Tumgik
#everyone thought the pair was and odd couple
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It's so funny to me that the fandom has come to see Hirano as a Sasamiya promoter of sorts because while he is, it took him some time to get accustomed to the idea of them together. And while he was never a hater Sasaki's actions towards Miyano certainly used to get on his nerves.
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At first he was so worried and probably even felt a little guilty because (as mentioned in the following screenshot) because the only reason why Sasaki knows which class Miya is in, is thanks to him.
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But like, that's not the face of a friend that's happy to play cupid and get their two acquaintances together. Not at all, that's the face of someone who puts his sempai-kouhai relationship with Miyano over his (pseudo) friendship with Sasaki.
Hirano from the first chapters would have jailed Sasaki if he were allowed to. (And he has his reasons, Sasaki has been something since the first chapters)
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Anyway, the progression of events is really interesting.
He started, quite literally, shielding Miyano from Sasaki.
Then, he came to accept their relationship.
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And at the end he really was rooting for them, to the point he ended up outright lying just so Miyano could meet Sasaki and they could talk it out and confess.
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flkwh0re · 2 months
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Team Player
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Pairing: Step-mom! Wanda Maximoff x Coach! Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Age gap (Legal), Step-mom/Step-daughter relationship, Coach/Player relationship, Cheating, Manipulation(??), Threesome, Mommy Kink (W), Degrading, Spitting, Cum play(??), Fingering, Oral, Dom/Dom/Sub dynamic, Natasha has a penis, Unprotected sex, Brief breeding kink, Face riding
A/n: Love this dynamic, very odd unusual pairing tho 😭
Word count: 1,568
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Today was the day of your final game of your college teams basketball game. You anxiously waited around for your dad to show, knowing he’d probably not. He always had some excuse like being busy at work, or having made plans already.
That was never the case though, it was always the fact that he was just pure lazy and didn’t give two fucks about you and the stuff you did.
It hurt you, it hurt you badly. Your step mom, Wanda, on the other hand was amazing. Stepping up to take his place any moment she could. You honestly didn’t believe how the woman married that man, but little did you know she only stayed for you.
Wanda had developed a small crush on you, then it grew. Anytime she watched one of your games, she’d have an aching throb between her thighs. Watching your skilled body move around the court, the sweat dripping down your body. The tone in your voice as you yelled at your teammates, trying to get their attention. You truly were the mvp of the team, and everyone adored you.
As you stood around by the door waiting for him, one of your teammates informed you that your couch wanted you in the locker room. You huffed and began to walk away from the entrance, until the door flew open. You craned your head around and there stood Wanda.
“Oh my god Wanda you made it!” You yelped as your arms flew around her body, your taller figure towering her. “I couldn’t miss my favorite girls final game, now could I?” She chuckled, earning a giggling and smile from you.
“I’d walk you to the gymnasium, but coach wants me. Plus the game starts soon, so I’ll see you after?” You asked. “Why don’t I come with you? I have something I wanna try on you.” She hummed, to which you shuddered and nodded with confusion.
What could she possibly want to try, were your thoughts while you two walked to the locker room. Her hand resting on your back, almost too close to your ass.
Once the two of you reached the locker room, you guided her into where your coach was. “Coach Romanoff?” You asked, the older woman turning around. “Oh hello Y/n, I needed to discuss some things with you before the game. Who’s this?” Natasha pointed to Wanda.
“Oh this is Wanda, my step-mom.” Wanda extended her hand to Natasha. “Nice to meet you..?” Wanda paused, “Natasha.” She responded. Wanda nodded, “Nice to meet you Natasha.” Natasha nodded and took her hand, “Like wise.”
After a while of Natasha discussing game plans with you, Wanda’s hands rested on your shoulders. Massaging the tense muscles. “Detka, you’re so tense. What’s wrong?” She quipped, and you nervously eyed the two women. “I- just nervous I guess.”
You lied as well as you could, you knew it wasn’t believable thought. It was hard to hide the fact you had a massive crush on your step-mom, alone with your coach. You knew it was wrong, all so very wrong.
Natasha and you messed around a couple times, quickly shutting it down when you two were almost caught by one of your teammates. You didn’t know that Wanda knew though.
She had caught you texting her multiple times about non-basketball related things, but chose not to say anything. She did feel rather protective of you, which is why she insisted on coming with you to see Nat before the game.
Wanda hummed, then glanced up at Natasha. “I know that’s not the reason, it’s because your step-mom’s hands are rubbing across your muscles and your filthy coach keeps eyeing you. Such a dirty girl you are.”
A gasp escaped your lips, Natasha eyes painfully trained on Wanda. “What do you mean by that, Wanda?” She asked sternly, her teeth gritted.
“Oh don’t act like a fool, I know that you know you get Y/n here to whore herself out to you.” Another gasped came from you, Wanda’s fingers found your lips and pushed past them.
“Hush you little slut, don’t you act surprised either.” Whimpers escaped your lips, a groan erupted from Natasha. Wanda laughed darkly, her fingers toying with your mouth.
“Why don’t we help you out before the game? We can’t have you this tense before the game, it is the final after all.” Wanda suggested, and Natasha thought for a second before agreeing.
Wanda retracted her fingers from your mouth, earning a whine from you. Her hands slide down to the hem of your jersey, pulling it over your head followed by your bra.
Her long fingers tugged at your perky nipples, using your spit that lingered on her fingers to wet them. Wanda looked up at Natasha, “Don’t just stand there, get over here.” Natasha hurriedly walked over to the bench, sitting down next to you.
Her lips attach to your nipple, biting and sucking. As she did this, Wanda’s hands worked at your tense arms and shoulders. It drove you crazy having your step-mom standing behind you, while your coach was latched to your nipple.
Natasha’s hands wandered across your stomach, tracing your abs. Her hand then slipped past the hem of your basketball shorts, teasing your clit through your soaked panties. Her mouth left your tit, capturing your lips.
Her tongue tangled with yours, and you were so caught up in the kiss you hadn’t noticed Wanda moving to sit on the opposite side of you. Wanda watched the two of you as Nat pumped her fingers into your pussy, and your tongues dancing with one another. She also hadn’t failed to realize the prominent bulge in Nat’s pants.
She kneeled down in front of Natasha, unbuckling her belt and tugging her pants down. Wanda’s hand rubbed Natasha through her boxers, causing her to groan into your mouth.
Wanda pulled her boxers down, her cock springing free from its restraints. Wanda admired the woman’s size, her hands pumped at Natasha cock a few times. Her tip leaked with pre-cum.
Wanda’s lips wrapped around the coach’s cock, sheathing her cock down her throat. The sight of Wanda sucking off your coach quickened the arrival of your orgasm. Nat removed her hands from your panties, making a show of her cleaning them off. Even having Wanda lick your arousal off them.
“C’mon baby, come help mommy suck your coach’s cock.” Wanda suggested, as she grabbed your hand leading you to kneel in front of Natasha. Your tongue ran down Natasha’s dick, as so did Wanda’s.
You both took turns sucking her off, but Natasha was most fond of the way Wanda pumped the base of her cock and sucked her balls, while you sucked the tip of her cock.
With one final squeeze at the base of her cock, Natasha’s cum spurted into your mouth, you taking everything she gave. “Open your mouth, let me see her cum in your mouth.” Wanda demanded, so you stuck your tongue out. “Spit it into my mouth.”
You complied, trying your best to spit Nat’s cum into her mouth. Once you did, Wanda’s lips latched to yours. Your lips moved hungry against each other, cum dripping down both of your mouths.
Natasha pulled you to your feet, pulling off your pants and panties then, onto her lap. Giving you a searing kiss on the lips. Wanda took hold of Natasha’s cock, guiding it to your pussy. As you sunk down on Natasha, you whined at her size.
She began to bounce you on her cock, while Wanda took your hand and guided you to her pussy. Natasha lips suckled at your nipples, her fingers dug into your hips. You tried your best to finger Wanda as well as possible, but Nat’s erratic pace made all thoughts in your head disappear.
“M’ gonna breed this little pussy.” Natasha husked against your chest, throwing all abilities to think out the door. “Here, come eat mommy out while Natasha fucks you.” Wanda spoke up, aching for her own release.
Natasha helped you lay down, spreading her legs and shoving her cock back into you. Wanda straddled your face, her pussy hovered over your mouth. Your tongue flattened out past your lips, and Wanda began using your tongue to get off.
Wanda and Natasha shared a kiss as they both used you to get them own orgasms. Wanda furiously rode your face, while Natasha’s pace became unsteady. Her cock twitched, then her cum spilt from her cock. Yours and Wanda’s orgasms following quickly behind.
You lapped at Wanda’s pussy, drinking up all of her arousal. Nat pulled her cock out of you, your hole clenching around nothing. You whine at the empty feeling. “Hush baby, you gotta get out of here quickly. The game is about to start.” Natasha said.
Wanda quickly hopped of your face, then helped you collect your clothing and redress. She pressed a quick kiss on your lips. “You do good out there and I’ll reward you later on. Okay?” She whispered in your ear and you nodded, then she sent you on your way.
“What did you say to her?” Natasha asked as her eyebrow cocked. “Don’t worry about it coach, you better get out there too.” Wanda teased, and they both slipped back into their clothes.
Your team winded up winning the game, and Wanda kept her promise. Natasha also followed along.
Masterlist
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angelfrombeneth · 3 months
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MESSY - M . RIDDLE
Mature and Possibly Triggering Content Ahead
Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader
Summary: You and your bestfriend of 13 years have a bit of a spat, that turns into her being a shit friend. So you also return the favour.
Warnings: SMUT, Implied Cheating, Slight mention of violence, Your bestfriend is a shitty friend, You do something shitty, Dom!Mattheo, Sub!Reader, Not been proofread - expect slightly grammar errors.
A/N: Thought I'd switch it up with Theo and do a Mattheo short. This is just a random draft. It's not one of my best works but I wanted to put something out cuz it had been a while. I've been super busy w my studies so I haven't had time to finish my other fics or any asks. So please accept this for now 🫶
"Hey Erica!" You smiled as you skipped up to your friend. Erica had been your best friend for 13 years. Your mother's were best friends before your mum passed, you grew up together and stuck by eachother no matter what. Even when you both got sorted into two different houses; she got Slytherin and you got Hufflepuff. Despite all odds, you both at in 6th year still going strong.
Erica turned to look at you, her eyebrow quirked. "What?"
You stood before her, confused with her attitude. "I thought we could go hangout in the pavilion together?"
She turned to her group of Slytherin friends and snickered slightly, bidding them goodbye before looking at you. "Sure, Where's Cedric?" You looked at her weirdly while you both walked towards the pavilion.
"I'm not sure, why'd you ask?"
"No reason, just suprised your both always at eachothers hip, it's weird he's not"
"Your right.. I should ask him-"
"No!" She cut you off. "Its ok, ill ask him for you, maybe he won't tell you the real reason"
"Thanks Erica" You smiled. The pair of you sat in the pavilion and gossiped about many different things.
You spotted Pansy across the pavilion waving you over to her and her friends. "Hey, I'm going to see Pansy, ill see you later?" You stand.
"Her? You're friends with her" Erica scoffed, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Whats wrong with Pansy?"
"Everything, she's just a fucking whore. All those guys she's friends with she probably sleeps with them all she's a wh-"
"Erica stop it. I don't know what your deal is... Pansy is nice to me ok? Just drop it" You looked at her weirdly from her behaviour.
"Your right, I'm sorry. I'll go speak to Cedric now for you" She smiled before rushing off.
You shrugged it off and walked over to Pansy smiling.
"Y/N!" She cheered as you sat down next to her. "We were just talking about how cute you and Cedric are, 3 months now right?" Pansy smiled at you.
"Yeah, it's going great, im really happy actually"
"Thats so good, Although we always thought you'd end up with a Slytherin boy" Astoria snickered.
"Really? Who, I don't even really talk to many of the guys" You quirked.
"Probably Theo, he's the gentleman out of them all, the best choice other than my Blaise" Daphne smiled.
You smiled at her, Her and Blaise had been together since 2nd year. They were like the powerhouse couple of Hogwarts, perfect in every way.
"Pans, did you and Erica have an argument she seems to have a strong.. hatred for you" You looked to the girl beside you.
Pansy looked up at Daphne and Astoria and laughed slightly before taking your hand. "I never did anything to her, she's just jealous I'm friends with the guys. She keeps implying I'm 'fucking them all' but I'm literally gay" Pansy snickered.
"Thats literally what I thought, I thought everyone knew?"
"Everyone does, Erica is just fucking stupid" Tori scoffed, crossing her legs over eachother.
"Tori-" Daphne glared to her.
"Besides its because her and Mattheo have this thing or whatever, and me and him are close" She shrugged.
"Mattheo? As in Mattheo Riddle?" You raised your eyebrow.
"Yeah- Why?" They all looked at you weirdly.
"Isn't his dad like.. You-know-who?" You whispered.
They all laughed at you softly. Pansy patting you on the back.
"You're so sweet and innocent" Astoria cooed.
A loud bell chimed around the whole castle you all stood up.
"Fuck, I have potions" Astoria groaned.
"You'll live" Daphne laughed at her.
"See you around Y/N!" She smiled to you as you all parted ways.
You sighed as you walked into the castle.
Over the next few weeks you hung out more with Pansy, Daphne and Astoria. Everytime you'd hang out with Erica she'd ice you out or something. You also notice Cedric just get more and more bored with your presence which just didn't make you feel any better. You had wondered what Erica and Mattheo were considering she never once mentioned him to you. At all.
You sighed, as you stared down at your tea leaves, poking at them with your wand.
You felt a gush of wind beside you as someone sat in the always vacant seat.
"I know this seat isn't taken, so I will be sitting here" You heard. You looked up to see Mattheo, smiling down at you.
"I take notice when my favourite girls start hanging out with another person, which means you must be a goodie" He smiled at you. "Y/N, right?"
You nodded smiling. "I didn't realise you all were so close"
"We are like a second family, since our actual ones are pretty shitty" He snickered.
Over the following weeks you had grown close to all the Slytherins, hanging our with them all. Occasionally Cedric would come over but he wasn't that interested which just irked you. He had apologised for his lack of presence that made you feel a bit better.
You and Mattheo had become quite close, to him he was quite fond of you. Found you very cute. Erica didn't like your friendship with Mattheo all of a sudden and this was the brunt of most of your arguments. You always apologised then backed away from the group for a day or so, but it was just like a forever cycle.
You had discovered, Mattheo and Erica were dating but you were confused as to why she hadn't told you but you didn't want to take it to heart, there must've been a reason.
After class, you walked down the halls, students rushing quickly to make it to their next class, as you walked down towards the Hufflepuff entrance you noticed all the Slytherin boys all hanging in the kitchen.
"Feeding time at the zoo again?" You snickered. The boys all turned staring at you like deers caught in headlights. This wasn't the first time you'd come across them in the kitchen. You had grown close with the Slytherin boys recently, but you had grown to know them more for you sort exchanges everytime you see them feasting away.
"Fuck- Y/N you scared us. I thought you were a fucking teacher" Blaise sighed.
"Why are you guys always here on my free" You quirked your brow.
"We just wanna see you so bad!" Enzo whined as you chuckled.
"Where you off to in a rush anyway" Draco licked his finger from the pie covering it.
"M' meeting Cedric in the common room. I'll see you guys later" You smiled to them before walking a bit away from the kitchen and entering the Hufflepuff commonroom.
If you could go back to 2 minutes ago when you were laughing at the boys stuffing their face with pie. You would.
As you rounded the corner towards the opening of the commonroom to froze, hearing giggles and.. moaning? What freak would fuck in the common room, you scoffed. What you didn't expect was who. You decided to just ignore the sounds and quickly pass up to Cedrics dorm when you caught a glimpse of an oh so familiar green gem clawclip thrown across the floor.
"Erica?" You raised your eyebrow as you stared at the couch.
You watched as Erica sat up, disheaved hair and messy makeup before the other person sat up to. That person being... Cedric.
"Cedric- Erica what the fuck??" You shouted at them both.
"Y/N- He threw himself at me, I swear. We were just talming and-" She gasped, standing up and changing herself.
"What No??- It's not what it looks like- She"
"SHUT UP!" you screamed. "I'm not going to sit here and listen to your stupid excuses. You didn't slip and fall into her Cedric be fucking for real" You scoffed at him, storming up to him and slapping him across the face. Your voice cracked as you yelled and turned on your heels and ran from the common room.
"Y/N WAIT!-" Cedric yelled.
As you rounded the last bend the last thing you heard- "Wellthat was easy, see you later Cedric" Erica cackled.
You thought she was your friend, best friend forever. She was a fucking liar. A disgusting whorey liar. You sobbed as you ran from the commonroom towards the stairs. You ran past the kitchen, the slytherin boys noticing you running. You didn't stop, you had to go to Pansy. You knew she had a free and she was in her dorm. So you ran there.
Third POV:
"Was that Y/N?" Enzo poked his head out of the kitchen confused by your rushed nature.
"She was crying- I hope she's OK.." Theo hit his lip slightly nervous for you.
"She's fine, probably stubbed her toe or something" Draco snickered.
Mattheo and the boys decided to ignore the fact Y/N ran past crying and it probably wasn't any of your issues. That was until he noticed two people sneak past the kitchen.
"Who was that?" Enzo questioned.
"No clue" Mattheo shrugged.
Your POV:
The next few days you spend sobbing and skipping classes. Astoria, Pansy and Daphne took turns looking after you as you wailed in their arms. Not only had your friend relationship fucked up. He cheated on you and with your 'best friend'.
When you told the girls they were pissed. You practically had to talk Astoria out of certain violent consequences. They stayed with you and comforted you for ages. The first few days were crucial.
You had recieved owls from Erica, explanation in her own fucked up words how the situation wasn't at all what she thought it was and how it was just a huge misunderstanding. You couldn't help but scoff at her bullshit.
Three weeks had passed since everything you left Pansys after a few days and stayed boarded up in your room for an additional 2 weeks. No one came in and no one came out. The girls were concerned for you but understood you needed time.
News travelled that you and Cedric broke up but nothing about Erica being a home wrecker. When you finally left your pit after nearly 4 weeks you had seen significant changes. You were quite pale due to lack of sun and nutrients - you didn't look sick you just looked tired. People noticed and just felt.. bad for you. What really set you over the edge is in these 4 weeks not only had Erica homewrecked your relationship- she had clung to the people you had become to get comfortable with.
This was the second time Erica had done this to you. In 3rd Year you had started dated Adrian Pucey when she swooped in and was making out with him. She had told you he threw himself at her and she was so sorry she didn't mean to hurt you and you fucking believed her. Now this was just proof she was a bitch and she expected you to just forgive her which is what you'd do, but you had to come up with a plan.
You walked down towards the Slytherin common room, and up towards Erica's dorm. Erica only had one other dormmate but she was in the hospital wing currently due to a mishap in potions.
You knocked on the door and the door swung open to reveal Erica. A sickening smile spread across her lips as she let you in.
"Oh Y/N- I'm so glad your here. I need to explain everything to you" She wore a fake pout as she hugged you before pulling away.
She was rushing around her room fixing her hair and doing her makeup as she spoke to you. You sat on her bed.
"I was talking to Cedric, about what I said when he threatened me. He was saying about how he'd hurt you and how he'd do horrible things to you if I didn't sleep with him Y/N"
Really. Does she really think you'd believe this. You had to try your best not to laugh.
"Erica that is so horrible- I know you didn't mean to- You'd never do anything to hurt me" You smiled.
"Exactly!" She turned to look at you smiling. "He was a terrible boyfriend Y/N you can do so much better- Look stay here. I'll be back, I have to go see Mattheo in the hospital wing but I'll be back soon. Then we can have a girlie night" She smiled again. That fame smile was irking you.
"Of course" You smiled as she rushed out of the door leaving you. How stupid was she to think you'd believe her bullshit lies. You peered around the room, groaning. Why did she get to keep a boyfriend after all of this.
Speak of the devil, the door swung open to reveal Mattheo, leaning against the door frame as he quizzically looked at you.
"Y/N? Where'd Erica?" He asked.
"Mattheo? She said she went to the hospital wing for you-"
Mattheo rolled his eyes scoffing. "I came here to break up with that cheating slut and she's gone to cheat. How ironic" He laughed, venom lacing his tone. "I know your friends but seriously you can do b-"
"Actually we aren't friends" You cut him off. "I was here to listen to her bullshit excuses on why she fucked my boyfriend" You scoffed.
"Cedric too?" Mattheo scoffed. "I don't get it, I was actually a good boyfriend to her, for once I wasn't the asshole" He laughed mockingly.
Mattheo sat next to you on Erica's bed as the pair of you sighed. It was quite for a moment before you spoke.
"Maybe she needs a taste of her own medicine.." You peered to Mattheo, who was now smirking.
"A dark streak for a little hufflepuff like you? Do go on" He bit his lip as he stared down at you. Now you look at it, Mattheo was twice the size of you.
"Maybe we could.. you know" You looked down.
"I'm a changed man Y/N- but fuck, my old ways would always come back for you" He smirked, referring to his last two years of THE player and heartbreaker of Hogwarts.
Before you could reply you heard a soft chuckle before Mattheo's hands are instantly all over you. He kisses you softly but needingly. The way his lips move against yours as his hands grab at the plush of your thigh.
You could almost laugh at his neediness but it turned you on even more. You climbed onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him closer, needing more. Your tongues dancing upon eachother as you grinded down against his growing bulge. The softly moans he'd release into your mouth were enough to have you moaning.
You broke away shortly as the pair of you quickly stripped down to your underwear. You stood up, throwing your jumper and shirt off as you shimmied out of your skirt. Mattheo kicked off his trousers, throwing his jumper and shirt across the room just in time to catch you as he jumped onto him again. A light chuckle leaving his mouth as the pair of you sat pratically skin to skin.
"God you are so fucking hot" He smirked, biting his lip as you sat back down on his lap, as he sat at the end of the bed.
He watched as you, pulled your panties off, dropping them beside the end of the bed as you yanked at his boxers. Smirking as his cock sprung out and hit his stomach.
"So big, and you were all hers?" You smirked, pecking his lips softly as you pulled yourself closer, instantly sinking down on his length as you yelped at the size. His grip, harsh on you as his fingers dug into your hips,his eyes slightly rolling at the sensation.
"Fuck-" You sighed out as you wiggled down on him, reaching back to unclasp your bra and tossing it aside, before pulling him closer and smashing your lips onto his yet against as you grinded down against him.
You gasped, as he gripped your waist, thrusting up into you as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Dont be a bitch Y/N" He smirked against your mouth as your tongues tied to one another as your hands roamed all over. His hands reached to your ass, squeezing, gripping and slapping the flesh as much as he could as your hips buckled against his, his cock burying itself deeper inside of you.
"mm.. J-just like that" You sighed, reading your head against his shoulder as you rocked your hips back and forth against his, sighing at the sensation.
He couldn't handle it much longer as he threw you down against the bed, giving you time to get on all fours as he kicked off his boxers as he gripped your hips and began to piston into you. Your back arched as you gripped the sheets, your teeth sunk into the duvet as you whined into the cotton. You could practically hear his filthy smirk as you whined. His hands aggressively gripping at your love handles as he bounced against you, pulling you back harshly with each thrusted rebound. The way your skin slapped loudly against his as it collided. The way your ass, bounced against his thrusts sent him over the edge.
With each thrust, his hand would grasp at the flesh of your ass, squeezing it or slapping it as you whined down into the mattress. A filthy smirk spread across his face.
"Oh fuck!-" You gasped as you whined, eyes rolling back slightly as you gripped at the sheets.
"Good girl- Good fucking girl.. Taking it so well" He growled from behind. His voice just made you even wetter, the whole situation had your stomach in knots.
He continued on your ass as you gasped for air, his hand yanking at your hair, collecting it into a messy ponytail as he yanked you up and back against his chest. His free arm snaked around your waist, pushed down against your lower stomach, intensifying each thrust as you could feel the pressure of his arm. You whined out loudly, gasping at the sensation as he took the chance to let go of your hair and wrap a hand around your neck.
You gazed to the side to look at Mattheo, as he smirked, before kissing you roughly. His tongue instantly sliding into your mouth as you sighed into the kiss. Toying with his tongue as his cock made at home inside your walls. The way he thrusted in and out like he owned it had you on the edge.
You broke away momentary, gasping for air as he pulled away completely. The emptiness between your legs prominent as you whined, falling forward but catching yourself, moving to lay on your back against the bed, looking up at him.
"Miss me already" He laughed, sweat dripping down his body as he stared at you smirking, as he climbed ontop of you, kissing down your neck, sucking softly at the skin.
"Fuck- How can I not, when you look like that" You chuckled, running your hands up and down his naked body. You couldn't help but let your hand linger over his stomach, as your fingers dipped between the crevasses of his chiselled chest.
