#this time on saturdays and maybe tuesdays could be good

[reynaruina]

oddly intimate

[traveler-at-heart]

The Doctor's In - Part 3

Summary: Wanda gets a little jealous and you're in trooouublee.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R, Carol Danvers x F!R.

A/N: Part 1 & 2 are recent, so you can find them on my blog. Sorry I'm tired and lazy to link them. Will do that later lol.

Coffee in an IV, that’s what you need. However, drinking it is the next best thing so you get one from the cafeteria and give the other cup to Darcy, who’s yawning in one of the stretchers that people leave in the hallway.

“Bless you”

You hum in acknowledgment, sitting next to her.

“Duty or booty?” she asks when your phone pings.

“Ha, good one. You should do stand up” you say, ignoring her.

“So, it is a booty call” Darcy insists when you begin typing, a smile on your face.

“It’s not. My neighbour was telling me something about her children. You remember them, the Maximoffs”

“The broken arm?” you nod, sipping from your cup. “Ok, so now you text her about her children? To get into her pants?”

“No! Not everything is about sex, Darcy”

“If you really think about it, it kinda is. And you still haven’t told me why she’s texting you”

“I took care of the twins the other day, when she went out on a blind date. With a man” you give her a pointed look. “And I showed them a videogame I loved when I was kid, and apparently helped to create a new obsession”

“Which one? Lara Croft?”

“Spyro”

“The purple dragon? You are such a dork” she says, scrunching up her face. You roll your eyes, ready to give her the middle finger when her pager goes off.

“Karma” you cough up and she glares.

“This conversation is not over!” she threatens, leaving you alone.

You look at the chat with Wanda.

Wanda: They both want to be Spyro for Halloween!

Y/N: Sounds cute! They could have a little Sparks floating around on their shoulder.

Wanda: It’s all they talk about every day, I swear I’m dreaming about dragons.

Y/N: Sorry?

Y/N: I do have a plan to make it up to you.

—

You’re done with the coffee, at least if you want to get some rest. Still, you pick up a latte and a scone for Wanda, and carry the new videogame as you knock on the woman’s door.

“Oh, hi!” she looks at you, confused.

“Hey. Sorry, I don’t know how you take your coffee. It’s a latte, dairy free” you hand over the cup and the scone. “And I have something for the twins”

“That’s so sweet, but they’re at school”

“Today’s not Saturday?” you say, confused. Wanda giggles at that, making you blush.

“Today is Tuesday. Come on in”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, I’m sorry” you say, following her to the kitchen.

“I don’t have to be at work for another hour, so it’s fine” she assures you. “Plus you saved me a trip to the coffee shop”

“You know, I’ve never asked about what you do for a living” you say apologetically, only now realising that you’ve barely interacted with Wanda since you moved here.

“I’m an author and illustrator” she says.

“That’s so cool! Anything I’ve read?”

“Only if you like children’s books” the woman smiles.

“Can’t say that I have read any lately. But that’s awesome. I’m a little starstruck, I’ve never met a writer before”

Wanda laughs at that, and you blush a little.

“Oh, before I forget. Maybe this will distract them from dragons” you hand over the new videogame and Wanda arches an eyebrow.

“The solution to a videogame is another videogame?” she says with her mom voice.

“Uh… yes? It’s Crash. It’s really funny. Sorry, it was dumb, forget it” you begin to regret it, reaching for the box, but Wanda does the same thing, her hand landing on yours.

“I’m kidding. It’s very sweet of you, Y/N”

The way she says your name is almost hypnotic, and once again your eyes travel to her lips.

For the first time, you’re willing to admit that it wasn’t the alcohol that made you wanna kiss Wanda.

Still, your hands are touching and you want to lean forward.

Your phone interrupts the moment, and you apologize, thinking it might be from the hospital.

Carol: I’m outside your house :)

What?

“Work?” Wanda says when you frown.

“I’m not sure… I should get home. Sorry”

“I’ll walk you out. If you want to come by for dinner and show the boys the new game, you’re more than welcomed” she offers.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun. I’ll text you later” you promise, waving the woman goodbye.

Carol is leaning against her motorcycle, and she does a double take when you walk out of the house across the street.

“Did I get the wrong house?”

“No” you laugh. “I was at my neighbour’s, I got something for her kids”

“That’s very thoughtful” Carol holds your hand, and you try not to blush at the sudden contact.

“So, what’s up?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to come to my place tonight. I’ll cook something nice, we’ll have a lot of sex and you won’t have to hold back those pretty moans of yours”

“Such a romantic, Danvers” you roll your eyes, but smile nonetheless. “I’m in”

“Alright. See you tonight” Carol says, kissing you. That’s another thing that takes you by surprise, and you don’t know what’s gotten into her.

Walking inside your home, you open the fridge and it doesn’t hit you until you see Billy’s drawing.

You told Wanda you’d be there for dinner.

Crap.

It feels cheap to cancel over what is esentially a -very tempting- booty call, but you’re also aware that you might be thinking too much of yourself. The truth is, Wanda probably doesn’t give a crap about whether or not her workaholic neighbour comes to dinner.

A few hours later, when you’re still thinking of a way to politely reschedule, you get a text from Wanda.

Wanda: I forgot we had a thing with friends from school. Maybe some other time?

Y/N: Yeah, no worries!

You try to ignore the disappointment you feel over not seeing Wanda again, focusing on the night ahead.

Here were the facts:

Wanda dated men, obviously.

Darcy would kick your ass if she even suspected you had a crush on your straight neighbour.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s what is happening.

—

“I hope you like parmesan chicken” Carol says, as you look around her apartment. The decoration is very modern and you admire the collection of books she has. You’re more of an online article person, but right now you’re reconsidering your stance.

“Smells great” you comment, opening the bottle of white wine you brought. You hop on her kitchen counter, watching as she finishes the food.

“So, what did your neighbours say about that thing you got them?”

“I don’t know, they were at school, but maybe I’ll stop by tomorrow”

Or maybe not, considering you’re developing a crush on their beautiful mother.

“I didn’t know you liked kids so much” she comments and you shrug your shoulders.

“I mean, I’m ok with kids, but these two are really sweet and nice. One of them was at the hospital recently, he broke his arm”

“Really? And how come I didn’t hear of it?” Carol raises her eyebrows, always on top of everything that happens at her department.

“Relax, Ortho Goddess. I drove them there and took care of everything, your intern just helped with the cast” you take a sip of your wine. “I don’t even know if you were at the hospital”

“So, no dad?”

You shrug your shoulders, a bit impatient. You were hoping to push Wanda out of your mind, and Carol kept on bringing her up.

“I’m not sure what happened, if there’s a father in the picture or not… but enough about this. How’s the grant application?”

“It’s hell. But I’m glad Kamala is so committed, I’d go nuts without her”

“Must be nice, to have an intern like that” you say, thinking about the rotation of doctors you get. They’re helpful, but none of them stay long enough to understand the logistics of an ER.

“No more chat about work” Carol proclaims and you laugh.

“Oh, what else can we talk about?“

“You’re right. Maybe we shouldn’t talk at all”  she pretends to think about it, standing between your legs. Your laugh is cut off by her lips on yours, moving impatiently until you let her explore your mouth with her tongue.

“Food’s gonna get cold”

“We’ll heat it up” Carol says, pulling your legs around her waist and carrying you across the apartment. “Let me show you the bedroom”

“We’re skipping the rest of the tour?”

“No, we’re definitely having sex in the shower” Carol says, making you laugh.

As her kissing becomes frantic, and you lose yourself in the feeling of skin against skin, for a brief moment, you forget those green eyes and auburn hair.

—

The rest of the week goes by in a blur. An accident in the highway keeps you locked in the hospital for 48 hours straight, and all you can manage is sleep and shower between surgeries.

You get to be for eight hours at home before returning for a day and a half shift. The only thing in your mind as you finally get in the car is working out, because you’ve seen horrible situations for the past four days and need to be so exhausted that you’ll pass out as soon as your head hits the pillow.

You go out in a sports bra and shorts, hoping the exercise helps with all the stress. After a good thirty minutes, you return home, sweating and panting.

You turn to the garden hose to pour some water on your face and neck, when you hear someone cursing and something falling.

“You ok?” you run to Wanda, trying to get her garbage can back up.

“Yeah, thanks” she says, looking anywhere but you. “Busy lately?”

“God, you have no idea” you sigh, crossing your arms. “Heard about that crash in the highway? We had like twelve people come in”

“That’s horrible” Wanda says, finally looking at you.

��It’s the job I guess. How are you? And the twins? Did they like the game?”

“Oh, they actually haven’t had…”

You hear a motorcycle pulling up and have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. What’s Carol’s game? The blonde eyes you, and you want to smack that smug grin off her face.

“Sorry, you were saying” you ignore her, turning back to Wanda.

“It’s not important, I have to get back and make dinner” she says, saying goodbye as fast as possible. You turn back home, feeling dejected.

“Was I interrupting?” Carol asks.

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

“I don’t think you notice the way she’s looking at you, Y/N” she insists as you both step inside your house.

“Wanda? Don’t be ridiculous, she’s just my neighbour”

Your perfect, funny, beautiful neighbour who has her life together and no time to entertain a workaholic like you.

“And last time I checked, we weren’t exclusive” you add.

“Why are you trying to pick a fight with me?” she smiles, cornering you against the wall.

“Because, I don’t know what’s up with you, having me over and then showing up out of the blue. It’s very… couple-y”

“Is that so?” she leans forward, her lips barely touching yours.

“Y-yes”

“Maybe I just had a bad week, and I know for a fact you did too. So we can take a bath together, have some pizza and then fuck each other’s brains out”

This time, her lips do actually meet yours and inspite of everything, you give into the kiss.

“Unless you wanna invite your neighbour over to join us, which I’m definitely not against”

“Ugh, you’re such an ass” you break apart, rolling your eyes and going upstairs, laughing with Carol as she follows you eagerly.

—

They’ll have to move. That’s the only way to escape.

Wanda closes the door, leaning against it, hoping that the image of you, walking in those sinful clothes disappears from her mind.

Of course she had to make a fool of herself, dropping the garbage and attracting your attention.

If only she had gone out earlier, Wanda could have saved herself the trouble of witnessing that mysterious woman, who was very obviously your girlfriend, looking at you like you were an entire meal.

What if she moves in with you? What if Wanda has to see you everyday, kissing the blonde goodbye or hanging around or…?

“Mom” Tommy calls for her, and she has to pull herself together.

“Yes, sweetheart” she forces a smile, looking at her son.

“What are we having for dinner?”

“Well, I was thinking some mac and cheese”

And then, she’ll drown her sorrows in a bottle of cheap wine. Hopefully she’ll dream of you, sweaty and having your way with Wanda.

—

There’s an unfamiliar weight as you wake up, and as you turn, you look at Carol’s disheveled state.

“Blanket thief” you accuse.

“Shhh”

“Gotta pee”

“No, five more minutes” she pleads, nuzzling against your neck.

“What? Too tired after last night?” you taunt, remembering how she seemed to be insatiable and only stopped when you were too sensitive.

“Well, yeah. I rocked your world. Where’s my reward?”

“I can offer you coffee and scrambled eggs”

“Your fridge was empty, remember?”

“Oh. In that case, coffee and breakfast somewhere nice”

“Deal” she kisses your shoulder, moving to get her clothes.

“I can’t believe we have to be back in three hours” you complain, stretching. The sheet falls, leaving your entire body in full display.

“Maybe we can have something else for breakfast” Carol says, pulling you back down.

After another hour, you finally go down the stairs. You’re arguing over taking her motorcycle or your car when you hear voices outside.

Billy and Tommy are looking curiously at the motorcycle, touching the handle.

“Hey, kiddos” you greet, and they turn around, scared at being caught.

“Wanna get on it?” Carol offers and they nod excitedly.

Carol is busy showing them how it works when the front door opens, Wanda calling for the twins.

“You know you can’t leave the house like that. I am so sorry” she turns to you, but Carol is the one who answers.

“It’s no problem, really”

Wanda gives the blonde a tight smile.

“Come on, let’s get back inside”

“Oh, how long has he had the cast?” Carol says.

“Like a year” Billy says and you laugh, ruffling his hair.

“3 weeks?” you turn to Wanda.

“It’s actually 4. I meant to ask you when is he supposed to get it off”

“Come by the hospital and we’ll take a look. Children’s bones heal faster” Carol says, and it’s very obvious now that she’s inserting herself in the conversation so Wanda acknowledges she’s with you.

“Sure. I’ll text Y/N later”

“Great. I’ll make time to personally check Billy, did I get it right?” Carol turns to the kid and he nods.

“Well, Y/N has been his doctor, so I don’t think that’s necessary” Wanda pushes back, crossing her arms. All you do is look between them.

“Oh, we can both check it out if it makes you more comfortable, after all I am the head of Orthopedic Surgery”

“I thought you didn’t date other surgeons” Wanda turns, and you can finally get a glimpse of how scary she must be when one of the twins disobbeys her. She’s smiling, but her eyes tell a different story.

“I… well…” you mumble like an idiot.

“Time to go, or we won’t eat breakfast. Come on, I’m starving after last night” Carol takes your hand, pulling you away from Wanda.

You’d rather be doing an enema on a patient than witnessing this weird tug-a-war they have going on.

“Come on, boys” Wanda takes them back home, and Carol waves innocently at her.

“Seriously?” you say, ripping out the extra helmet from her hands.

“What? I was just messing with her. Come on, princess. Hold on tight”

Carol revs the engine loudly, leaving your driveway with a smile on her face.

She has the better sense to drop the subject during breakfast, picking out a small diner close to the hospital.

On the other hand, you are unable to stop thinking about everything that happened and, against your better judgement, do something that you’ll clearly regret.

You tell Darcy.

“Wait, wait, wait!” she says, holding her sides. “Your situationship and the MILF next door were fighting over you?”

“It’s not funny” you say, resisting the urge to choke her with her stethoscope.

“It so is. Girl, you gotta pick a struggle”

“You’re useless” you complain.

“No, ok, hear me out” she takes a deep breath, wiping away the tears and looking at you. “So, on one hand, you have a thing with Danvers. Do you really think she got over Rambeau already?”

“Of course not! Which is why I was fine with it being just sex. She’s the one who started doing other weird, couple stuff”

You weren’t an idiot; Carol and Maria had been together for years, and engaged until Maria left to work with Doctors Without Borders. Thought you didn’t know why they split up, it was fairly obvious that they were too proud to talk it out, but they still loved each other.

“Exactly. So, let’s say you start seeing Danvers more seriously, and then Maria comes back. You’re…”

“Fucked” you nod along, starting to understand Darcy’s point.

“On the other hand, you have the hot mom. According to you, she dates men. We have no clue if the father of her children is dead, missing, crazy… Maybe he'll come back eventually”

“And I’m fucked again” you rub your eyes, frustrated. “All I wanted was a way to destress. This is the exact opposite”

“I guess you’re very charming” Darcy shrugs her shoulders, and you’re about to thank her when she adds. “Or stupid”

In spite of everything, her words hold some truth. As you see patients and take care of the ER, you think of a way to fix everything.

Then, your phone pings and dread invades you.

Wanda: We’re in the foyer.

Fuck it, you’ll make sure you get to them before Carol and send them home before they get into another weird ass argument.

You run to find the Maximoffs, taking Billy to get an X-Ray.

“It’s urgent” you tell the technician.

But Carol is three steps ahead of you, because she asked to be informed of any patients that came to get X-Rays over cast removals.

So, by the time you and Billy come back, Wanda and Tommy are in the room, while Carol confirms Billy’s arm is completely healed.

“Hey, thank you for getting that X-Ray” Carol says with a smile and you curse to yourself.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Come on, kiddo, let’s get your arm back” you bring him to the bed, where Kamala prepares to do the removal. Carol forgets her little feud with Wanda for a moment, reminding her resident how to do the procedure.

“Is that a saw?” Wanda says, pale.

“Yes, I know it looks scary but it’s perfectly safe, I promise” you say, holding on to her arm. She looks at you, nodding and you smile, letting your hand drop to her back, rubbing slowly to calm her down. Wanda leans into the touch, her shoulders relaxing.

It’s so easy, to reach out for her.

Carol doesn’t miss the contact, but keeps on observing as Kamala cuts the cast.

Billy moves his arm tentatively.

“It might be weird at first. Try to take it easy the first few days” you say and Billy nods, keeping the cast with all stickers and drawings from his friends.

“That’s pretty much it” Carol says, removing her gloves. “If you have any questions…”

“I’ll call Y/N. Thank you” Wanda cuts off.

“Mom, we should celebrate!” Billy says. “Can Y/N come over?”

“That would be fun…” you begin to say.

“Oh, sweetheart. Y/N is very busy” Wanda speaks over you. She’s not even looking your way and you hate to admit it, it kinda hurts.

“No more running down the stairs, buddy” you say, opening the door for them. The three walk out, Tommy and Billy waving goodbye.

Carol goes after you the minute you leave the room.

“What the hell was that?”

“Excuse me?”

“The touching and the love eyes” she insists.

“You’re the one that made it weird to begin with, Carol” you say, feeling a headache approaching.

“Well, yeah. We have this thing going on and you act like you’re in love with someone else”

“Now hold on” you stop in the middle of the hallway, pointing a finger to her chest. “You and I agreed it was just sex. We don’t talk about the massive elephant in the room because frankly, it’s none of my business. But be honest. If Maria came back right now, would you not to want to be with her?”

Carol takes a step back. This is the first time you’ve seen her speechless.

“I don’t know. Maybe. If she came back, I… she would come first. But that’s just hypothetical”

“No, it isn’t. Because she is right there, Carol”

You point behind her, watching as Maria Rambeau, former head of Pediatric Surgery is talking to Chief Fury.

Carol turns her head so fast you’re shocked she didn’t snap something.

The look of adoration, longing and sorrow in her eyes tells you everything you need to know.

“Go” you smile, squeezing her arm. “You should always go after what you want, Danvers”

She nods, still too shocked to move.

You’ll let them have their reunion in private and will use the rest of your shift to mope about Wanda.

“Go home” Fury says when you stick around long after your shift. “Sorry about Danvers”

“Sir, you knew?”

“I know everything” he shrugs his shoulders and you can’t help but smile.

Of course, Carol drove you here so you take a cab home, which is fine. You’re too tired and distracted to drive anyway.

Truth is, you’re not sad about Carol. The only thing you can think about is Wanda and how she left without so much as a look in your direction.

“This the place?” the driver says and you snap out of it, handing him the money and some extra. “Sweet, thanks. Have a good night”

“You too, man”

After a shower, and eating pizza leftovers, you’re still thinking about Wanda. As you sip from your beer, and look at the tv without paying attention, someone knocks at the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Wanda”

You jump from the couch, spilling some of the beer on your pants.

“Sorry, if it’s a bad time I’ll come back later”

“No, wait” you run to the door, opening and looking ashamed. “I spilled beer on myself. I seem to do that a lot when you’re around”

“I should have texted, I’m sorry”

“No, you can come over whenever you want. Is everything ok, are you ok?”

“Well, no” she runs her hands through her hair, and starts ranting. “I came to apologize, I was so rude to you, and I have absolutely no right to be. You have been nothing but nice, helpful and kind and I… I was a total bitch”

“Hey, hey, stop it” you take her hand, pulling her inside. “Wanda, it’s fine, I get it. I’m not mad at you”

“You have every right to be” Wanda insists, and you can see she’s spiraling, so you pull her against you, hugging her.

“I’m here. Not going anywhere”, you say against her shoulder. You only let go when you feel Wanda’s breathing going back to normal. You take a step back, your hands dropping to her waist. “Want some pizza and beer?”

“Uh… that sounds good, yeah. Can we sit on your kitchen? That way I can look out the window, just in case the twins wake up”

“Yeah, come on” you take her hand, closing the door as she enters your place.

You stay silent as you warm a slice of pizza and get another beer for you, offering her a bottle.

“I don’t think I’ve drank beer since college” she says, smiling.

“Only fancy wine?” you joke, taking a seat next to her.

“Not even that these days. Listen… I really am sorry and though it may not seem like it, I’m happy for you and Doctor Danvers”

“Oh, that’s not a thing” you interrupt her.

“Was it something I did?” she says, looking mortified.

“No, it was just… uh, never serious. I think she might be fixing things with her ex so that’s the end” you explain, removing the label of your bottle.

“Are you ok?” Wanda reaches for your hand and you blush.

Yeah, I’m ok because you’re here now.

“I am, it wasn’t serious. Honestly, it was just sex”

“Oh” Wanda blushes, and removes her hand from yours, taking a large gulp of her beer.

“I mean, we all have needs, wouldn’t you agree?” you tease, leaning forward as if you’re telling her a secret.

“I suppose so, yeah” Wanda gets lost in your eyes, hoping you close the distance.

And you want to, you really do, but Wanda gave you a hard time and you might make her sweat a little before giving in.

So, you lean back on your chair, smiling mischeviously at the other woman.

“How’s Billy? Happy to be cast free?”

“Yeah, he’s excited about getting to play that dragon game you gave them from the start”

“I guess Crash wasn’t good enough to replace Spyro” you say, understanding the twins. You always had a soft spot for the latter.

“Actually… I didn’t give them the other game” Wanda admits, chewing her lip nervously.

“Why?”

“To be honest, I wanted you to give it to them so I could… I don’t know, have an excuse to see you again”

As Wanda admits her reasoning, red invades her cheeks. Your heart skips a beat at the sweet admission, and you stand up, walking to where she’s sitting.

“You don’t ever need an excuse to talk to me”

“No?” she says, fidgeting wih her bottle.

“You can text me, call me, fax me, page me. I’ll give you my email so you have that option as well” you say, making Wanda laugh.

“I just don’t know what to talk about sometimes, I get nervous”

“Well, we could talk about the weather, how inflation is crazy high… you could tell me about the Scarlet Witch”

“You looked up one of my books?” Wanda says, blushing.

“Yeah, I have it, ready to get an autograph from the author herself”

Wanda blushes even more at that, chewing on her bottom lip. You take another teeny, tiny step towards her, eyes going to her lips.

“Or, we could not talk. There’s plenty one can do without verbal communication. Like bird watching”

“Crossword puzzles” Wanda jokes, following along.

“Kissing” you say, leaning forward until you’re inches apart. You let her decide if she wants to close the distance, and Wanda does, her lips tentatively moving against yours.

She tastes like vanilla and you sigh against her mouth, pulling her close to you.

It’s everything you imagined and more, her pretty sighs spurring you on until your hands go down her sides, and to her waist.

At the movement, Wanda breaks the kiss, making you whine.

“Is this… do you want this to be just sex?”

“You deserve more than that”

Yes, the thought of Wanda naked, moaning your name make you weak in the knees, but you also want to bring her coffee and have lunch together.

“So, does that mean…?”

“Go out on a date with me” you blurt out, trying to catch your breath.

“Yes” she nods, pulling you in for another kiss. This time, you’re not so sure you’ll be able to resist the urge of worshipping her body right in the middle of your kitchen, for all the nighbourhood to watch. “I should go”

“You only just got here” you complain, kissing down her neck.

“And if I stay, you won’t get your beauty sleep”

“Sleep is overrated” you mumble, biting down her neck playfully.

“Ok!” she holds back a moan, jumping as if your touch burns her.

“Did I hurt you?” you say, worried.

“No, it wasn’t pain that I felt” Wanda admits, turning red.

“I’ll behave” you raise your hands and Wanda steps back, not sure that she believes you. “How about next Thursday?”

“That can work, yeah. Let me just check with the nanny”

She walks to the door, lips slightly swollen.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you before that, though”

“Right, because I live across the street”

“And I might need to borrow some sugar” you joke, leaning forward to open the door, trapping Wanda’s body. “Or other stuff”

“I should go”

“You sure?”

“Yes” the woman nods, biting down her lip. Still, she pecks your lips one last time, and takes advantage of how flustered you get to walk out the door.

“Text me when you’re home” you joke, making her giggle. Still, you don’t get inside until she opens her own door, waving at you one last time.

You take your phone, reading a lenghty text from Carol saying she was really sorry about everything. And then another one comes in.

Wanda: I’m home.

Y/N: Come back.

Wanda: I wish.

Wanda: Night, Y/N

Y/N: Night, Wands.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Matchmaker

Summary: JJ tries to set Spencer up with Henry's pediatrician.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x pediatrician fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: none!

Word count: 1.1k

a/n: gonna grab his cute little face and smooooochhhhhh

btw i will be posting on tuesday's and friday's because they won the poll but this is a bonus thursday post because i'm hungover and want spencer's love

main masterlist

“Hey, Spence!” JJ called out as she strolled into the bullpen, her bright smile making Spencer look up from the file he was reviewing.

“What’s up, JJ?” Spencer replied, adjusting his glasses and setting the file aside to give her his full attention.

“So, I was thinking…” JJ began, her tone light and playful, but before she could finish, Emily chimed in from across the room, a grin spreading across her face.

“Well, that’s never good,” Emily chuckled, earning an amused roll of the eyes from JJ.

“Love you too, Em,” JJ shot back, her voice dripping with mock sarcasm before she refocused on Spencer. “Anyway, as I was saying, I was thinking, you’d be a really good match for Henry’s pediatrician.”

Spencer blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting the conversation to take this turn. “Ohhh, what’s she like? Super brainiac nerd?” Emily teased, wiggling her eyebrows at Spencer, who scoffed lightly.

“Rude,” Spencer shot back with a half-smile before turning back to JJ, his expression softening. “And uh, that’s nice of you, JJ… but I’m not really looking to be set up.”

JJ, undeterred, leaned against Spencer’s desk, her eyes sparkling with that familiar mix of determination and affection. “Oh, come on, just meet her. She’s the best! I know you guys will click.”

Spencer’s smile faded slightly as he considered her words, his brow furrowing in thought. After a moment, he sighed, his tone gentle but resolute. “Sorry, JJ. I’m not interested. It’s sweet of you to think about me, though.”

Spencer assumed that was the end of the conversation, especially since JJ didn’t bring up the mystery woman again in the days that followed. He thought he was in the clear, believing that JJ had respected his decision. Little did he know, JJ wasn’t one to give up so easily, especially when she believed she was doing something good for someone she cared about.

—

“Hey, babe,” you greeted Spencer when he answered the phone, your voice warm and light, immediately bringing a smile to his face.

“Hi,” he replied, and even through the phone, you could hear the smile in his voice, the simple greeting filling you with that familiar warmth.

You and Spencer had only been seeing each other for about six weeks, but those six weeks had been transformative—arguably the best of both of your adult lives. Every moment spent together seemed to be a little brighter, a little more meaningful, as if you had both found something truly special.

“What’s up?” you asked, settling into a comfortable spot on your couch, your curiosity piqued by the call.

“Well,” Spencer began, his voice carrying a note of hopeful anticipation, “I was going to see if you would want to hang out Friday night. We could watch that movie I was telling you about.”

A smile spread across your face, touched by his thoughtfulness, but a twinge of regret quickly followed. “Awe, Spence. I’d love to, but my friend actually invited me out that night. I’m sorry, honey.”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, just long enough for you to wonder if he might be disappointed. But then Spencer’s voice came back, just as warm and understanding as always. “Oh, it’s okay, maybe Saturday?”

Relief washed over you, your smile returning in full force. “I can do that! Put me in your calendar, genius.”

“Will do,” Spencer said, and you could almost picture the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “I’ll see you Saturday then?”

“See you then, can’t wait,” you replied, your voice full of genuine excitement. The anticipation of spending more time with him was something you both shared, and as you ended the call, you couldn’t help but feel that familiar flutter in your chest, counting down the days until Saturday.

—

Seeing as Spencer didn’t have any plans for Friday night, it didn’t take much convincing for the team to drag him out for drinks at their usual bar. The large booth was already filled with the familiar hum of conversation and laughter as the team chatted amongst themselves, waiting for JJ to arrive. The atmosphere was relaxed, the kind that only comes from years of friendship and countless nights spent together unwinding after a long week.

When JJ finally walked in, the group greeted her with smiles and waves, but it didn’t take long for them to notice that she wasn’t alone. Following close behind her was another person, and as they got closer, Spencer’s eyes widened in disbelief. No way.

“Hey guys!” JJ greeted, her voice full of excitement. “This is my friend, Y/N! She’s Henry’s pediatrician, and she is absolutely amazing. Spencer, this is who I wanted you to meet.”

Spencer couldn’t even try to hold it in. The absurdity of the situation hit him all at once, and before he knew it, he was laughing—right in JJ’s face. It wasn’t just a chuckle, either; it was a full, genuine laugh, the kind that took him by surprise as much as it did the rest of the team.

“Reid, have some manners. What is wrong with you?” Derek’s voice cut through the laughter, laced with awkward confusion. He wasn’t used to seeing Spencer act this way, especially not when meeting someone new.

But before Spencer could even attempt to explain himself, you joined in, your own laughter bubbling up as you leaned down toward him, completely unbothered by the awkwardness. With a playful smile, you kissed Spencer on the lips, the simple, affectionate gesture leaving everyone at the table stunned. 

