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angelwithdemonictendencies · 1 month

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i'd sigh in bliss, even while drowning, if only it was your hand holding me under; your kiss is the most violent death i've ever known.

qh43 x reader: let's take this bitter tension on the water, shall we?

(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (have you guys seen his hair, recently?), choking (it's really been too long. too many nice guys), talking (he brings out the best in me), tears (or the worst idk), lots and lots and lots of miscommunication and tension and being kinda mean, obviously i'm forgetting things but all my usual stuff. please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: thank you for waiting, my favorites. i give you qh43 x doll (on deck). this idea has taken me a long time to flesh out, with lots of work and outlining and such, so i really hope you enjoy. i told myself it was going to be short and it ended up being 16.5k, because i have no self control. i guess i was just in the mood to write angst-filled argument after angst-filled argument, given all the sweet boy content i've been putting out recently (don't worry, that will be back soon enough). and qh43 is my go-to for the sad stuff, for the fights and kisses in the rain (literally, this time). can you tell i was listening to taylor's is it really over? way too much and thought... what if it wasn't? over, that is? obviously, none of this makes any logistical sense, you guys know this. thank you for reading anyways. let's see, what else? loving the nico slut headcanon i'm committing to. also love a good mt19 gap-tooth takeover (is he not the perfect cruise ship fling?). and luke is here, too, for all the people telling me to write for him. i'm sorry, i know the miscommunication trope is frustrating and the one-bed trope is cliche. please, for the love of god, take this as a sign to be clear with people about how you feel. life is too short. i have like one billion baby stories started right now, so we will see for which inspiration proves most fruitful. will it be golf pro cc22 x bevcart girl? geology ta js1 x classics ta? the tj17 one i've been trying to finish forever? none of the above? we'll see. pretty, pretty please, tell me what you think. go canucks (dare i say cup-bound), tell your snakes i love them. until next time. love, always).

as much as you wanted to be completely and purely excited for this little excursion, as much as you wanted this to be a truly undiluted celebration of your best friend's wedding next weekend, something was standing in your way.

"c'mon," the bride-to-be, savannah, said, standing on the pier next to you as you gazed out at the obscenely massive cruise ship, its numerous windows like the eyes of a spider, much too many and much too close together, "you've worked so hard, babe." she gave you a tight side-hug, which you returned. "you've made this whole process so easy, hm? let loose for a weekend, and then, i promise, you can go right back to being the militant maid of honor you are."

you let out a short laugh, let your shoulders settle back into place. "thanks for this weekend, sav," you said. "it's gonna be great." she was right, of course, in some ways, and wrong in others.

you had worked hard, very, very hard, because you cared about savannah, loved her like a sister, and you wanted her wedding to be one of dreams. you liked jack, her fiance, a lot, too, and you liked them together, saw how they brought out the best in each other.

it had been months of making sure everything during the planning process went over smoothly, of being there for savannah when the world felt like it was ending, when the pressure of a wedding felt like it was insurmountable.

when bridesmaids had a little too much to say about their dresses, or when family members had a little too much to say about their hotel arrangements, or when savannah herself had a little too much to say about how it just had to be perfect, you were there, mitigating the worries and stressors and potential problems.

it had been a rewarding but draining couple of months.

savannah had seen that, had appreciated you even more because of it, so her and jack had planned this mini-vacation as a thank you for both of their wedding parties. the big day was next week, so this was supposed to be a final relaxing deep breath before the inevitable whirlwind of white lace and dress shoes and pink flowers.

and it would be relaxing, you were sure of it, you wouldn't let it not be, if only because your best friend wanted it to be so adamantly. it would be a perfect weekend vacation, the perfect cruise getaway, the perfect source of pre-wedding bliss.

it would be, it would be all of these things, as long as you stayed as far away from quinn hughes as was humanly possible.

the brother of the groom, the best man, your counterpart in the wedding, whom you had been fairly successful in avoiding whenever possible, all things considered. you'd been in the same friend group for years, after all, since the end of college. years of averted glances, charged comments that you pretended to ignore, of memories that left your cheeks hot and anger hotter.

you hadn't had a major blowout with him yet, and you were confident enough in your self-control to believe you wouldn't start now. you'd never been confined on a boat with him before, though, hadn't been stuck in a room with him without an escape plan, so that would present a new challenge.

what was every day in the periphery of quinn, though, if not a new challenge? a challenge more devastatingly taxing with each passing moment?

as you and your best friend boarded the ship together, you hoped that you could postpone seeing him for as long as possible. maybe if you stayed in your room the whole weekend, you wouldn't have to see him at all. wouldn't that be fun?

savannah dropped her stuff and told you she was going to find jack, leaving you to unpack your things and enjoy some moments of silence before what would surely be a tornado of a weekend.

unfortunately, as you folded your clothes and organized them in drawers, your mind wandered, with nothing to focus on but your anxieties. your anxiety, personified, in a broad, shaggy-haired, soft-featured best man.

you sighed, as you often did when you thought of quinn, because no, it hadn't always been this way. there had been a single, lovely, dreamy night during which the two of you hadn't hated each other. quite the opposite, actually.

it felt sort of unfair that, even now, years later, he could still evoke such a visceral feeling in you, a kind of hatred you felt in your stomach, a kind of shame that rattled through your skull, a regret that set your chest ablaze. and as much as it pained you to think it, it felt sort of unfair that savannah was getting married to jack, because you had known quinn first. it had been you and quinn, first.

it had been you and quinn, both of you at the just-off-campus bar alone, waiting for your respective friends to show up. you had spotted him across the room, his pretty face made so angelic by the hazy neon light. he had spotted you too, had been so unapologetic about letting his gaze settle in the pockets of your exposed collarbones, then flickering up to meet your careful eyes slowly, heatedly.

it had been you and quinn, in a back booth, once he'd bought you a beer and motioned for you to join him, a precise but easy tilt of his head in invitation. on that waxy bench seat, as time passed, you grew much closer together than you could have made a real excuse for, until the outside of your thigh was pressed up against his, until he angled his shoulder back so you could lean your side on his chest, until there was really no question as to where the night was going to go. where it was going to end.

until he rewrote the script you'd assumed into place, too, because when you talked with him for that hour or so, drinks practically forgotten on the table, friends absolutely forgotten, he wasn't like the one-night-onlys you'd had in the past.

he was pretty, sure, almost embarrassingly so, but he spoke to you so gently, with such care, it stunned you.

when he asked you about your day, you were shocked to find completely genuineness in his gaze.

when you asked about his friends, when they were showing up, you couldn't help but feel a little endeared by his short laugh. "athletes," he told you, then, "most unreliable people on the planet, doll, swear it."

it had been you and quinn, basically melting into each other, in that booth, and it had been you and quinn, at his place, after. when you'd discovered that he tasted like something citrusy, maybe grapefruit, from whatever he'd been drinking, when you'd felt his rough hands on your face, your hips, when his voice had grown low and husky and brutal, barely pausing for even a moment when he pushed into you for the first time, so overwhelmingly deep and hard.

he'd been so gentle, yet undeniable, so tender, but he'd said things that now made you blush.

he'd been the best fuck of your life, somehow also the kind of person you'd truly, genuinely, been able to see yourself developing a relationship with. you'd thought he was a once in a lifetime kind of person.

you'd left his place early that morning to get to class, kissed his shoulder softly in goodbye while he slept soundly.

little did you know that, that next night, savannah would meet jack, who was out with quinn. as such, savannah would introduce you to jack.

"this is my brother, quinn," jack would say to you, eventually, and your eyes would soften at the sight of him as you turned.

you would open your mouth to say something along the lines of oh, we've already met, but then quinn would extend a hand to you.

"nice to meet you," he'd say, stony, cold, and you'd narrow your eyes, search his gaze for anything humorous, come up empty. surely he remembered you, right? it was almost worse to imagine that he did remember, that he just didn't want his brother to know about you. it was almost worse to imagine that he thought you were something to be hidden.

so you'd swallow a breath that felt like a forbidden pill, stare at his outstretched hand with something like disgust.

"yeah, you too," you'd bite out, your hands remaining at your sides, hoping his empty hand felt awkward enough to hurt. "really nice."

so, as much as it had been you and quinn, starry-eyed in a back booth, as much as it had been you and quinn, tangled up in each other as your eyelids grew heavy with sleep, as much as it had been you and quinn, first -

it had also been you, embarrassed and ashamed, and quinn, expressionless and indifferent.

so, what did that night really matter, however life-altering you had thought it to be? he obviously didn't feel the same way. you obviously meant nothing to him.

you had thought that to be a very disappointing end to a chapter. you were ready to move on, but, of course, savannah and jack only grew closer. of course, your friend groups merged. of course, it seemed like you couldn't go more than a few days without an especially painful reminder of exactly how much you weren't wanted, exactly how mistaken you had been.

it had been several years now, and you'd gotten a little better at hiding your feelings, sure, but you wouldn't describe your relationship with quinn as civil. certainly not amicable.

you were both known to have an especially short temper when it came to the other, to become inexplicable hot-headed in their presence. still, no one, not even savannah, you assumed not even jack, knew exactly why. they just assumed you didn't get along. that you were just completely incompatible as people, probably.

now, you took a deep breath, putting the last of your clothes away, zipping up your suitcase and stowing it under your bed. you wouldn't let him ruin this trip for you, you decided in a moment. you would be kind, and lovely, and you'd enjoy the time with your best friends. everything was going to be fine. everything was going to be perfect.

this was the mindset you were carrying with you when you finally made to join everyone else on the deck for a welcome happy hour.

you quickly spotted your group, immediately locking eyes with your other best friend, lexi, who must have just arrived.

she squealed and pulled you in for a hug. "it's been too long," she whined, and you laughed.

"i missed you," you said, and you meant it. for the longest time, it had been you, savannah, and lexi, a trio for the majority of your time at university. guys came and went (for the most part), your circle expanded into friends from classes and clubs and sororities and such, but the three of you were inseparable.

it still felt weird that you didn't get to see them every day, with all of you at different places, some working, some in school. it felt weird that the real world still spun even if you three weren't cackling on the way into a lecture, whispering about lacrosse boy when he walked into a party, whining about midterms in the dining hall. it felt weird to grow up.

"i want to hear about school," you said as you pulled away from her embrace. "tell me everything."

"what, no hug for me, eh?"

you rolled your eyes, immediately recognizing that overconfident voice as jack's best friend.

"hello, nico," you said, sugary-sweet, mustering up a smile. "how's daddy's money treating you?" you didn't like nico, not really, found that he hadn't changed at all since school.

nico wasn't like quinn, though, he never took what you said in a heavy way. he just laughed, and his eyes shone with it. "business is thriving, thanks for asking," he said.

"so humble," came quinn's grumbly voice, somewhere on the line between light-hearted fun and genuine disapproval. you wondered briefly if nico had any more luck reading quinn than you did.

"oh, that's what they say," nico responded, running a hand through his longer dark hair. "the humblest around."

you caught up with lexi about medical school, learned it was somehow even more draining than she expected.

"i wouldn't be able to tell for a second," you assured her, gesturing to your face. "you look insanely well-rested. glowing, practically."

lexi waved you off, but she looked pleased. "don't lie," she chastised, "i wake up everyday and look like i got run over by a truck."

she told you about her classes, and her classmates, and her professors, and you listened intently, always interested to hear about situations you had no experience in.

"sounds hectic," you said, finally, blowing out a breath.

"eh, you know how it is," she responded with a shrug. just then, luke, jack's younger brother, arrived, looking especially disheveled, but you knew him well enough by now to understand that was just how he looked.

he was greeted with hugs and handshakes by everyone.

"you're so big, now," you said, almost teasingly, as you pulled him in for a hug.

he swatted at you, good-naturedly. "lay off, would you?" he said, but when he smiled it was genuine. "not a baby."

you knocked your hip against his, anyways. "happy you're here," you told him.

out of all of jack's groomsmen, you supposed luke was the clear frontrunner for your favorite. nico, the narcissistic playboy, was out of the running, and so was quinn, for obvious reasons.

even without those two, though, you'd developed a soft spot for the youngest of the hugheses. he was a couple of years your junior, but surprisingly mature and well-spoken. he was into football, like you were, too, and had invited you to join his fantasy league before he even knew you that well. now, years later, he came to you for girl advice and you thought of him as the younger brother you never had.

"me, too," luke responded, his eyes alight. when you looked away from him, however, you felt another gaze on your side like a blistering burn, were barely surprised to find quinn's rocky eyes on your side, somewhere between your hip and waist.

his attention sparked something dangerously flammable inside of you, an anger that felt like being coated in lighter fluid.

if quinn had been beautiful the day you'd met him, he was devastating, now, having aged in a subtle way that only enhanced his features, made his jaw sharper, cheekbones more prominent. his hair was a soft shag of brown, curling onto his forehead, at the nape of his neck, the tops of his ears. he'd filled out a bit, too, wider in the chest, softer in the middle. if you had to describe to someone your type, you figured you'd get maybe ten seconds in before realizing you were just describing quinn.

now, his eyes met yours in a clash of flame and ancient rock, immovable and disastrous.

coward, you seemed to say without words, mean, rude, coward.

and, as always, he seemed to say absolutely nothing.

you were being kind, though, you were being lovely, so you just rolled your eyes and made to join savannah and lexi as they chatted by the bar.

the sun set over the distant sky line, making the sea ripple purple and orange as music played from the deck, as more and more people seemed to gather, as drinks flowed easier and voices grew louder.

you caught up with luke about his last year of school, listened to nico talk about his last girlfriend (who he insisted was really, truly crazy, as he had claimed about the last girl, and the one before that), asked jack about how work was going and savannah how her cats were doing. you were including everyone, you were being a wonderful maid of honor, you were being kind and lovely, all while quinn remained oddly quiet, talking only when directly addressed, every now and then looking at you with an intensity that made you dizzy.

what are you doing? you wanted to scream at him, you're not allowed to look at me!

he didn't seem to particularly care about your unspoken wishes, anyways, though you supposed he never had. he just took small sips from his fruity cocktail, and you pretended not to notice how it made his pouty lips more pink, like he was wearing a shimmery gloss. you hated yourself for the way your stomach flipped at the sight.

"so, how's your week been, q?" luke asked him, eventually, taunting him with a smile. "awfully quiet over there. what're you hiding?"

and you shouldn't have done it, it was not very lovely and kind of you, but you gave a light scoff at this. because you knew just how good quinn was a hiding things. people, even.

of course, he noticed. he seemed to notice just about everything, when it came to you, ever the perceptive observer. it was something you'd adored about him, for a night.

"what?" quinn bit out, and he wasn't looking at luke, instead looking directly at you. "got something to say, doll?"

you felt your eye twitch, only just barely, because out of all of his mannerisms and actions that drove you absolutely crazy, this one might be your least favorite. how, after all this time, he still rarely called you anything but doll.

how, now, it was said with such condescending distaste, when it had once been 'm dyin' to kiss you, doll, murmured in a bedroom doorframe. when it had once been give me one more, doll, hm? be good for me, hot against your temple.

"nothing, quinn," you said, with a smile that felt more similar to baring teeth, his name some malicious hex. "don't worry about it."

there was a brief pause charged with meaning, his slate-like eyes boring into yours.

you were the first to look away, to look down at your hand before he finally answered luke's question, went into some noncommittal explanation about work.

eventually, somehow, the conversation veered towards wedding dates.

"wait," savannah said, pausing as if having trouble understanding. "you're telling me that out of all of you, both wedding parties, the only one with a plus-one is luke? and it's not even a date?"

"mackie still counts," luke said, shrugging. "no one said we weren't allowed to bring friends."

"regardless," savannah said, exasperated. "how did this happen?"

nico grinned. "not all of us can be so easily tied down, sav," he said with a wink, to which you and lexi groaned.

"oh, what?" nico retorted, looking at the two of you, "if it really matters, i'll bring a date. hell, i'll bring four dates."

you shook your head vigorously. "do not bring four dates. please do not bring four dates."

"do not make our wedding an episode of the bachelor, nico," savannah warned. "but you guys should bring someone!" her eyes grew wide with excitement. "you could even find someone on the boat!"

lexi whistled.

"do we really want a bunch of strangers at our wedding?" jack mused, joking.

"oh, hush," savannah said, laying a hand on his forearm.

he smiled. "you're right," he conceded, "not like this lot could find dates anyways."

the only people who seemed especially opposed to jack's judgement were nico and lexi.

you just shrugged. you didn't really want to bring a date to the wedding, because you didn't have a serious boyfriend, right now, and you didn't want to invite someone you weren't serious about. you could find a date, sure, it wouldn't be too hard, but that would just be another person to entertain for a night during which you were already going to be pulled in a million different directions.

"okay, so lex and nico are going to find dates," savannah said, then turned to you, "what about you?"

"i'm good, sav," you said, plainly, cordially, with a smile that she returned. you knew that she just wanted you to be happy, and that it probably hurt her to imagine you lonely.

"or you, quinn?" savannah continued.

you fixed your eyes on him, too, as did the rest of the table. as much as you maybe shouldn't have been, you were straining to hear his answer.

"yeah, didn't you say you were thinking of bringing someone? what was her name, again?" jack asked, snapping his fingers as if trying to summon his memory.

terrible envy bubbled through your veins, thick and green, at the mention of quinn wanting someone who wasn't you. at the reminder that he was fully capable of wanting someone, he just hadn't wanted you.

quinn's eyes flashed with something dangerous. "i never told you i was thinking of bringing someone," he told his brother, sounding almost annoyed, his tone sharp.

jack's half-smile told you he knew something you didn't. "my bad," he said, "must've forgotten."

quinn's full mouth twitched to the side, almost undetectable, but of course you noticed. he looked almost angry that jack had suggested that he bring a date. there was the faintest pink across his nose, too, as if he was almost embarrassed.

something heavy settled in your chest, made your throat tight, because you knew what it was like to be embarrassed in a group. to want something so adamantly and have it go the other way in front of your eyes.

as if pulled by some magnetic force, some power fueled by history and shed tears, quinn's eyes briefly met yours, like you were the calm in some hurricane, like you tethered him to the world. for a second, you remembered just what it felt like to be his. just how consuming it was.

but you weren't his, you reminded yourself. so, of course, the anger followed, along with a bloodthirsty self-loathing at your momentary protection of him, your fleeting feelings of sympathy.

you weren't his, and yet he was looking at you now like he was begging you to do something.

"you know what, sav?" you said, although you were looking right at quinn, "changed my mind. think i'll bring a date, actually."

it was quinn's turn to scoff, which had rage rolling in your head like high tide. "yeah, right," he said. "you haven't been with someone in years, doll."

you furrowed your brow, because that just wasn't true, flat out. did quinn actually think you hadn't been with guys since you'd had him?

lexi was the one to laugh. "what're you on about, quinn?" she said. "what planet have you been living on?"

"you think i call you up as soon as i scratch another notch in my bedpost?" you asked, incredulous. "course i've been with guys."

a million emotions rumbled through his eyes like a slow-building earthquake, which made realization spark in your head.

"unless," you started, "unless you haven't been with-"

"i'll bet that you don't end the weekend with a date, then," quinn said, cutting you off as you'd gotten dangerously close to saying something incriminating, something he didn't want others to know.

it took no convincing from you to agree to his bet, even if nico and luke were nudging you on. "you're on," you said, your voice lower than you anticipated.

he hummed, ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, cocked his head in a way that made your nerves spring to life. "and what do i get when i win?"

he said the words like he knew exactly how you'd take them. in a way that made everything else fade away, for a moment, made you forget your audience of friends, made the music lull to a halt in your ears, made the massive deck of this boat feel altogether too small.

"what do you want?" you asked, almost blushed at how rough your voice sounded, promptly cleared your throat again.

his heavy gaze dropped to your mouth, making warning sirens blare in your head. making you so, so angry.

"decide the terms later," jack said, obviously done with this topic, which really only concerned you and quinn, "deal or no deal?"

quinn extended a hand to you in answer, which you stared at for a second, suddenly delirious with deja vu. remembering when he had last went looking for a handshake.

this time, though, you took it, squeezed it so tight you hoped it hurt, although he didn't even wince, held eye contact with you the entire time.

"eager to lose, eh, doll?" he asked, his eyes shining.

"you know me," you said, then, "just so eager." knowing exactly how he would take it. in a way that had his eyes glazing over, just a bit, perhaps had phantom breaths of please, quinn, give me all of it echoing in his mind.

and so your weekend getaway began with a wager.

still, you didn't want your heightening anger towards quinn to take over your vacation, so, the following day, you went about your way as you had been planning on.

you ate breakfast with lexi, explored the boat with sav and luke, finally settled down to read by the pool in the late afternoon.

the sun was bright and big in the sky, so you untied the straps of your swimsuit, so as to avoid tan lines. time passed as you flipped pages, engrossed in your book, until you felt the heat on your body like a scratchy sweater.

at some point, you felt a figure next to you, a big body with a face you couldn't see until you brought a hand up to shield your eyes.

the man blocking the sun from you was a little jarring in his beauty, you realized. handsome in a very different way than what you were usually attracted to. he had curly, curly hair, almost red in the light, a symmetrical face, a prominent gap in his two front teeth that you had the sneaking suspicion he used to his advantage.

he had you smiling up at him, nonetheless. "can i help you, handsome?" you asked.

his mouth quirked at your words as his features settled into a theatrical expression. "you're sweet, princess, but i was actually hoping to help you."

you hummed, bent one knee up until the sole of your foot rested flat on your lounge chair. "were you, now?" maybe this whole finding a wedding date business was going to be even easier than you initially thought.

the handsome stranger squatted down until his hips rested back on his heels, until he was eye level with you. like he didn't want to look down at you. like you were even lovelier head on. he raised a wide hand to one side of his mouth, as if telling you some great secret at a cafeteria lunch table. "just wanted to warn you that your straps are untied," he whispered, gesturing with his other hand to his own shoulders. his smirk told you that he knew it was intentional.

you made no move to retie them, let out a small laugh. "my knight in shining armor, hm?"

his shoulders rose and fell in a telling chuckle. "either that or i just wanted an excuse to come over here," he said. "'m matthew."

"'m flattered, matthew," you said, then gave him your own name. "you don't seem like a guy who needs an excuse, though."

his smirk grew wide. "what do i seem like, then, princess?"

you tilted your head to the side, thought for a moment. "don't know," you admitted, "got the smile of a charmer, though, give you that."

matthew appeared about to respond, but was cut off by the approach of a figure to the other side of your chair, standing at full height, looking down at you and your new acquaintance.

a figure you'd know in the dark, a presence you'd sense while unconscious. quinn drew both of your attention, but said nothing. you pursed your lips.

"what's up, man?" said matthew, maybe a little unsure, in a tone that sort of felt like he was making fun of quinn. "all good?" he didn't push back up to his full height, which you found hilarious and endearing. how he didn't seem even the tiniest bit threatened by quinn, when it was so painfully obvious that he was trying so hard to appear threatening.

you peered up at him, found his blatant discomfort and indecision especially unsettling. "what do you want, quinn?" you asked, annoyance creeping into your voice like moss on a damp rock.

"you know this guy?" matthew said, his grin that of a class clown.

"do you know this guy, doll?" quinn retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, and you rolled your eyes, set your book down beside you.

"quinn, this is matthew," you said, gesturing between the two of them. "matthew, quinn."

quinn didn't move, but matthew's smile grew taunting as he extended his hand out for a handshake.

a handshake that quinn just stared at, briefly, did not make a move to reciprocate, his gaze so solid, relentlessly cold. you could have slapped him, if you didn't have an audience.

matthew just laughed, retracted his hand, finally stood up. "well, i guess i'll be seeing you around, princess," he said, looking right at you.

"until then, matthew," you responded, an easy smile on your face.

he gave you one last charismatic smile before looking to quinn again. "you've been a treat, quinn," he said, little more than a chuckle, raising a hand in goodbye before turning and walking away.

when he was out of ear shot, you looked up at quinn, ignoring the way the sun lit up the high points of his face. "so," you began, dangling one leg off of your chair, pulling the other up to your chest. "when did you officially lose your goddamn mind?"

he scrunched his mouth to the side as if tasting something sour. "haven't gone crazy," he said, basically a grumble, "thought he was bothering you."

you laughed, genuinely, from your stomach.

"what?" he said, and it was sharp, heavy.

"babe, is this guy bothering you?" you said, imitating a comically deep masculine voice before returning to your usual tone. you retied the straps of your swimsuit, not looking at him. "get real. since when do you give a fuck about me?"

he didn't answer, just shifted on his feet slightly, which made the muscles of his thighs tense. you could feel his anger building, looming like some poisonous cloud around the two of you. he was flushed, and you had a feeling it was some lethal combination of embarrassment and fury. it made his eyes almost glow, made his shoulders clench with strain.

"jesus, don't hurt yourself," you said, eyeing the tension that radiated from his body. "not a good look on you."

this made him intimidating, somehow, made the difference in height between the two of you feel substantial, significant. "really, doll?" he said, with a bite that you could taste. history made its stinging presence known between the two of you, made the air sizzle. "don't like me like this?"

you wanted to punch him the stomach, made him hunch over, bring him to your level so he didn't feel so high and mighty. who was he, now, to hint at your history? when he had denied it so grossly before?

you were not the one in the wrong here, you remembered, he was the one who had approached you.

"no," you said, through clenched teeth, "no, quinn, i don't like you jealous."

this seemed to set his anger loose, as you had expected it to, his fists now tight at his sides. "i am not jealous," he said, slowly, almost scarily. "maybe if you weren't showing yourself off like a-"

you stood up, then, your pulse in your ears, your heart in your throat. you laid a warning hand on his chest, the closest you'd been in a long time. "oh, you aren't really about to call me a slut, are you, quinn?" you warned, like a storm siren.

his gaze shot down to your hand before returning to your unwavering eyes again.

"are you?" you pressed, with the strength of practiced patience. he still said nothing, which made you want to pound your fists on his chest, get him to say something, anything. how tired and frustrated you were of his silence. "where do you get off playing tough-guy savior, anyways?" you continued. "you've got no say in who i talk to, just because you've been celibate, apparently, which is absolutely insane-"

"'m not playing anything," was his short response, which had you fuming.

"you're no tough guy, quinn," you said, "you're a coward."

your eyes widened when his smoldered, as he brought a hand up to your face, swiped his warm thumb across your jawline. you would have smacked his hand away, you swore it, but you were lost for a moment, drowning in the touch you'd craved for longer than you cared to admit. "and you're desperate, doll," he breathed, like some terrible caress, "where does that leave us?"

his words barreled through you like a battering ram, cruel and sadistic. because what were you most ashamed of, if not seeming desperate to his indifferent? what were you questioning most, if not where that left you?

it had been you and quinn, first. could you truly say it had ever been over?

he dropped his hand from your face, leaving you cold, lacking, all over again. leaving your breath coming out a little bit short, your lips slightly parted. because as much as his words cut through you like a dagger to the chest, he said them with such softness, such warmth.

making it so painfully clear in your mind just how much you still wanted him, even if he drove you mad. even if he was exactly the reason behind so many of your fears.

"i hate you," you said, but of course you didn't mean it.

"i hate you," he said, but of course he was lying.

your body and mind were still buzzing, practically alight, that night, when sav and jack decided your whole group should go out, try the ship's nightclub on for a few hours.

and you probably would have politely declined, in any other scenario. you didn't go out that much now, not like you did in school, at least. in recent history, you'd found yourself much more attracted to a night in on the couch than a bass-boosted speaker in your ear. however, you supposed, you wouldn't be able to really relax tonight, anyways, not when your blood felt hot in your body, when your fingertips felt as if they were laced with electrical currents.

you felt almost ill with energy, crazed with some awful mixture of shame and desire and annoyance and disgust.

and you sort of hated yourself for how practically demented quinn's touch made you feel, how deranged his undivided attention made you.

it was so, so unfair, and you wished it wouldn't be true. but it was, so you figured you might as well use this energy while you had it, might as well lean heavily into this version of yourself. this version of yourself, whose emotions were blown up, heightened to a magnificent level.

this you, who felt embarrassment like rosy handcuffs around her wrists, who felt want like a leaden crown, satisfaction like a bubbly drink, displeasure like a hand around your neck. who felt danger and challenge like some intoxicating drug.

it was this you who pulled on a tight, short dress, who spent a few more minutes than usual lining and glossing your lips. maybe it wasn't the most level-headed you'd ever been, sure, but you couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so utterly alive.