"You're bad, fucking your bestfriends boyfriend" He smirked, biting his lip as he hovered over the top of you, his hand pumping his cock as he stared down at you.
"She did it first, I'm just returning the favour" You smirked, pulling his neck as you pulled him into a kiss. You could feel Mattheo smirked against you as he lined up yet against to thrusts into you. His forehead against yours as he smirked down at you.
"You are so cute, shame it took this to see your dark side" He laughed as his thumb caressed your cheek softly, pecking your lips as he slowly slid back into you. You gasped, arching your back, as your chest pressed up against his as your body shook below him.
"God, I fucking love how you just melt at my fucking touch. So slutty" He laughed lowly in your ear, as he nibbled on the shell of it before biting at your shoulder and sucking on it as he began to thrust.
As he began the thrust at first they were soft, his lips peppering kisses all down your neck and collarbone as you whined softly under his touch. You watched as he licked the bruises that had formed across your skin as he smirked down at you. His smirk was sickening. Sickeningly sweet.
His cock sunk in and out of you like it was moulded for you. The way you whined and moaned into his ear had him harder than ever. He was obsessed with you and the pretty little sounds you made.
As he fucked you, he tossed your leg over his shoulder as he continued to fuck you at such an animalistic pace you were unsure if you'd make out of this in one piece. Your stomach, knotted at the pleasure. You hummed and whined as his cock thrashed in and out of you as he whined.
His lips capturing yours once against for a kiss, yet this time deeper. His lips moved so sensually against yours, as he kissed you with such passion. His hand, clasped around your neck as his tongue slid in and out of your mouth as the pair of you hummed. It was like time stopped and it was just you. You had never been fucked this good before, but thanks to Mattheo you now had.
You continued to whined with each thrust, gasping as you gripped at his hair, tugging on it. Mattheo's slight chuckles at every whine that left your mouth sent you spiraling.
As he kissed your deeper and fucked you harder you heard as scream, causing you both to pull away from the kiss. But that didn't stop Mattheo from railing the fuck out of you still. The pair of you looked over his shoulder to see Erica stood in the doorway. On urge you went to pull away from Mattheo in embarrassment but he held you down, smirking back at you as he sped up causing you to arch your back, screaming.
"Mhm- Fuck.. Your dick is so perfect" You whined as your gaze slightly lingering on Erica as the pair of you made eyecontact before you arched your back, leaning back and gripping the headboard. as he fucked you into the mattress. Your body recoiling against the thrusts as the bed creaked and shook.
The two of you edging closer to your high before you both case against one another. You pulled him closer as you kissed him deeply. Moaning softly into his mouth as you creamed his cock. Sighing softly as your body slowly loosened up.
Mattheo pulled away, smirking as he licked his lips. The pair of you had forget Erica was in the room and could more than happy stay like this until you heard a shrill shriek. "WHAT THE FUCK!" She yelled.
The pair of you untied from one another as you sighed, standing up and pulling your clothes back on, as Erica stood in shock at the two of you.
As you buttoned your shirt, you threw your jumper of your shoulders as you grabbed your heels before walking around Erica. "Just returning the favour" You smiled at her wholeheartedly. "Have fun cleaning" You turned to Mattheo before you left, shooting him a wink as he still led against the bed, bare naked.
"You- WHAT??" You could hear the cogs turning in Erica's head as you felt the scene before hearing crashing and screaming. Now she knows how you felt I guess, and well.
She deserved it.
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axelsagewrites · 3 months
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Felix Catton*Who is that?
Pairing: Felix Catton x f!reader
Word count: 1303
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Warnings: Farleigh being judgy, pure fluff
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It was during his first lecture when Felix saw you for the first time. he was sat near the back when you walked in and to Felix you were hard to miss. You definitely stood out being the only student in overalls and messy ponytail with a pencil shoved in it, but Felix found your get up oddly endearing.
He watched as you took the closest empty seat, the end chair in a row only 3 down from his which luckily gave him a great view of you. “What is she? A farmer?” Farleigh snorted when he caught sight of what Felix had been looking at.
Felix rolled his eyes at his cousin, “Lay off. I think it looks cool,”
“Yeah,” he scoffed, “If you’re poor,”
Luckily the professor walked in right at that moment so Felix could tune out Farleigh who wasn’t even paying attention to the class. Neither was Felix but at least he tried but his attention kept being drawn back to you.
Unluckily however for him was that when the class was dismissed you were instantly swallowed by the excited to leave crowd meaning Felix wasn’t able to get your name.
-
the next time Felix saw you was at the fellows’ gardens at oxford. It was a rare sunny day in Britan, so Felix was currently taking a wander through the gardens with his mates when he saw you. you were laying by a tree reading a book above your head to block out the sun.
it was something he often did himself during the summer holidays at Saltburn and the sight of you doing the same filled his heart with an odd sense of nostalgia that was only knocked away when one of the girls who had joined their wander latched onto his arm suddenly.
Not wanting to deal with Farleigh’s comments right now Felix decided that he’d excuse himself in a couple minutes and double back so he could finally get your name but by the time he’d came back to the tree you were nowhere to be seen.
-
It was only a couple days till he saw you again however this time you disappeared even quicker. He was walking out of oxford with Farleigh and some friends when you came whizzing past them on a skateboard with your headphones on.
“Who even uses a skateboard?” Farleigh rolled his eyes as you disappeared too quick for Felix to catch your attention.
“Do you have to judge everyone?” Felix found himself snapping before he’d given it much thought, “You’ve not even met her,”
“Okay geez,” Farleigh said, raising his hands in mock defence, “Didn’t realise I was insulting your girlfriend or something,”
Felix scoffed at his cousin, not quite understanding why the words seemed to hurt, “I’ve not even met her mate. You’re just being an arse,”
-
-
Felix suddenly found you popping up everywhere but never getting the chance to actually say hello. He got close one time, less than a foot from you when suddenly Olly came over to get his attention and by the time, he looked back you were halfway down the corridor.
He didn’t even know you, yet you were consuming his mind especially since none of his friends had heard of you either. He decided to go to the pub tonight to try get his mind off of it when it happened again.
Felix saw you walk into the bar by yourself. He didn’t want to sound so creepy, but he was mentally relieved that you hadn’t walked in with another guy and instead walked up to the bar and ordered a drink before heading to an empty two-seater table and pulling out a book.
“Look who showed up,” Farleigh teased when he saw Felix’s eyes on you, “Your girlfriends here. I swear you need to go and speak to her, or I will. It’s getting sad mate,” he scoffed but as much as Felix hated to admit it, he was right.
“Okay,” Felix said, puffing up his chest for confidence, “I’m doing it,”
Neither Farleigh nor Oliver had seen Felix look so nervous so both shot each other a confused glance as Felix mentally prepared himself, “Just go for its man,” Oliver told him, “Worst she could say is no,”
“Which she won’t cause no girl in the history of ever has,” Farleigh scoffed, “it’s annoying really,”
Felix ignored both of them and decided enough was enough as he found himself walking to your table. As he walked to your table, he saw the book in your hands more clearly. “I haven’t read that one, but I hear its good,” Felix said, snapping you out of your daze.
“Um yeah it’s good,” you said, half closing your book with your finger in between to keep its place.
“I’m Felix,” he said, stretching out his hand for you to shake and instantly regretting it when he remembered he wasn’t at his mother’s fancy dinners.
You however graciously laughed and shook his hand putting him out his misery, “Nice to meet you Felix,” you said and finally after ages of wondering he found out your name.
“Do you want another?” he asked, nodding to your near empty drink.
You however looked to his table which were all very obviously staring at you both, “I think your friends may miss you,”
“They can survive without me for say just one drink. I don’t want to keep you from it for too long,” he said, motioning down at your book.
Another soft laugh left your lips pulling him in deeper, “Okay. one drink,”
When Felix got up to get the drinks, he saw some cheap looking cardboard coasters and grabbed one. “Can I borrow a pen mate?” he asked the bartender who gave him it before finishing up the drinks. Felix quickly wrote his number and name on the back of the cardboard before picking up the drinks.
“Here and,” he said, sitting your drink down and taking your book out your hands and slipping the coaster in the pages, “here. So, you don’t lose your spot,”
“I agreed to a drink,” you said as Felix sat down, “who said I wanted company?” you said but the teasing smile on your lips made him laugh and the conversation quickly flowed as you both nursed your drinks for an hour.
Eventually you glanced at the time then frowned, “I should probably go I have an early lecture tomorrow,”
“Skip it,” Felix said, leaning on the table, “Stay a little longer,”
“I wish I could,” you said as you slipped the book into your bag without even checking the bookmark he’d left. “I’d say id see you tomorrow but,” you said as you stood up, “apparently you’re skipping that lecture,” you said making him quirk an eyebrow at you, “You’re in my class,”
“I know,” he said with a grin, “I just didn’t know you knew,”
“How could I not know? you look like a statue the uni commissioned,” you joked, and Felix found his cheeks heating up and his face flushing and for once not because of the alcohol, “See you around Felix,”
“See you,” he said, raising his hand to wave goodbye and internally being grateful when you turned around so he could watch you leave.
-
Honestly Felix wasn’t entirely sure if that whole conversation happened or if you were simply a mirage. However, when his phone buzzed that night, he knew you were definitely real, and he was thankful for it.
Unknown number – you’re a sneaky man
Felix felt his cheeks hurt from smiling as he typed back.
Felix – I just didn’t want you to lose your place
What Felix didn’t see however was the way you were laying in bed also smiling like a Cheshire cat at his messages.
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spookykoolkat · 6 months
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kinktober | pretty mama - j.m.
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kinktober day eleven - breeding
pairing: joel miller x plus size!reader
wc: 3.48k
summary: after the beginning years of telling your husband you weren't ready for a baby, your four year marriage anniversary came up in the fall and you were having a little bit of baby fever.
warnings: 18+ ONLY! NO MINORS ALLOWED!! teasing, fingering, slight car sex if you squint, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, creampie, u protected penetration (p in v), dirty talk, talks of being a mother, pet names, talks of getting you pregnant.
reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated and loved! THANK U SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS OMG!!! this ones for u guys!
⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧ °。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧
YOU DIDN'T REALIZE HOW MUCH joel craved to see you pregnant. something you found was a bit odd but after being married to joel for a few years, you realized it was more endearing than anything. 
it was like clockwork — every time you and joel had sex, he craved to fill you up. you always told him no, that you didn’t want him to cum inside of  you even though you yourself wondered of the outcome. 
not only did he have a small kink for wanting to watch his cum leak out of you, to think about you finding out you’re carrying a mini you and him in your womb – he ached for it. he imagined you walking around, swollen and round, achy feet and coming to him to make you feel better. to console you, to take care of you, to love you. 
but tonight, your four year marriage anniversary, you felt something different. something that you’d never felt before, something that you couldn’t even imagine wanting. 
joel couldn’t even wait before getting inside the house he fixed up for you, kissing you against the front door with his key jiggling in the doorknob. 
he took you to your favorite restaurant to celebrate, having a couple of glasses of wine and mindlessly laughing with each other, like a normal married couple. but you were feeling particularly needy. 
rubbing your heeled feet against his calf, rubbing up and resting your chin on your palm as his eyes grew dark. it was an exciting scene, and feeling your heel press into the thick of his thigh, he couldn’t wait to get you home any longer. 
you were dressed in a deep red dress that cinched at your waist and acted as a corset, flowing out down your hips. paired with your black pumps with the thick heel and your skin scented with your sweet perfume he loved - he couldn’t stop staring at you. 
“quit it,” he mumbled behind the wine glass, still letting you rub up to his crotch under the table. 
too dim to notice movement underneath, everyone too deep in conversation to acknowledge the couple next to them. 
“i’m not doing anything,” you said, using your fork to scrape against the plate. 
“i’m serious, honey.” 
and he was. because the minute the two of you left, he had your leg thrown over his thigh while he drove, his fingers curling up inside of your hole that leaked for him. 
“joel please,” you cried, gripping onto the seat as your pretty red dress sat above the thick of your thighs. 
“what is it, baby? what do ya need?” his condescending voice only made you clench harder around his fingers, feeling your cunt throb in response. 
“you! i need you, please,” he only curled his fingers at a relentless pace, the only thing being heard was the light sound of the radio and your cunt gushing around his fingers. 
“oh? you need me? ‘s that why you were actin’ all needy in there?” he smirked, coming to a red light and being able to watch himself finger your hole, watching you sink into the leather seat and prop yourself against the door. 
luckily for you, joel had just the perfect amount of tint to prevent anyone from really seeing how you get for him. even though he wouldn’t mind, he liked the thought of claiming you in every way. 
but now, joel opened the door finally and pushed you inside to aim for the bedroom. 
“what do you need from me, sweetheart?” he asked, fingers tugging at the buttons of his white dress shirt after shucking off his shoes and blazer. 
your fingers were tugging at your panties already, still walking backwards to the main hall of your home. as you watched him walk towards you while taking off his top, you shook your heels off to take off a few inches of your height and finally reach the bedroom that was lit by the fairy lights you hung up — ones that joel fought you on, but you won anyways. 
the back of your knees hit the bed when you felt a cool breeze from the autumn wind blow through the open window, and you sat on the mattress while leaning on your palms. 
he stood in front of you, shirtless and unbuckling his pants as he stared you down: 
“i think,” you sighed dramatically, “i think i need you to fill me up.” 
-
he wasted no time to strip off his clothes and yours, leaving both of you bare as he crawled on top of you and spread your legs with his calloused hands. you might say that his hands are your favorite thing about him, but it seemed like every part of him drove you mad without trying. 
“do ya know what you’re sayin’ right now, baby?” joel asked, humming into your neck as he kissed and licked over the skin. 
you stared at the ceiling, a smile on your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your cheek into his. 
“mhm, i know. i need it, joel. need to know how it feels when you cum inside of me,” you said lowly into his ear, and you swore you heard him practically growl as his hand snaked between your bodies. 
“you want me t’ knock you up? you gonna let me put my babies right here,” he asked, pressing down on the fat of your lower tummy before inching his way to your mound. 
you just nodded, whining as you felt his hand start to spread your cunt. 
“joel, please, need you to breed me, please,” before you could cry for him again, his hand swiftly goes to grab you by your jaw and chin, squeezing the chub of your cheeks together so he can graze his nose against your ear. 
“say it again, tell me again,” he growled, and you bucked your hips up to try to rub your cunt against his bare cock, but he kept you down. 
“fuck, cum inside of me please, please knock me up,” 
you heard something animal like come from his throat, grabbing you harshly and pulling you up to lay back on a few pillows. he grabbed you by your thighs and pushed them up, exposing your sex to him so he could see every detail. 
he needed to admire you like this, the way your tummy bulges more than usual because of your knees near your chest, the way your thighs pushed the lips of your cunt together — covered in your slick. he loved watching you like this, seeing how you let him maneuver you however he wanted. 
still, with your legs pressed together against your chest as far as they could reach, joel sat on his knees and guided his tip between the thick lips of your cunt. he watched as your pussy covered him in your arousal, only watching as he slid between the lips, up your cunt and between your thighs. 
“such a  pretty baby, gonna let me pump you full? full of me?” he huffed as he fucked between your thighs, rubbing his shaft and balls over your cunt. 
your arms wrapped around the back of your thighs to hold yourself for him, and he smiled, kissing your calf and up your feet. moving his cock from rubbing between the fat of your thighs, he slowly let his member spread your cunt generously to rub over your hooded clit, down to prod at your tight hole. 
“yes, please, fill me baby,” you whined, feeling him start to sink into you, inducing you to stretch and mold around him. 
“mmm, fuck, always thinkin’ of fillin’ you up, always thinkin’ what you’d look like carryin’ my babies,” he grunted, taking over where you held your legs for him, spreading them wide and slotting between them. 
“fuck, joel please, please,” you were begging, aimlessly, but he only gave you more inches as he maneuvered his hips to slide further inside of your warmth. 
you could feel the way his cock made its way into your cervix, the way he pumped in and out of you slowly after finally bottoming out made you feel every curve, every vein, the way his head nudged the spot you couldn’t reach with your fingers. 
his mouth was everywhere, all over you as he pumped in and out of you kissing over your hot skin and the birth marks you had on your shoulders and neck. the dark freckles you hated, the stretch marks you thought you had too many of past the acceptable amount, the hair you tried to shave on your arms when you were a child — he worshiped all of you at every given moment. 
his arms snaked under your body, hooking over your shoulders to have leverage to keep his pace relentless. he held you close to his body, using every ounce of strength he had to make sure you didn’t have to lift a single limb to do any of the work. 
another thing about joel — he loved to just watch you take everything he had to give you. 
“that’s right baby, hold on to me, let me make you feel good, gonna make sure i put a baby in ya,” he whispered in your ear over the wet slaps that bounced off the walls, and you listened. 
you wrapped your thick legs around his waist, locking him in a hold with your calves as your arms wrapped around his, still holding you by your shoulders to keep you on his cock. your moans and whimpers would sound desperate, like you’d never be able to have him like this again, and you gripped at his forearms with your manicured nails. 
he loved when you were like this. desperately trying to get him closer, anymore closer to you than he already was, trying to grip onto him, to ground yourself with him. but it was never enough, you could never get enough of joel. no matter how many times he’s fucked you, or had you like this — you needed more. 
the thought of joel being a father to your kids never failed to make you swell with warmth, it never failed to make you fuzzy at the thought of joel claiming you in another sense. to make you a mother, the mother of his children, to have that tie forever and so everyone can know who you are made for — it sent a different type of pride in you. 
he wanted to get you pregnant, show the world that he had you to create and hold a life that you both had something to do with. to show everyone that he is the only one who could give you the world and more, to know that he’s practically locked you down in every way gave him a sense of security. 
the thought only sent your cunt to clench around the girth of his cock, something you’d never get used to be thoroughly enjoyed every time he gave himself to you. 
“fuck, fuck joel, fuck! so good, so so so good, wanna have your baby so bad,” you cried, and joel grunted at the thought as he situated himself on his knees. 
his hands were sunken into your plush tummy, hands gripping the fat of your body to hold up half of his weight and hold you down, as if you were going to slip away from him. he held you to the bed with his hands, pulling back and watching your legs unwrap around his waist to being held in the air, bent at the knee. without missing a beat, joel’s mouth hangs open a little at the sight and moved his hands from holding you by your waist, to grabbing your legs and holding you spread open by your thighs. 
this way, he could see every bit of you, the way your cunt sucked him in and made obscene sounds of squelching, how your tits looked pressed together, bouncing with fervor to each thrust. he imagined how they’d look when you were pregnant, how they’d fatten and round up as a response to your hormones and child-bearing body. 
“i know honey,” he cooed, licking his lips as he watches his cock disappear in and out of your cunt, “such a pretty pussy, ain’t lettin’ no on else have ya, you’re mine baby, all fuckin’ mine,” 
his southern accent came out more in his grunts and moans, losing concentration of anything else but you. 
he couldn’t imagine you getting any sexier, more desirable until he thought about you with his baby. after, especially. seeing you in a rocking chair with the baby in your arms, reading a story or cuddling them until they fell asleep. he remembered when he first met you. so outgoing, couldn’t get you to stay home, partying and doing all types of drugs. to be frank, he wasn’t approving of your way of life. 
he always worried about you, had to pick you up shitfaced at clubs, wanting to make sure you weren’t getting into any trouble. of course you did, there was a time joel had to bail you and tommy out of jail together because the two of you thought it was smart to get into a tussle at the bar with an obnoxious couple. joel never trusted tommy after that, mad at him for letting you do that, but you had to step in and tell him it was your decision. 
after that night, joel let you know how he felt. how your reckless ways weren’t fair for him, how he worried about you constantly, hoping you don’t end up drunk in a ditch somewhere. thinking about you now, asking him to make you a mother, only going out when joel went with you because you got tired of going out every night with your friends as you got older. now when you get drunk you aren’t crazy and sloppy, you were giggly or emotional. he admired your growth, and it even made him smile with pride realizing even though you changed some of your ways, you were still you at heart. 
he just knows you’re going to be the cool mom, the fun, exciting mom. he didn’t mind taking the burden of being the one to discipline and being not so fun to be around, it just made him flutter at the thought. knowing you went from crazy, wild and a party girl to wanting to be the mother of his kids made him warm. he had never loved anything as much as he loved you. 
“gonna be such a pretty mama, ain’t you? my perfect fuckin’ wife,” he growled, almost to himself as he stared down at you. 
no matter what, every time joel looked at you, you felt heat rush into your cheeks. this doesn’t change, not even when your bare underneath him. 
your eyes focus on his, watching his hair tousle and sweat form on his body. you couldn’t think, not even what to do with the rest of your limbs he wasn’t gripping onto, so you just hooked your arms under your calf, and held yourself open for him. 
“good fuckin’ girl, already knows what to do for me,” he smirked, watching you hold your folded position as far back as you can to open your cunt for him, just so he can see the hood of your clit between your lips and watch your hole flutter around his cock as you watched him. 
every time he soaked you in, you couldn’t help but clench. joel enjoyed watching you almost as much as you enjoyed watching him watch you. 
he smacked you on your ass a couple of times, stinging with every thrust he began to speed up with. your breath was being knocked out of you, no air in your lungs as he fucks into you to try to angle himself to hit your g-spot. it didn’t take much at all, especially not even he bent his knee to plant one foot on the bed and burying himself to a hilt. 
watching him like this, have so much desire and want for you enough to scrounge up any way to just be further pressed into you made the bundle of heat in your lower tummy nearly explode. 
“please, please, please cum in me, please, want your cum so bad, make me yours, wanna be good for you,” you rambled, breathy sentences coming out and not completely clear to you, but very clear to joel. 
he felt himself losing control watching you take his length, watching the ring of your arousal build on his cock. he couldn’t get used to how drenched you became at the sight of him, how slick you felt every time he slid between your folds. how his face and the scruff of his grown out beard would always be soaked coming up for air from your cunt — it was addicting. 
because he could be between your legs for hours, until you finally begged him to stop, to let up on your sore sex. 
“always so wet f’me, always ready to take my cock, always ready f’ me to plant my seed right,” he trailed, grabbing one of your hands from the backs of your thighs and using it to push onto your lower tummy that slightly hung over your mound, “here,” 
his hand rested on yours, and watched as your eyebrows furrowed into pleasure, your eyes fluttering and felt as if they were going cross eyed. vision blurred as you felt the undeniable pressure of your release threatening to spill over. you could feel him in your stomach, you could feel him everywhere. 
“such a pretty mess, ready for me to make her a mama, wantin’ t’ be mine forever, let me breed her pretty cunt whenever i want,” he whispered, and moved his hand down to your cunt to gather your juices that was covering his cock and spread it to your clit. 
he stuttered a moment, enjoying the way your hips tried to fuck back onto him, wanting to meet his thrusts with persistence. when you finally got into the rhythm, joel used his two fingers to rub firmly onto your clit. 
“gonna look so pretty filled with my cum, ain’t that right? cum for me, baby, make a mess on my cock pretty girl, let me feel you,” his words were too much for you, wanting to hold on for him, to cum together but it looked like you couldn’t help yourself. 
“gonna cum, gonna cum, joel, m’ c-cumming for you,” you moaned, followed by a heavy gasp caused by the jolts of your body after the knot in your tummy pulled apart and unraveled under him. 
he was the only one that could pull that reaction from you, the only one who got to see you shake under his hold, and god did he love it. he loved how you milked his cock until he felt his hips go sloppy, grabbing you harder than he knows, his mouth hanging open as he winced from the overstimulation of your cunt not letting go. 
he could do this over and over again, except this time, cumming inside of you was an entirely new situation. not only were you dripping down his shaft, but his last few thrusts into you and he came with a gravelly moan, one that made you throb around his cock. 
it was almost beautiful the way he made you feel warm, inside and out. the ropes of his hot release coated your walls entirely, and his hips slowly kept gliding in and out of you very softly. in his mind he was making sure you had a chance of carrying his baby, and even if not, he’d have the chance to do it over and over again until then. 
it’s all he could dream of really, filling you up with the purpose of making you a mother. 
“baby,” he breathes, letting your legs lay straight on the bed, his weight falling onto your body and he traps you. 
your bodies are sticky, covered in sweat and spit, your juices coating his entire groin and the bed. it was lovely, something that wasn’t at all sexual given how unflattering it is to be sweaty, disheveled and out of breath, but still you had a sense of lust and desire for him. love, is what you felt. and love was sensual, sexual, emotional, spiritual — it was everything. 
and as you laid there under joel while he gave small kisses over the skin exposed to him, playing with his hair and joel whispering to tell you how you are going to be the most amazing, beautiful mother there is — you couldn’t have imagined having a kid, being a mother, especially not to anyone else’s child. anyone but joel. 