“Hi, baby,” you greeted him warmly, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Spencer, still grinning, managed to recover enough to return the greeting, “Hi.”

The rest of the team stared in shock, jaws practically on the floor, while JJ’s expression morphed from confusion to wide-eyed realization. “Wait… you two know each other?” she asked, her voice rising in surprise.

“Oh, we more than know each other,” you teased, taking a seat next to Spencer and intertwining your fingers with his. “I’m Spencer’s girlfriend.”

Derek’s eyes widened as he looked between the two of you. “And you didn’t tell us, pretty boy?”

Spencer shrugged, a bit sheepish but mostly amused by the whole situation. “It just… never came up.”

Emily finally broke the silence with a laugh. “Well, this is one way to find out!”

JJ groaned, burying her face in her hands for a moment before laughing along with the rest of the group. “I can’t believe I tried to set you up with someone you’re already dating!”

“It’s okay, JJ,” Spencer reassured her, still holding your hand. “At least you know that your matchmaking skills would have worked out.”

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

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[goatisbetheres]

The Penguins, Boston Bruins, Carolina Hurricanes, and Washington Capitals have already started the process of implementing optional neck protection for players, a Penguins and league source told The Athletic. The collective aim is to stock up on multiple available forms of equipment for players, at their choosing, to test during practices.

The sooner the better, several Penguins players said on Tuesday.

“Not wait until training camp,” Evgeni Malkinsaid. “Do it now. Maybe players will like, maybe not. Our choice, you know?

“But, yes, wear in practice, see what feels good. Maybe not same thing like big pad for neck. But if shirt or cover like for socks and wrists, let’s try. Not wait.”

The death of Johnson, who died after his neck was cut by a skate blade during a collision in an English league game on Saturday, sparked Penguins general manager Kyle Dubas and coach Mike Sullivan to discuss the pros and cons of bringing neck protection gear into the club’s equipment mix. Advised by members of the equipment staff on details to consider — not only comfort but also how the protective element would look on players — Dubas reached out to the league and suggested head equipment manager Jon Taglianetti inquire with manufacturers.

Currently, manufacturers offer neck guards and base layer tops that prevent or lessen the severity of cuts.

“We’re in the process right now of trying to talk to our players about some protective equipment in those vulnerable areas,” Sullivan said. He added the Penguins’ minor-league affiliates, the Wilkes-Barre/Scranton Penguins (AHL) and Wheeling Nailers (ECHL), are now required to wear a form of neck and wrist guards.

The Penguins — because Johnson was once one of their own — want to set an example that could eventually lead to neck protection becoming mandatory in the NHL. However, that would require the league and its Players’ Association to reach an agreement, which is unlikely this season.

Even procuring options for players with which to experiment sooner than later comes with challenges. Specifically, a Penguins source said, the club is having “a hard time getting stuff” because of high demand in the wake of Johnson’s death.

“Of course, we’re talking about it now,” Kris Letang said. “But there’s a reason why kids are wearing it, you know?

“There’s always going to be accidents. But if you can minimize the risk and if they can find something that’s going to be comfortable for the guys to play with, it should be an experiment.

“I don’t know how it’s going to play out. But I’d probably try something.”

Like Pettersson, Letang sat at his locker on Tuesday and found it impossible not to think about Johnson while discussing the neck protection topic. He’s proud his organization, the only one he’s known over 18 NHL seasons, is attempting to lead by example.

“But it shouldn’t just be the Penguins,” he said. “Everybody should (be) trying something.

“We all know what happened (to Johnson). We should try to prevent something like that from happening again if it can be done.”

this is so important

also this tweet

[1d1195]

Thursday

Read Tuesday and extras here | 2.8k words

From me: based on this ask/suggestion

Warnings: fluff, a bit of angst

Summary: A lot of things are back to normal. Like coffee dates, movie nights, and sharing a skin routine with Niall. But some things are a little uncharted. Like onions, bookmarks, dishes, and exes.

“What’s your favorite day of the week?” She asked.

“Friday of course,” Niall rolled his eyes. “What else would it be?”

“Saturday, obviously,” Harry stared at his friend as he brought a glass of water from the kitchen. He held it out to her. “Here, kitten.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, taking a long sip before Harry took it back from her and placed it on the coffee table in front of them. “Thursday is my favorite,” she told the pair. Harry fell into the seat beside her, his hand immediately resting on the inside of her leg, squeezing her thigh gently.

“Thursday!?” Niall’s eyebrows pinched together. “You still have a whole workday left! Why would you like Thursday?”

She shrugged. “Just... it’s a good day, you know? It’s anticipating for Friday. It’s nice.”

Harry stared at her dreamily. She could feel him look at her in her peripheral. It had been a while since someone looked at her the way he was looking at her. It hadn’t been long since they admitted they still loved each other. Only a few months. They settled back into the same normal routines they had when they dated the first time. “S’cute, love,” he squeezed her leg. “What movie are we doing tonight, Ni?”

“What number are we on?”

Harry shrugged. “Oh, I haven’t a clue. Think Mitch is keeping us on track.”

Since they started seeing one another again, she hadn’t come to one of their weekly movie nights. It made her feel better about not being overbearing and needy. But Harry invited her every week. Niall too. You don’t have to be here because of Harry. I want you here just as much as he does—maybe more because I’m ready to tie you to a chair to stay, Princess.

So finally, after countless invites, she finally caved. Not that it was hard. She was excited to be there. Their group of friends had been making their way through the Best Picture Oscar winners since the award’s beginning. It was cool to see how things changed over time, and it was really adorable to hear the way Harry talked about it. “I don’t have to stay for movie night,” she reminded Harry quietly. “If you want time with just your friends without—”

Although his mouth opened to protest, it wasn’t Harry that answered. “Princess, don’t be ridiculous,” Niall rolled his eyes. “Course we want you here. Help us pick out food.”

Niall cast his phone to the TV screen and was scrolling through the nearby places that would deliver to them in the next hour when their other friends arrived. “M’feeling pizza I think,” Harry suggested.

“Pizza it is,” Niall selected their favorite pizza place and began selecting way more pizza than seven people could ever eat.

“Make sure there’s one without onions.”

Her heart fluttered that Harry remembered that about her after all their time apart. Part of her thought about just going with it, never admitting the change in her palate. But she didn’t want to lie. “Actually,” she cleared her throat. “I like onions now,” she admitted almost shyly. Like she wasn’t allowed to change her mind.

“Y’do?” Harry blinked and turned fully toward her. A delighted smirk on his lips. It made the dimple in his left cheek pop through prominently.

She nodded. “Not sure how it happened. Think I accidentally ate something with onions in it and didn’t pick them out like a five-year-old. It actually tasted good. I like French onion soup now and everything,” she explained.

Harry’s smile grew, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead as if it was a bigger to do than it was; like winning an award or something. “I told y’that y’would like them,” he chuckled. She rolled her eyes and buried her face in his chest. “So brave,” he teased.

“Oh, shut it,” she laughed. “Did you at least warn them that I would be here?” She asked.

“Sarah is really looking forward to seeing you,” Niall once more took the lead in explaining. “She is tired of being the only girl around.”

While it wasn’t fully said, she knew Harry had been seeing a girl. In one way or another. It wasn’t a bad thing, she wasn’t judging. But Harry got exceedingly cagey about it whenever she tried to broach the subject. “What about—”

Harry squeezed her thigh again. A silent directive to stop her question. Niall smirked as Harry cut off her inquiry (and Niall’s impending quip). “Y’could bring a girl home, y’know,” Harry reminded him.

“She’ll be so jealous of our princess here,” Niall winked making her laugh. It really felt so easy. So simple. Just being back where she was supposed to be. Like nothing had changed at all. “Holding out for the one, Harold. You should know something about that,” he said knowingly and finished placing the pizza order. His phone screen disappeared from the TV, and he left the room.

She didn’t want Harry to feel like he had to hide part of his life from her. They were adults. He was allowed to see anyone he wanted. “You know...you can talk about someone you dated—”

“We didn’t date.”

“—pardon, fucked,” she smirked.

Harry rolled his eyes, his cheeks turning a shade redder than she thought he needed to turn. It didn’t bother her that Harry had a life outside of her. He was unbelievably handsome. Unbelievably sweet. He deserved to be happy. She wasn’t jealous of someone else in his life when she had no claim to him in any way. “I jus’ don’t think s’polite t’talk ‘bout her t’you,” he shrugged. “S’rude.”

“Okay,” she nodded encouragingly. “If that’s how you feel, I just wanted you to know you could if you wanted to.”

Harry seemed a little less on edge about it after that, but she noted his grip on her thigh loosened. Even though she kinda liked how his fingers felt pressed into her skin. She figured she could tell him later when they were alone... and her clothes weren’t in the way.

*

They sat in the very coffee shop she used to work in. It was nice to get out and have an inexpensive date—even with two grown up jobs it was smart to sit and relax in the comfy seats and sip coffee they loved so much. It made her heart flutter that Harry still knew her order after so much time. Or maybe that was a comment on her stubbornness to change. “You should try the hazelnut drink they just got,” she smiled at him as they stood in line, holding hands. “It made me think of you.” The overlap of seeing him after two years and the new drink reminded her of all the things he loved and all the things she remembered loving about him. He leaned toward her and kissed her cheek.

Once seated, Harry stretched his legs; they invaded her space beneath the table. But it didn’t seem to bother her. He admired her concentration on the book she was reading; the little furrow of her brow, the way her lips pursed together. She was so adorable, and Harry didn’t think she even knew. Beneath the table he nudged her leg with his knee, and she glanced up at him. He could tell she didn’t want to look up from her book. But he smiled at her. A smile that made her heart and stomach twist because he was so Harry, so perfect. It made her smile back.

“Harry!”

Both their heads turned to the voice. But after a brief moment, she turned to look at Harry. Trying to piece together the recognition. She came up short, but Harry stood and greeted the girl with a hug politely. There was a little flutter of jealousy that pinched her heart and she waited patiently.

“Kitten, this is Hailey,” his voice was neutral.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she cleared her throat and stood.

Hailey was beautiful. There was no question about it. When she left, she was going to ask about a thousand questions. Starting with if she was a model. Then asking Harry if she knew what kind of hair products she used.

“Same to you,” she smiled politely. Her voice took on a new tone as she turned back to Harry. It was obvious her problem wasn’t with her, for which she was grateful. “Hadn’t heard from Harry in a while.”

“That’s my fault,” Harry’s voice was low. As if he was exhausted. She could tell Harry wanted out of this conversation. Curiosity was getting the better of her as she tried to imagine if she had ever met Hailey prior or heard the name in any stories Niall had told.

“How long have you been seeing each other?” Hailey asked. She noticed her tone was getting harsher by the second. Her glare bored into Harry’s face.

She opened her mouth to say, ‘a few months,’ and get her attention away from her boyfriend. But Harry beat her to the punch. “Two and a half years,” he told her.

Hailey quirked an eyebrow up and she tilted her head at him curiously because while true, technically, there was a large two-year gap between the ‘two’ and the ‘half’ part of his sentence. But it did make her heart happy that he was willing to let the gap slide into oblivion. It would definitely require explanation, but it was nice.

Hailey looked at Harry for a long moment. “That’s news to me.”

“Hailey,” he said quietly.

“I can let you guys talk if—”

“S’fine, kitten,” he said quickly.

Hailey looked irritated beyond belief. She wished she fully knew why because right now the only thing she felt was overwhelming uncomfortableness. Quietly she sat in her seat and folded the page of her book down. Harry did a double take and shook his head before turning his attention back to Hailey.

“You ghosted me,” she said.

Harry closed his eyes. “I did,” he admitted. “But we were never...”

“I deserved more than that.”

“You did,” he agreed. It clicked. The girl that Harry wasn’t dating. The girl he was fucking in some arrangement that she didn’t know about. Her cheeks felt warm just knowing what happened. Hailey looked pissed. Her eyes were fueled with anger. “But we weren’t exclusive.”

She continued to glare at him. “You’re an ass.”

“Yes,” Harry nodded in agreement.

It almost seemed like Hailey was mad Harry was agreeing with her. Not that she could fully look at the scene unfolding in front of her to truly gauge it. She was taking extreme interest in her coffee cup. Hailey grabbed Harry’s cup of coffee, pulled the lid off and she closed her eyes as Harry braced for the cold liquid to cover him. “Good luck,” Hailey said in her direction then marched off to the exit. Once out of the shop and everyone was watching Harry drip from head to toe, she jumped into action. She asked her former coworkers for some towels, and she felt her face heat with embarrassment on behalf of Harry. If she wasn’t there, maybe that wouldn’t have happened. Perhaps Hailey would have had a conversation with Harry that she fully deserved and she wouldn’t have felt the need to dump coffee all over him.

“Kitten,” Harry murmured as she dabbed at his clothes and cleaned up the puddle at his feet. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

She smiled weakly. “It’s okay. Are you alright?”

“M’so embarrassed,” he admitted.

She shook her head. “Let’s get out of here,” she squeezed his arm.

“But our date...”

She laughed quietly. “I mean, I wanted you out of your clothes anyway,” she teased.

Harry chuckled, his cheeks turning slightly pink with her flirtatious joke, and looked at his feet. “Yeah? You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” She asked. There was a long pause as she gathered their belongings, returned the towels to the front where she thanked them profusely. Then she held the door open for Harry, sticky with coffee. He shrugged.

“I didn’t...” He sighed. “I didn’t want to tell you about her.”

“Why?”

“Because, kitten. If I knew y’were fucking some guy for the last two years without any strings attached I would be jealous out of m’mind,” he explained. “I’d be jealous if there were strings.”

She made a mental note to keep her ex to herself. “Well... I’m not mad. I wish you had told me so you could have ended things—”

“She was getting attached. I didn’t want a relationship. I started cutting it off weeks before I heard from you. I had only seen her once or twice in the months prior. She texted every now and again. I didn’t want a relationship,” he repeated. She got a jacket he had left in his backseat to lay over the driver’s seat so he wouldn’t have a car that smelled like sour coffee for the rest of time. They could always wash the jacket.

“No?” She asked. Harry took his seat and waited until she was in the passenger seat to continue.

He shook his head. “Now that I have y’back... I don’t know why we broke up,” he tapped his hands on the steering wheel. Her heart fluttered. “S’obvious now. M’not... I don’t know, kitten. Dating didn’t make sense after you. I tried. Really,” he assured her. “S’jus’... you were... you are special.”

She bit the inside of her cheek and felt the heat warm her skin with adoration and embarrassment. “You don’t have to pretend like you didn’t have a life while I wasn’t around.”

“I know. And I was wrong for how I handled Hailey,” he assented.

“Maybe, yes. But she didn’t need to pour coffee all over you.”

“At least it was iced,” Harry chuckled. She smiled. “Are we okay?”

“Of course,” she giggled.

Harry sighed with relief and grabbed her hand. He kissed her knuckles. Turning the car on and backing out of the spot. “Since when d’you fold the page of y’book like a serial killer?”

*

Harry always sucked at doing dishes. When she stayed at his house in the beginning of their relationship it drove her nuts to no end. He used too many and piled them high. Then he would leave them without soaking for so long it was miserable. It wasn’t even her responsibility to do the dishes but she felt like it was after he did all the cooking.

Which was why when he finished making dinner for them on a night in, she was floored to see him doing the dishes right away. Soaking and scrubbing them as she had done so many times over.

“You don’t like dishes,” she mumbled in surprise putting leftovers in Tupperware and condiments in the fridge.

He smirked glancing over his shoulder. “Didn’t realize how much I was torturing you all the years ago.”

She gaped. “What?”

“Niall went t’do the dishes after me shortly after we broke up,” he chuckled. “Said, ‘no wonder she broke up with you; I don’t even want t’be your roommate right now.’ Y’should have said something, kitten.”

Her cheeks felt warm. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“No,” he nodded firmly. “It was pretty bad, baby,” he nudged her with his hip.

She giggled and took the large pan that Harry had used to make stir fry (something that she had forgotten he made so well. It was delicious) and began drying it. “I don’t know, seemed like a bitchy thing to say ‘hey, I know you just made dinner for me and it was delicious and a lot of work, but I kind of want to strangle you for how difficult it is to wash the dishes.’”

He flicked water at her making her wrinkle her nose. The expression was adorable, made her look even cuter than she normally did so that Harry’s heart skipped a beat. “Y’can’t hide stuff like that, kitten. Y’do that and I won’t know m’gonna lose you so I can fix it,” he winked.

“I hope you don’t lose me,” she mumbled.

He chuckled. “Whatcha say, love?” He wrapped his arms around her waist. His hands were still wet and he avoided her shirt as much as possible, holding her slightly awkwardly but it was cute. “Think m’gonna be stupid enough t’lose y’twice?”

She giggled and shook her head. “Not if I have a say in it,” she draped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. He seemed to melt into the kiss—forgetting his hands were wet and getting the back of her shirt wet as well.

Which was fine by him.

He wanted her out of her shirt anyway.

—

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If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[jensettermandu]

la douleur exquise - kim minji

genre; smut, angst

pairing; g!p minji x female reader

conetent; fingering (reader receiving), some begging, praising, a bit of spanking, slightly rough sex, idk if i missed something

synopsis; minji finally finds the only moment left to tell the simply complicated words to the girl who already knows. she's already told her everything with her eyes, and somehow they are both aware of it all. the beauty of being too early, but also being too late, with no good moment actually existing.

wc; 10.9k+

masterlist

Minji has always had this one problem.

Love.

Not as cliché as it sounds even if it is because she had no problem with loving, it was just with who she fell in love with and how she fell. 

She fell too easily or thought that she was in love only to realise it would all be an infatuation that then passed. It was always the same thing of jumping in with both feet without even checking if she truly liked the waters or just found them mesmerising for the moment and then scurried away after truly feeling them. 

The more she thought about it, she may never really have been in love.

Probably not until now that these waters had left her looking at them for a while longer instead of jumping in right away. They had left her wanting to feel around them, learn them, to know exactly how to be in those waters to not cause any accidents. To not scurry away. To stay in them for long.

The more time passed the more mesmerised she felt and she was quite sure it was what it was. Minji was in love with the wrong waters, ones that had clear warning signs of not wanting anyone to intrude on them because the tide was high and the moment simply wasn’t right.

She just couldn’t help the way the corners of her lips raised as she listened to those calming waves, eyes stuck on the glimmering of them. It was more than just mesmerising. It was like a vacation that she never wanted to leave because she would never find waters as beautiful and as good to swim in again.

It was quite obvious and she knew that Y/n had probably figured it out because the girl didn’t let her say those three words. Every time she had tried tonight, Y/n diverted the conversation to something different right away. It was fine because she could wait and she would wait until she would have the chance to say them. 

It was selfish.

Not only selfish but scary.  

It had been three months since they started to see each other. 

They’ve been going with this routine for three months now.

They would see each other on mostly Thursdays, and Saturdays, at times Tuesdays too. Those were usually days when Y/n was free and Minji always made sure to be free on those days just to see Y/n. Otherwise, she had no other way of seeing her. 

They didn’t go to the same college.

They didn’t see each other just to hang out. 

They were only attached for one reason. 

So with that, she took every chance she had to meet the girl she was supposed to be in bed with with no strings attached. 

It was fine. She was sure that it was fine that she was in love because whenever she looked at Y/n she was sure the girl was in love too. Minji could see her reflection always glimmer in Y/n’s eyes. The girl was just scared and Minji would wait until she no longer would be, but time was running out and she knew that she couldn’t wait any longer and had to say the truth to Y/n. 

She knew where she had gone wrong.

It was the usual place as they sat at the diner to eat before they headed back to Minji’s apartment that she shared with her flatmate. Her place was closer. Or maybe Y/n just didn’t want to take Minji home. Either was fine as long as she spent the night with her. 

They would sit and talk about everything and nothing, things that weren’t supposed to hold meaning to them because their relationship held no meaning to it. Yet Minji found meaning in the nothingness that was everything to her because she cared about Y/n’s day. She cared about what the girl had planned even if she wasn’t part of it. She cared about these things and always listened attentively even if Y/n maybe didn’t do the same or find the same meaning in meaningless conversations between them. 

Y/n would always eat pancakes, those fluffy ones with fruit and it seemed like a perfect meal despite it not being breakfast. It was perfect because Minji liked the way Y/n enjoyed them or maybe she would only enjoy them since she would be picky with her food. Minji would take whatever, too busy with listening to the vixen so by the time they would order she’d take the first thing she would lay her eyes on in the menu. 

Tonight she had tried a few times already, to start that conversation that was forbidden. A twitch in her eye every time Y/n managed to turn the conversation around so smoothly. A twitch of adoration at how amazing the girl in front of her was. Unable to get frustrated by it because she got lost in Y/n’s words before she could utter the one she wanted to say.

Each time Minji had insisted on paying and each time Y/n caved in at the end. Two broke students didn’t make one rich, but Minji didn’t mind spending a little more on these days. She’d pay and then they would leave the diner and make the walk through the busy city. Everyone would always be so caught up with themselves, but Minji was too caught up with the girl walking beside her. 

She liked that Y/n let her hold her hand, maybe interlock their fingers at times.

She didn’t like that the girl would always be underdressed by not wearing a jacket because a hoodie was supposed to suffice in windy weather. 

After the first few times, MInji had come up with a solution. 

The older girl made sure to put on a t-shirt, a thick hoodie, and her current jacket which was a simple and slightly oversized dark jean jacket. 

“You will get sick,” Y/n would try to argue when she offered her the jacket that she truly only brought for the girl since she had such thick layers on that she wasn’t even slightly prone to being cold. It was part of the routine now.

“I won’t, here.” She’d put it on her and Y/n would giggle.

“I swear, you’re doing it on purpose.” The vixen would point out while Minji would adjust her cap to try and hide the obviousness of her words that were true. She would try to shrug it off and tease Y/n right back.

“You’re not dressing warm enough purposely so you can borrow my jacket.” 

She would look at how Y/n’s eyes would crinkle when she smiled that bashful smile, wordlessly admitting that she did do it on purpose. It warmed Minji and her warm hand would hold onto Y/n’s colder one, making sure to warm it for her, at times going as far as borrowing the pockets of her hoodie or zip-up. The tips of Y/n’s ears were always rosy with the tip of her nose and cheeks. Unless it wasn’t as cold. She would always make sure to warm her.

The vixen was the same height as her, but her figure was more petite and the jacket would fit her differently than Minji. It would be bigger on her, but she liked the way Y/n looked in her clothes. The younger still had one or two of Minji’s hoodies at her place and Minji never asked for them back. It created a sense of importance to know that Y/n maybe wore her clothes at times, that maybe she would think about her too when she would stumble upon Minji’s hoodie in her closet. The thought that Minji wasn’t the only one thinking about Y/n during her days away from her. 

They would make it to the apartment complex, Minji still holding onto Y/n’s hand while leading the way up the stairs. Their routine never really changed. She wasn’t sure if she liked it or simply didn’t mind it. Well, as long as it was with Y/n. There were a few things that maybe were less enjoyable with the routine now that she knew what she felt for the girl. 

“Is your flatmate home?” The girl would ask almost every time.

“Yeah, but it’s fine, Hanni is busy in her room.” Minji’s friend whom she shared the apartment had come to an agreement with her over what it would look like if they brought someone over. Usually, Hanni wouldn’t be at home or she would spend the evening in her room. Y/n and Minji would be in her room too either way, but it was mostly to avoid any awkward run-ins. 

She wasn’t sure if Y/n would want to be introduced to her friends.

They knew her almost as well as Minji did though but Y/n didn’t know them all too well. 

Minji had maybe talked about Y/n to her friends a little too much for someone who she was seeing with no strings attached. They didn’t know that because she was afraid they would understand what had happened. Scared that they would warn her and tell her to let go before she would get hurt. She didn’t need anyone’s pity, she only needed Y/n. 

Love was scary. 

Was one thing she realised. 

The keys would always clatter and unlocking the door took a few seconds longer than when she got home alone. Y/n was a tease, her kisses on MInji’s neck made her forget how to use the keys, she loved them, they were always so soft and consoling whenever she thought of the consequences of finding comfort in Y/n. 

“Minji…” Y/n dragged out, her hands slowly dragged over the soft and warm skin because her hands often found themselves under the older’s clothes. The vixen had always been more audacious than Minji and she liked that about her, it brought something different to her life that sometimes felt plain for a college student. 

She tried to find her words but never did when Y/n grabbed hold of her hand and Minji’s face turned to the girl who was resting her chin on her shoulder. Y/n looked back at her with a teasing smile. “It’s not as hard as it looks, baby.” She was quite sure that these pet names were something Y/n called everyone, but they still made her flutter with more excitement than they maybe should make her feel. It just felt tender when it came from Y/n and she was more than just MInji, she was someone else with Y/n. She was someone who made her forget, she made Y/n feel better.

The vixen’s grey eyes flickered from the keyhole and to Minji, those brown eyes of the older one always holding that empty yet filled with emotions look. Those eyes were always on her whenever she looked at MInji. It didn’t matter if Y/n was looking somewhere else if they were watching a movie, or if they were walking along the sidewalks, whenever she looked up at Minji, the older one was already looking back at her. 

It was still happening, Y/n broke the gaze for reasons Minji could read as if they were written on a paper right in front of her. She never really read people too well, but she never paid much attention to people as she had to Y/n. Y/n had become see-through glass and the girl was quite sure the younger wasn’t too fond of it. 

There were many things Y/n wasn’t fond of. 

Minji had listened to her troubled confessions and learnt that she was a difficult person yet she so easily fell for her. 

They entered the apartment like they always did, it was silent, and the indication of her flatmate being at home was the shoes that stood by the door. However, her presence wasn’t acknowledged because Minji could only acknowledge Y/n by how blinded she was by her. It didn’t matter since Hanni was in her bedroom either way. 

Like always they removed their shoes and found themselves in Minji’s bedroom which was always chilly before it would steam up and be hot. The girl would remove the jacket by then and discard it on the chair by the desk. 

She watched Y/n who threw her phone on the bed. There had been a little break in their routine tonight. Aside from Minji trying to say those words to Y/n, the girl had been busy with her phone on certain occasions when it was suitable. The vixen saw Minji as a distraction so her phone rarely got taken out, but it did tonight and it had left Minji pulling on the sleeves of her hoodie while wondering if she wanted to know or not.

The look–

“Be back in a second?” Minji hummed at Y/n’s words, watching the girl quietly make it out of her bedroom. 

Minji had learned Y/n's routine by now.

Routine.

That’s what she was, a part of Y/n’s routine.

The girl would quickly disappear into the bathroom for what was two to three minutes while Minji would get the movie ready that they never watched more than 15-20 minutes.

She knew why Y/n always wanted to settle on movies they never watched.

Otherwise, they would have to spend that time thinking and talking.

Talking to each other within the safe confines of a bedroom where things just spilled because there were no other eyes or ears. Minji knew Yn didn’t want that.

Silence without a movie to occupy the mind would leave them both thinking.

Minji would most likely be thinking about Y/n.

And Y/n?

She would be dwelling on what she was trying to escape by seeing Minji.

The vixen had spilled everything to her once already after they got drunk and went back to her place. Naked and within the confines Y/n broke down into a vulnerable mess that Minji did her best to hold together.

She broke the routine tonight as Y/n left for the bathroom and Minji’s curiosity got the best of her. 

The girl removed her cap and hoodie and threw them onto the chair where her jacket was. Her feet led her to her bed and she slumped down on it, grabbing the remote that was lying on the white and fresh sheets she had changed today. The room was dimly lit by the bedside lamp she had forgotten to turn off. 

However, she never found herself turning on the TV that was on the wall in front of her bed that stood in the corner of the room by the window. The blinds were down, and the moon and stars were not allowed to shine their lights on them. The faint buzz of the city was always heard, but with time she grew used to it and it worked as white noise, it let her fall asleep easier. 

The girl glanced at Y/n’s phone screen which lit up again.

She knew that she shouldn’t but she did, Minji did so quickly too because she knew that it was wrong. The girl knew she would feel guilty, and she would feel even worse if Y/n had caught her. She did it quickly and managed to see the name and short text which was enough.

In the same way that waves washed over the shore and dragged everything back with them, the same feeling washed over Minji. It was as if the water filled her lungs, it was a warm feeling of distress and forlornness that dragged her to the bottom of a dark ocean after not being able to grab hold of anything to stop herself from drowning in the current that pulled her. The type that made her breathing heavier and her eyes sting with a warmth that didn’t come out because it stayed at bay. The type that left her to think that life was unfair, but at the same time she knew that she had no right to call something that was settled on unfair. 

It made her exhale deeply through her nose to try and push those feelings of doom aside. To push the water out of her lungs. It was as if her life had come to an end and she had no clue she could love this way as she reclined and stared at her ceiling while letting the cold sheets under her turn warm. 

