He slowed down the pace, savoring every moment, the heavy breath against your skin as he tried to recover.

Then, without warning, you whispered words that made you jump more than the rest of the night. "Fuck... I think I’ve fallen in love with you."

You looked at him with wide eyes, the heart that seemed to explode in your chest. The cheeky, self-confident Niki now looked vulnerable, as if that confession had slipped through his fingers. He, embarrassed by your silence, hid his face in the groove of your neck and squeezed you even harder.

You couldn’t help but smile, even if the blush set your cheeks on fire. With a trembling but sincere voice, you replied: "Deep down... I think I’ve always been in love with you."

Niki rose slightly, his eyes chained to yours. With an unexpected delicacy, he ran his fingers through your wet hair and touched your face as if he were afraid to break you. Then, with a smile that was a mixture of arrogance and affection, he kissed you on the forehead and added with a mischievous smirk: "So the good girl had a thing for the bad boy? Who would have thought..."

He gave you another little pinch on your side, making you laugh as he sat down next to you, wrapping you in the warmth of his body. And at that moment, between the still tangled sheets and the busy breaths, you realized there was nowhere else I wanted to be but in Niki’s arms.

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[spideyjimin]

Adieu mon amour | jjk

⤷ adieu mon amour, french for goodbye my love

—  pairing: jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: angst 

—  summary: jungkook released two days ago a song about saying goodbye to a loved one.

—  words: 894

—  warnings: crying, mention of dead, heartbreak, and grief

—  author’s note: sooo this extremely sad drabble was written a while ago, but i never felt confident to post it. but a french artist released a song called “adieu mon amour”, and somehow, i felt like i could post this. i lost two dear people not a long time ago and writing this helped me putting into words my grief. this is not perfect and might contain mistakes, but i don’t want this to be perfect because pain isn’t.

MASTERLIST

The crowd fills the concert hall with the soft glow of their phone lights. Jungkook sits at the piano, his fingers resting on the keys as he performs the song he just released. It’s a heartbreaking ballad. A ballad that tells the story of two people that never got their happy ending. A ballad that tells his story with you.

A week ago, he found out that you passed away. The pain he felt that moment was something he never felt before. It’s the kind of pain that eats you alive. His heart aches so much and sometimes he feels like he’d be able to rip it out from his chest. This pain is simply overwhelming.

Three days ago, he assisted to your funeral with an aching heart, shaky legs, swollen eyes, and tears streaming down his face. He never imagined saying goodbye to his first love. He never imagined you’d no longer be a part of his life at 27. He never imagined a life without you.

His sweet voice sings the first notes of the song, his mind brought back to the many memories he cherishes. He closes his eyes and let your smile irritate his world one more time. A smile he’ll never see again. Without realizing it, tears run down his face, but he doesn’t hold them back.

After your funeral, he received a letter. A letter you wrote right before dying. A letter he never imagined receiving. It’s a love letter you wrote months ago, one where you told him just how much you love him. In the entire page, you kept telling him how lucky you felt to have him by your side all these years. And you also kept mentioning how proud you were of him.

He never leaves without the letter. He carries it with him everywhere. It’s all he has left of you. Your final words, the love you left behind, something to hold onto in a world without you. It’s a symbolic way to carry you with him as you are no longer here. The mere thought that you won’t be home when he finishes his show breaks his heart in ways he can even express.

His voice breaks. Then he hears you. ‘I love you.’ The words cut through him. His heart bleeds, and he doesn’t know if he can finish the song. His manager told him earlier that he didn’t need to sing the song if it was too hard for him, but Jungkook wanted it. Jungkook wanted to do it for you. For the only woman he ever loved.

Even though there’s a knot in his throat, he keeps singing. He wants to finish the song for you. For the love of his life. For the only person that ever made his heart truly beat. It seems like it’s the only thing he can do right now. For you, he can find the strength to finish this song.

He never imagined himself writing and singing this type of song. He never imagined writing a song about losing someone, and that’s the most heartbreaking thing. But music is the one of the few things that keeps him going. If he stops for a second, he just falls apart. He could have taken a break, put this world tour on hold, but for his own sanity, he can’t. And he knows that the second the show ends, he’ll just cry his heart out.

‘How is he supposed to live without you?’ is the question that constantly echoes in his mind. Time seems to move so slow without you by his side, and he doesn’t know if he can bear all of this any longer. There’s only been a week, and he still has a lifetime to live.

But there’s the little Arya. Your daughter. She’s the reason why Jungkook keeps going. She’s the reason why he bears this pain. She’s only four and doesn’t deserve to lose her mother. She doesn’t deserve any of this, just like Jungkook.