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i hope u enjoyed! thank u so much for the support and for reading!
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metalhoops · 1 year
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‘Of course, I remember you.’ 
As far as first words go, Eddie’s were a hell of a head-scratcher. 
To catch up the uninitiated, everyone in the world has a soulmate. It’s been debated and speculated if a person can have more than one, but the mechanics behind soulmates was a pseudo-science at best and downright magic at worst. The first words a person’s soulmate spoke to them were inscribed somewhere on that person’s body, typically in their soulmate’s handwriting. 
Doesn’t handwriting change over time? The uninitiated might ask, to which Eddie would repeat, it’s pseudo-science or magic. Either that or something like quantum mechanics, where people are pretty sure, one day we’ll understand how it works, but right now there are a lot of theories and only a little bit of evidence, most of which contradicts itself.
Most of the time, the words are boring and wholly unhelpful. He could count on two hands the number of people that simply had some variation of ‘hello’, tattooed somewhere on their body. From Eddie’s point of view, he got lucky. 
He had a sentence of scratchy scrawl written on his inner arm stating, ‘of course, I remember you’. And really, what the hell was Eddie meant to make of that? 
Typically, your tattoo lets you know you’d found your soulmate upon first meeting, but his words implied he’d meet his soulmate before they first speak and that it would be memorable. Wasn’t that goddamn frustrating? 
His soulmate’s first words were right up there with ‘hello’ in Eddie’s list of ‘top five worse soulmate marks,’ because how the hell were those poor bastards meant to know if they’d just met the love of their life or if it was just their weird neighbour Tom? With his number one spot reserved for Gareth’s truly horrific, ‘I’d thought you’d be taller’. His soulmate was original. He’d give him that. 
There was no surefire way to know your soulmate’s gender, same as there was no surefire way for a mother to ‘just know’ a baby’s gender before it was born. Yet if Eddie was being sacrilegious, as he so often was, he’d say he ‘just knew’ his soulmate was a guy. 
There was nothing in the handwriting that gave it away. Nothing particularly ‘feminine’ or ‘masculine’ about the lettering. But ever since Eddie was a kid whenever he thought about his soulmate, he’d always think of them as ‘him’. 
He would like this or that. He wouldn’t be an asshole, like the meathead jocks at Hawkins. He would be different. He’d be kind, caring, and of course, a total badass. Eddie just had to wait to meet him. 
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Steve’s soulmate mark drove him crazy. 
‘You might not remember me’. 
What the hell was Steve meant to do with that? Soulmate tattoos were meant to let you know when you’d met your soulmate, not that you’d already met them. In the days before Steve received the shake-up of his life in the form of Nancy Wheeler and the Upside Down, he had a reputation for sleeping around. He knew back then he’d been a little hopeless, but surely he’d said more than a couple of words to a girl before he slept with them. 
It horrified Steve that he could meet his soulmate, in some respect, know them, and yet had never talked to them. Could he really be that much of a jerk?
He’d never thought Nancy was his soulmate. He knew their words didn’t match up. That didn’t mean he loved her any less. Statistically, the odds of meeting your soulmate were somewhere between getting crushed by a vending machine and winning the lottery. Steve’s parents weren’t soulmates and boy did that show, but a guy could dream. Call him a hopeless romantic, but Steve was holding out hope for them. 
He’d almost thought his soulmate was Robin. It fit, right? They went to the same school, but they’d never really talked. He’d been so busy with his first day at a real job, he’d missed Robin’s first words to him. It wasn’t until later he’d started to expect it might be her. That was, until the pair were huddled beside each other on the floor of a bathroom stall. Robin was a lesbian and her first words, although interesting, definitely proved they weren’t soulmates. 
When Steve was a kid, he’d spend hours daydreaming about what his soulmate would be like. She’d be outspoken. She’d be bold. She’d be able to make him laugh. When he’d gotten older, something changed. He didn’t know how to put it into words, at least not ones he was ready to say out loud. ‘She’ didn’t fit his soulmate quite right. So after high school, he started wondering what ‘they’ would be like. ‘They’ felt not quite right, but closer. 
Their handwriting was distinct. It was all sharp-edges and odd-angles. It looked like it was trying to replicate something Steve couldn’t quite place until he walked into the record store at Starcourt and caught a glimpse of an Iron Maiden album cover. That gave Steve his first real clue as to what his soulmate might be like. 
It would be another year before the same handwriting would stop him in his tracks. Dustin had marched into the Family Video store as they were shutting up shop, brandishing a notepad and talking about needing a ride to go play his fantasy game. Steve was always going to drive Dustin, but he’d been dragging his feet, to show the kid he wouldn’t always drop everything to take him places. A familiar sharp edged, odd angled handwriting stopped Steve cold. 
“What are those?” Steve asked, trying to fain disinterest as his heart pounded in his ears. 
“They’re notes from the last session. You know, so we can keep track of what’s happened so far in the campaign. Who’s doing what quests, how many hit points everyone’s got. Mike is currently—.” Steve couldn’t give a crap about Mike. 
“Who’s writing is it?” Steve tried not to sound as desperate as he felt. 
Robin must have known something was up because she moved to Steve’s side. With one glance at the notepad, she understood why Steve was acting so strangely. She’d seen his tattoo, she knew it was his soulmate’s handwriting. 
“Our D.M.’s” Dustin replied. He might as well have been speaking in freaking code. 
“Alright, I’ll drive you,” Steve gave in, hoping he could catch a glance of his soulmate. Maybe his tattoo was wrong, maybe he’d know his soulmate when he saw them. 
They pulled up outside of the high school. He saw a group of people loitering outside the auditorium. Dustin had brought a lot of loose sheets of paper, so it only made sense Steve helped him carry his notebooks in. Most of the people there were familiar faces, the kids he’d babysat with a few exceptions. 
“Well, if it isn’t our favourite bard. I’m glad you decided to grace us with your presence,” an oh-too-familiar voice crooned. A boy broke away from the crowd to meet Dustin. 
He was Steve’s age. They’d gone to school together. The dude used to do all these weird soap-box sessions on their lunch table. They had gym together, and history. Steve didn’t think the two had ever actually spoken.  
“I would’ve been here quicker if I hadn’t had to play twenty questions with Steve. Steve, you know Eddie, our D.M.? Weren’t you two in the same year?” 
Eddie was practically shooting daggers at Dustin’s side profile, shaking his head discreetly as though hoping Steve didn’t remember who he was. He supposed Eddie always had a reputation. 
“You might not remember me,” Eddie spoke before Steve could answer. 
Holy shit.
“Of course, I remember you,” Steve argued and watched as Eddie’s eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates. 
Both boys stood, slack-jawed and stiff-shouldered, peering at one another. Steve’s brain short-circuited, because holy shit, Eddie Munson was his soulmate. Holy shit he’d found them, him. 
Steve dropped Dustin’s notes and swarmed forward without thinking, throwing his arms around Eddie. Much to his surprise, instead of freaking out, like any normal person, Eddie was waiting to catch him, leaving both of them to tumble ass backwards onto the parking lot asphalt.
They held each other in a bone-crushing hug. Steve buried his face in Eddie’s neck, surprised at how naturally the action came. He’d never hugged a man like this, hell he’d hugged no one like this. He was clinging so desperately to the man that he’d never thought he’d really find. Eddie pulled back slightly, trying to get a better look at Steve’s face. The guy’s eyes were alight with wonder and mischief. 
“That was quite an entrance, Harrington. All for little old me?” 
“I’ve been looking for you forever,” Steve admitted. 
“Well, clearly you’ve been doing a shit job of it,” Eddie argued which earned a snort from Steve. His soulmate would be able to make him laugh. 
“You’re not disappointed, you know? That your soulmate is the town Freak?” 
Steve had given up on caring about labels, on caring about what other people thought. Since high school, he had changed. He was different.  He didn’t want to be just another, shallow, meathead jock. He wanted to be different. 
“No. Absolutely not. Why would I care?” 
Dustin shattered the moment, clearing his throat and proclaiming,
“Alright, anyone care to tell me what the hell just happened?” 
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sucker4colby · 10 months
Text
Party’s over
Part 1
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Summary: Colby fucked up bad. Choosing his girl best friend amber over his girlfriend on his girlfriends birthday.
Warning: cussing, angst, fluff between best friends, insecurities.
Pairing: Colby Brock x female reader.
I could feel jakes sympathetic gaze on me as I paced back and forth biting the nail on my thumb, a habit I exhibited when in distress. There was no way you could miss how uneasy I was, the anxiety stinking up the room. “ maybe he’s caught up in traffic.” His voice broke the silence in my bedroom. I closed my eyes in annoyance letting out a sigh, I wasn’t annoyed at Jake I was annoyed at my boyfriend Colby. We had been together 2 years and for some reason he chose today of all days to flake on me, my 25th birthday. I turned to face the boy who sat on my bed trying to comfort me. “ he hasn’t messaged me all day Jake. I woke up and he was gone. No happy birthday nothing.” I told him blinking rapidly to push back the tears threatening to spill over my water line.
He nodded dropping his head knowing we both knew Colby had forgotten my birthday so there was no use in giving me false hope. I stared up at ceiling trying to make sure no tears dropped on my makeup I had worked hard on. I wouldn’t lie but I was hurt, I never cared to make a big deal out of celebrating my birthday as long as I was surrounded by the most important people in my life, Colby being the most important of them all had convinced me to make a fuss this year only for him to leave me hanging. The clenching i felt in my chest traveled up to my jaw as my feelings shifted from being sad to being furious.
A knock broke the silence causing Jake and I to look at who was entering my room. “ hey, sorry, i couldn’t get a hold of him.” Sam waved his phone at me giving me a sympathetic smile. I nodded reaching up weakly to smooth my hair down from me running my hands through it so much. “ I’m sure he’s fine , you should come down and enjoy your party.” The blonde boy tried consoling me. “ he better be lying in a ditch bleeding out.” I snapped instantly feeling bad but I was angry his location was off and he wasn’t answering my calls or messages. I never checked Colby’s location but we had shared it in case of emergencies back when we were just friends. I just couldn’t believe he wasn’t here , I had brushed every red flag off indicating he had forgotten thinking maybe he was planning a surprise trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.
I followed the two boys out of my room and downstairs to where my birthday party was being held. The loud bass of the music vibrating throughout my body dulling the already present ache there.
I was wished a happy birthday by hundreds of people but none of them being the person I really wanted, only spreading the sadness throughout my body. I faked a smile and cheered along with everyone accepting a couple drinks to help me forget why I was down. Honestly fuck Colby wherever he was, I didn’t need him to enjoy myself, I found myself thinking as I threw my head back downing a shot of tequila earning cheers from a couple people surrounding me. I laughed throwing my arms up and cheering along with them momentarily forgetting my concerns.
I felt my phone buzz in my left pocket so I reached down to grab it walking away from the make shift bar in the kitchen. I furrowed my eyebrows in confused at the notification stating that Colby Brock had posted on his instagram. I had alerts on for whenever he posted so i thought it was odd since he wasn’t responding. Clicking on it his posted showed up, a mirror pick of him and amber, amber smiling big and leaning her head on his shoulder. My smile dropped and my body ran cold making me freeze in the middle of the room. He had forgotten my birthday because he was hanging out with amber, I knew they were friends and I didn’t have a problem until they started getting flirty with each other.
I was fighting back tears faking a smile at a friend who cheered walking past me. How could I be so stupid of course he would forget the moment he was with her. She’s beautiful and I’m just me, she had full plump lips, flawless skin, her body was to die for and here I am, plain and ordinary me. My skin all of sudden felt dirty and I felt like I looked ridiculous wearing these jeans and revealing shirt, my makeup felt heavy and caked on now and I know you could see the pimple I had on my cheek. Wiping the stray tear on my left cheek I put my head down and rushed to the bathroom to recollect myself.
My arm was tugged back making me fall into sams chest where he wrapped his arms around me. I looked up at him not able to hide my watery eyes and pouting lips. “ I’m sorry bubble, he fucked up and I let him know he isn’t aloud near you when he gets home” he comforted tugging me towards my original location. I guess he had seen the post as well but I’m just glad he knew his best friend fucked up. I couldn’t stop the water works once the blonde boy called me by my nickname, and I couldn’t help but think why was Sam here and not Colby. I sobbed clinging onto him wishing I was dreaming and I was hugging my blue eyed boyfriend instead of crying over him. He shushed me rocking us back and forth patting my head hoping it would calm me down which it did for a bit.
“ Katrina will come up with you while I try to kick people out ok ?” He asked making me look up at him. I nodded thankful that I could count on Sam to be there for me. I raced up the stairs hoping not many people saw me and rushed into my room changing into some sweat pants and big hoodie. Katrina had walked in with some water and snacks as I was rinsing my face off placing them on my bed and walking into my bathroom.
“Hey bubbles, how are you holding up.” She asked handing me my towel to dry off my face. I pouted at her looking at her with my bloodshot eyes knowing she already knew the answer. “ come on, Colby’s a dumbass.” She pouted back bringing me in to hug her. “ I didn’t think he was this big of a dumbass.” I sniffled angrily nuzzling my head into her shoulder. My phone started ringing from the bed making us both look at it. My lip trembled as I saw the familiar caller contact pop up, a picture of Colby and I smiling into our kiss reminding me how much It hurt that that I loved him so much when he was doing the bare minimum. Kat reached out turning my phone off causing me to raise my eyebrows at her.
“ he’s been ignoring you all day, we’re just matching his energy.” She shrugged guiding me towards my bed tucking me in and making herself comfortable as my big spoon, I couldn’t help but giggle at her accepting her cuddles. “ you know, if it doesn’t work out with Colby I could break up with Sam and date you.” She whispered causing me to close my eyes and let out a laugh. Of course kat would be the one to cheer me up, I considered her my best friend for that reason. Ever since we met, we hit it off always being there for each other and being each others number one fan.
We laid in silence her arms wrapped around me providing the warmth and love I sought from Colby. It broke me that my best friend was setting the standard higher than Colby was but it was opening my eyes. Maybe I loved Colby more than he loved me, and maybe that’s why it was so easy for me to show him and harder for him to show me. Maybe I had been so in love with him I was turning a blind eye to what was in front of me, he had gone out of his way to get amber tickets to a show she wanted to see for her birthday and I so stupidly had helped him get them calling around to different vendors to get them. Was I keeping him from being with the person he really wanted to be with? Amber wasn’t a bad person so I know she would never try to purposely ruin my relationship but this was on Colby.
Tears dropped down my cheeks as I laid there silently hoping I wouldn’t wake Katrina who had just fallen asleep. I wanted to sink into the bed and disappear, was I really that replaceable or forgettable. I could hear Sam downstairs making an announcement that the party was over, somehow that made my heart break even more. The party was over and he was still at her house, he had been with her all day not even bothering to let me know he was ok.
Pretty soon all you could hear were Kats light snores and the crickets outside as everyone had left. Sam had some in to say goodnight before making his way into his own room deciding to let kat sleep with me since I seemed to need her more. As I laid there for a couple hours in self pity I heard the familiar engine of his red corrola pull into the drive way and the door shut. I screwed my eyes shut trying to fight even more tears from falling at each sound of his footsteps climbing the stairs. I honestly didn’t know what I wanted from him, did I want him to leave me alone or did I want him to make things right. Did I just want the chance to be petty back or did I want to fix things. My breath caught in my throat as he stood right outside my door his shadow visible from under the door my heart pounded and I could hear it in my ears. I don’t know how I kept myself from shaking as he opened the door to peak in, I pretended to be asleep hoping it was make him go away.
He never did come in, he shut the door and walked away.
____________
Hi guys ! I know I haven’t been posting but Ive had writers block 😭
Im hoping to make this a two part series so stay tuned ! Let me know if you have any suggestions!
Also It’s been weeks and I can’t wrap my head around the fact that Sam and kat are broken up 💔
As for the nickname bubbles I literally just pulled that out of my ass, I’m trying to refrain from giving my characters a name or using y/n.
2K notes · View notes
ethereal-night-fairy · 3 months
Text
Silver Tongues, like Bullets
Chapter 2
Werewolf!141 x Female Reader
Your camera held darker secrets than any of the men anticipated. It was also the first nail in your coffin. They may have let you go had they foregone seeing those pictures.
Warnings: MDNI, dark themes, manipulation, drugging, punishments, kidnapping, non-con touching, non-con looking, stealing nudes, breast slapping, groping, manhandling, implied jerking off, poly 141 taking care of reader, BDSM themes?,
(images used does not indicate the reader it's just an aesthetic photo)
Comments and reblogs appreciated 💗
Silver Tongues like Bullets Masterlist
Masterlist
Word: 6k
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-23/11/2023
A blanket of darkness had fallen over the cabin, the night air getting much icier than before. Not that it bothered any of the boys. They had thick skin and were susceptible to surviving in harsh weather. It was you who they were worried about. It was a shock when they all first saw you. No one was supposed to be able to find this place, not easily that is. It has caused a slight rift in the dynamic of the pack. With Gaz and Soap wanting to help you and him and Ghost walking on the edge of caution. In the end they decided to wait and see. And if they thought they needed to they'd have you restrained until they could confirm your innocence.
Soap had gotten you a blanket but you were still shivering even with the fire burning hot. Price was growing suspicious. Were you purposely acting pitiful to gather their trust? Were you trying to make yourself out to be less of a threat? Gaz looked at you with pity as he started plating the food for everyone. A nice cut of venison with some military ration sides. Ghost seeing you weren't able to regulate your body heat goes to gather more wood from the wood pile. While all this going on Soap can't help but ask you every question under the moon. You were quiet and reluctant to answer anything too personal.
Price comes out of the cabin with a first aid kit. You tense up when he approaches you. Like you were just looking for a chance to run. Your behaviour was strange. You were the one to ask for help yet you looked like you wanted to be anywhere but here. He didn't know what to make of it. His first instinct was to think you were a spy who was caught snoopy and just made a cover story to buy time. If that was the case they needed to stay on high alert if they were being watched by someone. For now he told his boys to stay on the edge of caution even after Ghost had secured the parameters. They couldn't be too careful.
Price came to sit beside you. Holding out his hands to look at your injuries. With some reluctance you eventually place your shaky hands in his. Price held your fragile skin with tenderness. Making sure to wipe away the blood and dirt with care. The damage wasn't extensive but you had certainly taken a fall somewhere in the forest on the way here. You looked disheveled and extremely tired. You flinch and whimper from time to time as Price applies pressure and the iodine on your busted skin. The sounds definitely caused emotions to stir in all of the men. Pair that with your intoxicating scent the situation was a little too convenient. Such a delicate thing you were, you didn't look like you could do much harm. But you can't really trust anyone, not in situations like these. They're been hunted for far too long to not be cautious of strangers approaching them for help. As lovely as you were, the timing and your behaviour was odd.
-
You held a cup of hot chocolate to your chest, the warm ceramic starving off the cold from your fingers. The blanket wrapped around wasn't doing much for you anymore, maybe you were coming down with a fever. But it was hard to tell because you were so tired. The situation wasn't ideal. You didn't want to be here. And by the looks of it the men didn't want you here either. Fatigue was settling in and you could feel your eyes drooping. The fire was on its last leg, only a couple embers glowing in the dark. You had offered to help clean up but they kindly told you to rest. You watch them mull around tidying up as Soap keeps you busy with idle chatter.
They didn't say much about themselves nor did they indulge you with your questions. The only information they gave you were their weird nicknames and that they were here on a short break after an extended work trip. You couldn't blame them, you wouldn't share too much information with a stranger either. Despite the shaky introduction the men were very sweet to you. Price had helped patch up some superficial cuts on your hands and legs, while Gaz got you something to eat and drink. You were even given a blanket when the fire wasn't enough to starve off the cold. They even offered to drive you into town the next morning. Your parents definitely warned you about trusting strangers, especially men but these four didn't seem so bad. Hopefully you'll be able to call them soon to let them know you were ok. Though you weren't looking forward to the lecture you were going to receive when you got home tomorrow.
Gaz had gone in first to set up your sleeping arrangements. Price followed soon after with the dirty dishes and utensils in hand. You sit for a while longer enjoying your conversation with Soap, despite his forward personality he seemed like a decent fellow. What unnerved you the most was Ghost, he hadn't spoken a single word to you as of yet. On top of that you could only see his eyes. You watch as he puts away the wood in a neat pile beside the cabin. He was a very big man, much bigger than the rest of them. His biceps bulge as he carries the heavy wood to their designated spot. They were all so rugged and well built it made some stir deep inside of you. No one in town looked like that. No one in town had made you feel this amount tingling between your legs.
You're totally oblivious to the fact Soap is watching you eye Ghost with intrigue or possibly hunger. Maybe a mix of both. You totally miss the full canine smirk gracing his features as you continue answering his questions, though a bit sluggishly. He watches your eyes flickering close signaling the effect of the medication slipped into your now empty cup.
The fire finally dies out, causing you to shiver despite having the blanket Soap draped over you. Soap gets up to escort you in while Ghost waits at the entrance of the cabin. You try standing up to follow him, but you find your feet to be unsteady. Everything felt woozy and unfocused, you felt two familiar arms wrapping around your waist, preventing you from falling over your own two feet.
“Careful thare lassie…wouldn't want ye getting hurt again”, he coils his arms around you tighter, taking the brunt of your weight as you try to formulate words in your mouth. He was definitely too close; his face was practically in the crook of your neck. You could feel his hot breath on your cold skin. You wanted to tell him to move, to tell him not to touch you so casually. But your tongue felt like lead. There was a weird aftertaste in your mouth that you were only just noticing. You couldn't move and you felt your head lolling over. Something was wrong…something was very wrong! The cup was in danger of falling from your hands as you tried speaking again. You still needed to ask to borrow a phone to call your parents to let them know you were ok.
You watch Ghost walk towards you, taking the cup from your hands while telling Soap to help you inside. With surprising strength and ease, Soap lifts you in his arms bridal style as your head rests on his shoulder. Your eyes are fighting to stay awake as small grunts and moans leave your mouth. You really couldn't form a sentence even if you tried. He coos and shushes you as tears form in your eyes from frustration. You didn't know what was happening, why couldn't you move? Did they drug you!?
The fire was roaring inside the cabin. The frigid air long forgotten as Soap carries you towards a bedroom. Your eyes were hazy but you could make out Gaz pulling back the duvet to allow Soap to lay you down in the very comfy looking bed. Your whimpers and whines ceased the second your head touched the pillow, your eyes becoming so heavy you had no choice but to close them. Your body sinks down into the cloud-like mattress soothing the ache in your bones. You feel them remove your shoes and then your jacket, moving your body with precision and ease. Their melodic voices whispering sweet words you couldn't make out anymore. Sleep was calling to you, trying to slip your head underwater like a siren. But not before you felt two pairs of lips on your forehead wishing you a restful sleep. Eventually you go under, everything fading into black as the warmth of the duvet surrounds your sore body.
-
“How did you get her down so easily?”, Price inquiries as he settles onto the sofa beside the fire.
“Slipped one of Ghost's melatonin tablets into her hot chocolate”, Gaz walks towards him settling on his lap after placing your phone, camera and jacket on the coffee table.
Once everyone is situated on the sofa that's when Price speaks up again.
“I don't know who she is or how she found us….this place was supposed to be hidden. Laswell organised this trip as an outlet for us to roam freely in our wolf forms. No one was meant to be here apart from us.”
“What if she's a spy?”, Ghost chimes in. “What if she was sent to gather intel on us…it's not the first time an organisation has tried kidnapping one of us.”
“I don't know…she looked pretty beaten up when she found the cabin and her phone was broken…She genuinely could have been lost. She also doesn't have much on her”, Gaz tried to reason with the rest of his lovers. “Not to mention her smell…it was very inviting.”
“Aye she dinnae look like she could dae much harm…But her pheromones were driving meh crazy when Price was patching up her cuts.” Soap reaches out for your jacket, giving it a quick sniff to confirm his findings. “Can we keep ‘er? Promise Ah'll treat ‘er gently…fragile little thing she is..would make a great addition to the pack”
“Let's not forget the last time we let someone close, sunshine here almost got a sedative to the neck”, Price grumbled while eyeing Soap.
“Her pheromones are very enticing…But we can't just kidnap someone because you like the way she smells, especially someone we just met. We should call Laswell to do a background check just to be safe”, Ghost offered while running his gloveless fingers through Soap mohawk.
“It might take a while to get the results and Gaz had promised to take her home tomorrow. But that could prove dangerous to us if she informs anyone of our whereabouts.” The men all nod in agreement as they chalk up a plan to keep you for a while longer, just until they can confirm you aren't a threat. Definitely not for other reasons…
Ghost grabs your phone to plug into his laptop to get any useful information that you hadn't disclosed already. Soap was happy enough beside him going through your pictures on your camera. He just wanted to confirm you weren't stalking them and taking pictures when they weren't looking.