She felt those waters drag her down further, the ones she was supposed to stay away from but never did because Y/n was so hard to stay away from despite all the warnings on her way there. The girl’s waves were too strong to run away from as they grabbed hold of Minji and pulled her right into her, it wasn’t even intentional. Each breath only turned heavier, filling her lungs more and more with that water that was getting coloured red because it cut through her skin the more she thought about it, the more her heart bled. Her body only grew heavier and let her sink further down in the blue. 

Love hurt, didn’t it?

It was her last chance to say what she felt. There was no losing or winning anymore because whatever Y/n would say, if she was going back to her, Minji would lose either way. If she did, she would at least get it off her chest and know that she had told the girl how she felt. 

-

“What’s this?” Minji asked, still slowly catching her breath as her fingers trailed along Y/n’s warm skin. The bed was hot, the steam still present in the air. She had seen the little tattoo right by her collarbone before; she could tell that it was a little Sakura tree branch which was the size of her forefinger which she traced it with. 

Her eyes flickered away from the tattoo and to Y/n whose face looked unsure as it contorted into a frown and then relaxed before she frowned again and looked at Minji. Her eyes glazed from the alcohol after they had decided to drink over dinner and it got a bit out of hand while they had been talking. It was easy to lose track when they were with each other.

“Isn’t it obvious?” A chuckle followed, it wasn’t an amused one, it was one of condescending pain because it had taken over the girl’s life. 

Minji had unfortunately fallen blind to it after drinking and gave her a nod of affirmation because it was obvious.

“Yeah, but does it mean anything?” 

Well, maybe Y/n could have lied about what Minji asked, or maybe she shouldn’t have asked to begin with. Or she could have just brushed it off and said it meant nothing.

“Means Sakura–” Those tears were already welling up in the drunk girl's eyes and she would never let that happen. She would never be vulnerable around someone else aside from one person, but suddenly she got susceptible around Minji too because combined with the alcohol filling her veins it got stupidly and unwillingly easy. “Her name…while she got stars after saying they remind her of me.” 

She pulled her into her comfort right away, but she wasn’t sure if she was as comforting to Y/n as the girl she got a tattoo for was to her. 

Minji could tell Y/n was still hurting and she felt horrible after the girl slowly crumbled beside her. It had slipped her mind because she was so set on wanting Y/n that she forgot that the girl was still trying to escape something in the past. She had forgotten that she used to have someone else who was closer to her than Minji despite Minji being the one there for her now—even if it was to help her forget. 

She forgot that she wasn’t the only one in love.

-

The tables had turned, hadn’t they?

Minji was the one hurting because of love now and not Y/n. 

The difference was that she couldn’t blame anyone for this while Y/n could blame someone for her heartbreak.

Was it a heartbreak if it looked like they had started to text again?

Minji frowned, it was distress and discomfort at how heavy it made her feel.

It’s been six months though.

It had been two minutes.

“No movie?” Y/n questioned and Minji hummed, lifting her head from the duvet, slowly pushing herself up until she was propped up on her elbows. There was no movie and she got to see what happened when nothing was playing to distract her thoughts. She ended up drowning. A stupid movie was a buoy that kept her at bay and didn’t let her sink under the surface to drown in those thoughts. 

The routine wasn’t the usual as she hadn’t managed to do it.

“Well…” She trailed off, the remote still in her hold and she glanced at the black screen of the TV on the wall. 

“It’s whatever.” 

The vixen was like a cat, the bed dipping lightly as she got on it and her agile body made it to Minji who pushed the remote aside. Her hand found its way to grab hold of Y/n’s hoodie who made it into her lap. It usually wasn’t whatever, they always filled the silence, but this time it was whatever. Maybe whatever was for the better at the moment.

Y/n’s lips tugged into a small smile as she gently pushed Minji to lay back down. Her hands grabbed hold of the ones that were on her hips and she intertwined their fingers before pinning them down beside the girl’s head. It always made Minji’s heart pick up in excitement because feeling Y/n’s lips wasn’t simply great, it always made her body tingle, it made her want more, but more than just Y/n’s body. 

The girl leaned down, their eyes holding an electric field between them, zaps that pulled them to each other. Her hair fell down her shoulders, tickling the sides of Minji’s face, her sweet scent engulfed her in a comfort blanket and her breath gently tickled her lips. 

She lifted her head just enough and it pulled Y/n fully into her. Her lips fell against her, it was like falling through clouds, the girl smiling into the kiss because of the eagerness behind each of Minji’s kisses. The way the older never really wanted to pull away. She could only kiss her behind closed doors so there was no reason to pull away when she finally got to kiss Y/n. It made her world crumble in the best ways possible as it went under and flipped her into a utopic world. 

She gave Y/n’s hands a little squeeze, her eyes closed and her head tilting to get deeper, to swallow the drug that Y/n was whole. Her tongue slowly pushed between those plump lips. It always drew out small sighs, somewhere between moans out of Y/n whenever their tongues met. The vixen was hard to resist and made Minji squirm slightly under her at the growing tension. 

Y/n pulled away with a breathless chuckle, escaping Minji who didn’t manage to catch her lips again. Her lips left wet and parted as she stared up at Y/n with panting breaths falling from her lips. 

Their hands got untangled as Y/n leaned over. “Do you take Polaroids in bed?” She asked with a giggle after her eyes fell on the Polaroid camera on top of the bedside table. Minji tilted her head back and watched Y/n reach over for it. 

“No–I was changing the film.” Y/n hummed and bit her lower lip, Minji’s fingers tangled in the loose jeans the girl had on. 

“What’re you doing?” She questioned, about to reach up for the Polaroid that Y/n aimed at her. She giggled, pushing the hands away from the camera and looked up at Minji who lay under her. It left Minji smiling right back, getting lost in Y/n once again and it took her a second too long to realise it–the picture being taken. 

“Hey–I wasn’t ready for that one,” Minji complained, grabbing hold of Y/n’s waist and pushing her over. The girl had no time to get away when the older one quickly grabbed hold of her- The giggles tended to echo in her mind for days after Y/n would leave. It was a laugh that was easy to remember, the type where she could hear it in a room full of people and know that Y/n was somewhere among them. It brought out laughter in Minji who quickly got on top of Y/n and stopped her with her weight. 

“You don’t need to be ready, it still came out good.” Y/n moved the Polaroid away from her once again when she tried to reach for it and took out the picture that was slowly appearing on the film. With the picture in hand, Y/n finally gave up the camera and Minji took it from her. 

She hummed at Y/n’s words, the girl looking at the picture that was slowly coming to life and Minji found herself staring like always. Her eyes were always on Y/n and she steadied the camera to capture what her eyes always captured. She had no pictures of the girl and wanted to see if they would even compare to what she saw in the girl. 

It seemed perfect as Y/n glanced away from the photo that she flipped to Minji with a smile that was caught right by the camera. It was enough to make Y/n whine and try to squirm from beneath the girl on top of her, but to no avail, as she even held the camera away from her.

“Now I do take Polaroids in bed.” She took the picture out and put the camera back. 

“Do I get to keep it?” Y/n asked and tried to reach for the Polaroid of herself again.

“No…” Minji trailed off and looked back down at Y/n who rolled her eyes before they settled right on the older one again. She looked between the photo and Y/n before she put it aside on the bedside table so it wouldn’t get ruined, slipping the photo out of Y/n’s hand too before she leaned down. It did her beauty no justice, it did not capture what Minji could see in Y/n, it didn’t capture what went beyond beauty and was under her skin.

“You see yourself every day, you don’t need it.” She mumbled, Y/n’s hands came up to her shoulders but she guided them down to the bed, pinning both hands above her head. 

Minji tilted her head, taking that silent moment to always admire the girl for a bit. It was easy to get lost in Y/n’s words, her lips, and her body, but she always preferred to get lost in these simple moments. They weren’t supposed to be passionate but she still found them to be just that. She opened her mouth, but Y/n helped her muffle what she was trying to say when she kissed her. 

The vixen closed her eyes, kissing Minji the way she always did, stealing her breath and so much more than just her breath. It wasn’t intentional, she hadn’t been aware at first, but it became obvious, Minji became obvious. On one side it was needy, their tongues starting to almost desperately push against each other, on the other side it was filled with a burning desire that was different for both of them. 

Y/n slipped her hands out from beneath Minji’s gentle hold, her tongue pushing against the slickness of the older’s mouth as she tangled her fingers in her hair. The words were cut short at this point and all that spoke were their bodies. The girl on top slowly moved down and found herself between Y/n’s legs, still kissing her with her hand slowly running under the hoodie that Y/n had on. 

The vixen was quicker as she moved her hands over to the hem of the other’s shirt and tugged it up. They pulled away, Minji removing her shirt before she helped Y/n remove the hoodie she had on as she had pushed herself up. The clothes fell onto the floor with deaf thuds. It quickly steamed up, it always left the chilly room hot as even at these moments Minji had a hard time containing herself. Everything would be tender, but it was a different tenderness in bed. 

Her cock started to grow harder quicker than she could register Y/n’s body, her eyes knew what they saw, but her brain took longer to phantom the beauty of her. The girl’s black lacy bra didn’t leave much to cover and Minji loved her in black.

Y/n fell onto her back again, pulling the girl with her who immediately found her lips again. Their heavy breaths occupied the room, drowning out the city noise as Y/n’s gasps and Minji’s desperate breaths stirred them on. The younger’s colder hands found their way to the older’s back, trailing her fingers along the back that flexed with each movement and she pulled Minji closer to her. 

It elicited a groan from the back of her throat when her cock was slowly starting to strain against her bottoms, Y/n’s covered heat pressing against hers causing friction for the both of them. It was always a moment of desperation as they wanted to wallow in it, but at the same time get right to it, somehow they managed to meet in the middle. 

Minji kissed away from Y/n’s lips, kissing down her jaw, the younger’s chest heaved deeper with each kiss that pleated her skin in gold. Her hand trailed the slim waist, the touch created goosebumps that crawled over Y/n’s whole skin at how sweet it felt, the softness it created and warmed up her skin before it could get cold when she was starting to lose layers of clothes. 

Her palm pressed against the girl's hipbone, holding herself up while her other hand was by Y/n’s head. Her lips kissed the prominent collarbones with Y/n’s nails gently scratching down her neck and scalp as she pulled Minji closer. That tattoo was still there, but it was as if it disappeared in these moments. It felt like it held less meaning to it. She kissed her neck again, the thin skin was always sensitive and each sound it elicited from Y/n only fueled Minji. It made her press her hard cock against Y/n’s heat through their bottoms.

A moan escaped her lips at how she grounded against her, slowly moving her hips, not much at all, but it was enough pressure against her clit. “Fuck, Min…” Minji gently sucked, tugging on the skin but not leaving anything behind except her warmth. Her nose trailed the skin, taking in the scent while her hips continued to move in those slow motions that made Y/n let out light moans in her ears.

“You’re so hot,” she could only mumble, kissing down to the girl’s supple chest as her breasts perfectly fit in her palm. The skin was soft as she kissed the top of Y/n’s breasts. The girl closed her eyes at the feeling that made it all tingle and it travelled right to her clit where Minji’s cock was pressing through their clothes. Her breath tickled Y/n’s skin, kissing down her breast and along her smooth stomach that was heaving in with each breath.

Fingers found their way to the hem of the loose jeans and she started to work on unzipping and unbuttoning them. Her gaze fell up on Y/n for a second whose eyes were closed, fingers tugging at her hair with each kiss that made her squirm for more. 

She managed to undo the bottoms and sat back on her heels, and the vixen lifted her hips, bottom lip trapped between her teeth as Minji slid them off of her long legs that were slim and smooth, shining. All that was left on Y/n’s body was the black lingerie and the younger sat up.

“It’s almost too loud, Minji.” Y/n breathed out as she sat on her knees, the girl had been awfully quiet and stared at her with those eyes, but those eyes spoke too loudly. Y/n preferred words, not those looks she understood too well. 

“You leave me speechless, I guess.” 

“Too cheesy.” Minji chuckled and kissed Y/n who started undoing her bottoms, her fingers pushed back the hair that was getting in the way of Y/n’s face. She pushed it behind the girl’s ear while she felt her skin with her other hand, cupping Y/n’s cheek. Her left hand snuck behind her waist, smiling into the kiss that made her giddy like always, these moments always did. It almost stung from how good they were, it was all too sweet and bitter at the same time. 

It was with some difficulty but she managed to undo the bra once her hand found its way to it. The gesture was enough to make Y/n chuckle against her lips, swallowing Minji's tongue back down as she sucked on it. The bra slid down her shoulders and Y/n let it fall to the side before she went back to the drawers. Her hand grabbed hold of Y/n’s ass, gripping the cheek and squeezing it as most of the material of the lace went up her ass. Just then Y/n tugged down the jeans while one of her breasts got cupped in Minji’s palm, fitting right in it as her breasts weren’t big, but perfectly plump and perky. 

“Sit down.” Y/n at last managed to pull away from her lips, pushing Minji to sit down and it let her remove the drawers off her legs fully. The older girl sat leaning back against her palms. 

Her eyes landed on the boxer briefs where the print of her cock was prominent, outlining every little detail from her leaking tip to the big vein that ran along it. It was a glance at each other and the two were removing the last pieces they had on until they were naked on the bed. 

Y/n found her way into Minji’s lap, her hand grabbed hold of the cock that was throbbing for her touch. Hands grabbed hold of her ass and Minji’s mouth found its way to Y/n’s breasts. The kisses turned wet and sloppy, quietly whimpering against the skin as Y/n stroked her cock, gathering the precum and smearing it down her length all while letting small gasps out by her ear from the attention on her chest. 

She grabbed hold of the back of the Minji’s head, twisting her hand with each stroke up which made the girl groan, squeezing her tip before going back down. It was waking up every nerve in Y/n’s body from the tongue that circled her nipple, sucking on it and tugging, teeth grazing over it while her other breast was kneaded with rough care. It coated her chest in the warm saliva, and her hard nipples were grazed by teeth before Minji tugged on them. The actions pushed whimpers out of Y/n, pushing her chest more into the girl.

Her cunt was throbbing with need, slick slowly starting to ooze down, Y/n’s clit pulsating at the thoughts, at the cock she was stroking in her hand. Minji’s thick length was scalding in her hold.

“Minji.” It left her lips so softly, it made her dick twitch in the younger’s hold. She hummed, loving those blissful sounds that would always leave Y/n. Her eyes looked up at the girl through her lashes, mouth still sucking on her chest with languid moves that always worked the vixen up the best. 

“Condoms.” Y/n breathed out and she removed her hand from Y/n’s ass and blindly reached for the bedside drawer. Eyes closing at the way Y/n worked her length with just her hand, mouth still latched to the supple breast, gently playing with the nipple using her tongue and fingers. Her fingers stumbled upon the metallic wrap and she took it, only then removing her mouth from Y/n’s chest when the vixen in her lap pulled back.

It disappeared from her hold as Y/n took it from her and Minji bit her lower lip, running her hand down between them. A shuddering breath slipped past Y/n’s lips at the two fingers that ran through her wet folds, spreading them and running down to her sopping hole that was greedily clenching and waiting to get stuffed by the girl’s cock. She looked up at Y/n who held onto her shoulders, wrapper still unopened between her fingers while she slowly caressed her slick pussy. 

She gathered the slickness on her fingers, kissing the girl’s clavicles whose hips subtly bucked into her hand. “You’re so pretty, the way you get needy and wet—loving how just my fingers touch you.” It was almost melodic the way she hummed those words against the warm skin of Y/n. What she got in return was a whimper when she dipped her middle finger inside the walls that immediately clasped around her only for Minji to pull out again. Her hand caressed Y/n’s slim waist, fingers feeling her ribs the higher she got before running her hand back down in a feather-like way. It tickled, it made her squirm, wanting more.

“Please, I want you.” Hearing that Y/n wanted her was almost enough to make her burst. She felt how fingers dug into her shoulders when she circled her clit before pressing down on it. It made Y/n’s hips buck into her before the girl huffed when she removed the pressure. 

“What do you want me to do?” She questioned, tongue sticking out and licking over the tattoo and to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Her teeth dug down into the skin, fingers still working the slick cunt, teasing through her lips, smearing her wetness up to her clit that she would caress before dipping down before it could become too good.

Minji had learned Y/n’s body, she knew it better than her own. She knew that even if the girl wanted her now, she loved when she would shower her with these teasing touches. When she drove her further up to the peak before letting her hit it and fall off. Her two fingers pushed into the hole this time, stretching the tight walls out in scissoring motions so the girl wouldn’t feel any discomfort once she would push her dick inside. 

“Touch me–make me feel good like you always do.” Her words withered the further she pushed inside her, slowly getting knuckle deep in the confines of her warm and snug walls. The vixen felt the stretch of the two fingers that were slowly stretching her out, caressing her g-spot and putting pressure on it that made her buck into her. 

She continued to slowly work inside her, watching how Y/n’s face contorted into pleasure and need. It was good, but it wasn’t enough yet she loved how it drove her crazy and wanting more. The kisses would ease into her skin, the world muffling around her. Moans seeped through at how deeply Minji worked her fingers inside her, making sure to stretch her. The only other sound was the squelching of fingers pushing in and out of her sopping mess. 

“Fuck me, stretch me out with your cock until everything is a blur—I just want you deep inside me, baby.” Minji slowly pulled her fingers back out of Y/n before running them over to her swollen clit again which she had lubed up with the girl’s wetness.

“Put it on, ride me, fuck yourself on me the way you want to be fucked. Love yourself on my cock, Y/n.” Minji encouraged fingers slowly dragging along the swollen and throbbing bud. The words made Y/n whimper and slowly pull back.

-

“I’m sorry, it’s kind of stupid–wait no, I don’t mean that you are stupid or meeting you–”

“No, don’t worry, it’s fine…I get what you mean by stupid because I’ve never agreed to anything like this before.” Minji cut Y/n off, easing whatever tension that would be created if she let her awkward rambling go on. The vixen gave her a bashful smile, giggling. 

“You’re adorable though.” Minji felt a wave of warmth hit her face, ears running red as if someone had been pulling on them. It was close to making her look around the diner to see if anyone else was witnessing the mess she was becoming around the girl she had gone out with for the third time. “I get the thought behind why Yujin would set me up with you.” She nodded at those words as they had one mutual friend, well, more acquaintance to Minji and Y/n’s friend since Minji didn’t know Yujin too well. 

Although, Minji felt like it was dangerous to be around Y/n. She was too good which meant that she would be bad for her heart. She was so good that the words that left her mouth next only meant more trouble for Minji. It would be impossible, wouldn’t it?

“I don’t think I am willing to put anything on the line, but I wouldn’t mind keeping it casual with you.” 

“As in…” Minji trailed off to make sure, her eyes stuck on Y/n as she was mesmerised by the girl. She looked like she would only break Minji’s heart and she would allow her to do it because Y/n was just too good to let pass by without at least getting to hold her hand. 

“No strings attached sex.”

-

She held onto Y/n’s waist, helping the girl who held her length that was wrapped in the condom. Her tip brushed through her folds and to her hole before Y/n slowly lowered herself onto her. The splitting feeling made her gasp and grip onto Minji’s shoulders who left pecks along her neck while slowly helping her ease down on her length. The tightness of Y/n’s walls was suffocating her cock, taking her into the snug and sopping cunt. As she looked down her dick was halfway there, her folds splitting around her dick. 

Her breathing got deeper when her cock finally filled Y/n to the hilt, nails digging into her shoulders. “Fuck—You fill me so good.” Y/n sighed, pulling away slightly and looking down at their conjoined heat as she slowly started to move her hips. Each movement made them release breaths and moans, the younger whimpering at the cock that was caressing her insides, slowly starting to move up and down and letting it drag along her sopping heat. 

“Show me how you want it,” she breathed out, hand coming up and pushing back Y/n’s hair to see the way her face contorted in pain and pleasure. That bittersweet feeling of fucking herself on Mínji while knowing very well what she felt whether Y/n was riding her cock or if they were just sitting in a blank space and not doing anything at all. Yet she would ride her dick like there was no better thing in the world. 

Hands ran down to her ass, gripping it between her fingers and squeezing as she helped with moving up and down along her length. Her pace picked up, the stretch being less painful and turning into a burning desire for more as the whimpers flew out of her mouth. Minji always hit those spots that she hadn’t been able to hit herself unless it was that one other person. The way Minji had learned her body in these three months hurt because it was too good for someone who didn’t deserve their heart broken, but she was willing to get it broken just to be in the same room. 

“You’re so good, you take me so well ‘my cock so well, I love how you squeeze it.” Her grip on Y/n tightened, the girl rolling her hips back and forth, moving up and down, the pace becoming a perfect trance of sweet honey running a trail down to hell for Minji. The words made Y/n’s walls flutter, cunt clasping around the pulsating cock that she was slowly adjusting better to the longer it stayed buried inside her. 

The vixen bit her lower lip, eyes falling onto Minji who yet again was already looking at her with beautiful hearts in her eyes. It made Y/n close hers and tilt her head back while slowly moving deeper and harder. The bed let out pleading creaks as it was getting tired of watching the pain bloom between them. Minji’s lips parted, only able to watch Y/n ride her, her head thrown back, small chest bouncing with each stroke, her ass slapping against her thighs, pussy squelching from how wet she was, covering Minji’s pelvis in the mess. 

“Fuck–I want more.” Y/n half begged through a moan, her hips still gyrating smoothly, crashing against Minji like waves that sent pleasure through them both. Her cock penetrated deep within her snug walls, making her breath hitch each time it hit that significant spot that edged her closer.

“How much do you want it?” Minji clenched her jaw, palm rising and falling against Y/n’s plump ass, the slap echoing sharply. It made the girl whine and slam back down on her cock, almost choking at the way she filled her. The heat grew, hand colliding against her ass again and gripping it roughly with a squeeze all while staring up at the girl whose lips parted and songs of pleasure spilled out of her lips, the notes only for Minji to listen to. 

“So much, I want you to touch me everywhere, play with me, make me come–play with my pussy until it hurts.” Y/n’s moans went up in pitch, being light and whiny, her ass stinging slightly when Minji’s palm collided with her cheek again before she caressed it in her hold. 

Their bodies were warm, a sheet of sweat covering them to show that the passion was burning with forbidden desires, unable to put it out. Minji ran her hand down to Y/n’s clit, finding the sensitive nub, the touch making the walls clasp around her cock tightly .Y/n bucked into her hand while still moving perfectly on her cock, fucking herself on it just how she liked it and Minji admired. 

-

Minji tried to close her eyes and fall asleep. The girl in her arms was still trembling in her hold. The tear stains on her cheeks were cold and wiped away by Minji. Was there anything as fucking away the sadness, the pain and the agony? Was it right for her to tell Y/n to come over when the girl called her crying because she was worried her friends were done listening to her crying over someone who wasn’t there for her anymore? 

Her fingers ran through Y/n’s silky hair, the girl’s breaths were calm and heavy, but she knew that her insides were rumbling as they lay in bed together. Minji’s eyes fell on the girl who was naked under the covers with her, her perfect face buried in her neck and Minji’s skin warm and foggy from the fanning breaths Y/n let out against it.

Was it right? Minji was hurting so Y/nwouldn’t. 

It made her swallow and move in the bed, slowly pulling away the girl she thought was asleep. Y/n didn’t bother letting her know that she couldn’t sleep. She preferred to pretend that she was asleep so she wouldn’t have to acknowledge that she was hurting Minji. 

The older one got out of bed after placing Y/n’s head on one of her pillows, the covers in her bedroom always lingered with her scent. She pulled the duvet over her naked body so she wouldn’t get cold without her by her side.

Minji slipped on her shorts and tee before grabbing a towel on her way out of the bedroom. 

There was an awkward moment when she walked out of the room, her friend coming out of hers at the same time. It wasn’t hard to tell which one didn’t want to talk at all at the moment because no type of solace would change where her heart was and what would happen to it. The walk to the bathroom was watched by a look of pity before she stood under the pouring water that masked her tears. 

It felt right but at the same time wrong. Her eyes would be so tender, but her tears would be so acidic that they stung when they touched Minji’s skin. It left her hurting just as much as Y/n was and she was taking it every time because she couldn’t help but to do so. It frustrated her as she tried to give her comfort to the condescending pain all while knowing that she wasn’t the person Y/n wanted comfort from. No matter how hard she would try, there would always be a gap she wouldn’t be able to fill simply because her name wasn’t significant to Y/n’s tattoo.

She had known from the start that she would let Y/n break her heart and now it was happening. Minji was willingly putting herself through this for Y/n even if her sobs left her swallowing the steaming water. Even if each sob filled her lungs and left her feeling like she was drowning in pity and pain. It was crashing right through her, ripping every part of her to shreds, rotors snatching her and tearing her limbs apart, but it was all fine as long as she managed to flash some light through the cracks in Y/n. It was fine if the water would get coloured with cherry wine as long as Y/n would be happy drinking it. 

-

It was always a moment of build-up until it stopped only to resume again when Minji laid Y/n down. She pulled the duvet over them to keep the heat between them and not let it run away. Her eyes fell on Y/n while she held onto her still-hard cock and guided it back to her entrance, this time pushing in with more ease as the girl’s walls were accommodated to her thickness and length. 

Y/n gasped, her back arching into Minji, her chest pressing against hers with her arms wrapping around her back while Minji clenched the sheets in her fist by the vixen’s head. It always made her veins fill with these forbidden things, chemicals Y/n made cruise through her body and they would bulge, barely containing themselves within her and not exploding. Her cock buried deep inside the girl right away and she leaned down, kissing Y/n as she started to move her hips.

The bed creaked more, the headboard thudding against the wall and it was hard to continue kissing Y/n when the girl always left her breathless, sucking her soul out. It was as if all blood drained from her heart because it squeezed so hard whenever she was with Y/n. Nails ran down her back, always being the only sign of Y/n ever even stopping by her place together with the scent she would leave lingering on her sheets. 

Her hips met Y/n’s who only spread her legs further, balls slapping against her skin as Minji continued to drill into her cunt. Her fingers played with the bundle of nerves that deserved as much attention to bring Y/n to the edge with her tip stroking at her g-spot. Minji’s face fell into the crook of Y/n’s neck to muffle her sounds, biting down on her shoulder and letting out muffled groans and grunts that pushed out from the back of her throat every time she slammed her cock deep inside the girl. 

The girl moaned, heaving under Minji at the way she was pistoning in and out of her, the tension quickly grew. Her hips pushed up into the hand, but barely as the force of each thrust was holding her down and nailing her into the bed. “Fuck, I’m so close, Min–you fuck me so good.” Y/n’s voice was almost a cry as the next moans weren’t ones she could hold back as her orgasm was approaching, making her back arch more and her hands grasped onto the back that flexed with each thrust, pulling the girl on top closer. 

The covers rested by Minji’s hips, barely staying on from the rough trusts. Her cock dragged along Y/n’s tight walls that were sucking her in. Each thrust left her to pant for air to continue fucking her at the pace. Her hips sped up before slowing down, making sure that Y/n felt her everywhere and that she touched her insides the right way which made her bulge with each deep thrust. The headboard banged against her wall following the rhythm together with the squeaks it let out and leaving its marks on the wall.

She sloppily kissed along the vixen’s shoulder and up to her neck before pulling away to look at Y/n. “Show me how good you feel, Y/n, come around my cock.” Minji groaned, it was almost aching from how her skin was colliding with Y/n’s. The lewd sounds of their wet skin slapping echoed around her room which was filled with these emotions that would leave a mess after them. It would be a beautiful murder scene as someone would die by the end of the night unless something would turn around. 

Her hips rolled into Y/n, fucking deep into her, each thrust hard but tender with care to make her feel good and not hurt her. It made Y/n’s thighs quiver as they locked around Minji, her walls tightening and throbbing as she reached the peak, falling right from it at such speed that her eyes rolled back, head thrown back into the pillow. Minji drowned in Y/n, watching how she managed to fuck her to forget everything and only slowing down when the girl was whimpering and panting for air. 

The way Y/n spasmed at the touch made her remove her hand from the girl’s clit. Minji was close to collapsing at how she had been holding back to have Y/n finish. She huffed, hand falling beside Y/n’s head and bunching up the pillow case in her fists. Arms were still wrapped around her back, holding her close as her breathing grew heavier, her dick growing harder with her balls tightening. 

“Fuck–” She groaned out, stuttering into Y/n with her head falling into the crook of the vixen’s neck. Her cum filling the condom as spurt after spurt shot out her tip that was engulfed by Y/n’s pulsating walls. “Fuck,” she breathed out, falling out of breath, losing her thoughts as it just spilled out of her mouth this time without Y/n being able to prevent the worst from happening.

“I love you.” 

She could feel the way Y/n tensed up at the words she knew would come at some point. Her body slumped down against Y/n’s as she pulled out before her dick could go fully limp–quickly getting rid of the condom that landed in the bin by her bed. It removed one weight off of her chest, but put a new one on it, a much heavier one. 

Y/n’s fingers ran through Minji’s hair, caressing her scalp as silence fell upon them while they tried to catch their breath in a room where all the oxygen had been stolen. 