Jungkook opens his eyes and finally looks at the crowd. The view is breathtaking. This is so beautiful. On top of it, he’s surprised to notice that some fans already know the lyrics to the song he released two days ago.

The other heartbreaking thing is the fact that nobody knows what and who this song refers to. Nobody knows it’s about losing a loved one. Nobody will ever know Jungkook just lost you and how much he loved you. People don’t even know about Arya because he always protected you and will forever do it.

“I hear your laughter everywhere,” he sings. “In my souvenirs of you.”

From wherever you are, he hopes you can hear his words and see this crowd, his fans. If you were still here, you would most probably shed a tear. Whenever there was a sad song, the beauty of the moment would made you cry. It was something he loved about you.

The last harmonies of the song echo in the room. Jungkook is already sad to finish this song. He doesn’t want it. He wants this song to last forever, but he knows he can’t. He engraves in his soul this painfully beautiful moment, and he knows he’ll hold it dearly in his heart.

And he finally says the last words of the song.

“Goodbye my love.”

[shesgaymichaelscott]

melissa x fem!reader where they're just friends but melissa gets jealous about someone flirting with reader and reader is clueless

Jealousy and Power Ballads

Word Count: 3.8k <3

(mutual idiots in love, jealous mel, confessions, eventual smut)

taglist  - @writerspirit @schemmentigfs

~

The Abbott crew had descended on K-Town Karaoke like a sitcom cast invading a dive bar. Someone (Ava) had declared that the only way to celebrate surviving benchmark testing was with "power ballads and power pours," and somehow the plan stuck.

You were sandwiched in a corner booth between Jacob and Janine, your third cocktail sweating in your hand, your cheeks flushed from laughing at Jacob's dramatic retelling of running into his ex ten minutes ago.

"You don't understand," he was saying. "I was just trying to refill my parking meter and boom — Avi. Same scarf. Same smug smirk. He looked like a sad gay raccoon in Lululemon."

Janine snorted. "You okay?"

"Oh, I'm better than okay," Jacob said, eyes laser-focused on the tall, bearded bartender wiping down the counter. "Because that man? Is about to become my post-breakup moment. Bestie, come on. Wingwoman protocol."

You blinked. "What? Me?"

"You're charming, unassuming, and no one can resist that thing you do with your smile when you're trying to help me lie."

"Thanks?" you said, bemused, sliding out of the booth anyway. "I'll get us another round."

Melissa was across from you, one arm draped casually over the back of her seat, legs crossed, a knowing smile on her lips. "Don't let this one get you into trouble, sweetheart."

That was your thing—her calling you "sweetheart," "baby," "trouble." You'd told yourself a hundred times it didn't mean anything. Just the way Melissa was with people she liked. Friendly teasing. No big deal.

Still, her voice did that thing to your stomach it always did. The fluttering drop.

"I'll behave," you promised. She raised an eyebrow like she doubted it, and you pretended not to melt.

Jacob beelined for the bearded bartender, tossing you a look that said "pretend we're very interesting." You leaned against the bar, flipping through the laminated karaoke list even though you knew you'd chicken out before ever picking a song.

That's when the other bartender—a woman with sleeve tattoos, bold eyeliner, and a smirk that could probably make Ava nervous—slid up in front of you.

"Hey," she said, tossing a bar towel over her shoulder. "What can I get you, gorgeous?"

You blinked. "Oh. Uh, three whiskeys and a tequila soda?"

"Sure," she said, already pouring. "You've got the sweetest face. You sing too?"

"I—sometimes? Badly. Only if no one's recording."

She smiled. "That's okay. I'm off in an hour if you need a duet partner. I've been known to make a mean harmonization of 'Jesse's Girl.'"

You laughed—awkward and caught off guard—but it was genuine. "I'll keep that in mind."

Across the room, Melissa watched, jaw tight, arms crossed over her chest. She'd been laughing at something Janine said, but now her eyes were locked on you and that bartender like a laser sight.

Barbara, ever perceptive, noticed immediately.

"She's just being friendly," Barbara murmured, sipping her wine. "Let the girl live."

"She's flirting," Melissa snapped under her breath.

Ava leaned across the table. "Damn, Schemmenti, jealous much?"

Melissa shot her a look. "She doesn't even know that woman. And that woman doesn't know a damn thing about her."

"She's allowed to get hit on, you know," Janine said carefully. "Our girl's hot. It happens."

Melissa's mouth twitched. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

Meanwhile, back at the bar, you took the drinks gratefully from the bartender and gave her a small, uncertain smile. "Thanks. You're...nice."