"holy shit," lexi said when she opened her door, found you waiting to walk down with her, "you look insane."

you smiled. "good insane or insane insane?"

lexi grabbed her small bag and shut the door behind her. "oh, please," she said, waving you off. "almost forgot that you're workin' with all that," she added, which made you laugh.

once the two of you made your way inside, you looked around for your friends, quickly spotted luke sitting at a table with sav and jack.

sav whistled at the two of you as you approached. "holy smokes," she said.

"oh, stop it," lexi teased, making to sit down next to her.

you just leaned on the side of luke's stool, knocked your shoulder into his. "past your bedtime, eh?" you joked.

he rolled his eyes, smiled. "what brings you out of your cave?" he mused. he knew how much it took for you to venture from your room.

you just shrugged. "what if i just wanted to see you?"

he gave a disbelieving shake of his head before tilting it up to look at you head on. "heard you and q had quite the blowout at the pool."

you narrowed your eyes. "wouldn't call it a blowout," you said, and you meant it, because you could have done so much worse. "who told you that, anyways?"

he scoffed. "who do you think?"

you scrunched up your face. you knew how close quinn and luke were, but, somehow, it still surprised you that he had told anyone about what had happened at the pool. it felt weird that, after refusing to acknowledge what had happened between you, he'd tell luke anything about you.

it made you wonder just how much he had disclosed, if luke knew much more than he was letting on.

"what did he tell you?" you asked, curiosity overtaking any of your discipline.

the youngest hughes just gave you a big grin, though, like he'd caught you in something. "i forget," he said, and you hit him lightly on the arm.

you turned your attention back to the table. "where's nico?" you asked, as he was the only one from the group you hadn't really seen that day. you didn't ask where quinn was, even though you really, really wanted to know. was he even here? did he stay in his room, like you had wanted to?

jack gestured vaguely. "haven't seen him since we got here."

"'s probably pretty busy," sav added, "i think the last time i saw him he was up to three wedding dates."

lexi groaned while you hid your face in luke's shoulder for a second.

you sighed, then pushed yourself out of your lean.

"where're you going?" luke asked you.

"to save the feminine population of this cruise ship from hurricane nico," you answered, before patting the top of his head and making for the bar.

the music was louder, away from the tables and closer to the dance floor, crowded with people in bold colors and daring cuts.

you leaned forward on the counter, raised a hand to catch the bartender's attention. the man with the platinum buzzcut nodded to you to signal that he'd be right there.

"how'd you escape your keeper?" a goofy voice said from beside you, and you recognized the confident tone before you even turned.

"good to see you again, matthew," you said, peering up at him with an easy smile. "and i have my ways."

"i don't doubt that, princess, i don't doubt that," he conceded, his grin revealing that gap between his front teeth.

"thanks for waiting," the bartender said, now in front of you two, adjusting his black bowtie. "to drink?"

"two of whatever she's having," matthew said.

"vodka soda, please," you clarified, opening your mouth to protest when matthew wouldn't let you pay.

"let me get this one, hm?" he asked, and he was so steady you knew he wouldn't budge.

you blew out a breath like you were annoyed, but the thought was sweet. "fine," you said, "just this once. thank you."

"anytime," was his immediately reply as the bartender dropped the two glasses in front of each of you.

"thank you," you said to the blonde, eyes searching for his name tag, "elias."

he gave a curt nod in response before being summoned by another patron.

you turned, now leaned your back against the bar counter, crossed an ankle over the other as you again looked at matthew.

"did i mention how beautiful you look?" he said, a lazy smirk on his face, telling you he'd used this line before. it brought a delighted flush to your cheeks, nonetheless.

"that one's a heater," you said, "bet it works on all the girls." you took a sip from your cold glass, found it strong and sharp.

"not all of 'em, apparently," he said, and you let out a laugh.

you chatted pleasantly with matthew for a while, your mission to find nico long forgotten.

fortunately, at some point, you were surprised to see nico himself approach the two of you where you stood, his gait as overconfident as his expression.

"who's this guy?" matthew whispered, his breath hot by your ear as he leaned down. you shivered, could feel his sly smile.

"a clown," you whispered back.

matthew hummed. "you seem to know a lot of those, eh, princess?"

and it shocked you, sort of, how part of you jumped to defend quinn. how part of you wanted to explain to matthew, however stupidly, that quinn wasn't a clown, he wasn't dumb, he wasn't like nico.

what did it matter if this almost stranger thought quinn was an idiot? hadn't he made a fool of himself just today?

"hey, nico," you said, when he was close enough. "meant to look for you." your side glance had you locking eyes with matthew again, warm and inviting. "got distracted."

"no worries at all, no worries at all," nico responded, "i've just been sent over by a certain quinn hughes to see what was going on here, but, as he should have known, i am no errand boy." he gave matthew a knowing look. "and you seem like a great guy." nico's mouth gave an impressed sort of scrunch. "good face, too."

"i like this guy much more," matthew said, elbowing you gently, although you were having a bit of a hard time focusing.

because you'd warned quinn about leaving you be, warned him that he had absolutely and completely forfeited any opinion to be had about your life. and yet, just hours later, apparently, he hadn't learned his lesson.

"where is he?" you bit out, and you had a feeling your smile looked menacing. at least menacing enough to make nico do a double take. "eh, over there," he said, motioning over to the dance floor.

sure enough, your eyes caught on quinn's broad figure, practically indistinguishable from the one close to him, the girl he was dancing with. you rolled your eyes, turned to matthew with sympathy.

he seemed to be anticipating your words, if his slightly disappointed sigh was anything to go by. "well, the keeper calls," he joked, and his easy-going smile made you feel almost sick.

because here was this lovely person, right in front of you, so obvious about his attraction to you. and yet, you were walking away from him. the very thought made anger thrum within you.

"i'm sorry," you said, and it was genuine.

matthew gave a one-shouldered shrug. "don't be," he said, "i'm lucky i even got to see you in that dress." he winked at you before turning to walk away.

you were silent for a moment, blinking.

nico, who'd you'd forgotten had even been there, blew out a breath. "hell," he said, shaking his head, "that guy was a smoke."

"how many dates are you at?" you said, your eyeline still firmly on quinn, on the beautiful blonde girl he was dancing with. you stirred your halfway empty drink.

nico shrugged. "lost track," he said, "why? wanna borrow one?"

"maybe later," you said, then pushed yourself from the counter and began to make your way across the room.

the walk felt much longer than it was, as if a chasm had opened up between you and quinn, jagged rocks lining the walls, some treacherous river running through your legs, drenching your heels.

the walk felt longer than it was, but then you were in front of quinn, and the beautiful girl.

you tapped her on the shoulder, first. "could you move to the side for a second, babe?" you asked, completely apologetic. "don't wanna ruin your dress."

her features scrunched in confusion, but she stepped to the side, as you'd asked. you shot her a grateful look before turning to face quinn, meeting his eye.

you were almost shocked to find warmth, there, so unlike the stony coldness you'd expected from him.

still, you just gave him a facetious smile, short, snarky, before tossing the remnants of your drink at him.

it hit him square in the face, better aimed than you could have hoped. liquid dripped from the strong slope of his nose, down his jaw, soaking his white button down near the collar.

the blonde gasped, brought a hand to her mouth in shock.

you turned briefly to her. "'m sorry for the interruption," you said, genuinely. "you look gorgeous."

as quinn ran a slow hand down his face, wiping alcohol from his forehead, cheeks, you hummed and began to walk away, your stride satisfied as you made for the exit.

you dropped your glass on a table, walked through the doorway, onto the deck of the ship, the darkness of the night, sudden quiet a welcomed change of pace.

you had only just taken a breath when you felt a grip on your wrist, firm but not painful.

"just fuck off, won't you, quinn?" you said, just about done for the night. he just pulled you aside, boxed you against the railing on the deck, the noise of the sea in harmony with the faded beat of the club's mix.

you were so, so, done. you hadn't really wanted to come out, anyways, and then, when you were finally having a good time, he had to go and ruin it, send nico over to check in on you, like you needed some kind of babysitter.

he scoffed, a sound that felt beautiful in your ears, somehow. "think you can just walk away, after a stunt like that?" he said the words like they meant something deeper than just their surface meaning, but you couldn't, for the life of you, figure it out.

you blew out a breath, met his gaze directly.

you probably should have known by now that if there was one word to describe quinn, it was unfair.

unfair, how, drenched in a drink you tossed at him, he still looked this pretty. his hair damp, evident that he had run his hands through it. his features almost enhanced by the liquid that shone on them, his shirt practically sheer, now, drawing attention to his broad chest, corded shoulders. unfair.

maybe you had been wrong. maybe you couldn't handle this weekend. you'd been able to escape him before, for years, always had an easy out during gatherings with friends, always had something else to focus on.

he was everywhere here. he was unavoidable. he was inside your head, whispering in your ear. he was a phantom grapefruit taste on your tongue.

here, you were basically back in his bed, two years ago, back in that bar booth. here, you were surrounded by him.

"you sent nico to spy on me," you said, each word pronounced perfectly clear. you clenched your fists tight as if to restrain them. "how many times do i need to tell you, quinn? who i fuck is none of your business!"

he let out a noise that was half-growl. "you wanted him?" he asked, low and loaded, so painfully so it made your stomach drop.

"what does it matter?" you said. "i can't even speak to someone on this boat, apparently, without you breathing down my neck!"

"it matters," was his reply, spoken so softly, with a cutting bite. "it matters, doll."

you narrowed your eyes, searched his face for some clue. droplets of liquid still clung to his lashes, making his gaze impossibly beautiful.

"it shouldn't," you said, careful. "i'm desperate, remember?" your eyes widened in false despair. "don't you remember, quinn?"

his gaze dropped momentarily to your mouth, hung there just long enough for you to notice. "i remember," he said, so gently it shocked you. like he wasn't just talking about today.

the sea air suddenly felt hot, despite the windy chill. you were acutely aware of how close he was to you, his arms on either side of your waist, boxing you against the railing, his bent knee just barely grazing yours. the warmth of him like a radiator, the smell of him overwhelming.

"enough with the overprotective act," you demanded, willing any shake from your voice. "it has to stop, quinn, i can't do it."

"you can't do it?" he asked, calculated, incredulous. "you can't do it?"

you let out an exasperated huff. "what are you saying?" you pleaded. "jesus, fuck, quinn, all you do is stare and stare and stare and say nothing!"

"what am i supposed to say?" he said, gesturing vaguely around. "what could i ever say to you?"

"maybe try something true!" you said. "give that a shot!" your volume was much too loud, and there were probably people around, but you didn't really care, couldn't even register their presence. as always, with him, no one else seemed to matter, to even exist.

you could feel his chest rise and fall against yours for a moment, a pause so thick it almost felt suffocating. "it hurts to look at you," he said, finally.

and it would have been mean, would have been some cheap shot at calling you ugly, if his voice hadn't broken halfway through. if it hadn't seemed to be the hurt that was really the point.

his arms at your sides felt like something scandalous.

"and yet all you do is stare," you said, almost drowsily. "must be doin' a whole lot of hurting, over there."

something that felt like truth rose and fell between the two of you, light as the salty breeze, dark as the deep water below.

"does it hurt, now?" you breathed, your face so close to his as you peered up at him through your lashes.

his exhale felt like a million words, all jumbled up, offered up to you on a silver platter. he looked almost haggard. "so much, doll," he practically whined, and you wanted to taste his confession on your tongue, wanted to know what his honesty felt like on your lips. if it would feel the same as it did those years ago, if it would feel better.

you raised a careful, delicate hand to his damp face, brushed your fingertips along his hairline, slowly, almost mesmerized. he looked so beautiful, then, the faint light of the deck in contrast with the night making his face angelic in a terrible sort of way. "tell me you hate me," you said, little more than a whisper.

he gave an almost undetectable shake of his head, a rogue lock of hair curling into his face. "i can't," he said, soft, pulled into a trance by your ghost of a touch.

his full lips were so close to yours, and you angled your head slightly to made room for him, wanted all of him just so badly-

"no!" came a loud protesting voice that you immediately recognized as savannah. "do not throw her overboard!"

the two of you bolted apart from each other, a few feet between you, now. your pulse was still a pounding thud in your head, though, your body a sack of candy conversation hearts in all of its deliriousness.

you supposed it would look fairly suspicious, quinn so close to you, his hands so close to you, against the railing of the ship. maybe it did look like he was going to toss you over the edge. you could have laughed at how ridiculous the reality was.

savannah now stood in front of the two of you. you couldn't look at quinn, deathly afraid of what you would find if you did.

"what the hell was that, in there?" savannah demanded, gesturing wildly to where she had come from. she fixed her eyes on you. "since when are you a drink-thrower?"

you mumbled something like since a few minutes ago, i guess.

she huffed, turned to quinn. "and i hear you're sending nico on errands to do your dirty work for you?"

quinn looked at his feet, shifted his weight slightly. "wouldn't call it dirty work," he grumbled.

your best friend took a deep breath. "i understand that you guys don't really get along," she said, evenly.

quinn's gaze shot to you for a second, but you didn't return his attentive stare. you have no idea, you wanted to tell savannah.

"and i guess i should have known better than to trap you guys on a boat for a weekend, but you're adults! and the wedding is in less than a week," she continued, not angry but obviously frustrated. "i'm the one who's supposed to have a meltdown on wedding day, okay? not you two."

"sorry, sav," you said, and you felt bad, really.

she waved her hand. "it's my fault, too," she said, "just, i don't know, sleep this off and tomorrow you'll be able to get off this boat. think we're docking for a few hours, or something."

you sighed, snuck one last look at quinn like a last bite of a shared dessert. evidence of emotion just barely hid under his casual mask, evidence of being affected by you.

"i'll do better, okay?" you said, just to savannah, as you passed her, pulled her in for a quick hug in apology. "i promise."

she hugged you back. "i know it's not just you," she whispered into you ear. "and i trust you."

you nodded, squeezed her a last time before making the trek back up to your room. you passed jack, waiting just off to the side, keeping an eye on savannah, presumably.

"goodnight," you said to him, giving him a feeble wave.

he offered you a smile. "don't tell him i said this," he whispered, "that was one of the best things i've seen in my life."

you rolled your eyes at him as he bid you a returning goodnight.

you spotted lexi, sitting at a table just outside of the club entrance, your eyes widening when you recognized the blonde in her lap as the girl quinn had been dancing with. you smiled, slightly. they looked lost in conversation. they looked good together.

as you turned the corner to the stairwell, you almost jumped, then brought a hand to your heart, let out an alarmed exhale before recognizing nico, making out with a girl against the stair railing in an almost violent way.

you tried to squeeze past the two of them, eventually giving him a light shove. "move, nico," you whisper-yelled at him.

when you finally got past him and up the stairs, you were only a few steps from your door, finally closing yourself back into your room, exhaling a heavy breath, slipping off your heels.

you didn't quite make it to your bed, instead opting to fold a leg underneath you on the floor, lean back against the side of the mattress.

you weren't really sure why you suddenly felt that undeniable pressure on your waterline, that heat at the edges of your face that signaled coming tears.

the breeze through your window was a calming chill as you ran your palms up and down your thighs, trying to bring your breathing back to normal.

it felt like your heart was ten times its normal size, like it was so heavy it was sinking down into your stomach, like an anchor into the ocean waves.

your mind was a flurried rainstorm of quinn's hand on your wrist, his arms by your sides, his chest through his button down. his parted lips, so close to yours, his eyes, so unlike the fixed iciness you'd grown used to from him.

tell me you hate me, you'd asked him, practically begged him, your tone a sinful sort of plea.

i can't, he'd answered, like your request for the truth was some binding promise, like your pure want was some altar-laid sacrifice.

you went to sleep that night jittery, dreamed of slate eyes and stolen touches, glances that meant something stark.

of course, the next day, the last full day of the cruise, your energy had not dissipated. it left you just as uncertain and edgy as ever, because now, you wondered what quinn would do when he saw you.

more probable than not, you knew, he would do nothing. he would probably pretend like, just last night, he hadn't been about to kiss you, like he hadn't confessed to something monumental.

he would probably revert right back to staring, staring, staring, and nothing more. he might even revert back to hating you, for all you knew.

and then there was the part of you, a scary, maybe delusional part of you, that believed that maybe last night had changed something. that maybe he would do more than just look, that maybe you'd do more than just fight, that maybe this time would be different.

oh, how you wanted it to be different.

it had been you and quinn, first. how you wanted it to be you and quinn, now.

at the very least, you thought, as you got ready to leave, you'd have a way out, this time. you were finally getting off the boat, going to the beach for a few hours.

if he got to be too much, you could just walk away, this time, like you had grown used to in the past.

it was this positive outlook that you clung to as you made your way off of the boat, meeting up with luke on the stairs.

"and where were you last night?" you asked, after greeting him, raising a questioning brow.

he gave a playful eye roll. "no where as exciting as you," he said, teasing. "almost getting tossed overboard, and all."

you smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "i did not almost get thrown overboard," you clarified, "i was having a civilized discussion with your brother."

luke hummed. "were you?" he asked, "not quite what i heard."

"when did you become such a gossip, hm?" you pestered, stepping off onto the dock, exhaling with slight relief at the feeling of solid ground underneath your feet.

he shrugged. "people tell me stuff," he said, simply. he didn't have to clarify who people were.

you narrowed your eyes. "how much stuff?"

luke met your gaze, and there was an understanding there that scared you. "enough," he said.

you looked at your feet as you stepped onto the sand, found it warm, calming. "oh, great," you mumbled. you could only imagine what quinn must have said about you. how desperate and deluded you were, how you had gotten so attached to him after a single night, how you'd suddenly grown so malicious towards him as soon as he didn't return your feelings. your head hung, just a bit, because you hated to think that luke, someone you trusted and cared about so much, would think this of you, just from hearing it from quinn. "shocked that you even hang out with me, then, honestly."

you could feel luke's gaze on you like the sun. he cleared his throat, making you look up at him. "think, uh," he began, scratching the back of his neck in a nervous sort of habit. "think maybe you should just talk to him."

you laughed, spotting savannah and jack setting up an umbrella further down the beach. "because that's worked so well for us," you joked, but your heart jumped in your throat. because, oh, how easy it felt to refer to yourself and quinn as an us.

luke just shrugged. "it's worked better than the alternative," he said, putting his towel down before making to help jack with beach chairs.

his words stuck with you, suspended in your mind, for a moment, because he was right. you realized, however painfully, that you would prefer a screaming match with quinn by the pool to silent staring across the room at a gathering with your friends.

you'd take an excruciating argument with him over feigned, false civility any day of the week.

there you stood, your feet in the sand, looking out at the water, and you finally understood that you'd take all of the ugly, all of the hurt, all of the cold, if only it'd give you all of him.

"uh, you good?" sav said, giving you a confused look as she registered your quiet stillness.

you shook yourself from your mind, smiled at her. "all good," you said, and it was true.

lexi joined with the blonde from the night before in tow, whom she announced as erin.

you gave erin a guilty smile when you introduced yourself. "sorry again about last night," you said.

erin waved you off. "don't worry about it," she said, "that was the most dramatic night out i've had in forever."

she set up her towel next to you and lexi, and you quickly found how easy she was to talk to.

nico ambled his way down, at some point, eyes hidden behind massive sunglasses, a baseball cap on his head, a giant hoodie on despite the heat.

jack laughed when he got close enough. "the feds onto you, or something?" he said, referring to nico's ridiculous getup.

nico's pretty face contorted into a scowl. "i'm never drinking again," was his rough reply as he sat down on a towel, practically hissing at the bright light of the sun.

"yeah, right," you laughed. "you said that last time."

"fuck off," nico grumbled, hanging his head between his bent legs.

"oh, don't be mean, nico," savannah said, "it's not our fault you can't hold your tequila."

luke's face scrunched up is distaste. "you were drinking tequila last night?" he asked, "when did you join delta gamma?"

nico made to protest, but you didn't hear it, not really, because you were distracted.

your attention had strayed to where quinn now stood, right beside luke's chair. his approach had been silent, practically stealthy, but he was here, and he was looking at you.

the conversation around you seemed to fade away, to dip down deep below the gentle waves that lapped at the shoreline.

it was still a shock to your system every time you saw him, even though you'd known each other for so long. maybe it was an even greater shock, now, because you weren't quite used to seeing so much of him, of getting so much of him, on back to back to back days.

after being practically starved of him, or at least of his true emotions, this weekend had felt like being drowned in him, held under the water by your throat until your vision swam and your chest was on the edge of exploding.

it didn't help that the way he looked, now, in broad daylight, was so brutally stunning that it stole your breath.

he looked almost weary, the shadows of his face defined and sharp, his jaw rough with stubble. maybe he'd tossed and turned all night, as you had? maybe he'd dreamed of you, too?

your languished gaze caught slowly on his bare arms, returned reluctantly back to his face. he appeared to be just barely on the cusp of, well, something, spurred on by your obvious attention, something alight in his eyes that made your stomach flip.

you felt your cheeks grow hot, bit your lip, slightly. when he was looking at you, like this, you could all but hear his firm rasp in your ear, feel his callused hand tug at your hair.

you looked away, down at your hands, afraid that your eyes were giving too much away, afraid that he could somehow tell exactly what you were thinking, exactly what memories his presence was bringing to mind.

everything felt overheated, and not just because of the sun.

time passed at an agonizing pace. hours during which you could sense when he was looking at you, could feel his stare like a bullet to the heart. during which you would occasionally look back, meet his heated, cryptic eyes, silently beg him to do something, to do anything.

but, for hours, he didn't, and you grew angrier, more fiery with every passing second.

of course he would do nothing, you tried to rationalize, this was quinn you were talking about. this was quinn, in front of all of his friends, so of course he would pretend like you were barely there.

the hurt of it all made you feel almost seasick, woozy and disbelieving, mentally grasping wildly for something to grab on to.

the hurt of him made you seasick, the whole of him made you lovesick, but what did it matter, you thought. at what point were you not just dizzy over him?

"i'm going for a walk," you said, abruptly, getting up and mumbling some affirmation when sav reminded you the boat was leaving soon, so you should hurry back.

the sand shifting under your feet, the pleasant chill of the water at your ankles, you wanted it to calm you down, you wanted your escape plan to calm you down, like it had so many times in the past.

that's what you'd said all weekend, wasn't it? that it had been so hard to be around quinn without a clear way out?

you wanted to scream, felt heat prick behind your eyes, because here you were, walking away, and it didn't feel any easier. you didn't feel any relief, any satisfaction.

he was back there, and you were here, and it didn't look like last night had changed anything, for him. it didn't look like you were as life-altering a person as he was, for you.

the thought made slow, hot tears finally, finally break through. you blinked hard as you continued to walk, the pressure in your head painful, scorching droplets hanging onto your throat before falling to the sand below.

you had no idea how long you had been walking, how long you'd been crying, but eventually, you looked up, and realized it was actually getting darker. the sun was much lower in the sky, the wind a bit quicker. clouds had began to creep in, making it grey and ominous.

great, you thought, rain on your impossibly long walk back was exactly what you needed.

you stilled, looked down at your feet, let out a deep, heavy breath, watched the water twist and pool around your ankles. maybe you could just stay like this forever. maybe your body would eventually decompose into the damp sand and smooth pebbles, turn into something beautiful.

"jesus, doll, there you are."

your head whipped back as you turned around, found a slightly out of breath quinn now in front of you. you blinked at him, your lips shut. was this some trick of the storm? what was he doing here? how dare he follow you?

your eyes didn't leave his, as you watched his gaze visibly soften so beautifully when he took in your face.

it must have been bad, you thought, evidence of crying for however long all over you. your cheeks must have been splotchy, your lashes clumped together, your lips puffy, eyes red.

this vision of you seemed to sober him, to make his heightened breathing cool down to something more composed.

he exhaled, braved a step closer to you, now only a foot apart. his gaze dripped down you in a way that had you wanting to just sink into the earth. "doll," he began, almost a warning, "you been crying?"

you didn't say anything, for a second, didn't indulge his obvious question with a response.

"what are you doing here?" you said, eventually, but it came out like a statement, a whisper, as you messily wiped your face with the back of your hand.

he had the gall to blink back at you, as if confused, that sorry softness still drenching his face, his posture. "you'd been gone for a while," he began, "the boat was leaving, and i just-"

"do you just want to fight, again?" you asked, your blood growing hotter with each second he was here, so close to you. you hated how wobbly your voice sounded, how resigned you already seemed to be. you peered up at him, felt your heart crack in two. "do you know your lines, yet, quinn?"

"i don't want to fight," he said, and conflict burned bright across his gaze, indecision.

"should i start or you?" you pressed, ignoring his admission, "how many times do i have to make a fool of myself before i finally stop expecting you to act like i matter?"

his breath was sharp in silence. the wind whipped your hair around your face, sticking to your tear-stained cheeks.

"of course you matter," he said, almost incredulous, like the whole idea of thinking otherwise was ridiculous.

your laugh was bitter, mean. "oh, of course," you bit out. "of course, right? how could i not be able to tell? you say you don't hate me, but you won't even talk to me in front of our friends," you swung you arms about in gesture. "jesus fuck, quinn, you almost kissed me, last night, and today it's right back to whatever bullshit we've been pulling for the last two years." you looked away from him, so overwhelmed with emotion. "it wasn't me who ruined this whole thing."

"you think i ruined it?" something equally terrifying and lovely melted across his eyes.

you scoffed. "it wasn't me who pretended like we'd never met," you snarked. you could almost sense a well of feeling rumbling through him like a cresting wave.

"you left!" he finally rasped, the most emotion you'd seen from him, maybe ever, his voice echoing in your head as the wind continued its assault, as small raindrops began to fall. "you left, doll, okay? i thought that night was special, but i woke up alone," he said, and it was so gravelly, sad, you felt it in your teeth.

you blinked, watched his chest rise and fall in heaving breaths. how could that be true? it dawned on you that you barely remembered much of what you did that morning, having focused so intently, for so long, on him. was it possible this whole thing was a misunderstanding?

"so you pretend not to know me?" you pressed, rain cold on your legs, your face, an icy contrast to the hot tears that had stopped flowing.

he gave a resigned gesture, blew out a breath. "i was embarrassed!" he said, "i am embarrassed, okay, doll? it's fucking embarrassing to be so into someone and then have them leave without saying goodbye, alright?"

your split heart thumped despite its brittle ache. there was a pause as you both registered just what the other had just admitted to.

both of you were soaked, now, rain dripping down your faces, but you didn't feel cold. you felt as if every inch of your skin was on fire, like your heart was trying to claw its way out of your chest.

you didn't know what to say. he had laid all his cards on the table, right in front of you, given you the honesty you'd been begging him for.

"and, you know, you wanted to kiss me, too, last night," quinn said, finally, defensive, hot, a thermometer approaching the highest temperature. as if the fact made it easier on him, somehow, as if it was a thread tying him to the earth, keeping him from floating away. "it wasn't just me."

you groaned through clenched teeth, a guttural sound. "of course i did! of course i want to kiss you!" you almost yelled, laying a tight fist on his solid chest, just barely holding back from slamming it into him.

his eyes were a forest fire, then, as your choice of words registered, a pause heavier than rock between you.

"wanted or want, doll?" he asked, and it was a breath, a whine, a plea as he allowed himself to wrap a heavy arm around your waist, pull you closer to him, until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. the closest he'd been, dizzyingly close, like a dream.

you realized your mistake even in your dazed state, how he'd said you'd wanted to kiss him the night before. how you said you want to.

you could have easily laughed him off, said it was a tenses slip-up. you unfurled your fist, instead, laid your palm flat against his chest, perhaps imagined his heart beating in your grip.

he had been so honest with you, after all, had finally told you the truth. the least you could do was return the favor.