Minji let out a shaky breath at the way the heaviness had eased on her chest but became heavier right after. That fear grew in her, but she knew what it was. She was fine with her heart being broken by Y/n as she took in the scent that was comforting as it layered on the vixen’s skin. The comfort of something that was almost like a home, she had been homesick for so long, and there was Y/n. It made the tears well up in her eyes as she had found the home she had been so homesick for–

“I love you.” She repeated.

“I know Minji, I’m sorry.” The words were so tender, they left through a small rasp, they soothed yet they bruised as her heart fell into a rhythm that held the heaviness of a broken world. The words didn’t fill any cracks in Minji’s heart but only pushed through them and left them bigger, scarring it, leaving it much more difficult to mend than it should be.

–Only for it to not be a home. 

“You won’t leave?” Minji asked, not daring to move as she was scared that she would crumble to pieces if she did and Y/n moved away to leave. 

The vixen could feel Minji’s tears that brushed her skin, which fell along the skin they knew they didn’t belong on. Her eyes stared at the ceiling which became a blur unless she blinked her eyes and cleared them of the hotness that gathered in them. Her fingers scratched Minji’s damp scalp comfortingly despite not being able to be her comfort. 

“No.” Her lips found their way to the top of her head, kissing it gently. Not being able to kiss the pain away. 

“Promise.” Minji rasped. All she could do was hope and wait for Y/n to stop being hurt by the past. To let Minji in. It wasn’t even about being hurt anymore. It wasn’t about Minji. It never had been. The older one knew that. She knew that and still let Y/n hurt her because she let her do it when Y/n never wanted to hurt her in the first place. She knew that she would get hurt if she fell for someone who was already hurting, it was a disease. 

Minji had taken the wrong turn when she decided to get involved with someone who looked like she would break her heart. When she fell for someone who would break her heart. When she fell for someone who still loved her past. When she found a home in a pair of arms that were still holding onto their old home. 

“I promise.” She let out a shuddering breath, closing her eyes and forcing the tears through the cracks that were appearing in her heart. Something hurt, she couldn’t tell what it was anymore, but it was enough to make her realise that she had never truly been in love before until she met someone who would break her heart from the start. It didn’t allow her to be angry with Y/n, she knew that it was solely her fault that she was hurting and not the vixens. 

She snivelled, the tears only falling harder as she tried to hold back on her cries that left her lower lip trembling. Her body rolled over to the side and her arms wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders who snaked her arms around Minji’s waist. Her tears fell onto the top of Y/n’s head, taking in her scent to try and calm down, but it only reminded her of all that she had possibly lost but would wait for her to find back to Minji if it was possible. 

Y/n’s head nestled under her chin, making her close her eyes as she wished that she could provide the home that Y/n wanted but she would never be able to become. 

She never thought that tears could sting so much, that something salty could turn bitter and sour yet carry a sweet undertone because she had been aware of the outcome all along. It was expected yet it hurt so much that it almost felt good to finally go through it and not have to dread it anymore. It wasn’t something she had to be worried about anymore as the pain finally came and she didn’t have to spend every day waiting for it to finally hit her. 

Minji wanted to look at Y/n, to look into her eyes once more, to kiss her, look at her beautiful face and get lost in the girl to ease the pain that was spreading through her body like a burning fire, leaving nothing but burn marks from the damage it created. That burning passion got out of control when Y/n wasn’t able to keep it in her hold. 

She couldn’t though, she was too scared to look at her and see her not even feel the slightest bit of what she felt for her. Scared to not see her eyes slightly glossy. Scared to not see the girl at least slightly hurting because she wants to love her but maybe is just too scared and not because she loves someone else. 

She fell asleep with the promise in her heart, with the thoughts that she could wait for Y/n and she would stay until she would say it right back.

The problem was that she met Y/n too early, and said those words too late despite there not being any space in between to say them. It was wrong from the start and she had been aware of it.

It wasn’t long until she woke up because she always did when her arms felt empty, especially when she knew that Y/n was supposed to be sleeping in the same bed as her. Her bed was empty though when she tried to find the girl and pull her back into her arms. A knot tied around her heart with a brick tied to it as it dropped to the pits of hell while getting torn by everything on its way down.

It was a broken promise as she opened her eyes in the dark room and the only thing that hadn’t left was Y/n’s scent. There wasn’t a fight to put up when her eyes teared up and burned down her cheeks. Her fingers were trembling as she felt weak at the pain, the despair her body was put through, the agony of losing something she never even truly got to have. 

Minji turned on the bedside lamp, a lump in her throat that was her heart, desperately trying to push out her body and escape through her mouth. The beating was heavy, sounding in her ears, muffling everything else as she wiped at her eyes while sniffling. Her blurred vision fell on the two polaroids as the one with Y/n was flipped over and she took it, clenching her trembling jaw as the tears rolled down the side of her face and were soaked up by her pillow that was the only offer of wiping them for her. Y/n wasn’t there to wipe them. Her other hand grabbed the pillow Y/n had been lying on, hugging it and burying her nose in it while she looked at what had been written on the photo. 

I’m sorry

She still saved the picture, it was her only picture of Y/n in the end as she stared at it while slowly crumbling as her body started to shake from how she tried to contain her sobs. The picture of Y/n. 

The girl who left her, Y/n left her for someone she had been longing for, leaving Minji to long for her now. 

She hadn’t been wrong when she was sure that Y/n was in love too every time she looked her in the eye. It was just that she hadn’t been in love with Minji, that love in her eyes had been for someone else all along. It was so strong that it even stayed when she was with someone else, fooling Minji into believing that it could be her. 

Was it because of a simple text that read;

I still love you

What if Minji had told Y/n how she felt sooner?

Would she maybe leave her past behind and consider a future with Minji instead?

It all created more lumps in her throat and more tears ran down her face until a sob finally fell through her lips and she buried her face in the pillow while clutching her only photo of the girl who broke her heart. The girl tried her best to ease the pain that pulsated on her chest, rubbing at it while crying for someone who wouldn't show up.

Because…What if?

[nadvs]

　　💔　⊹　❀　︵　∘　 better off (alt ending) ⟢

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you and rafe take time apart to try to get better for each other. when you meet up, you realize your relationship is beyond repair.

content warning toxic relationship, mentions of parental abuse, all hurt/no comfort

this is an alternate sad ending to better off, inspired by this ask!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Rafe sits a foot away from you on the trail peak you used to always come to together. The sun is setting soon. The air is thick.

It’s been eighteen days since you decided to take time apart to work on yourselves. You haven’t said anything. It’s like you’re both afraid of breaking the silence.

You stare out at the horizon of where sky meets sea. Then, you meet his gaze and finally ask what’s been turning over in your head.

“Are we done?”

Rafe mournfully breathes your name, sounding defeated when he says, “You tell me.”

“What does that mean?” you say. You realize you sound just as exhausted as he does.

Frustration flares in him. He’s the one who’s always being strung along, loving you more, refusing to let you go. It’s always been like that. Now, you’re talking as if he has any power?

“I’m not the one who decides anything,” he says sharply. “You decided to break up. You decided to stop talking. You’re seriously fucking acting like anything here is up to me?”

His tone is so cutting. Mocking. You’ve been speaking for mere seconds and he’s already blaming you. He’s already angry.

But this is Rafe. He’s always angry. Maybe it’s something he’ll never change about himself. Either he can’t or he won’t.

“I’m asking because you blocked me,” you say, trying to keep your tone even, trying to have some sympathy for him.

“Not a good feeling, is it?” he snaps.

You shake your head to yourself and clasp your hands together tightly.

“So, you did it just to hurt me?” you ask.

Rafe’s jaw tenses. He doesn’t answer. It wasn’t the main reason, but he enjoyed knowing you could be trying to contact him and feeling rejected over and over again. Just like you used to do to him.

“Have you done any work on yourself? Like, at all?” you say.

The lack of belief you have in him stings. He angrily pulls out his phone to prove you wrong.

“This is what I was fucking doing, alright?” he mutters, opening his conversation with you.

A string of undelivered texts are on the screen. He blocked you just to send messages that couldn’t actually get to you.

Friday, 5:46 pm

It sucks not talking to you

Saturday, 3:01 am

You think youre so mmuch better than me and it oisses me the fuck k off

Sunday, 12:11 pm

I would take back a lot of the shit I did if I could

Sunday, 9:20 pm

I always fought to make this work and you never did. I always fucking cared more

Monday, 4:44 pm

I think about you every second. I’m going crazy

Tuesday 9:57 am

I miss your laugh

Tuesday, 3:01 pm

I wonder if you noticed

“If I noticed what?” you ask.

“That I wasn’t at that stupid party last weekend,” he admits.

“I noticed.”

He reaches for his phone.

“I’m not done,” you say, looking back down at the screen. His body tightens in irritation.

Tuesday, 11:30 pm

Obviously I love you and it’s so annoying every time you say I don’t say it enough

Yesterday, 1:20 pm

I would choose being sick together over being healthy alone. At least I’d have you

Today, 10:22 am

I just wish I was good enough

You realize your eyes have started to burn with tears. Your insides twist with a painful mix of hopelessness and a yearning to understand.

In the whirl of everything he wrote, you can’t get it out of your head that he said he’d choose being sick together. You’ve always had a fear he actually preferred dysfunction.

And while this is something you’d usually brush past, as you became an expert at ignoring his red flags, you need to be sure. Because now, you’re committed to being well.

“You’d rather be sick together?” you ask.

Rafe roughly takes his phone back. His heart feels like it’s getting wrung out.

You didn’t say you miss him too, that you love him too, that you agree that not talking sucked. You just found the flaw, the hole in him, like you always do.

He wrote all those messages and showed them to you just for you to judge him?

“Of all that,” he says with an angry exhale, “that’s what you nag me about.”

The pain of watching his anger grow right in front of you and you being desperate to stop it is too familiar.

“Sorry,” you say. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not trying to fight. I just want us both to want to be healthy, you know? I wrote - I wrote things for you, too.”

“What?” he snaps. “What did you write? How it’s never your fault?”

“No,” you reply, your voice getting louder. You take a deep breath, still so afraid of being vulnerable in front of someone who has a habit of arguing against your feelings. “The last thing I wrote was that I hope we find our way back. I miss you. And I love you, too.”

His muscles lose a bit of their tension.

“What else?” His voice is rough, almost strained.

You look out at the view again, thinking about all that you’ve wanted to tell him.

“I wrote that I used to feel good about myself around you, and then at some point, I really didn’t like who I became.”

It makes everything in him hurt.

“But I blamed you and I shouldn’t have,” you continue. “We both fought unfairly, but you didn’t bring anything out of me that wasn’t already there. I’m sorry that I made it your fault when I was mean.”

He blinks, staring at your profile as you continue to speak.

“And I didn’t like how controlling and jealous you could get,” you admit. “You didn’t trust me. I never actually did anything to make you question my loyalty, did I?”

Rafe chews on his lip. Tears prick at his eyes. He hates how you never understood this; how if you’re with him, if you love him, you shouldn’t give another man a second of your time.

“You still shouldn’t talk to other guys,” he says. “If you’re in a relationship, what are you doing smiling at some asshole who just wants to fuck you?”

You shake your head in disappointment, forehead creasing. You know you’re speaking differently than you used to, apologizing and explaining yourself carefully. But he’s the same. Rude. Domineering. Argumentative.

And he has yet to say sorry for anything. He’s still hung up on a twenty-second conversation you had with a guy at a party weeks ago, back when you weren’t even together.

He did this all the time. You’d talk to a male friend for a moment and he’d get angry. If you spoke with one of his friends, he’d visibly get tense. He’d even go through your following lists on social media and ask you why you followed every guy on the list, one by one.

You’re afraid he truly hasn’t improved one bit.

“Did you do any reading about jealousy or control?” you ask. “I can show you what I read if-”

“You act like it’s crazy to not want your girl talking to other guys,” he interrupts.

“Having a conversation with a guy doesn’t mean I’m flirting,” you retort, your own anger building now. “And it’s not even just guys! You’d even get pissed off when I went out with my friends. I’d spend the whole night texting you.”

“And blocking me,” he adds.

You let out a frustrated groan.

“Because I needed a break, Rafe. I was glued to my phone because of you,” you mutter. “It’s like you purposely started arguments so I couldn’t enjoy my night. And they all said-”

You stop yourself. You’re trying to be better and not spiteful. Not cruel.

“What?” he snaps, his voice dripping with contempt.

You can’t resist the urge. You want to hurt him.

“They all said you’re psychotic,” you say. “And that I could do so much better.”

Rafe tenses up again, looking away. His eyes are bloodshot now. You can do better. He knew that from the first date.

Guilt grips you. He was always painfully insecure. Maybe even more so than you realized. But he made you pay for it time and time again.

You don’t want to be this spiteful girl anymore. You want to be kind. Understanding. You never cared to be the bigger person before. You do now.

You think back to all the reading you’ve been doing about toxic relationships and how to dig yourself out of them.

“Jealousy is insecurity,” you begin, “and I think it’s important that you reflect and ask yourself why you’re insecure. Could it be from stuff at home? I know your dad didn’t always give you a lot of attention and that he hit you and-”

“Are you fucking serious?” Rafe mutters. Hearing you recount the traumatic stories he shared with you in confidence is too painful. He can’t hear it anymore. “You’re such a bitch for using that against me.”

You try to inhale again, but your breath is shallow and broken. Bitch. That insult is so simple, yet so vile. So dehumanizing.

This is how it always happened. The few and far between times you put your effort into having a calm, reasonable conversation, he’d explode, and then you’d explode, too.

“Don’t call me a bitch,” you snarl. “I wasn’t using it against you. I’m trying to understand you. Do you even understand yourself?”

Rafe scoffs in disbelief. You watch a tear quickly roll down his cheek. He wipes it away angrily. He doesn’t answer.

“Do you know why you act like this?” you say. “Have you thought about it at all these past few weeks?”

Rafe hates this feeling. He has lived it every day of his life. The harrowing pain of being neglected, the helplessness of being unable to control what he thinks and how he acts.

Nobody understands him. And that includes himself.

“I get it, alright?” he says, his voice cracking now. “There’s something wrong with me. You said it all the fucking time.”

Despite everything he’s hurled at you, you feel your heart break, looking at him almost curled up as he sits beside you, his cheeks streaked with tears.

You think of his texts. He said he wishes he was good enough.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” you say. “You’re good enough, okay? You’re more than good enough. I just want to understand why you treated me so bad.”

“You treated me bad, too,” he counters.

You grimace. Immediately defensive. No accountability. Just blame. He hasn’t changed at all. And you’re falling back into bad habits just by talking with him.

A few moments of silence pass between you, both of you sniffling but saying no words. You have no hope left.

“I was really hoping we could bring out the best in each other instead of the worst,” you finally say. “But if you don’t actually do the work to get better, it’s not going to happen.”

Rafe meets your eyes. He’s shattered. He’s never felt smaller. And it’s all your fault. Being with you just hurts at this point. And he doesn’t want to hurt anymore.

“Then it’s not going to happen,” he answers, tone low.

You blink away tears. You look down at your lap. You exhale. And you say the hardest possible thing.

“This is over,” you half-whisper. “Goodbye.”

You stand and he doesn’t stop you. Even though going down the trail in the dusk on foot is dangerous, he doesn’t stop you. You start to walk home and he doesn’t stop you.

Eventually, a motorcycle roars past you on the street. You know it’s him. You know he passed you and didn’t care enough to at least offer you a lift home.

But of course that’s the way your mess of a relationship ends. He claims he cares, then when it matters, he obviously doesn’t give a fuck.

As you walk home, wiping away your tears, your heart broken over the fact that he didn’t have the decency to drive you home or the love to actually try to improve himself for you, you tell yourself that eventually, you won’t give a fuck, either.

You won’t talk to him anymore. You won’t touch him anymore. You won’t ask about his day or run your fingers over his hair the way he likes or laugh together. Ever again.

One day, this won’t feel like a loss. Because whatever you had with Rafe wasn’t love. It was poison and you can’t willingly drink it anymore.

(continuation)

[undead-supernova]

Bullshit! / Masterlist / 18+

part 1 / part 3

Playlist

pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

plot: eddie runs into you unexpectedly and you think it's time to have that date a little early

contains: eddie lacking confidence, confident!reader, get to know Eddie and the reader a little better, making out, kids this is a bit more than pg-13 I'll tell you that much without spoiling it

note: sorry guys, I'm not done with this. maybe far from it. they have a dynamic unlike any other and I'm here for it.

wc: 4k

The library was maybe the last place Eddie wanted to be at one in the afternoon on a Tuesday. It was always overcrowded, riddled with students running around with coffee from the adjoining Starbucks. 

But Eddie needed a new book, having told himself that rereading The Hobbit the third time this semester was…unnecessary. Plus, his English professor told him that “we can only enact change ourselves.” 

Maybe it was a sign. Because as Eddie passed the large glass windows, he saw you sitting at one of the booths.

You looked different from every Saturday night. No makeup, hardly any jewelry except for a thin gold necklace and several rings. An oversized sweatshirt and, from his vantage point, you were wearing a pleated skirt. He even noticed that your high-top Converse were placed next to you, mismatched patterned socks adorning your feet. 

And, fuck, Eddie couldn’t help the excitement rising inside him. It should’ve embarrassed him when he started jogging towards the front door, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. All he could think about was the sound of your voice and your eyes and your touch and your kiss.

He slowed his pace as he walked past the printers and computers and found your head down in some textbook, blissfully unaware.

“Working hard or hardly working?” he asked.

And when you looked up and smiled, he could’ve sworn his heart swelled and burst like a goddamn balloon.

“Oh my gosh, hi!” you exclaimed, jumping up to give him a hug. “What the fuck are you doing here!”

It was only for a few seconds, but he couldn’t resist breathing in your intoxicating perfume and memorizing the feel of you. The curve of your back, the soft fabric of your sweatshirt scratching against his calloused fingertips.

And as you sat back down, he realized quickly why your mere touch was so alluring. It was a reminder that Saturday had been real and, on this grueling Tuesday, you still cared about his existence. You still noticed him.

“I was coming to look for something new to read,” he answered, trying to figure out what to do with his hands and failing. “What about you?”

Eddie couldn’t decipher your now raised eyebrow, watching as you lifted your pointer finger. “Sit down,” you nearly demanded, eyes flickering from him to the booth. His heart hammered in his chest as he complied, eyeing your finger following his movements. 

It was despicable how easy it was for you to get him to do whatever you wanted. Even just fucking sitting down. But he loved it. Every. Fucking. Second.

“I was in the stacks looking at the archives,” you explained. “But everyone in my class took them already.” You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Such bitches.”

“How rude,” Eddie said, all teasing with an amused smile.

He could tell you liked it, biting your lip slightly before playing along. “I know, it’s offensive.”

There was something he noticed in your expression, placing your lip back between your teeth as you scanned him up and down. Eddie was unable to keep a smile off his face, overwhelmed by the attention you gave him. Like he was a meal, but something to be savored rather than merely devoured.

He couldn’t help it when he returned the sentiment, glancing down at your skirt that was riding further and further up your thighs. It wasn’t the time to think about you like that, spread wide for him as he got on all fours. Having you barking commands at him to do it properly, rewarding him with endless praise once you deemed it good enough.

Your thighs parted just a bit more, head tilting to the side as you gave him a smirk. As if you knew exactly where his thoughts were and wanted him to keep going. And, wow, were you two really just eye-fucking each other in the library?

“Want some coffee?” he asked, trying to distract himself. Practically flinching, pulling himself back from the table. “I was gonna head to Starbucks afterwards.”

The sexual tension broke at the question and he watched as you fiddled with your pen. But you didn’t flounder like he did. He wondered if you ever could. 

“Yeah, I’d love to. I have to finish something up but—”

“Oh, I’ll go by myself,” he offered.

“You sure?” you asked, clearly surprised.

“Yeah, no biggie,” he assured you, standing up.

Expression turning a bit sheepish, you said, “I will warn you… My order is complicated.”

He shrugged. “Hit me.”

And the order wasn’t complicated, per se. Eddie just wanted to know how the hell had you come up with a “dirty iced chai with oat milk and two pumps of cinnamon dolce”. Regardless, Eddie tucked that into his Notes app for later. If there was a later.

After grabbing himself a large black coffee and the concoction you'd asked for, he made his way back over to you. Rounding the corner, he noticed the way you moved back and forth between a book and your laptop, sighing and mumbling something to yourself. But as if you could sense him, you turned and watched him approach, a smile appearing on your lips.

“Oh, a Venti, huh?” you teased, making grabbing motions at him anyways.

He shrugged, sitting back down. “You deserve it.”

“You know what? You’re right.” You took it from his hand, taking a long sip. “I hate Starbucks coffee,” you said, licking your lips. “It’s awful. But this is the best thing on the menu, so thank you.”

“Yeah, of course.” Eddie hoped you couldn’t see him blush. "I hate it, too. It's just the only thing we got." 

“God, I know. Also, I can Venmo you or—"

“Absolutely not,” he interrupted, waving you away. 

“Okay,” you conceded, not bothering to argue further. Just took another sip and sat back. Glanced out the window before back at him. “Wanna go on that date today?”

“Today?” he asked, nearly gobsmacked.

Nervousness ran along his limbs, not fully prepared to be with you. Alone. Just the two of you. It’d taken him hours to go to bed after dropping you off the other night. Any time he thought he was done masturbating, it just came with another round. Like a goddamn creep.

“Why not?”

“Aren’t you doing research?” he asked, feeling his face grow hot.

And if you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it.

“Oh my god, I would rather die than look at this shit any longer. I’ve been here since eight.” You paused before throwing a hand over your face. “Unless you’re busy. Sorry I didn’t ask first.”

“No, no. I’m free,” he lied, deciding at that moment to skip his class. He’d catch up on Algebra with his tutor—it’s not like he paid attention anyways. That damn tutor was the only reason he understood a fraction of it. Pun absolutely intended. 

And he swore you nearly jumped up, grabbing your shoes and shoving them on before packing up your backpack, the weight of it starting to look daunting. Book after book, plus your laptop and pencil case and…

Without thought, Eddie grabbed it for you, slinging it over his shoulder. Fuck, it was heavy. “Here, I got it.”

You stared up at him, clearly shocked. “Oh, you sure?”

But Eddie gave you a smile and gestured towards the window with his head. “Yeah, come on. I’ll drive.”

By all accounts, Eddie was actually…sweet. It was nearly sickening how sweet he could be, carrying your backpack for you and opening the car door (despite it being a stalker van). Asking what music you liked to listen to—everything, was the answer. And you didn’t just like every genre, you loved it— Fiddling with the air conditioning and telling you to change it if you get too hot or too cold. Asking if his music was too loud, asking how you were doing now, away from your books.

You were starting to find him ridiculously intriguing, unsure how to take his kindness. It wasn’t a bad thing by any means. You just…weren’t used to a man being so considerate of your feelings. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t think you deserved it—that was obvious every time a man got a little too close for comfort and you had to humiliate them. 

But there was just something that felt new about Eddie. When he’d approached you at the party, you sized him up like every other guy shooting their shot. But he caught your eye immediately when he stumbled over his words. And when a jolt seized your veins at that first touch on his arm, you knew you were hooked. 

You’d gone to bed that night with a smile on your face, softly licking along your lips to savor the lingering taste of Eddie’s mouth. It was tinged with beer, something you used to hate. Something you now loved, thoughts echoing one word:

New.

Eddie helped you out of the car once he’d parked, even insisting that you let him get it for you. It made you feel quite warm in the face, surprised by his assertion. Made you feel like a lady, something you hadn’t ever felt at the hands of a man.

As you moved through the museum, you were quiet, whispering now and then about certain art styles and their importance during their corresponding time periods. And you were glad that Eddie wasn’t a douchebag about noise level inside a museum.

He never interrupted, never poked fun at your intelligence. He’d even asked more questions, all hushed and contained, some even you didn’t know the answer to. Pocketing them for later to ask your professors. 

But Eddie rarely gave up any information about himself, leaving you to tap his foot with yours and ask him questions. Every time, his face got hot and he murmured responses with a shrug, as if he didn’t think it was anything special. 

How was it not? He was still undecided, having dreams of working on video games and helping direct the narratives in new and innovative ways to engage with the player more. You didn’t know much about video games, but you still listened. Still gave him the attention he’d given you. It wasn’t even hard—he was so animated once he got into something he was passionate about. It was endearing, actually.

You ended up sitting down on one of the benches together, staring at an abstract painting by an artist you’d never heard of. 

“Do you like abstract?” you asked him, whispering despite the empty room.

Eddie shrugged, eyes trained on the swirling colors. “I think so? I mean, it’s cool to look at. I just don’t really know what I’m looking for. Or what I’m looking at, for that matter.”

That brought a smile to your face. His statement wasn’t judgmental or dismissive. It was…pensive. Contemplative. 

“I think of it like music,” you said. “The different colors and movements are like different instruments. They’re all separate but they come together to make something magical.”

For emphasis, you leaned in closer to him, your face and shoulder fully pressed against him. Raised your arm to point at the sharp flicks of red hurling towards the top right of the canvas. You could’ve sworn you heard Eddie suck in a breath, having to suppress a smirk at the effect you had over him. 

“That’s like a trumpet, bright and loud. Furious in nature but soaring off the page.” Then you pointed toward the royal blue splatters, more round than some of the other scattered pigments. “And this is like, oh, I don’t know. I guess, a trombone. Low and sultry. Rounded. Keeping everything together.”

Eddie turned his head, your noses nearly touching. You couldn’t help the shiver running down your neck at the tickling sensation you got from his hair. A smile you hadn’t seen before enveloped his face as you made eye contact.

“So, you’re saying it’s like jazz.”

A breathy laugh left your lips, finding yourself intimidated by his pointed gaze. By the way you could study the rich brown in his eyes, all bright and energized despite his calm demeanor. The stubble rising from his pores, all scratchy and wicked. 

“Well, uh,” you murmured, surprised by your inability to form words. “It doesn’t have to be, but, um, I guess this one made me think of jazz. The way it kinda…” your voice trailed off as he seemingly leaned in further, his scent like smoke fogging your senses. “It’s not so rigid. It’s improv. It’s, um…”

“Varied?” he offered, his smile growing. “Unique?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Eddie let out a hum. “I think I get it now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s beautiful.”

For once, you had to look away, back at the painting to try and control your breathing. There were flashes of things you wanted to do, both tender and wildly too inappropriate for the setting. Things you wanted beyond physicality, beyond the limits you’d always set for yourself.

And as if he could hear the pounding of your heart, his fingertips touched yours. Slowly weaved his fingers through the spaces left open. Took a piece of your heart with him.

Eddie might not be exactly forward with his actions, but he knew what he wanted. All you could do was squeeze his hand and hope that one day you’d get to see him in full bloom. 

“Why do you do that thing?” you asked.

Eddie glanced over at you, one hand on the steering wheel. The other fiddled with a hole in his pants, needing something to grasp onto. His heart rate just started to slow down, giving him a chance to breathe. 

There was just something about you that drove him mad.

“What thing?”

“Act like you’re not interesting.”

Sheepishly, Eddie shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know. I guess it’s ‘cause you’re way more interesting than me.”

“Bullshit,” you said sternly, a scoff leaving your lips.

“What!” he exclaimed, looking over at you again. “It’s true.”

You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “You highly underestimate yourself.”

Eddie snorted. “I’m a stereotype.”

“Bullshit,” you repeated, starting to sound genuinely frustrated. “Who the hell told you that?”

He didn’t know where to start. 

Being a loser wasn’t a big deal for him in high school. Grew up with his father’s reputation preceding him. Got through it the best he could with some awesome friends along the way. Finally graduated high school and raised his GPA enough to come here. It was simple. In his mind, he was simple.

But spending the latter half of summer, the one he dared never to speak of, without his friends and then coming here without anyone else… Well, he struggled to find anyone willing to be his friend. He tried. Really, he did. But it never came to fruition.

And what was more embarrassing than joining a D&D club before being told he didn’t belong within the first hour? Him, the DM of Hawkins, hell, Indiana, being told he didn’t belong. That he didn’t play right. That he just didn’t fit.

He spent so much time alone. It was starting to make him miss Hawkins, the nostalgia starting to kick in. Hawkins, the place he loathed. The place he wanted nothing to do with. 

He was a nineteen-year-old Freshman with no friends and an undecided future.  

His silence must’ve lasted longer than he thought because you pointed at the nearly empty Walmart parking lot and asked, “Actually, would you pull in for a sec?”

“Yeah, of course,” he responded, heading towards the very back row, far from any remaining cars. Giving the two of you privacy just in case you started to yell at him for being a loser or something. He didn’t know. You were just so unpredictable.

But once he parked, you were unbuckling your seatbelt and grabbing his chin. Squished the bottom of his cheeks in one hand as you pulled his face closer to yours. He must’ve stopped breathing, hands slipping from the steering wheel.