"Nice?" she repeated, clearly amused. "That's what you're going with?"

You blushed. "Sorry, I'm just—" You glanced back toward the booth and froze. Melissa was already standing, looking your way, fire in her eyes like she'd just lost a bet and was gonna take it out on everyone.

"Thanks, um, for the drinks," you mumbled, barely able to hold eye contact any longer.

You returned to the booth, balancing the tray of drinks like you hadn't just been aggressively flirted with by a woman who looked like she rode a motorcycle and listened to Kehlani exclusively. Melissa was already seated again, but she wasn't smiling now.

You slid the drinks across the table with a cheerful, "Mission accomplished," only for Melissa to nod once and mutter a flat, "Thanks."

Your brow furrowed. "Everything okay?"

"Peachy," she replied, eyes on her glass, not on you.

Okay... odd.

Janine took her whiskey with a curious glance between the two of you but wisely didn't comment. Jacob was too busy grinning at his phone—presumably exchanging thirst texts with the hot bartender—to notice anything.

You tried again. "Melissa, seriously. You good?"

"Fine," she said, sharply enough to make even Barbara glance up.

Melissa took a long sip of her drink like she was trying to drown the part of herself that wanted to say something else. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably. You were used to her teasing, her warmth wrapped in sarcasm—but this? This was cold.

You looked down at your drink, confusion rolling around in your chest like a marble in a jar. Across the table, Melissa refused to meet your eyes. The ice in your glass wasn't the only thing melting fast.

Janine leaned over and stage-whispered, "Y'all fightin'? Should I order the group therapy karaoke package?"

Jacob perked up. "Is that a thing?"

Melissa stood suddenly, muttering, "I need a smoke," even though everyone knew she hadn't had a cigarette in almost nine years. She disappeared toward the front door like she couldn't get away fast enough.

You stared after her, dazed.

Barbara gave a sigh and sipped her wine like it pained her to be right all the time. "Child," she said under her breath, "she's jealous."

"What?" you blinked at her.

"Don't play innocent," Ava cut in, gesturing with her straw like it was a pointer. "You're out here accidentally picking up bartenders like it's nothing. Schemmenti's about to combust."

"I wasn't picking anyone up," you protested. "She was just being friendly!"

"Friendly with bedroom eyes," Janine muttered.

Jacob waved a hand. "This sounds like the exact plot of a musical. Love triangle, yearning, maybe a rain scene—anyway, let's go. We're up."

"Huh?"

"Karaoke, remember? Come on," he said, dragging you by the hand. "You owe me for bar backup."

You let him pull you up to the stage, your mind still in the booth with Melissa's unreadable expression and the sting of her voice in your ear. The lights above the karaoke screen flared to life, casting everything in a dreamy haze as the opening notes of a soulful, slow-jam duet filled the air.

You and Jacob harmonized better than expected—honestly, you were sort of killing it. But your eyes kept flicking toward the bar, where the sleeve-tattooed bartender was still very much watching you with a smirk that said she liked what she saw.

You offered her a brief, nervous smile—reflex more than anything—and she winked. Winked. You missed your next note completely.

Then, to your absolute horror, a server appeared at the edge of the stage holding a tray with a fresh tequila soda.

"This is for you," he said, pointing toward the bar. "From her."

You stared at the drink. Then at her. Then at the booth—where Melissa had returned just in time to watch the entire thing.

She looked like she was chewing glass.

"I need to talk to you. Now." Melissa grabbed your wrist and pulled you off the makeshift stage without a second thought.

You barely managed to pass your mic to Ava (who gleefully took over, belting the bridge with unnecessary commitment) before Melissa was ushering you away from the others and out onto the back patio, her steps quick and clipped.

The night air was cool, biting against your skin. You folded your arms, confused and flustered. "Melissa, what the hell?"

She turned on you, eyes flashing. "Are you seriously entertaining that bartender?"

"I'm not—she was just being nice!"

"That's not what nice looks like. That's what 'take me home and ruin me' looks like."

Your face went hot. "Melissa!"

"I mean it," she said, softer now, but no less intense. "Do you... like her?"

"No," you said honestly. "I don't even know her."

"Then why were you smiling like that?"

"Because I'm nice!" you said, exasperated. "Because I didn't want to be rude!"

Melissa paced two steps away, running a hand through her hair, clearly trying to keep it together. "I can't do this."

"Do what?"

"This," she gestured between you. "Watching you get hit on by people who don't know a damn thing about you while I sit there pretending it doesn't bother me."

You blinked. "Wait... so it does bother you?"