"want," you all but whispered, gazing up at him through raindrops and vulnerability.

what was and what could be melted away in a single moment.

he was a blur of relief and desperate motion. "thank fuck," was his murmured groan as he took the side of your face in a rough hand and guided your lips to his in a kiss that felt like a feat of nature one million times more impressive than the storm that blew around you.

it had been years of countless petty fights and cruel misunderstandings, of bitter jealousy and longing gazes, of deifying the last time you'd had quinn, like this. and yet, still, it was so much better than you remembered. he was.

the way he clutched at your hip like he couldn't bear to let you go, not anymore, not this time. the way his hand on your face was so firm, but so gentle. that undeniable faint grapefruit taste, so completely him.

how you melted into his chest, wrapped your arms around his neck, just wanting him closer, closer, just wanting him so close that you'd never be apart again.

you whimpered against his mouth when his teeth pulled lightly at your bottom lip, like some punishment for all you'd put him though. you just rooted your hand in his hair, now soaking wet, tugged at the curls near his neck, in your own kind of retaliation, until he gave a choked moan of his own.

that's for what you did to me, the soft sensation of pain screamed at both of you.

but his chapped lips moved with such intention against yours, like he wanted to swallow down all of the tears you'd cried over him. your body against his felt so right, so warm and comfortable even in the wet and cold weather.

but this is for what you are to me, was the ultimate response, communicated wordlessly through your kiss, through his.

at some point, you both pulled away, only just slightly, your forehead leaning against his as you both caught your breath, so elevated. his stony eyes were so molten, so clear and telling, as he traced his thumb down your jaw, finally wrapped both arms around your back and clasped his hands.

the silence was so beautiful, for a while.

"did the boat really leave?" you asked, dazed, finally, your voice low, husky.

quinn just nodded. "jack said they'll reimburse us for the night if we stay at the inn downtown," he explained, looking around to locate the road, the civilization that existed outside of your perfect bubble. his eyes found you again, something like mirth hidden in there, somewhere. "probably should get out of the rain."

your swollen mouth quirked up in a half-smile as you nodded your agreement, let him hold your hand in his as you made the short walk to the inn jack had been referring to.

you checked in together, ignoring a slightly confused look from the person at the desk, probably at the fault of your rain-drenched appearances. quinn made to grab some overnight necessities at the supermarket next door, kindly letting you take a warm shower while he did so.

when you opened the door to your room, you quickly realized that there was only one bed to share between the two of you. your stomach rolled at the thought, at the pressure that would exist, or not exist, when he returned. at the question of how far you were going to take this. your heart hurt at just how far you'd take it, take him, if he'd let you.

the thought vibrated through you as you let the warm water wash away the day's wear from your skin, eventually wrapping yourself up in a towel.

you hadn't realized how late it was, the quick storm messing with your conception of passing time. it was almost nine by the time quinn got back.

he closed the door behind himself, and the clicking noise that followed felt like something serious as he turned to face you, set the bag of things he had gotten on the dresser.

he cleared his throat as his gaze caught haphazardly on your bare shoulders, the slope of your neck, then finally registering the bed that you were sitting on, the singularity of it. he flushed down to his collar, making butterflies flutter to life in your chest.

he eventually averted his gaze enough to maintain a glimpse of dignity, opening the bathroom door. "got some stuff for you in there, doll," he called, gently, over his shoulder before he shut the door behind him, seemingly to take a shower himself.

you tried not to blush, because you were too old for that, too mature. you exhaled, tried to convince yourself that you would be fine no matter what happened, tonight. you'd kissed, sure, and there seemed to be an air of lightness, of understanding between you, but that didn't necessarily mean you were entirely past all of your issues. that didn't mean quinn wanted to move as fast as you did.

you distracted yourself by going through the bag on the dresser, trying to put together some semblance of your nighttime routine. the clothing options, understandably, must not have been plentiful. you smiled, laughed lightly as you pulled out the tshirt he'd gotten for you to change into, which was one of those touristy ones that read the person who bought me this shirt loves me very much!

and it was obviously because there had been no other options, but a piece of you clung to the sentiment, dug your nails into the flesh of it so hard it began to bleed.

regardless, you got ready to go to sleep, pretended to ignore when you heard the shower head turn off, the bathroom door eventually open, averted your gaze and forced away your blush upon quinn's reappearance.

the air of the room felt almost metallic, tangible, like it was rattling around the space instead of flowing.

you knew it was partially due to the way he looked, now, damp and flushed from the warm water, his chest bare and broad, a towel slung low on his hips. you swallowed, looked up at the ceiling, as if there was something very interesting up there. as if there was anything more captivating to you than him.

he pulled on the cheap clothes he'd gotten for himself, went through the motions of his own little routine, all while you pretended to be on your phone, scrolling through apps but not retaining even a bit of information.

"good if i turn the light out?" he eventually asked, soft, to which you nodded, consenting to the darkness that followed, the rustling of comforters and sheets as he joined you on the bed.

you set your phone down, tried to close your eyes, but you couldn't relax, not with him just so, so close, not with so much that you still wanted to do. not with years of complete lack weighing on you, not with the memory of his lips on yours so beautifully fresh in your mind.

you were turned away from him, a bit of space between you, but you could somehow feel that he was awake, too, that he was just as aware of the energy and expectation that coated the two of you like a watery film.

the texture of the inn's cheap sheets felt grating and terrible against your hot skin, made you restless, rubbing your legs together against the other slowly, fussing with your pillow, tediously careful to not make contact with him.

"doll," was quinn's inevitable comment, more of a warning, a statement, spoken low and rough, rumbling through you.

you didn't turn to face him, but stilled. "sorry," you mumbled, your cheeks warm.

"what's wrong?" you could basically feel the words on your back, the heat from his breath, his body.

you exhaled, still refusing to face him head-on, knew you'd be done for if you did. "nothing's wrong," you whispered.

he hummed, almost like this was amusing to him. "can feel you thinkin' from here," he said, soft. "tell me."

the pause before you spoke was solid, weighted. "just don't want to go back what we were before," you said, and it was the tone of a beggar, so honest in want. "just want this time to be different."

then he reached his arms out, wrapped them around your middle, pulled you back against his soft frame. you swore you must have exhaled a thousand anxieties as you melted into him, shifted your hips back against him.

"i want that, too," he admitted, and you could barely stop your smile as you finally turned to face him, undeniably beautiful even in the darkness.

"really?" you asked, not caring for a second how pathetic it sounded, how glutted with hope, almost childlike.

you felt his nod more than saw it as his grip around you tightened, his hands firmly grasping the flesh of your hips as you reached up, traced your fingers along the edge of his jaw.

"i'm sorry i left," you breathed, and you could feel his chest contract at your apology. "i never wanted to hurt you."

"i'm sorry, too," he said, "'m sorry i acted like you didn't matter to me, doll." his tone dripped with meaning. "'m sorry i lied."

your mouth quirked. "done a lot of lying, haven't we?" you mused. it was honestly impressive, how long you'd both kept up the charade.

he mumbled some affirmation that you felt against your forehead, the heat of it making you rub your calves together, again. "still nervous?" he asked.

you peered up at him. "not nervous," you clarified, "i just-"

you exhaled, lowered your gaze, almost stumbled over your words, because how could you tell him exactly what you thought?

how could you say all i've wanted for years is for you to touch me like you did that night?

somehow, maybe because he was feeling something similar, he seemed to know exactly where your head was, exactly the dilemma that existed in your mind.

"ask me," he said, hard, firm, "ask me, doll. know i like you desperate."

you whimpered, because his words could have been a taunt, had been a taunt before, but not this time.

because you were desperate, only for him. and he wanted you anyways.

"i need you, quinn," you whined, gathering his shirt in a clenched fist, "fuck, i need you so bad."

that was enough, though you supposed the truth had always been enough, for the two of you.

it was enough for his lips to crash against yours for the second time, that night, this time so soft, no longer fueled by anger or revenge but by something lovelier, slow burning, something you felt in your feet.

your lips parted almost immediately in a soft moan, making space for him as his hand braced the back of your neck, holding you tight as he shifted you so that he was on top of you, the weight and solidity of him almost oppressive, if not exactly what you'd been craving for so long.

he kissed you hard, adoring, like he wanted the outline of your mouth imprinted on his forever, as his other hand traced down the side of your body, eventually stilling to push your searching hips into the mattress.

"be good, doll," he murmured against your jaw, leaving messy kisses down your neck that had your throat feeling tight.

"can't," you whined, grasping for the curls at the nape of his neck, lifting your hips again to try to get some kind of friction against his lap. "can't, baby, been waiting so long." you tugged at his hair as his hand rested heavily on your inner thigh. "been wantin' you forever."

he let out a groan, finally moved his broad hand to tug your clothes aside, run his fingers through your folds. "yeah?" you could feel him smile against your neck as your breathing picked up, as he just barely grazed your clit, making you squirm. "been thinkin' 'bout me?" he asked. "'bout the last time i fucked you?"

you whimpered, nodded feverishly, because you had been thinking about it. a day rarely went by that you didn't think about it. it felt like something mythical that it didn't have to be just a memory anymore, that he didn't have to be your haunted house. that he could be here, with you, like this.

he pushed a thick finger into you, urging a strained sound from your throat. "'s okay," he cooed, watching you adjust to the pressure, the sensation.

he began a steady pace, adding another finger, making the slick sound of you seem to echo off the thin walls of the inn, making you wonder briefly if there was someone staying in the room next door. such a concern was quickly overwhelmed, though, as you got used to the stretch of his fingers, began to hunger for something else.

"know 've been dreamin' 'bout you, don't you?" he asked, moving his fingers faster, "fuck, got me all worked up, all those times, doll." his smirk grew arrogant. "so mean of you."

you clutched at his tense forearm. "''m sorry, quinn," you begged, rough and wild, "please, baby, please fuck me."

he slowed his pace, let you paw at his clothes before helping move them out of the way. "ask so pretty for me," he praised, spitting into his hand, pumping himself up and down, so hard and hot against you as he lined himself up, his voice dipping down even lower, somehow, like he was speaking only to himself, as if in a dream. "been dyin' to fuck you."

you whined when he began to push into you, the stretch dizzying, making your vision swim, your chest tighten. you grabbed a fistful of a sheet with one hand, the other arm grasping for him, eventually looping around his neck, your nails digging into the tense muscles of his shoulders.

his exhale was a shudder, one you felt so deeply, so intimately, one that told you that he was feeling a similar way to you - like you were being pulled between memory and reality, what was and what would be.

the pressure felt impossible as he bottomed out, let you adjust to him. "you're, fuck," you bit out, squeezing your eyes shut, "'re bigger than i remember."

someone else probably would have smirked, said something self-satisfying, but he didn't, seemingly too lost in the feeling of you around him, of having you, like this. "open your eyes, doll," he said, strained.

you gave a slight shake of your head in protest, knowing exactly what your refusal would do to him, knowing exactly the roughness it would bring out as he began to fuck into you, slow and deep, so overwhelming and perfect you could have cried.

"don't be a brat," he ordered.

a greedy smile fell across your lips when you felt his warm palm on your throat, his hand squeezing just barely, just enough feel him, everywhere. you opened your eyes, met his dark gaze, felt yourself clench down so tightly around him.

his rhythm grew brutal. "still like that, do you, doll?" he groaned, to which you whined at the insinuation that he remembered every detail of that night the way you did. that he had remembered what you liked and didn't like so vividly, even now.

"more, baby," you pleaded, feeling your head grow fuzzy with pleasure, that pressure inside of you so extreme, heat bursting through your waterline like you were about to cry. "fuck, quinn, need you harder."

"yeah?" he rasped, releasing your neck and bringing his hands down to tease your clit, making your back arch up off of the mattress, your hips jolting. "'f you needed a good fuck, doll, should've just asked."

you whimpered at his words, so cruel, but they pushed you impossibly closer, regardless, as he placed a wide palm on your lower stomach, intensifying the sensation. "i needed it," you babbled, feeling the wet feeling of hot tears on your cheeks but not really registering anything besides him, "needed your cock, baby."

he groaned, looked up for a second as if praying. maybe he was. maybe this was something worth praying for. "can feel you close, doll," he said, his thrusts growing wild, his face flushed with exertion, "give me it, hm?"

"'m gonna cum," you breathed, not recognizing your husk of a voice as you rooted your hand in his hair.

"cum on my cock," he said, a plea, "fuck, doll, been so perfect for me, waited so good."

you came apart at his words, your vision growing dimmer even in darkness, your thighs tensing as you felt your high trigger his own orgasm, warm and wet, his rough groan louder than even the storm-heightening waves outside, somehow more powerful.

his heavy body collapsed atop yours, both of you damp with sweat, your hair sticking to your tear-stained face, his soft curls to the back of his neck. you could feel every exhale against your chest, every twitch of his muscles in your bones.

at some point, he rolled off of you, pulled you against him, so, so tight, like letting you go would be something unforgivable. his arms around you felt like a million apologies, like something solid underneath you, finally, after being seasick and dizzy for so, so long.

he traced a drowsy thumb under your eyes, collecting the remnants of tears you'd barely noticed you'd shed.

"that good, eh?" he rasped, and you could hear his smile.

you rolled your eyes, couldn't stop your own grin as you playfully slapped him on the chest, relished in his low laugh against your hand, into your hair. "hey, can i ask you something?" you said, propping yourself up on your elbow.

"'course," he said, and that alone felt like something too lovely to be true.

"will you be my date to the wedding?" you asked, and your smile grew wider at his obvious conflict of interest. "even though it means you'll lose our bet?"

he groaned, rubbed a hand over his face. "fine," he said, his eyes flashing in the dark, "but only 'cause you look so pretty like this."

you gave a light noise of excitement in celebration, leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. "and for my prize i choose," you said, trailing off, thinking, tapping a finger to your mouth in contemplation before pointing it at quinn. "you."

his gentle smile was something surreal as he pulled you even closer to him, your cheek against his chest. "done," he breathed, and when he pressed his lips to the top of your head, it was something right.

when you finally reconvened with your friends the next day at the port, savannah approached you first, pulling you in for a hug.

"i'm so sorry," she said, "i wanted to stay and wait for you, but quinn said he was going to go by himself, and then luke said i shouldn't-"

"it's okay," you said, "it all worked out. we're here now, safe and sound."

savannah's brow quirked. "you seem awfully chipper," she observed, taking a step back as if to get the full picture.

you smiled at her, and you could feel quinn smile too, next to you, your stomach flipping when he looped a hand around your waist and pulled you to him, his grip strong and sure.

sav's eyes went wide, lexi laughed. nico whispered something to jack, luke gave an exaggerated fist pump.

"well," savannah said, "took you long enough, jesus."

"wait," you said, slowly, "you knew?"

she waved you off. "of course i knew, i'm your best friend."

you gestured around to the group. "who else knew?"

lexi raised her hand as if in a classroom. you nodded, invited her to speak up. "like knew that you guys fucked a couple years ago?" she clarified, "or knew that you guys secretly were super obsessed with each other?"

"because the answer to both of those questions is yes," nico piped up from the back.

quinn was silent, his low laugh against your neck as he clasped his arms around your front, pulled you back against him.

you turned your neck to look up at him. "did you tell them?" you asked.

"i told someone who probably told them," he mused.

you fixed your gaze on luke. "you absolute drama queen," you scolded, though you were smiling.

luke put his hands up in the air in surrender. "not my fault," he said, "we would have figured it out, anyways. not like you two were doing a good job of hiding anything."

"he's got a point," quinn whispered just behind your ear.

you sighed. "fine," you conceded. "i forgive you. and i forgive all of you for abandoning me in some random seaside town."

nico huffed. "yeah, really slummin' it, eh?" he asked, "you were at a bed and breakfast for a night with your pretty-much boyfriend. relax."

quinn pinched your hip, which made you smile. "so, where are we dropping nico off?" you asked, "might i suggest a deserted island?"

"finally gets the guy she wants and suddenly she's got jokes," nico muttered.

you felt quinn smile against your neck, and you smiled, too.

the wedding, the next weekend, was exactly the beautiful occasion you knew it would be, with only the most predictable of issues and the most simple of solutions.

you walked down the aisle with quinn, whose touch on your waist lingered right before you split apart to stand on opposite sides of the altar. when you both stilled, you shared a soft smile that felt like home.

lexi walked next, arm and arm with nico. erin was somewhere in the pews, as her and lex had really hit it off, and you were pretty sure about four girls here were under the impression that they were nico's one and only date.

luke walked by himself, a ring-bearer and flower-girl, of sorts, his tie a little too loose, his suit jacket too wide in the shoulders. his friend-date, mackie, you remembered, gave an emphatic cheer when luke tripped over the carpeted aisle, stumbling on his feet.

finally, sav walked down, looking just so beautiful, alight and glowing with the sort of beauty that comes with being a kind person surrounded by those you love.

it was a beautiful ceremony.

the reception was distinct in its energy, heightened by an open bar and big dance floor.

you danced with your best friends, smiled as you watched jack and sav enjoy dances together, laughed as nico tried to juggle his several dates.

"might not have been the best idea, eh?" you asked him, once, when he passed you and luke on the dance floor.

he made a pft sound, waved you off. "i can handle it," he said, his eyes suddenly filling with alarm, "but if you see the redhead, warn me."

you danced goofily with luke for a bit, giggling at his awkward moves, mimicking them in an exaggerated way.

when the songs grew slower, lazily, you felt a hand on the small of your back that you'd know anywhere, that you'd known even in absence.

"mind if i cut in, lukey?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes at his funny wording, but luke complied with a smile, and then it was the two of you, quinn's hands around your waist, yours looped around his neck, your fingers playing softly with his hair.

"you look really pretty, tonight," you said to him, unable to hide your smile, and it was true. his unruly hair, sharp features, full lips, it was distracting. that, combined with his pressed pants and the fact that a few buttons had come undone from his shirt over the course of the night. "everyone's jealous of me, i bet."

you'd tell him a thousand times to see the way his gaze softened, the way a faint pink blush bloomed across the bridge of his nose. "thank you, doll," he said, genuineness evident in his voice, soft. "'re too good to me, yeah?"

you laughed, at this, felt it light up your face. "makin' up for lost time," you teased.

he pulled you so close to him, then, until his embrace was basically a swaying hug, a tired excuse for a dance. "got all the time in the world," he said, low, only for you, against your temple, and it felt like rebuilding a world from devastation. it felt like beginning, like living. it felt like him.

it had been you and quinn, first. it had been you and quinn, the coward and the fool, in the middle, however violently.

and, finally, it was you and quinn, now. now, and forever.

fin.

768 notes · View notes

madschiavelique · 9 months

Note

was a bit hesitant to ask this but thoughts on how Miguel would feel if reader was vv self conscious abt their body/said anything negative abt their appearance..? (talking abt this as someone who's also self conscious abt their body cuz i need to know how he would react/what he would say to the reader tbh 😭)

AAAAAAA BESTIE I FEEL YOU !! I'm part of the self conscious about their body gang - i just had to write more than just a thought on this<3

when it comes to self consciousness about my body, there's always one line from the song Paradis by Orelsan (french rapper), that says "Je comprends pas pourquoi tu t'inquiètes quand tu prends du poids. Pour moi, c'est ça de pris, ça fait toujours plus de toi." which i used in this text (clue : it'll be in italic)

summary : miguel reassures a self conscious reader on their body content warnings : comfort, fluff, miguel being a worshipper of you, genderneutral!reader, no use of Y/N word count : 739 tag list : @fandom-ash

Miguel is a man who notices details, all the more so when those details are related to you. He noticed how you looked at yourself in the mirror from time to time, how you sometimes stood on your tiptoes when you were sitting to make your thighs look less large, how some days, even when it was hot, you wore a sweater covering you completely.

You were used to wearing baggy clothes, oversized sweaters and t-shirts, baggy pants, nothing that showed too much of your curves.

He'd noticed how you'd changed your diet lately, and how the portions you allowed yourself were... far too small for a normal meal.

You were depriving yourself of your favorite snacks, and even when Miguel offered you some, you begrudgingly refused. He could see the pain in your eyes, and he couldn't understand.

Then one day, standing in front of the mirror in your underwear, you started to cry. Miguel came running straight to you, taking you in his arms as you wept silently, little jolts shaking your body.

He stroked your back and hair gently, letting the sobs take their place as you sniffled against his shoulder.

"Hey hey hey," his voice was low, as if he felt that a word or a gesture a little too strong could break you into a thousand pieces, "nena, what's wrong?" he asked, stepping back.

He wiped your tear-streaked cheeks, your eyes were reddened and your lips bulged with heartache.

"I hate my body."

His heart cracked, and he came to take you in his arms again. So that was the reason for all this, for your restrictions, for all these choices that were doing you more harm than good. He couldn't understand how you could think such a thing, because he worshipped you like the goddess or god or deity you truly were.

"I wish I just looked different," you murmured against him.

"Why?" he asked, pulling away from you again to cup your face.

"Because, I look ugly, I feel ugly..." you sighed, your brow furrowing as hot tears rolled down your cheeks.

His lips were parted, he couldn't understand how it was possible for you to feel this way, to think this way about yourself. He found you so beautiful that the very thought of you thinking that way seemed almost impossible.

"I'm not pretty enough to be with you. There are so many prettier girls and boys than me-" you began, but he cut you off, not even letting you finish your sentence.

"Don't ever say that again," he said, his tone serious and almost warning.

He looked at you, sorry and almost angry. Because he was wondering who he was going to have to correct (annihilate) for having succeeded in making you think you weren't beautiful.

"Come here," he said, lifting you with ease to rest you on the sink while you were still wiping your cheeks. "Listen to me: Your body is not the reason I love you. I've fallen in love with your soul, your qualities and your flaws... even if I'm still trying to find the flaws."

You blew out a quick laugh from your nose, a tear running down your cheek as he brushed it away.

"It doesn't make you a failure, or undesirable, or ugly not to have the body of a celebrity on the cover of a magazine." he said softly as he kissed your cheek, his hand gently caressing your thigh. "Why should you worry about gaining weight?"

"Because it makes me ugly." you murmured, but he gripped your chin between his fingers so your eyes observed the truth in his.

"No, it doesn't make you ugly," he assured. "Even if you do gain weight, for me it's a given, because it always gives me more of you."

Your chin trembled slightly, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

"No matter how long it takes, I'll make you love yourself," he confirmed. "I don't care what you look like, I'll still love you."

You smiled, tears still gently flowing, Miguel coming to place both his hands on your cheeks to clear them. You let out a little laugh:

"Even if I was a worm?" you joked.

He smiled, sighing softly.

"Yes, even if you were a worm." he laughed, kissing your forehead before hugging you again.

"Lucky worm." you whispered, wrapping your arms around his back.

"Lucky me." he whispered against your hair, stroking it gently.

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tojiwrd · 9 months

Text

4: fate is fickle ; gojo satoru

pairing gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary when satoru breaks off your engagement, you understand and accept it. but when he marries someone else, you don't understand because he didn't want to be tied down.

content warnings family problems, bad, sad, emotional infidelity, dangerously short chapter im sorry getting you ready for the next one <;33 flashback flashback y did satoru end it with u??

word count 1.3k

a/n i'll beat both of them up i promise

send thoughts ↞ prev next ↠ to be added to taglist

People said promising yourself to someone you love was euphoric; it was a feeling you couldn’t achieve through any other form of happiness or drugs. Satoru believed that because when he asked you to marry him and you said yes, he felt as though he could rearrange and hang every star in the sky to spell your names for the rest of eternity. It was electric, the feeling, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

But Satoru wasn’t somebody who was ever in the midst of two lines; if he was happy, he was so fucking happy, and if he was sad, he was so fucking sad.

Growing up in his home hadn’t taught him many things, but he’d come out of it with two lessons he’d always abide by:

Never, ever make promises you can’t keep.

If you can go against Gojo Takayashi’s wishes, do it.

He knew that he should wait to tell his parents about his engagement with you until you were with him, which is why he didn’t let it slip during the first dinner he had with his parents since he put a ring on your finger. When his father said he’d invited a guest over, Satoru felt more at ease to keep his mouth shut because, even though his parents were not his favorite people, he was itching to see their reaction. The little boy that lived somewhere in the abyss of his mind expected them to pop champagne, for his mother to immediately call each and every one of the people she knew to tell them the good news, for his father to pat him on the back with a gleeful smile that made him feel like he’d at least done one thing to make him proud.

And, even though his second rule was to always strive to go against his father, he felt it would be some sort of a twisted poetic number for his father to be proud of him for loving you. For you loving him back.

Kimura Hana was pleasant, and her parents even more so. Despite that, both children on the dinner table that night had a hard time trying to entertain themselves with the dull conversation. Their fathers droned on about their next upcoming business ventures, constantly toasting to the point they’d made a toast to the art of toasting, claiming that it was the best excuse for people to down more alcohol with good intention.

Hana kicked his leg underneath the table from beside him and Satoru, Y/N-loving, elated-over-his-engagement-in-private Satoru, almost sent her a glare for being so close to him. But he covered it when he noticed a small napkin she passed his way, a small giggle leaving her lips.

He opened it, and there he read, in pretty and small handwriting with red ink:

this is sooooo boring.

He looked around and patted his pockets subtly when her lithe fingers reached out, right above his lap, and offered him a pen. He gave her a small smile before replying:

If i have to hear another stupid toast, I’m going back to my room

She scanned his reply, and he noticed her lips curve up upwards as she did. Satoru leaned back, fork mushing the leftovers of his desert as he waited for her. Her hands reached down, and placed it right on his thigh and he almost jolted at the slight hint of her fingers against his jean-clad thighs.

He shakily opened the response, a misplaced sense of guilt ravishing his brain.

what about me???

He tried not to think much before he replied, reminding himself that this was friendly. She was being friendly.

You can come up too. I’d hate to leave you here with the wolves.

“Gojo,” Hana said, her voice loud enough for the entire table to hear. Satoru turned to her, raising his brows. “You wanted to show me that book, right?” She turned to her mother. “Ma, do we have enough time for me to go up and check it out?”

Her mother smiled a very specific kind of smile, and Satoru once again reminded himself that this was friendly.

“Oh, of course. With the way things are going, I think we have about twenty more toasts to go.”

Satoru glanced back at his father who, in his drunken stupor, paid him no mind while his mother barely looked his way, eyes focused on the empty plate below her.

When Hana went through his small bookshelf, something he didn’t think she’d actually do, he sat on his messy bed and watched her. She stopped at one of the books and pulled it out, a small smile on her lips as she turned back to look at Satoru.

“What is this?” she asked, plopping down on the bed as she scanned a CD he’d placed in the middle of all the books. It was something Geto had given him once after a fight he’d had with you two months into your relationship, and if he remembered correctly, he’d written, on top of the case with a thick, black marker: move on bro!! Geto had brought it up in one of your recent conversations and said he wasn’t right in the head to think either of you could ever move on from the other, and followed that statement by saying you were meant for each other.

“Uh, my friend gave it to me after I had a… well—”

“A breakup?”

It was a small falling out, but he didn’t correct her because it was so long ago. So, he nodded.

“Breakups are so—they’re so annoying.”

Satoru chuckled, curious. “Got your heart broke or somethin’?”

She shook her head vigorously, as though she hated that statement with every fiber in her bones. “No, at least not recently. Probably because I hate the idea of meaningless relationships.”

Meaningless relationships? “Elaborate.”

“I don’t know! Like, I’ve thought about it and I just don’t see the reason to tie myself down to someone, you know? I’m young and I have a lot of time to get serious and have joint bank accounts but now? I feel like if I ever tied myself down, it’d end sometime because we end up hating each other for holding each other back while we’re so young.”

He tried not to think about her words too much, but it was hard. He was sure she’d say something completely different were he to tell him about you and your engagement, sugarcoating her words and saying stuff like not you! I’m just talking about me, of course. And that was what he didn’t want. He appreciated her brutal honesty because she was unknowingly giving her perspective on something he hadn’t thought about before getting engaged.