Gaz and Price come to an agreement in pretending like the truck broke down tomorrow morning forcing you to trek back into town on foot, with Gaz guiding you. The only difference would be that Gaz would lead you into the wrong direction towards a nearby lake. They'll have to wait and see how you'd react to being baited.
Once everything was settled they put their plan into motion. Price gives Laswell a call as they crowd around the laptop having no shame in going through your personal information or the numerous pictures you have saved. They mirror your phone screen onto the laptop and the first things that pop up are a plethora of messages from your parents telling you to come home right this instant. Calling you dramatic for ‘faking an emergency’ and that weren't going to call anyone to help or come get you. Telling you they'd kick you to the streets if you continued to act like this. They seemed really pissed off by something. But there were too many messages to go through. It was like reading a soap opera script. Your siblings on the other hand seemed really concerned asking for you to come home quickly, telling you that they were ransacking your room and throwing things onto the street in anger. It seemed a little too convenient of a story to Price.
“This could all just be a ploy”, Ghost suggested. A made-up story to get their pity so you could get closer to them. Ghost and Price didn't want to give you the benefit of the doubt, even though Gaz and Soap were more than willing to believe your story. Probably too enticed by your scent already. They've been in these situations far too many times for it to be considered a coincidence. Especially when a pretty thing wanders somewhere she definitely shouldn't be, spreading very enticing pheromones to a pack of wolves.
They continue their search for something incriminating. Anything to give away you were working for someone. But everything they found felt very mundane down to the nitty gritty details of your life. It almost seemed too normal as if your life was scripted. You must be hiding something even if it wasn't related to them. Everyone had at least one skeleton in their closet. But you didn't or maybe you were just better at hiding it. The pictures on your phone are mostly tame, the main subject being nature and quite a few candid shots of what they assumed were your friends. And obviously you had plenty of pictures of food, but not many of yourself to their disappointment. Gaz seemed particularly disappointed, the younger two men seemed to be taken by you. Even though they've only spent an hour at most talking to you. Your Instagram wasn't much different but your online portfolio had quite a few creative pictures with models. They were often made to look antique or aged and followed a very classic aesthetic. Soap thought it was a shame they couldn't get to see your pretty face.
You could have just stolen these pictures from someone else but they couldn't confirm that either. At this point they thought they saw enough to get to know you. Gaz seemed to want to come to your defense but held his tongue, he knew how dangerous situations like these could get. But to him you seemed like any typical college graduate trying to make a name for herself. Young, ambitious and full of creativity. But you were also naïve and a bit ditsy if what you told them was true. And he so desperately wanted it to be true, the idea of keeping you around was growing on him. One would think if you enter a forest alone the least you could do was pay attention to your surroundings regardless if you were distracted taking pictures or not. It seemed you lacked common sense. Especially when thinking asking four strange men for help was a good idea. Though in your defense it's not like you had many options at that point. It was either this or freeze to death.
It's ok if you were a bit slow or naive Gaz thought, he'll protect you and teach you everything you'd need to know. Once you were cleared of suspicion, that is, Soap and him could definitely work to convince the other two men to agree to keep you. It didn't seem like your parents treated you well, he's sure you'd be happier with them anyways so I wasn't like they were doing something that wrong. In fact they were probably doing you a favour by taking you away from your abusive parents.
Soap was still off to the side somewhere hyper focused on looking at your pictures for some reason. When your camera finally died, Soap let out a flurry of curses.
“Find something useful?”, Price inquiried. Worried you were indeed taking pictures of them to sell or send to whoever you were working for. Soap just mumbles something in frustration before saying no.
Intrigued, Ghost takes the camera from Soap with some trouble. He slots the SD card into the laptop to see what he was moaning about. It's safe to say none of them except maybe for Soap, were expecting those kind of pictures to pop up. You were still dressed, just barley that is. The men took an audible gulp of air, their Adams apple bobbing in their throats. When Ghost clicked on the first exposed picture of you they all felt their mouth becoming entirely too wet and too dry at the same time. They were practically drooling at the sight of your naked flesh.
Ghost was kinda annoyed Soap was trying to keep this to himself. Greedy little bastard. He would have probably jerked off to the pictures after everyone had gone to bed. Only telling them about it when he got his fill.
It was a photograph of you sitting near some wild flowers. In the photo you were wearing a long white dress so the picture wasn't taken today but they wished it was. They wished you came to them looking like you did in that photo. Your dress was pushed up very close to exposing your panties, your legs were strategically parted but not enough to expose yourself. It left them wanting for more and had their fingers itching to touch your warm supple skin. It was ironic how sweet and innocent you came across when speaking to them yet you took pictures like this of yourself? It had Soap blood rushing to his cock and also his head, it angered him that there was a possibility you were taking these pictures for some girl or dude. A possessive feeling entered his heart, he was annoyed thinking someone apart from them could have possibly seen these pictures of you. The other men probably thinking something similar, even if they wouldn't admit it just yet.
Ghost glanced at Soap adjusting his slacks before going back to click onto the next picture. The silence in the room quickly faded when the next picture loaded up. Gaz and Soap let out audible groans at the image. Their cocks were definitely straining in their trousers.
The picture showed you laying down this time still on the grass, your wet hair arranged prettily. But it looked like it was raining. Your face was wet, your lipstick smudged and the white top completely soaked through exposing your erect nipples. You had a demure expression on your face despite the very erotic pictures you were taking of yourself. The more images they clicked the more erotic they became. Though you were at no point completely naked or fully exposed. But by God you knew what you were doing with that camera. You knew your best angles, the natural lighting was perfect, your clothes were arranged just how you intended. They'd mistake you for a pinup model if they had found these pictures accidentally on some website.
The best picture so far pops up and by this point everyone including Price and Ghost are acutely fixated on your devine body, your soft curves and dips. They all probably felt their cocks hardening. Everything about you just seemed so perfect, like you were made for them. It was safe to say even if they found you were actually a spy they'd find a way to keep you next to them. A body so divine would do no good buried six feet under. They had no idea you were hiding such a figure under your baggy clothes they found you in.
The picture in question was of you laying propped up on your side. The top on your dress was pulled down to your waist exposing your chest, torso and stomach completely. The dress was soaked, becoming transparent and your white stockings were on display. You were looking at the camera innocently like you weren't just sitting prettily half naked in the middle of a forest by yourself. Gaz really hoped it was you taking these pictures not someone else. They really ought to teach what could happen to pretty half exposed girls who wander into the forest to take such naughty pictures. Ghost goes to click on the next picture but it just circles back to the most recent picture of a white bunny you took. Everyone was clearly disappointed but only Soap and Gaz voiced their dissatisfaction. Soap tries to take the laptop to return to his favourite picture of you but Ghost slams the screen shut.
“Oye! What was that for!?”, Soap practically seethes, Gaz not far behind voicing his anger.
“She's not some wank material for you Johnny.. Go to bed, we have a long day tomorrow, both of you…”
“I agree, go to bed. You both need to cool down and think with a level head. This girl can be a danger to all of us…”, Price's stern voice rings out, squashing out any room for complaint. The two men grumble and head off to Soap room. “Don't sneak into her room either!”. They let out some pathetic ‘yes sirs’ before closing the door to their room. Price knew for a fact they were going to get each off to the thoughts of your body. He'd hope they wouldn't get too attached to you just yet… there was a lot at stake. He didn't want any of his boys getting hurt because they were thinking with their dicks..
Price tells Simon to put everything back so you don't suspect them tampering with your stuff. They needed to keep up the air that they were oblivious about you. Price rubs his eyes. The fatigue clearly evident in his face. This was supposed to be a relaxing trip…He needed some sleep. The anxiety was eating away at him. He'd be expecting a call from Kate the next morning for an update. It's best to get as much rest as possible..
Rest would have been good for Simon too yet he found himself making backup of all your pictures once everyone left. Price had told him to return everything back but he couldn't bring himself to allow anyone else to see these pictures of you. As much as he was trying to hide it. He found himself becoming infatuated. By your scent, by your demeanor, by your beautiful breasts. His mouth was just itching to latch on your supple skin. Which was extremely concerning, he shouldn't feel like this. Yet he found his hand discreetly finding his way into his boxers as he made copies of the pictures while deleting them off the SD card. It wasn't like you'd notice, your camera had died. Though he did feel cruel for denying his boys pleasure while he was indulging in it himself. He'll make it up to them later once everything is settled and they decide what they should do with you.
-27/11/2023 present time
You found yourself on a familiar sofa again, only this time it was Gaz who was taking care of your wounds. The cuts sting as you try to escape the grasp Soap has on you as he holds you down on his lap.
“Please I'm not a spy…*sob*.. I just want to go home..”
“Settle down hen…nae need tae work yerself up.. we just want tae take care of ye”, you could still hear the residual anger in his voice. He probably got an earful by everyone for allowing you to escape on his watch. But you didn't care, you just wanted to go home. Anywhere was better than being stuck with four strange men. Four very dangerous men who shouldn't technically exist. Your mind was still trying to process what you had witnessed. Maybe it was all a hallucination. There no way men can turn to wolves right? Right? You'd promise never to mention it to a living soul if it meant they would let you go but you doubted they'd take the risk. You had no way to contact the outside world, had no way of escaping four military men with connections. Four protected military men who could technically get away with anything if they can get away with war crimes.
“Ye need tae stop squirming so much hen… or we'll have another problem on our hands”, Soap whispers in your ear. You stop your movements immediately at his words. You try to get off his lap but he just holds you down harder. His stiff cock brushing against you too bagging sweatpants and you felt everything since they had taken your underwear to ‘clean’ while they were nursing you back to health. You hated to admit it but his body heat was pleasant compared to the cold you were just in. But that didn't mean you wanted his hard cock pressed up against your vulnerable unclothed pussy.
Gaz and Soap continue to try to soothe you, but it's of little help because you begin panicking the second you see Price and Ghost getting the truck loaded with their belongings. They were leaving the area and taking you with them.
You feel Gaz brush your hair out of your face as he shushes you with gentle words. You were a fool to think he was ever going to take you home. You partially blamed him for your fall into the lake. Had he not suggested you climb the nearby boulders to get better reception on his phone; you wouldn't have slipped in leaving you mentally delirious for the last couple days due to your aggravated fever. You don't remember much from the last few days apart from a lot of vomiting and the men taking care of all your needs whether you wanted them to or not. Not to mention them dressing and undressing you like a doll whenever they felt like it. Or maybe it was because you kept vomiting but you wanted to blame it on them..
The fight in you dies down as you just resort to crying your feelings out. The boys continue to soothe you but they were probably just making things worse. You were extremely overwhelmed by everything you were witnessing; it was all becoming too much. You just wanted to turn your brain off for a second. You watch Price and Ghost stop in front of you. They had hard expressions on their faces. Dread filled you as you realised what they were going to do..
“Do you want your punishment now or when we arrive back home?”, Price inquiries. But you know he doesn't mean your home he meant their home. You cry even louder not knowing what to do to convince them to let you go. Pleases and sorrys leave your mouth as you beg them for mercy, beg them to see what they were doing was wrong. Trying your best to convince them you weren't a spy. But they wouldn't listen. It's like they had already made up their minds to keep you regardless of whether you were a spy or not.
Price maneuvers you off Soap lap and over his knee as everyone watches with held breaths. You struggle, you really do. With all the energy you have left you fight the punishment you're about to receive. You feel Price's hand rub over your ass giving it an experimental squeeze despite your crying and squirming. It only seemed like a mild inconvenience to him. You feel his hand brush up to the hem of the sweat pants you were wearing which causes you to kick your legs more. It's only then you hear Ghost speak.
“Price maybe we should let her decide her punishment” Price gives Ghost an odd look but decides to hear him out. You quiet down and listen too, hoping for an out from this humiliating situation.
“Let's give her two options to choose from, since it's her first time and hopefully her last time trying to escape”, you look at him like he was your saving grace. That would later be a great mistake on your part since you hadn't heard his options yet.
“What would you suggest?”, Price inquires as he continues to rub your thighs and ass as you held your breath hoping to get out of this punishment. Gaz and Soap look on eagerly knowing either suggestion would have you partially exposed to them. Not like they haven't been oogling your body already, especially while helping you clean up over the last few days. You don't know that though you were too delirious with fever.
“She can decide if she wants slaps to her bare cunt or bare breasts”, your face drops at his suggestion. You were really hoping for something else, like writing lines or doing extra chores like the way your parents preferred punishing you. You start crying again at your predicament. Why was life like this? Why did it have to be you? You were a good person, well at least you tried to be.. Was this your punishment for defying your parents' will? Was God punishing you for being an unfilial daughter? Was it because you wanted to feel sexy in those pictures? Had that evoked the wrath of God?
“Make a decision luv or I'll make it for you…”, You hiccup through sobs trying to ask for forgiveness instead. You didn't want to be exposed to strangers. This wasn't how you expected your first time to be. You had your doubts they'd stop at a simple spanking. When Price goes to pull your pants down you speak up, finally realising you weren't going to be shown mercy.
“M-my…my.. breasts”, you cry. It was the lesser evil. May God forgive you for exposing yourself to these strangers. You're gently made to sit upright as Price forces you to lift Soaps shirt, baring your supple breasts to them. Your squeeze your eyes shut as you clench your hands into fists waiting for the pain to begin. But it doesn't come. You wait and wait but nothing happens. You don't hear them speak or move, which just caused more anxiety. You eventually can't take the suspense and open your eyes to find them all staring, eyes full of lust and desire, hands twitching at their sides. It was as if they were transfixed, unable to break the hold your naked body had on them. It unnerved you, you didn't know what they were waiting for…
“Price…”, you whimper out his name so you can get this punishment done and over with. An inhuman groan leaves his lips at you calling his name so sweetly. Immediately his eyes shoot to yours before they dip down again. He clears his throat as his expression changes back to his previous one of anger, but not really. You close your eyes again waiting for him to do something, your body trembling from the fear and anticipation.
“Five slaps to each breast ok darling?”, You nod your head, your hands clutching onto the shirt tighter. You brace yourself while holding your breath again, waiting for the pain to come. He lays his rough calloused hands over your hard nipples causing your breath to hitch at his gentle touch. You try to squirm away but the first tentative slap lands on your left breast, forcing you to gasp despite it not hurting. The next one that lands is much harder, delivered in quick succession like the rest. Your skin felt hot and raw after each thunderous slap. Tears slip past your waterline as the last blow is delivered to your left breast. The skin he was brushing against felt incredibly sensitive. He pinched your nipples again and they felt harder than before, if that was possible.
You felt the rumble of Price's inhuman growl as his large hands cup your sore breast. He keeps it there, feeling the weight of your bosom in his hand as he experimentally rolls your nipples between his fingers. The dangerous throat sounds you were hearing just froze you in place that you didn't even think to move away even though you wanted to. It wasn't just Price, you could practically feel the other men burning holes into your skin despite having your eyes closed.
Eventually you feel him move to your right. He was being much crueler with his slaps this time around. Every time his hand clapped against your flesh you flinched from the stinging pain. Gasps and whimpers left your mouth more readily this time around as well. The pain was spreading all over your sensitive flesh yet you could do little to prevent it. It felt inflamed and hot and all you wanted to do was hide in a corner somewhere far away. Never in your life have you felt this kind humiliation. The worst part was your nether region felt hot and sticky making sitting extremely uncomfortable. You squirm as you rub your thighs together. Trying your best to alleviate the ache. Hopefully no one noticed.
By the end of punishment you were crying again. The tears didn't seem to want to end this time around. Eventually you felt your top being pushed down to cover your tender sore breasts as Price brought you in for a hug despite you trying to escape.
“You took your punishment so well bunny, such a good girl. I'm so proud of you. Our perfect girl.”, Price coos at you while you still try to escape his hold. But he just tightens his arms around you, plastering your head to his chest as you cry it out. Soap and Gaz chime in too as they caress your head and back showering you with praise for taking the punishment so well.
“Being such a good girl for us, we're so proud of you bunny. You deserve a reward. Let me go get you some water. We'll get you some ointment when we get home luv just sit there and rest for now.”, Gaz leaves the room to get some water at you continue crying.
“Let me give ye a reward hen.. Ah’ll make the pain go o’way. You've been rubbing yer thighs since the punishment started”, You feel Soaps hands move to your thighs. Trying to pry them open for your ‘reward’. But you adamantly refuse while fighting to keep your legs closed, not that it was doing much to deter him.
“No..no…please…no more”, you plead through sobs. Before you can cry louder you feel him being pulled back roughly. You open your eyes to find Ghost holding Soap by the hair as he whines kneeling on the ground.
“That's enough Johnny..Not today”, You watch him help Soap up as he grumbles something about it being unfair that only Price got to touch you. But he eventually relents and goes to follow him outside.
Gaz returns with a glass of water from the kitchen and brings it to your lips. You hadn't realised all that running and crying had left you extremely parched. You gulp down the water not thinking much of it when he gently tips the glass for you. Price has to slow you down your movements telling you you'll choke yourself like that. He takes the glass from Gaz to help you slowly finish it. It's only when you're done that the same chalky taste of medicine you've been tasting for the last couple days makes itself known. They've drugged you again.
You cry and plead for mercy in your last couple minutes of consciousness but all they do is coo at you until you pass out. The last thing you see in your hazy vision is Gaz kissing your forehead while Price gathers you in his lap to carry you to the truck.
Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.
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hellvcifer · 3 days
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Hi! I was wondering if you could write a Hazbin Hotel x sad reader. Where the reader is just lying in their bed and hasn’t came out their room. And the Hazbin characters tries to give them comfort. If your not comfortable writing this then that’s totally fine 💗
RECLUSE— ଘ fic
pairing :: hazbin hotel residents x gn!reader wc :: 2.7k note :: hi there! i hope this is what you were looking for and brings you some comfort if you're feeling down. i wasn't sure which characters you were looking for specifically so i did a little of each for the main hotel crew. warnings :: reader is sad, isolation and pushing people away
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“Good morning!” Charlie shouted, hands thrown in the air, a giant grin plastered on her face. “I have the per~fect morning planned for us. First, we’ll do our daily affirmations in our friendship circle, then we’ll try the trust fall exercises–this time without the egg boys–” her face wilted at the memory. Poor Tucker. “And then!” She immediately went back to her peppy-self, “I thought we could bake cookies!” She glanced at everyone who sat in the lounge area.
“Uh, we’re missing one.” Angel spoke, his body splayed across one of the couches as he casually scrolled through his phone. 
“Y/N hassn’t come down yet.” Sir Pentious added, a few of the egg boys walking around him, seemingly playing a game.
“Oh!” Charlie looked confused for a moment, “Well, uh, that’s okay!” She walked over next to her girlfriend and sat down on the open seat of one of the couches. “We can wait.”
“I’m sure they’ll be down shortly.” Vaggie placed a hand on Charlie’s bouncy thigh to help ease her pent up excitement for the activities she had planned. All was fine until a few more minutes passed. Then those few minutes turned into thirty. Then thirty turned into an hour. Charlie and Vaggie shared a look. 
“I’ll uh,” The princess stood, “I’ll just go check on them! To make sure everything is okay.” She nervously smiled before making her way to the stairs, Vaggie followed closely behind to accompany her. 
“I’m sure everything’s perfectly fine.” She did her best to calm the blonde.
“You’re right!” Charlie smiled. “They probably just slept in a little. Nothing to worry about!” Once they reached your door, Charlie cleared her throat, adjusting her posture before knocking. A few raps of her knuckles on the dull door and nothing was heard in response. “Uh, Hello~! Wakey-wakey, Y/N!” A couple more knocks. “Are you in there?” Her question was hopeful though she couldn’t help the slip of concern. You had always been on time, happily participating in her exercises, and helping around the hotel. It was increasingly odd to not see you around. “Maybe they’re not at the hotel?” She turned to Vaggie.
The girl shook her head. “No one saw them leave.” The answer only caused Charlie to huff in a pout. 
“Okay then.” She stood straight, eyes glimmering with determination. “If they won’t come out, then we’ll just go in!” She reached for the knob and grasped tightly.
“Wait, Charli–” The door was locked. She wiggled it a few more times, thinking maybe it was just stuck. The jostling grew more and more louder as she continued to try to open it. “Charlie, okay wait, stop.” 
“Go away!” A muffled voice called from behind the door causing them both to pause. Your muffled voice. 
“Y/N?” The blonde called out. “Uh, are you okay?”
“Please, just…” Your tone quieted. “Just leave.”
“Okay but I rea~lly think you should open the door! And we can talk! Or…” She nervously looked around, trying to come up with something. “Or~! you could join everyone downstairs! And we can, uh… We can…” She trailed off, eyes flitting to Vaggie.
“Maybe we should just give some space.” She suggested and Charlie sighed in response. Her head drooped. 
“Yeah, okay.” They walked off, with more questions than answers, and worried expressions. 
“I’m sure after today, things will be back to normal. Okay?” Vaggie side hugged Charlie. 
Inside your room you laid in your bed. Everything felt heavy, swallowed up in darkness. You let the blankets cocoon you in their warmth as you lie there, unmoving. Unmotivated. Drowning in the gray clouds of your mind. Surely, a few days like this and you’d be out of your funk. 
Nothing really put you there to begin with but you felt yourself becoming low-spirited over the past week. That morning, you knew it was impossible to get out of bed. You sunk further and further into the springed mattress, the lumps now cradling you and your sorrows. You heaved out a deep breath. Just a few days. And maybe, this dark storm will have passed. 
“It’s been four days!” Charlie worriedly paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. “And after all we’ve been through together I think it’s time we step in!”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Sweetie.” Vaggie stood up, walking closer and placing a comforting hand on her girlfriend's shoulder. “When you ask to be left alone, sometimes you just gotta leave them alone.”
“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m with toots over there.” Angel gestured to Charlie, walking over with a drink in his hand. “I get wanting to shut out for a few days but not this long.” He leaned on the back of the couch.
“Perhapss they’re in need of ssome assistance?” Pentious’ tongue peaked out to end his words. 
“Good idea, boss!” One of his egg boys shouted from the ground.
Charlie’s face lit up, eyes widening upon hearing his words. “It’s a GREAT idea!” She turned towards everyone, hands held out in excitement. 
“No, Charlie!” Vaggie grabbed both her hands. “We already tried that and got told to leave.”
“Yeah, but that was you two.” Husk added, “And we know how you like to handle things.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
He rolled his eyes, “It means you don’t know how to read the situation.”
Vaggie was glaring at him fiercely when Angel straightened his back, “You know what, Kitty’s right.” He got closer. “Why don’t we try our hands at talking. Figure something from us might make ‘em feel better.”
“But the door’s locked.”
“Eh,” Angel waved his two right hands. “We’ll get 'em to open it.” He began walking to the stairs, Husk close behind him.
“And how exactly are we supposed to do that?” Husk asked.
“Oh, I got an idea.” He flashed a look before leading the bartender to his room. He made a short pit stop to pick up fat nuggets and then they made it to your room. A few knocks on your door and they were only answered with silence. 
“Hey Y/N~!” Angel called out. “You know, it’s been so lonely without you around and I have someone here that’s been dying to see you!” As if on queue, nuggets made two cute squeals of delight. 
“Really?” Husk narrowed his eyes at Angel. “You’re bribing them with the pig?”
Angel snapped to look at him. “Hey! Everyone loves this pig!” He sharply spoke in a low tone.
“Leave me alone!” They both snapped to stare at your door. 
“We brought booze?” Angel tried again, suggesting Husk’s bottle of whiskey. Which may not have been the best idea considering the slow turn the cat gave him. Entirely offended with his mouth open.
“I don’t want your stupid cheap alcohol!” Why… You rolled your eyes, turning away from the door, Why! “Or your pig!” Why are you saying these things? “Just go! Away!” Your chest was filled with an abnormal pressure as you threw the blanket over your head, water brimming your eyes. You muffled the sobs into your pillow.  Why are you feeling like this?
Angel and Husk left defeatedly, entering the lobby similar to how Vaggie and Charlie did the first time. Husk went behind the bar, not wanting to talk and Angel laid down on the red couch. 
“Well?” Charlie almost knew the answer already but hoped for something better. 
“Got nothing.” Angel moped. “Bribed ‘em with Nuggets and booze.” He turned to look at the group. “Nothing’ll work if we can’t get passed the door.” 
“Then we must bring the show inside!” The radioed voice was cascading throughout the room as he appeared in the lounge area. Taking a seat in one of the chairs, he crossed his legs. “Sometimes a little jazz is all you need to reignite the light.” 
“Oh no! No, no, no!” Vaggie was quick to stand in, “We can’t just invade their privacy!” She turned to the group. “I care for Y/N as much as all of you, but sometimes you need to respect them wanting space.”