Melissa looked at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course it does. I—God. I've been half in love with you for a year. I've been flirting with you ever since you walked into my life and you never flirt back."

Your mouth dropped open. "I thought that was just your thing!"

"It's my thing with you," she said softly.

Your heart stopped, restarted, then thudded against your ribs so hard you swore she could hear it.

"What?"

Melissa stepped closer, voice quiet now. "I just thought you'd never see me that way. So I teased. I flirted. I stayed your friend. But watching her flirt with you? Watching you light up? I lost it."

"I only lit up," you said slowly, "because someone was finally looking at me the way I wanted you to."

Melissa blinked.

"You," you clarified, stepping in, daring to touch her arm. "I wanted it to be you."

It was her turn to stare. "Are you saying—?"

You kissed her. You didn't think about it, didn't plan it, just closed the space and kissed her like it had been bottled up for far too long.

When you pulled back, she looked like someone had just unplugged her and rebooted her from scratch.

"Oh," she said faintly. "Okay. So that happened."

"Yeah."

She smirked, wicked and stunned all at once. "Fucking finally."

Melissa was still grinning, her hands now on your waist like they belonged there — like they always had.

You could feel her breath on your lips, her forehead almost resting against yours, her voice lower than a whisper. "Wanna come home with me?"

Your pulse fluttered like a trapped bird. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

She nodded once, sure and certain, and laced her fingers with yours like it was instinct. "Let's get outta here."

You didn't even look back as she led you toward the exit — but your friends, of course, noticed.

Ava leaned over to Janine and said, "Look at them. That's not just 'we kissed outside the bar' energy. That's 'we're skipping dessert because we are dessert' energy."

Barbara, who had been quietly sipping her drink, gave a knowing nod and murmured, "About time."

Jacob raised his whiskey like a toast. "May they finally stop eye-flirting across the lunch table."

Janine clutched her heart dramatically. "Do you think they're gonna tell us what happened?"

"No," Ava deadpanned. "But we'll hear about it anyway."

Outside, the cold air sobered the world just enough to make everything feel real — the slick sidewalk under your feet, the warm strength of Melissa's hand in yours, the stunned giddiness still pinballing through your chest.

She looked at you when the wind tugged your hair across your cheek, her eyes lingering like she was memorizing you. "You sure?"

You laughed softly. "I've been sure for a while. I just didn't think I got to have this."

Her smile was softer now, the edges folded with something fragile — reverent. "You do. You get me."

The drive to her place was quiet — not awkward, but full. Her hand stayed on your thigh the whole time, her thumb tracing lazy, grounding circles against your jeans.

At every red light, she looked over at you like she couldn't quite believe you were really there.

"Are we gonna talk about what just happened?" you asked, half-laughing.

Melissa smirked. "Later. Right now I just wanna hold you and maybe kiss you again a lot."

"That sounds manageable."

Inside her place — familiar but newly charged — she kicked off her boots, tossed her keys on the counter, and turned to face you like she'd been waiting her whole life to do it properly.

You stood in her living room, breath caught between anticipation and disbelief.

Then she stepped forward, took your face in both hands, and kissed you like she meant it. Like she always had. Like her teasing, her protectiveness, her jealousy — it had all been orbiting this moment.

When you pulled back to breathe, her forehead pressed to yours again, voice low and fond. "Still with me, sweetheart?"

You nodded, hands fisting in the fabric of her shirt. "I've always been with you."

Melissa kissed your temple, then your cheek, then your jaw — slow and certain. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this."

"You could've told me."

"You would've laughed."

"I might've kissed you anyway."

She smiled. "You're gonna be so smug about this."

"Oh, absolutely."

"Good," she said, mouth brushing yours again. "I like you mouthy."

You tilted your head, grinning up at her with that smug little glint in your eye — the one you knew made her crazy.

"Oh, baby," you purred, voice faux-innocent, "if you think I'm mouthy now, you should've seen me with the bartender."

Melissa froze mid-kiss.

You smirked, satisfied at the way her grip on your waist tightened instantly. "She said she liked my voice. Said we'd make a great duet."

"Did she now," Melissa said flatly, but her eyes had darkened, voice husky and low — and unmistakably possessive.

You gave a half shrug. "I mean, I was just being nice. Laughing at her jokes. Flipping my hair a little. You know, all those things you claim you don't notice me doing."

"Oh, I notice," she growled, walking you backward until you were trapped against the wall. "I notice every damn second."

You bit your lip, barely holding back a smile. "So... the jealous thing? Kinda hot, not gonna lie."