You love her and you’re her fiance, a part of his mind told him, holding him back from probing further. But another part, the part of him that was always scared over one thing or another pushed him to ask her more.

And he did, he asked until he was unconsciously convincing himself that the two of you shouldn’t go through with this, but not enough for him to break it off with you.

What did convince him to break it off with you was something that happened around a month later, after he and Hana had hung out plenty of times due to the increasing closeness of their parents. It was because he found himself shifting his chair closer to hers during dinner. It was because he unconsciously raised his thigh everytime she passed him a note and didn’t reach out his hand so her fingers would graze over it. It was because he was texting her more than he was texting you, and a part of him didn’t seem to mind it.

He knew it was wrong, despite the plethora of times he tried to convince himself that it was platonic. He couldn’t deny that there was something so utterly wrong about how he didn’t want to tell Hana that he was engaged to you. He didn’t end it with you after doing something that would instantly cross the line he’d been teetering over the edge of for a month, he ended it with you when he felt like if she would cross that line unknowingly, he wouldn’t stop himself from giving in.

And Satoru didn’t want to cross that line.

#tell me how we feel ab this bc im kinda scared #babies im literally batman vengeance will be served dont u worry #gojo x reader #angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo angst #gojo satoru #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst

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takecareluv · 10 months

Note

omg meg baby imagine giving steve a haircut <3 he’s like so anxious at first n then he gets so so relaxed n he’s lowkey nappijg by the end and u wake him up and he’s like. hm? with the softest voice ever <3 <3

— @inkluvs (ivy)

mr. perfect hair | steve harrington x reader

word count : 777

author's note : omg it’s so funny you sent this in because i’m literally getting a hair cut tmr !! anyway. . . this is my first stevie request :3 eeek im a little nervous. i hope it's okay! <3

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

although you adored your boyfriend's infamous hair more than anyone, even you could admit he was in dire need of a trim. getting steve to agree, however, would take some serious convincing on your part. especially considering his last trip to the barber shop was, in steve's words, "scarring for life". he didn't leave the house for almost a month after the disastrous haircut without any sort of hat atop his head.

luckily for you, you had that boy wrapped around your finger — knowing exactly what it would take to get your stevie to do just about anything you asked, including giving his precious hair a little trim.

. . .

adorned in your boyfriend's favorite dress, and shoes to match, you pulled a fresh batch of your homemade chocolate chip cookies out of the oven — baked to perfection — and placed them next to a bottle of steve's preferred beer, waiting for his arrival.

as if on queue, steve walked through the doorway, smiling at the sight of you before abruptly pausing due to the sweetness that filled not only the air, but now his senses. "i know that smell. those are your bribery cookies... what are you up to?" he questioned with a suspicious but ever so loving look, preparing himself to inevitably say yes to whatever it is you were about to ask of him.

"well... you see i just made an appointment for a haircut and i was thinking maybe it's time you get one too," you smiled hesitantly, attempting to gauge his reaction.

"i don't know, baby. i don't think i can go back to that salon. they messed up big time. practically ruined me. i can't be steve 'the hair' harrington with no hair."

you rolled your eyes at his dramatics before cutting off the rest of his rant, "i'll do it for you, stevie." noticing him soften at your plea, you continued, "please let me do it for you? can't see those beautiful eyes of yours with all that hair in the way." you spoke calmly while looking up at him with your award-winning puppy dog eyes, hoping it would do the trick.

after a brief moment of silent contemplating, steve let out a loud sigh, "fine." you began to jump up and down in celebration. "but," he emphasized, "only a little bit, baby. no more than an inch, okay?"

you nodded excitedly in response.

"you promise?" steve gave a pointed look, holding his pinkie finger up towards you, waiting for your own to intertwine with his. "i promise, stevie! i'll do just enough to get off all the dead ends, that's it!"

"hey! I don't have dead ends. my hair is perfect!"

"keep telling yourself that pretty boy," you teased while ruffling his truly perfect hair.

. . .

after a few minutes of anxiousness, steve remembered it was only you doing his hair, not some stranger who didn't know the first thing about him, but you. you who probably saw his hair more than he did. you who knew exactly how he liked it styled. he knew he could trust you, he could always trust you.

as you began to gently brush through his ends, you felt him relax and even lean into your touch, letting out a long, content sigh.

knowing he was finally calm enough, you grabbed the scissors you had prepared next to you and slowly started to snip away at his hair, small pieces descending to the floor after every cut.

soon after, you were making one last snip before placing the scissors down and brushing your fingers through steve's soft strands, noticing the way your boyfriend's eyes began to flutter closed.

"feel good, stevie?"

goosebumps cover his body from your whispered words and soft touches. "yes," he hummed in response. "can you play with my hair forever, sweetheart?"

"i'm not sure about forever, but i'll try my best. do you wanna see how it looks?"

he shakes his head. "if you did it, i'm sure it's perfect." pressing a quick kiss to your temple while guiding you towards the couch. "right now i just want you to keep playing with my hair. please?" practically begging at this point, how could you say no to your sweet boy.

. . .

you remain on the couch for the rest of the night, steve's head resting on your lap while you give him all the head scratches he wants and deserves, almost lulling him right to sleep.

"i hope you know you're the only one who's allowed to cut my hair from now on, sweetheart."

you giggle. "are you sure you can afford me? i'm pretty expensive. and those head scratches are extra you know."

#stevie <3 #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington imagine

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navybrat817 · 2 years

Text

Permanent

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Steve Rogers x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader x Steve Rogers Summary: Bucky and Steve brand their best girl. Word Count: Over 6.6k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), spitroasting, threesome, dirty talk, tension, possessive behavior, porn with feels (it’s me, c’mon), tattooed Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers (they’re warnings, okay?) A/N: Welcome back to my tattoo AU! Have you missed them? I know I have! Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Thank you, lovely! Banner created by yours truly, but Bucky and Steve photos were provided by the talented @nix-akimbo ! This AU wouldn’t exist without them. Divider by the beautiful @firefly-graphics and banners by the lovely @vase-of-lilies. And thanks to @lookiamtrying and @drabblewithfrannybarnes for our new reader nickname.

Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please comment and reblog as it means the world!

It was a beautiful day as you sat between Bucky and Steve in Thor’s truck, gazing through the windshield as the three of you drove through town. The boys had just finished setting up your new dining room table and Thor was kind enough to let them use his truck to pick it up and deliver it from the store. Ever since you moved into their place, they had done everything in their power to make the place more like your own. That included upgrading some of the furniture, which you tried to talk them out of in the beginning. You didn’t want them turning their home upside down for you. They, of course, argued that it was your home now, too.

Not to mention, one of them usually dropped their knees and buried their face between your legs if you protested too much. They didn’t play fair. And you never expected them to. Your beautiful, tattooed bastards.

You looked between them and took a moment to appreciate the view. Bucky smirked at you as he caught your eye. He was growing his hair out a bit and you were half tempted to tug on it. You turned your attention to Steve, who smiled softly as he looked away from the road for just a moment. You wished you could feel his beard scrape along your skin.

I'll never get enough of them.

“How did you manage to get Thor’s truck again?” You asked as Steve turned onto the main street. “I thought this was his baby. Or is that his recliner in the basement?”

“His recliner is his other baby. And we may have promised you’d cook him dinner,” Bucky answered, rubbing small circles on your thigh as you gasped.

“You did what? Do you know how much he eats?” You teased as the brunette laughed.

“We did not. Thor was just being nice,” Steve smiled. The boys refused to let anyone else deliver the furniture since they were in good enough shape to move things themselves. “He’s also probably trying to win more brownie points with Mrs. Monroe by looking generous.”

“I think he has plenty, especially since he helped us move my stuff,” you grinned. Mrs. Monroe was sad to see you leave your old place and you were as well. She was a great neighbor and one of the many to be on your side when Grant and Billy harassed you. You also knew she had a soft spot for Thor and hoped that her granddaughter would end up with him. “I might make him dinner though so I can remain his favorite, until he gets a girlfriend."

“You think you’re his favorite?” Steve laughed a little.

“Yes,” you and Bucky said at the same time.

More laughter filled the truck, the sound almost as bright as the weather. "He does have a soft spot for you," Steve agreed.

"Even Loki likes you, but don't tell him we said that," Bucky winked.

Heat flooded your cheeks. Being part of their group sometimes felt like an out of body experience. Most people around town looked at you differently now, but in a good way. Dating two of the most prominent tattoo artists around changed everything for the better. You wore confidence like a second skin. It looked good on you.

"Thor should be stopping by the shop later today. He wants to see the finished product," Steve told you.

Your wrists tingled as he mentioned the shop. Today was the day you were finally getting your tattoos. One from each of them, designed by them, just for you. It was a way to show you were theirs. Maybe one day, down the road, I’ll get a ring. And only if they want that.

“You nervous about today?” Bucky questioned, all traces of teasing gone. Both kept asking if you really wanted to go through with getting your tattoos and would’ve understood if you wanted to back out. They seemed nervous leading up to today, too, making sure you wanted to stick to the appointment.

Do they think I’ll back out?

“Nope, not nervous,” you put your hand over his, your other reaching for Steve’s as he glanced at you. He looked slightly relieved. “Why would I be?”

“Because what we’re giving you is permanent,” Steve replied.

For some reason, it felt like he wasn’t talking about tattoos. “Yeah, they are and I want them. You can’t change my mind,” you told them, squeezing their hands. Bucky slowly breathed out. Was he expecting me to change my mind? “And if they’re anything like any of your tattoos, I know I’m in for a treat.”

The boys were littered in gorgeous tattoos. You loved them all because every single one of them had a story or significance behind them. They shared similar tattoos, like the rose each of them had for strength and courage. They each had a variation of the Brooklyn Bridge so they would never forget where they came from. And, of course, the symbol for their time in the military, honoring the unit they bonded with. Those were just a few.

"Steve designed something beautiful," Bucky said proudly.

"So did you, Buck," Steve stated just as proudly.

It warmed your heart how much they lifted each other up. "Did either one of you happen to design an animal?" you asked curiously. Bucky had a white wolf to symbolize resilience and survival, a reminder of adjusting to life with his metal arm. Steve had an eagle for strength and courage, always standing up for the people around him.

"Thought you wanted the designs to be a secret," Bucky said as the truck came to a stop.

"I do and I know that they'll be perfect. I'm just," you tried to find the right word. It wasn’t nerves. You wouldn’t lie to them about that. "Antsy? Yeah, I’m a little antsy."

"What can we do to help?" Steve asked, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"Tell us," Bucky urged as he shifted to face you, removing his seatbelt, too. You were shocked that the three of you fit in the space with how big they were. Then again, Thor was even bigger and he managed just fine.

"Nothing. I'm fine. Really," you promised. My beautiful boyfriends, ready to jump if I asked them to. "Maybe we could go for a dip. We had so much fun last time."

You smirked as you glanced between them. Steve’s hand tightened into a fist and Bucky licked his lips. You knew they were looking back on that day in Thor's pool, how they unashamedly had you between their bodies, making you feel good and not caring that their friends were nearby to witness it. They never hid their need for you. If anything, they were proud of it.

“Thor won’t be home for awhile,” Bucky said nonchalantly, his hand sliding higher up your leg. Your thighs parted, your body instinctively in tune with theirs. “We could go for a swim.”

“Not breaking into his backyard,” Steve argued, but you heard the slight strain in his voice as his hand went to your other thigh. “We can find a way to take some of the edge off."

"Not to point out the obvious, but this isn't the best space for it," Bucky said, a disappointed look in his eyes as he looked at his best friend. "And Thor might kill us if we get stains on the seats."

You had to smile. The man was built like a god and seeing him angry wouldn't be a pretty sight. "Well…" you trailed off as you looked over your shoulder, into the empty bed of the truck. “Plenty of space back there.”

Bucky swung his head with a grin, moaning a bit. “Right here in the street, doll?”

“Technically, we wouldn’t be in the street. We’d be in the truck,” you teased, starting to close your legs. “But if you two aren’t up for that-”

Lips pressed firmly against yours before you could finish that thought, Bucky’s hand gently gripping your chin to keep you in place. “We have a blanket, Steve?”

“We do,” he answered, reaching back to grab it from behind his seat. He also kept your legs open before you could shut them further. “And we have that thin cushion Thor let us use, too.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want you to get uncomfortable. Speaking of uncomfortable,” Bucky smirked as he took your hand and placed it on his crotch. “Got me nice and hard, doll. Barely touch me and that’s what you do. Punk’s straining in his pants, too. Won’t feel better ‘til we’re inside you.”

You palmed the brunette as a rush of heat went through you, glancing over at Steve as he opened the door. The tent in his pants was evident as he got out. “And unless we want to scare the neighbors, we should hurry.”

“I don’t think ‘scare’ would be the word,” you said as Bucky pushed his door open. You wondered just how much of exhibitionists your boyfriends were at heart. The potential to get caught did make it fun and they weren't the type to be embarrassed about it if you were. At most, Steve would give whoever found them a sheepish smile. And both would easily charm their way out of it if someone got upset.

Bucky helped you out, your head spinning a bit as he pulled you to the back of the truck. Steve was already in the bed, making sure the cushion was situated. Bucky hopped in beside him, not making a sound as he unfolded the blanket. How do they move so quickly and quietly?

Both held out a hand to help you in and you relished in how dark their gazes were as they pulled you in. You hardly had a chance to crawl on the cushion before Steve kissed you, the hidden hunger surfacing as Bucky moved behind you. Fuck, we’re really doing this here. Why did I suggest this? Why didn’t I suggest this sooner?

“Gonna look so pretty with our ink on you,” the blonde said, kissing along your jaw.

“Almost as pretty as you look when you come on our cocks. That what you need, doll? To get our dicks nice and wet before we leave a mark on you?” the brunette added, his large hands roaming your trembling body.

“Yes, fuck. Please,” you moaned.

“We need it, too,” Bucky’s mouth against your neck only turned you on more, the need to be ruined consuming you.

Your hands quickly covered Steve's when he gripped your skirt, pulling you out of your dizzying state for a moment. "Don't you DARE destroy this skirt. It's one of my favorites."

"We'll buy you a new one," Bucky swore, toying with the fabric from behind you.

"You will not because you are not ruining this one," your tone not giving them a chance to say otherwise. I’m running out of clothes, but I could have worse problems.

"Okay," Steve agreed easily, pushing your skirt up. "Won't destroy this one."

You were about to thank him when he smirked over your shoulder and exchanged a look with Bucky. His metal hand brushed along your covered mound before he gripped the thin material and ripped it away. "Bucky!"

"You said not to destroy your skirt. Not your underwear, which is soaked. Always so wet and ready for us."

Add that to the list of ruined clothes. Why do I bother with underwear?

“But we don’t want you too sore,” Steve said, running a finger along your slit. “So only one cock is filling our sweet pussy.”

You whined because you wanted both of them inside you. “Steve-”

“You can take both our cocks tonight at home. We'll take it slow, doll. Get you nice and stretched out for us," Bucky promised, his voice dripping with desire as Steve slipped a finger in. "Make you beg just a little 'cause it's so fucking pretty when you beg."

You clenched around the digit, trying in vain to feel him deeper. “I should make you both beg for me.”

“We’ll both get down on our knees and beg to have you forever if we have to,” Bucky whispered, unexpected tenderness in his voice given the heated situation.

“Forever,” Steve echoed, his gaze soft as he touched your cheek with his free hand. You almost questioned if something was up when he removed his finger, making you whine. The two of them exchanged a look again before you were manhandled, put on your hands and knees. You scrambled for a moment, practically tearing at Steve’s pants to get his cock out.

“Desperate for us?” he smirked, helping you unbutton his jeans to push them down.

“No more than usual,” you grinned. If they don’t have any shame, why should I?

"Ready for us, doll?" Bucky asked, hearing him shift slightly, likely discarding his pants. "Bet you'll be nice and calm with our come in your greedy holes."

You looked over your shoulder, tightening around nothing as he stroked himself. "You know I will be. So either fuck me or I'll do it myself," you threatened impatiently.

Steve grabbed your chin, careful not to hurt you as he forced you to look at him. "As fun as that would be to watch," he smirked, teasing your lips with the tip of his cock. "Buck's right. You need us to fill you up."

Your eyes slipped shut for a blissful moment as you opened your mouth, Steve's length slowly sliding along your tongue. You wiggled your ass enticingly, your pussy empty and aching. Moaning, you felt Bucky grip a hip as he pressed the head against your wet hole, the cock in your mouth pushing deeper.

"Breathe, sweetheart," Steve gently reminded you as Bucky began to push in.

You spread your legs a bit wider, making a small sound as you inhaled through your nose. Feeling both of them in you was always satisfying, your body welcoming them home where they belonged. I love them so much. You hollowed out your cheeks as they moved in tandem, already giving you what you needed. They read you so well.

"Holy shit," Steve slid his hand to the back of your head, fucking your mouth in shallow thrusts as you sucked harder. "That's it, sweetheart."

"Pussy's gripping me like a vice, doll. What's got you so excited?" Bucky stretched over your back a bit as they both moved faster, pressure already burning in your core. "That anyone can see us? Or that they'll see that you're ours?"

You could only moan in response, clenching around them. I'm yours. All yours. Want everyone to know. More, please, please. The groans and pants they let out spurred you on, doing your best to take them in as deep as you could.

"Take it," Steve groaned as he worked his hips. "Take everything we give you."

You took every inch as they kept the steady pace, your clit throbbing as they pushed and pulled you between them. You whimpered as they brought you closer to the edge, the pleasure so hot inside you it almost burned you. Feeling Bucky's balls slap against you as he kept up the steady pace, and hearing Steve's pants as he slid across your tongue, wasn't enough. You needed them to give that final push.

"She's close. Squeezing me so fucking hard," Bucky groaned as he leaned over you, grinding deep into you as his hand moved quickly to your front. You nearly screamed around Steve as Bucky's fingers found your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts. "Oh, that's it. Fuck, still sound so beautiful with your mouth full. Almost there."

Fuck. Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop. Please, make me come.

You managed to meet Steve's gaze as the knot inside you got closer to tightening and snapping, his blue eyes as commanding as his voice when he grunted, "Come for us."

The tension exploded, your body shuddering through your orgasm as you spasmed around Bucky's cock. The breath would've been stolen from your lungs if you weren't choking on Steve. Little whimpers left your throat as you trembled, hearing both men swear as they sped up. You wished it didn’t have to end, but you needed to feel them fill you up.

“Fuck, so fucking good,” Bucky moaned, driving into you until he buried himself to the hilt, spilling hot and thick inside you. "Fuck," he hissed as you milked him, wanting every drop he could give you.

Steve throbbed in your mouth, feeling him harden more, before he stilled and came down your throat. He said you would take everything they gave you and he was right. He gasped as he slid out, sitting back as Bucky managed to keep you from collapsing. It was perfect.

They’re so fucking perfect.

You felt Steve’s lips against yours, giving you a soft and lazy kiss, as Bucky pulled out of you. He helped you stretch out so you could rest a little, all of you smiling as you panted. You were sated, at ease and it was just what you needed.

“So,” you breathed, smiling wide. “That happened.”

“Believe it or not,” Steve smiled a bit. “We needed that, too.”

“For good luck?” you teased.

“Yeah. We’ll call it that,” Bucky said, kissing your forehead before you heard loud footsteps approaching the truck.

Oh, shit.

“What in heavens have you done?!”

You almost gave yourself whiplash as you sat up, your eyes wide as they locked with a pair of thunderous blue eyes. “Thor?”

You scrambled to make yourself presentable, but the boys made no effort to cover up.

“Shall I ask again?!”

Thor’s booming voice made you cover your mouth. To anyone else, you would’ve looked shocked. Your boys, however, knew at this point that you were trying not to laugh.

“Here’s the thing. We-”

“You defiled her in the back of my truck,” Thor cut Bucky off.

Yes. Yes, they did.

“Technically, we-” Steve tried to say calmly as he tucked himself away.

“You’ve already desecrated my pool, which I have no issue with,” Thor reminded them. We may revisit that pool. “But here? My sacred vessel?!”

You made a noise similar to a snort as your boyfriends looked at you for help. Tempted to say it was all their idea for looking so sexy. "Please, don't be mad at them. I suggested it. I was feeling antsy about my tattoos and they wanted to help," you explained, your eyes downcast when you finished. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, no, no, no," Thor said quickly, his hands raised in a surrendering gesture as you hid your smile. "I would never be upset with you."

Oh, Thor, you are so screwed if you end up dating a Monroe. She'll turn her doe eyes on you and you'll melt.

"But you two will give this a thorough cleaning," he pointed between your men. "I shall take my bike for the time being."

"Thank you for understanding," you smiled as you lifted your gaze.

"Of course. And I shall see you at the shop. Do not worry. You're in good hands," he promised. "As you are already well aware."

"You're helping us wash this," Bucky said as Thor walked toward his garage.

"Not a chance," you smirked, nearly jumping when Steve affectionately pinched your side.

"I'm already thinking of ways you can make it up to us," he said.

You are the man with a plan.

The gentle noise of the needles and conversations in the Howling Commandos shop made you smile as you waited in your chair. You never expected those sounds to become some of your favorites, but life surprised you. And thanks to the earlier activities and a hearty meal, you felt much more relaxed.

"How are you so calm?" Mandy demanded, plopping down in the chair across from you. "How?!"

You had to laugh as your shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, not mentioning the pleasant ache between your thighs. "Needles don't bother me, I want these tattoos and I trust them," you recited easily. You had no reason to be nervous, especially since you knew they'd handle you with care.

Mandy narrowed her eyes, leaning forward as she tapped a finger against the armrest. “They fucked you before they opened the shop, didn’t they?”

Might just make it a morning ritual, which it kind of is. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Where?” she asked suspiciously.

“Back of Thor’s truck.”

"Naughty girl. You know he loves his truck,” she shook her head with a grin. “And I can't believe you're letting them ink you without them telling you what they're branding you with.”

"Seriously, why do you make everything they do sound so dirty?"

"Because they are dirty. You have permanent bowleggedness or whatever it's called since they can't keep their dicks out of you," she teased, raising an eyebrow as you began to laugh. She isn't wrong. "Surprised you're not knocked up."

"Not this again," you groaned as your laughter died down, pinching the bridge of your nose. Ever since you moved in with Bucky and Steve, Mandy constantly asked when you were getting married and having babies. You expected it from everyone else, but not your best friend.

In hindsight, I should have.

"Yes, this again. Have you guys talked about it?"

"We’ve talked a bit about it,” you answered, shifting a bit in your seat. “They both want a future with me and to build a home together. I want that, too. For the time being, we're enjoying living together. Isn't that enough for you?"

"Is it enough for you? You haven't imagined wedding bells or anything like that?" Mandy asked knowingly.

You glanced at the ring finger of your left hand. "Of course, I have," you admitted. You were in love with your boyfriends and you wanted to marry them. The fact that Steve gave love another chance after a failed engagement and Bucky was willing to share his love and a partner with his best friend still made you want to pinch yourself.

I hope they know how much I appreciate them letting me in.

"I fucking knew it!" Mandy yelled loud enough to make the shop go silent.

"You knew what?" Bucky called back.

"That she's going to marry you and Steve so you can make an honest woman out of her," she smirked as you flipped her off. It didn't bother her in the slightest.

"She'd be making honest men out of us, too," Steve chimed in as Bucky chuckled.

You swung your head to where your boyfriends were sitting, each of them finishing up with a couple of regular clients. They really do make me throb just by looking at them. How is that possible? And what’s that look they just gave each other?

“It may be your pussy that brings them to their knees, but they’re on my side when it comes to your future.”

“Please, don’t encourage her,” you begged as Mandy grinned proudly. “And worry about your own pussy.”

“That’s my job,” Natasha smirked as she appeared with a glass of water, handing it to you. “And I have to agree that you have nothing to worry about. You’ll love what they came up with.”

“You’ve seen them?” you asked, taking a sip.

“No, but they discussed them a bit. Minus each other, they want you to be the first to see them.”

“And they’re really going to do her at the same time?” Mandy smirked.

The redhead smirked back at her girlfriend. “They are. Should be quite the show.”

You looked between them suspiciously. “You’re both going to watch?” you asked. You knew Thor wanted to stop by to see them, even though he had the day off, but Nat wanted to see them, too?

“It’s not every day I get to see two of my favorite boys do their favorite girl. Might even tape it.”

Everything is a sex joke with this group. Deviants. All of them. “Who said I was going to let anyone watch? How can I be the first to see them when they’re done if you’re here?”

Mandy gasped at the suggestion that you might not let her stay. “Oh, come on! You held my hand when I got mine and I won’t be able to hold yours, so you can at least let me watch. Please?”

“Of course, you can stay. I was just giving you a hard time, like you give me,” you grinned as she relaxed in her seat. It was nice that she wanted to be there. And Bucky did such a great job with her tattoo, even with how scared she had been. "You invite anyone else?"

"Not Peggy," Mandy coolly replied.

"Be nice," you urged. Peggy didn't come around or bother you. She was usually busy helping Sharon and Briana. You half expected there to be drama after everything with her, along with Grant and Billy, but things were peaceful.

"You be nice. I'll be a bitch."

“That’s enough of that,” Natasha shot Mandy a look. Both of you knew your best friend was still being protective of you. “Clint and Sam want to see. Tony may even swing by.”

“Did you invite everyone?” you asked suspiciously. It seemed a little strange. Why would they all want to see them?

“The boys are excited,” she responded. Her face gave nothing away as she patted your shoulder, so you dropped it. “Relax. They’re almost ready for you.”

I would relax more if I didn’t see Mandy wink at you. What are they up to? And why haven’t they clued me in?

True to Natasha’s word, Thor, Clint and Sam were all standing nearby chatting a few minutes later. Did they clear their schedules for this? You narrowed your eyes as you looked at your boyfriends. They whispered to each other as their clients paid and left. And for the first time today, they looked nervous.

Are they scared I’m going to hate my tattoos?

You turned your head when the bell above the door rang, your eyebrows shooting up as Tony Stark walked in moments later with a bottle in his hand. He would wear sunglasses in the shop. It somehow worked.

“Didn’t start the party without me, did you?”

“It isn’t a party, Stark,” Natasha reminded him.

“Is that right? I thought we were celebrating,” he smirked, winking over at you. “Not every day these boys are naughty in the back of Point Break’s truck.”

Thor gave you a sheepish look before you could say anything. “I wasn’t going to tell him, but he’s very persuasive.”

“And the worst person to keep a secret. It just happened this morning,” you said, expecting one of the boys to jump in and say something. They were still whispering to each other. “Everything okay?” you called out to get their attention.

The wide eyed looks they gave you almost made you laugh. Almost. “Sorry. You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you said.

“And I resent that. I can keep a secret,” Tony argued as he set the bottle down at one of the stations. “No drinks until you’re done.”

You got a look at the label as he walked away. It was very expensive. “All that for a couple of tattoos?”

“Let’s get started,” Steve said as Tony opened his mouth, cutting him off.

The antsy feeling began to creep in as Natasha whispered something in Clint’s ear, bringing a devilish grin to his face. Sam appeared to be casual, but there was an excited glint in his eyes. Thor looked like he couldn’t stand still and Mandy…

“Are you crying?” you asked her. She has tears in her eyes. Actual tears.

“Nope. Not crying,” she swore, blinking rapidly as Nat held out her hand for her to take. “Just happy for you.”

“This is weird. You’re all acting weird,” you said as Bucky and Steve took their spots on each side of your chair. They had their machines and stencils nearby, but didn’t say anything about your comment. “Guys, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” they said at once.

Bull-fucking-shit. “Are you two really that nervous?” you asked. These two had fought side-by-side, in and out of the military, and had seen their share of horrors. They were masters of their craft. They had nothing to fear about this.

Steve nodded slowly. You got a better look at him and saw how pale he was. “Maybe we’re feeling a bit antsy now. At least, I am.”

“I am a bit, too,” Bucky added, leaning over to give you a quick kiss. You noticed that his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “We want it to be perfect. It’s what you deserve.”