“But aren’t you two the oness telling uss to be there for our friendss?” Pentious asked. “How can we comfort them by giving them sspace?”
“It’s called boundaries.” Her hands assisted the assertion of her words.
“Uh, Yeah, boundaries.” Angel mocked, “Smiles is gone by the way.” He pointed to the now empty seat as everyone snapped their heads to it. Vaggie slapped her hands to her face, letting out a frustrated groan. 
Charlie nervously laughed before clasping her hands together. “Oh no.”
Alastor rose from murky obsidian shadows, revealing his everlasting sinister grin. His eyes slid over to the bed, brow raised once he saw a cluster of blankets. He spun his mic, walking over and waving his hand. The unused fireplace was suddenly lit and crackling, causing you to jolt. 
“The fuck–?”
“Why Hello!” The sudden radioed cadence was all you needed to hear. You rolled your eyes. “Closing away like this is no way to present yourself!” He leaned forward. You noticed the soft soothing trill of jazz in the background, no doubt brought on by the man beyond your blanket barrier. “Where’s the joy in being locked away in this room?”
“Will you just–” You hastily uncovered yourself and sat up. “Get out!” The glow of the flames flickered against your skin as you sought out the intruder. 
“Don’t you look swell!” His incessant grin was accompanied with an overt blink. You groaned, forcefully lying back down in a huff against your pillow. Glared glued to the ceiling.
“Why can’t anyone understand that I want to be left alone!” 
Alastor walked over to the fire, a chair and an end table appeared with a cup of coffee. He took a seat and grabbed his cup. “Why be alone when there’s so much to do outside!” 
You released a heavy sigh. “What’s the point…” Your voice came out in a strained whisper. Throat knotting as you struggled to swallow away your swollen tongue. 
Al took a sip from his mug, “My my, what a depressing thing you are! I’m nearly getting flashbacks.” 
“Alastor…” You felt your eyebrow twitch, “With every single drop of the draining patience I have left. Get. The fuck. Out.” 
Your words had zero effect on him, “But I’m here to help, my friend!”
“Oh please.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re saying you’re here because you care?”
He laughed, “Oh dear, no!” He set his drink down and stood up, “Being a witness to you drowning in your sorrows is quite entertaining.”
You turned your head to look at him, “Then why are you here?”
“I’m merely a parrot to our constituents! The worry over your newfound reclusion has become the talk of the town! I wanted to see it for myself.” He walked closer. “But by all means, continue your isolation! Watching the others scurry about with concern and become defeated time after time again is delightful! It’s not as if it’s hurting anyone…” His eyes slid towards you, his smile filtering to that of a smirk. “Including yourself.” He melded into the floor, the fire and music extinguishing with his exit. 
Now alone in the thickened darkness, the silence of your own thoughts gnawing into the corners of your mind. Hurting. Were you really hurting them? That wasn’t anything close to what you wanted. Staying in your room. Locked away. That was supposed to be the solution until you felt better. Somewhat better. Just… Different than how you were feeling now. 
But the days don’t feel different at all. If anything, the mucky feeling only cemented itself further within your chest. You felt it begin to sink, the thought of everyone trying to break through to you brought that welling feeling back. And you just yelled at them. You yelled at the only people trying to show you kindness.
The tears pooled over the edge, racing down your face. Everything released from within, the melancholic storm brewed over the past few days erupted. Your thunderous cries echoed throughout the dark room. 
After a few more whales you finally simmered down to a low whine, taking deep breaths to relieve yourself. It wasn’t a cure-all but you were finally able to gain some bearings. You grabbed your blanket and stood up, wrapping it around your figure. That damn radio head may have had a point after all. You released another long-winded breath and began making your way to your door.
The hallway walls were a sight for sore eyes, you pupils dilating as soon as you stepped out of your room. The heavy feeling in your lungs felt like it was building once again as you journeyed to the lobby. What would you say to them? Would they even want to talk to you? You stopped walking. What if they’re mad at you? You closed your eyes, shaking your head before continuing. You committed to this. No backing out now.
You finally made it to the top of the stairs that descended into the lobby. The blanket around your body felt like it was nearly constricting you with how tight you had it pulled. You sniffled quietly, eyes scanning the area and finally seeing them crowded around the old TV for movie night. 
Shuffling closer, you found that watching your feet take each small step closer made you less scared to address them. As soon as Vaggie caught sight of you, she paused the movie, elbowing Charlie and nodding towards you. Everyone soon followed her line of sight.
The silence signaled it was finally time to say something. An overwhelming heat pulsed throughout your body, ending within your cheeks.
“I…” the tears began bubbling the rim of your eyes. “I don’t know why I said those things. I don’t k-know why I’m feeling like this. I just feel… I feel sad, and I don’t know why!” Everything broke once again, large drops cascading down your cheeks endlessly as you began to cry. You used your blanket to wipe away the trails.
Charlie and Angel stood up immediately, coming to your side and embracing you. “It’s okay, Y/N.” The blonde softly consoled. “You don’t have to be happy all the time! And you never need a reason to be sad.”
“Sometimes, we just feel sad. And that’s okay.” Angel spoke, his voice mellow and comforting.  “Just share the sadness with us so you’re not alone, okay?”
“Yeah, and we’re always going to be here for you.” Vaggie stood and took a few steps closer.
“Come now,” Alastor gestured with his hand. “Join us while we continue watching this terrible picture show!”
“Yess! Come, come.” Pentious patted the middle seat of the couch as everyone awaited your answer. 
A surge of warmth blossomed throughout your body as you stared at them. Ever so gently, your lips pulled upward as you slowly nodded. They returned it before directing you to sit. Angel sat on the other side of you while Charlie returned to sit down with Vaggie and Niffty.
Pentious bent down to the ground and scooped up three of his egg boys and held them close. He leaned over to you, holding one out as an offer. Simon, the egg boy, opened his arms up towards you, awaiting to be held. You gently cradled him against you and smiled.
“This feels much better.” Charlie hummed, cuddled up with Vaggie. Your head fell onto Angel’s shoulder as you released a sigh. Even though you aren’t feeling a hundred percent all the time, at least you're surrounded by those who care about you. 
A beamy eye popped into your line of sight. “I made you this.” Niffty shot out her hand, a dead roach was disassembled and strung into a necklace. You flashed a strained smile. It really was the thought that counted.
“Thanks, Nifft.” She flitted back to her spot with a happy giggle and hearing it made you sigh in content. You glanced around the room, seeing everyone watching the movie.
Yeah, this really was much better.
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likes and reblogs appreciated !! ♡
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intoanotherworld23 · 3 months
Text
Forbidden Fruit
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Summary: Working for the Millers as their children’s babysitter has been the best job you’ve had, but the only problem is your massive crush on Joel.
Pairing: Reader x Joel Miller
Word Count: 2.3k+ words
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Warnings: nothing major just some kissing, making out, sexual tension, cheating, infidelity, thoughts of sex, mention of female masturbation, age gap
A/N: Let me know what you guys think so far comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. If you wish to be tagged for this please let me know and I’ll be sure to add you! Thanks so much everyone! XOXO
Hall Of Hunks
〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️
It was wrong. All of it. Every single second. Every single thought. Always bowing your head in shame every time you so much as even pictured him shirtless.
Feeling your eyes tearing up in embarrassment as you felt more pathetic each time you touched yourself to the thought of him touching you or kissing you. Your feelings were never meant to become this strong. It was only a crush.
Obsessing over him more every time you looked at him. Suddenly feeling shy as soon as he entered into the room. Every smile or kind word thrown your way you were head over heels. Silently praying to yourself that maybe those words would turn into something more one day.
Wondering to their bedroom laying on his side so you could smell his scent on the pillow. Inhaling his musky and sandalwood cologne that lingered in the fabrics. Picturing what it would be like to wake up beside him every morning. Imaging him kissing all over your face and pulling your body closer to his.
He was married for crying out loud, and you babysat his kids. Plus he was older than you and was all together out of your league. It was just a temporary crush, and one day you'd forget about him and never seen this man ever again in your life. Chances are he doesn't even give you second glances each time you show up, and early might you add.
His wife surely was suspicious by now or could at least tell how just in love with this man you were. She was gorgeous and probably had men falling to their knees over her. She had to know all about what it was like to crush hard over someone, and could see the obvious signs.
If she did know she hasn't said anything or even hinted that she knew. Instead she gave you warm smiles and plain compliments.
Their kids loved you or couldn't wait for the days you would come over. Constantly bugging them to have you over just so they could play with you. In fact his wife felt at times envious over her own kids adoring you. You knew what she was thinking, but never once did she ever show it on her face. She hid it behind a polite smile.
You paid more attention to her kids than she ever did. In fact one night they confessed they wished you were their mom instead of her. At first it warmed your heart at the thought of being the mother of his kids.
Then just as quickly you pushed that thought down, and told them never to say that ever again. In fear of what the mother would say.
Scrolling through your phone as the seconds ticked by. Having already put the kids to bed now you just waited for the happy couple to show up so you could leave and head back to your pathetic excuse of an apartment.
Hearing the roar of an engine outside the house indicating they were back, and a little early too. Usually they were out well past midnight, and it wasn't even ten yet. This was really odd, and you scrunched your face in confusion. Gathering your things slowly as you possibly could not ready to leave yet.
Standing up only to hear the door open aggressively, and a red faced Joel walk through the door. Judging by the silence and rigid body language something happened tonight.
He loosened his day like he had a long day at the office. His wife not far behind him as he pushed past him neither one of them looking at you or each other.
Watching as she practically sprinted upstairs with her makeup smeared down her cheeks, and heading towards the kids room. Something clearly happened and you didn't want to press especially since it really wasn't your business.
"Hi you guys are home early."
"My whore of a wife is taking the kids to her parents house for a couple nights."
That certainly wasn't the sort of response you expected from him as you stood there in place unsure of what to say. His words being said loud enough in the hopes she heard. Watching as he slammed the door shut grumbling to the kitchen pouring himself a glass of scotch downing it in one shot.
As much as you wanted to run over to him and comfort him it wasn't your place. Rocking back and forth on your heels feeling awkward at what you should say or do at this point.
Hearing shuffling upstairs as drawers were being opened and closed. The kids were crying out breaking your heart at the sound.
"Mr. Miller? Is everything all right?"
Before he could respond his wife descended down the stairs with a couple bags and her kids trucking behind her.
"Say good night to your daddy kids."
Watching as they ran right into his arms hugging them tightly like it was the last time he might ever see them.
Unable to hear what he was saying to them as he kissed them on the cheeks, and patted their heads in comfort hating to seek them like this. He wanted them to stay with him instead, but right now he really wanted to be alone, and he didn't want to accidentally take his anger out on them.
"I love you both so much."
Was the last thing he could say to them before she grabbed them and shoved them out the door. You hadn't moved from your spot the whole time. You don't even think you blinked once since they first came through the door.
This is the last thing you expected to happen when they came home. In fact this was probably the last time you'd have to babysit for them. Which means you'd probably never see Joel again.
It was selfish of you to think like that especially since something very serious happened between the couple.
"I'm sorry." He whispered as he turned to face you this time.
"It's okay Mr. Miller."
"No it's not okay. None of this is okay." His fingers combing back his hair all in distress.
"Mr. Miller this is really none of my business."
"Please stay for just a few minutes."
"Okay." Hesitating on your answer unsure if you should involve yourself in what clearly was a personal matter.
"The whole night was going so perfectly. We were having a good time and things couldn't have been going better."
Walking over to you then shuffling his feet to the couch throwing himself down his shoulders shrugged down. A look of disbelief across his face, and he tried to find the right words to say or explain what happened.
"Then she told me that she was having an affair with a man she worked with. That she was happier with him than she was with me."
You could tell he was heart broken over the whole thing. Feeling like his whole world was crashing down around him. All he wanted to do was just cry, and drink until he was numb. Just wanting to feel something other than heartbreak and pain.
Staring deep into your eyes not realizing how beautiful you actually were. Baffled that he never took notice of you before.
How soft your skin looked, and how luscious your lips were shaped. Everything about you looked perfect, and suddenly his spirits were feeling lighter.
Watching his eyes drifting from your lips to between your eyes. Something was happening between you two, but you didn't exactly know what was going on.
It was like Joel was contemplating what he wanted to do. Trying to decided if you'd indulge him or smack him across the face, and never speak to him again.
"Mr. Miller?"
"Call me Joel." He whispered as he started to lean forward.
"Please don't hit me for doing this."
Wasting no time in pressing his lips against yours. Once he felt you start to relax he moved his lips against yours. Turning his head to the side as a hand came up and caressed the side of your face.
Feeling your lips tingle as you cocked your head towards the opposite side. Your entire body felt like it was floating in the air. From Joel's lips pressed against to his hands touching your face. Both of you knew it was wrong, but neither one of you cared.
Either one of you cared about was each other. It had been too long since you or him felt like this. Something that both of you missed, and needed in your life.
It was like a heat wave rushed across your body, and you could feel this immense pressure between your legs. No doubt there would be a wet spot there. Joel would discover it soon enough.
His body pushing you back so your head was resting on the arm rest, and you moved both of your legs onto the couch. Joel hovering above you as he kept his lips on yours.
Making out with him on the couch his hands moved down to your hips. Grinding his body down on top of yours feeling his erection poking between your legs. His pants were incredibly tight, and he wanted to get out of his clothes soon as possible.
"Is this okay?" Hands gripping the top of your pants ready to pull them down.
"Absolutely."
Smirking as he quickly pulled them down your legs dropping them to the floor. Licking his lips when he took notice of the lace panties you were wearing.
"You sure you want this?" Nodding your head eagerly as you grabbed his face and gave him a hard kiss.
"Please I want this."
"God you drive me crazy baby."
Hands reaching up so Joel could lift your shirt over your head. Laying there in nothing but your matching bra and panties. You were like a gift wrapped in a bow under his gaze. He couldn't wait to open you up.
Your hands covering yourself up feeling self conscious under his hungry gaze. It was like you were under a bright light being watched. Joel shaking his head at what you were doing.
"Don't cover yourself up sweetheart." Moving your hands out of the way. "You're so gorgeous."
His hands were warm against your skin. His touch was like a magnetic pull, and you couldn't help but be tugged in. It was a long time coming of frustration and tension. Both of you needed this more than you realized.
Before anything else could happen his phone went off making both of you jump. Leaning his head forward onto your chest with a loud groan. Sighing heavily at what would have happened if the phone didn't go off.
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."
Snarling as he got up and walked over to where his laid his phone down. Leaning up as you watched him answer the phone his tone clearly not happy.
"What?"
There was some muffled voice on the other end of the phone. Rubbing his hand down his face in frustration. This was the last thing that he needed to deal with.
Hearing him start to argue with whoever was on the other end. If only this person knew what they had just interrupted. He might not have answered it, but it could have been an important call.
"Can't you get someone else to come in?"
Joel was a very well known doctor, and was brilliant and good at what he did. People from different parts of the world came to see him. His hours could range at any time even in the middle of the night.
"Jesus christ I'll come in." Ending the call as he set his phone down.
There were tears pricking in the corner of yours eyes. The sexual frustration was almost at an unbearable level. You were like a pot of water that was about to boil over, and any moment you would blow.
"Hospital?"
"Yeah." Bowing his head as he shuffled his feet over to you. "I'm so sorry."
"No it's okay I've gotta get back home anyway."
Feeling incredibly awkward and uncomfortable as you sat there half naked. Joel was ashamed if he would glance at your body again. Trying to find something else to look at. The reality of what you two almost just did hitting him.
"Look," standing in front of you now when you were completely dressed,"what just happened can’t happen again."
"I know."
"Not that I didn't want to cause believe me I want to so bad." Hands softly grabbing your arms as he looked deep into your eyes.
"It's just that-."
"The wife." Interrupting him already knowing what he was going to say.
Maybe he was using her as an excuse to not sleep with you. Not wanting to give into his carnal desires that were clawing at the cage. It was confusing for both of you neither one of you had done this before.
He thought about just jerking himself off until the feeling washed away. Hoping that maybe the lust would go away, and that this wouldn't happen again.
"Am I fired?" Blurting out before you could stop yourself.
"Probably not." Shrugging his shoulders as he responded. "Depends on the wife, well soon to be ex wife."
Which was true cause if you knew any better, she would try to fight for full custody. Since he was working all the time, and wouldn't have that much time with the kids. His kids were his life, and he couldn't lose them.
"Well I'm always available if you need me."
"I know thank you Y/N."
Grabbing your hands in his as he smiled warmly at you. Deep down he was hoping that he didn't make you so he could keep seeing you, and maybe continue what you two were doing. He wanted it so much more than what you realized.
Dropping his hands from yours as you grabbed your things, and took a quick note of the time. It was getting really late, and right now you needed to lay down and clear your head.
"Good night Mr. Miller."
"Joel." Giving you that friendly reminder as you just smiled at him.
"Joel." Repeating his name like liquid honey dripping from your mouth.
"Good night."
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harryyskiwii · 10 months
Text
Summary: You and Harry attend a wedding together and he ends up getting very drunk.
Pairing: Boyfriend!Harry x Reader
Word count: 1,727
A/N: this was inspired by the photos we got today of Harry looking 👌🏼 at his cousins wedding. Hope you enjoy!
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“Do these shoes make my legs look too long? Like scarily long?” You said walking into the bathroom where Harry was standing in front of the mirror after just having had a shower while he was in nothing but a towel and fixing his hair.
His eyes darted from his head to your legs in the corner of the mirror and he smirked “absolutely not. I love your legs” he said coming over and kissing you as you ran your hand through his wet hair.
“I’m just not sure on the dress, what do you think?” You said flattening the front of the sage green silk dress out with your hands.
“You’d look better without it but for today, it’s perfect. You look stunning babe” he says smiling at you. You thanked him and went back through to your bedroom to do the finishing touches to your makeup while Harry got ready.
It was his cousin, Ben Selley’s wedding today and he had managed to get the day off so he could attend. You were looking forward to meeting more of Harry’s extended family; you had only met Anne & her partner and Gemma and her partner Michal since you and Harry had only been dating for 9 months, so you were excited to meet everyone.
10 minutes later, Harry walked into the bedroom and your jaw dropped.
“Stop. Wait. This isn’t right. You’re going to a wedding and you’re NOT wearing cream? Are you feeling okay babe?” You said jokingly putting your hand against his forehead to check his temperature. Harry always had a thing about wearing cream to a wedding, not white as he would make clear, but cream. It was odd to see him not in this colour for once.
He chuckled at your response to his outfit “thought I’d go for something more casual today” he said, showing off his fitted black suit and casual white tank top with his orange tinted glasses with thick black frame to complete the look.
“I certainly approve of it Mr Styles” you said admiring his outfit.
It was a short drive to the church where you saw lots of guests enter the building slowly. Harry’s mum said to meet outside and you could all sit together, and you immediately felt at ease when you seen her walking towards you.
“Don’t the pair of you scrub up well!” She said bringing you in for a kiss on the cheek to greet you.
You chuckled “thanks Anne, you look lovely” you told her, although Anne always looked flawless whether she was wearing a hoodie or a dress, you think that’s where Harry gets it from.
You said hello to Gemma and Michal and entered the church.
You were slightly nervous now at meeting everyone, although excited at the same time to see his cousin getting married.
The 6 of you took a seat in an aisle and immediately Harry got chatting to the people sitting in front.
“This is my girlfriend y/n, y/n these are my other cousins, Ryan and Hayley” he said introducing you to them.
“Hi lovely to meet you” you said and smiled at them. “Nice to meet you, we’ve heard lots about you. H doesn’t stop banging on about you when he’s home” Ryan teased.
“I mean wouldn’t you, look at her. She’s a stunner” Harry said and you blushed. Gemma leaned into you and whispered “you can tell who’s the more sociable one out of me and Harry can’t you” you laughed at her. Harry could have a conversation with a brick wall if he had to.
You chatted with Gemma and Anne a little until it was time for the ceremony. The bride looked absolutely beautiful, her flower girls were adorable and her bridesmaids looked amazing. You couldn’t wait until this was you one day.
“I now pronounce you, husband and wife” the celebrant said to officiate their marriage. You all clapped and Harry leaned in towards you “that’ll be us one day babe” you smiled at the thought and continued to clap for the happy couple.
Walking out of the church and waiting for the bride and groom to get their photos taken, you and Harry mingled with the other guests.
He introduced you to a few more of his family members, all of which made you feel very welcome. Harry was asked if he wouldn’t mind being in some photos for a couple of people who weren’t in the family, friends of the bride and groom more so who didn’t know him, and because he was in his happy place, surrounded by family, he was more than happy to oblige.
“Let me get one of you two!” Anne said as she took your phone out of your hand.
“Harry stand with y/n will you” she shouted to him as he was distracted by talking to someone else. He looked over and joined you at your side, wrapping his arm around your back and his hand falling onto your waist.
“Smile!” Anne said before taking the photo. She captured a few and admired them “you two are just the loveliest couple” she said handing you the phone back. You looked at it and smiled, Harry had a slight smile on his face in the picture but he looked genuinely happy.
“That’s my new lock screen I think” you told him as you walked together towards the reception area.
Luckily at the reception, you were sat at a table with Anne, Darren, Gemma and Michal again, with another 2 of the bride’s extended family. After the meal, Harry insisted on getting shots for the table. Whenever he was at a wedding, it was a tradition he started to always get a shot of tequila after the meal. It served no purpose other than getting him more drunk, more easily. He’d only had 3 pints at this stage but you could tell he was becoming tipsy as he was becoming more and more affectionate, sliding his hand up your thigh with you pushing it away as you’re sure another wedding guest saw him do it.
The bride and groom had their first dance before inviting everyone else up to the dance floor. You and Harry remained sitting at a table, now with some of his aunts and uncles talking about life, when suddenly you both heard the all too familiar main riff of “Man, I feel like a woman” playing to which you and Harry looked at each other.
“We can’t not” he said as he stood up, grabbing your hand to pull you up. “You gotta dance to Shania” he said and at this point in the night, you’d had a few wines and a few shots so you were feeling more than ready for a dance with your boyfriend now.
You chuckled as he led you up to the dance floor, him dad dancing as he made his way up.
“The best thing about being a woman, is the prerogative to have a little fun” you and Harry screamed out over the top of the music as you danced away together, him showing off some rather questionable moves but all in all, you were both having an amazing time.
You danced the whole night after that, with Harry buying everyone another tequila shot, and another and another.
It was 1am when you decided to call it a night, not only because you were done in, but because Harry’s bank account was being rinsed with the £1,200 he’d spent on shots alone that night for the whole wedding.
Luckily, you had booked a room in the hotel where the bride and groom had the reception party so it just meant having to help a very drunk Harry up the 3 flights of stairs. You knew he should have stopped after his 10th pint and 3rd tequila shot but 3 more pints and 4 shots later, Harry’s legs were failing to carry him up the stairs.
You were drunk yourself, giggling quietly as you helped to drag him up the stairs.
“Y/n” Harry would slur as he slowly made his way up the stairs. “Shhh” you would say as you passed the rooms of other guests who were probably sound asleep and didn’t want to be woken up by some 29 year old drunk man.
“Y/n, wwhen can we have a wedding?” He slurred. “Let’s get you in and we can talk about it” you said still trying to get him to the correct room.
“Y/n” he dragged out your name as he giggled “what?” You laughed back, you were almost in as much of a drunken state as he was.
“I love you baby. I love you so much”
“I love you too. But I’d love you even more if you were in the room so move your ass” you said slapping his bum which seemed to sober him up for a brief second and gain some speed as he made his way up the stairs.
After what seemed like forever, you two made it into the hotel room and collapsed on the bed. Harry had taken his suit jacket off at this point and was now lying in just his trousers and tank top with his hands above his head. God did he look good drunk.
You felt the side of your dress being pulled “Take this off” you heard Harry say to you.
“You take it off” you said to him. “Y/n, if I could I would. Please just take it off and-“ he trailed off mid sentence and you looked over to see him falling asleep on the bed.
You laughed at his drunken state and decided to call it a night. Taking your own dress off, you removed your makeup and went back through to see Harry in the same position you had left him.
You pulled out a bottle of water and sat it on his side of the bed because you were sure he would need it when he woke up in the morning. You took off his trousers and left him in his boxers and put the cover over him so he wasn’t too cold. You got in beside him and laid your leg over his thigh and rested your hand on his chest, feeling comforted as you felt his chest slowly rise and fall.
As you lay there, you reflected on the day and how comfortable his whole family made you feel. You couldn’t wait to become a real part of the Styles family.
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lovinpelova · 4 months
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obvious | j. fleming
summary; you and jessie randomly start to grow closer, your teammates notice immediately.