Melissa's hands were already on your thighs, her knee nudging between yours. "Yeah? You like getting me worked up?"

"I like the results."

She kissed you again — firmer this time, hands sure and possessive. "Then maybe next time you feel like flirting with someone else in front of me," she whispered against your mouth, "you think real hard about whether you want me pissed off or just plain worked up."

You exhaled a shaky breath, already dizzy from her attention. "Guess it depends on how fast you're gonna drag me out of there."

Melissa grinned, wicked and fond all at once. "Oh sweetheart," she murmured, nudging your nose with hers, "next time? I won't even wait until we're home."

Your breath hitched, a hot little tremor skating down your spine.

You barely managed to whisper, "Take me upstairs?"

Melissa's eyes flicked over you — hungry, reverent — and the shift in her was instantaneous. No more teasing. Just intent. Just heat.

She didn't answer with words.

Instead, she grabbed your hand and pulled you with her, the pace brisk and electric, her grip firm like she was afraid letting go would break the spell. You stumbled a little up the steps, laughing once under your breath — a giddy sound that died the second she turned and kissed you again halfway up the staircase, her mouth claiming yours like it was owed.

By the time you reached her bedroom, you were breathless, giggling between kisses and muttering things like "finally" and "took you long enough."

Melissa shut the door with a soft click and pressed you against it like she needed to feel you everywhere — her hands exploring now with more purpose, her mouth trailing along your jaw, down your throat.

You tilted your head, gave her access, your voice already ragged. "Still jealous?"

She hummed against your skin. "You have no idea."

You gasped when her hands found your waist again, sliding under your shirt, her touch hot and reverent and entirely hers. "Good," you breathed. "Because I'm not sharing."

"Neither am I."

Melissa's voice was a low rasp, more breath than words, as her fingers brushed the hem of your shirt again — not rushing, just slow, deliberate, reverent. She peeled it off of you inch by inch, like it was some ceremony she'd been dreaming of performing for years.

Her gaze swept over you, dark and possessive and awed. "Jesus," she murmured. "You're even better than I imagined."

You reached for her shirt, tugging at the edge until she obliged and slipped it over her head. And, God help you, the sight of her — toned, freckled, all curves and confidence — nearly knocked the breath from your lungs.

"Oh my God," you whispered.

She smirked, clearly enjoying the way your eyes devoured her. "What's that look for?"

"You," you said, dazed. "Just... you. I've had dreams less vivid than this."

She laughed — low and smug and fond — and stepped in close, brushing her lips along your cheek, your ear. "Wanna make those dreams come true, baby? You just have to ask."

You swallowed hard, fingers gripping the waistband of her jeans. "Melissa—please."

"Please what?" she asked, kissing the corner of your mouth, then lower, her hands skating down your sides. "Use your words, sweetheart. You know I like when you use that pretty mouth."

You whimpered, body arching toward her. "Please touch me. I need you to—God, just—"

That was all it took.

She pushed you gently back toward the bed, her eyes locked with yours as she followed, every motion patient, confident, hungry.

Your back hit the mattress with a soft thud, and you barely noticed — too caught in the heat of her, the way she loomed over you, confident and steady, like she already knew you were hers.

"Look at you," Melissa murmured, eyes raking over you. Her voice was rich, smoky. "So eager."

You couldn't help it — the way your legs parted for her, how your body just... gave. She hadn't even properly touched you yet, and you felt undone.

"Please," you whispered again, voice trembling, desperate now. "I can't—just touch me, Mel. I need you."

She took her time, like she had all the patience in the world and none of it at the same time — her fingers brushing the inside of your thigh, teasing you with maddening care. And when she finally slipped her fingers where you needed her most—

"Oh, baby," she exhaled, low and reverent. "You're soaked."

You moaned, flushed with the sheer vulnerability of it, the way she made you feel easy and pliant and known. Like she was reading your body like a favorite book she'd always wanted to finish.

"You've been like this for me all night, haven't you?" she murmured, kissing your neck, your shoulder. "All that time, pretending we were just friends..."

You arched into her touch, breath hitching. "I never wanted to be just friends."

"Good," she said, and her voice was something rough and tender all at once. "Because I'm never letting you go now."

Melissa kissed you again — deep and slow — as her hand moved with aching precision. She touched you like she already knew every way you liked to be unraveled, like she'd spent years imagining this exact moment and wasn't about to waste a second of it.

You clutched at her shoulders, gasping her name between broken pleas and breathless laughter, overwhelmed by how much you wanted her — how much she gave, how much she took.

She pressed her forehead to yours, her voice low and wrecked. "That's it, sweetheart. Let me take care of you."