You felt small as the words sunk in, briefly reaching out to touch the tops of their hand. Maybe that’s why they wanted everyone here. Moral support was always a good thing. “You have nothing to be nervous about. I told you earlier, I trust you. I’m ready,” you promised. Your wrists were ready to be branded. They were artists and you allowed yourself to become their canvas.

The boys didn’t visibly relax, but you could feel that some of the tension was gone as you looked between them.

“You sure you don’t want to be blindfolded?” Sam joked.

“That’s for the bedroom only,” you teased back, making everyone laugh.

You exhaled as they cleaned your inner wrists with the rubbing alcohol. The cool sensation was almost a sense of false security since you knew you were going to feel at least some degree of pain shortly. The stencils went on next as you stared straight ahead. As tempted as you were to glance down to see them, you refused to look.

“Since you’re not going to look,” Bucky grinned. “Do you trust where we’re putting these?”

“And from what we see, they’re nice and even,” Steve promised.

“Once again, I trust you,” you told them before they slowly pulled the paper away.

You smiled as Mandy got her phone out to take a picture, waiting patiently as the boys got their machines ready. You really did admire how seriously they took their job for every single client and you were no exception. They ran a clean, safe shop. You were in the best hands.

“Deep breaths,” Bucky softly reminded you once they were ready, checking his machine once more.

“And try to stay still,” Steve added. They warned you that the lining would likely be the most painful part of the process, with any shading or coloring afterwards hurting less. “If it’s too much, tell us.”

You nodded quickly. Deep breaths. Stay still. If I can take their cocks, I can take a couple of needles.

Though they warned you, the prickling sensation you felt on each wrist almost made you jump. The needles stung, as you expected, but you managed not to make a sound. You could feel their soothing touch through their gloves as they held your lower arms down. It was gentle, intimate and you firmly had to remind yourself not to be aroused.

They already came inside me once today and I don’t need to make a mess on this chair with everyone watching.

The conversations around you were in low tones, likely to put you at ease, and they had varying degrees of smiles on their faces. Even Mandy was unexpectedly silent as she took a couple of photos. You expected her to be a chatterbox, but she was likely being respectful of the boys to not distract them. You appreciated it.

“Doing great, doll,” Bucky praised, even though he didn’t lift his eyes. Steve did for a moment, giving you a tender smile, before he went back to work. And it was so much like them to balance giving you what you needed, which was assurance in different ways.

I love you both.

After a few minutes, the pain faded to a dulling sensation. Maybe it was adrenaline or your body getting used to it. You wouldn’t call a needle piercing your skin a pleasant feeling, but it wasn’t bad. It somehow felt like the right kind of pain. You could easily see why people didn’t stop at one tattoo.

“Still feeling okay?” Steve questioned as you nodded. “Do you need to take a break?”

“I’m fine. No break,” you said.

Mandy held out her phone to show you the photos. She managed to block out your wrists, or maybe the boys were just shielding them that well. You somehow heard the bell over the needles, surprised to see Loki. He didn’t acknowledge anyone as he silently walked over to Thor.

Ha. Guess he really does like me.

“You ready to look?” Bucky asked as he looked up, both of them clicking their machines off.

They’re done? How did they do that at the same time? “Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Which one first?” Steve smiled since you still hadn’t looked down.

Instead of answering his question, you slowly lifted both arms and bent them at the elbow so both of your wrists were in view. So many emotions went through you as you saw them. “Oh, my god.”

On your left wrist was an eight-pointed star with what appeared to be tiny gem embellishments. On the end of each were alternates between tiny moons and suns. On your right wrist was the shape of a heart, but it was made out of multiple flowers. Above the heart were the words “Live Free” with three birds flying together.

“Before we explain what they mean, what do you think of them?” Bucky asked, his voice cracking a little.

“I love them. They’re so beautiful. They’re perfect,” you smiled between them. Their smiles almost blinded you and you knew how much love and care they put into creating these. “Thank you.”

They each gave you a kiss, the sweet feel of their lips even better than normal. You turned your wrists so everyone could see them. Mandy snapped a couple photos, shrieking as she did so.

“Those are gorgeous! You better put these on your wall.”

“Fit for a queen,” Thor said proudly as he admired them.

Loki rolled his eyes, but a ghost of a smile was there. “Not bad.”

“That means he likes them,” Natasha said as Clint got his phone out.

“Get together, you three,” he said, holding it up to take a photo

“We still need to wrap her wrists,” Steve argued, but he moved in and smiled so the picture could be taken.

“Thought that was for the bedroom,” Sam joked, making Bucky laugh as Tony went to pour drinks.

I hope Clint got that in the photo. And where did Tony get the shot glasses from? “Yes, please let them wrap them so they can tell me why they designed these.”

You placed your arms back on the chair so they could apply the ointment and wrap. They went through the aftercare instructions with you before, but you were certain they’d go over them again. It wouldn’t hurt, especially since you didn’t want to do any damage to the beautiful designs they just made.

“Come here, come here,” Mandy said once you were wrapped, grabbing your hands to pull you out of the chair. You almost laughed when she pulled you away from the group, your back to them. “You’re happy?”

“I am. They’re wonderful,” you smiled.

“Not the tattoos,” she said, biting her lip. “You’re happy with them? With Bucky and Steve?”

You nodded slowly. You swore tears were filling her eyes again. “I am. I love them more than anything.”

She sniffled as she hugged you close. “They love you, too, you know? So fucking much."

You patted her back a little, trying to figure out why she was so emotional. “I know they do. I’m lucky to have them.”

She hugged you tighter, sniffling again. “You’re my best friend and your happiness means the world to me.”

“Yours means the world to me, too,” you promised, leaning back and pushing her back gently by the shoulders so you could look at her. “But why are you being so emotional?”

Instead of speaking, she turned you around. Everyone was facing you, smiling as they held shot glasses in their hands. The only empty hands were Bucky and Steve’s, but they stood side-by-side with smiles as they gazed at you.

“What’s going on?” you questioned as you took a step forward.

Steve cleared his throat. “People have said at times that Buck and I are different, like night and day. The moon and the sun. So if we’re the moon and the sun, that makes you our star,” he explained as you glanced down at your left wrist.

“And your heart was one the things that drew us to you,” Bucky said as you lifted your gaze. His blue eyes had an extra shine to them as he smiled at you. “You reminded us of a flower. We got to watch you blossom into who you are and you’re a new beginning for both of us. You make us feel free.”

They stepped forward in sync, each reaching for your hand before they dropped to one knee.

Wait. Are they… “Oh, my God,” you whispered.

“You’re our star, our heart and a piece of us we never want to be without,” Bucky told you, a tear falling from his eye. “You taught me how to love and not to be afraid of it, even for a second.”

“And you taught me to love again and to fight like hell to hang onto it,” Steve said proudly.

You almost burst into tears as Bucky removed a box from his pocket. “Our friends have always been our family, but you are our home.”

You couldn’t stop the tears at that point, letting them spill freely as you smiled down at them.

Bucky held up the box as Steve opened it, the three entwining bands shining in the light. You couldn't tell where one began and the other two ended. It was unbreakable. “We love you with everything we have,” the brunette swore.

“And always will,” the blonde added.

“Will you be our wife?” they asked together, both looking up at you with hope and love in their eyes. You knew in that moment you would forever be their first world.

A watery laugh came out as you nodded. “Yes!”

"Against her better judgment she said 'yes'," Tony affectionately announced. "Drink!"

You heard Mandy burst into tears as Bucky slipped the ring on your finger, everyone cheering and downing their shot. None of it registered as you dropped to your knees, framing Bucky’s face to kiss him deeply. You let out another small, happy laugh before doing the same to Steve. You felt their arms wrap around you in a tight hug as you kept crying.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Steve chanted in a whisper.

“Love you so fucking much, doll,” Bucky sniffled, smiling as he kissed your temple. “Or should we start calling you Blossom?”

You laughed again as you felt both of them begin to wipe your tears away. “I like Blossom,” you said, looking at the ring on your left hand. That explained everything. Your boys being nervous, why Mandy was so emotional and why everyone was there. They were all welcoming you home. Your beautiful tattooed bastards were your home.

Because like the new tattoos on your wrist, they had a permanent place in your heart.

*****

Tattoo inspiration photos for our reader below.

Hope to see our boys again soon, especially since they have something to celebrate. Love and thanks for reading!

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l0ves1ckf0ol · 1 year

Text

WHY I AM THE WAY I AM. . . . anthony larusso x gn!reader

note: as awaited, i have finally uploaded more cobra kai content

anthony larusso was the equivalent of an insufferable and egotistical asshole or as everyone would call him, a bully. the l/n's and the larussos were close knit so at one point, anthony and y/n used to be friends. until the families hung out less due to their busy schedules and well- here we are, y/n sitting alone at their table at the cafeteria as anthony laughed along with his friends at another table. though the both of them only had small talk, after hearing about how he was bullying the new kid just because of a girl or something along the lines of that, they had had enough. y/n wasn't really intending to get close with the guy (kenny) , though they were really curious about the whole karate shenanigans they stayed put and out of their business but this dude really needs to stop.

he doesn't even know karate what's he to stand up for?

anthony larusso used to be a bright boy who y/n played online games with during their trips, he used to be a kid being able to find joy on a screen, he used to like hanging out with y/n now he probably doesn't even think about them anymore.

y/n wasn't one to be in anyone's business but once they had heard that kenny was shoved in a locker then stuffed inside with milk. they had never felt angrier than ever. they weren't even close with kenny but anthony has crossed the level of being a douchebag. y/n hates to think of anyone badly, they just wanna make sure that anthony now was the same anthony that they talked about video games with.

the surprise on mrs. larusso's face was hilarious as y/n casually pops in and swears that they wanted to hang out with anthony, they also brought cookies (courtesy to their mom). y/n didn't have the pleasure to see sam on their way upstairs, she probably had training. they had also learned thag anthony has bad manners because mrs. larusso insisted that anthony can't peel his eyes off of a screen to even talk to her.

they knock on his bedroom door, "come in!" y/n hears and they went inside. anthony was on his desk - surprisingly even doing his homework. "if you're gonna rant about eagle fang, sam i don't have time-" he stops himself once he looks up to see who it was. his face falls for a moment and then lights up, realizing it was his childhood friend.

"hey... y/n. why are you here?" anthony frowns, confused. y/n sighs as they close the door behind them. "you know i don't have any friends at school, can i at least make an attempt to make one?" y/n lies, they thought they'd be fine off without anthony (again, a lie.)

"well i'm done with homework, let's catch up." anthony says, closing the math book that was opened on his desk. "wait here, i'll get us some chips and some drinks." y/n notes that he was still polite. good so far.

once he was back, he insisted they'd watch their favorite show when they were kids on his ipad and that was where they both got cozy on his bed, stomachs against the mattress and arms folded for their chin to lay on as they ate lays potato chips while watching Bluey. it had been way too long since they both shared a bed while watching wholesome shows. it felt nice. it felt even nice when anthony still acted like the same chubby kid that y/n loved spending time with.

why was he acting such a douchebag in school anyway?

"what's with the big shot attitude at school, ant?" y/n starts, still staring at the screen of the ipad, watching the show. "you haven't called me that for a while." they scoff,

"you haven't had the time to." they mutter. anthony sighs through his nose, "you know i'm sorry about not hanging out with you, my mom was surprised i went out my room to get us snacks, i went out my comfort zone for you." he jokes sarcastically, y/n rolls their eyes. "ha ha, you are the funniest person on earth."

anthony giggles as bingo and bluey chase each other at their yard. "why do you suddenly care anyway? you show up suddenly at my house and you claim to miss hanging out with me, you're still weird after a long time." he mumble his head tilting to the side one slight movement of relaxation he would fall on their shoulder. "just wanted to check on you." y/n told him. "how come when i come over, i see you- the kid that i used to be the bestest friends with, turn out to be real nice and innocent and when you're at school- you're a bully, a huge douchebag."

anthony stays silent, unmoving and this worries y/n. "ant?" y/n hears a sniffle. anthony looks at them, glossy eyes and tear stained cheeks. "why? what's wrong?" y/n asks as anthony shuts off the ipad and lays on his back.

"i don't know, y/n. i'm- i want people to like me. like how my people like my sister, the nicest larusso kid, lia seems to like kenny so i-"

"so you made fun of him, humiliated him?"

anthony scoffs, "you are just like everyone else." he mutters, sitting up to face them. y/n raises a brow, "enlighten me larusso." they reply. "i don't get why people just berate me for what i do and not even question why i act like this, why i am the way i am." anthony rants, y/n shrugs, "well then, why are you this way?"

"because... because...." anthony trails off as he tries to find a valid answer, eyebrows knitting together. y/n had a hunch in their head about the reason.

"look- i know you can't help but feel like you're left alone to fend for yourself or you need to constantly chase your parents' expectations or even just their attention, but that isn't any excuse to bully someone." y/n told him, bracing for him to get upset and this was a one shot answer to making things awkward between them.

"i know... i shouldn't have done it anyway." anthony mumbles.

"good, now i wanna see you apologize to him- i dont care how just do it sincerely." y/n says to him. "can i just hang out with you right now? it's been so long." he whines, flopping back down on to his pillow. "alright, alright, do it at school.

#cobra kai anthony larusso #anthony larusso x gn reader #gn reader x character #cobra kai netflix #xu's fics

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aydaptic · 3 months

Note

I don’t know if you’ve ever been asked or addressed this but what attracted you to reed900 and what is it about r9 that you love and keeps you shipping it?

Short answer(s)

Fan art initially attracted me to the ship (...and then I started analyzing it in detail to find many other reasons to like it)

I love the potential of the interesting/unique conflicts between them

I keep shipping Reed900 bc it brings me happiness + there are not nearly enough in-character/canon compliant portrayals out there

Long answer(s)

As I'm sure you know, I'm a huge canon Gav fan. It made me want to create content for him, delve deeper into his character, study him, etc. Nevertheless, my true creative passion lies in romance... so naturally, I needed someone to pair him with.

I started looking at the characters in the game that I had encountered, but literally no one would be a nice/logical fit for him. I considered simply creating an OC -- Craig Adler for those familiar with my A&E story (WebComic | Written) -- and going from there. Less ppl (if any) would give a shit if I committed to that OC being Gav's main love interest, but I write for myself. Not others. So it wasn't an issue.

After my 1st exposure to the full game, I researched several endings bc the world intrigued me. That's when I came across Niner. Like all humans, I can be a bit shallow at times. I wanted the best for Gav and didn't find Niner attractive enough to be with him (sue me, lol.)

I then came across some incredible Reed900 fan art and I started to put aside my shallowness. I don't find Niner ugly -- he's average at best -- but he suffers from Baby Face Syndrome™ and it unnerved me a bit. Not only that, but I've always disliked Con... so I had to teach myself to see them as individuals. Niner isn't Con. They couldn't be more different personality-wise and the writers have confirmed this.

That said, I started seeing the immense potential for the interesting conflicts between Gav/Niner in particular and how to solve them.

Enemies to Lovers, in general, is my favorite trope

Niner is an android and Gav hates androids

Niner shares Con's face and Gav hates Con

Niner isn't a doormat and Gav likes bossing ppl around

Niner can easily take the job Gav is terrified to lose

Niner was (back then) a blank slate

At the time, I could mold Niner into whatever I wanted without worrying about disrespecting the source material/canon. I was shocked to learn that the overall way I envisioned him (not likable, not sweet, but intimidating and scary) was canon. That encouraged me to create more Reed900 content bc I felt like I 'got' these characters.

As for why I keep shipping them?

At a foundational level, it's bc Reed900 makes me happy. I love their love and adore the relationship dynamic I've envisioned for them (enemies to lovers, power couple, bickering, mutual respect, challenging each other, playfulness, not afraid to tell each other off, etc.) There are also not enough Canon Compliant fan works -- 99.99% of the Reed900/Gav/Niner content out there is concerningly OOC -- and I'm trying to remedy that the best I can. I've grown to care for Niner at this point, too.

I love the boys just as much now as I did back then, so I don't see myself stopping to create content for them at this rate.

#dbh #reed900 #gavin reed #rk900 #900gavin #gavin900 #900reed #g9 #detroit: become human #long post #Q&A #anonymous #*aydaptic

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jyx-ns · 2 years

Text

having fun with character (part 1)

i literally don't know what type this is, short scenarios or something

ch: sano manjiro "mikey", matsuno chifuyu, hanemiya kazutora, kurokawa izana, haruchiyo sanzu, mitsuya takashi

second pov, semi content warning: penetration for reader, there's tears, rough and soft intimate moments, laughing during seggc time, tall reader is a yes, you have large boobs too, gotta consensually suffocate em somehow, tiny character but like also cute, semi-public not really but yes, sub reader idk, just having fun, lowercase intended, don't know which timeskip! mikey to put, all characters here are their future selves, so as in all of em are above 18, unintended favoritism *wink* *wink*

sano manjiro mikey

you were so close, so so close

to turning to your side to reach for your phone at the nightstand as your lovely boyfriend had his fun. smiling fondly at him as he had his eyes closed and setting a horrible rhythm of his hips.

"why can't i-"

getting cut off with a moan when you squeeze your walls. he looked down where you two were connected then pulled out and cums dripped down onto the bedsheets, his cum. rubbing his shoulders in a comforting act, pulling his upper body to your chest.

"you never finished your sentence, baby."

you coo at him and were able to reach down to tap his tip. red and tiny. a sudden whimper had you smiling. flipping your position and looking down at his cute cock, cooing more at him as he squirmed at your sudden action to cup it between your dominant hand.

“don’t tell me you can’t speak now?”

leaning down to give a lick along his cock, it would make sense, you two had been at it since 10, it's now 2 in the morning, and not once has he made you cum. you could see his chest heave as you took his cock in your mouth. Swirling your tongue and one of his hands' grip onto your head. displeased when he pulled harshly, pinching his smooth milky thighs.

“i’m gon-”

he can’t finish his sentences again, and let out a sob when you toyed with his balls. tilting your head with his dick still in your mouth when you felt nothing in your mouth. he’s crying and twitching as you hum.

this is going to be fun.

matsuno chifuyu

you were on all fours on the floor facing a mirror you would use to check your outfits for the day. your boyfriend was behind you with a red face as he fucked into you. ah, he looked so handsome like this, even if you couldn’t see his eyes as they were blocked by his dark bangs. my my, didn’t you have an amazing boyfriend to follow with new things.

letting a moan slip out, of course you will. there was your boyfriend, naked and toned, his hands on your hips with a grip that can leave marks, his ever “quiet” moans, his small dick in you with a vibrating cock ring placed on. he’s a good boy. he’s your puppy, and he loved to please you before he can please himself.

“you’re such a good boy.”

pausing to take a breath to say your words. looking at him through the mirror, he looked up then placed his chest on your back. hearing his quiet thank you’s, and you can’t get enough. he moved his right arm to play with your clit and you hummed out. pleased with his actions. looking down at the remote and went to turn it off, he’s been good and deserves a reward for the good behavior, but being the dumb puppy that he also was, he gave a harsh thrust, and instead of turning it off, it had gone to the highest setting.

sucking in a breath when even you could feel the vibrations as he cried and stopped moving his hips for a moment. widening your eyes since he pushed your upper body down and continued fucking you. turning your head to see him crying, drooling, and babbling. taking a second to compose yourself when the new pace felt amazing.

“let me cum, please! let me cum, please! please!”

ah, he’s such a good boy, your good boy. your dumb good boy.

hanemiya kazutora

normally you would have the night lamp on when you two got into the mood. but he was needy, far too needy to let anything happen but trying to get you naked from the waist down.

pulling his hair to let you breathe, a string of saliva formed between you two as you pulled apart. gasping as he pushed you down onto your back, raising a brow noticing he hadn’t completely taken his pants off.

“what’s the hurry, baby?”

rubbing his cheek with a hand and he leaned onto your palm before blinking and shaking his head. he was frowning and you, unfortunately, smiled at remembering what happened earlier. poor, poor him. it wasn't your intention to rile him up, but all is good when you can take care of him.

rough gasps left his lips as he dragged his lips down your torso, his hands moving to take off the piece of clothing. normally he would have paused and do whatever he felt like doing, like licking you through your underwear which was always more of a punishment for him rather than you.

but today, your lovely baby decided to yank your precious underwear, that he gifted you on a random day, off yourself. retaliating by pulling the strands of hair behind his head. a shuddering moan and him slipping right in, his cum from before acting as odd lubricate, was all the reaction you needed to locking your legs over his hips.

how unfortunate of him to act like as needy as he is now when not too long ago you already played with your baby. smiling and softly laughing at his desperate acts to relieve only himself, you hummed as you brought his head to your chest. holding his head there and his hips stuttered.

feeling his cum drip as he pulls out without ever lifting his head.

"so, so good of you."

giving the top of his head a few kisses, not making a move to raise your arms.

hi! i don't know when i am to start on part 2, but this will have to do for now

also a few of the tags above the first image are meant for part 2, but whateves

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apolloanddaphnis · 11 months

Text

Speaking in Tongues

Part I

Disclaimer: Not proofread and inappropriate content I guess.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Minka's POV

I never tire of premieres. In high school everyone looked forward to the prom, why they looked forward to seeing all your peers on a Saturday, finding the ugliest dress in the store and being monitored by teachers while horrible music played was beyond me. Even in my adolescence I fantasized of premieres instead, spending forever in mamusia's room putting on her makeup and perfume, her dresses and pretending to be interviewed by E! and whoever was hosting the Oscars or the Academy Awards.

My favorite part was always choosing what to wear, fashion is like art to me. You don't just choose what looks cute you choose a palette, a theme, what will make your body flow and strut naturally. It is choosing your personality and displaying your interests, even a simple pair of nomination jeans with a t shirt and a pair of docs decide what you feel for that person and who they are.

I'm the only celebrity without a stylist, dressing myself and doing my hair and makeup is an emotional thing for me, maybe it's the punk rock roots from my now teaching father, but I don't even go to get my hair done. My signature black, bob is of my doing.

It's why there's so much footage of me on camera weeping whenever my ensemble is complimented, I put so much thought and heart into it.

Tonight, beside my friend and director, James, presenting the premiere of Spellbound at the Houdini mansion, I was Minka Farrah, but I was Minka Farrah inspired by Miranda, my malevolent two faced witch, the character I played in the film.

It was a risk to wear the gloves but once I slid them on, it made my Morticia tight dress pop, and with their occult imagery they too told the story. No one could hardly believe I had bought them off etsy, handcrafted and one of a kind, I made sure to heavily promote the artist behind them.

I felt so much worry and anxiety with this movie, like any remake. Yes the name is a tad different and James added and took away some things but, it's a classic, a niche cult classic, but a classic all the same. I worked so hard to be the perfect Miranda, taking from the original played by the late Kelly Preston, I also took inspiration from Lisle von Rhuman, and funny enough Miranda from the film Miranda about the mermaid. I was ridiculously overjoyed with the wonderful feedback I got in return.

I was on cloud nine tonight, and then my confidence faded when Tom told me Timothée Chalamet was here tonight. I nearly threw up, that wicked Saxon, he knows the crush I harbor for the greatest actor of our generation. Longing was more a fitting word. He's the first boy in a while who's made me feel…well to not put it lightly, horny, the word ecstasy, inadequate, and…longing, all at once. I don't just want him to hold my throat during a movie, I don't just want him to fill anything considered a hole in me, I don't just want to talk about our influences, I want him to consume me and devour me.

I have never met him, ever. But my brother, Stone, one day mentioned me as his favorite actor or actress of all time on Graham Norton's Show, and at the time I had no idea who he was. So Stone put on Call Me by your Name, and then showed me his Tumblr and the entire Chalaverse and I was hooked. I was very judgmental before watching his Little Women Christian Bale was the only Laurie for me I swore by him, but Timothée Chalamet ruined that for me. I think I went crazy for him watching him play Laurie.

And he's so gorgeous, long and tall and lean, I love skinny partners because it makes their shoulders and hands look even bigger, not the only reason but it's a major one. His hair is romantic and long and curly and just.. he's perfect, his mannerisms his voice, he has me hooked. And to hear that he's here…I mean it makes sense, he's Tom's friend.

I hoped I looked good enough, when I think of him I feel too big for my hair…what if he likes long hair on girls…thankfully there was another photo op with James to distract me, I felt in my element until I turned around to whoever asked for my attention. "Yes?" I still wore a red painted smile laced with a laugh, and when I turned around it fell the mask fell because there he was, and looking at him and smelling his cologne and knowing he approached ruined my Agent Provocateur thong.

I was breathless, speechless. I said nothing and just nodded with a smile.

He tugged his bottom lip in with his teeth and I stared for a moment. "I thought y-you w-were– I mean–" he laughed breathily and ran a hand through his messy curls and I felt light headed. I sucked on my lip and he stared at me for a moment and I must have looked confused because he started to talk again.

''I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'll uh– I'll leave you alone." Before I could even scream for him to stop saying that I never want him to leave me alone, he walked away disappearing in the sea of tuxedos and gowns. What did I say?

Feeling disappointed, I made a beeline to the wine, I had the bartender fill up my glass all the way to the top with red champagne. My favorite, Chandon's red champagne, was a Shiraz of strawberry, raspberry, and cherry notes. It was my absolute favorite and right now I was going down as much as I could to forget how I ran off Timothée Chalamet.

Did I offend him? What was it?

Two glasses of red Chandon later we were heading to the after party at Chateau Marmont .

I was in the middle of talking to Lana when Tom walked up to me. "Hey, what did you do to Timothée?"

I looked confused. I felt confused. "I didn't say one word to him."

''Exactly!"

I furrowed my brows "Tom, sweetie I'm not following."

Tom laughed. "He thinks he offended you or annoyed you. But knowing how you feel about him, it's all starting to make sense." He smirked.

"Oh my God, shut up!" I squealed, which made him laugh louder. "I'll go talk to him, God he must think I'm such a snob!" Why did I have to get starstruck?

"No, no, he just thinks…." But Tom stopped himself, trailing off. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. "Tom…"

Lana laughed. "Oh I think I know…" She and Tom exchanged a look and a brow waggle before laughing and I let out a cry of frustration. "I hate you both, tell me right now!"

They just laughed harder and I shook my head. "Whatever, I'm going to apologize, do I look okay?" I gestured to my ensemble, honestly no one can say I didn't stick with the theme of the movie, it was an ode to Matt and Miranda's bdsm scene when she gave Matt the false sense of hope that he was in charge of their "relationship". It's a black latex suit, arm, body neck, everything covered, even had on fetish boots, but my breasts were completely out and my nipples covered with black latex pasties to match my black painted lips.

Tom choked on his drink as Lana eyed me with a slow and appreciative nod. "Minka bloody Farrah, the only person on the entire planet that stands there posing shy and cutesy in a fucking bdsm body suit asking if she looks okay!" He laughed in disbelief.

I pouted. "A simple yes would have sufficed.'' He shook his head. "Where is he?" I asked.

"In the bathroom having a smoke." I took a deep breath, some of Tom's IPA and headed to the French styled bathroom. I knocked and a muffled "Occupied.' Spoke through the door.

"Um Timothée? It's me, uh Mink-" Before I could get my name out the door was opened and he stood there towering over me gorgeously in all his Capricorn glory, a black vintage fit blazer open, a white tooth shirt and faded jeans with combat boots, a necklace wrapped around his neck seductively and rings adorned the long, skeletal fingers that held a cigarette. He smelled like a writer, cigarettes, espresso, and alcohol. There was a spicy cologne with a hint of sweetness and a small amount of sweat. I wanted to eat him. His verdant eyes were naturally and dreamily hooded, but right now a little wide as his raspberry lips hung parted.

I blinked and bit my lip as I twisted my fingers. "I wanted to apologize, Tom told me you thought you annoyed me–"

"I'm gonna kill Tom-"

"But you didn't! I was just…I love your acting so much, I was caught off guard…I'm so sorry, I can't believe I was so rude–"

"N-No, you weren't. " He finished softly with a breathy laugh before leaning against the doorframe. Stop posing or I'll drop to my knees.