“You better start listening to me, Eddie,” you breathed, all low and sensual, moving your lips to barely graze his bottom lip. “I really don’t like you talking about yourself like that.”

Eddie could feel sweat collecting beneath his bangs as you continued your torture, raking your fingernails down his throat before wrapping your hand around it. He gasped, earning a small smile out of you.

“I don’t waste my time with boring people, as conceited as that sounds,” you continued, the left corner of your mouth lifting. Eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips, eyelashes fluttering with each micromovement. “But I never claimed to be the nicest person, did I?” Eddie still wouldn’t speak. He didn’t know if he could without moaning. “You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve met. And the nicest, which is probably more than I deserve. You’ve seen the way I treat other men.”

“They deserved it,” he whispered, feeling his cock twitch when your grip tightened. “Every one of them.”

“Yeah, they did,” you replied, raising the pitch of your voice. Like you were taunting him. “But you’re different, aren’t you?”

“I-I am?”

“You’re sweet,” you breathed, giving slow kisses to his cheeks. Giggling when you noticed the blood rushing into them so rapidly. “And you’re a real nice guy, you know that?”

“I, uh, I try to be,” he stumbled as you moved your lips past his jaw and against his ear. Went limp at the feeling of you biting the lobe, fanning your breath over it.

“You do such an excellent job,” you whispered. “So nice and kind and funny. You really get me going, Eddie. I didn’t think I’d be so affected by you.”

When you pulled back to face him, you chuckled. He couldn’t blame you. His eyes must’ve been popping out of his head, mouth agape at your pretty words. What was even more fucked up was how genuine you sounded, like you weren’t just saying these things to say them. You meant it.

“I thought about you a lot this weekend,” you said breathily, removing your hand from his neck to start coiling his hair around your finger.

“Me?”

“You,” you said with a nod.

He licked his lips. “W-what about me?”

“About how interesting you are. And not to get too vulgar,” you said with a giggle, all teasing and devilish. “But I couldn’t help but think about taking your cock down my throat.” Another giggle as you tapped your fingers along his collarbone. “Thought about what it looks like, if it’s half as pretty as you.”

Eddie couldn’t stop the way his cock strained against his jeans, the neverending praise overwhelming him. “T-thank you,” he responded, unable to suppress the whine that he’d tried to contain when your other hand began palming him over his jeans. 

“You, um,” he tried to continue, taking a deep breath through his nose to keep his composure. “I-if you want, you can. Anytime. Any time.” 

“It’d be so easy like this, you know,” you nearly purred. “To ride you, to leave you a blubbering mess and thanking me for taking care of you. I think you’d really, really like that.”

“You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he groaned, fingers now reaching out to white-knuckle the steering wheel. 

“Am I wrong?”

A tiny scoff left his lips as you nearly massaged his cock, knowing that if you didn’t stop soon, he was going to burst. “You already know the answer to that.”

“I want to hear it, Eddie.” You nipped his neck, causing him to jump a little. But you wouldn’t stop, whispering filthy words as you continued to mark him. “I want to hear you tell me how good it would feel for me to suck you dry.” He continued to nod, each word sending him further into the deep end. “Before getting you hard again, just ‘cause I can, and getting on top so I can milk you with my pussy.” He moaned at your vulgarity. “Which is dripping, by the way.”

Without any warning, Eddie was cumming, an explosive rush that had him twitching and jerking. Panting and dry mouthed. You didn’t remove your hand, merely chuckling and rubbing him through his jeans until he was able to breathe normally again.

Before Eddie could get the chance to apologize for his behavior, you were pulling him in with an agonizingly slow kiss, your fingers damp from the cum seeping through his jeans. 

You tugged at his lower lip with your teeth before letting out a hum. Gazed up into his puppy dog eyes and said, “Good boy.”

After a few moments of Eddie being able to think clearly again, you found your eyes wandering around his console before settling on a pack of cigarettes. 

“You smoke?” you asked, plucking them from the cupholder and shaking the box in front of his face.

He nodded, seemingly quiet despite what transpired. “Want one?”

“Absolutely,” you responded, quick to take two out and hand one over. Watched him roll the windows down. Even went so far as to light both cigarettes for you like a gentleman. 

You knew he was still coming down from that high. It wasn’t like you could judge when the wetness collecting between your thighs was probably staining the carseat. It took everything in you not to beg him to take you right then and there. But you were a lady (of sorts) and as a lady, you were content with saving yourself for another day.

Besides, it was nice to see him so calm now. Like a weight had been lifted, if only for a moment. It was still a moment.

“Post-nut clarity cigarette,” you joked, taking a slow drag and glancing out at the afternoon sun. 

“Was that…not embarrassing?”

That was when you realized what was happening.

“Are you kidding me? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you said truthfully. 

“I’m sure it’s totally hot,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Ah, yes. You supposed it was embarrassing for a guy to have creamed his pants without so much as a kiss. But that didn’t bother you at all. You knew it would be different once you were alone, edging him until he was begging you for more. Nothing would make you happier.

You ignored him. “You know, if you want us to go any further, you’re gonna have to earn it,” you said plainly, checking over your nails to make sure the paint hadn’t chipped too bad.  

“How?”

“Once you learn to be nice to yourself.” You shrugged before glancing back over at his wide-eyed expression. “I know there’s something more to you than what you think of yourself. I saw it at the party and I’m seeing it now. You just have to see that, Eddie. That’s really all there is to it.”

Eddie’s lips seemed to form a pout before he took a few hearty puffs, the smoke billowing around you. Looked around. Looked down at his lap. Looked back up at you. Mumbled, “So I can’t, like, go down on you right now?”

A laugh surged out of you so quickly that you started coughing. You waved him away when his concern sounded, ending up laughing harder before you could contain yourself.

“As much as I’d love to give you the privilege of eating me out right now, I think it’s best to wait until you’ve shown some improvement.”

“So there’s a chance?” he asked. 

You leaned back in towards his face, opening his mouth with your thumb. Taking another drag, you put your lips to his and blew the smoke into his mouth. Felt him breathe it in before letting it out through his nose. 

You smirked. “If you’re desperate for a piece of me, you could always lap up what I left behind on your car seat.”

He groaned, taking a deep breath while rolling his eyes. “God, you’re a fucking menace.”

“Honey, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

as per usual, thanks to @strangergraphics for letting me use her dividers and looking over my work hehehe

[eyesxxyou]

Confessions pt.iii

♡ hobie brown x religious!reader

rating. m

word count. 7.7k

synopsis. after years of being missing, Hobie finally returns back to his hometown where his childhood crush still waits for him. but you're more dedicated to God than ever and he couldn't care less. he wants you and he intends show you all that you're missing out on

♡ °｡ ⋆⸜ warning: religious themes, straight up blasphemy, like serious sacrilege, abuse, a lot of angst, oral (m.recieving), mentions of other sexual acts (such as fingering, cumming in chest, masturbation, and outercourse), sex in church, riding, first time sex, squirting, confessions ;))), disownment, Hobie being a bit of an avoidant asshole

Part.ii

Hobie let you keep the pictures you took. “So you have something better to touch yourself to at night.” He winked at you as he neatly tucked the two pictures into your bra. Anywhere else, your parents might have found them. He was always thinking ahead, maybe a little further than you.

When Hobie took you home, he told you to tell your parents that the two of you went to the creek for bible study. You’ve never lied to your parents before. You weren’t sure you could do it. You wrung your hands against the gas tank of his motorcycle, the cold air whipping at your face as you flew down the streets. The streetlights were coming on, you had to be home soon. Hobie got you there in record time. Of course, breaking a few traffic laws along the way but he got you there.

You hopped off his bike, readjusting yourself and ensuring that you looked just the same as you did before you left. Hobie offered you back your rosary which you had almost forgotten completely and when you reached out for it, he grabbed your hand. “I don’ wanna wait ‘til next Sunday to see ya, luv. When do y’think we’ll have anotha bible study?”

You looked back at the front door to your house to find a shadow walking through the living room towards the front door. You took your rosary and retracted your hand quickly. “Tuesday after I get off of work. Now go, before they try to invite you inside.”

“I might’ jus’ stay then.”

You hit him on the shoulder and he laughed softly, eyeing the door cracking open over your shoulder. “I’ll see ya Tuesday, then. Keep yaself busy while ‘m gone.” He teased before ripping away on his motorcycle, leaving you flustered and overly aware of the two polaroid pictures pressed against your breast.

“Did he not want to come inside? I made dinner.” Your mother called from the front door. You looked back at her and shook your head. “No, Mama, he has to get somewhere.” You made your way inside. You kept your head low. You set your rosary down on the coffee table and removed your shoes beside the door, replacing them with house slippers.

Your father was already in the dining room eating and as you passed him, he stopped you with a question. “Where were you at?”

Your heart raced and your mouth dried up. You grabbed at your dress then fiddled with a braid from your hair. “With Hobie at the old playground. He finally opened up to listening to the word so I thought it might be good to do bible study together.” You glanced up to look at him, your eyes pleading for approval. You’ve never lied to them before and they had no reason to believe you were lying now. 

“How often will you be doing bible studies?” Your mother asked. Your father continued eating, neither of them suspected a thing. You almost felt powerful, being able to keep this one thing to yourself. You knew something they didn't and it felt like a sort of control you were never before allowed in your life. You didn’t even feel guilty about it.

“Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.” It came out of you so easily. You stopped trembling and fiddling with yourself and went to go make yourself a plate. 

That was the beginning of it, the beginning of everything. The lying, meeting with Hobie, exploring the pleasures of the body with him in the secret of his hotel room. You became someone new behind that door, every moment of it captured by his camera and printed out on his bed for you to later keep. He made you cum in ways you never knew was possible and you learned slowly how to make him cum too.

“Jus’ like– fuck, dove….ngh~ shit.” You sat between his legs with your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, suckling and kissing. You haven’t gone any further than that for the past 2 minutes, too intimidated by his monstrous size to take any more of him into your mouth. “Jus’ a lil’ more tongue,” He hissed when you followed his command, your tongue timidly flicking from the underside of his tip to the end of his slit. You were a natural at this. 

He had you bobbing your head soon enough, his hand on the back of your head to guide your motions. "Open tha’ mouth of ya’s a lil’ more, luv.” You opened your mouth a little further and kept your teeth back like he told you to. You hummed softly and it sent Hobie into a spiral.

You had him moaning, a hand pushing your head up and down on his fat cock, that pretty, little mouth of yours only able to go a little under half way before you began to gag. He grabbed his camera. "Look a' me, pretty girl." Your wet gaze flickered up at him, teary and gorgeous, drool dribbling down the rest of his cock. And when he came, he came, he pulled out from your mouth, jerking off over your face with your tongue hanging out of your mouth while he groaned your name and cursed you for being so pretty.

He came on your face, across your cheek, one of your eyes closed so it didn't get in, some landing on your tongue. He took a picture of that as well, letting the picture print out before grabbing your chin and slapping his cock against your cheek. "You're such a good, fuckin' girl."

Your heart always fluttered when he praised you, each meeting only solidifying what was always there, hiding beneath your love for God which was really only a redirection of your love for him. Did he notice the way you looked at him like he was Christ on Earth, the way you looked at him like he was all you ever wanted in your life. He couldn't be oblivious to the way you worshiped him, like he was your very own messiah.

He's shown you more in a few weeks than God has ever shown you in your entire life. He's shown you pleasures you never before thought existed, done things to you you never wanted anyone else to do. Yet, the two of you still have never had sex in the traditional sense. You've been close, let him rub his cock against your bare clit until you both came, but he never pushed into you, never broke your hymen as you were told happens when you have sex for the first time.

It made you feel better. Made you feel like if this all hit the fan, at least you'd have some semblance of your dignity still left with you, you wouldn't be completely ruined by him. As much as you loved Hobie, you did not trust him entirely to stay, did not trust him not to break your heart.

But you had to ask. Why didn't he want to? He never showed any interest at all to slide himself inside you and claim you as his. Did he truly mean to leave soon? Was it a kindness he was attempting to offer you?"

"Why don't you want to have sex with me… real sex, I mean?" You asked in something of a whisper as you lay in his bed naked, wrapped up in his sheets while he stood in his bathroom to wet a rag to clean you up. He had jerked himself over you and came on your chest because he liked your tits more than you could ever imagine and needed to see his cum on them. He had snapped a picture of it, of course, let you keep it. You’d take it home and store it in a shoebox tucked away in your closet, waiting until your parents were surely asleep before you took it out and chose one to touch yourself to.

Hobie never answered you, just shook his head and murmured something under your breath. “I's almost time for you to go home, isn’ i’? Le’s get’cha cleaned up, doll.” He left you to all your wild conclusions. He was going to leave soon, you figured. He was just trying to preserve something for you, let you have this one thing he hasn’t selfishly taken from you. At least now, clumsy touching down your body when you get married wouldn't be enough to impress you, not when you've felt the skillful hands of Hobie all over your body.

The ride back home was silent. There was a sudden distance between the two of you. Hobie had bought you your very own helmet after you voiced your own concerns about safety. Would he use this for another girl he meets once he leaves? The thought made your heart squeeze. 

In front of your house, you hopped off of his bike and removed your helmet so he could strap it to the side of his motorcycle. Hobie could see the space you had placed between you two and attempted to backtrack to a time when you hadn’t become so upset with him.

“I’ll see ya Sunday… righ’, luv?” His voice was so beautiful, so gentle. Your heart soared and swooned for him. You looked him in the eyes and saw his lighthearted smile in them. It forced a smile onto your face. You bit your lips to hide it and twirled your finger around a braid as you nodded. “Fine.”

Hobie would have kissed you if you weren’t outside your parents house so he nodded softly, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he revved up his bike and drove away. You watched him go, letting him round the corner before you turned on your toes and made your way inside the house.

There was no greeting when you came in, no warm smell of cooking in the air. You frowned, not taking the time to remove your shoes as you walked further into the house. “Mama, Daddy? You in here?” You turned the corner into the dining room and found your father sitting at the table with your mother standing behind him and a familiar shoebox sitting in the middle of the table.

Your heart dropped. It sank so low that it boiled in your stomach acid, so low that you thought you might throw it up. You mouth ran dry with fear. "Mama?…Daddy?"

"Get over here." Your father always had a rather authoritarian voice but you had never heard him so angry, so demanding. You lowered your head in shame and slowly, cautiously, made your way to the table, tears already dappling your cheeks. "Sit down." And you sat, your head still hanging low, your tears now falling onto the table and soaking into the tablecloth.

Your father grabbed the box, opened the lid, and dumped all the pictures onto the table. Your lips wrapped around Hobie's cock, his face clearly between your legs, cum on your chest, his long, slender fingers stuffing your cunt, and so much more. All of them incriminating you. Your mother turned her head away, unable to bear the idea of her sweet, innocent daughter participating in such acts.

Your father stood, his hands on the table, his imposing figure looming over you as you trembled beneath him. “Look at me.” His voice was low but dangerous. This was not a time to disobey him. You raised your head slowly, your bottom lip quivering with terror. His gaze was hard and unforgiving. This was not something you just brush off and forgive. How brutal it must be to figure out your daughter is nothing but a whore who’s been lying to you this entire time. 

“Is that you in these photos?”

You sniffled, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. You hesitated, unsure of what to say.

“Don’t you even think of lying to me, girl. Is this you?”

You could do nothing except nod and in an instant, he brought his hand across your cheek and struck you. You cupped your aching cheek and sobbed, choking out apologies and begging for forgiveness in near incoherent babbles. 

Your father paced the length of the dining room while your mother hurriedly picked up the photos and put them back into the box. She was the one who stumbled upon the photos after looking through your closest for a pair of shoes you had borrowed from her. She had cried as she brought the photos to your father who immediately became enraged. She mourned her young, innocent daughter who would have done no wrong before Hobie came back, her daughter who had fallen so far from grace.

“Honey, you can tell us if he forced you to do any of this.” Your mother so desperately wished you would place all the blame on Hobie, that you’d tell them he had tricked you into performing such acts so that you could still be pure, could still be blameless. No one had to know that way.

How could you do such a thing? You were an adult, you could make your own decisions about these things and you made it. You chose to do everything that happened between you and Hobie. You were just as at fault as he was. But you’d never throw him under the bus

“No, no Hobie didn’t force me to do anything. I made the choice myself.”

“You whore!” Your father barked at you. If your cheek wasn’t already swelling, he would have slapped you again. He paced again a little, running his hands down his face as he always did when he was stressed. Then he turned back to you. “Did you have intercourse?”

You shook your head. “No, we didn’t do…that,” you managed to say between hiccups. You used the backs of your hands to wipe your tears from your cheeks. “Nothing like that.”

“Good, you’re not completely ruined then.” There was something soul-crushing about hearing ones father tell them that they were ruined all because someone made them feel good. But sex ruined people here, you forgot. How absurd the idea seemed now. You didn't feel any less than you did before. In fact, you never felt better about yourself. 

“You will not be seeing Hobart again. No talking, no looking, no breathing in his direction. I want zero interaction with him.”

“You can’t do that! I’m an adult!” You stood up from your seat and your father raised his hand to you again, ready to strike you back down. The threat made you sit back down, your lips sealing. Your father smacked his hand on the table in front of you. “You live in my house, you will abide by my rules. You’re acting like an insolent child. You have no idea what you’re doing. You will no longer interact with Hobart, you will no longer be doing anything that is non-essential. You will work, then come home, go to church, then come home. You will do this while your mother and I look for a suitor to take your hand because we cannot trust you to choose someone on your own.”

Shaking your head, you let out a tear-filled yet firm, “No.” 

“No?”

“NO!” You refused. You couldn’t imagine a world where you weren’t with Hobie, didn’t belong to him in every way, shape, and form. You’d rather become a nun before you married anyone who wasn’t him. Even if he didn’t feel the same. Maybe he’d leave again, maybe he’d put you in his rearview and find someone else but you’d always have a piece of him in your soul, you’d look at all your favorite things and find him there. 

Your father fumed. You’ve never refused him before. It was the devil inside you, he concluded. You have been possessed by a demon because his daughter would never act in such a way. He took you by the bicep and began to drag you through the house and up the stairs to your room.

Your mother said nothing to discourage him, did nothing to stop him. Never before had you ever felt more betrayed. The one person in the world meant to protect you and she simply stood by and watched him brutalize you. His grip would later leave a giant hand-shaped bruise on your arm and your cheek would remain swollen into the next morning.

He tossed you into your room and stood in the doorway with his imposing figure standing above you. “Until you give me my daughter back, you harlot, you will remain in here. Tomorrow, you’re going to burn those pictures in the backyard.” He began to leave before turning back to look at you one last time, “Pray for forgiveness and God will lead you back to Him.”

He left you crying on the ground in your bedroom with the peeling wallpaper and your open closet. You curled up into a ball on the carpeted floor and sobbed to yourself. All you wanted was for Hobie to wrap his arms around you and tell you everything would be okay.

You remained awake late into the night, lying in your small, twin size mattress you’ve had since childhood, Your hands stroked your cheeks where Hobie had held your face and kissed you. It’s always the kisses that really get you, the kisses that stay with you. They feel the most intimate of all the actions performed on you, the way he takes you gently and asks with just his tongue for you to trust him and you do every single time. His kisses felt like love, though you knew better than to label it as such.

You’re half asleep, tracing your lips with your fingertips with dried tears streaking your  swollen cheeks when you hear a tap against your window. You thought nothing of it until it happened again, and again, and again. It was very obviously a bird of something tapping its beak against your window but when you turned in your bed, you found that there was no bird, just the moonlight. 

Then you saw a pebble fly up and hit your window and knew that the disturbance was not by accident. You tossed your duvet from your body and slid out of bed to go check it out. At the wet end of your house, the familiar figure of Hobie standing beneath your window with a handful of gravel he had picked up from the front of your house. That coy smile of his as he reached into his pile and tossed another pebble at your window before mouthing, “Open up.”

You sighed with utter relief that he was hear. You moved frantically to unlock the window before sliding it open and sticking your head out. “What are you doing here? My father will kill you!” You asked but all you wanted was for him to be here with you with his hands all over you. You wanted him in your bed with you, whispering promises that he’d never leave you again, that everything was okay, that he was just as in love with you as you were with him and that the two of you would run away together.

“I decided I ain’ wanna wait ‘till Sunday t’ see ya again… and my mum cursed me to hell for ‘what I did to ya’.” Hobie shrugged. He dropped all the gravel in his hands and wiped the dust off on his pants. “Can I come up? I’ll jus’ climb the gutter.” 

You looked back and listened for a moment. Upon hearing one of your father’s monstrous snores, you looked back to your lover and nodded. “Just be quiet, my parents are sleeping.” 

“As a spider, luv, as a spider.” 

You watched Hobie carefully climb his way up the side of your house by the gutter. You were surprised by his strength. He was a rather lanky and slender guy but he had a surprising amount of muscle. He was up to your window in no time. You stepped back to give him the space to get inside. He held your window frame and came in feet first before sliding the rest of his body inside.

Your room looked just the same as it did when the two of you were young, the same floral wallpaper, the same pretty white vanity against the wall on the other side of your room across from your bed, covered in makeup and decorations like bows and pearls. Your stuffed animals were now on a shelf rather than on your bed. Your duvet was still the same too, pink and white with roses. It was all so pretty, so delicate, so chaste.

You were in your pajamas, in a pretty, little nightgown that became see-through under the moonlight. He could see the slopes of your body, the dips and curves, the little bows on the sides of your panties. If only he had come under better circumstances.

You rushed him the moment his feet met the floor, tackling him with your arms wrapped around his slender neck. You sobbed into his neck, babbling on and on about what had happened. Hobie stroked the length of your back and whispered in your ear soft words of assurance.

“You can’t be here, Hobes.” You suddenly retracted from him. Your father was a deep sleeper, but if your mother woke up at any point, your father would follow soon after with his shotgun.

Hobie bent down to begin to unlace his boots, implying that he intended to stay for a while. “I jus’ wan’ed to come see ya, baby. Tha’s all. I needed t’make sure you were okay.” He pulled off his boots and put them to the side, still so tall that you only reached his chest. 

It was only then that Hobie saw the swell of your cheek and was quick to come to caress it. He could feel the welt of a handprint against your once unmarked skin. His eyes, once so nonchalant and lighthearted, darkend with worry, with anger. “Did he do this to ya?” He touched the welt so tenderly and even then you flinched away from him, nodding.

Hobie began to make his way towards your bedroom door, determined to get revenge. Who could ever look at a face like yours and think to hurt you? How dare your own father be the one to hurt you? You had to stand between him and the door to stop him, every word of “stop” falling upon deaf ears, blinded by rage.

“Please, Hobes.” You placed your hand upon his chest and pushed back on him softly. “Don’t make things worse. Just hold me…please. That’s all I need right now.”

You went back to your bed and laid down with enough space for Hobie to join you. Obviously he came to lay down with you. If this was what you needed then he’d be her for you in any way he could. He fit a bit awkwardly, his feet hanging off of the end of your bed in a rather comical way. You laid facing each other, tucked in close together. Hobie radiated warmth and made your duvet completely obsolete. You curled in as close as possible.

Hobie caressed your face tenderly, stared at the beauty of your features even with your eyes cried red and raw, your swollen cheeks, and the tears streaming down your face. How was he supposed to break this recent news to you? It would break you, he knew it would, but he had no time to put it lightly. Time was running out fast. Come morning, the two of you would have one less day together.

"I'm leavin' soon." With those three words, all your fears were confirmed. Your one and only support system was leaving you, your only semblance of relief from this choking world was going to let it suffocate you. You stared at him, your eyes glossing over. "I thought you said–"

"I know wha' I said. I know. 'm sorry." He watched the way tears rolled down your cheeks. His thumbs stroked away the tears that formed before they could fall but you needed to cry, you needed to. If you didn’t cry, what else was there to do? "'M sorry I lied but I need t' leave. My mum doesn’ wan’ me here no more. I gotta leave ya here, dove. ‘M tryna show kindness, not to fuck up ya life even more." 

Kindness? Kindness? This was not kindness. This was cruelty. His solution was to just run? To abandon you? Did you truly mean so little to him that he could just up and leave you again. What were you supposed to do without him? How long did you have left with him.

"When?"

"After Mass on Sunday." Just 3 days. Too soon, far too soon, not enough time to make things right. “Is that what you came here to tell me?” Hobie’s eyes softened with guilt and for the first time, he shifted his gaze away from yours. “I couldn’ go wit’cha thinkin’ I just abandoned ya.”

But that was exactly what he was doing. He was abandoning you. Just like all those years ago. How many more years would it be until he came back? Would you still be in love with him by then, suppressed behind many years of absence? Would you forgive him for leaving or would the resentment stay for the rest of your life? You resented him, his ability to leave when things got rough, his ability to ruin your life then run away when the consequences finally caught up with you.

No need for him to be gone now. You needed him out of your house or you might scream at him, scream your lungs out until your heart was on the floor and your tears drowned your words. Scream until you tore your vocal cords, coughed up blood, coughed up rose petals.

"Get out." Your expression hardened. "Get out of my room, get out of my house, get out of my life. If you're going to leave then stay out. I don't need you coming back in 5 years to just ruin my life again." You got up and marched over to the window where he left his boots. You picked them up and threw them at him. "Leave and stay away. Never come back, Hobie. Never. If you really want to be kind, you'd let me live my life."

Hobie barely managed to get his shoes on before you were pulling him out of your bed and shoving him towards your window.

"Y/n–"

"Get out!" It's the loudest your voice has gotten so far. He's never seen you so angry. He really fucked up, really fucked you up, fucked up your life. It's best if he just left, left this town, left you alone entirely. So he said nothing more and climbed out of the window, sliding down the gutter.

There was nothing left to say.

Your parents made you burn the photos the next day before locking you back in your room for the next 2 days. They only let you out to eat and use the restroom. You weren't allowed any other privileges, not for the damned daughter. They left you with your rosary and your bible, made to only read scripture and pray the evil out of your body and for forgiveness from the Lord.

The only time you were allowed out of your room, out of the house, was on Sunday for morning mass. You were relieved to just be able to get out and get some fresh air. You took a well-deserved shower, your skin pale and your lips were dry, you trembled under the hot shower water as it poured down your body, praying.

You fasted every Sunday morning, breakfast skipped for the meal to be made after. You and your family woke up and immediately went to church at 7 in the morning and all you thought about was if Hobie has already left or if he was truly waiting until after mass to go.

You found out when you got there. Hobie and his mother were sitting on the far opposite end of the church from where you and your family usually sit. You caught his gaze for a moment and broke it as fast as you had gained it when your father grabbed your wrist and dragged you away towards your usual pew. He was still here, maybe waiting to say goodbye, a luxury he would not be afforded. 

Mass went on as usual, with your sweaty parish and his long sermons. An hour in, you asked your mother if you could use the restroom and you were told to make it quick. A small luxury given to you as you stood, adjusted you dress, and made your way to the back of the church towards the old bathrooms in desperate need for renovation.

You passed the confessional cabinet along the way, to and from the restroom. On your way back, you heard the smallest bit of a whisper. “Doll.” It came from one side of the cabinet, the unmistakable accented voice of Hobie coaxing you over. You stood before the booth, debating over whether you should just leave him there or play his stupid little game one last time.

He was leaving today, what more harm can he do to you?

You opened the other door and took a step inside. Never before have you been in the confessional booth. You figured that your parents would eventually make you confess your sins to the Father at some point and you’d fall in with one of the many sinners in town. 

You sat on the bench, looking at Hobie’s obscured face through the carved out design in the mahogany wood of the cabinet. “What do you want, Hobie?” Your voice was cold and uncaring but belied that all you wanted to do was find his tongue with yours and let him take you right here. All or nothing, ‘take the last bit of me before you go’.

“I jus’ wan’ed to talk, dove.” Hobie rubbed his hands together nervously. It’s been so long since he’s been nervous but if anyone deserved such an emotion, it would be you. The two of you had left things off horribly and he couldn’t bear to leave without leaving things off on a better note. “I though’ maybe–” he began to chuckle, “maybe we i’ would be easier to confess wha’s on our min’s in here.

“I know ya have no reason to wanna talk t’me, but jus’... I know you have a lot on ya mind and I wan'ed to give ya the chance to say i'"

You were silent for a long moment before Hobie spoke again.

"Confess ya sins and I'll hold them wit' me foreva."

Something about those words made your throat constrict and your heart squeeze. You could get it all out right now and if it didn't change his mind about leaving, at least you would have held nothing from him. You would have placed your heart on your sleeve and showed him all your vulnerabilities. The sin would be his.

You rested your head against the cut out the two of you were talking to. "Sin? My sin, Hobie, is that you had me in ways I thought only my husband would. My sin was that I thought I meant something to you." Your voice trembled with the tears that began to swell in your eyes and roll like rivers down your cheeks, breaking off and spilling into smaller streams. "My sin was that I was stupid enough to think you wouldn't leave again. My sin was that I fell in love with you and you will never love me the same way."