You nodded through a choked moan, body arching, clinging to her like gravity didn't exist anymore. "God, Mel—please—I need—"

"I've got you," she whispered. "Always."

When it was too much, when you were shaking and breathless and clutching at her like she was the only thing holding you together, you managed to gasp out, "Let me touch you. Please. I want to—I need—"

The look she gave you — dark, affectionate, stunned — nearly undid you all over again.

"You want to take care of me now?" she asked, brushing your hair back from your flushed face.

You nodded, desperate and raw. "Let me make you feel the way you make me feel."

She kissed you like a promise and whispered, "Then come here, baby. I'm all yours." She shifted, hand still between your legs, but now she guided your fingers between hers. Her eyes fluttered shut as you were met with her warm, dripping center.

"Oh fuck. Mel, you feel-" you groan into her neck.

Your heart stuttered. She was still inside you — still warm, still close — and now you were inside her too, your bodies tangled, trembling, synced like a secret rhythm only the two of you knew.

Her moan was low and ragged in your ear as you moved together, lips brushing, foreheads pressed, breathing each other in. It was messy and tender and overwhelming — not just the heat, but the trust, the ache, the years of friendship turned into something breathtaking.

You kissed her messily, desperately — lips brushing, missing, catching again. There was no finesse left, no teasing edge, just need. Pure and simple and burning.

"God, Melissa," you breathed against her mouth. "You're so good — so good to me. So beautiful."

She whimpered at that, hips stuttering against yours, her own voice thick with want. "Say it again," she begged, breath hot in your ear. "Say my name like that."

You did, over and over, like it was a prayer you'd only just learned how to speak.

She was trembling now, her face buried in your neck, her words broken and reverent. "I've wanted this — you — for so long. You feel like everything I never let myself hope for."

You cupped her cheek, eyes glassy as you whispered, "Then take it. Take me."

Melissa met your gaze, something blazing and tender in hers. "Come with me," she said, forehead pressed to yours, her voice low and ragged. "Let me have all of you."

And then you were gone — together, lost in the same wave, clinging to each other like the world narrowed to just this: breath and touch and everything that had ever simmered beneath the surface finally breaking free.

When it was over, you collapsed into each other, tangled and shaking, her hand finding yours between your bodies and squeezing tight.

You stayed there like that — skin to skin, heart to heart — until your breaths slowed and your smiles returned.

Melissa kissed your temple, still a little dazed. "So... karaoke nights. We should do those more often."

You laughed, soft and breathless. "Only if they always end like this."

She grinned. "You've got yourself a deal, sweetheart."

[doodlebugdpj]

I NEED A FANFIC!

Thinking about an AU where Lenore Dove DID manage to survive up to seeing Katniss and Peeta and what that would mean and driving myself a little crazy in the process

[winged-self-indulgence]

I am late to the party but I come bearing a fic! RIP I wanted this to be 100% fluffy but alas I am still very much mulling over that video essay and the angst came swooping in lmao.

You were avoiding him.

That was what Ray thought anyway, but it wasn’t as if anyone would be able to blame him for coming to that conclusion. You hadn’t been by his apartment in several days, and when he tried to drop by your place instead, you’d been visibly on edge. Kept him at the door until you couldn’t justify that, and then kept him standing in the living room until your phone alarm chimed to alert you that it was time for your afternoon shift.

Ray had offered to walk you to work, and oddly you’d calmed down once the two of you were out on the streets. You’d even looped your arm through his elbow to point out a pair of crows playing hopscotch on the telephone wires. It was a game you’d started a few weeks ago, every day he had to try and find at least three things that made him smile (outside of seeing you, of course). It was your way of trying to encourage him to take in the smaller joys.

It was a cute attempt. Nowadays your text-logs were randomly interspersed with silly memes, random animals, pictures of weird desserts you wanted to try, and a lot of music. His favourites were the romantic ballads.

You weren’t cheating on him, he knew that. Even without his mind-reading abilities – “sorry Star, I am trying to curb it, but it’s been a habit for over a decade cut me some slack!” – you weren’t that kind of person. He wouldn’t have become so obsessed with you, or fallen in love with you, if you were.

Maybe you were tired of him and wanted to break up?

At work, Ray snapped the monster’s neck with one hand, his mind snagging on sharp brambles. The possibility of it stung like thorns, the possibility of you getting tired of the possessiveness, the depressive spirals, the inherent danger of being with him. Ray did not labour under false impressions or illusions of peace, he knew being with him painted a massive target on you and that one of the people holding the gun was him. Every so often he still woke up in a cold sweat, his mind filled with red fire, black smoke, and your charred body dead at his hands. All because he couldn’t just love you like a normal man.