I felt elated when I noticed his eyes roam my outfit, but then a little fear lingered in those depths of satisfaction. What if he thinks I'm too easy? He probably likes classy girls, he dated Lily-Rose Depp for God's sake.

"You like my acting?" A smile tilted his lips up.

I shrugged with a smile. "You probably hear that all the time." His eyes drifted from my mouth to my pasties, maybe I should have worn something else.

But he stepped aside and gestured in. "Please, join me, there's a lovely seat on the toilet."

I giggled. "But then where will you sit?"

"In the tub of course."

@meetmyothersouls @sufferingstarlight

#timothee chamalet #timothée chalamet #timothée chalamet x oc

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 1 month

Note

Hi! Can you pretty please do a Percy x child of Hebe headcanons where they both are out of Tartarus and healing? Thanks ur the best! 💜

⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x child of hebe! reader hcs

content: percy jackson x child of hebe hcs warning: in depth conversations about trauma and all the icky stuff that surrounds tartarus author's note: a little short but so so sweet!! comfort like you've never been comforted before. this is actually such an interesting concept that i wish i could dive into with the other boys like...what would jason do in tartarus??? my fav boy leo??? franky-poo???

one year out

it's been one year since you and percy finally got out of tartarus

so why did you still feel like you were trapped down there?

the nightmares were never ending and the tears felt just as bad

it helped that percy, your beloved boy, was going through it with you too

there were nights in which he couldn't let you go, scared you'd slip away in the darkness and he'd never see you again

scared you'd fall, this time with no one to catch you

he couldn't be apart from you on this nights, even following you into the bathroom, sitting on the lip of the bathtub while he waited

it was exhausting for the both of you and you rarely got full nights of sleep anymore

so on this horrid anniversary, you and percy had a plan

you'd talk to clover over in the hypno cabin, kindly requested anything to help to the two of you sleep

he'd been more than happy to hand over his demigod level melatonin gummies, in the shape of pegasus and sheep and little lions

the two of you stocked up on favorite childhood movies, snacks, and - your favorite - coloring books

and you sat inside the poseidon cabin, determined to not be bother the whole day

every interaction with anyone outside of the pair of them would be a reminder of what day it was, which would bring all those terrible and gross feelings bubbling to the surface

and you two were determined to have a care free day, DAMN IT!

you were coloring and smiling and cuddling and just enjoying each other's presence

as a child of hebe, you loved coloring books!!

made you feel like a little kid again, that innocence of no one telling you whether or not it was good or bad.

it just was

then, as the night was coming to an end and you and percy had just started to reach for the melatonin gummies, a huge bang! rang through camp

followed by shouting, tons and tons of shouting, leo's voice easily heard above the rests

"I SAID NO, YOU LITTLE SHITS!! YOU THINK THAT'S WHAT THEY WANT?? FIREWORKS?? TO CELEBRATE WHAT, EXACTLY?? GET BACK HERE, YOU-"

your breathing had picked up and your hold on percy's bicep had tightened nearly enough to draw blood

he froze too before pulling you into his chest, shushing with a broken voice as he ran his hands through your hair

and you were getting flashbacks, your brain tricking you into thinking you were hearing rushing wind again and the way percy was holding you was just so similar and-

"breathe, y/n. it's me and you, always, but you gotta breath," percy whispered, his voice cutting through your thoughts like a sword

"okay, okay," you muttered back, resting your forehead to his chest and attempting to match him the best you could

admittedly, his breathing wasn't exactly even either, but it was better than yours

"i love you. so so much, baby." percy whispered this and similar sweet nothings into your ear, desperate to sooth you and himself

"you know, you're the best thing that ever happened to me, percy jackson," you managed to get out, looking up at him like you've never looked at him before, something more than devotion and admiration and love all combined. a look that rivaled aphrodite's definition of love

"i'd say im the luckiest guy in the world to have a girl as precious as you by my side. i- i don't deserve-"

"don't you dare. not today, percy, not today of all days," you cut in, shaking your head against his chest.

and percy could breath again, unknowingly needing that reassurance more than anything on that day

that cursed day that they were determined to stain with good memories, memories so fond and love-soaked that the bad ones simply faded away.

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #hoo #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader

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flyingspicerack · 1 year

Note

NO UR OKAY IM THE SAME WAY uhhh gimme like. What mao does in downtime? how she gets along w/ the other matsus?

UAH OK OK OK this is going under cut cause i wrote LOTS

(also just letting u know they use they/them pronouns)

Mao is kind of a closeted otaku, or former? They were a hikikomori/shut-in for almost a decade and while they were in solitude, they were very much into anime and manga, idols, video games and MMOs. So, nowadays, they'll still watch anime and play video games but not to that same extreme. They have one craft hobby that they're not very good at and its needle felting, they love doing it despite nothing ever turning out good and constantly stabbing their fingers.

SO THE MATSUS WOAH MOMMA (Ill be 100% honest, I haven't gotten far enough into development/writing my fic to that Mao has fleshed out relationships with the other boys (its a slow/mid-burn and they hardly know the boys outside of Ichi at the point I'm at rn) so im gonna write how their relationships are now and how i hope i might be able to mold them in the future)

Osomatsu They atm don't have much of a dynamic, he's one of the brothers they know the least, but they've picked up that he's a bit cheeky and... not abrasive, maybe a little pushy? But not in a bad way, a neutral way. In the future, I do really want them to be closer, specifically I want to explore how the two would be drunk together. Mao doesn't drink often because, like Ichi, they're a lightweight but they'll get carried away and also tend to black out, so they don't. BUT they also get a lot more loosey goosey and are a bit more silly and confident, and deep down they're kinda vulgar so I think they'd be able to drunkenly joke together? NOT SURE YET.

Karamatsu OK So this is the dynamic I haven't touched on AT ALL, so I am really at a loss... I think they would find him funny in an ironic kind of way. I think they would want to genuinely be nice to him and encourage him, but would see how Ichi seems to think he's 'cringe' and would probably be like "aw, c'mon Ichimatsu, let him cook' or something to that effect. They're also jealous of the fact he can like, sparkle and shit.

Choromatsu OKAY OKAY AS MUCH as I dislike Choromatsu, I'm kind of excited to talk abt this. So currently they have not a CLUE abt Choro, no dynamic at all, HOWEVER!! These two have the most overlap in terms of interests (see above) so I'm genuinely excited to write how these two will interact abt otaku stuff BECAUSE they are going to rip him a fucking new one, say his fictional waifu is trash (yes i know he's mainly an idol otaku but you cant deny the fucker has some anime/light novel waifu he likes or something), and say his taste in content is sub par, but there is going to be one thing, ONE SINGLE THING that they agree on and its something they both hate and hate watch for the same reasons....

Jyushimatsu EEEEEEE SUNSHINE BOY!!!!! He's one of the ones they're had more contact with atm and they think he's absolutely delightful. They truly don't comprehend how the two are identical but are such polar opposites. Well they do, but they also kinda don't (they're an only child) and they think that their friendship/brother ship is so cute. Jyushi is also the only one Ichimatsu brings up in conversation /pos, any of the others he'll complain about. Mao thinks he is so silly goofy and admires his baseball autism passion. I want them to be closer and sillier friends, like one of Mao's favorite things to do is laugh, and yes Ichi makes them laugh in his own way, but Jyushi's way of doing it is different, not better, different.

Todomatsu He's a bitch. A total... little .... bitch. So, atm, Mao thinks he's a little knife cat bitch who uses his cuteness to manipulate, but ultimately these two are gonna get along great... eventually.... I just don't know how.... Something something fashion, something something hair (I kinda wanna steal/incorporate @ oh-gh0st's headcanon that Totty is into doing hair stuff) so I think he would help them bleach and dye their roots when they come in? Maybe?? I dunno I also just see them gossiping together... about something... i dunno

BUT THATS IT!! THANK YOU

#uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh yeah thank you sm for asking #i love answering this shit so if you ever have the dseire to send motre im always open #i also know reading fic isnt for everyone so i am always down to just answer shit and talk abt whatever...#THANK YOU THANK YOU #spice.ask #spice.ososan #mao

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satansapostle6 · 5 months

Text

folie à deux

Sometimes poison is sweet.

Selina Romanov and Draco Malfoy met when they were only eleven years old. The two of them have always shared an intense bond, always having gravitated towards one another. But the question still remains, as the years pass by, is their connection one of passion, or delusion?

Warnings: Contains Mature Themes/Language, Themes Such As Sexual Content, Violence, Abuse, Sexual Assault, Eating Disorders

Eighteen.

Selina could say without a doubt that Jasper Carroll was the first person she'd ever loved. They had a genuine relationship, and she got to know him and care for him like none of the other boys who'd looked at her the way he did. Everyone looked at Selina, but no one ever saw.

Jasper made Selina feel things she'd thought were only spoken about in fairy tales. He gave her a new perspective on things. She was in love with him, in a way she never thought she could be in love with anyone. Any room without Jasper in it was empty. He was not just a boyfriend, but a best friend. In a way, he was everything. And when he became just another person in the world who doubted her, it hurt.

She hadn't even spoken to him at all since the argument she'd had with him and everyone else in her life. She didn't know how to. She'd spent the entire day completely alone, and the only place that felt safe was the lake, which was where she'd hidden after finishing her studies alone in the library. She spent hours sitting on a tree stump by the lake, her favorite spot, which was why it was fairly easy for Draco to guess where she had gone.

Jasper had also had an inkling as to where she'd been, but decided it would be best to allow her some space after everything she'd been through. That, and he felt that all he would do now was make things a thousand times worse.

"Hey," Draco Malfoy said as he sat down near her.

She looked at him, trying to discern his reason for approaching her.

"You come here to see if I'm going to drown myself?" Selina asked softly, choosing to look out at the water.

"I came here to sit," he told her, doing the same respectively. "I have enough on my own plate, you know."

She didn't say anything to him, approving of the interaction.

"Pansy's driving me fucking insane," he said, completely unprompted.

Selina finally looked at him, knowing what to do at least with this problem.

"What is it now?" she asked.

"She thinks I fancy Daphne," Draco responded irritably, "Which is insane."

"Why does she think that?" his friend asked promptly.

"I don't know, she thinks I talk to her too much. But I've had, maybe, three conversations with her in the past week. And they weren't long! One of them was for Potions!" he exclaimed in frustration.

"Did you tell her that?" Selina clarified.

"A hundred fucking times, but she never listens," he answered.

"Maybe just tell her you need her to listen, about this, and other things," she suggested. "I don't know. Maybe I'm not the person to be coming to for relationship advice at the moment," she sighed in defeat.

Draco looked at her with concern.

"Why? You and Carroll okay?" he inquired.

"As of right now, I don't exactly know," Selina admitted. "He doesn't think I have things under control."

"That's a bit dramatic," Draco provided with a scoff. "But either way, I never liked him in the first place," he reminded her.

She shook her head, just ignoring his childishness.

"I don't know what to do, Draco," she confessed, a strange calmness in her voice.

Draco thought for a second.

"Do you need to do anything right now?" he questioned.

"No," she considered lightly.

"Then, don't," he offered, seeming equally done with his own problems.

Selina looked down at her feet, realizing he was actually right about this. No one was forcing her hand, at least not at the moment. As far as she was concerned that day, and that peaceful moment by the lake, was all hers.

She spent quite a while staring out at the calm waters, hardly paying any mind to Draco as he left, presumably to go find Pansy, or Crabbe and Goyle(most likely Crabbe and Goyle). Selina was far from being happy that day, but something about the way she had reminded herself of the fact that, although she couldn't totally eliminate it, she was still at least in control of her own suffering. And if she felt the urge to suffer alone down by the lake, far away from anyone else, then so be it.

She didn't return to the castle until it was time for dinner, and even then, she was still fifteen minutes late. As she entered the Great Hall, she quietly took her seat between Jasper and Blaise Zabini, not saying a word to anyone. The only people who seemed to really look up when she sat down were Jasper, Amana, and Draco.

They watched with trepidation as Selina gingerly piled a small amount of food onto her plate, picking at it rather conservatively. No one said anything, because they hardly knew what would've been acceptable.

"Are you alright, Selina?" Jasper asked her.

She didn't know why, exactly, but this, instinctively, made her blood boil just a little bit. She cleared her throat lightly, and allowed herself to breathe before she answered the question.

"I'm fine," she assured him.

He wasn't assured by this, of course, and continued to sneak glances at her as he ate with everyone else. Jasper treaded lightly, not knowing what was going through her head.

"I, erm... I'm sorry about yesterday," he leaned in so that it was a private apology between the two of them.

Selina stopped for a second, having been forced to think back on the fight they'd gotten in the night before.

"It's fine," she told him, hoping that he'd drop it and move on.

Everyone else's conversations carried on around them, but Jasper didn't seem to have any interest in joining them yet.

"No, it's not," he said gently.

Selina swallowed her genuine discomfort. Everyone else seemed to be slowly picking up on the tension between the couple.

"It's fine, Jasper," she said firmly, "Now, can we please just move on?"

She was desperate to talk about something else, anything else. Amana and Draco both noticed the same thing.

"Selina, I'm just trying to apologize to you," Jasper continued. "How I behaved... It wasn't fair."

"No, it wasn't," she remarked ironically, "And it still isn't. Now, please, let's just talk about something else."

He still wasn't pleased with this response. Draco and Amana both felt aimless and awkward in the conversation, not knowing whether they needed to intervene, or simply fade into the background at the moment.

"Are you sure you're okay with it?" Jasper asked with a lack of confidence in the situation.

"Yes," she told him, her eyes telling him not to bring it up anymore.

"The first task is coming up," Pansy Parkinson blurted out suddenly, stating the obvious.

She had to do something to ease the tension. Everyone looked at her in horror, worrying that her decision to join the conversation could ultimately have horrific repercussions for everyone else. Draco just looked at his girlfriend, too nervous to come up with a casual response.

"Yes! It is," Amana attempted to salvage the polite dinner table conversation. "I'm kind of rooting for Potter, if I'm being honest."

"Potter?" Draco chimed in in disgust. "For what reason?"

Selina looked down at her plate, satisfied that the conversation at the table had at least somewhat reverted back to normal.

"Come on, Draco, he might be a Gryffindor, but he's also in our year," Amana reasoned.

"Yeah, because he cheated!" Pansy scowled.

"Come on, Pans, you don't honestly believe Potter could've successfully fooled Dumbledore and the Cup," Blaise rolled his eyes. "It's completely ridiculous."

"I'll tell you what's ridiculous," Draco snarled with envy, "Out of everyone in our year, all the people our age, Potter's the one who gets chosen. Isn't he always chosen?!"

"Draco, being chosen for this Tournament as a fourteen year-old isn't necessarily a good thing," Amana frowned.

"The hell it isn't! Potter made the front page!" Pansy cried in outrage.

"When does he not?" Draco Malfoy scoffed.

Selina just sat there, taking in the entire conversation as she tried to drown out herself. But still, her thoughts were too loud, and she was too aware. She could feel herself starting to lose control of everything. She felt as if she was quickly disappearing, and she if she could stop it, or if she even wanted to. In that moment, she certainly didn't.

"Hey. Selina. Look at me," Jasper whispered, looking at his girlfriend. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Selina stopped dead, breathing in slowly as she dropped her fork. The others exchanged looks of fear and anticipation as they dreaded whatever her reaction was going to be. No one knew what was going to happen after that, but they could all see her hands trembling.

"Oh, fuck," Draco murmured.

"He did it," Blaise agreed, seeming unimpressed and underwhelmed.

"And now, we're all fucked," Draco completed the sentence.

He felt that the situation now had only one direction to go in.

"Stop asking me if I'm okay," Selina told him frustratedly.

Jasper wasn't entirely receptive to this new idea.

"Selina, baby, I'm just trying to help," he promised her.

"And if I wanted your help, you'd know, wouldn't you?" she pointed out curtly.

Everyone sitting around them at the Slytherin table was uncomfortable. Draco, Amana, and Blaise anxiously waited for the other shoe to drop, while Pansy and Daphne exchanged concerned looks, and Crabbe and Goyle silently ate their dinner.

"Please, just let me fix this!" Jasper pleaded.

Selina's patience quickly wore thin.

"There's nothing to fix!" she shouted over him. "I don't care anymore! Now just eat your food."

"I know that's not true," he responded sadly.

"Fuck! Will you just stop telling me what I think!" she exclaimed, only seeming stressed out by his attempts at diplomacy.

Pansy looked over at Amana as she tried to figure out how to respond, but Amana wouldn't look up from her plate.

"I'm not trying to tell you how to feel," Jasper promised his girlfriend.

"Then why don't you listen to me when I tell you you are?!" Selina demanded.

"Selina," he murmured, uncomfortably exchanging glances with the rest of their friends, "Let's go out in the hall, come on..."

"No! You wanted to have this conversation right now, so we're having it right now!" she declared spitefully, throwing her fork down in a fit of rage.

She looked at him with tears in her eyes, shaking and trembling with anger. She couldn't control herself any longer. It seemed everyone was ultimately expecting her to go off the rails, so she figured there'd be no harm in actually doing so at this point.

"Everyone thinks I'm going insane because of my mother dying, or what happened with Flint, or my grandmother killing herself, but really, it all happened to me!" she cried out impatiently. "I have to live with it all, and all anyone wants me to do is things that make it so much more difficult for me!"

Just about everyone was staring down at their plates, praying they wouldn't make eye contact with her. Much like with a wild animal, eye contact could mean a new target.

"Fuck you!" Selina sniffled, rambling incoherently. "Fuck you all!"

Draco winced out of fear, his eyes still locked on the table as Selina angrily stormed out of the Great Hall, which everyone around them had witnessed. Jasper looked around the Slytherin table, trying to find someone who would at least meet his gaze. They could still hear Selina yelling as she ran out of the room.

"Fuck you!"

"Should I... Should I go after her?" he asked with uncertainty.

Everyone looked at him in shock. Blaise and Amana both glared at him in disbelief.

"Really?" Pansy questioned irritably. "Are you fucking daft?"

No one said anything else. They found that what she said just about covered it.

*****

Selina Romanov ended up hiding away somewhere in the castle the way she usually did when she found she didn't feel safe near anyone. She felt pretty embarrassed by her hysterical screaming fit in the Great Hall, although she didn't find that she necessarily regretted it. She'd been angry at Jasper, and in general, and releasing that pent up energy felt cathartic, however misplaced it might have been.

Selina knew she should've felt a lot more sorry for the scene she'd caused, and her abysmal behavior, but she couldn't help but at least appreciate the fact that she felt fairly calm after the fact, something which she knew she could only be grateful for. Peace didn't come easily to her anymore.

"Romanov?"

Selina looked up from the floor, where she was resting her arms on her knees to shield herself from the rest of the world.

"Freddie," she spoke up, quickly sniffing and wiping away her smeared eyeliner.

"You know I hate it when anyone who's not George calls me that," he reminded her, deciding to take a seat beside her on the ground.

She didn't respond, awkwardly looking down at the stone floor. She didn't know what to say to anyone at the moment.

"What's the matter?" Fred Weasley asked thoughtfully. "You get into it with Jasper?" he guessed.

"I got into it with everyone," she replied.

"Hmm," was all he had to say.

"You ever do the same thing?" she asked him curiously.

Fred shrugged. "I find it to be a sometimes useful exercise," he said indifferently as he looked at her. "Did they deserve it?"

It was her turn to shrug nonchalantly. "I don't know," she admitted.

"Fair enough," he nodded appreciatively. "Not to interrupt your sulking, but some of us are going night swimming, if you feel like joining."

"'Night swimming'?" Selina repeated skeptically.

Fred nodded. "Yeah."

"Who's all going?" she inquired curiously. "Gryffindors?"

"Yeah, a bunch. George and Lee are coming, Angelina's coming... Even Harry agreed to come for a bit," he told her.

"I don't know," Selina sighed, not feeling particularly social at the moment.

"There's going to be a little bit of everyone, though. George and Lee helped me get it together last minute during dinner. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students are coming, too," he informed her. "You can talk to, or not talk to, whoever you want."

"Okay, fine, I'll come," she relented, finally getting up off the floor, "Let me get my clothes."

"I'm coming with you," Fred insisted.

"What?" she scoffed.

"So you don't crawl off to bed!" he pointed out. "You have to come tonight. George said so. Kelly did too, which, come to think of it, is actually way more horrifying."

"Okay, fine," she sighed as he followed her to the dungeons, "But you're not coming into the common room."

"Why not?" Fred pouted.

"Because, somehow, I think that'd make me a blood traitor, and I'd never hear the end of it," she groaned.

As Selina uttered the password to the Slytherin common room, she turned to see Fred standing behind her, a playful expression on his face as he puffed out his lip, hoping she'd cave.

"Fred. You're not coming in," she said sternly.

"Please?" he begged eagerly.

Fred ran in place impatiently, pleading with her to allow him to accompany her inside.

"Ugh, fine! Just stay with me, and don't touch anything!" she commanded.

"Yes, milady," he quipped.

Selina frowned as she snuck Fred into the Slytherin common room behind her. Fortunately for them, dinner hadn't ended yet, and no one was inside. She led him towards the girls' dormitories, to the room she shared with Amana.

"I better not catch you trying to get in here ever again," Selina warned.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it!" he feigned innocence.

Selina stepped inside the room, about to close the door before he stopped her.

"Hey! You can't just leave me out here!" Fred complained.

"Fred! I'm changing!" she argued.

"Well, obviously I wasn't going to look!" he reasoned. "What if someone sees me?!"

"Okay, you go wait in the room," Selina rolled her eyes as she shoved him through the door. "I'll change in the bathroom."

After Selina emerged from the bathroom with a bikini on underneath her clothes, she and Fred eventually left the Slytherin dorms together, leaving through the common room. Just when Selina thought they'd left undetected, a looming ghost blocked their way.

"Oh, bloody hell," Fred Weasley muttered under his breath

A tall, translucent figure blocked their path, an angry-looking, blood-soaked nobleman who had died sometime during the eleventh century. The Bloody Baron, the ghost of Slytherin house, as well as the only person, dead or alive, who could successfully control Peeves.

"Baron," Selina greeted him formally.

"Is that a Gryffindor I see?!" the ghost demanded, a menacing expression on his face.

Selina tried to calm him, speaking to him as respectfully as possible. "Just passing through, sir."

"Hmm," the specter glared down at her, his cold, dark eyes burning into her, "I will allow it. But only because you have honored the noble House of Romanov."

"Thank you, Baron," Selina entertained him, rushing past him with Fred as quickly as possible.

"He's a bit intense, isn't he?" he thought pleasantly.

"Draco's terrified of him," she told him, "But he'll deny it."

"Hmm. Good to know," he thought mischievously.

They both headed out of the castle, sneaking out with the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students just as everyone else did. Selina had fully committed to focusing on fun for the night, fully convincing herself that everything was fine.

"So... How are you and Angelina?" Selina asked Fred, who looked down at her suspiciously.

"Friends. Why do you ask?" he questioned cautiously.

"Just curious," she promised lightheartedly. "You just... seem to like spending time with her, that's all."

His demeanor softened as he realized she was trying to have a genuine, friendly conversation with him.

"I do," Fred agreed, thinking about Angelina Johnson for a moment. "I like her. She's... She's cool, and she's kind, and she's pretty," he confessed.

Selina just smiled, finding his thoughts about her endearing.

"I've never really said that out loud to anyone before," he told her awkwardly.

"Maybe you should say it to her," she suggested helpfully.

Fred chuckled. "Maybe."

"I'm serious," she told him, "I think it would go well."

He paused, looking at her as they headed for the Durmstrang boat. "You do?" he asked, his interest piqued.

"Of course it would. You're Fred and Angelina," she reminded him. "You belong together. And you really like each other. Everyone sees it. Even on the pitch."

"Do they?" he laughed softly.

"Yes," Selina promised. "She clearly likes you. You should ask her out."

"Maybe I will," he responded, seeming encouraged.

She nodded as they walked together in silence, comfortable with the casual conversation. Anything that had nothing to do with today's events was perfect. She felt a wave of relief washing over her as they approached the boat, surrounded by floating candles for ambient lighting. Everyone was just talking and laughing, no matter whether they were from Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, or Durmstrang.

Selina felt no particular allegiance to anyone, seeing as Jasper and Amana didn't come, believing her to be in the dorms. Selina felt she was free to join whichever conversation she pleased. She and George had encouraged Fred to go and talk to Angelina one-on-one, which was objectively adorable to watch.

Some people were actually swimming, but most people were just standing around on the boat, talking. Selina saw Kelly with her own friends, and decided she didn't feel like interacting with them. She was just too exhausted. She was eventually able to locate Blaise, who was standing somewhere awkwardly across the dimly lit boat with Draco and Pansy, who didn't seem to be getting along very well at the moment. Ignoring her own best interests, Selina made a beeline for them, until she was suddenly interrupted by someone else.

"Hello, Selina Romanova."

Startled, she defensively turned to see one of the Durmstrang boys trying to get her attention. Henryk Checinski, the delusional boy who just had to have her.

"Henryk," she sighed, her patience quickly waning, "I'm really not in the mood today."

"Then allow me to get you in the mood," he smiled, offering her his hand.

"I'd rather not," she told him as bluntly as possible.

"Come. Dance with me," he urged her.

"There's... no music," Selina replied uncomfortably.

"We'll make our own," he insisted.

"...No."

She didn't know how much clearer she could get.

"Selina. Please. Allow me the chance to woo you," he invited her.

"My boyfriend does that just fine on his own, thanks," she reminded him with a sarcastic smile.

Henryk wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. "Please. Just one dance—"

"She said 'no'," another voice cut in.

Selina whipped around to see that Harry had actually seen what was going on, having been extremely antisocial at the gathering himself. He rushed to her side chivalrously, instinctively positioning himself in front of her. Henryk seemed surprised by this; it seemed completely unwarranted to him.

"My friend doesn't want to dance with you," Harry Potter said firmly, not far off from drawing his wand. "Leave her alone."

Henryk was surprised by the intervention from the younger boy, and was confused by the fact that he was the person who needed defending against in this scenario.

"Of course. My apologies," he said quickly, walking away with his tail between his legs as Harry watched him to make sure he left.

Selina turned to Harry, appreciative of the gesture.

"Thank you. I could've handled it, you really didn't have to do that," she thanked him.

Harry, obviously also having a bad day, just shook his head dismissively. "It's alright. You seemed really annoyed."

"Yes," she smiled in amusement , happy that he understood, "I was."

The boy just smiled awkwardly, and Selina realized how strange it was the last time she'd seen him. She and Draco had both been high, and as far as Harry knew, Selina was just laughing as Draco tormented him. She felt awful about it.

"Harry, I'm sorry about that day... The ferret incident?" she spoke up.

Harry just chuckled at the memory. "Why?" he asked in confusion.

"Well, I, er... Didn't want you to think I was just laughing at you, or anything. I wanted to tell Draco to stop," she confided in him before he interjected.

"It's alright," he stated. "Really."

"...Really?" she questioned, not understanding his level of empathy.

"Yeah. I know you," he shrugged.

"Right," Selina nodded, trying to think of something else to say. "I was surprised when Fred told me you were coming. I thought he was surely lying."

"Yeah," Harry murmured, looking around at everyone on the boat. "This isn't really my scene."

"It's not really mine either," she said, to his surprise. "I always just kind of end up at these things, you know?"

Harry nodded, understanding completely. "Yeah. I was just about to leave, actually," he told her.

"Oh, are you sure?" Selina asked. "You wouldn't have to be alone."

"No, it's okay," he smiled. "Thanks. I'm... pretty tired. I'll just go back to the dorms."

"Alright. Goodnight," she nodded kindly.

"Goodnight," he responded, waving at her as he walked away. "It was nice talking to you."

"You too," she murmured, somewhat reluctantly walking away to where her friends were standing.

Selina silently wished she could've left with Harry. It seemed the situation between Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson had only escalated in the past couple of minutes or so. Things were looking abysmal. Pansy was openly yelling at Draco, and based on his inherently male, nonchalant reaction, Selina could tell that he deserved it.