You placed your hand against the cutout wall and stationed your lips close. "My sin is that I want to run away with you, leave this life and follow you wherever you go. I want you to take me, make me yours, right here, right now. That's my sin, Hobie. You ruined me."

The silence was so loud, filled with the parishes voice describing the sanctity of marriage and how nowadays, the youngins just have sex all over the place without knowing that importance of marriage first.

The cabinet creaked softly as Hobie got up from the bench inside. He pushed open the door, stepped out, and opened the door to your side. He took you up, pulling the door closed behind him, and pulled you in. You didn't look at him, refused to, lip trembling.

"I ruined ya now, did I?" Hobie grasped your chin and forced you to look at him. He was glad to see the swelling of your cheek had gone down. He should have killed your father over hitting you. He would have if you hadn't stopped him. The things he would do for you. "Righ' here and righ' now? I could do tha'"

Hobie had you against the wall in no time, your hands grasping at each other while his teeth bit and licked at your neck in sloppy kisses against your throat. You tilted your head back to allow him more space, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer and hold his body to yours. You missed his touch, the way he smelled, the way his hands grasped at your body, your breasts, your waist, caressing every curve of your body down to your hips. His rough and calloused as he pulled your dress up to pool under your tits, leaving your white, lace panties and thigh-high socks exposed. They were cheeky and childish but Hobie found it cute.

Hobie’s lips found yours and you opened on command for him. He’s got you trained good, his sweet, little flower. You still moaned every time he stroked his tongue against yours, still shivered when his thumbs stroked your cheeks. Heat pooled between your legs, slick wetness coating your lips and soaking your lacy, little panties. Would kissing him always feel like this? Like your heart was exploding in your chest, like you might just cum right here.

He shoved his hand into your panties and dipped his fingers between your swollen, soaked lips. He's barely done anything beyond kiss you and you're already dripping, your body leaning into his. Your body rolled when he found your clit, teasing it with the pads of his fingers in gentle circular motions.

You moan softly against his full lips. His tongue piercing brushes against your tongue before forcing yours down and latching his lips to yours.

"You don' wanna be caught, do ya, doll? You wan’ someone t’come and catch me ruining you, spoiling you?" His words are disgusting, filthy, and such a big turn on. You shivered at his words, with every stroke against your clit, at the way he chuckled at your cuteness.

He continued to play with you, trying to get you wet enough so this all would hurt less. Hobie reveled in your pretty, muffled noises, coaxing more from you by the second. He wished he could take his time with this, go nice and slow while he spoils you, but someone would suspect something and put two and two together if you take too long.

Hobie pulled his fingers from your panties and you whimpered softly, watching him kitten-lick your juices from his digit with teh softest moan.

He leaned in and suckled on your bottom lip softly, whispering into you, “jus’ saty quiet f’me, luv. Can ya do tha’?” You nodded frantically, so hard you made yourself dizzy. His fingers began to pull at his belt, undoing the buckle. He took his time pulling himself out of his restraints and when he popped out, his fat cock slapping against your bare stomach, you gasped. He was just so big, smearing pre-cum against your naval, marking where his cock would rest if he pushed himself all the way into your tiny pussy.

He’d take you right here, deflower you in this sacred place of worship and they’d never know. He’d have your legs quivering, your eyes rolling back, seeing white, and you’d never make a peep because he asked it of you. No one would know that he defiled your sacred body, made it his.

As much as Hobie affected you, you affected him. He was so hard at the mere thought of fucking you that it hurted. Pre-cum beaded at his tip before dripping down his slit. He pumped himself in his hand, thumbing at his head while he kissed you. “Tha’s righ’, keep quiet or we’ll be in trouble, luv.”

Hobie dipped down and grasped the backs of your thighs to lift you up and make you wrap your legs around his slender waist. Your clothed core pressed against the length of his cock and you ground your hips down to get some friction against your aching cunt.

Hobie pulled your panties to the side, let you take what you needed as you humped him. He sat down on the bench, let you straddle his hips, dragging your soaked cunt along the girth of his cock. Every time his thick head caught on your clit you'd shudder yet keep your lips sealed like a good girl. No one would know what was going on if only you kept your lips tight.

Hobie let you take control of yourself, your pleasure, in a place where you've never before had control over anything. He watched you almost lovingly, leaning back with his hands on your hips, trying your best to prepare yourself for a moment you've been waiting for your entire life.

"I need you to do it for me." You whispered timidly, looking at him with those big eyes of yours. "I'm scared." It felt stupid to admit. Something you wanted so badly, something you practically pleaded for, now felt like the most terrifying thing in the world.

Hobie kissed the edges of your mouth. "'ve got'cha. Don't be afraid. We'll go slow." His voice gave you all the assurance you needed as you nodded and closed your eyes, placing yourself entirely in his hands.

Hobie positioned himself against the tight, wet hole of your entrance. The only time you've been stretched out was with his fingers and even then, you had been tight due to anxiety. His fingers didn't even compare.

He took your hips in his hold and brought you down slowly, the head of his cock splitting you apart and a nerve-wracking pace. A sharp pain took you and you cried softly, your fingers digging into Hobie's shoulders as he attempted to get you to calm down. He didn't go any further, just the tip, that was the hardest part. "Jus' breath, luv. You got i'."

You took in a shaky breath, slowly pushing your hips down to take him inch by inch. He stretched you in a way that his fingers failed to prepare you for, intruded in your body in a way that was so intimate that you thought you might cry but maybe that was the stinging pain of him making space for himself inside your body.

He seemed to go on forever but the moment you reached the hilt, you paused, sitting in his lap, rocking your hips gently in an attempt to adjust to his size. You whimpered with each moment, burying your face in the crook of his neck, taking in his scent that makes you deliriously high. “Hobie, I can’t.” You murmured, shaking your head. “I can’t, it hurts.”

“Yes ya can, luv. I got’chu. It’ll feel good in a moment.” Hobie kept your hips rocking back and forth and whispered into the side of your neck. His fingers slipped beneath the band of your underwear, his long, rough fingers grabbing at your flesh. 

With time, your face against his throat, eyes closed, you began to relax. Your once tight muscles loosened slowly and what was once pain shifted into gentle pleasure. Your lips sought out his and you kissed him gently, moaning against his tongue while the ball of his piercing pressed against the soft muscle of your tongue. 

Hobie prompted you to rise and slowly, you did, every vein dragging against your silken walls. You rose until just his tip remained inside you before falling back down upon his cock. He was so big, so thigh, touching places inside you you never knew even existed. His cock dragged against a soft spot inside you and immediately, your thighs began to tremble uncontrollably. Your body rolled with the familiar jolts of an orgasm overtaking your body. You fell away from the kiss, slapping your hand over your mouth as you arched your back and let out a soft cry.

There was a wet sound, a small squirt of something clear coming from between your legs and wetting Hobie’s pants and abdomen. You hadn’t even noticed it until the waves of your climax washed over you and he had barely thrusted into you once. You looked at him, smiling something evil at you. “I ain’ know you was a squirter, doll.”

“I’m sorry, I– I have no idea what that was.”

“Don’ apologize. ‘M just wonderin’ if I can make ya do i’ again.” Hobie hadn’t expected you to cum so fast, much less to squirt all from one thrust. Your pussy gushed with your cum, slicking him up and making the whole debacle a whole lot easier. He rubbed circles on your still trembling thighs until they stopped shaking with the aftermath of your orgasm before he took hold of your hips again and began guiding you movements up and down his length.

You felt like absolute Heaven around him, all wet and silky, tight yet not too tight. He made you ride him nice and slow, sliding his hands up and down the length of your gorgeous, shivering body and whispering quiet praises to you while mass seemed to become all the louder. Songs of worship were being sang and Hobie couldn’t help but to find a steady beat with them.

You had never felt so high before, like you were ascending to whole nothing plane of existence, like you were touching Heaven itself before you were cast down to Hell. The choir sang and you sang Hobie’s name with them, your thighs burning with strenuous use but you didn’t care. You didn’t care that you had solidified your place in Hell, that your parents were altogether ready to disown you, that your rosary sat discarded on the floor of the confession booth. You just cared that Hobie’s cock was bullying its way inside you, that you felt good about yourself for the first time in so, so long. He made you feel so good.

“I love you.” You said to him, fucked out and in a daze, bouncing on his dick and hungry for a second orgasm sitting pretty on the horizon. “I love you more than God, more than anything.” You feel like you can't think straight. You can't even formulate cohesive thoughts for Christ's sake beyond your adoration for him. It was like he was knocking something loose in your brain ramming into you. “I love you, I love you, IloveyouIlove you.”

“I love ya too, luv. Fuck- God, I only came back to this– shit, keep goin’, doll…only came back f’you.” Hobie’s head fell back against the back of the booth and his eyes rolled back in his head. “God, ya feel s’good, s’good. Don’ stop.” Like you ever wanted to. It was like you were both losing hold of yourselves, growing increasingly louder, but the music did a wonderful job at covering it up.

He slides his hand over your mouth as you cry out. "What would your parents think if they saw you like this, getting soiled like this. You think they would notice if I came in your pussy and let it run down your thighs during service."

You whimper a muffled moan against his hand. You don't even care that he's telling you that he's gonna cum inside you. You were too focused on your orgasm approaching like a freight train. It was hot and steamy in this tiny compartment. Your hot breath quickly fills the room that quickly turned into a stuffy sauna as you two sweat.

Hobie could feel his coming too, the quickest he'd ever had cum since his first time. He lets his fingers dip into your mouth and press on your hot tongue. You instinctively begin sucking and Hobie praises you by calling you a "good girl. Always a good girl".

Your orgasm came without warning. It took hold of your like a possession, your muscles tightening with the weight of it. Your hand reached between your legs and eagerly stroked your clit and before you knew it, you were squirting again, just for him. Your pussy pulsated, your eyes rolled, your body relaxed and rolled against his, coaxing his orgasm out of him.

Hobie quickly slipped out of you before you could take his cock into you again. He wrapped a large, wet hand around his cock and stroked himself hard and fast against your wet abdomen. It didn’t take long for him to cum, coating your stomach in thick ribbons of it while he let out deep, panting huffs against your shoulder.

“You think they noticed we’ve been gone?”

“Definitely.”

Mass went on as usual when the two of you finally returned to your seats but you could both tell that your parents had caught on a long time ago and there was no way some kind of reprimanding wasn’t underway.

That night, you left home. Your father had struck you again and told you that you had two options, enter a convert and become a nun or leave the house because he “would not stand for this debauchery”.

You chose to leave. 

You called Hobie on the house phone just before he left his hotel and asked him to come pick you up. By the time he got there, you were sitting on the curb with two bags and in tears. He got off of his bike, grabbed your bags for you, and offered out a hand for you to take. “You ready?” 

You looked up at him, wiped the tears from your cheeks with the backs of your hands, and slipped your hand into his so he could help you up

”As ever.”

taglist: @eldrichhorrornyaa , @coffeeandtealol , @ravieaesthetic , @th3h0nkz , @qxiva , @m00nc4kes , @angel-of-the-eon

[odilelajolie]

Hunted, Ch. 2: Dream A Little Dream of Me (18+)

Alice misses Cooper. Cooper misses his little girl even more.

Perhaps she should have found it disturbing, just how quickly the mysterious man from Tuesday night seemed to consume her thoughts at every level of consciousness, from the hyperactive peaks of wakefulness all the way down to the quietest depths of slumber. 

Call me Cooper.

He’d spent barely an hour at the diner, and yet he was all Alice could think about when she returned home to her tiny apartment well after midnight—giggling. And twirling. When she finally settled down enough to sleep after a long shower, she’d dreamt about him in a series of innocent, nonlinear fancies, all involving shamelessly basking in Cooper’s undivided attention. To be looked at by Cooper, to be talked to by Cooper—to have Cooper smile at her—was the kind of benevolent, life-affirming regard so bright and balmy it was like he was the sun beaming down on her bare skin. He was a knight in truly shining armor, rescuing her from the cold darkness of the lonely shadows she called home.   

Alice couldn’t wait until she saw him again. 

Excellent recommendation, sweetheart—

She replayed their short dialogue on a near endless loop as she ran errands the following day, blushing each time she returned to the moment he called her sweetheart. His deep, stimulating voice reverberated in her ears so powerfully she actually shivered in pleasure, right in the middle of the check-out line at the grocery store. 

Alice was in such a good mood daydreaming about Cooper that she barely even noticed the hushed whispers of what the hell is wrong with her now? and looks like crazy girl is about to have another nervous fucking breakdown.

There were so many things she wished she’d asked him, and Alice promised herself that the next time he came into the diner, she would be brave and get to know him a bit better. Maybe she’d even personally treat him to his next meal as a thank-you. He’d left her a thirty-dollar tip on his twenty-dollar tab, and while Alice appreciated his generosity, she wanted to prove to him that his attention was infinitely more meaningful to her than his money. 

But Wednesday came and went, followed by Thursday, with absolutely no sign of the captivating newcomer. He was nowhere to be seen around town, nor did he make any appearances at the diner. Alice waited on her tables like she always did—docile and silent, while pretending she was invisible—and as she gazed longingly at the door during those slow hours of emptiness before closing, she began to question if she ever would see him again.

By Friday night, Alice was anxious.

By Saturday night, Alice was crushed. 

As she dejectedly restocked the beverage station next to the bar just after eleven, all hope of seeing Cooper walking through the door officially lost, Alice was forced to accept the strong possibility that she’d let her overactive imagination get carried away.

She was crazy, after all. And the whole town knew it.

Cooper was just a friendly tourist passing through, likely a hiker on his way to the nearby national forest given his obvious athleticism, and Alice had unhealthily clung to the idea of him out of sheer desperation for someone—anyone—to acknowledge her existence as more than just the town lunatic. A man as handsome and kind as Cooper probably even had a family waiting for him in one of the big cities, like Boston or New York or Philadelphia. He probably had a beautiful, perfect wife and beautiful, perfect children, and a myriad of beautiful, perfect friends.

One thing was certain—their short interaction had meant far more to Alice than it had meant to Cooper. 

He’d likely already forgotten all about her the second he walked out the door on Tuesday—

“Why do you look like you’re about to cry, sweetheart?”

Startled by the intrusion, Alice jumped several feet back with a high shriek, but her heart rate instantly began to settle when her eyes finally landed on the very object of her inapt hopefulness. 

“Hey…easy there, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Cooper intoned tenderly, slowly raising his huge hands as if attempting to calm an untamed, fearful mare. Gesturing to his broad torso, he added, “I was just here the other night. Cooper. Don’t you remember me? I ordered the deluxe cheeseburger you recommended…”

For several seconds, Alice was paralyzed from her vocal box all the way to her feet, the gears in her mind stuck somewhere between humiliation and delight. But soon, her joy and relief at seeing Cooper again obliterated her sense of embarrassment—even her sense of shame—and it wasn’t long before she was grinning and nodding like a bobblehead.

“Of c-course I remember you!” Alice squeaked, dizzy with happiness. She was so excited she couldn’t remain still, her entire body vibrating as she reflexively shifted her weight onto her toes, down, and up again, almost as if she were back in a pair of pointe shoes. “H-Hi! You’re…you’re back!”

“Well I couldn’t stay away from my new favorite restaurant.” Cooper took a few languid steps closer and leaned against the bar counter. “Or my new favorite waitress.”

He winked at her, and Alice giggled, blushing so intensely she grew even more lightheaded from the sudden rush of blood circulating through her cheeks.  

“I bet you say that to everyone who serves you,” Alice remarked sheepishly. Cooper shook his head, his dark gaze unblinking. “Just you, sweet girl.”

Alice’s heart fluttered.

She liked hearing him call her sweet girl even more than when he called her sweetheart.

“Am I too late to grab a bite?” Cooper prompted when Alice once more forgot her words, not to mention her job—too dazzled by the sight of him. “I tried to get here sooner, but work kind of got away from me.”

Alice moistened her lips and wiped her palms on her apron. “Absolutely—you can have any table you’d like!”

“Can I sit right here?” Cooper asked, already deftly easing his large body onto the nearest bar chair. “I know you can’t go behind the bar, but clearly you’re allowed to be next to it.”

Alice darted to the host stand for a menu and presented it to Cooper, and reached into her pocket for her notepad and pen. “Here is perfect. Do you know what you’d like to dri—”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You were just on the verge of tears,” Cooper clarified. “I called out to you when I walked in, but I don’t think you heard me. Is everything okay?”

Something…flickered in his impossibly dark eyes, like a shooting star reflecting upon still nighttime water.

Or perhaps a strike of lightning. 

“I…umm…”

“You can tell me, Alice,” he murmured lowly. “You can tell me anything.”

Alice nervously shifted from side to side, but was spurred into action by his gentle words. His warmth. 

“Umm…you’re going to think it’s stupid. Or crazy, probably—”

“Tell me.”

Before she could cower and hide in a last ditch attempt to preserve what little remained of her dignity, Cooper softly placed his hand on her chin, keeping her gaze focused on him in a gentle snare.

There was nowhere for her to escape. 

“Tell me why you were about to cry.”

His voice, rich and dark and velvety smooth, seemed to settle over her body like a hypnotic, drugging her into suggestion with ease. Cooper was simply irresistible, and Alice found herself confessing the humiliating truth before she could even think to stop herself. 

“I really missed you,” she whispered meekly. “People…people around here don’t like me very much—they think I’m…they think I’m…umm…weird—and you…you were so nice, and you talked to me…nobody talks to me, and…I was really hoping to see you again, but then you didn’t come back, and I wasn’t sure…oh God, what have I done…”

Alice took several slow steps backward, horrified with herself. 

She sounded just as crazy as everyone said she was. More than crazy.

She sounded obsessed. 

Cooper stared at her in silence, an inscrutable expression on his face. Alice rocked onto her heels, clutching her notepad for dear life as she anxiously waited for him to storm off and leave. 

Or, perhaps even call the police. 

Instead, he extended his long arm on a slow exhale and plucked her notepad and pen right out of her sweaty palm, and Alice’s jaw fell open as he rapidly wrote something onto the pad, and returned it to her.

“What…what is this?” Alice asked, dumbly. 

“That’s my cell phone number,” Cooper answered with a smile before Alice could even process the meaning of the ten orderly digits in front of her. “So if you miss me, if you want to see me, or even if you just want to talk—all you have to do is tell me…and I’ll be right there for you, sweet girl.”

It was far easier tonight to persuade his sweet little Alice to abandon her side work entirely, and focus entirely on him. By keeping his distance this week after giving her a small taste of the attention she so desperately craved—thereby provoking the tender girl’s pronounced fear of abandonment—he’d succeeded in breaking down what minimal defenses she had left for protecting herself.

Her loneliness made her anxious, her anxiousness made her needy, and her neediness made her pliable—complete putty in his hands. 

He wasn’t looking forward to repeating the behavior—he truly didn’t want his little girl to ever question just how much she meant to him—but it was a necessary manipulation, at least for now, to secure her devotion long-term. 

Cooper needed to make an addict out of Alice, to make his pretty little girl depend on her Daddy just as much as he already depended on her—his sweet little narcotic. To guarantee Alice’s lasting attachment, he had to expose the innocent girl to what she wanted most, and then take it away, before giving it back to her in constant, progressively stronger doses until she was so blissed out on his love and adoration she’d never even think about looking elsewhere for her needs. 

With her natural sweetness and excitability, Alice’s little side was undeniable, though the exact developmental stage she regressed to was a bit more difficult to determine. Regardless, Alice was a very…young eighteen, her highest education a GED, her worldliness limited to the  boundaries of this forgotten New England town inhabited by only a few thousand people.

Soon, he would be her entire world—

“I had to make this myself—Ted is already closing down the kitchen, but I’ve made this before, I promise—all of the ingredients and portions are written down,” Alice said in a timid rush as she shakily placed his dinner order on the bar counter. “I really hope you like it.”

Alice’s laughable attempt at preparing a harvest salad was almost as unappetizing as the cheeseburger he’d ordered on Tuesday—and Cooper already had the low-bar bias of not only being a former fireman, but also a fugitive, more than accustomed to eating cheap garbage when pressed for time and circumstance. But his little girl had clearly tried so hard to make his dinner tonight, putting her best effort in a role that was unfamiliar to her, and Cooper would not crush her spirit with criticism. 

He’d denied her—and himself, really—affection all week, which meant tonight was not a night for withholding. 

Cooper would give his little girl all of the praise she craved, until they were both satisfied. 

“Oh, this looks delicious, Alice,” Cooper complimented with enthusiasm. “And is that…wow! You added tri-tip, too? What a treat.”

The meat was much closer to well-done than Cooper would have preferred, but it looked edible enough. 

“It normally comes with grilled chicken breast, but I thought you might enjoy the beef upgrade,” Alice replied brightly. “Since you’re…umm…you’re so…umm…so…”

Alice’s shyness, combined with her complete lack of a filter, was one of the most adorable things about her. When she felt comfortable enough to actually use her cute honeyed voice, his little girl said exactly what was on her mind. 

“Since I’m what?” Cooper asked innocently. He could easily deduce just where her thoughts were headed, but he wanted to hear her say it. 

Alice chewed her lower lip, her long eyelashes fluttering. “Since you’re…so…muscular. Big muscles like yours need lots of protein, right?”

It was the first outright commentary she’d made about his appearance, though he’d certainly followed the direction of her girlish gaze on his body when she thought she was being discreet. Alice may have been profoundly inexperienced, but she still had the hormones of an eighteen-year-old girl, which meant her nubile body was craving sex—whether she realized it or not. 

Alice’s eyes widened and appeared slightly glassy as her gaze briefly slipped below his neck—was she looking at his pecs?—pupils dilating like a wobbly kitten on her first hunt. 

Good girl. 

Always keep those pretty eyes on Daddy—

“Well not just the protein—I need the veggies too,” Cooper said on a chuckle, startling the adorably distracted little girl. “It takes a lot more effort to stay fit at my age. My metabolism isn’t quite what it used to be.”

Cooper had been well aware of his physical appeal ever since he hit puberty, and had diligently maintained it ever since due to the fallacy of human nature to associate attractiveness with trustworthiness. Or even more laughably, safety. He may have been a monster, but that wasn’t what people saw when they looked at him. Instead, they saw height. A strong build. A symmetrical face.

And while Cooper was personally ambivalent about his looks, he fully intended to use any and every physical advantage in his arsenal in order to seduce Alice. She was already highly affected by him, her body language and nonverbal cues revealing far more than her words.

He was willing to bet that he could drop his voice, call her a good girl, and tell her to take off her panties and hop up on the counter so that he could bury his tongue in her sweet little cunt for dessert, and his timid little Alice would immediately obey. 

Whether she truly wanted to or not.

“Umm…I was wondering…how old are you?” Alice asked as he speared a large serving of  mixed greens, sweet potato, apple, and beef onto his fork. He took the bite and was relieved to find the salad tasted much better than it looked, but what he truly savored was the way Alice squirmed as she visibly second-guessed her question, wondering if she’d offended him.

Cooper swallowed and smiled. 

He’d give her the truth for this one.“Forty-six.”

Alice didn’t react in any significant way—no surprise or revulsion—confirming that whatever guess she may have been harboring must have been fairly close to his actual age. 

She already knew he had decades over her. Knew he was old enough to be her father.

And she was unbothered. 

“And do you…umm—if it’s okay to ask—do you…are you married? Do you have a family?”

Cooper had been anticipating this question, and had long rehearsed his response. 

With muted affectation, he lowered his head and paused all movements, his fork hovering above the salad in static suspension as he assumed a faraway look. 

He needed to appear somber.

He could see Alice fidgeting in his peripherals, her panic over his sudden despondency growing more overt by the moment, so he held the pose a few seconds longer before putting her out of her misery. 

“I’m a widower,” Cooper answered quietly. “And…I’m no longer a father.” Alice gasped, her delicate face softening with sympathy. “My family…they were in a car accident several years ago.”

“Oh, Cooper, I—I’m so sorry.” Alice placed her tiny hand on his shoulder, and Cooper had to tighten his jaw to keep himself from grabbing her and pulling her into his lap—right where she belonged. “I know there’s nothing I can say to make you feel better, but please know…I’m…I’m so sorry…”

Cooper turned towards her while slowly covering her hand on his shoulder with his grasp, marveling at the smoothness of her skin. The way her small fingers completely disappeared beneath his palm.

How easy it would be to gather both of her hands in just one of his, bruising her fragile little wrists as he pinned her down and fucked her hard from behind—

“…and I know we don’t know each other very well, but…is there…is there anything you need?” Alice asked, her delicate voice practically bleeding compassion. “Anything I can do to for you?”

You can spread your legs and let Daddy inside your pussy, baby girl—

Cooper cleared his throat and took a sip of iced tea to cool off. “That’s very kind of you to offer, but you’re already doing plenty—just by being yourself. I’m new here, and I don’t really know anyone…honestly, you’ve been the highlight of my entire week.”

Alice gazed up at him with hopeful eyes.“R-really?”

Such a needy baby girl—

“Really,” Cooper affirmed. “Thank you, Alice. For your sympathy. And for your company. It means a lot to a lonely old man like me.”

He gave her hand a final longing squeeze before continuing to eat his dinner, and the two fell into a companionable silence, sharing secret smiles every time they made eye contact. 

“So…you said you’re new here,” the girl mentioned tentatively as she refilled his glass once he’d emptied his plate. “Does that mean…you’re here to…to stay?”

Cooper carefully wiped the corners of his mouth with a paper napkin before responding. He was pleased that she was continuing to ask personal questions. Not only did it mean she was curious, but it also meant she was getting comfortable around him. 

Familiar. 

“I am,” Cooper confirmed. “After…everything…I thought it was about time for a change of scenery. Some peace and quiet. I recently closed on a nice forest property about thirty minutes north of here.”

“That sounds wonderful—congratulations on your new home!” Alice chirped. “Are you already all moved in?”

“I still have a few dozen boxes to unpack, but yeah,” Cooper replied. “I get to those in-between work calls as best as I can.”

“What do you do for work?” Alice asked. 

This was the part of the narrative Cooper had needed to embellish the most. Alice was painfully gullible—but she wasn’t stupid. Anyone would be suspicious of the luxury SUV he was driving and six-bedroom home he was currently living in if he said he was a former firefighter. 

“I was an emergency physician in Boston,” Cooper answered. 

It was a logical fake job—he possessed a well-above average understanding of the human body. 

Particularly the human body under trauma.

Cooper continued, “But now, I work part-time from home with a small network of private hospitals and concierge practices providing telehealth services for patients with non-emergency medical needs.”

Alice’s eyes widened, but not with the wonderment he was anticipating. He’d expected her to be impressed by his story, but strangely, Alice seemed more and more nervous by the moment. 

“Wow—so you must be…you must be super smart,” she eventually said in a small voice.

It dawned on him that his fake credentials likely made Alice feel insecure about her own limited education, so Cooper shook his head and released a self-deprecating laugh to put her at ease. “When it comes to medicine, sure. But that’s about it. I’m a simple man, really. I couldn’t help you if you were to ask me about something like…oh, I don’t know…” Cooper paused for a few moments and brought his hand to his chin, feigning consideration. “Literature. Art. Classical music.”

Alice immediately perked up—just as he knew she would—that irresistible, girlishly cheerful gleam restored in her eyes. “Oh, I could tell you all about those! Especially classical music!” 

Of course, Cooper had already learned within days of seeing her for the first time that these were Alice’s areas of interest and strength. 

She was an avid reader, visiting the local library every Wednesday at ten a.m. to check out books before she did her grocery shopping, defaulting most often to 19th and early 20th-century British literature. Currently, she was reading Northanger Abbey, though her favorite book of all time was The Hobbit. She typically finished a chapter each day a few hours before her evening shift at the diner, when she’d arrange a little tea party for herself in her apartment.  

She was also an amateur artist, and brought a sketchbook and colored pencils to the lakefront park every Sunday at noon to draw wildlife. For the last several weeks, she’d been working on a drawing of a family of white-tailed deer. It was clear she had no formal art instruction, but Cooper found her whimsical doodles to be endearing. 

He couldn’t wait to cover the walls of his new home—their home—with pictures she made especially for Daddy.

But the area where his little girl held true mastery was with classical music, and the elite form of athletic art that came with it.

Alice was a ballerina. 

“Well I look forward to learning all that I can from you,” Cooper replied sincerely. “Do you play an instrument?”

Alice shook her head, cheeks reddening. “Well, no…but I studied ballet pretty seriously from when I was three up until a couple of years ago. Learning about classical music kind of comes with it.”

“Now that is what I call impressive,” Cooper praised. “What’s your favorite ballet?”

Alice was on the verge of bouncing up and down, the girl was so clearly excited to talk about her favorite thing. “Well it’s definitely a three-way tie between—”

“I’m going home,” a new voice suddenly announced, and Cooper’s spine stiffened, all of his senses electrified to high alert. 

Always in the habit of constantly surveying his surroundings, it was a very rare occurrence when Cooper was unable to detect the arrival of a new person. And when it did happen, it…unnerved him.