Pensive, he tossed one monster away and absentmindedly sliced another in half with his heat-ray vision. He considered asking you outright what was wrong. That was what all the advice groups said. Communication is key, everyone loved to repeat that. Just talk to them! Well had those people considered that communication was fucking scary? That opening your heart up to someone who could easily reach in and rip it out – bloody and beating and dying – was absolutely terrifying? Huh? Yeah, didn’t think so.

The last of the monsters disintegrated into ash under white-hot flames, and Ray barely had a moment to breathe before he was swarmed by news crews. Years of PR training helped him bite back the sneer. Rats crawling out of the cracks and crevices, waiting for the danger to die down so they could pick at him. Or wait, you’d encouraged him not to overgeneralize. Some of them were filthy parasites looking for a clickbait soundbite, but others were reputable media groups simply trying to spread information to civilians. And now that the NAHA couldn’t control him, he was free to ignore the stupid questions about his fitness regimen or hair-care routine and answer actual questions like “any insight into the alien’s physiology? How can regular people keep themselves safe in the event of an attack? What do you think of NAHA’s frequent refusal to pay insurance to those who lost their lives and homes after villain attacks?”

Any chance to badmouth the NAHA was a win in his book. He pulled out his phone to text you, only to see he already had a text from you.

Rayyyyyyyyy!!!!!! (Followed by a truly embarrassing number and variety of heart emojis) Happy Birthdayyyyy!!!! I’m at your apartment with a surprise!!!!! (Insert even more emojis here, along with a sticker of a cat blowing a kiss)

God you were so fucking cute. Ray took off without a second glance, ignoring the journalists on the ground. He made it back to his apartment in less than a minute and was barely in the door when you launched yourself into his arms.

“Happy birthday!” You cheered.

“I don’t know if it counts as a surprise if you tell me over text, Star,” he replied, smiling down at you. Then he took in the decorations, the balloons, the gold stars you’d strung on the walls, and the warm smell of cake baking in the oven. You must have taken the day off work and run back to his apartment to do all this.

“It absolutely counts! Were you or were you not surprised?” You stepped back, pulling him along. Then you paused, turned back, and pulled off his mask. You had to go on tiptoe to run your fingers through his hair, pulling out the hair-tie and mussing it up. Satisfied, you smooched the bridge of his nose with a loud, exaggerated noise. “There. There’s my sweet baby Ray.”

In the past, Ray had always rolled his eyes at romance writers who described love in terms of being shot, whether by arrows or bullets. Now though, now he understood. Every time you kissed him or called him silly pet-names, he felt like someone had put a gun to his sternum and shot him point-blank in the heart. It felt like dying and being devoured in the best way possible.

Then his brain caught up to your words and he groaned. “Star, I love you, but can you please call me something else that isn’t barbecue sauce?”

“What’s wrong with that?” You teased, grinning playfully. “Everyone loves the taste of BBQ sauce. I sure do!”

“Oh?” He tilted his head, a dark heat shadowing his eyes. Before you could consider the implications of your words, he tossed you over his shoulder and began marching to the bedroom. “Then I'll be sure to give you as much as you like.”

“Huh? Wait, Ray the cake–! The cake!”

[animusrox]

TOP 10

Past Lives

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

How to Blow Up a Pipeline

Poor Things

Oppenheimer

Barbie

BlackBerry

The Holdovers

The Iron Claw

Killers of the Flower Moon

MY LETTERBOXD Grade A 11.    The Killer 12.    Beau Is Afraid 13.    Dream Scenario 14.    Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 15.    Godzilla Minus One 16.    American Fiction 17.    They Cloned Tyrone 18.     Evil Dead Rise 19.    Eileen 20.    The Artifice Girl 21.   Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem 22.    Talk to Me 23.    Reality 24.    Leave the World Behind 25.    A Thousand and One 26.    Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One 27.    Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. 28.    Theater Camp 29.   Carmen 30.    Merry Little Batman 31.    Priscilla 32.    Society of the Snow 33.    Infinity Pool 34.    Enys Men 35.    Sanctuary 36.    Rye Lane 37.    Skinamarink 38.    Monster 39.    Anatomy of a Fall 40.    Landscape with Invisible Hand 41.    Reptile 42.    Sisu 43.    Pinball: The Man Who Saved the Game 44.    No One Will Save You 45.    Tetris 46.    May December 47.    The Zone of Interest 48.    V/H/S/85 49.    Dumb Money 50.    El Conde 51.    Arnold 52.    Maestro 53.    Napoleon 54.    20 Days in Mariupol 55.    Influencer 56.    The Creator 57.    Origin 58.    Thanksgiving 59.    Next Goal Wins 60.    The Boy and the Heron 61.    Bottoms 62.    Wonka