🎵 one life - justin bieber
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jessie fleming was truly one of a kind. you had never met anyone like her- and that's speaking from afar.
you weren't close at all, simply smiling when you crossed paths or celebrating the odd goal together when the timing was right. other than that, jessie stuck to who she knew and so did you. the only time you'd speak to niamh is at england camp, prefering to hang out with sam, zećira and lauren when jessie wasn't with them. you weren't scared of the woman, you'd just missed your chance to grow close when you both joined three years earlier.
that's why it was slightly awkward when emma partnered you up with her that morning.
it just so happened that she was pairing you all up with everyone stood opposite each other, all your teammates arguing over who they were stood in front of as it wasn't a directly straight line between you all but jessie immediately set her eyes on you, both of you smiling softly at the other. you harboured no hard feelings for her and she felt the same - you just simply weren't close friends - so you took this as the opportunity to get to know her better.
emma kept you with your aprtner for the entire training session, moving from simple passing drills to playing matches with your arms linked together so you were forced to improvise. the close proximity had worked like team bonding for you and jessie, making inside jokes and playing like you'd grown up together since you'd learned what the other wanted so quickly. you must admit you were sad when emma dismissed all of you for the day, wanting to spend more time with the canadian as you'd grown so accustomed to her company in such a short space of time.
luckily for you, jessie felt the same way.
"y/n/n wait up!"
she called after you as you were heading into the changing room, catching up and linking your arms together out of habit after how long you'd been like that all day.
"me, niamh, sam and zećira are gonna go grab something to eat around the corner. you wanna come with?"
you smiled down at the thoughtful question, noticing how close she was to you as you opened the changing room door and headed towards your cubby with her following.
"but if you already have plans it's fine-"
"no i'd love to jess! the others won't mind though will they?"
the midfielder shook her head with a smile, happy she was going to spend another couple hours with you. she couldn't explain it- but something was drawing her towards you more than before. she shook it off as wanting to be your friend, not knowing what that always really means for girls who like girls.
you walked to the small café not too far from training with jessie, opting to leave your cars so you could save fuel and get some more steps in. the conversation flowed as smooth as ever as you spoke about the upcoming champions league game against hacken and who you wanted to sit with on the plane, your lives growing up in seperate countries whilst comparing the differences of england and canada- everything you could think of, you and jessie were talking about. you made your way into the café with sam, niamh and zećira narrowing their eyes at the sight of you two so close but deciding to ignore it as they called you over to sit with them.
you didn't miss the way jessies thigh was pushed right up against yours, neither of you moving away. thinking it was just an innocent action of habit since you'd been so close that day or maybe she just hadn't noticed- but when she pressed her thigh further against yours when you accidentally moved it away a bit you knew she was doing it on purpose. zoning out from whatever sam was saying and turning towards jessie, you couldn't help but admire her.
you'd noticed how pretty she was before obviously, it's hard to say she'd bad looking because she truly isn't, but right now you were finding her attractive. you were staring at her lips and noticing the way her body was so tightly pressed up against yours and the way her hand patted your thigh to get your attention- oh god, she'd caught you staring.
"stop zoning out on me and listen to sam, you big dope."
"can't help it when you're so nice to look at, freckles."
you shamelessly flirted back before you could think about it, your hand patting hers and staying there so she couldn't retract it, loving the way her fingertips were tracing shapes on your thigh and palm was covering majorith of your quad. for such a small woman she definitely had big hands. too focused on the way they felt on you though, you missed the way she was staring at you with a massive blush across her cheeks- the other girls didn't.
--------
a month later, you and jessie had truly never been closer. texting every day with the odd phone call or facetime when you felt like it, you'd found a pair of her training joggers in your wardrobe after she left them the other night but opted to wear them instead of returning them (the girls also noticed this, seeing as you didn't sign to chelsea for number seventeen) and she'd stolen one of your hoodies with the excuse of being cold.
you'd be lying if you said you hadn't developed feelings for the woman and were shamelessly projecting them onto her, she hadn't stopped you yet and seemingly felt the same judging by the way she was currently dragging you through the streets of london with your fingers laced together behind her. you sneakily took a picture of your hands and posted it to your instagram story with a heart on the bottom right, ignoring the messages your teammates were immediately piling into you with asks of what you and jessie were doing or teasing jokes of how their favourite canadian is doing.
the girls had figured out you and jessie liked each other a while ago, so it wasn't surprising them when they saw how often you were hanging out or sneaking around training to get a moment alone. you both knew you liked each other but you hadn't said it out loud, instead opting to say it with your actions and celebrating internally when the other didn't hesitate to let you continue or reciprocate.
"you look so good today jeff."
you complimented whilst pulling her back into your arms, your fingers still laced together whilst your other arm rested on her waist to ensure she didn't get shy and turn away from you. the way her grey oversized jumper was falling over her wrist to emphasise her veins, how her black jeans were fitting her well but not too well so she was still comfy, her hair down for once as she wore a golden chain you'd quickly became obsessed with once you noticed it- it was all just so attractive.
"can say the same about you y/n/n."
the canadian flirted shamelessly, smiling at how you were clearly caught off guard by her sudden confidence and the blush that covered your cheeks as a result.
"so, sam was talking to me yesterday and..."
"and?"
jessie trailed off as you continued walking down the street together, ensuring your faces weren't going to be seen by paparazzi but not bothering to hide from fans.
"she said the whole team knows about us so we might as well make it official before they start nagging about it."
"right. well, at training tomorrow we'll just tell them we're dating and get it over with."
you didn't miss the way jessie blushed once you put a label on what you were, deciding to not comment so you saved her embarrassment.
"so we're dating?"
she asked timidly, watching you scoff at her question and shake your head in disbelief.
"what do you think we are?"
"i'd like to be dating- to be your girlfriend."
you stopped walking to pull her into your arms once more, smiling softly down at her as your free hand gently held her face and pulled her into a sweet kiss. the midfielder held your hand that was on her face with her thumb stroking over your knuckles, kissing back immediately like she'd been waiting her whole life for that moment. thanks to sam being the topic of conversation, you and jessie had just shared your first kiss, the ultimate wingwoman. (she'll never let you live that down once you tell her.)
"we're girlfriends then."
you spoke confidently with a smile to match jessies, pecking her lips again and watching her process what just happened for a moment, starting to walk towards your initial destination with matching grins on your faces.
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Text
IT’S YOU, HAPPY ALL THE TIME ─── jonathan breech ✧☾𖦹
ೃ⁀➷ “I ask Jessica what drowning feels like and she says not everything feels like something else." — ‘Jessica gives me a chill pill’, Angie Sijun Lou.
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pairing. jonathan breech x reader
summary. you’ve bared your heart to your bestfriend, jonathan, more times than you can count, whilst knowing practically nothing at all about him. what is friendship if it is not equal… what is love if it is not returned? can your relationship survive such one-sidedness?
warnings. swearing, TW mention & description of suicide/attempts & depression, very introspective/kind of a character study???, alcohol & drug use, pining, ANGST!!!!, crying, fluff, smut with feelings, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (f), SMUT UNDER THE CUT! 
word count. 10k (WTF??!?!!??)
a/n. the title is from “she won’t go away” by faye webster:) btw this is… rly angsty (and SO long omg im still in shock) so beware🫡 ALSO IM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING IN WHILE!! SCHOOL IS KICKING MY BUTT & THIS FIC WAS AN ABSOLUTE MONSTER TO WRITE LMAO
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i. 
There are very few words in your vocabulary you can use to accurately describe Jonathan Breech. 
The boy is an enigma, a matryoshka doll that never ends: he is witty and lighthearted and sarcastic, but you’ll always catch that edge, the air of malaise he carries around himself, the unspoken elephant in the room that screams WHO ARE YOU REALLY?
He had always been more of a figure, a landscape; something to witness, observe-- experience without letting it do the same to you. You don’t know if that’s something you want, either: there’s an imbalance in his hilarity, and he always takes things a step too far. Jonathan lights matches and lets them burn all the way down to his fingertips; he shaves and lets the blade leave stinging little nicks, rivulets of blood running down his neck; he chainsmokes cigarettes in his room and only opens the window when he feels his heart hammering in his chest, desperate for air. 
You meet him — or, first experience him in a similar fashion: he had been in the university library, standing on top of a creaky, old bookshelf, shouting something you couldn’t understand over the music blasting through your headphones. You could certainly see him though, gesturing animatedly, dressed eccentrically in his signature winter trapper hat and a velvet blazer. That thin, effeminate figure of his was making winding, marionette-ish steps along the wood, an action that had everyone readying themselves to catch his inevitable fall. 
Then, seemingly out of nowhere and catching you completely off guard, you caught his eye. He began stepping from one shaky shelf to the next, a complete miracle none of them toppled over, before stopping on one close enough for you to read his lips. 
“Hi,” he mouthed, shifting uneasily on his left foot before regaining a steady balance, “you’re in my class, right?”
You nodded, hesitantly— yes, truthfully, you’d seen him in your Introduction to Literary Studies course a couple of weeks ago, sporting the same outfit as he did now, but you thought nothing of him. He’d been generally well-behaved then, asking slightly odd but in-tune questions that more or less answered all your inquiries, so you didn’t think the guy would have a penchant for, well… book-shelf hopping. 
He grinned, about to say something else, before something — or someone, made him flinch. A professor, probably, considering the unintelligibly muffled, booming voice behind you. However, Jonathan made quick work of the situation, sneakily climbing down and escaping out the door. 
The next time you see him, he’s sidled up beside you in your shared class. “Mind if I sit here?” a familiar voice had asked, to which you murmured a non-committal knock y’self out, before realizing with wide eyes.  His presence had caught you off-guard, as he so often did, and you sensed a pattern blooming. 
Jonathan certainly made for an odd desk-partner; his personality warped the environment around you, and it was suddenly so much easier to tear your eyes away from the lecture and land on Jonathan’s own. It’s something you never thought you’d ever do, because you adore the material being taught. 
At the end of class, he asks you out for a drink: he’s just found the best Irish stout in the entire city, and what better way to make it known than to take anyone and everyone he knows there?
Rejection is written on your face clear as day— you have class tomorrow, an essay that needs to be finished, and honestly, pubs just aren’t really your scene. 
But in the end… you still bite. You can’t help it: he’s disarming and warm and looks like he should smell like a bonfire. Somehow, that just does it for your brain; it’s here you learn of the charm that is Jonathan Breech. 
That night goes everything and nothing like you expected: you expected not to be able to predict his actions, and that’s exactly what happens. When you meet Jonathan at the aforementioned pub, it’s not actually the one he’s meaning to take you to— it’s just the closest public place to the on-campus dorm, which is where he says he’s rooming. 
“‘ve got a neighbor m’pretty sure is trying to sleep with me,” he says absently, ushering you onto the back of his bike, which had been leaning against a NO PARKING sign. “He’s always toget’er wit’ our dorm advisor, so I should l reject him before I get kicked out, if y’get what I mean.”
Now, you honestly should’ve expected this from a guy who jumped from six-foot book shelves, but Jonathan’s biking is all swift turns and jilted stops, mere milliseconds from repeatedly running red lights. You want to ask if he just learned how to ride the thing yesterday, but can’t, not with how utterly reckless and shameless he is about it, his terrible steering making you instinctively wrap your arms around his chest. 
You clutch him tightly, making him hum in approval, and you feel your ears burn flusteredly. You would’ve pulled away, but then he cut from the right lane to the left in one swift move, barely missing several cars, and you practically shrieked instead. “Oh my god!”
“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly. You can’t see his face, having shut your eyes in fear, but after hearing the blatant cheekiness in his tone, you can imagine clear as day how gleefully it contorts. You want to slap him somewhere, anywhere, but that’d defeat the point of being mad at his recklessness, so you squeeze him tighter instead, and he chokes on his breath. “Jesus-- m’sorry, really!”
When the two of you make it to the pub — alive and uninjured! — annoyingly all the way across town, your first few steps off his bike are stuttered, dizzy: “We are-- not going by bike next time,” you gasp, leaning against a random brick wall. 
“Next time, eh?” He grins, and this time you really do slap him— just on the arm, bless your self-control and niceties not to beat this oddly comfortable-to-be-around near-stranger to death. 
The pub, with its forgettable name and dingy stools, has a minimal, lackluster crowd. A kitschy neon sign flickers and dies as you walk in, making you raise a brow, but Jonathan merely drags you by the arm to a cozy corner table, then disappearing deeper within the venue before returning moments later with two pints of black beer in tow.
“Go on, then,” he gestures, setting the tall glass on the table, sitting down in the chair in front of you and taking a hearty sip of his own drink.
You let out a little hesitant sigh at his words, before relenting and taking in a long gulp of the liquid. “…Huh,” you remark, impressed. Jonathan smiled knowingly behind his glass, letting out a smug little ah, you see? 
“Worth the long ride?” he inquired innocently, as if that was the only thing wrong with the night.
“Worth the ride, but not worth almost dying for,” you rolled your eyes goodheartedly, knocking back the rest of the bitter drink and making him whistle. 
The rest of the night goes like this: Jonathan orders two more rounds of the quality Irish stout before the two’ve you are stumbling out of the pub, exploring all the nightlife there is to offer, like the crowd surrounding an out-door live comedy group performing down the street that has you and Jonathan giggling for hours after, or the underground speakeasy you accidentally find yourselves shoved into, a nasally guitarist singing on a smoky stage, several more drinks finding themselves in your system despite how nauseous you already feel.
“You-- d’you fancy him?” Jonathan slurs behind you, steadying himself by pressing his hands to your waist.
“F-fancy who?” you blink blearily, leaning into his warm touch.
“Who else m’I talkin’ about, girl? The singer!”
You shake your head no numbly, practically collapsing into his arms now, your head lulling on his chest. You’re so close you can smell the distinct scent of his skin, that unique musk everyone has, and it’s strangely familiar, like those smells that evoke old, nostalgic memories. It’s like how sunscreen summons the smell of the sun after a childhood beach day, or how vanilla extract takes you back to the smell of your mother’s baked goods on a specific winter evening.
“Reckoned you wouldn’t,” he assumes, hands coming away from your waist to wrap his arms around your shoulders, swaying to the music slightly in the crowded club, “looks like a -- right bleedin’ dope… wit’ that mop of hair.”
You giggle, alcohol riddled beyond belief, unable to formulate a response with the conflicting blurry thoughts in your head: it’s telling you Jonathan Breech isn’t the crowd you want, that you need to go home and work, that you let loose too easily— but it also tells you that you can see yourself becoming friends with him very, very quickly. 
It’s there, in that club, Jonathan Breech moves into your life and fills a gaping hole you didn’t know existed, like a hole in your stockings you only notice when you get home. You have friends, certainly, more than you can count on both hands, but they never get as close as Jonathan does. After that night, an unknown force pulls the two of you together, making you run into him everywhere, and a tight friendship blooms like a lilypad in a raging storm; beauty within the chaos. In the multitude of close friendships you’ve harbored, he is the first to see so many sides of you. The last thing that did was your mother; it had only ever been your mother. 
He is an endearing, amazing friend, both the intent listener and the charismatic speaker all at once; he knows his friends like the back of his hand, can recount their life like he can count the number of moles on his face-- but you, and everyone else, know absolutely nothing about him. 
At least, close to nothing-- you know he likes ice cream and hanging out and going to the pub; you know he likes biking and doing drugs and women; you know he hates the sea and his brother and his father, but you don’t know him. All you’ve ever seen him do is smile or laugh or shout in mock anger; there is a carefully glued mask on his face he takes meticulous caution in preserving-- he is terrified to let go, despite the blasé persona he lets on.
Or maybe the mysterious matter of your bestfriend is tripping you up for no reason; maybe you’re psychoanalyzing something that doesn’t need to be psychoanalyzed, reading between lines that don’t exist. But if you were asked to answer honestly, there’s just something about Jonathan you don’t get. There is a split seam in the tapestry of his life, missing pieces in the story he pretends to tell with utmost accuracy. There are things that he never talks about, that he recoils when asked like you’ve poked a tender wound. 
“So, what were you doing before… all this?” You ask him once, laying on his messy bed in his dorm-room and scanning the water-damage constellations dotted along his popcorn ceiling. By all this you mean going to university, being the resident party boy, aimlessly pursuing a degree you’re 99% sure he picked blindfolded (culinary science) and standing here, with you, snorting a line of something on his creaky wooden desk. 
Jonathan freezes, still hunched over. “What d’you-- what d’you mean?” he says, tone breezy but, uncharacteristically tense… jilted and preoccupied. You could’ve brushed it off as him being seriously focussed on his drugs, but the way he shifts, how his shoulders curl in like he wants to disappear, tells you otherwise. 
“I mean, before going to school here… y’know, what were you like as a dumb teenager?”
You two’re twenty, barely not-teenagers, but it still makes a world of a difference: you’re living away from home, doing what you want, experiencing (a juvenile, naive version of) freedom and adulthood.
“I dunno… kind of a tool, that's f’sure,” he chuckled, rubbing his nose roughly. He’s being funny on purpose, a jester’s distraction: he doesn’t want you to realize his answers’ not really one at all. 
You shifted on his bed, now leaning against his headboard. His answer strikes you as odd and uncharacteristic despite his attempts to evade suspicion: usually, Jonathan pounces at the chance to yap on and on. “What, the great Jonathan Breech doesn’t have any wild stories to tell? No bones broken, girls dumped, houses trashed?” 
He snorted at that, like some inside joke you weren’t privy to was brought up in your words, and he descended back down on a carefully partitioned line of white. “I broke my baby finger once,” he relented vaguely when he finished, dusting off the table and licking the remains off his hand. “I cried and I cried and I cried.”
“Did it hurt that much?” you grinned, mind trailing off to imagine a baby-faced Jonathan Breech, a juvenile highschool boy, doing something silly to break that finger. Maybe he accidentally flung off his bike, broke it because of a dare, or maybe it happened just by slipping and falling. 
“It - uh… didn’t hurt enough,” Jonathan smiled, tight-lipped and paltry. All at once the air in the room had changed, like someone attached a vacuum to the window and sucked everything out. 
Your grin fell, and you watched him carefully: perhaps, had you not been as close to him as you were, he’d have let something show. A twitch in the smile, a break in the facade. But you were, and his face stayed the same, and your thoughts ran circles around themselves. This was… something else, something belonging to the part of his life he didn’t talk about. 
The atmosphere had grown tense, taut, a rubber band twisted ‘round and round, threatening to burst, so you leave the matter of his injury alone; of his life alone. You go back to staring at his ceiling, he goes back to his drugs; Jonathan collapses within himself, and you don’t notice how badly he suffocates… how suffering in silence is also accompanied by the overwhelming desire to be found.
ii.
Sometimes, despite his self-imposed distance, Jonathan lets someone look inside his head. 
You are both the sometimes and the someone; you don’t know why it’s always you, but you chalk it up to the fact that beneath his unpredictable demeanor, the murky and unreadable feelings he holds for others, is this uncharacteristic constant: he holds a softness for you. It’s what lets you know there’s something haunted lurking beneath his happy-go-lucky surface. 
You don’t know where this softness comes from, either. But you know you see it, in lingering touches, tender duchenne smiles unlike the devilish tilt his lips usually hold, how he clasps his hand around yours after a night at the pub and walks you home because he knows you get paranoid. You see it in how he comes over to your apartment when you don’t answer anyone's calls during exam season, how he remembers what your mother’s name is and what your childhood pet was and what your favorite flowers are. How his lips brush past your cheek when he pulls away from hugs, his hands shuddering around your shoulders, like he’s afraid he’ll crush you.
You only wish you could do the same. You want to sit by his side and mend his heart, lend an ear to his most mundane fears, you want to take his hand into your own and kiss it softly, return all that he has done for you, take the same as you have given to him: what is friendship if it is not equal, what is love if it is not returned? It is something broken, unable; split halves of one heart, an imbalance in the scale, Bonnie without her Clyde, a fish out of water. 
Jonathan pours his heart into your own, filling holes you know you don’t have, and you think he may be overcompensating for something else, seeing things in you that really belong to him. It is maddening, and you just want to beg and plead he lets you in. 
But you settle for the gentle pokes, the prodding, and try to decipher the vague answers he gives you. Most days, you can’t really make sense of it. 
“Sorry,” you apologize, about to leave the outing you planned with Jonathan — studying, or, trying to study, at an intimate coffeebar the two of you frequented — “my dad’s gotten drunk with his lads and my mum needs help dragging him home.”
 “Hey, hey, don’t worry. I get it: my dad used to do that all the time,” he waves your words off casually, but you don’t miss how jilted he says used to and the pain in his tone at all the time.
“Oh, surely she was fit to go to the madhouse?” you laughed once, responding to Jonathan’s complaints about an eccentric classmate in his agricultural studies. He laughs back, he always does, but this one is hollow, forced; barely stopping a grimace from coloring his tone. 
You notice these things like it’s a shadow following someone in the sun. He is lying, hiding; about something you don’t know but it is happening. It is happening, and you are so very curious: you pick up on the littlest tendrils of him, fed wholly on any information you can squeeze out. He is a mystery you want to delve within completely; answer that question of WHO ARE YOU REALLY? and leave no room for error. 
You’d give yourself to him the very same if he merely asked; you’d whisper childhood fears and tell the origin stories of faded scars on your knees and why you check under your bed before sleeping. You’d detail your entire life from sunset birth to starry night end if he even made a passing comment about knowing; you would trust your love, your heart, your entire life in his beautiful, shaky hands. This is the relationship you have built around yourselves, and it is beginning to feel terribly one-sided. 
Alas, your curiosity overwhelms him, and you take it too far, just once. Only once. 
“Where’d this come from?” you murmur, brushing your fingers over a scar above his eyebrow. It’s something you see only now, his hair mussed and wild from the various blankets and pillows on your dinky couch. 
He’s crashing at your apartment tonight, an invited event, because you often miss him like you miss home; the boy is sneaky— he slinks away like a street cat and only comes back for food. It’s only fair he lets you wrangle him back like this, making him stay by your side at least once a week.  
Your words make him freeze, like he often does; it reminds you of hikers, who freeze when they see mountain lions— he thinks if he stops and stares and pretends to disappear you’ll look the other way, drop the question, forget him completely.
But you don’t. You don’t know what’s affecting him -- not that he wants you to -- so you just stare back into his cornflower blue eyes. You stop and stare and see right through him; you hold the question like a knife to his neck, and commit him to memory. 
“The scar?” Jonathan pales, shuddering despite it having long since been healed over. The aftershocks of an earthquake. 
You simply nod, fingers pulling away. You’re still closer than ever though, the two of you being the only things in your cramped concrete apartment, the chosen movie on your telly still running and long forgotten. 
Your attention remains on him, brandished into something dangerous, like you’ll carve the answer out of him if you have to— but the moment passes. He doesn’t say anything and you accept that as the answer. Gone is your razor-sharp focus, and there is nothing more to the matter. 
But Jonathan doesn’t register this, no, he’s thinking, gears in his head turning and creaking. His tongue grazes against the backs of his teeth, jaw chattering like it was as cold as it was when… as cold as it was back then, and he doesn’t want to tell anyone— but it’s you. You’re not just anyone. 
You’re the one he holds a certain softness for. The one he equally bares his heart to and holds the most secrets from. The one he’s most terrified to know. The only one he wants to know. 
So, he decides to tell a partial truth— something digestible. People adore that which can easily slide down the gullet: news headlines don’t detail the goriness of a murder, they give the “insider” scoop of the scared neighbor. To be able to digest information is what makes the world go round, and he does not think you could digest the full truth-- he does not think he wants you to. 
He feels ill at the thought of anything between you changing— oh, how ruined he’d feel if you began treating him like fucking glass.
This abhorrent social pressure is what makes Jonathan grit this sentence through his teeth: “I got into a car accident,” he gulps dry, “when I was nineteen. Was drunk… went fer a spin. I skidded off a -- um, an empty highway. The tall sorts; high up, y’know. Fell.”
His voice makes you look back up at him, and your eyes are beautiful and tense— it breaks his heart. He knows you’re probably thinking it was in-character, how expected that is of Jonathan Breech, how you’ll easily take this partial truth, how you’ll never know the full one until it comes in a letter under your door and he’s long gone. 
“Tell me,” you ask him, lips falling into a near-frown instead of laughing or grinning wider. It’s hushed, whispered like a secret, “What did it feel like? Falling, I mean.”
Jonathan licks his lips, bores his shaking gaze into your own, and tells you not everything feels like something else. That the word connotes all you need to know. Falling meant he was falling; his arms raised and the air took him and that was it. 
It makes your brows twist and your lips press into a thin line: his nonchalance is worrying, no more his signature characteristic— there is something wrong about this apathy toward injury, toward the potential death. 
“Is that how you broke your finger?” You murmur, and it startles him. How you pieced the two things together, how you weaved a web from what little you knew about him; how futile his attempts to hide could be.