The fry cook who had snuck up on them like a ghost was probably fifteen or twenty years older than Cooper was, tall with a gangly build, though there was a haggard weariness lining his gray face that made him appear much older. The man stepped fully into the fluorescents, and Cooper noticed that about a third of his face was violently scarred from a poorly-healed chemical burn. He also had a collection of dog tags around his neck. 

This man was ex-military.

“It’s okay, Ted, I can lock up,” Alice said timidly to the new arrival, but the cook shook his head. “I have it handled—”

“I lock up,” the man called Ted interrupted gruffly. “Take his plates to the dishwasher. Tell him the diner is closed.”

Alice offered Cooper an apologetic smile before completing her duties as she’d been instructed, briefly disappearing in the kitchens with Ted, who Cooper found himself hating more and more by the moment.

The ways he could dismember and mutilate the intrusive fuck who dared to interrupt his time with his little girl—

“Sorry about that,” Alice said breathlessly when she finally emerged. She’d let her lovely hair down—pretty, pretty girl—and was tying an oversized coat around her tiny waist. “Do you think you might want to come back soon—”

“Don’t I have a bill to pay?”

Alice shook her head with a self-satisfied smile as she reached for a spray bottle and towel, giving a final wipe-down to the countertop where Cooper had been dining. “Tonight’s on me. Your tip last time was way too generous.”

Cooper gritted his teeth and balled his fists in an effort to suppress the spark of rage her little stunt instigated. He reminded himself that Alice wasn’t insulting him on purpose—he highly doubted she possessed a single brat bone within her small body. She didn’t know she’d broken one of his rules, because she didn’t know his rules yet.

As much as he wanted to bend her over his knee, tear off her panties, and beat her ass so hard she wouldn’t be able to sit for weeks without crying in pain, he couldn’t punish her for not yet knowing that Daddy always paid for all expenses. But soon, Alice would learn that it was Daddy’s job to take care of her, and a sweet little girl like her never needed to worry about big things like money, no matter the amount.

“Thank you, Alice,” Cooper forced himself to say. 

He shrugged into his jacket and followed her out of the restaurant, standing patiently with his hands in his pockets as Alice demurely fidgeted beneath his gaze.

“I…umm…I guess I’d better head home,” Alice announced with apparent reluctance. “My apartment’s just a quick walk that way.”

“Would you like a ride?” Cooper offered. Her apartment really wasn’t far, but Cooper was highly uncomfortable with her walking alone at night. 

It was why he’d been following her on nearly all of her walks since he’d first laid eyes on her, to make sure she always stayed safe.

“I’ll be okay—thank you, Cooper,” Alice twinkled sweetly. “And…I really, really hope to see you again soon.”

They said their goodbyes, and Cooper waited an appropriate amount of time before climbing into his car and picking up Alice’s trail. He followed her unseen as she walked down Main Street, and then turned onto Briar Lane to the dilapidated walk-up at the end of the otherwise deserted road. Killing the headlights, Cooper carefully maneuvered the car off-road, parking behind the dense collection of trees with a direct view of Alice’s third-floor bedroom window.

His heart rate jumpstarted when, right on schedule, her bedroom lights came on exactly four minutes later, and Alice finally stepped into the frame. 

Cooper was pleased to see that Alice was back to dreamily twirling around on her toes and smiling. Seeing her Daddy again had clearly put his little girl back in her happy mood. 

And Cooper wanted nothing more than to preserve her happiness and innocence, to keep her safely locked up in that bubble of bliss and pleasure forever.

Nothing and no one would ever harm her ever again—so long as she remained under Daddy’s protection.

He watched with interest as Alice reached into her antique dresser to select her pajamas for the night. During the spring and summer months when the weather was warmer, Alice had most often slept in nothing more than a tank top with a cheeky pair of panties. Cooper had certainly enjoyed the sight of her tight body in such skimpy items, but now that winter was fast approaching and the temperatures were plummeting by the hour, he found he also appreciated Alice’s preference for oversized fleece sets with whimsical patterns. Tonight, she picked a baby blue set patterned with ice cream cones and cupcakes. 

She couldn’t be more adorable.

Alice disappeared into her bathroom for her nighttime shower, so Cooper took this interruption in his surveillance of his little girl to check in on his surveillance at home. He pulled out his phone and opened the app for the security system, swiping through various camera feeds until he landed on the basement of the guest house. 

His captive had barely moved an inch from the position he’d been in when Cooper had last checked the feed, slumped against a far corner of the largely barren room. Granted, the shackles around his ankles and duct-tape binding his wrists prohibited extensive movement—and yes, he was blindfolded—but the man could still easily sniff and fumble his way to the water dish and food bowl Cooper had left for him on the floor the night before. 

But apparently, the man had decided to conduct yet another hunger strike, for the food remained untouched. 

Cooper pressed the microphone button. “We’ve been over this, buddy. Either you eat on your own, or I’ll force you to eat. What’s it gonna be?”

It had been several weeks since Cooper had shoved a feeding tube down the man’s throat, and while he wasn’t particularly squeamish about the act itself, the subsequent clean-up was a rather inconvenient hassle. 

The man slowly raised his head, orienting himself in the general direction of the camera and speaker. “Fuck you, you goddamn psychopath.”

Cooper softly chuckled and closed out of the app, and was pleasantly surprised to find a new text message waiting for him.

Cooper glanced up at Alice’s window, and was instantly taken aback by how breathtaking his little girl was. Her years of ballet training were far more obvious now as she sat wrapped in a towel at the edge of her bed with her toned legs crossed, her posture perfect and elegant from her slender neck all the way down to her lower back.

She was…jumpy as she waited on his reply, chewing her lower lip in anticipation as she crossed and uncrossed her legs, looking between her phone and the direction of her bathroom and back again. He could tell she was debating whether or not to go ahead and take her shower, but his sweet girl was simply too excited to see if he would reply. 

Cooper waited for a few more minutes—just let Daddy look at you, sweetheart—but when it became obvious her anxiety was beginning to climb, her brow furrowing with worry, Cooper quickly typed a response and hit send.

[emeraldoodles]

The Master Post from Serizawa Week 2024

I had lots of fun participating! Mine are little snapshots from the week, linking one day to the next.

If you would like more story read below.

Thanks @ygodmyy20 & @acermp100 for letting me bound ideas off you the whole week. Also, @yu-artist for sharing the Seriweek prompts!

Monday, March 25th - Friends

Serizawa made going back to school look so fun Minegishi decided to join. Sometimes Dimple/Yoshioka likes to stop by and say hello. Today he was a distraction to Serizawa, so he had trouble paying attention and listening to the homework assignment.

Tuesday, March 26th - School

Poor Serizawa, having to stay up late to finish an assignment. At least he's not alone. The cat's name is Gizmo! Thanks @acermp100 for the cat name suggestion. @secretagent9 I really love the idea of a Gundam name, but not being a fan I didn't know what to choose.

Wednesday, March 27th - Outfit

Reigen and Serizawa were hired to exorcise mischievous spirits that kept harassing the maids at a cafe. Serizawa was very tired from yesterday's school assignment and not on his A-game today.

Reigen volunteered to lure out the ghost by wearing a maid's outfit, but maybe he just wanted to wear it. Serizawa is wearing his cute butler outfit! The maids were very excited to dress him up, not so much Reigen

Reigen: Those brats! Wont even help me tie my apron. Grumble. *struggles to reach behind*

Serizawa: Here, let me. *zips up and hooks Reigen's dress and ties the apron*

Reigen: *many hand gestures* Competition, that's what is is Serizawa! I'm competition because of how good I look.

Serizawa: *chuckles* You do look good sir. Very pretty, very cute.

Reigen: R-really? *blush* I-I er, I mean of course! Now! Let's get to work!

Poor Reigen, he got ice water dumped on him several times that day. He wasn't feel great before the exorcism, but was wiped out by the end the assignment.

Thursday, March 28th - Food

Mrs. Serizawa is teaching Kastuya how to cook, so he can stop living off instant noodles. Today is a hearty beef & leak stew!

Mrs. Serizawa: Remember, the leaks need to be thoroughly washed.

Kastuya: Nods, Nods!

Mrs. Serizawa: Also, the more passion and enjoyment you put into your cooking will reflect in the final dish. So, relax and take it slow and your love will shine through.

Serizawa is learning how to make tonjiru soup. He wants to make it for someone "special" this week.

Friday, March 29th - Spring

Dimple: I don't get it. If you're worried about Reigen go check up on him.

Serizawa: I don't want to intrude on his privacy.

Dimple: Ugh, you two are impossible.

It was an unusual day. Reigen didn't show up for work and Serizawa just got a message from him saying "I n68 sick".

Saturday, March 30th - Comfort/Bravery

Serizawa: Reigen, please eat a little more.

Reigen: No, I feel so sick.

Serizawa: But you've not eaten since Thursday. Here, let me get you just some broth.

Reigen: Kastuya...

Serizawa: Y-Yes?

Reigen: I.... I... Bucket. I need the bucket.

Reigen proceeded to dry heave into the bucket while saliva and tears fell in. Serizawa rubbed his back while he continued to convulse for several minutes.

Sunday, March 31st - Birthday

Serizawa went over to check on Reigen, who surprised him by throwing a little birthday celebration. It was just the two of them, but Reigen originally had planned something bigger. Luckily, the present, a multiplayer game, arrived on time, so they could play together.

Reigen was still sick, and drugged up, and making bad decisions. But Serizawa didn't mind. A love confession from Reigen made this the best birthday.

[teapartyprincess4two]

heyyy idk if you've been on tiktok but currently in like the editing fandom everyone's been editing the triplets to the song 18 by Anarbor so I was just wondering if you could maybe write for Matt because I think it just fits so well but surprisingly I don't think I've ever seen anyone write for the triplets based on that song and I think you would slayyyy it. I know you've got a couple requests and others you're working on rn so no pressure, even if you don't end up doing this request I'd eat up anything you put out 💋💋

I’ll Play Your Game- M. Sturniolo

pairing: GoodGirl!reader x BadBoy!Matt

classification: angst, fluff

warnings: use of y/n, suggestive content but no smut, mention of parental issues, controlling parents, mentions smoking, rebellious reader, mention of religion & religious trauma, mention of church, reference to the Bible (brief), cliche high school stereotypes/ tropes, long

inspiration: request^^, 18 by Anarbor

summary: You’re the Pastor’s daughter, all eyes are always on you. So, why not put on a show?

—

Ever since you were a little girl everyone expected three things from you; be sweet, pray, and obey. There were 10 commandments, all of them listed plain and simple in the Bible, and you were expected to follow them all. Your dad was strict, he had high expectations of you from the day you were born and upheld them throughout your infancy and childhood. Your mom was a pushover, she’d let your father brain wash her long ago into believing that his way was the only ways.

Your dad kept your weekly itinerary filled to the brim with activities to ensure that you had zero time to misbehave. Everyday after school, without fail, there was at least one activity waiting for you. Monday’s were for Bible study, on Tuesday you had golf practice, the afternoon prayer circle was on Wednesday, piano practice on Thursday, on Friday’s you’d volunteer at a food bank, Saturday’s were for homework and chores, and Sunday was the Lord’s day. Sunday’s were always dedicated to church, if you even thought of doing anything else you’d never hear the end of it from your dad.

That’s why, at the ripe age of 18, you’ve decided enough is enough. You’ve made it your sole mission to rebel against your dad and his ideologies, you’d remove the ‘good girl’ label from your life once and for all. But, if you were being honest, you’d followed the rules for so long that you didn’t even know where to begin.

The only good thing your parents did was send you to a public school, deeming Christian school too expensive despite it aligning more with their views. You’ve made a few friends, most of them also conformists, but no one who’d help you properly rebel against your parents. So, if you wanted to do this right, you needed to find someone new with a bad reputation; Matthew Sturniolo.

Matt was the textbook definition of a bad boy, and if there was a guide he’d definitely check off all the boxes. He had the angsty, quiet demeanor with a touch of humor. His body adorned with a multitude of tattoos, each one representing something different from his life. His hair was long enough to be considered too long by conservative parents, framing his face just around his scruffy beard perfectly. The outfits he wore, matched his mysterious persona perfectly, allowing him to disappear into the shadows seamlessly.

If anyone was going to help you piss off your parents, it was definitely going to be Matt. But you had to start off slowly, this wasn’t a one and done type of plan, it was more intricate than that and you were playing the long game. If you wanted to get to Matt, you needed to get to get to one of his triplet brothers first.

You had two options; Chris or Nick.

Chris was your stereotypical jock. He was the captain of the school’s varsity hockey team, occupying most of his Friday nights with hockey games and following them with a Saturday night full of partying. His weekdays were obviously spent at school, but he did the bare minimum to keep his grades up, he focused most of his attention on flirting with girls. Chris was loud, outgoing, flirtatious, and way too popular for his own good. If you tried getting to Matt through him, he’d surely think you were flirting.

So, if you wanted this to work, you needed someone equally as popular, but not as cocky.

That left you with Nick. Nick was on a completely different side of the popularity spectrum than Chris; he was your stereotypical cheerleader. He, much like Chris, spent his Friday’s at hockey games except he was leading his team in cheers and chants instead. The rest of his time was spent organizing the important school events such as prom and homecoming, and when he wasn’t doing that he was boosting student morale through heartfelt speeches at school assemblies.

Nick was the perfect contender and since cheer tryout were opening up soon, it was the perfect excuse to get to know him. First, you’d earn your spot on the cheerleading team. Then, you’d slowly enter Nick’s inner circle, using it as leverage to finally get to Matt.

It was the perfect plan. What could go wrong?

—

One of your dad’s frequented sermons plays over the car stereo as he drives you to school, he’s adamant on silence in the car so you can fully absorb the message behind the sermon. It doesn’t bother you anymore, you usually just tune it out and scroll through your phone, especially on weekday mornings on the way to school.

Before you fell asleep last night you decided that today was the day, cheer tryouts were after school and you were going to saunter in there, perform your best routine, and complete the first step of your plan.

“Listen, Y/n. This is important,” your dad snaps his fingers in front of your face, breaking your gaze from your phone. He turns the sound up, the words of the sermon taking over the car, “Children, obey your parents. Do as you are told and you will be blessed.”

You rolls your eyes, it was always the same thing with you dad. “See, be obedient. God will only bless you if you’re obedient,” he says. The man on the stereo continues, “Parents, do not anger your chil-“ Before the man can finish his sentence, your dad turns the sound off. If he had to follow any rules that gave you any sort of power, he didn’t want to hear them. You side eye him, glad that he’s too focused on the road to notice.

Most kids hate school, they claim it’s a waste of time or that they hate doing all the work, but not you. You’ll gladly welcome the extra hours of homework, volunteer opportunities after school, and early tutoring sessions just for an excuse to get as far away from your controlling family as possible.

Your dad pulls up to the school parking lot, immediately commenting on something he found distasteful before bidding you goodbye. “Be the light, Y/n!” he exclaims as you hop off the car, shutting the car door without turning back to him. A wave of relief washes over you when he pulls out of the parking lot, you felt so tense the entire car ride. But now that you were finally at school, it was time to put your plan into full effect.

You were getting rid of the ‘good girl’ title no matter what.

—

When the last school bell rings you’re practically flying down the stairs to the gym. You wanted to get to the girl’s locker room as quick as possible so you could be the first in line for cheer tryouts. Nothing said ‘co-captain’ like punctuality. Or, actually, would it be better to make a fashionably late entrance? You shake the thought off, you’re just going to be on time. You’re sure Nick would appreciate it.

The tryout requires that you wear a pleated skirt along with a school shirt so that the judges know what you look like in school colors and that you know how to perform in a cheer uniform. As a classified church girl, you had a wide variety of skirts to choose from, but you made sure to pick your newest one just for the occasion. You changed quickly in the locker room, tying a bow into your hair before anyone else arrived.

When the second person entered the locker room, you were already walking out, mentally going through your routine in your head. If you wanted a spot in Nick’s inner circle, you needed to execute this routine perfectly. You choreographed it yourself after watching endless hours of cheer routine videos, making sure to incorporate as many dazzling moves as possible.

The gym is quiet, the only sound being Nick and two teachers setting up the judges table. They’re surprised to see you already dressed and ready to perform, no one had ever been this early before. They’re even more shocked that you’re here, everyone knows you’re the Pastor’s daughter and the cheer team was known for everything but modesty.

“Are you here for tryouts?” Nick asks, a big smile on his faces. He’s excited for the new year and to find a new co-captain amidst the crowd of talented dancers and performers.

“Yes, my name is y/n,” you reply, watching as he finds your name on one of his many clipboards. Suddenly, now that you’re standing in the gym, you don’t feel so confident anymore. The nerves are starting to settle and you’re becoming anxious at the thought of forgetting your routine, messing up and embarrassing yourself, or just not being good enough to make the team let alone become co-captain.

One of the teachers heaves a large stereo onto the desk, connecting it her phone and cueing up your song before asking, “Alright, Y/n. You ready?” Shaky, sweaty hands smooth down your pleated skirt, a long exhale following right after. It was now or never, if you wanted to get back at your dad for all the years of religious trauma it was going to start now.

“I’m ready.”

The teacher smiles at you, all the judges taking a seat behind the table as she presses play on the song. A funky pop beat plays over the stereo, and immediately your routine is in full swing. One of the male judges is humming along to the music, all their eyes trained on you as you dance along the gym floor. The song wasn’t necessarily inappropriate, but you managed to pull out as many sultry moves as possible.

Nick is instantly impressed by your routine, taking down a few notes on how graceful and elegant you move. The teachers, who are mostly there out of obligation, refer to their rubric before giving you a final score. If Nick could have it his way, he’d make you co-captain then and there, but there’s plenty of other girls still waiting to tryout.

You finish your routine in a split, slightly out of breath but trying to keep your composure. The music stops, but the noise is replaced with the judges clapping for your performance, “Great work! The team list will be posted end of day tomorrow. NEXT!”

Just like that you’re being rushed out of the gym for the next girl as Nick sends you an enthusiastic thumbs up. All you could do was hope you earned a spot on the team, and by the way Nick looked at you, you were almost 100% you’d be this years cheer co-captain.

You’re daydreaming about making the team, feeling confident that your plan is working and you’re not paying attention to where you’re waking. So, on the way back to the locker room you accidentally bump into someone, their hard chest causing you to stumble back slightly.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, looking up at who just bumped into.

“No problem,” a deep voice croaks in return, you’d recognize that voice anywhere. You look up to see none other than Matt, fully clad in his signature all black style. His hair falls in front of his face, hiding just enough of his eyes to give him an even more mysterious aura. He smells of cigarettes and cologne, a delicious scent that has you weak in the knees.

Without another word, just a sly smirk, Matt is walking past you and into the gym. He saunters up the bleachers, managing to find a perfectly secluded corner to hide in. Not long after, he’s joined by Chris who just finished hockey practice. Chris doesn’t bother hiding, instead he sits right next to Matt where the gym lights are still illuminating. They’re both waiting for Nick so they can head home, and although they’re tired from the school day, they’ll gladly stay a couple extra hours to watch all the pretty girls do their tryout routines.

Matt can feel you watching him, allowing the darkness to serve as a veil as he looks you up and down. He’s noticed you in the halls before, but never took you for a cheerleader. You can’t even see Matt anymore, but you have to force yourself to look away, quickly continuing your walk back to the locker room.

The next day after school you’re once again rushing down the stairs, trying to get to the bulletin before anyone else. You push past a few people, weaving your way through the crowded hallway. This is the defining moment, if you made the team you’d be one step closer to achieving your final goal: get Matthew Sturniolo.

You must’ve been lost in thought because you once again manage to bump into someone. You stumble back, some of your textbooks falling out of your arms and onto the floor in the process.

“You need to watch where you’re going, sweetheart,” Matt says, reaching his arms out to steady you before you can fall over. The nickname turned your legs to jelly.

How was it that you always managed to bump into him? It almost seemed like fate.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” you reply sincerely, kneeling down to pick up your books from the floor. He does the same, picking up one of your stray books, fingertips grazing your hand when he hands it to you. Your eyes can’t help but travel up his arm, mentally counting and admiring the different tattoos that litter his arms. He notices, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Y/n, right?” You hold your textbooks in a firm, anxious grip as you stand up. Matt is still kneeling, your knees aligned with his face. He lets his eyes trail up your legs and up to your face, a devilish grin on his face. The position felt so compromising, but you had to try an act casual.

“Yeah, you’re Matt. Right?” He hums in response, tracing your entire silhouette one last time before he finally stands up. His height causes him to tower over you, a whiff of his cologne once again hitting you, immediately putting you in a deep trance. Matt is handsome and he knows it, he notices how hypnotized you looked and it only serves as an ego boost.

“See you around, Y/n,” he smirks, sending you a quick wink as he walks outside. “See you around,” you reply meekly, mentally facepalming for letting the anxiety take you over.

You felt like a little mouse who finally gained the courage to scavenge for food only to be chased around by a ravenous cat. The only sounds coming from you being squeaks and chirps, too anxious to form coherent words. This was going to be harder than you thought.

When you finally reached the bulletin, your eyes scanned over the new team roster. Your name was all the way at the bottom in bold, capitalized letters, ‘Y/N: CO-CAPTAIN.’ At least you did that part right.

—

It’s been 2 months since your cheer audition and since then you’ve risen in popularity dramatically. As co-captain you were invited to join Nick at his table for lunch and worked closely alongside him to choreograph new routines. This led you two to become close, your friendship blossoming over the countless hours of cheer practice.

Your dad hated that you were a cheerleader, finding issues in everything about it. He deemed the uniform too provocative, the cheers too sexual, and claiming that you were spending too much time practicing and not enough time studying your Bible. The only reason he didn’t force you to quit was because your mom finally grew a backbone and stuck up for you, advocating that this was a good hobby for you. Cheerleading was the perfect scapegoat, even on the odd days when you didn’t have practice you were able to sneak out of all your other responsibilities. No more piano, golf practice, volunteering at the food bank, or Bible study for you.

Eventually, the hockey season ended so you and Nick modified the chants to fit the lacrosse field. Chris was known to play every sport possible, so you weren’t surprised to see ‘STURNIOLO’ written across one of the jerseys running on the field. But upon further examination, you realized you were seeing double. Matt, who usually watched from the sidelines, was running plays alongside his brother and absolutely dominating the field.

It was hard for you to focus on your routine, your eyes kept following his sweaty figure as it raced across the field. Nick, who notices your sudden offbeat performance, was sending you warning looks to get it together. But you couldn’t help it, Matt had an alluring aura to him that seemed to draw you in without fail each time.

The school band plays loudly over the course of the game, making it hard to hear anything other than the loud drums and trumpets. During a small break, Nick nudges you, mouthing a quick “what the fuck?” You give him an apologetic smile, adjusting your uniform slightly before mouthing back an “I’m sorry.” He gives you a look that says, ‘yeah, you better be’ before getting back in position, ready to cheer the rest of the night away. You do the same, forcing yourself not to look at Matt for the rest of the game.

Before you know it, the game is over and the stadium was filled with hooting and hollering as Matt scored the winning goal. The school and his entire tram cheered for him in unison. You and Nick guided the bleacher full of students in a big chant, cheering for the lacrosse team loudly for their victory, “Yeah, yeah, do we rock? Yeah, yeah, take it to the top! Yeah, yeah, we are never gonna stop! Get wins till the other team drops!” Pompoms are in the air, rhythmically swaying to the beat, your feet twisting and turning as you pop your hips.

These type of events were always full of school spirit, but when they ended and the team headed towards the lockers and the cheerleaders went in search of their boyfriends, the air quickly became chaotic. Especially with everyone else piling off the bleachers and into the parking lot, trying to get home before it got too dark. You stay back and chat with Nick for a while before he dismisses himself to find one of his brothers.

So, now you’re left to wander the field on your own, taking a seat on the grass under the bright stadium lights. You loved moments like this, moments when you got to be alone with your thoughts. All you could think about was Matt, and for a second you thought he might be here on the field with you, the smell of his cologne and cigarette smoke whipping past you with the breeze. You look around, thinking your mind was playing tricks on you.

But it’s not, you see the light at the end of his cigarette deep within the shadows, followed by cigarette smoke that forms a cloud once it dances into the light. For some reason you feel bold, or maybe it’s just the same alluring feeling from earlier that makes you stand up and walk over to him. You can’t see him, but the lit cigarette between his fingers serves as a place marker for his location, the embers crackling brightly in the dark.

Matt’s eyes train on your figure as it approaches, squinting slightly in confusion. He’s never taken you for a smoker, but then again he didn’t take you for a cheerleader and you were clearly the best dancer on the team.

The whole night he couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you, even earning a tongue lashing from his coach for missing a few passes. Towards the end he had to force himself to focus, scoring the winning point in hopes of impressing you.

It obviously worked because once your eyes adjust to the darkness you’re commenting on it, “Good job on the field today, that last play was awesome.” There’s a twinge of innocence in your voice that Matt wants to destroy. “Thanks, you weren’t too bad yourself,” he replies, taking a long inhale of his cigarette before blowing the smoke away from you. The wind only blows it back into your face anyways, causing you to cough slightly.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, ready to flick the cigarette on the floor and stomp it out. But you stop him, a gentle hand holding his arm, “no it’s okay, I’ll get used to it.” The comment is bold, but you needed to be bold if you wanted to get Matt.

Was this the same girl that everyone knew as the Pastor’s daughter? Where was all this sudden confidence coming from?

“Oh, will you?” he asks with a quirked eyebrow, dusting the ash off his cigarette before taking another hit. You hum in response, slowly moving closer to him, allowing him to blow the smoke close enough to your face for it to sting. You hold in a cough, offering Matt an innocent smile that he returns with a smirk.

If this was the game you were starting, he was ready to play.

—

From that moment forward, Matt has been obsessed with you. He gave himself a day to decide whether he wanted to pursue you or not, but after hearing his lacrosse buddies talking about you one time after practice, he decided no one else could have you. The comments they were making were typical, the same things they said about every girl they found attractive, but because it was about you it irked him.

So, two days after your fateful encounter on the lacrosse field, Matt was waiting for you to finish cheer practice from outside the gym, fully clad in his lacrosse uniform, sweaty and dirty from practicing just moments before. Chris was standing nearby, chatting up another cheerleader who snuck out of the gym to be with him. Nick always reprimanded Chris for this, especially because it directly affected her performance and it showed on the field when she was struggling to keep up.

Matt debated on whether or not he should do the same, call you out from practice to tell you everything that was on his mind, but he loved watching you perfectly execute your routines during games. He wanted his girl to be the best, outperforming everyone else seamlessly. So, instead he decided to patiently wait for you.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the music in the gym turns off and he can hear sneakers against the waxy floor as you all rush towards the locker room. For someone so dark and mysterious, Matt actually found himself getting excited.

Not long after, you and Nick walk out of the locker room. You’re laughing at something Nick said as you sling your duffel bag on your shoulder. Matt watches as you throw you head back in laughter, the bow in your hair twirling in the wind.

Nick instinctively walks towards his brothers and you follow suit, still too immersed in the conversation to notice Matt. Once you’re close enough, Nick sends the cheerleader talking to Chris a disapproving look that has her scurrying away and into the locker room.

“What was that for??” Chris exclaims, watching as the girl he was chatting up disappears. “Dude you always distract her, it shows on the field. She has the sloppiest performance out of everyone on the team,” Nick comments blatantly, readjusting his bag on his shoulder. “So? Just kick her off then!” Chris retaliates, running an exasperated hand through his hair. “Would you date her if she wasn’t on the team?” you chime in, laughing at how flustered Chris has become. He thinks about it for a while, “no, yeah probably not.”

His response elicits a laugh from you and a scoff from Nick, who begins scolding him. Matt is watching you intently, trying to gain your attention through some form of telepathy. You feel his burning gaze on you, finally looking at him through your long, thick eyelashes. “What about you? Any girls on the team won your heart yet?” you ask, a playful grin appearing on your face. After your last encounter with him, you’re hoping he doesn’t even know anyone else on the roster and just blurts out your name.

“Hmmm maybe,” he replies with a smirk, reaching in his pocket for his lighter and a cigarette. “Oh really? Mr. Tough Guy’s in love?” you tease, watching as he places a cigarette in between his lips and lights it with ease, taking a quick draw of it before pinching it away. Nick and Chris have started walking to the parking lot at this point, too immersed in their own world to notice you and Matt flirting.

“Something like that,” the smoke puffs out with each word, swirling in the air before fading away. He brings the cigarette back up onto his lips, intently waiting for you next move. What you say next is unexpected, “can I try?” You’re pointing at the cigarette innocently, causing Matt’s eyes to open in shock.

“Too strong for you, sweetheart,” he replies coyly, blowing the smoke out through the side of his mouth. “How am I supposed to get used to it then?” you’re referring to what you said the other day, hoping to jog his memory and let him know that you still want him.