Blaise was just standing there behind Pansy, looking incredibly uncomfortable as he wrapped his arms around himself in a sort of self-soothing hug. He obviously did not want to be there, and Selina had no idea as to why he was. Blaise was just odd that way. It was almost as if he had an unnatural tendency to just be where the drama was, even if he didn't actually want to be. Selina stopped thinking about him when she realized just how similar they were at times.

"You know I can't understand you when you're just screaming at me," Draco said to Pansy with crossed arms, sounding almost bored, "I don't know what your problem is."

"You don't know what my problem is?!" she exclaimed in disbelief. "You were flirting with Iris!"

"No, I wasn't! Don't be ridiculous!" he groaned.

"I'm not being ridiculous! You put your hand on her shoulder, and you leaned in! You might as well have gotten her shoulder pregnant!" Pansy shouted, earning her fair share of looks.

"For fuck's sake! I couldn't hear her, so I leaned in!" Draco shouted. "And why couldn't I hear her?! Because you were fucking screaming at me!"

"Why do you need to hear her so bad, hmm?!" his girlfriend demanded.

"I'm not talking to you when you're fucking like this," he muttered.

"There we have it! Typical Draco! Always ending the conversation when I'm right!" she spat.

"I'm ending this conversation because you're fucking insane!" he yelled back at her.

Selina felt herself already developing a migraine somehow. To her right was a large group of older Durmstrang boys, who, she realized, were passing around a flask, each of them taking outrageous swigs from it. She noticed they'd been doing the same thing for a while now, which led her to believe that it was most likely enchanted.

Taking a moment to ease into her girlish charm, Selina innocently crept up behind them, inserting herself into the circle of boys as she sweetly batted her eyelashes.

"Hi," she murmured, getting all of their attention. "What are you all up to?" she asked.

A few of them were immediately taken with her, and directed all of their attention toward her.

"Just talking," one of them said in a German accent.

"Can I see that?" she asked nicely, looking down at the silver flask in his hand.

He smiled, completely disarmed by her. "Y-Yeah. Here," he handed it to her.

She tossed her head back, preparing herself for the worst as she poured the liquor down her throat, fully committing to the decision. She found it to be sickly sweet and bitter at the same time, tasting like black licorice and death. She tried her best not to vomit as she drank from the flask, all of the boys watching her in awe. This continued for far too long.

"Thank you," Selina handed it back, smiling as she scampered away.

She went back to Draco and Pansy, who both seemed terribly miserable, now somewhat prepared to deal with them.

"Fuck you!" Pansy screamed at Draco. "You think you're the only one who can flirt?! I'll show you!"

Selina and Blaise both watched in horror as Pansy ran off in search of the nearest rich Slytherin boy, being disgustingly obvious about what she was doing. Draco just scoffed in disbelief, rolling his eyes at her as he tried to play off his emotions. Selina approached him, her arms folded as she just stared at him.

"She's fucking mad," he muttered.

"What did you do to that poor girl?" Selina asked him, fully aware of the dynamic at play.

"I didn't do anything," Draco insisted as Blaise ran off to chase after Pansy, "She makes her own decisions."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Selina told him. "What did you do?" she demanded.

"Nothing," Draco insisted.

She glared straight into his blue eyes, trying to force it out of him.

"Were you flirting with that girl?" she asked, a surprising lack of anger or accusation in her tone.

Draco just shrugged forcefully, seeming defensive. "I don't know."

She took this as a 'yes'.

"Why did you do it?" Selina asked him.

"'Do' what?" he deflected stubbornly.

She frowned, genuinely irritated by his behavior. "You have a girlfriend that really cares about you. For better or for worse."

"But, she's constantly accusing me of things!" he whined. "It doesn't even matter if I actually do them or not, the end result is still the same."

His friend frowned, somewhat saddened by this look into her friend's seriously dysfunctional relationship.

"If you're not happy, then just tell her that. Don't make her end things for you, just because you can't do it yourself," she told him.

Draco refused to meet her gaze, staring down at his feet.

"Why do you even care about me and Pansy?" he demanded harshly.

"You're my friend. And you're being mean," Selina told him simply.

"It's none of your business what me and my girlfriend do," he scoffed at her.

"Fine. Don't take my advice. I don't care. Just be an arsehole to everyone, and fuck off," she frowned.

"I think I will, thank you very much," Draco said stiffly, backing away from her as he haphazardly pulled his sweater over his head.

Draco stood near the ledge with the others who were about to go swimming.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Selina sighed, watching as he left his clothes on the ledge near Crabbe and Goyle's.

"Going for a swim!" he declared.

Selina watched as he jumped off the side of the boat, diving into the water.

"What the hell...? That's too far!" she yelled at him as he swam out, further and further away from the boat.

Draco didn't respond. He simply continued swimming aggressively away from everyone else, already having gone past the people who were the farthest from the boat. Sighing, Selina looked around for her friends. It seemed Pansy was too busy trying to flirt with some fifth-year to notice that her boyfriend was actually gone, making it a completely pointless endeavor. Blaise, on the other hand, was keeping an eye on Pansy, too anxious and preoccupied with her to be of any help.

So, not seeing any other options, Selina began throwing off her own clothes as she reluctantly leapt off of the side of the boat. The water was cold, but not nearly as cold as she thought it would be. That was the one thing that brought her relief. She treaded water near the side of the boat, trying to find her friend so that she could make sure he didn't drown himself.

Sighing as she spotted a tiny crop of blond hair far off in the distance, she breathed in as she submerged herself underwater, swimming in his direction. This took a couple of minutes as Selina tried not to tire herself out. When she reached Draco, he was just treading water in the middle of the lake, staring out at the moon.

"Draco! What the fuck?!" she gasped, treading water beside him.

"You didn't have to follow me," he said petulantly.

"You barely know how to swim," Selina reminded him, "I kind of did."

"I can swim just fine," he argued begrudgingly.

"I don't even know how you managed to get all the way out here," she admitted, glancing up at the full moon.

"I'm full of surprises," his voice was saturated with sarcasm.

"You're fucking ridiculous," she told him.

"Hmm."

The more she looked at him, the more he seemed tortured by something. Not Pansy, somehow, but something. She remained silent as she floated next to him, trying to read him.

"You don't have to be here," he muttered. "You can go."

"Do you want me to?" she asked, not able to understand him at all.

Draco Malfoy didn't seem to know how to answer that question.

"I don't know why you insist upon shutting me out," she confessed her frustration. "I don't judge you. I never have. I criticize you, sure, that's what friends do, but I never judge you," she murmured.

Draco just looked at her, a wounded expression on his angular face.

"I tell you when you're in the wrong, but I never judge you. I don't know why you insist upon doing things that make me hate you," she said.

Draco looked into her blue eyes, his mouth curving in an unpleasant scowl. "I think you know why," he told her.

"No," Selina promised him, a look of frustration on her face as she vigorously kicked her feet around to keep herself afloat, "I don't. One minute we can talk about things, and the next, you forget we're friends. I don't understand it, but I know it has nothing to do with me."

He sighed exhaustedly, a begrudging regret in his eyes. "You act like it's so easy."

"Like what's easy?!" she cried.

"Us!" he exclaimed in defeat.

"You think 'us' isn't easy?" Selina demanded.

"No! It's fucking not!" he hissed.

"Why?" she sighed. "What did I do that's so horrible?!"

Draco averted his gaze, unable to answer the question.

"What are on earth do you think I did wrong for you to treat me this way?" Selina questioned. "I know we're arseholes to each other, but this is just something else entirely."

He seemed put out by this question, as if answering it was a complete hindrance to him. Selina didn't understand his angst at all, in this instance.

"Because, of how things are between us!" Draco yelled at her.

She frowned. "How are things between us?" she prompted him.

"I don't know, Selina, but I can't think when I'm around you!" he yelled at her. "Everything gets crazy when I'm around you! My heart beats too fast, and nothing makes sense! You make everything feel like it's on fire!"

"That's not an answer," she told him, trying to stifle her instinctive reaction.

"It's the only one I have!" Draco hissed, standing closer to her. "You...drive me...insane. When I look at you, I can't defend myself! I can't think straight when you're around! I look into your eyes, and I just forget, about everything! I lose myself when I'm with you, Selina."

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, Draco," she said quietly, looking at him without any discernible emotion.

"No, you're not," he said finally. "It's what you do. You love looking in everyone's direction, and making them think they have a chance just because it entertains you. You do things just because you can. And you're just like me," he said finally.

"I'm not like you," she told him.

"Like hell you aren't."

"I'm not like you, Draco," Selina said again. "I know what I'm worth. I don't have to do any of that. I know I can get whatever I want; it doesn't amuse me anymore," she admitted emptily as he looked at her.

The both of them were struggling to remain afloat while speaking to one another. Draco just stared emptily into her eyes, as she took in everything about him for the first time that night, from his wet blond hair, to his face, to his pale collarbone.

"You're the only one I can compete with. No one else is worth fighting with. Not even Pansy," Draco said suddenly. "You're the only one I see in a crowd."

"I can't be," Selina sighed. "Pansy... She loves you."

Draco seemed to wince at the mention of his girlfriend's name.

"Come on, Selina," he said quietly. "You don't care about her," he whispered.

"I don't know if I do," she admitted, "But I definitely know that I care about Jasper."

"Why?" he scoffed in disbelief.

"'Why'? Because he's my boyfriend," Selina responded.

Draco rolled his eyes childishly. "Why?" he asked again.

"I love him," Selina said, her voice dangerously quiet as she warned him.

"No," Draco told her, "You don't. He's average; he's nice, but that's it. You might care for him, but he doesn't do it for you."

"Since when do you know how I feel?" she demanded.

"Since I looked into your eyes, and saw mine," he told her. "You're just as bad as I am. Hell, you're probably worse, even if no one sees it."

"You don't even know what the fuck you're talking about," she pointed out.

"I see who you are, Selina," Draco told her. "I see how strong you are, and how powerful you are, and I don't stifle you!"

His words cut deep as she thought about what they really meant coming from him. Draco really did see a certain animosity in her that lured him in.

"That's why you act the way you act," she realized quickly. "You just fight with Pansy and ignore her so that she'll get tired of you. You're not invested in her at all; it's all just become a ploy to get to me. That's why you don't care if you lose her," she psychoanalyzed.

He said nothing, the intensity in his eyes still not fading.

"I don't give a fuck about her," Draco said through his teeth.

At this point, she couldn't tell if he was actually being truthful or not. Everything he said and did seemed meaningless now. She had no way of knowing that this wasn't another one of his ridiculous games, that he cared about her any more than he did Pansy Parkinson.

"Draco, we've known each other for quite a while," Selina said softly. "You're my friend. I'd die for you... But I don't trust you."

"No. Why would you?" he agreed. "You see yourself in me. And you hate it."

Selina couldn't even think of anything to say to that.

"Did you ever think that maybe I just hate you?" she whispered.

Draco held her steady at arms' length, half securing her so that she'd stay afloat, half forcing her to stay.

"Is it strange to want to kiss you?" he asked, his voice a heady murmur.

Selina looked at him spitefully, years of cold resentment in her gaze. Somehow, it only drew him closer. His words inspired many different feelings in her, hatred, and indignation, and anger, but the one thing that could be connected to them all was passion. Draco frustrated her to no end, he always had.

"You know I won't do that," she shook her head slowly.

"I don't think I do," he stated, a wave of confidence coming over him. "I think you want to. A part of you wants to, even if you force it down every time you remember that insipid, inadequate husk you call a boyfriend. You don't just want to kiss me again, you want to love me, even if it hurts, because you know that you'd rather scream at me than smile with him!"

"Draco, I think you're just trying to get under my skin," Selina Romanov sighed, hurt by the attempt.

"Selina, did you ever stop to think that maybe I just get under your skin?" he questioned. "I know you think about me. Even if you act like you're just cross with me, you use it as an excuse to think and me, because you're addicted, and so am I. We'd rather die than live without each other."

"That's bullshit!" she cried. "You just want to be able to say that you won me from Jasper!"

"Two things can be true at once," Draco reminded her, "Maybe you're just a trophy to me, but you'd still be the one on the top shelf."

"You disgust me," she remarked softly, not in an angry, accusatory tone, but more so in a soft and epiphanic one.

"But you love being disgusted by me," he pouted petulantly. "The only reason you bother to hate me is so you can push me to make you love me again. You'd much rather play this game with me than be happy with Jasper Carroll."

"That's not true!" Selina yelled.

"Oh really?" he asked, standing right in front of her, so close their noses almost touched. "Then why are you here, with me?"

Selina just looked at him sadly, with a strange sense of loathing.

"Why fight it? Why can't we be together, if it's what we want?" Draco questioned existentially. "Look at us, we're Selina and Draco. You always know what I'm thinking, and I always know what you're feeling. We can do whatever we want, no one's stopping us. Especially together. For all we know, it's always been about us."

"Can you really tell me that this would all even be worth it?" she asked him.

He saw the glistening pain in her eyes as she looked at him, pleading with him for an answer.

"Draco, can you honestly tell me that even if I were to just up and leave Jasper, that I'd be doing it for something equal in substance?" she scoffed. "Look me in the eyes, and tell me we could both treat each other like human beings if we were together."

Her words stung a bit as Draco couldn't help but look at her. He was starting to come down from the high of his own delusions of grandeur.

"Can you honestly say that you could see yourself telling me that you love me some day, that you care about me, me, and not just what you think I can give you?" Selina questioned. "You might think you want me, but that's also what you're afraid of. Secretly, you think the sooner you fuck things up with me, the less you'll have to worry about it. You'd ruin it if I ever gave you the chance, and you know it."

"That's not fair," he breathed, a gasp of air getting caught in his throat. "You don't know that—!"

"You know what, I shouldn't even be arguing with you about this," she decided with finality, "The bottom line is, even if I choose to sympathize with you ignore the fact that you're probably a shitty person like I usually do, you've still been shitty to me, and there's no use trying to make you be something you're not."

Draco Malfoy's brows furrowed as he struggled to keep up with her every word, trembling as he wanted so badly to tell her that she was wrong. He wanted to tell her that she was wrong, but he found that the claim would be baseless.

"I'm not playing this game with you. You can just keep being the selfish, mean person I know you are, and I'll just finally accept that. Goodnight, Draco. Find your own way back," she shook her head at him, swimming away before the situation could get any worse.

She knew that her rejection of him was moderate, to say the least, but she knew that cutting him from her life completely required a certain resolve she could hardly muster.

"Sel," he called after her, reaching but not grasping at all. "Hey. Wait."

"No, Draco," she cut him off firmly, wading towards the boat. "No."

She'd never sounded more like a disappointed parent to him. He watched her leave, and extended no quantifiable amount of remorse.

*****

Selina woke up angry. She wasn't even sure why as she first opened her eyes and sat up in her bed. The second she stepped out of bed, she couldn't contain the aggression in her every movement. She woke up before the other girls she shared a dorm with, as well as most of the girls in the Slytherin dormitories. Sleep, it seemed, was a fool's errand.

Even Selina's footsteps were unintentionally heavy, and made more of a sound than she thought was necessary. She practically stormed off to the bathroom, furiously brushing her teeth and hair as she scowled at her reflection in the mirror. Girlish narcissism was a dual-edged sword that knew the reflection staring back at her was virtually perfect, but also felt she deserved to burn for it.

Selina had the same relationship with herself that she allegedly had with Draco Malfoy; she loved thinking about herself and did it all the time, so when the usual delusions of grandeur got old, she switched things up with dysphoric self-loathing. She screamed at herself silently while she brushed mascara into her lashes, flirted with her own reflected image as she glossed her lips, imagined her own death as she sprayed on her adaptive perfume.

Knowing that she was one of the prettiest girls in the school felt to Selina like forbidden knowledge. She felt like Icarus, flying towards her own destruction. Although she tried to carry herself with moderation, Selina was also aware that she liked to be part of things that were powerful in nature. She liked being associated with anything that had to do with strength, and prestige.

It could seem to some that Selina took on traditional Slytherin values, favoring traditional Slytherin people, but this wasn't necessarily the case. Nothing about the people who most Slytherins willingly or unwillingly decided were 'powerful' or relevant inherently appealed to her. She didn't feel it was particularly necessary to befriend anyone whose family name was listed in the Sacred 28 to be considered standing on equal ground.

Selina was confident enough in other people's confidence in her to gain favor without unnecessary amounts of deception or even just effort. She knew that, no matter what she did, her name was relevant for her peers. She knew she could've dated a prince, or Jasper Carroll, and the result would've been the same.

The one thing everyone noticed when Selina Romanov and Jasper Carroll leisurely lorded over everyone in the halls together was the way they heard their eyes. It was strange, but it seemed that never once did either of them look down when they walked together. They always looked at one another, or out at nothing, and just smiled, whether they had a reason or not, almost as if they knew that nothing could possibly be so bad if they had one another.

Jasper and Selina had the kind of teen romance that made everyone jealous. There was something beautiful and understated about the way they showed their devotion to the world. What they had was so common yet unattainable, like the way Selina's perfectly manicured hand coiled around her boyfriend's arm as they walked. A couple of different students watched as Jasper placed a kiss atop her head, allowing her to head to Transfiguration with the other fourth-years.

Selina chose an empty seat beside Pansy, behind Daphne and Amana, who actually got along much better than they did before.

"How'd you do it?" Pansy Parkinson whispered, earning a confused look.

"'Do' what?" she asked.

"You know. Find a boyfriend like that," she said.

"Like what?"

She still didn't understand the question that was being asked.

"You know. A boyfriend that's so... nice," Pansy eventually settled on a word.

Selina automatically knew where the question was coming from.

"You don't find nice boys, they find you," she thought after a while.

"I wish Draco was nice," the girl mumbled to herself.

Selina considered for a moment what her contributions might be before she gauged whether or not she should open her mouth.

"You know, as a rich, pretty teenage girl, you have much better things to do than sitting around wishing a boy was nice to you," she pointed out. "Wouldn't you just rather come across someone who's already nice?"

"Someone else can be nice, but no one else can be Draco," Pansy insisted stubbornly.

Selina had to resist the urge to theatrically roll her eyes.

"If you just put as much effort into your grades as you do whatever it is you have going on with Draco, you'd test out entirely," she remarked.

"Don't be an arsehole," Pansy said dismissively.

"No, really," Selina insisted as she began to diverge, "People don't realize that perfection, living the dream, so to speak, is just a matter of manipulating things that already exist."

"I'm not following," Pansy stared at her.

"Changing your own reality, being a god, it isn't magic; it's just being efficient. You ultimately have control over any part of yourself you want. If you want something, just make yourself need it. If you want to do something, make yourself love it."

Pansy looked at her, blinking profusely in disbelief. "...Are you fucking insane?"

#draco x reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco fanfiction #hpdm #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco x reader angst

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blazekurumu · 1 year

Text

MY THOUGHTS ON TOTAL DRAMA 2023!

Hey everyone! Hope you campers are doing well today because I have a review just for you!

Total Drama is a franchise I didn't get to watch live on television. Mainly because I didn't get to see it growing up. However, that all changed when I reached high school and got majorly hooked. I liked the campers, the challenges, the wacky hijinks, the romance drama, and everything that makes the show unique. My favorite season is ROTI for a long time (Please don't hate. World Tour is a close third to the Ridonculous Race for me). All the characters, even the terrible ones, have all made quite the impression on me. For years, I've waited for new content to be uploaded, watching the stupid Dramarama, was there when Reunion shut down, and enjoy the pseudo series of Disventure Camp.

Now a new season has come out and let me be positive in saying that this was one of the best seasons in a long time.

New Chris voice? Doesn't bother me since I kinda liked the new voice direction.

All new cast instead of the old one? Thank goodness! The old cast is great, but new people are fun too! Stop whining for the old and embrace the new for a change.

Multicultural and LGBTQ rep? Sign me up! I loved Nichelle, Priya, Millie, Damien, and Bowie so much! Was surprised at the pairing of Bowie and Raj, too. Love them boys so much!

Challenges that felt different, but still stuck with the formula? Heck yeah! I loved the selfie one, the hunger one was funny, and the catapult one was so cool!

Were there negatives? Emma and Chase brought the season down sometimes. I liked Emma, but not enough to call her my favorite. She just needs to break up with that egotistical slimeball called Chase! Scary Girl being eliminated early hurt me too. She was funny. Damien got robbed, but he did that to himself.

My favorite characters made this season great for me!

Priya is my baby! She's funny, determined, and a hard worker. An athletic nerd girl to her core who trained to be on this show. I don't get the Priya hate, she's amazing! Sure she carried Millie, but that's what a girl in her shoes would do to a best friend. I liked their dynamic a lot.

Millie surprised me with how much I started to like her. She started off as a closet nerd that had a pension for being judgemental and mended her ways. Making friends with Priya was the best thing that ever happened to her. I bet she would get more love if they made her a villian.

Bowie....need I say more? He's the moment, the true villian in my opinion, and he slayed! His relationship with Raj was sweet, his friendship with Emma was funny, and his rivalry with Julia was top notch! This boy should come back for another season and kill it again!

Scary Girl aka Lauren was a fun character. A sweet little psycho who was Gothic and funny. I lived her wild card mindset of just being kooky and nutty while displaying certain strengths.

Damien was a cool nerd. Like he was chill and scared, but also knew his science. He came on the show expecting the million to be given to him. He's like if you mixed DJ with Cameron and added a dash of awesome. He wanted to get off so bad that he wasted his time. Bummer...

I feel bad for Nichelle though. Girlboss turned Girlfail real fast. I thought she was going to be the cool girl a la Heather and become the major villian. However, I just wanted to hug her instead. Hope she gets another season too.

Raj and Wayne are package deal and the bestest of bros. Wayne cracked me up when he noticed Raj was gay. He was literally the fan base when we all heard. Raj was a sweetie too. His crush on Bowie was the right amount of meet cute, awkward glances, and then Bowie became his hero. Boy loves his man more than hockey itself. How darling!

The other characters were okay in my opinion. Some were decent like MK and Zee. Chase can go die in a ditch with his car's breaks cut. Ripper was annoying. Julia was like a better version of crazy Courtney with Heather skills. Axel was fine too.

Chris and Chef's dynamic was much better than previously bad ones and Chef made me chuckle a few times. He's such an overprotective dad figure to the campers when he wants to.

Overall, I loved how the new season gave us a new perspective. Thirteen episodes are just okay to me, but I hope for more next time. Give this season a chance and maybe two watches before you come down on the hammer. It has gen z kids as the protagonists now, they are going to be different from the old cast. They were early z's, these campers are late z's. Do not be so hard on them.

#total drama 2023 #total drama #total drama review #positive reaction #tdi

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jirachis-tag · 2 years

Note

Milo x Reader?? No need to be romantic, just being peeps is enough but i don't complain :>

(Sfw ofc)

~Platonic! Milo X Reader~

Word Count: 1458

Content: SFW

-As It Always Was-

Milo couldn't exactly figure out why some people liked winter's weather. It was inconvenient, bothersome, cold, and worst of all, he couldn't tend to his outside plants!

That time of the year was usually most boring for him, not having much to do other than drink hot beverages, loaf around, work out indoors - it felt quite trapping, especially during snow storms.

He hated when he needed to go to the store, straight into the safety hazard parkour course with all its obstacles: slippery ice, snow death pits, splashy mud, blinding fog and heavy snowfall.

He groaned once again when he looked outside the window for the tenth time in a span of an hour. He didn't have an excuse not to go and buy some vegetables for lunch now that the wind stopped aggressively blowing. He scratched the back of his head with a sigh, proceeding to comb his peach hair with his fingers, which more often than not helped him focus and think.

Then it occurred to him, the best idea of all - if he's going to torture himself in the outside weather, then might as well take somebody with him to share the pain.

"(Y/N), my pretty flower, my clover patch, I need your help really urgently!", Milo exclaimed to you over the phone.

"Yes, Agent Bushy Boy? Over", you replied with a hand over your mouth.

You two loved being silly, even when rough times hit. In those cases it was far more important to be as goofy as possible in order to elevate each other's spirits.

"You shall go with me to the shop! I desperately need company…", he trailed off, faking a sad sniffle, "I wanted to find a reason not to go, but, alas, I'm hungry."

You hummed in response, trying to contain a laugh, however at one point it proved to be too much and you gave in, amusing him with an entire giggle fit.

"And what's in it for me pumpkin pie? Do I get to have a portion of your lunch as a reward for my hard work and dedication? In case you say yes, I will gladly prove my loyalty", you snickered, hitting your chest with your fist, acting out the role of a fantasy knight, even though Milo couldn't see any of it.

"Of course you do! I'll even brew you a cup of your favorite tea, you know, as per usual."

"Nuh uh, only if it's hot chocolate!"

"Alright, it's hot chocolate then, just please hurry up or I'm going to starve. I'm a big boy, you know?"

"Large, wide, very big!", you proclaimed, choosing to use a different funny voice for every individual word, "Yeah, alright, it might take me a bit to dress up, though."

"Same over here! Layers and layers, scarves, hats, gloves, boots, gah! I wish it was warm again", he complained with a sigh, putting a finger to his forehead.

"Let's not waste time then. I'll see you in a quarter?"

"Of course."

Milo fisted the air, basking in that small, barely significant victory. He never even doubted that you'd refuse, being his best friend ever since childhood. You grew up together so close, that even now as adults, your bond had only strengthened.

You were beyond happy, but not surprised, when he became a Gym Leader. It might not be the best position for him, since he tends to hold back a lot when it comes to weaker trainers, but he enjoys it regardless, and that's the only factor that matters.

Though if you were to challenge him to a battle, he would, without a doubt, go all out because he would never in a million years call you weak or unqualified.

Milo even urged you to attempt the Gym Challenge, which you did consider, and then set it aside as a possible future endeavor. You did have your own small business to run, and oftentimes you help Milo with the crops which is usually just an excuse to hang out in the shade afterwards, eat apples and chase each other with a water hose. Nothing ever really changed when it came to spending time together, even after so many years.

He was always there to hear you out and help however he could no matter what kind of problem you seemed to have. However, what he did differently was hugs. He gave the tightest, meatiest, most loving hugs in the world and nobody could top them. Sometimes the hugs would touch your heart so much that you'd start crying into one of his large biceps, and he'd let you without bringing up any questions. No, quite the opposite - he would just smile softly in serene silence and ruffle your hair.

"(Y/N)!", Milo called out, voice muffled by the thick green scarf wrapped around his neck and lower half of his face. He brought his arm up to wave at you from a distance, the jacket making it a bit tougher to move in, but at least he seemed warm.

That was until you approached closer and saw that he was trembling slightly, his teeth clicking, tip of his nose red.

"Oh, Milo... You really don't handle this well, do you?"

"I am frozen to my roots! We should definitely hurry up, or I won't even be able to carry the bags afterwards", he huffed, rubbing his palms together, building friction through his gloves.

"Hop, hop, hop, then!", you took his hand and began dragging him through snow piles.

On the way, Milo tried to be chatty. Keyword, tried to. You could barely understand him from all the shaking and disconnected strings of sounds that were coming out of his mouth as a substitute for a desperate plea to have his summer back.

You couldn't help but laugh at him, occasionally dusting off the accumulated snowflakes from his scarf, but more of those actually stuck to his eyelashes, making them sparkle when melting, giving him some kind of princely, sovereign appearance. He was adorable.

"Alright, what do we need?", you asked when you finally entered a nearby shop.

Milo took his precious time thawing out, putting a hand up as a sign to give him a minute. You tackled him into another hug, aiming to get his blood flowing.

"(Y-Y/N)!", he giggled, pretending to keep his distance.

"Carrots? Cucumbers? Tomatoes? Do tell."

"Potatoes too! Don't forget those, they're very important!"

"Oh? We're having fries?"

"Stew! You really need to eat healthier, for Pete's sake", he shook his head while examining said potatoes at the vegetable aisle.

"Fiiine, I guess the hot chocolate will make up for it!"

"You say that like I don't make good food."

"Oh, no, your dishes are truly amazing and you know it."