“What?” he responds, hoarse. There is a lurking shadow in his bones telling him he’ll taint you, telling him to be ashamed, telling him how badly you will never be his. It is such a damning reality, that no matter how much he may yearn for you, he is too incomplete to meet your needs; he is too hurt not to hurt you too. 
“The car accident. Is that how you broke your pinkie?” you repeat, and you gripped his hand resting at your side, bringing it up to present the finger to him like he forgot where his pinkie was. 
Jonathan’s gaze darts from you to the finger, and he feels his insides quiver; so badly does he want to spill his entire soul to you. But that internal reminder -- hurt people hurt people hurt people -- makes him settle for nodding, parted lips locking closed. 
Nothing special happens that night, no shocking revelation or bombarded confession; Jonathan nods, keeps his lips sealed, and gets up from the couch, figure dreary and fatigued. He murmurs an incomplete excuse, something half-baked and blatantly unconvincing that he has to leave, and you let him go. You think you’re imagining the shudder in his shoulders, the shake in his voice as he says goodbye, and you let him go. 
It’s there, like that club so long ago, you discover another thing about Jonathan Breech: push too far and he shuts down, closes shop and puts up his guard forever. It’s the mere fact of how attentive you are to his words; you remember how he broke his finger, and he realizes he cannot hide from you any longer. 
You’re reaching a point in your friendship -- your relationship, no matter platonic or romantic for all lines have been crossed; nobody is so raw to one another with love not involved -- where you’ll bare your hearts on your sleeves, share your every thought and dream and fear. But Jonathan won’t be able to reciprocate, and the very thought of rejecting you, betraying you, makes his stomach twist in knots. That crestfallen face of yours would haunt him for all time, your every melancholy feature burning into his memory like the scars left by cigarettes on skin.
So he leaves, hurt people hurt people hurt people echoes in his ears all the way home; he turns into an alleyway shortcut and prays death swoops down and takes him right there. He leaves his consciousness curled lovingly in your arms; his shell walks home and prays you’re none the wiser. But you’ve already reached that point in your relationship; you already know. 
When people die, or friendships do, sometimes they end with just a goodbye, a mild, casual goodbye because you think there’ll be dozens, hundreds more-- but there won’t be. Suddenly, alone in that cramped apartment, the buzzing from the tv filling your ears, your couch still warm from someone long gone, you know.
You know you startled him, that he’s left your apartment and he’ll never come back. Your heart cools, and she whispers that you took it too far, that you crossed a line you were never made aware of, that when you see him in class tomorrow he might not sit next to you, he might not talk to you, that you might lose him forever because he is too stubborn to open up and you are too stubborn to let him go. 
Well, you were too stubborn to let him go. 
It’s three weeks before you speak to Jonathan again. Three long, dragging weeks, moments in time where he avoided your gaze, evaded your presence, slipped past you before you got too close. You certainly try, of course— you seek him out every chance you get, trying to get an I’m sorry, please talk to me out before he runs off, but it’s virtually impossible.
Once, after class, you’d caught him in the middle of a flurry of exiting students by the velvet blazer, your hands curled around the lapel. “Jonathan,” you panted, trying to drag him off to the side to escape the bustling activity around you, “please, we need to talk--“
But then Jonathan had faced you, eyes widened and spooked like he’d seen a ghost, a never-before-seen-by-you fear covering his gracefully cut features, before he tugged off the black blazer and escaped into the crowd. He had seen you, widened his eyes, left. Such a simple action tore your heart in two; it had confirmed your suspicions— you’d gone too far, he was never coming back, and you were all alone. There you stood, fingers wrapped around one of his favorite articles of clothing starkly without its beloved owner, completely alone. 
In three measly weeks, he has put up a biting winter of distance between you two. 
Your feelings are unable to comprehend themselves— they fight and sob and run circles around your mind, they make you doubt, crumble, devour yourself from the inside out; they make you ask yourself what you can do to salvage this, what can you do to fix this? What is there to make of him, of his behavior; what do you do with yourself and this guilt?
If you could imagine time was a construct, you were certain you could convince yourself this stretch of time was nothing… propel yourself into a present where Jonathan does not afflict your mind, take over your every thought— does not ruin you like so. If only you could do that, you could close your eyes and reopen them when you’ve let go. But you were always too stubborn to let him go, weren’t you?
It’s three weeks to the day before you speak to Jonathan again, and it happens through the crack of his dorm door, your arm wedged through it because you know he is not cruel; he will let you in without a doubt.  
“Please,” you plead to Jonathan, “just— I just want to talk. Please?”
He stares at you straight, expression cold and reserved, before he breaks and pulls away; bites his lip, lets you in his room, doesn’t look you in the eye. Looking around, you sense something in his dorm has changed; it had gained a bereft quality, like it was attuned to Jonathan’s state of mind and felt depressed beyond your comprehension. There was a cold air to the place, an utmost frigid demeanor to a room incredibly warm just weeks prior. In your absence, the dorm had been neglected, gutted, abandoned. 
“I’m sorry,” are the first words that tumble out of your mouth. “I- I know you don’t like… talking about -- about your life before here, and I’m sorry. But please, Jonathan, just talk to me. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you.”
He sits down on the edge of his weak bedframe, pulling his knees up and pressing his face into them. “You don’t need to-- don’t… don’t apologize. You don’t need t’make it better, either. All’s grand.” he promises, words muffled and shaky. It’s a weeping kind of tone; you could just as easily imagine him sobbing with that voice. 
Your brows knit. Your emotions are wavering, treading brutally between disbelief, despair and rancor. “Then -- then why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you avoid me? Why did you - why did we spend these last three weeks playing cat and mouse, if you weren’t mad at me? Is this your sick idea of a joke?”
“No! I-- jesus christ,” Jonathan looked up from his hands before immediately pressing two fingers between his eyes, “I wasn’t … avoiding you.”
“I haven’t seen you in weeks!” you point out painfully, exasperated. “You know, you’ve been avoiding me for longer than this. You— you push me away any chance you get. You’re afraid. I don’t know of what, but you’re- so fucking secretive, and it’s tearing me apart.”
“I’m not - afraid of anything. I’m just a private person— you know this. Would you, if I ‘pushed you away?!’” 
At his denying deflection, something within you snaps: “Why won’t you - fucking let me in? I’ve — I’ve bared my soul to you; you know me from the inside out. I trust you with my life— why, why can’t you do the same?”
“I didn’t ask you to do that! And I didn’t — I didn’t mean t’get so close to you, okay?!” He bursts, and you flinch. His hands shakily come up to his face once more; he wipes roughly but it’s no use— you’ve already seen his delicate tears threatening to spill, and it burns more holes in your heart than you thought his suffering would.
“What are you talking about?” you pry, now without any cautious reservations about his demeanor.
“I didn’t mean to get so fucking attached, because - ‘cause I…” Jonathan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, “fuck.”
“What?” you repeat, but it’s softer, concerned; how quickly his body language shifted from irritated to terrified has you scrambling to support him. “Talk to me,” you ask, taking nervous steps closer, like you were approaching a wounded animal.
He sucks in a sharp breath, and holds it, like he did cigarette smoke, before exhaling heavily. “Okay- okay. When I was - nineteen, I drove a car… I drove off a cliff and tried t’kill myself. I was-- admitted to a psychiatric hospital for a year, and when I got out I moved here f’school. I- I… promised m’self I wouldn’t let anyone get too close.”
The confession hangs in the air, a lonely little thing; it’s a bleeding piece of his own heart he’s plucked and placed in your palms. He shudders, and you want to nurture it like nothing else. This is a culmination of a year’s worth of evasion coming to a close; you’re seeing him completely, rawly, for the first time.
“But- but why? You don’t have to— Jonathan, you don’t need to do that just because you - you… y’know.”
“I’m- I know that,” he starts brashly, defensively. “It’s b’cause I am very, very aware of my - of m’own self destructiveness…” His words taper off into something of grief; the Sisyphean struggle of wanting to live, while that depressive boulder pushes him back, colors him completely. “I just… I didn’t want to - t’hurt anyone in case I -- in case next time I succeeded.”
“Next time?” you repeat, and your voice broke in a way you wish was less vulnerable, less blatantly miserable.
“This is why I didn’t want to—“ Jonathan sighs, deflates, “I’m not telling you this because I want you to - t’fucking save me, okay? I’m telling you this because you wanted to know, and I couldn’t hide from you anymore. Because you asked.”
“You didn’t need t’hide it in the first place!” you exclaimed, coming closer to him. “You’ve never had to hide a fucking ‘ting from me.”
“You wouldn’t have understood!” He said back, volume nearing a shout. “You’ll treat me differently now, you see, you’ll look at me fuckin’ different—“
It made your heart sink-- how sure his words were, how certain he was of your rejection. How little trust did he have in you? 
(You remember he wanted to sink, too-- lose himself in the baby blue sea; let it swallow him whole and never be seen again.)
“You - you really think I’ll treat y’differently because of this? You know my every crevice, my every thought-- I have never once doubted that you’ll accept me.”
“I-I… why should I - expect any of this to stay the same?”
Suddenly, you took his face into your hands. “Because I-- I fucking love you, okay? And it’s not just friendly, or romantic, even if it’s both— I’m… I love you like nothing I’ve ever loved before. I accept and adore your every skill and flaw and antic; you wormed your way into my heart and I want to worm my way into yours.”
“That doesn’t mean—“ Jonathan tried to interject, a noise all utter disbelief. You cut him off, though, continuing your sudden confession; you hadn’t been privy to these own romantic feelings of yours till moments prior, but everything being said just felt right. 
“Jonathan, I don’t care if you drove a car off a cliff or cyanide-poisoned our professor or blew something up, because I love you. You, with all your problems and great, big, beautiful life. All I want is for you to want that life; I want you to want me in it. I feel it in my bones that I’m meant to love you; you are meant to be my home, you are everything I am supposed to know. It won’t fix you or fix anything at all but I just need you to know-- I need you to know the why to my every action. It’s because I love you.”
He looked up at you, wide-eyed, head resting in your gentle hold. “I - don’t know what to say… are you - for real?”
“As real as can be,” you smiled back at him, tracing circles along his smooth skin; you could’ve drank in that attentive stare of his for hours upon hours. “I love you, and nothing and no-one, not even you, can change that.” An aching grip had clenched around your heart at his words, that blatant disbelief: are you for real? God, had you ever been-- had you ever fucking been. 
Jonathan’s mouth opened to speak, but instead, he let out an agonizing sort of cry; an exclamation of utter surprise at the loving acceptance. Then, he hesitantly leaned into your touch, as if he’d never hugged before, wrapping his arms around your waist to snatch you as close to him as possible. He held you tighter and tighter as the seconds went by, like this was all a mocking dream his yearning mind had made up; that if he closed his eyes now he’d wake up desolate, alone, without you for eternity. His worst nightmare. 
“…God, I’m so - fucking stupid,” he grumbled, sounding angry, but you could feel vulnerable, hot tears soaking into the fabric of your shirt. “To assume you, of all people, would act that way… you of all people.” He said that tenderly; you of all people certainly meant miles more things you weren’t explicitly aware of, but you still felt the sentiment. “I’m not -- poetic or anything like that… but I love you, too.”
You chuckled a beautiful, wet laugh. “You don’t hafta’ say anything sweet or special. You’re everything to me.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, before wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pulling you onto the mattress with him. He flipped you beneath him, and held himself up by the forearms laying on either side of your head. “Fuck, I love you. I love you.” Jonathan repeated the words several more times, strange and foreign but right at home being said to you. Like his mouth was made to only ever say I love you to you. 
Suddenly, you pressed your lips to his, shutting him up momentarily. You could still feel the vibrations of I love you rumbling in his throat as you kissed him. Your tongues danced along one another, an all consuming waltz; you wanted to know everything about him, down to the taste of his tongue, memorize how sweet his mouth felt on yours. Oh, how you longed for this moment; how could you ever think about love again, and yearn for it, without thinking of Jonathan?
You reckoned that’s what this had been the whole time; your love started as a little flame, something under the guise of friendship, but the two of you had fanned it, nurtured it-- all of a sudden the miniature warmth of platonic love burst into a raging, adoring fire. You’d fed this flame with tenderness, and it responded in kind; you could never again look at Jonathan without a certain intimate reverie. Perhaps that’d been why Jonathan found it so hard to cut off this relationship as he had dozens others: something primal and unconscious within him had begged him not to let you go— some higher being knew his home was only ever in your arms. 
Jonathan deepened the kiss hungrily, pressing his weight onto you and pushing you into the mattress. Your head was spinning from the lack of air, and one of your hands had to sneak beneath his hat and tug at his hair to get him to stop. “Hey,” you panted, looking worriedly into his eyes, “what’s up?”
“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, hanging his head lowly for a moment before meeting your gaze once more, batting his long lashes. “Jus’ missed you. Thas’ all.”
“Missed y’too,” you murmured, pulling him back down to kiss you again. Your hands left the crown of his head and trailed down his backside, tracing over the curves and bumps of his frumpy yellow v-neck sweater. 
That touch of yours seemed to spur him on even more, and his kisses began to travel; along your jaw, to your pulse, down the long ravine of your neck, tongue darting out to lick the hollow of your collarbone, making you squeal. He chuckled against your skin, a genuine amusement rather than the mocking one you two so frequently practiced, and it all went downhill from there. His hands skillfully tugged off your tank top, knee between your clenched thighs, more teasing kisses being planted along your now bare -- save for your bra -- chest.
You didn’t mean to come over, profess your love and suddenly jump into a steamy, yearning makeout session (which, you were pretty sure was venturing off into sex…) but you supposed that apologizing— arguing, whatever —meant your relationship went back on track to wherever it was heading… which may have been set to end with an ardor romance anyway. This love of yours would’ve bursted at the seams of friendship; it could not be confined by such mere things as labels. 
“Fuck,” you groaned, arching into his teasing kisses along the peaks of your breasts, his hands ghosting around your clothed chest but never touching. “Please, Jon.”
You could feel his cheeky grin on your skin, “Tell me what you want, love.”
“…Take this off,” you demanded gently, referring to Jonathan’s sweater.
“Your wish is my command.” he snickered, obliging and removing the yellow knit-- as well as his white undershirt and pajama bottoms. He was left in a pair of boxer-shorts and that silly, silly winter-trapper hat, his fingers sneaking up to your supple thighs and tickling the edges of your jean-shorts; a silent plea. 
“Eager,” you mumbled, noticing his over-compliance in completely stripping, smiling and guiding his hands to the waistband of your shorts to tug the tight article off. 
When he did so, you shivered, both at the feeling of being only in your underwear, as well as Jonathan’s sharp, attentive gaze. “You’re so beautiful,” he panted, eyes exploring your every sweet feature. 
He was enamored with your bare body, not in a sexual way despite the blatantly sexual situation, but rather in a worshiping, religiously devoted way. It may’ve been blasphemous to think so, but Jonathan’s sudden chaste kisses along the curve of waist only seemed to prove you right; his mouth on you was gentle, like he’d held you before, except now without any guilt or hesitation. It was a holy way of loving you; something all-consuming, becoming the epicenter of a life, becoming the purpose, motivation, and belief all at once. 
That familiar broiling in your gut occurred as he made his way closer to the pulsing, lace-covered place between your legs; your hands were gripping the sheets tightly in pure anticipation, his hot breath on your sensitive skin. “Don’t be such a tease,” you pouted, legs fumbling for purchase along his body, trying to pull him closer to you.
“We’ve got all the time in the world,” he hummed, but his fingers still curled into the band of your baby-blue panties and dragged them down in one desperate go, “but I do wanna taste you….”
Jonathan’s veiny hands pried your quivering thighs apart, murmuring an offhand already stole y’panties, don’t get all shy on me now when you whimpered flusteredly, before he descended on your dripping lips, licking a flat-tongued stripe up to your clit. 
You gasped at the sudden action, but it quickly morphed into a choked moan when he pressed himself further and parted your lips, nose to your pelvic bone; he made quick work of you, artfully curling his long tongue into your hole and slurping your slick. 
“So sweet,” he praised, the vibrations of his voice making your thighs clench around his head. He hummed in amusement at your reaction, lapping you up quicker; he kitten-licked and slobbered, feeding on your sticky cunt, tongue darting in every direction, feeling your walls and prying deeper into your hot hole, which ached for the cock straining against the mattress now. The bottom half of Jonathan’s face was now positively soaked, glistening with his own drool and your needy wetness, all of it mixing dirtily and sliding down the length of his neck. 
“Jon!” you mewled, hands tearing off his trapper hat and flinging it elsewhere before curling your hands into his mousy brown hair and pushing his face deeper into your pussy, desperate to come. You were riding his face now — or, attempting to, more accurately bucking up into him — adoring his unceasing ministrations. He was basically fucking you with his tongue, overstimulating your clit with teasing licks then pulling away, feeling along the ridges of your walls.
“Pick m’hat up later, love,” he tutted, pulling away slightly to see where you’d haphazardly thrown it, and your desperate whine neared a sob. He breathed in sharply, taking in how quickly he’d undone you: in a matter of minutes, your expression had grown wanton, eyes blown out, drooling, hair askew, bra riding up your tits and revealing your sweet, puffy nipples. 
Jonathan quickly forgot about the state of his beloved hat, and went back down on you, mouth devouring in full force once again. You rolled your hips forward, and when he pulled his tongue out of your wet hole to suckle softly on your fleshy nub, your eyes rolled back into your head and your legs shook around his face, toes curling tightly. A choked moan left you alongside the sudden climax, sounding a hundred percent pornographic and all for him. 
You panted, silent and unmoving for a moment, and Jonathan began moving to get up and let you take a breather before continuing, absolutely terrified to push you too far or do anything you didn’t want to do— he was the spontaneous one, and you were the responsible one, but that didn’t mean he ever wanted to force anything upon you. His simultaneous decisions were made mostly in part with your interests in mind; he made the decisions you were too nervous and over-thinking to choose quicker. 
However, you took a long breath, then trailed your hand over the painfully noticeable bulge within his soft boxers. “Wan’… make you feel good,” you murmured, flattening your hand against his erection. 
Jonathan inhaled sharply, pitifully affected by the minor touch but holding back with an incredible amount of self restraint. “I can wait,” he offered sweetly, one of his hands coming up to your flattened hand’s forearm to rub the skin. 
You shook your head foggily, cupping him through the fabric, slowly adding friction by sliding your hand up and down. 
“S-shit,” he bit his lip, “you want this now, baby?”
You nodded vehemently with a whimper, and to make more of a point, you reached behind and unclasped your bra, tossing it elsewhere on his dirty dorm floor, before beginning to slip off his underwear. 
The hand on your arm stopped you, though, in favor of doing it himself and pressing his weight further onto you, your chests flush with one another. You were only able to take in thin breaths, making your head spin, but it also amplified the  arousal blooming in your cunt when Jonathan slotted himself at your soaking entrance, collecting his saliva and your slick on his tip. 
Before he pushed in, however, his head dipped into the hollow of your neck, plush lips brushing past the shell of your ear. “Is this okay?” he murmured, pressing a wet kiss to your temple. 
“Please,” you whined, hands pushing flat on his back to bring him closer to you.
With that, Jonathan slowly buried his length within your cunt, making your breath hitch. “I love you,” he groaned, entering you inch by inch, relishing how your warmth swallowed him whole. “Fuck, I love you so much.”
Your hole was stuffed beyond belief, but Jonathan was gentle with you, caressing your waist with the rough pads of his fingers and massaging you, trying to ease his entrance into something painless. Obviously, with that length and thickness it couldn’t be painless at all, but his attempts helped your mind drift off elsewhere and take some of the attention off the stinging stretch. 
After a long moment of ragged breathing, Jonathan cooing words of praise into your neck as he kissed you without moving, you dug your fingers into the skin of his back: “More,” you choked out, the fullness in your cunt now feeling delicious rather than cringeworthy. 
He smirked against your skin, “Looks like you’re t’eager one now.”
“Oh, get on with it,” you rasped and he let out a low chuckle, sliding out of your hole before thrusting back in. That first movement already made your hips jerk up into him, back arching. It was like all the warmth in your body had collected in your cunt, leaving you freezing from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, but still with a needy, burning fire in your insides. 
Jonathan’s pace was affectionate and rhythmic: you could feel the tenderness in his each and every gentle roll of the hips. It made you feel like the sun, how attentive he was, but he was also so fucking slow. If anything, that had your walls clenching onto him harder than if he hammered into you— that slow build-up of friction was dizzying. You squirmed, cunt clenching and contracting around his smooth thrusts— you wanted to take him within you completely, cause more friction for you were going stir-crazy with this lazy speed. 
“F-fuck! Faster, please,” you cried out, unable to take his sensual movements any longer. Your legs were twitching with his patient movements, and you could’ve sworn you saw a cheeky grin on his lips. The bastard— even in sex was he teasing you, wanting to torture you until you gave in to the pleasure and begged him to ruin you.  
Sure, this was your first time together, and was going extremely pleasantly and sweetly, but you were actually pretty fond of the idea of letting him pound into you like there was no tomorrow… 
At the lewd thought, your walls pulsed around his cock, making him buck up unintentionally, hitting that sweet spot within you. He grunted at the feeling of your tightened cunt, while you cried out his name, pleasure running like a current through your body. Your face was on fire, reminiscent of a raging fever, and your insides were coiling— god, how did his cock just feel so perfect within you?
“Oh,” he grinned in a pant, “found y’spot, didn’t I?”
Jonathan didn’t give you a chance to speak before he pulled out so far his tip was the only thing in your hole, before slamming back in and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Props to him-- he hit your g-spot with utmost accuracy, and you let out a long, stuttered mewl, scratching at his freckled back, legs twitching. Your wail was almost catatonic, loud and cock-drunk, dripping unabashed, filthy pleasure. 
“Makin’ such sweet noises f’me,” he praised huskily, hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead, “fuck, ‘ve gotta hear that again.”
He must’ve noticed your neediness earlier, when he was slow and languid, for the new speed he set was double- no, triple that: his hips were snapping against yours, balls smacking filthily against your lips, left hand pinning your hips down and letting him sink into you faster. Shocks of pleasure tore through you at the sudden increase in speed- he’d inured you so well to the torturously slow pace from earlier that this new frenzied one felt like getting hit by a bullet train. You were overstimulated and needing more of him all at once, practically vibrating with need under his touch. 
“I’ve- hnngh- wanted this…” you gasped between moans, “f-for so long…”
“Wanted m’cock?” Jonathan questioned in a hiss, feeling with his every inch how your walls absolutely soaked him. His tone was, obviously, sarcastic, but it still made you feel incredibly lewd. 
You shook your head numbly, “Wanted you… I love you, Jon!”
“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he purred, fucking you faster and making you writhe beneath him, “love you s’much.”
Jonathan targeted the spongy, swollen spot deep within your cunt, suddenly filled with a renewed vigor and motivation to make you come as quickly as possible, and he pounded into that one, specific spot, watching how you twitched and squirmed, heavy moans exiting you. He was relentless, hands reaching to hook under your knees and spread you wider. 
At the new angle, his cock penetrated you even deeper, fuller, which you thought wasn’t possible with how goddamn full you already felt, but when his thick cockhead brushed up against your cervix you thought you were going to burst. Then, one of his hands came up to your tits to knead the flesh, and you squeaked when he tweaked your soft nipples. He was pawing at your sweet tits, fondling you in a needy, boyish way, like yours were the first pair of boobs he’d ever felt. 
“M’close!” you gasped, mind going fuzzy with pure ecstacy. Your skin prickled with goosebumps, cold  sweat running down your spine, a terribly stark in contrast feeling to the warmth buzzing under your skin. 
“C-can’t last much longer either,” he choked, still pumping in and out of your sticky hole and savoring the feeling of your tight warmness on his long length. He looked absolutely exquisite above you, and you lost yourself in the ethereal picture. Maybe you were in love, or maybe he really was just an empyrean beauty; you took in the sight of his focussed iceberg blue eyes, the cute flush spreading along his pale cheeks and bare chest, how he bit his pink lips to muffle his needy grunts and moans. 
Then, you mewled and convulsed around him, your walls spasming and contracting as you came undone, reaching the precipice of your pleasure. That made him fall off the edge— you had tensed all over- all over, and Jonathan couldn’t help how his hips stuttered, knees buckled, cock twitched; he only gave one last, powerful thrust into you before spilling himself inside of you. He painted your soft walls white, and you felt that familiar heat spreading within you; you welcomed it completely, and wanted such warmth to be there forever. 
You milked him for every last drop, cunt like a vice grip, and Jonathan gave you another wet kiss, this time on your lips, and your hands wrapped around his neck, allowing you to kiss him back. Your brows knitted at the sour taste of yourself on his lips, but it just made everything feel so real— Jonathan and you had “made love”. It was a phrase you always wrinkled your nose at, feeling uncomfortable and juvenile at the intimacy it entailed, but now you understood it completely. 