Matt doesn’t skip a beat, within seconds he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him. “Slowly,” he answers in a whisper, taking a long drag of his cigarette before moving his face closer to yours. You’re holding onto his shoulders for support, watching intently as his face gets closer and closer to yours.

Without another word, his lips are inches from yours as he exhales the smoke into your mouth, capturing your lips in a quick kiss. His mouth melts into yours, working the smoke into your lungs with each movement. When he pulls away from the kiss, you’re immediately coughing up a storm. Your nose burns and tears brim at your eyes from the strong sensation.

“Told you it was too strong for you,” he comments with a chuckle, putting the cigarette out on the brick wall behind him before moving his other arm around your waist. Once you’re finally not coughing he speaks again, “Here, let’s try that again, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, moving your hands from his chest to his neck. He leans in for another kiss, this time savoring your sweet kiss without any smoke to inhibit his taste buds.

In that moment, Matt knew he didn’t have to say anything else, you became his girl.

—

The next few weeks were amazing, you finally got everything you wanted, all you needed to do now was flaunt all of it in front of your dad and watch how horrified he became.

“Hi baby,” Matt whispers, throwing an arm over your shoulder while you wait in the lunch line. Matt never ate lunch at school, he’d usually get in his car and hit up the nearest fast food place or walk off campus for a smoke break. He found the cafeteria to be too chaotic, there was nowhere to seclude himself and even less areas to eat a meal in peace and quiet. But, that you two are dating, he’s started dragging you along on his school day adventures. Sometimes you’ll just get lunch, other times you’ll sit and talk to him while he smokes, but most times you’ll end up making out in the backseat of his car.

“Hi handsome,” you reply in a cheery tone, tiptoeing so you can plant a quick peck on his lips. He smiles into the kiss.

“Let’s go to my car? I’ll treat you to lunch, pretty girl,” he suggests, already beginning to walk towards his car with you under his arm. You don’t complain, especially because this is the closest you’d ever get to real dates with Matt, especially when under the careful watch of your parents.

You guys end up at a local Mexican restaurant, it was a restaurant that your family frequented on Sunday’s after church so you were well acquainted with it. Once inside, you and Matt are directed to a booth in the back, perfectly secluded and away from prying eyes. He takes a seat across from you, smiling at you in a lovesick gaze.

Maybe it was too early to say it, but Matt definitely felt it; he loved you. He was apprehensive to admit it, even just to himself, because he was scared to get hurt, but so far your relationship has been nothing but sweet.

The waitress takes your order and you don’t even need to look at the menu to know what you want which catches Matt by surprise. “You bring all your boyfriends here?” he jokes, folding the menu and handing it to the waitress after placing his order. “Only the cute ones,” you joke in return, sending him a playful wink. He laughs, holding your hand in his on the table.

“This is my dad’s favorite restaurant, we come here like every Sunday after service,” you explain, taking a quick sip of your drink. Matt nods his head, of course he didn’t suspect you were cheating, but he appreciated the explanation.

“Your dad has good taste,” he comments. You never spoke about your family so everything he knew was by word of mouth. He knew the basics; your dad was a Pastor, you came from a conservative family, and your Sundays were usually occupied with church.

You hum in response, trying to think of a topic to avert the conversation from your dad, and, as if on cue, the front door rings. A customer just walked into the restaurant, nothing out of the ordinary, but upon further inspection you realize it’s your dad. You’re mid sip, choking slightly on the liquid as you try quickly swallowing from the shock.

Matt notices your distress, following your gaze to see what has you so nervous all of a sudden. That’s when he sees him, your dad standing by the front waiting to be seated. Matt’s not scared, but he is nervous to possibly meet your dad. He wants to make a good impression, but with the tattoos, long hair, and lingering smell of cigarette smoke, he doubts he’ll be successful in doing that.

“Speak of the devil,” you mumble, watching closely for your dad’s next move.

Matt’s surprised you’re not rushing to leave, you actually look calm now, almost like you’re hoping your dad will be seated one booth over. For the first time in your relationship he senses an ulterior motive behind your actions and he doesn’t know whether to be scared or turned on.

He remembers the good girl you were, the girl who always arrived to class on time, the girl who would never be caught skipping school and he wonders where this sudden rebellious nature came from. But now he gets it, this is a game to you, you want your dad to catch you skipping school with the ‘bad boy,’ you want to make your dad so upset his face turns red. Matt doesn’t know what to think about that, but if this is the game then he’d happily play along, he’d do anything for his girl.

The restaurant host sits your dad a few booths down and he situates himself in the seat directly facing you, if he looks your way at the right angle he’d easily see you. But he’s too occupied in conversation with the waitress to notice anything, ordering his food before pulling out a book.

“Here’s your food, Miss Y/n,” the waitress says with a smile, placing plates of food on the table. The waitress learned your name from all the years your family visited the restaurant, and although you appreciated the effort, you wanted to slap a hand against her mouth for giving you away. Matt’s eyes go wide, she said it really loud, did your dad hear?

“Thank you,” you reply quickly with a tight lipped smile, trying to shoo her away as fast as possible. You look back towards your dad’s booth, fully expecting him to still be turning pages in his book, but his eyes are locked on you. He’s seething, you can practically see the smoke coming from his ears.

You waited for him to get up from the booth and walk over to your table, but instead he pulls out his wallet and throws a bill on the table, grabbing his stuff and walking out. The waitress watches in confusion, and so do you. What the hell was he doing?

Matt senses the movement, straining his neck to watch your dad walk out. He suddenly becomes nervous because even though he wanted to help you piss off your parents, he also wanted to be the boyfriend parents welcomed with open arms despite his appearance.

When you finish eating, you’re walking out of the restaurant intently searching for your dad. He was sure to be lurking around the parking lot somewhere. You’re holding Matt’s hand, walking slowly to his car.

“Y/n! Where do you think you’re going?!” your dad’s voice booms from the other side of the parking lot. He waited outside until you and Matt finished your meal, not wanting to make a scene in his favorite restaurant.

You watch as he slams the car door closed, storming over to you and Matt with an unreadable expression on his face. “Is this what I send you to school for? So you can skip with.. with this?! What will people think? What will the church think? The pastors daughter off fornicating with a- with a delinquent,” your dad motions up and down Matt’s body, clearly displeased with his appearance and attire. It makes you so mad, but you don’t even get the chance to respond because your dad won’t stop talking, “You’re coming home with me right now. Say goodbye to your phone, cheerleading, and this boy because you’re never seeing them again!”

He attempts to grab your arm, but you pull away. “Y/n. Do not make this any more difficult than it already is. Let’s go!”

“No.” Your reply is short and curt, but it’s stern enough to appall your father.

“No? No?! Who do you think you are?! You’re nothing but a stupid little girl, now get in the car.” He reaches for you again, this time managing to pinch your skin slightly. “Ow, stop,” you exclaim, pushing him away from you slightly. Matt protectively moves you behind him in one quick swoop, using his body to prevent your dad from touching you again.

“Get out of the way, this is between me and my daughter.”

“Not happening,” Matt replies, towering over your dad.

“This is what you want, Y/n? A stupid hippie? He reeks of cigarettes and has tattoos, didn’t I teach you better?!” Matt is fuming at this point, your dad was the most disrespectful person he’d ever met. “Dad, just go. I’m not choosing you over Matt,” you reply, trying to stand your ground, but sounding so weak and small.

“I’m not asking you to choose me, I’m asking you to choose God. But if you want to choose this boy, then go ahead, but don’t come knocking on my door when he gets you pregnant and leaves you,” he yells. Was he kicking you out?

“What?” you ask, stepping out from behind Matt.

“You heard me, girl. Don’t bother coming home unless it’s without him.”

Without another word your dad is walking back to his car and pulling out of the parking lot, driving away and leaving you with nothing but the dust. You watch with teary eyes as his car disappears into the horizon, you never meant for it to end like this. All you wanted was a little freedom, but your rebellious actions have warranted a consequence you never anticipated.

“Hey, hey. It’s gonna be okay,” Matt whispers, bringing you in for a warm hug. He’s patting your hair as you bury your face in his chest, allowing the tears to flow. “What am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to go?” you hiccup, wrapping your arms around Matt’s torso in an attempt to feel him closer.

“You can stay at my house,” he replies and he means it, he’d do anything for you. In retrospect he should’ve seen this coming from the moment he realized you were trying to piss off your parents, but he’s too far gone now to turn back. Matt’s too in love with you at this point for his own good, the only thing he can think to do is protect you.

“Are you sure?” you feel like a helpless little mouse again, except this time Matt feels like a security blanket instead of a potential threat.

“I’m sure.” Matt places a loving kiss on your lips before kissing your forehead and pulling you into him again.

Whatever happened, you and Matt were going to get through it together. After all, Matt decided to play your game.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Shwoop here you go luv u honey bunches thank you for the request. I hope you enjoy!!

Also, I had never heard this song before but it’s def going on my playlist now & I will be searching for those tiktok edits hehehe

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 372: Gone Viral

At this point I’d watched the video, the twenty-second clip from Amelia’s Saturday-night stream that had gone absolutely viral, more times than I could count. The clip was everywhere now. My phone was broken but I still had my desktop computer, and the video player filled my screen.

MAN MAKES GIRLS GROW BY CUMMING!!!

 It still made my mouth gape, it still made my skin crawl, and as I sat in my office alone this Tuesday morning it made me deathly afraid. What the actual fuck is happening?!? What had I become involved in?!? What had been happening to my body and - what was I doing to theirs?!?

Josie’s breasts broke out of her top. 

It was a trick, had to be something with editing, or a really good animation, or something - right?!? People don’t just…grow! It was physically impossible! It broke so many fundamental laws of nature and physics and physiology. It had to be fake. Didn’t it?? And, of course, it wasn’t me that caused it. It couldn’t be!

Lakshmi’s ass ballooned. 

Someone - one of the girls, or some online perv - had obviously made this clip of Amelia’s live recording of me sitting on Melissa’s lap, on her couch, surrounded by girls in bikinis and pajamas and getting whacked off by Josie. They’d clipped it, done weird things to it, and posted it…everywhere. That was the only explanation, that it had been altered. But…no. Now that I thought about it, I remembered. Memories came flooding back. 

Katie’s feet grew and burst from her flip-flop sandals. 

And what was happening with Josie’s hair?!?

And Melissa…Melissa looked enormous!

Oh my god!!

As I relived it again - the first time, in fact, back in the breakroom after a few bites of that terrible scone this morning - the memories started to get clearer. The girls had grown, all around me, my female staff had burgeoned and swelled. They surrounded me pressing around into me on Saturday night right after my handjob in Josie’s grip. And, though it didn’t make it onto the clip’s audio, I now remembered Randi’s whispered voice in my ear: “Get ready little man, your girls are going to eat you alive.”

Again: Oh my god!!

Three million views! More! More than three million views this thing had already, just on GirlToob (this popular, rapidly growing new video platform filled with content “for a female audience”) and it was posted only two days ago! I watched it again, looping. 

There I was, naked as day (certain parts of my anatomy were pixelated out for modesty on some sites, like this one, but I was full Monty on many of the re-uploads) and spasming in climax like a rag doll. And then, as the camera left me and scanned the surrounding women all suddenly consumed in ecstasy, the growth began. Josie’s top, Lakshmi’s bottom, and Katie’s feet, they all got bigger. And, by god, they all got taller too, right after I’d obviously climaxed Yes, it was subtle, and maybe a trick, but the fact remained: I was now internet famous for making girls grow. 

Can one actually die from humiliation? Is there an ICD-13 code for End-Stage Shame? Because I had a terminal case of mortification that was currently making my blood ice water and I felt like I should just go hide under a rock for oh…I don't know…the next decade or so. 

I watched the loop again, still in stunned silence staring into my future and feeling the world close in all around me. Though I tried my best to deny it as trickery, part of me knew this was no joke. It was as if I’d realized this all before, sitting there that Saturday night, but only now had it actually become real. And it was very, very public. Had I been mad at Amelia for streaming this, on Saturday night? I don’t think I was. In fact, I’m pretty sure I didn’t even know it was happening at the time, but when the girls showed me the video early this morning I kind of freaked out a bit. They all just laughed as they watched my reaction.. 

“Aww! Don’t be so dramatic,” one of them had said. 

“It’s all good,” said another. 

“People love you,” they tried to tell me. 

“Here, look at these comments, there’s hundreds of them,” I was told, “one girl calls you a hunk!”

“Or this one: ‘He’s every girl’s dream’.”

‘I want to hug him like a teddy bear.’

I want to eat him for breakfast. 

Can I be next haha??

Though most of the commenters were women, men had chimed in too: ‘ugh the dude is supersimp’ and ‘fuck yes make them all biggger u fuck’ or ‘STOP JUST WATCHNG WE NEED TO STIP THIS’

GOOD LORD!! I was, suddenly, a pariah, a savior, an object of lust and envy all at once. Millions of people had seen this! My heart thrump-thummed in my chest as my skin prickled with ignominy and the anxiety that was coming on like a horde of locusts. It was eating everything! Did I need to go to the authorities? Did I need to go to the hospital to find out what was wrong with me? Or did I just need to commit myself to the psych ward and be done with it? 

I needed t-

A knock at my door.

“Dr J?” came Aubrey’s voice, followed by Aubrey herself. Goddamnit even in my discomfit, my soul-panic, my eyes went to her tits. Jesus, her chest. Holy Christ her figure. This is Aubrey?!? Little Aubrey?!? She’d been six inches shorter - easily! - three months ago. If somehow I was responsible for all these changes to all these girls -  What have I done to her?!? She stepped in, closing the door to my office behind her, wearing a sensible - if overmatched - blue blouse, a mid-length skirt, and a look of concern. She was also carrying my ‘World’s Best Boss’ mug. 

“H-hey Aubrey, c-C-ome in,” I greeted her, hearing my voice crack again. It had been doing that more and more recently, especially in times of stress. I sounded like a pre-teen. I glanced at the white mug, which after a contrite thanks she offered to me. I hesitated. I remembered the cup the girls had poured me earlier; I hadn’t been able to stomach even a sip. “Is that my coffee?”

“No,” she said, a funny shiver to her voice, “I…I know you haven’t been drinking coffee, so…so I brought you this.”

I didn’t even notice her eyes watching me, studying my face as I accepted the mug and took a look at its contents. Jesus the mug felt heavy to me. And inside -  milk, of course it was milk. Melissa had been insistent we keep a gallon of both 2% and whole in the breakroom fridge now, in case I ever got thirsty, or hungry. It was - I had to admit - the easiest thing on my stomach these days. I was more than a little self-conscious that I’d become a milk-drinker and blushed a little here in front of Aubrey. The smell, though, cut through my perturbation. Wow, I guess I’m really craving this. It made sense: I hadn’t eaten much at all this morning. 

Aubrey continued to watch as I brought the mug to my lips and took a sip. Wow. It was delicious. Creamy, sweet, earthy. Maybe this is a new brand? And…

“You warmed it up?” I asked. It was warm, perfect. Like body temperature. 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Aubrey answered, still sounding slightly nervous as she bit her lip, “in the, um, microwave? Is that okay?”

“Sure,” I answered, taking another sip, and then another. It caressed my mouth, slipped down my throat and immediately went to work filling my body with warmth and a new sense of something good, familiar. Holy crap this is great. I fought the urge to just gulp it down. “Thank you so much, Aubrey.” There was something different in my voice. I sounded calmer. 

“You’re welcome,” she answered. 

This, of course dear readers, was Katarina’s breastmilk. I didn’t know that at the time though, and somehow, in that moment I didn’t put the memory together, or recognize the taste. Again, my abilities to avoid the truth were Olympian. I’d drank of it over the weekend and this was the same thing, but goddammit as I sat at my desk my mind was if nothing else a fortress of denial. Subconsciously I refused to acknowledge it - but  I was drinking breastmilk.  

I looked up at Aubrey and instead of seeing a woman complicit in a plot to overthrow my authority here at the office, physically infantilize me into a cretin, and help herald in a new age of overwhelming female power, my eyes saw someone else. I saw a girl who cared about me, an employee who wanted my day to go well, and a budding friend. A daughter-figure in some respects, a cool younger protege in others. 

Christ I was so deluded!!!

But, no. Aubrey - all the girls, really - was all these things. Our little story here, if you haven’t figured it out by this point, is complicated. Good guys, bad guys, heroes and villains? It was all too convoluted for labels. What was I, for that matter? A culpable anti-hero working against my gender? A victim, a helpless simp? Was I the lead actor in a comedy, tragedy or reality-show from the most fucked-up universe ever? I don’t goddamn know, even now. But the fact of the matter is, at that moment in time - gazing up at Aubrey with my “World’s Best Boss” mug in my hand and my medical-records clerk’s breastmilk worming its way into me - I felt great. 

“What are you watching?” Aubrey asked, noticing that my screen was on, video player playing, looping. 

“Oh, yeah, this,” I said, taking another sip of warm, delicious  milk and turning the monitor towards her, “this is great. Wanna watch..?”

====================================

mucho thanks to RiF for editing and guidance

[jgracie]

WHEN YOU’RE CLOSE TO ME

masterlist | rules

‘cause you are my medicine, when you're close to me

pairing travis stoll x demeter!reader

warnings none!

on the radio . . . on melancholy hill (gorillaz)

an i had to put u guys on my vision !!!!!!!!! reader is a daughter of demeter… i wonder why ?! this is short but i just had to write something other than percy for a second LOL also when they're sitting at the cafe tgt i imagine the ‘on melancholy hill’ trend on tt hence the song choice

you’re so pretty. too pretty. ever since your little quest - which consisted of retrieving his father’s caduceus for him - ended, your face was all travis could think about.

whenever he closed his eyes, he saw your sparkling eyes and bright smile, as well as the flowers that couldn’t help but bloom all over you, your excitement causing your powers to go haywire.

being one of the few demigods who’d been living at camp since birth, you were dying to see the outside world for as long as you could remember. so, when you heard travis needed a second for his quest, you begged him to choose you, and despite many of his siblings wanting to go too, he did choose you, unable to say no to your cute face

with you, new york, a city travis knew like the back of his hand, went from being mundane to a city from one of those fantasy books the athena kids were obsessed with. you marveled at everything around you, taking a million different stops and trying a million different food and drink items.

soon enough, you passed by a cafe that you just had to have a drink at, and who was travis to deny you? his father could wait, he was immortal after all. so, the two of you made your way to a table in the corner and ordered drinks. travis got a coffee you insisted was too bitter, while you got matcha, which he thought tasted awfully similar to grass.

during your time at the cafe, you made small talk every once-in-a-while, but mostly just basked in the comforting silence that blanketed the two of you. you rarely ever interacted at camp, but for some reason, it felt right for travis to be alone with you.

eventually, you did find the caduceus and returned it to hermes, who was eternally grateful and offered to fly you to barcelona for a one day getaway, but that didn't matter. all travis can remember about that quest is your presence. the longer travis knew you for, the more y/n-shaped blossoms bloomed in his heart.

which is why he did what he did. he knew very well that the demeter cabin sold bouquets to both demigods at camp and flower shops outside of camp, and after some sneaking around, he was able to find out that you worked with your siblings on tuesdays, thursdays and saturdays.

today happened to be a saturday. travis sent a request for a bouquet today, knowing you'd be the one to put it together. after borrowing a book from michael in the athena cabin, he was able to choose the flowers he wanted for this very special bouquet: pink bluebells, carnations, alyssums and camellias.

"travis! i have your bouquet!" you said, breaking his train of thought, "i knocked three times but no one answered so i let myself in, i hope you don't mind," in your hands was the bouquet, tied at the stems with a pink ribbon.

taking it from you, travis took a good look at it. naturally, it was perfect. he didn't expect any less from you, "thank you, y/n, but i need this delivered. it isn't for me," he said, praying his plan worked.

"oh, okay, who's it for? i'll get katie to deliver it now," you said, a warm smile tugging at your lips.

"it's alright, i'll do it myself. she isn't too far from here," he said, before handing you the bouquet, a blush coating his freckles. maybe he should've confessed in a more traditional way.

you looked down at the bouquet, confused, then up at him, and understood. violets bloomed in your hair as you said, "travis, this is really sweet of you. no one's ever done something this nice for me!" your smile got wider then, and travis was close to swearing on the styx to get you a bouquet of flowers every day if it meant you'd smile at him like that

a sudden wave of boldness washed over travis, and he knew what he had to do. just as you were about to leave, he said, "since i'm so sweet, would you wanna go explore new york with me again? no quests this time."

you looked over your shoulder and back at him, and at that moment, travis knew he wouldn't need the infirmary as long as you were his. you were better than any medicine the apollo cabin could prescribe him

"sure, travis, but only if we can take your dad up on his offer afterwards!"

[haikirii]

Paranormal Order Community Survival Guide (and other things you need to know for Saturday)

Ok, let's start. First of all, I've been in the Paranormal Order community since the first live season announcement. I've seen this community change so many times and I think it would be cool to warn a few things for those who are going to see Saturday's episode with the global creators.

Despite the recent problems - which have been translated here - the community is not complicated to deal with, you just need to know where to enter and where to stay to have a good experience. So, here are some tips.

1 - Watch the rpg live with the chat CLOSED.

The Paranormal Order live chat IS NOT the regular stream chat. This is one of the biggest tabletop RPG projects in Brazil and, because of this, it is very difficult to have 100% control of the chat.

Obviously, the moderators already have years of experience to deal with. The chat will be 100% in submode and only the Tuesday chat, which is when the episode replays for those who missed it on Saturday, will be open to everyone.

However, this does not prevent hate comments from happening in the chat, as many do not watch Cellbit regularly and just sub to talk in the chat/watch the episode without ads. It's no joke, the rpg chat is known for being a toxic chat that has made players cry in the middle of the session when it was still online.

2 - If you see any hate, ignore it or make a joke.

It's more of a personal recommendation. Even within the community, the essential thing is to ignore hate that has few likes or things like that so it doesn't spread OR turn into a copypasta.

Generally on Twitter it's easier to ignore, because you can just filter things and rarely does anyone post hate on the tag where we comment the live.

MAYBE hate can happen from outside the community, we have suffered a lot of hate for years because it is a "nerd thing" and/or it is a Cellbit's project, which receives a lot of hate here in Brazil and we suffered from hate for a long time. I don't know if it will happen in this episode since the community is much larger, but it's just a warning that it could happen.

But as the old saying goes in the fandom: talking bad about Order gets likes on Twitter.

3 - Some people who watch Ordem are unhappy.

Nothing really serious, but some people in the community don't like QSMP out of sheer annoyance with the project and are frustrated with Saturday's episode because they expected something from the main story - which they've already been warned won't happen until Enigma of Fear comes out.

Which brings us to the Discord situation that I mentioned at the beginning of the post. Just situating what is happening, ignore these people and support Cellbit, which is doing his best.

Paranormal Order is his life project, we all want to give as much support as possible despite these people who call themselves fans and seem to hate the project.

4 - General dates and stuffs.

It's an independent story from the main story and will be in English, so don't worry about needing to watch past seasons to understand because the basis will be explained in the episode.

The episode will happen live on Saturday, September 23rd at 6pm BRT. I saw some people asking and no, it's not a pre-recorded video being show in live, everything is 100% done on the spot.

If you missed the episode, a rerun will take place on Tuesday at the same time and the vod will be for subs only. However, you can still wait until it comes out Thursday on YouTube for free on the official channel.

On average, typical episodes last 4-5 hours. However, as it is a oneshot, it may last 6 hours but Cellbit always warns you in advance if the episode is too long.

The episodes have breaks for you to go to the bathroom or stretch your legs and for the players to rest a little.

The Order fandom does a LOT of live tweets at the time of the episode, the fun is seeing everyone commenting together so we use a # specific to each campaign. In this campaign, we will use #OPQ and you can also use it to post memes and fanarts.

When the episode starts, you will be notified on the official Twitter. But there are two things: IT'S ALWAYS DELAYED and THERE'S ALWAYS A TIMER. So don't worry about arriving at exactly 6pm BRT, you'll have a little time to prepare until the episode actually starts.

5 - We organize ourselves on Twitter.

The order fandom is very active on Twitter and always does dynamics with all profiles and we upload a sentence on the day of the episode to give hype. Even Wiki and some official Order players participate.

We are still deciding on the phrase we will upload to tts, so if you want to help, just keep an eye on the brazilians in the fandom. However, the pack has already been decided and if you want to participate in the fun. Here's what my profile looks like.

I think this is the basis of what you need to know, maybe I'll reblog adding things later if I remember too much. The Ordem community is not a monster, but I'm giving you these tips so you can live in peace in it.

[klausysworld]

you can do a one-shot for yandere klaus mikaelson, where Hope is already a teenager and all her life she adored her parents and family and always wished that someone would love her like her father loves her mother *y/n*, but one day he was reading cases of people who had been missing for years and a case in particular of a girl who seems quite familiar to him, and he discovers that this girl is his mother years ago and he starts to investigate and discovers his father's obsession with his mother and that he kidnapped her and kept her with him until she fell in love with him, he also discovered the secret rooms of the mansion that have her mother's stolen belongings and her portraits. Obviously Hope feels cheated and disillusioned and wants to confront her father.

Confusion, Fear, Horror.

Hope knew she was cherished by her family.

Her aunts and uncles fawned over her and brought her the best possible gifts at special occasions.

Her father always called her ‘his hope’ and made sure she knew she could always have whatever she desired.

And her mother…her mother looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. She calmed her father whenever he got mad that she was going out with friends. When Hope got home late, her mother would sort everything out. She was like a guardian angel.

So finding an image of her on a ‘missing person’s’ website was a shock. At first she thought maybe it wasn’t her, maybe a doppelgänger of sorts?

So she began to dig.

She certainly wasn’t expecting to find a secret passage way.

To find hundreds of portraits of her mother, stacks of pictures of her doing things as simple as walking down the street to standing in a towel in the window.

Clothes in boxes labelled by the year and dozens of love notes written to y/n from Klaus.

And then a note book…

Mondays ~ 2:30pm she has afternoon tea with male co-worker. Needs to stop.

Tuesdays ~ works until 5pm. Walks home alone. Possible opening.

Wednesdays ~ gets a lift home from work,, varies between three coworkers. Kill all?

Thursdays ~ tight schedule at work-forgets her lunch. Will come in handy when courting.

Fridays ~ half day. Possible date night?

Saturdays ~ often sees friends and/or family. Need to tear her away from this.

Sundays ~ lazy days. Great days to watch her.

She blinked in confusion and slight fear before turning over the page

Favourite colour=y/f/c

Favourite food=y/f/f

Favourite song=y/f/s

Dream job=y/d/j

Favourite things to do=f/s/t

Aspirations=y/a

And so on.

There were pages and pages of information on her.

Hope wanted to believe that he was just an amazing boyfriend. He just loved her so much he made sure write down everything she told him. But then she found the notes

At 2:36pm I watched her go into a mans house.

4:08 I eliminated the problem.

6:29 she had a shower. Left her curtains open.

7:45 she had her dinner. Alone this time-good.

9:13 she put her favourite show on

01:53 she fell asleep on her couch-it’s okay, I moved her to her bed.

She didn’t know what to think. With the amount of times he had written in these books, it’s safe to assume he watched her daily, nightly for months, years on end.

Even after he seemed to ‘get her’, court her, he still watched her. He suspected she would cheat on him, leave him. He was more paranoid than she had ever known him to be.

And the entry he made about ‘taking’ her mother completely through her off course.

She looked through security footage of the dungeons only to watch her own mother scream and fight against her father. They were both hysterical and Hope watched in horror as her father threatened and raged at her mother.

Over the weeks she watched her mother slowly become more obedient and affectionate towards Klaus.

She watched as her mother clung to him in fear that he would leave her alone for days upon end, she noticed her fathers manipulative behaviour from the “how do I know this isn’t some ploy to make me let you go?” To “I just don’t think you truly mean it” Watching her mother beg for him to stay, pleading for him to show her some sort of affection.

She saw how her mother became reliant on him, how she began to love him because he was all she had.

She saw the photos of her mother pregnant, Elijah, Rebekah, Kol and Freya all in the background as Klaus tended to her mothers needs.

Pictures of her as a baby and how her mother sobbed as she held her, the look she had in her eyes when Klaus took Hope from her arms, the fear they held.

Hope didn’t understand.

She saw her parents in whole other light.

Every time Klaus would take something from y/n’s hands and give her a look, the way she would lower her head and apologise and he would remind her to ask before she does.

The certain looks he would give her, almost warning like when she ‘stepped out of line’

It frightened Hope.

She tried to say something to her mother but as soon as Y/n realised she knew, the utter horror on her face was enough to stop Hope.

“Hope- please, you need to be quiet, please my heart, please I promise I’ll keep you safe”

The way y/n would hold her and cry until it was Hope holding her mother and convincing her it was okay

“We can run away”

“I know it’s difficult to understand but…I do…I do love him Hope…I just…do”

Y/n feared for both of them what would happen if Hope spoke out of term. Y/n would never let anything happen to her baby but her baby was strong enough now go protect her mother too.