Milo would always cook for the both of you, inviting you over for breakfast and lunch fairly often, especially when he had something interesting in mind. You'd insist on helping him, but he'd usually turn you down, as your job was to be the critique and nothing more. Besides, he functioned better solo in that regard.

"You'll at least let me pay, right?", you shot a question his way at the cash register.

"I'll let you donate half, if you really must", he rolled his innocent green eyes at you.

"Sheesh, you're strict. Still babying me, hm?"

"That was always my duty!"

On the way back, you started reminiscing about the past a bit more. He was always a bit protective of you. That didn't bother you much, as you felt far safer, and it never crossed any boundaries, it was just that the feeling of being a bit of a bother would arise every once in a while.

Despite that, Milo would reassure you that he loved you so much that you would never be dead weight to him. It was his way of showing affection, so you either take it or leave it.

You'd only smile and shake your head at his re-emerging stubbornness. At the end of the day, you were actually glad that this side of him at least never changed, as much as he grew and matured in the meantime.

"Hey, you know...", you broke the silence while enjoying the hot chocolate he had recently finished making for you, "No matter what coffee shop I go to, this is still the best thing that had the opportunity to bless my taste buds."

Milo blew a raspberry, then tapped your back while passing by with a plate of food for you.

"I will try my best to believe you, because that remark makes me incredibly happy", he giggled, taking a seat across from you, "Tell me about your week. We have some catching up to do."

#milo x reader #gym leader milo #pokemon milo x reader #milo pokemon #pokemon #pkmn #pokemon swsh #pokemon trainers x reader #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon reader insert #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader

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doctormomwriter · 1 year

Text

New Look

Aizawa x OC Smut (filth)

Small plot because for some reason I am unable to write smut without a little background. Biggest lie I told myself...

Warning: Sexual Content, Rough, Sweet, Dirty Talking Sex

Ivy and Aizawa must come to terms with secrets, feelings, and how to go on teaching like nothing ever happened.

*********************************************************************

Part 1: Glitter Boy and The Ugly Witch

It all started with a small prank. Teaching a bunch of future pro heroes science was difficult. They never seemed to be interested in my lessons, only about the hell that would be reigned down upon them by Aizawa during his class periods with them. I learned the keep their attention by arranging small pranks on my favorite, sleepy coworker. For the last few weeks, I had hid glitter bombs in Aizawa's desk. Three of them that would go off at the perfect moment. I told the class if they all passed their midterm assignments, then I would shower Mr. Aizawa with glitter in the middle of his lecture. Their grades were all above passing. I had never been so proud and so nervous in my life. I was really hoping for one failing grade so that I could back out before I was in too deep. I am a woman of my word though.

I peeked in Aizawa's window and flipped a small switch and without failure, all of the glitter bombs popped in unison. He did not say anything. The class burst into laughter and his eyes flashed at the doorway where he caught me red handed. I bolted to my office and immediately began planning my apology.

The day dragged on as I taught the next two classes. One of my students asked why I looked sickly, like I had seen a ghost. I nonchalantly admitted that if Mr. Aizawa catches me today, I would be a ghost! Thankfully the purple haired kid did not seem to have the energy to probe me for more information. Five o'clock came sooner today than any other day. It was time to face the music. Aizawa and I always had a unique way of speaking to each other. Small jokes at one anothers expence, followed by "I am only kidding" and visiously looking away from each other.

I walked outside and put on my lab coat that I always wore over my dress clothes. I was always afraid that my clothes were too tight or not professional enough so I bypassed the dresscode by wearing a lab coat nearly all the time. I am not sure really anyone knew what I looked like underneath except Nemuri. Midnight was my best friend and had seen me in everyway, unfortunately. She always laughed when we would go out in our group of friends and I would still be in this damn coat. Rain or shine. Hot or cold. I was covered neck, to wrist, to ankle.

"You fucking bitch! I need them to focus! They are literally training for their lives!" Aizawa pushed passed Mic and made a bee-line for me. I hid between Nemuri and the tree they were surrounding.

"I am sorry! It was to motivate them to pass my exam!" I winced and giggled. "They passed." I shrugged.

"I don't know if your quirk has something to do with childish bullshit or maybe you're just one of those quirkless assholes with a hobby, but it does not mean you have to look and act like a big, ugly, witch!" Aizawa looked like he immediately regretted his words, but I did not care. That hurt.

"I..I'm sorry." I felt like I was going to puke.

"Wait... do you not have a quirk?" Mic chimed in. Everyone ignored him.

*********************************************************************

Part 2: Who Let the Girls Out?

I snuck off to my apartment quickly. An hour or so later, Midnight knocked on my door. My face had been burried in my pillow, soaked with tears. I felt like a teenager. Did he really see me as big and ugly? I could not lie to myself about it, I had the biggest crush on Aizawa since we met. Every social gathering left the two of us together as wall flowers and we joked around and talked about our lives and it became a beautiful friendship. Until I ruined it..

"Ivy girl, you have to get up.. he did not mean it like that!" Midnight put a loving hand on my shoulder.

"I am not sure why it hurt.." I tried not to look at her. I was still red from tears.

"Because you like him." She said in a sing songy way.

"I do not! We are just friends." I almost shouted at her, but my voice cracked at the lie.

"You have to get up, we are having All Might's birthday party at Siripico's Bar and you know what that meansssss!" She held a finger under my chin that forced me to look up at her.

"It means I have to go and face Aizawa like the fat, ugly, witch I am?" I smirked and wiped my face from the tears. "I am going to sit this out, take Toshinori my gift please." I flopped back into the bed.

"No, do not make me knock you out and dress you up the hard way." Midnight tugged at her sleeve with a devilish grin.

My brown eyes flashed a matte gold color and my hair fell down from my messy bun. I smirked as I summoned my closet doors open so hard the room shook.

"God, I love it when you use magic!" She giggled and rummaged through my closet. Flinging dresses out left and right.

"Oh honey, none of this will work. You have to have on a dress that goes with heels!" She pulled out my old hero costume and flung it on the bed. "What about this?" She gave me an evil smile.

"You know good and well, I am never going to wear that again. My pro days are over, that is why I teach science." I held the weathered fabric in my hand. My touch made it flow back to a dark black again.

No one knew but Midnight and Nezu. No one was allowed to know about "Hecate: The Witch Hero." She disappeared about the same time Ivy moved to Osaka City to teach young heroes science...harmless science. I remembered how I looked though. Much like Midnight. Tall and curvy, my dark wine colored hair, long and wild with curles and narcisus flowers accentuated my black dress that resembled an Greecian robe. Long slits up from the ankle to my hips on each side. 'Cleavage and legs for days' is what Nemuri called it when I showed her pictures.

"No one will know if you keep your normal face on." She waved her hand in front of my face. I took a breath and changed my eye color back to brown and my hair seemed to not be so wild anymore. "Plus, you are not wearing your moon horn head piece and eye makeup. No one will know... come on!! This is sexy as hell."

I began to ponder the idea and grabbed my lab coat like a security blanket. She snatched it from me.

"If you even think about wearing this thing, I will knock you out and tape you to the flag pole...naked..." She licked her lips.

"You pervert. I love you, you silly goose. Fine.." I admitted defeat.

We got dressed together at her apartment. She had to approve my makeup and lend me a pair of heels. We took goofy pictures like always. One of them was a little riske'. Midnight jokingly put her hand around my throat while we were in our bras and panties. Our tongues were sticking out as our faces nearly touched.

"You better delete that one!" I grabbed for the phone. Too late.

"Nemuri!! Tell me you did not send that to Hizashi... please.. tell me you did not!" I was so embarrassed but the damage was already done. We finished getting ready and ordered a ride to take us to the bar.

***********************************************************************

Part 3: Look at This Photograph

"Holy shit!" Mic blushed at the photo and immediately texted back. "Yes Ma'ams!" to Midnight's picture. They had a friends with benefits thing going on that know one is supposed to know about, but everyone knows about it.

"What?" Aizawa spat in the sink and whiped the toothpaste foam from his lips.

"Don't mind me, looking to score twice tonight." Mic slid the phone to Aizawa and his face turned red. Mostly from anger.

"Like Ivy would even dream of you touching her." He coughed and rolled his eyes. Closing the bathroom door to breath and prevent his semi from becoming more than that.

Aizawa and Mic had a long conversation while they waited for time to get ready for the party. Mic explained that calling a woman "fat and ugly" even as a joke or retaliation is bad. Aizawa scoffed and while he knew Mic was right about that, he did not want to admit fault. Eventually they dropped the conversation when Mic mentioned to Aizawa that while no one had really seen my body not covered by work clothes and a lab coat, I had a pretty face and a great personality and that is all the mattered. Aizawa added in how intelligent I was and then began talking about training with his class.

"I just find it funny that you think Ivy would not jump on this dick if I gave her the option." Mic prodded as they were walking out the door. Aizawa clenched the keys in his hand to avoid feeling the rage that boiled in his bloodstream. "Could you imagine what her face looks like when she is going down... do you think she keeps her glasses on? Do you think her tits are that big out side of the pic.." Aizawa pushed Mic into the hallway wall.

"Shut up. Gentleman's agreement like old times? Keep your hands and eyes off of Ivy. No questions asked." Aizawa was so harsh with those words.

"See.. I knew you liked her." Mic fixed his jacket and they got in the car without another word.

Mic sent a text to Nemuri. "Finally he admits it." She responded with a thumbs up emoji.

**********************************************************************

Party 4: Lights Out, Drinks Up

I stepped out of the Uber and Nemuri pulled me in for a picture outside the bar's neon signage. We both looked hot. I felt naked without my coat, but it was time to feel confident after being knocked down to nothing this afternoon. We ordered a drink and mingled. All Might was huge and muscular like normal, his yellow suit traded out for a crisp plum color one with a black tie and belt. His shoes were so shiny they looked like wet paint. He hugged us so tight. He was so wholesome. Fawning over how beautiful I looked, he even whispered in my ear that confidence looked so beautiful on me. He also whispered something about beating the boys off of me with a stick if I needed. He was so kind. I adored that man for more than his hero work.

"This drink is strong, but I need another." I shouted to Midnight over the music but she was too busy making googoo eyes at Mic.

I flagged the bartender down, but he had already handed me a drink. A flaming orange concoction. He pointed to man at he end of the bar and winked. I blew out the fire and took the shot before turning around. My eyes grew wide like saucers when I saw the brooding Endeavor sitting down on a stool that looked way to small to hold him. His suit was black and his shirt a crisp white. His tie was one of those fancy paisley patterns with a sterling silver clip. I smiled and decided I should probably say thank you for the drink. I walked over and reheared a small talk starter in my head.

"Thank you, Endeavor." I was going to leave it at that.

He placed his hand on the counter and bartender ran 4 more flaming shots in front of us.

"You're not going to make me drink alone, huh? It's Enji outside of work by the way." He pushed a shot to me.

"I guess one more won't hurt... Enji.." I smiled.

I took the shot down. I didnt even blow out the flame that time.

"So... I have a question. Is there any particular reason you decided to dress like a fucking beauty queen tonight?" He took two shots back to back and passed me the last one.

Oh my god, was he hitting on me? Ew.. I teach one of his kids. My brain was not really thinking clearly anymore. The alcohol bubbling in my veins, my cheeks felt pink. I had to be careful or else I may forget to keep my quirk in check. I nonchalantly summoned the shot glass to my hand only a few inches so he would not notice.

"A shy girl, huh? No reason to be shy when you look like that. Although, I never really thought I would see that outfit out in the wild again. Hecate." He grabbed my hand firmly.

"What did you call me?" I giggled. He was bluffing. He did not really know.

"Do not play dumb with me.. You do not need to hide all that power from someone like me. I know all too well what it is like to have so much power and rarely get to use my full potential." He had pulled me close. Tucked my long curly hair behind my ear.

I was starting to panic now. I needed another drink. My mouth was dry. I pulled away but he pulled me back harder. My face smushed into his chest. He swayed to the music and kept his voice down low so I could hear him without anyone eavsdropping.

"I am just saying, imagine the legacy you and I could leave behind if you came out into the hero world. Not to mention, having this sweet ass and legs to look at on those lonely stake outs at night might ease the long hours... You could ease this long.." He stepped back a moment to see what had caught his attention. His foot suddenly slipped up into the air and he came crashing down to his ass.

I made my get away. I could not see what happened until the strobe lights flased on a silver grey cloth slinking away behind the bar and into Aizawa's suit pocket. My eyes trailed up to the man who was behind the prank.

When I made eye contact with him, he gave me a half smile. I had almost forgotten how badly he had hurt my feelings earlier. I turned around in embarrassment and unfortunately ran into a frustrated looking Endeavor.

"So you are just going to knock me off my feet and run away? Lucky for you, I like a challenge." He pulled me close to his chest again.

My eyes flashed back to Aizawa who was looking out of the corner of his eyes at us while he chatted with Vlad King. He looked angry. Did I really make him that angry? Maybe I should enjoy myself. Get a little flirty. Even if its with someone as disgusting as Endeavor.

"So, I do not want to disappoint you, but I am not who you think I am. I am just a science teacher." I shrugged.

"I am not dumb, Hecate. I have known since the moment I saw your face. Now that you're wearing your old dress, I confirmed it. What I cannot figure out is... why you are hiding? Who are you hiding from?" His face was so close to mine.

"I am not saying you are dumb, I am saying that..." A strong hand grabbed my shoulder. A forceful but careful pull, pulled me away from the firey man.

"We need to talk." Aizawa did not even bother to look at the angered Endeavor.

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Part 5: Time to Get Shit Faced.

Endeavor pulled me back to him and at that moment I ducked and side stepped to give space between us. Mic walked by with a tray of cosmo shooters and I grabbed two off and downed them. Hoping this would all go away when I opened my eyes. I was wrong, of course.

"Eraserhead, I did not peg you for the rude type. Ivy and I were just talking about how much we have in common." He winked at me.

"We don't have anything in common." I chimed in and it seemed like no one listened.

"Oh really, since when did she become a pretentious, fireball, asshole?" Aizawa flashed his eyes at Endeavor, watching the flames die down.

"To be fair you called me an asshole this morning." At this point, I swayed off without them noticing. I made my way to the bathroom as the alcohol started to really fuck with my senses. I have not drank this much in front of anyone but Midnight.

I texted Nemuri to come save me and decided to try to sober up some in the comfort of the bathroom stall. This felt gross.

Aizawa and Endeavor spent the next five minutes arguing before Aizawa noticed I was gone. They both blamed each other for my disappearance and Aizawa made a beeline for the hallway that led to the bathrooms and back door patio. I decided to stop hiding in the bathroom when I heard moaning in the stall beside me. That was my cue to leave. I needed fresh air. I opened the patio door and no one was there in my line of sight. I shut the door and sat in the chairs by the wall.

"Fuck.." I sighed.

"You wanna tell me what that was about?" Aizawa flicked a half smoked cigarette across the lot.

"Fuck!" I jumped up and immediately felt lightheaded. I sat down.

"I honestly have not a fucking clue." I covered my face and he down beside me.

"You're hanging out with Endeavor, that is...interesting." He lit another cigarette.

"Give me that...please" I pulled it from his fingers but it felt like they lingered on my hand for more than a normal amount of time.

I took a puff, I had not had a cigarette in forever. The last time was when Nemuri talked me into trying one of these special rainbow cigarettes that tasted like peppermint. I felt a rush as the nicotine flooded my system.

"I am not hanging out with him, he bought me a few drinks, made a pass at me which I declined, several times. He knows my secret..." I passed the cigarette back to Aizawa.

"Oh, okay. So you're not into...you're not interested in him?" He choked out. Pretending it was the cigarette making him choke.

"Of course not, he is gross. Not my type." I took the cigarette and took a long drag.

"Ha...and what is your type?" Aizawa raised an eyebrow.

We made eye contact for a moment and I could not make myself speak. I could not come clean. One part of me wanted to tell him that he was my type and the other part of me wanted to give a generic answer. Before I could open my mouth, the door crashed open and Endeavor and a waitress were entangled, making out loudly. He stopped when he saw me.

"Yeah, that is right. This could have been you. I could have fucked you stupid, Hecate." Endeavor turned back to the waitress who was stil gasping for air from the lip locking.

It's amazing how fast you sober up when you get hit with a blow of anxiety the size of a mountain. I bolted around the corner. Making it to the corner and trying to catch a taxi. I finally caught one and as I was about to shut the door, Aizawa slid in beside me. He handed a 50 to the driver and muttered an address.

"We need to talk." He looked at me harshly. I saw his eyes flash red and I pinched his thigh. He blinked before he had the chance to use his quirk on me.

"Not here." Thankfully he did not push.

We arrived at a small loft near UA. This was not my apartment... I guess it was his. He tipped the driver and we walked to the door. He grasped my hand and nearly dragged me inside.

"You do like him, why would you lie about that? You have a pet name? Why him? Why a fucking asshole like him? You are so smart and he's.." He looked at me so angry. His eyes flashed at me. His hair stood on end..

I let it happen. He watched as my skin tone grew paler and slightly glowing. My eyes turned from brown to gold and copper colored. My curls seemed to look bolder and less tamed. Large ringlets of wine colored locks. My lips turned from soft pink to the color of sugar plums in winter.

"What.." He relaxed his gaze. I kept my form.

"This is me.. the fat, ugly witch." A tear fell down my cheek. "When I was 20, a fairly young pro. I was Hecate. My quirk is witchcraft." I sighed again. "Endeavor figured it out and was trying to court me for breeding purposes. I dislike him. I promise."

Aizawa still did not say a work. He just looked at me. In a way he never really had before. There was so much awkward silence in the room, you could hear the neighbors across the street snoring.

"You're.." He took a long pause again.

"I am me, this is just an old part of me that I wanted to keep away from everyone. I am done being a pro.." I was teary eyed. Worried that he would ask why I hid this. Why I left a career I worked so hard to get..

"I just don't understand. How could I have been so blind not to see that..you're Hecate?" He walked towards me. Leaving little space between me and him. I backed up towards the door. My back nearly touching it.

"I am so...sorry." He whispered.

"For what?"

"For hurting your feelings... for calling you are quirkless normie.. for being awful tonight while you were just trying to have a good time." His hand rested on my shoulder. "Why would you hide this from us? No one would have cared." He chuckled.

"You never heard the story of how Hecate disappeared? My shame? You would not have cared about my failure as a hero? How I was tricked into killing someone...I am a witch by birth and by nature of my quirk. I swore to never do harm and I let a man....gain control of my body and use it for evil. I saw everything he did to my body and made my body do..I should have been put down like a rabid dog, Shouta." I was crying the type of way that makes you gasp for air. Tears streaming down my cheeks and down my neck.

"Ivy... I didn't..I had no idea. I promise. Even if I did, I would have never judged you for something that you did not do of your own volition." He wiped the tears from my eyes and held my face in his palms. "Then Endeavor kept talking about how our spawn would be powerful beings and it made me want to vomit, but I spent time with him to make you jealous and then.." His lips slowly pressed to mine.

He pulled away from me and tooks a few steps back.

"I am so sorry...I should have asked, but why did you want to make me jealous? You know what, it doesn't matter. Thank you for being honest with me. Want to go back to the party?" He was shaking his head in disbelief.

I felt my heart burst in my chest. How could he just kiss me and ask if I want to go to a party?! I wanted to be here. I needed some kind of explanation to his actions! I was hurt all over again. Maybe he just wanted to shut me up. Did it not matter at all that I wanted to make him jealous. Fuck this night.

"I...well, should we talk about what just happened?" I needed answers.

"Oh this?" Aizawa stepped forward as my back touched the door. He tilted my chin up and kissed me again. His fingers lightly moving my hair behind my ear and his palm cupping my jaw to hold me in place. He released after about a minute.

"Yes.. that." I felt so dizzy. Was I still drunk? Maybe a litte.

He locked the door and took my hand, pulling me on top of him on the couch. His hands moved around my waist as our lips connected again. Deeper this time. His tongue grazing my bottom lip after a soft bite. I whimpered into the kiss which triggered a low moan from him. I could feel his cock hard under his pants. If I could see myself, I am sure I was tomato red with anxiety.

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Chapter 6: Drunk In Love

"We should really go back to the party...don't you think?" Aizawa had his hand in my hair, a hard grip. Pulling me only an inch back from his lips.

I pouted.. he was right though. He pulled his phone from his pocket and showed me 37 missed texts from Hizashi. I slowly climbed off of his lap and my legs felt like they weighed 500 pounds. I was shivering at the loss of warmth between us.

"I have questions.." I whispered as he smirked and wiped my lipstick from his mouth. I blushed thinking I should probably touch myself up before we head back.

"I have answers." His voice fell lower in tone.

"I still have no idea what is going on in your head...was this just a one time.. tipsy..thing?" I walked closer to the door.

Aizawa stopped and narrowed his eyes at me. I could not tell if he was annoyed, amused, frustrated, or confused. I was confused. One minute his tongue is down my throat and the next he is rushing us back to a party. He walked towards me and rubbed my small lipstick smear from my chin. Pressing me back to the door. He kissed me softly. Trailing them down my neck.

"Oh fuck!" I cried out as his teeth bit into my tender skin. Right above my color bone. He lingered and pulled off of me.

"We go back, be polite friends, give our gifts, have a drink or two. I want to dance with you in the dim light. Let me feel like I have given you a proper date and I promise you, when we get back to my apartment, I will leave no room for doubt in your beautiful brain. I will kiss you.." he learned in to my ear to whisper "I will have you screaming to whatever gods you believe in all night." He stood back up and smiled at me. It was an innocent and loving smile.

The uber drive back to the bar was short, thank god. He held my hand to guide me out of the car and we went back inside through the patio. Hizashi was still drunk. He grabbed me and told me how pretty I was. Aizawa sighed in annoyance. Then Hizashi screamed for Nemuri, she cam running from the back, drinks in hand.

"Nemuri!! Look! They did it!!" He pointed to my neck.

My face was on fire. I did not realize the bite had left a mark. Aizawa snaked a hand around my waist and pulled me to him, hard enough to make me place a hand on his chest for balance.

"Would you shut up and let the kids have their fun, we have been waiting for this to happen for months." Nemuri handed me a glass and asked me to dance with her.

I looked at Aizawa who just nodded for me to go off and enjoy myself.

Unknown to me, Hizashi begged him for details and Aizawa did not oblidge. He left is very vague. Only telling him that he could not fight his feelings anymore and that we kissed and came back to the party. Hizashi whined at the last of graphic detail, but eventually let the topic go.

Meanwhile, Nemuri and I were dancing and grinding on each other. Laughing and taking shots. I tried to pace myself, I did not want to be too drunk to miss out on the end of the "date." A broad hand cut in between us and pulled me close to him, I halfheartedly expected it to be Aizawa, but it was Enji. I pulled back quickly in disgust. He laughed and reached for my wrist again only to fall to his ass. My eyes flashed the gold and copper color that he had only hoped to see. I bound him to the floor with my magic. The music stopped and everyone back up as the giant man struggled to get up. I snapped my fingers and released him. There were gasps from all over the crowd. People mumbled, wondering what happeded, while the people closest to me could see that it was my own power that caused the scene.

"Hecate, I have to give it to you. I almost believed you for a minute. But, now your whole secret is out. Was it worth it? Doing this show all for me?" Enji was enraged and cocky.

"That was not for you... that was for him." I pointed to Aizawa, who had made his way to my side when he saw Endeavor fall to the ground.

"How cute...enjoy mediocrate.." Enji made his way back to the bar. Thankfully everyone had the attention span of a goldfish and went back to drinking and dancing.

"I think this was the best date I have ever been on." Aizawa giggled and pulled me close to him as a slower song played.

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Chapter 7: Oh My God

It was over, we made it back to his apartment. Suddenly, I felt nervous again. Like a virgin being lured to into a sacrifice. I felt danger and excitement, passion and longing, but more importantly... I felt safe with him. I felt like he was testing me to see if I would try to initiate. I was far too nervous for that. I sat on the couch and waited for him to come back from the restroom. My blood ran cold when I heard the faucet turn off from him washing his hands. I do not even know how to act sexy.

"So, you have a pretty impressive music collection here.." I could have punched myself for trying to break the ice.

"So, can I see? Show me something magical?" He brough two glasses of red wine to the living room area.

As he passed a glass to me, I sipped the sweet and bitter liquid. Trying to fight off the hangover and keep a small buzz for confidence. I blushed at the question, I had no idea what I could impress him with. At this point in our lives, I feel that we have seen it all.

"Tell me what you would like and I will try to make it happen?" It was more of a question for him that a command.

"I want to see...what you desire." He sat back on the couch. His legs were spread and his rested his wine glass on knee. His other hand resting behind his head comfortably.

It took me about a minute of thinking. I put on one of his records and swayed slowly to the music. Sipping my glass of wine in between thoughts of what to do. Suddenly, I had the best idea. I shot down the rest of the wine and told him to close his eyes and count to three.

"One...Two...Three..." When he opened his eyes, I stood before him in a matching bra and panty set, black wiring, flesh toned transulent fabric that had emerald green stitching in the patters of webs and tentacles like something out of a Vintinour magazine. It was sexy, it was sinful, it made him audibly moan a low "Oh my god.."

"Now...what is that you desire?" I bit my lip and smirked like a brat.

"I would love for you to come sit in my lap....but I desire for you get on your knees right here..." He pointed to the floor between his legs. "Obviously, only if we are sharing that desire."

Aizawa, king of consent. It make me feel like I would soak through my magic-made lingerie. I took a few steps to him before dropping to my hands and knees and crawling up to his knees. He stood up and unbuttoned and I eagerly pulled them down with his underwear and gently pushed him back on the couch before taking his length into my mouth. The good thing about a little foreplay is that by the time you get to this part, there is no need for warming him up. He was stiff and hard, twitching at the cool air, pre-cum dripping from it's head. I was enjoying myself so much I did not realize I had been sucking for nearly 10 minutes, changing things around, fast and slow, circling my tongue around it and making sure to lick his balls while I stroked him with my hand. His moans made me want to beg him to fuck me, but I needed to make him feel like he was the only man in the world. I wanted to please him, erase the doubts from the Endeavor situation.

"I would not be a good man if I let you do all of the work, now would I? He gripped my hair in his fist and pulled me away from his cock. I was whining like a brat. He laughed as he through me on my back, I hit the carpet with a thud and a pout.

Now this was knew to me... I did not come down to the floor and spread my legs, he hooked his strong arms around my thighs and curled me my pussy up to his face. I was basically upside down. My shoulder blades on the floor as the man's tongue violated my pussy in the best way imaginable. I was crying, swearing, shouting out to the gods. I was so close I could not breath. He stopped and slid a hand up my back, putting me in his lap and my face to his.

His kisses tasted salty and sweet. I desperately grinded on his cock. Soaking it with my arousal, but never pushing it inside without permission. His kisses went down my throat as his hands shredded the lingerie way too easily. My whole body was exposed to him and I got a little nervous. No time to stay nervous when the man of your dreams has his mouth on your breasts and two fingers sunk inside your tight little whole. He even knew to curls him up while he pumped them in and out.

"Fuck... I am going to cum, please don't stop! Please don't! Please... FUCK!" I shouted as the juices flowed from me right onto his palm.

He stroked himself using my own lust as lube. He lowered me down onto my back. The couch was soft and comfy. Agressively, he threw one of my legs up and rested my ankle on his shoulder, while he lined himself up to my entrance. Asking permission once more. I barely finished the word "Please" when he pushed inside.

"Oh god, you feel...." He fucked me a few more times before finishing that sentence.

I think he knew he would not last very long on our first time, but he made every thrust feel like heaven. His moans set my body on fire, I wanted to praise him for treating me like a goddess, but I also wanted to serve him like he was my deity to worship for eternity.

"Tell me this is mine? Forever!" He shouted.

"This is yours, Shouta! Please.."

He came so hard, when he pulled out, his cum painted from my lower stomach to my chest. I was messy and sweaty and tired. He walked away and brough a warm towel to clean off with before inviting me to the shower.

This was how I would spend many nights after.

#aizawa shouta #aizawa smut #mha fanfiction #my hero academia shigaraki #smutty #bnha aizawa

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