“I love you,” you repeated for what felt like the hundredth time, unable to say anything else that conveyed what you felt for him. 
Honestly, you weren’t sure anything could accurately do so— you felt infinitely about him, your love touching all edges of your mind, heart and soul, filling you completely. You supposed you felt about Jonathan how the sun felt about the moon— without one, there could not be the other. 
“I love you-- too,” he responded, pausing in the middle at the aftershocks of your orgasm, which had caused you to tighten around his softening, sensitive cock for a second. 
You peered deep into his baby-blue eyes, watching the utter love that coloured them; it was like submerging yourself in a great blue ocean, except you didn’t want to come out, because you knew you wouldn’t drown in those eyes. No, you knew Jonathan would always be there to pull you out. 
Speaking of pulling out… Jonathan slipped himself out of you softly, careful not to agitate that first stretch any more than necessary, before collapsing back into your arms. The two of you tangled yourselves in a messy flurry of limbs on his cushy mattress, sweaty and breathy, something that should’ve been terribly uncomfortable but just wasn’t— you swore you could fall asleep anywhere, no matter your own state or the circumstance, as long as you were with him. 
Blearily, both your eyes began to droop, until you gave into the familiar presence of deep, dark sleep. It was a dreamless sleep for you, but you had an ever present comfort at his weight on yours, something you could feel even in unconsciousness. 
Hours later, in a brisk, shuddering early-morning that you felt all over due to Jonathan’s unruly habit of opening his window at the peak of the day’s hottest weather and forgetting to close it before cold nightfall fell, you awoke to Jonathan watching you carefully, so close you could feel his warm exhales of breath on your cheek. 
There was no goodmorning or anything like that, just pure, uninhibited being, reveling in the space you two occupied together. Like you two were the only things left in the world. 
When Jonathan noticed you woke up, he shifted, presumably to extract himself from your grip. You stopped him, though, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and bringing him closer to you.
“What did it feel like?” you asked instead, for the last time. You brushed your fingers over his scar, and, knowing exactly what you were asking, this time Jonathan doesn’t flinch away. This time, he leans into your touch: it doesn’t burn, not anymore, and he wants your tenderness to swallow him whole. 
You didn’t mean what it actually felt like, of course. You meant, what were you thinking? What have you done, and what will you do to yourself? You meant, I love you.
“It felt like,” falling; not everything feels like something else; I raised my arms and the air took me and that was it-- “it felt like… giving in. Letting my desperation find its purpose. It felt like I’d reached a point of peace… gained clarity after a long stretching, wounded moment came to an end. It felt like becoming something only meant to be talked about in past tense.”
You don’t say anything to that; you know he doesn’t want you to. There’s no need for you to hush or plead or make better, you just need to listen, and love him. He knows you accept him for everything he is, all his flaws and his strengths; he knows your love is all accepting- it veers on saintly. 
At your silence, he melts into your arms and you can finally relax; there is an admission in the action, a release, an acknowledgement -- is suffering in silence not also accompanied by the overwhelming desire to be found? -- you have found him, at last, and you will never, ever let go.
You take it too far, just once. Only once. And you let him go just once, only once; never again. 
723 notes · View notes
moraxsthrone · 11 months
Note
Um, hello. I'm a little nervous to make this request, so please forgive me if I messed up.
May I request headcanons of Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Thoma and Zhongli 's girlfriend bringing them homemade lunch while their working and when asked who she's looking for, she happily says "My handsome husband, the one and only (boy's name), of course!" while the boys are within earshot?
I just wanna see these boys acting lovestruck and blushy
//peeks out from the hole of chaos that is my life.
omg nonnie, i'm so sorry it's taken me so long to answer this. i wonder if you'll even see it. 🥺 if anyone did anything wrong here, it's me.
— how he reacts when you bring him homemade lunch at work
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— pairings — diluc, itto, kaeya, thoma, zhongli, and (bonus) tighnari x f!reader
— notes — sfw. fluff. diluc's is a drabble //help. his just came to me so vividly. the rest are headcanons, as requested.
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— diluc —
your wine tycoon husband is fetching a couple of barrels from the storage area in the back of angel’s share when he hears your voice. he wonders why you’re here so early in the afternoon (you’re not kaeya after all), but a small smile still manages to grace his face as charles asks if he can get you a drink. diluc is just about to round the corner when he hears you answer cheerily, “no, thank you. i’m just here to bring lunch to my handsome husband, diluc! i made him his favorite and even threw in some grape juice from the winery!” the tavern owner stops dead in his tracks, his heart skipping a million beats. it’s adorable, really. not only is he easily flustered, but his fair skin is so quick to show even the slightest color. he knows he’s flushed a bright red from his neck to his ears. he’s too embarrassed to let his employee see him like this so he panics and this grown ass man HIDES BEHIND A FUCKING WINE BARREL!
he can almost hear the shit-eating grin on charles’s face when he points towards the back and tells you where you can find your “handsome husband, diluc”. he should dock his pay for that. now what does he do? just as you clear the bar area, you see the top of a crimson ponytail behind a barrel in the dim corridor. “diluc? is that you, baby?” the jig is up; there’s no point trying to hide anymore so he stands up slowly. “why were you crouched behind that wine barrel?” you press, and he clears his throat. “i was…uhhh…i dropped…something,” he stammers, doing his best to preserve his signature stoicism. but as you get closer you see the deep red blush that rivals the natural color of his hair. “wait…are you blushing?” “no.” “you’re blushing!” laughing, you start to touch his face, but he quickly covers it with both his hands, muffling his voice when he groans, “why must you always tease me like this?” “because you’re so cute when you blush,” you say, still giggling while trying to pry his hands away. he can hear charles wheezing behind the bar. “stop! go away, woman! you’re making it worse!”
— itto — 
who are we kidding? itto doesn’t work.
but let’s assume he’s doing an odd job and one of his gang members spots you as you’re approaching (not knowing you're his boss's wife) and tells you it’s too dangerous to pass through the area.
itto is out of eyeshot, but your voice is music to his ears when he hears you refer to him as your husband. 
“yeah! i made him his favorite and brought enough for everyone!”
his face lights up with a big, stupid grin bc that is easily one of the nicest things anyone has done for his gang.
just as akira is taking some of the bags you’ve been carrying by yourself, your big oni husband rounds the corner and is headed right for you with his pink-dusted cheeks.
picks you up into a hug and gives you a big, long, close-lipped kiss with unshed tears wetting his eyelashes.
when shinobu ribs him for crying, he denies it.
“i- i’m not crying, shinobu! my uhh…my allergies are acting up again!”
— kaeya — 
it means the whole fucking world to him?
he never thought he’d have someone in his life who would go out of their way to bring him lunch that THEY MADE JUST FOR HIM. 
he may not seem like it, but kaeya loooooves being domestic with you.
he smirks and teases you when you fuss over him, but he EATS THAT SHIT UP.
please do little things like this for him? it makes him feel so cared for, something he feels like he’s missed out on for most of his life.
ever the romantic, the captain sweeps you up into his arms bridal-style, making you squeal and laugh right in front of all his subordinates. 
kaeya makes YOU blush, not the other way around, okay?
— thoma — 
he’s usually the one waiting on others hand and foot so when you do something so domestic and thoughtful for him, his pretty green eyes positively SPARKLE. 
the brightest smile spreads across his face along with the swath of pink that stretches from one cheek to the other.
immediately wants to make something for you too. 
he insists! 
so you sit and watch him whip something up for you in the kamisato kitchen, your chin resting in your palms wondering how you got so lucky to marry the sweetest man in all of teyvat.
he packs both your lunches and leads you outside and finds the prettiest sakura tree to sit beneath while you enjoy your meals together. 
— zhongli — 
he’s touched, but it takes a lot more than bringing him food or referring to him as your husband to fluster the former archon.
if anything, he barely suppresses a smirk - satisfied with the pride in your voice when you call him “husband”.
he stands from his desk and steps out of his office to greet you in the funeral parlor’s lobby, shoulders back and head held high because he’s quietly proud of you too.
“my darling love…” he starts, seeing the delicious meal that he could smell from his office. “you truly shouldn’t have…”
“but i wanted to,” you say shyly as he leans in to leave a quick peck on your cheek.
“will you be joining me?” he asks, hopeful.
“oh, this is just for you, dear. i didn’t bring any for myself. i thought you might be too busy...”
“then i’ll share with you, my love,” he insists, offering you his arm, which you take with a smile and let him lead you back to his office.
— tighnari (bonus) — 
a handful of forest rangers are standing on the dock near tighnari’s hut when you flash them a quick smile before heading past them towards your husband’s office.
one of them stops you. “ma’am, you can’t just walk into the chief officer’s-”
you laugh sweetly and wave him off. “i can do a lot more than you think i can…”
it is at that moment that the rangers stiffen as their officer steps out with a stern expression on his face.
his multi-colored eyes are fixed and serious, but as a rosy heat rises to his pale cheeks you swear you hear a snicker from his group of subordinates.
you walk up to where tighnari is holding one of the giant leaf flaps open in the doorway and give him a quick little peck on the cheek.
that sends the angry blush all the way to the insides of his perked ears.
he dismisses the rangers as you walk past him and into his office like it’s your second home.
his watchful eyes follow his rangers as they disperse before he lowers the leaf flap to join you within.
he sniffs at the air. “wait. did you…?”
you simply nod with a pleased smile as you set the frond-wrapped box down on his desk. you’d made his favorite: forest watcher’s choice, rife with various (non-poisonous) mushrooms that you know he finds most delicious.
nari rounds his desk to join you and puts a gloved hand on the small of your back as he leans in and kisses your temple, ear twitching and tail wisping behind him.
“thank you, love. you’re too good to me,” he muses.
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angelltheninth · 1 year
Note
TWST dorm leaders where Reader and them aren't aware everyone else thinks they're dating
Anon I love the "didn't know they were dating" trope. It's so funny to think about and has some pining/angst potential too.
Pairing: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, developing relationship, confessions, feelings realization, misunderstandings, courting
A/N: When I see this trope I know I'm gonna want to punch the screen but also laugh my ass off.
Riddle knows there's something odd going on. He sees and hears the other students glancing at the two of you and whispering among themselves. Frankly it's a little annoying to him that they're talking behind his back. It's not until he overhears them talking about him inviting you to tea parties often that he realized how that might have looked to an outsider. If the other students seem to think that there's something going on already then he might as well go ahead and try his luck at the next tea party.
Leona loves having you around really. Having you sing his praises, stroking his ego, flashing him those sunshine smiles that do odd things to his heart and mind. It took him a long time to realize that those feelings were, and once he did he was determined to win your affections over the right way. He might not apply himself fully when it comes to teste and studying but he will for sure fine a way to sweep you off your feet.
Azul is aware of your feelings for him right away but not of his for you. He saw you a fun plaything at first, not even realizing how fond he's growing of you despite it being obvious to his Housemates. He tried to deny his feelings for a while only to fail miserably when he thought you might be stolen away by another student. He suspects that this is just a ploy by Jade and Floyd. Damn them it worked. The next thing he knew he was embracing you, pulling you away to privacy and set to confirm what he already knew with a kiss: the two of you were meant for each other.
Kalim is much too nice to realize that his actions were flirtatious in nature. He loved hanging out with you, his arm around your shoulder, joking with you and complimenting you all the time. He did start noticing the way you blush around him though and it made him re-examine a few of your interactions with him as opposed to your other friends. He couldn't sleep all night when he did the same for himself as well and realized how blind he was being this whole time. He asked you to meet him in the gardens the next morning to straighten things out with you. When he met you with a full bouquet of flowers you suspected what he was going to ask. The answer was yes of course, you would love to be an official couple.
Vil was never too concerned with what people talked about, the rumors they spread, he knew the truth and it was all that was important. Or was it? When he heard that there were rumors going around that the two of you were a couple it have him pause. He wasn't sure what to make of that, you were amazing, smart, beautiful, but did you really like him like that? Did he give you reason to? Did he give you reason not to? He was determined to find out either way, and hopefully by the end of it, win your affections for real.
Idia and you exchange a lot of texts and video calls with each other, more than with anyone else really. It's not unusual that people started talking when you spend so much time in each others company. Neither of you were aware of just how affectionate and flirty you were acting over text until it was pointed out to both of you. His next few texts are very careful, testing the waters, trying to see if there is actually something more between you two. It's not working. When he gets frustrated he decided that it would be best to confirm it face to face. He could see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice, in the way your hands shook when you held his, he knew you liked him, and he liked you as well.
Malleus doesn't even think about it when the two of you walk hand in hand, or when he's reading a book with his head in your lap. He's touch starved and you provide that touch and affections and smiles, he loves that. But he didn't realize how much he truly loved you until it was time for the dance. He knew he wanted to go with you, to see you laugh all evening, to feel you close to him, to feel your lips against his. He wanted to make what he'd been hearing whispers about all term a reality.
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actuallysaiyan · 1 month
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Don't It Make You Feel So Fine?(Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader x Suguru Geto)
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warnings: smut, drinking, unprotected sex, Satoru and Suguru are together, they are in their 20s, everyone lives AU, semi-public sex, threesome, creampie finish word count: 2.5k pairings: Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader x Suguru Geto summary: one night after work, you head to your local barcade. Once there, you keep catching the eyes of a certain black-haired/white-haired pair... a/n: for the wonderful Hela(@whatshernameis) HOPE YOU LOVE IT!
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The night is young and you’re itching to go out after work, It’s been a long week and all you want to do is go to the new barcade that opened up just last week. You’ve heard all your coworkers talking about it, It had made you feel so excited considering it’s been so long since you’ve gone out and done anything for yourself.
So after a quick dinner and a shower to prep yourself, you do your makeup and change to something cute but cozy and you head out for a night of fun.
You make your way down the stairs into the basement barcade. The vibes are wonderful already. A steady stream of alternative rock and synthpop playing in the background, neon lights decorating the scene, and lots of sounds of people laughing and having fun with the arcade and pinball machines. You smiled as you realized just how much fun you were about to have.
At the bar, you notice two men around your age. One of them with striking white hair and he’s wearing sunglasses. You find it odd that he’d be wearing sunglasses in such a dark bar, but maybe he likes to keep his sight private that way. The other, the one that smiles at you, has long black hair that he keeps up in a bun. Your eyes meet once again before the bartender takes your attention and you order a drink.
You look around the room, noticing just how big it is down here. Lots of arcade machines, and pinball machines…there’s an air hockey table that sits near two billiard tables. You’re so enticed by everything. First, you make your way towards one of the brightly lit arcade machines and you pop in a token.
The lights and the sounds pull you in. You’re having fun all by yourself, but out of the corner of your eye, you notice the white-haired man and black-haired man. They are a presence all on their own. Just a package deal, you thought to yourself. You’re soon alerted by the game that you are, in fact, losing because you’re so into the two men who passed by.
With a sigh, you down your drink and you turn towards another game to start playing. Despite this, you are so intrigued by the two men. They seem to be so close together, whispering things in each other’s ear. You wonder if maybe they are a couple. You begin to think how attractive they are and that there is no way they are actually interested in someone like you.
After a few more games, you head back to the bar for another drink. You smirk when you notice the pair once again. The dark-haired one is looking right at you as you sit on a stool a few seats away from them. The white-haired one smirks and then leans in to whisper in the other’s ear. Your heart races at the possibility of them talking about you.
Once you order your drink, you make your way over to the dance machine. There’s a gang of girls there that welcome you kindly to join them on the dance machine. You get to know them as you all take turns dancing. You end up being the most coordinated. Out of the corner of your eye, you keep noticing your pair of men watching you.
“Hey, I think those guys are watching us.” One of the girls points out. “They’ve been watching for a bit,” The other girl points out, then she nudges you. “They are cute, huh?”
You nod your head, trying not to let on that you’re extremely attracted to the pair. You and the girls all play a little longer until they decide to head upstairs for a little air. You part ways with them, promising to keep in touch as you all exchange contact details and social media handles.
Back to the bar you go, and this time you sit even closer to the pair. You’re pretending not to notice them, looking around the bar. But they’ve got their eyes on you and they are almost ready to pounce. The white-haired one smirks at you before approaching you and sitting right next to you. You notice he’s leaning closer to you.
“Havin’ fun?” He whispers in your ear. You shudder softly, “Uh yeah I suppose so. You?” Gojo smirks, “Oh I am. I can’t help but notice you. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
This makes you blush. The bartender puts your drink down in front of you and just before you’re going to pay, Gojo turns to the bartender.
“Put it on my tab.”
The bartender nods and heads to the next patron. You blush even more and look down at your drink. What makes you so special that such a handsome man would buy your drink for you?”
“You didn’t need to do that,” you say. Gojo shrugs, “Sure, but I wanted to…besides, you see that guy over there.” He points to Suguru. “That’s my boyfriend and he thinks you’re hot.”
This leaves you speechless. Gojo smirks at your reaction. So he leans in and wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer. You can smell the sugary fruitiness on his breath. You wonder if he’s even drinking alcohol,
“He thinks you’re hot, and so do I. Wanna have some fun with us?” He asks, and you look at him. You can see his eyes peering over his glasses. “O-okay! Do you uhm…have anything in mind?”
This makes Gojo chuckle darkly. He takes your hand and leads you over to Suguru. He introduces you to the dark-haired man, who is a bit more mild-mannered than his white-haired counterpart and is still very excited to have you around.
“Sorry, sometimes my boyfriend gets these ideas in his mind. He thinks he’s got to act on all of them.” You shake your head and laugh, “No, it’s okay, Suguru. I’m not mad.”
The three of you find a table to sit at and listen to the music. You begin to get to know each other a bit more, just talking about yourselves. You find out that they are both teachers at a high school nearby; it’s the religious one or something along those lines. But these two certainly don’t look religious.
“It’s just a gig. We went to that school when we were younger,” Suguru explains. Satoru smirks, “Yeah…it’s where we met.”
There’s something about this that seems like Gojo is reminiscing on something you’re not privy to. Then Suguru senses you’re discomfort and he scoots a little closer. He talks a little bit about how he and Gojo met, and he tells you a little funny story about them in their younger days.
The three of you continue talking, and the more you get to know these two, the more you like them. Gojo is flirty and wild, but Suguru keeps him more tame. Suguru still holds his own charm, which draws you into both of them as a pair,
After a few more drinks, you notice that Satoru seems antsy now. He gives Suguru a look, and the dark-haired man smirks and nods. Satoru leans in closer and wraps his arm around you again. When you feel his warm breath on your skin, you shudder softly.
“This place used to do laser tag. Want to see the old arena for it?” He asks you, his hand massaging your shoulder. Geto looks over at you and he smiles sweetly, trying to play the innocent card. “It’s really cool.”
You shrug your shoulders, but you eventually give in after Satoru begs you. The two men help you out of the booth and they guide you towards a dark corner of the building. You’re beginning to wonder how big this place is. Once they slide the doors open, you gasp as you see what they are talking about.
“We can still access the blacklights too,” Geto boasts, flipping one of the switches. “Wow, this is cool.”
Both men share a knowing glance, and they lead you inside the arena. There’s a smoke machine going off in the corner too, adding to the atmosphere. They both take your hand and guide you around, showing you the empty space of the abandoned laser tag arena.
Soon, Gojo is running around, giggling like a little kid. Geto tries to calm him down, but Gojo’s giggling is infectious. Both men leave you in a corner, giggling and laughing to themselves. The fact that it’s still kind of dark in here makes your heart race.
“Boo,” Gojo whispers in your ear before he pulls you into his arms.
You can’t even say anything because he’s pressing his lips to yours. He has to dip down a little from his height, but he’s good to hold you so close. You gasp in the kiss when you feel Suguru behind you. His large hands are cupping your breasts through your shirt, kneading and massaging them.
“You like us, right?” Suguru asks you, and you’re so quick to nod. Satoru laughs, “I thought so.”
Within seconds, they’ve got your shirt pushed up and your tits spilling out of your bra. Suguru pushes your tits together, and Gojo leans in to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You let out a whine, your legs growing weaker as the two men work together to bring you pleasure.
“Satoru,” “Hnn? What is it, Sugu?”
Suguru then pushes his hand down your pants, smirking to himself when he feels just wet your panties are already. They are clinging to your folds, and it gets even more wet as he begins to toy with your swollen clit.
“She’s wet. She’s been wanting this.” Suguru ribbed. Satoru laughs, “Oh fuck yeah…”
You let out the cutest and most pathetic whines as Suguru continues to toy with your clothed pussy. Satoru kisses you hungrily again before he presses himself up against you. This ends up pinning you to Suguru, who in turn is pinned against the wall.
“What if we have even more fun, huh?” Satoru teases, “P-please…” you manage to breathe out.
Suguru and Satoru lock eyes and they smirk. It takes them no time to have you mostly undressed. Then you watch as Satoru backs away to pull his pants down past his ass. Suguru keeps a steady hold on you, hooking your knees under his arms and spreading you out for Satoru.
“Oh, she really is wet…”
You moan as you feel Gojo’s cock rubbing up and down your wet slit, making more of your juices dribble out. You barely have time to react before the head of his cock is pressing into your hole. His eyes screw shut as he pushes into you. He’s panting and moaning, sounding even more aroused than you are.
“Fuck she’s so tight,” Gojo hisses through gritted teeth. Geto smirks, “Yeah? Think maybe…we both could fit in there?”
You whine at the mere thought of them occupying your pussy. You’re not sure it would fit, but you’re not even mad at the idea. Satoru thrusts up into you a few times, making you cling to him. Suguru has his steady hold on you, keeping your legs open.
“F-fuck, I don’t know. I feel like I could blow my load already…” “Then pull out! It’s my turn!” Suguru commands.
Gojo considers it as he continues to fuck you, moaning and grunting. He can’t shut up about how good your pussy feels wrapped around his cock. Slowly, he pulls out. Then you get passed over to Gojo who holds you up just like Geto had been.
Your eyes widen as you watch the dark-haired man pull his pants down as well. He’s a bit sweeter with you, a little more patient than his boyfriend. His thumb brushes over your clit a few times, making you whimper. He takes his time to push his cock into you, and you watch as his face scrunches up in pleasure just as Satoru’s had.
“Oh you were right, ‘toru.” Satoru snickers, “Told you.”
And with that, Suguru starts a steady pace. Gojo holds onto you. One of his hands soothes down one of your thighs, then back up again. He repeats this motion before he settles on rubbing your clit.
The head of Suguru’s cock keeps bumping up against your sweet spot, making you see blinding flashes of white. Your head falls back against Gojo’s shoulder, and he laughs at your reaction.
“Already fucked her stupid, huh?” Suguru grunts, “She’s milking me,”
Your little walls begin to clench and pulse around him. You feel the electrifying shocks beginning to move up your spine as the telltale signs of your orgasm become even more apparent. You try to warn them, but all that comes out are sweet, pathetic moans.
Gojo’s goading you on, practically begging you to cum. Something about this makes him want to see you make Suguru fall off the edge first. Thrust after thrust, both you and Suguru begin to fall deeper into the pit of ecstasy and bliss.
“Make him cum, pretty girl,” Satoru demands, and you whine.
The coil snaps and you cry out. Satoru slaps his hand over your mouth, not wanting to draw too much attention to your little trio. Suguru’s hips stutter as the fluttering of your walls pulls him over the edge along with you.
He moans that he’s cumming, which makes Satoru smirk. This is exactly what the white-haired man was trying to orchestrate this entire time. Before long, you feel the pulsing and throbbing of Suguru’s cock as he shoots his load deep inside of you. Before he’s even done riding out his high, Satoru pushes him aside and he impales you onto his cock.
“Lemme cum too,” Gojo murmurs against your skin as he fucks himself into you. “So close already…it’s so hot to watch my boyfriend to fuck you.”
His hips thrust faster and harder, driving himself further into your still-fluttering cunt. His moans become louder and his voice is shakier as the pleasure builds deep inside of him. He’s panting and grunting like an animal in heat.
“Such a good pussy,” Gojo moans into your ear. “Gonna make a mess inside your pussy, that okay with you pretty girl?”
You can only moan and nod at this point. You’ve been at the highest point of ecstasy for a while now, barely clinging to the reality of the situation. You then feel the throbbing of his cock, and Gojo is loud as he cums deep inside of you. You barely make out Suguru’s hand on Gojo’s mouth.
Slowly, he helps you back to your feet. You feel their mixed juices beginning to drip down your thigh, Suguru’s hands are on you as he helps you get dressed. You whine when you feel Satoru slap your pussy through your fully drenched panties.
And the three of you make your way towards the exit. Suguru makes sure to turn off the blacklights and smoke machine. Satoru keeps his arm wrapped around you, holding you close.
“So…back to mine for round two?” He asks, tilting his sunglasses down to allow you to see his eyes better.
How could you say no?
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