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Grade B

63.   God Is a Bullet 64.    No Hard Feelings 65.    Joy Ride 66.    Fair Play 67.     Cocaine Bear 68.    NYAD 69.    Asteroid City 70.    Nowhere 71.    The Angry Black Girl and Her Monster 72.    Divinity 73.    The Equalizer 3 74.    The Last Voyage of the Demeter 75.    Venus 76.    Butcher’s Crossing 77.    Somewhere in Queens 78.    The Persian Version 79.    Boston Strangler 80.    Polite Society 81.    Miguel Wants to Fight 82.    The Color Purple 83.    The Royal Hotel 84.    Saw X 85.    All of Us Strangers 86.    Fallen Leaves 87.    Ferrari 88.    Elemental 89.    Peter Pan & Wendy 90.    Renfield 91.    Cat Person 92.    Scream VI 93.    The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes 94.    BS High 95.    Blue Beetle 96.    Huesera: The Bone Woman 97.    When Evil Lurks 98.    Dark Harvest 99.    A Good Person 100.    Final Cut 101.    Knock at the Cabin 102.    Quiz Lady 103.    Leo 104.    Air 105.    The Super Mario Bros. Movie 106.    Batman: The Doom That Came to Gotham 107.    John Wick: Chapter 4 108.    Beaten to Death 109.    The Wrath of Becky 110.    Passages 111.    Transformers: Rise of the Beasts 112.    Gran Turismo 113.    65 114.    Sick 115.    Sister Death 116.    The Blackening 117.    Please Don’t Destroy: The Treasure of Foggy Mountain 118.    Flamin’ Hot 119.    Nimona 120.    Cobweb 121.    Totally Killer 122.    What’s Love Got to Do with It? 123.     Sharper 124.    Unseen 125.    Dunki 126.    Bird Box Barcelona 127.    The Marvels 128.    Shazam! Fury of the Gods

Grade C

129.   Wildflower 130.    Freelance 131.    M3GAN 132.    Strays 133.    Sympathy for the Devil 134.    Creed III 135.    Chevalier 136.    The Marsh King’s Daughter 137.    A Haunting in Venice 138.    The Little Mermaid 139.    Silent Night 140.    Master Gardener 141.    The Flash 142.    Fast X 143.    The Pope’s Exorcist 144.    Saltburn 145.    Kandahar 146.    Stand 147.    Plane 148.   Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny 149.    Fingernails 150.    Quicksand 151.    Fool’s Paradise 152.    Migration 153.    Rustin 154.    The Covenant 155.    Good Burger 2 156.    The Pod Generation 157.    Alice, Darling 158.    Insidious: The Red Door 159.    Missing 160.    Shotgun Wedding 161.    You Hurt My Feelings 162.    The Boogeyman 163.    Showing Up 164.    Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom 165.    Champions 166.    Consecration 167.    The Nun II 168.    Biosphere 169.    House Party 170.    The Exorcist: Believer 171.    Big George Foreman 172.    Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves 173.    Children of the Corn 174.    The Beanie Bubble 175.    Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania

Grade F

176.    Anyone But You 177.    Marlowe 178.    Paint 179.    Extraction 2 180.    It Lives Inside 181.    Deliver Us 182.    Trolls Band Together 183.    Finestkind 184.    Corner Office 185.    Wish 186.    Prisoner’s Daughter 187.    Pain Hustlers 188.    Foe 189.    The Mother 190.    Old Dads 191.    Ghosted 192.    Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken 193.    Haunted Mansion 194.    Mafia Mamma 195.    Five Nights at Freddy’s 196.    The Machine 197.    Justice League: Warworld 198.    We Have a Ghost 199.    What Comes Around 200.    Legion of Super-Heroes 201.    The Boys in the Boat 202.    Attachment 203.    Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre 204.    About My Father 205.    You People 206.    Meg 2: The Trench 207.    Pathaan 208.    Rebel Moon - Part One: A Child of Fire 209.    Assassin 210.    Dalíland 211.    Vacation Friends 2

Bottom 10

212.    Sound of Freedom 213.    Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey 214.    When You Finish Saving The World 215.    Heart of Stone 216.    Family Switch 217.    Expend4bles 218.    Sweetwater 219.    Hypnotic 220.    80 for Brady 221.    Spinning Gold