#guy at work gave me his number a week or two ago

[iammykink]

Committing acts of aromanticism

#guy at work gave me his number a week or two ago #i didnt text him. obviously. havent talked to him since(he isnt in my department and always went out of his way to talk to me) #JUST learned yesterday that hes one of the big managers nephews #said big manager is also inlaws and super close buddies with our store director #i think i dodged a bullet there LMAO #mine #aromantic

[steddiealltheway]

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays :) This is way longer than I thought it would be, but it's been a while since I've written, so I think I needed it. I hope you all have a wonderful end to your year <3

Steve thought it was fate when he reached into Dustin’s old Santa hat and picked up a crumpled piece of paper with Eddie’s name scribbled on it. He had a gift stored away for Eddie that he bought weeks ago, and he was hoping there would be some way to get it to him without making it a big deal or something. Miraculously, the tiny slip of paper gave him that chance.

Now, two weeks later, Steve feels like his nerves are on fire as everyone gathers around in his living room, waiting to receive their gifts.

He goes off to the guest bedroom where the party had dropped off their gifts under the bed with the promise of not peaking - per Steve's request. Mike complained that the system was a little bit much, and Steve couldn’t argue with him. He just didn’t want to give away that he was Eddie’s secret Santa.

And now that he has pulled all the gifts out from under the bed, his stomach churns and his heart races. He just hopes his gift doesn’t cross a line or bring up unwanted memories, especially since he and Eddie aren’t exactly best friends.

Well, okay, they’re close. Considering the number of times Dustin has insisted they all hang out now that they’ve all been trauma-bonded, Steve has spent a lot of time with Eddie. But he hasn’t gotten a lot of alone time with him.

Sure, there have been a few times when Eddie has stopped by work, but Robin was always close by - not that Steve minded at all, except he got tired of the looks she would give him after Eddie left as if she was expecting Steve to say something. He doesn’t know what exactly he would say, but he will admit that it was always sad watching Eddie go. Maybe he should tell Robin he wishes he could stay a little longer, maybe even after hours.

The thought reminds him of the one moment they spent alone that Steve can't help but recall often. Even his present to Eddie is based around that moment which resulted in him purchasing something definitely higher than the price limit, but none of the kids would know that so it’s fine.

There’s a light knock on the door behind him, and Steve turns around. “Hey,” Eddie says with a small smile. “Everything okay?”

Steve smiles back, willing his heartbeat to slow down a bit. “Yeah, just trying to figure out how to get them all at once.”

“Let me help,” Eddie says, already bending over to grab half the stack that Steve had pushed out from under the bed. “You don’t happen to have a Santa suit do you?”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “No?”

“Damn. Next year, okay? And I want to be Santa.”

The corner of Steve’s lip quirks up and Eddie's eyes light up, looking awfully proud of himself. The two hold the gaze for a few moments longer than they should, but it’s not like that's new to them.

“Guys! What’s the holdup?!” Dustin yells.

Steve sighs and offers Eddie a now irritated smile before leading the way to the living room, glancing down at the names on each present before handing them out. He and Eddie finish around the same time, and Steve notices there are two clear spots for them in the small circle on either side of Dustin. He almost makes a snarky comment to Dustin, but he holds his tongue, knowing Max and El will shoot them irritated glares if they start bickering.

"El, why don't you go first?" Steve suggests as he sits down, not giving the rest of the kids a chance to argue about it. After all, no one is going to protest after all that El did for them.

El smiles and carefully opens her gift, but Steve spaces out a bit, lost in thought about his gift and questioning if it will be an appropriate thing to bring up in front of the kids. Eddie had shared the moment only with Steve and even hesitated in doing so, so maybe he doesn't want it to be broadcast to the kids. Shit.

Steve snaps back to reality when El knee-scoots over to Dustin, pulling him into a tight hug and thanking him for her present. Dustin flushes an interesting shade of red that Steve is definitely going to bring up later when he himself isn't panicking. For now, he moves the game along. "Alright, Dustin gets to open his gift now since he was the Secret Santa," Steve announces, nervously glancing at Eddie, hoping the excited look doesn't mean the gift is from him. He's not sure if he's ready for Eddie to open his gift yet.

Luckily, the gift is from Lucas, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. But as the game continues and more people unwrap their gifts, Steve finds himself getting a bit impatient as he waits for someone to get their gift from Eddie. It's only when Max is last to open her gift that Steve realizes that he and Eddie are the only two remaining which means...

"No way," Eddie says with a big grin. "We're the only two who got each other."

Steve slowly looks down at the gift in his hand, neatly wrapped with a beautifully done bow that seems so unlike Eddie who always seems to be in a rush, doing everything with an almost frantic energy that Steve kind of adores. He wonders what he must've been like sitting still, carefully folding each curve of newspaper and taping it all together before neatly tying the red ribbon around the box into a beautiful bow. "You did this?" Steve can't help but ask, hoping he didn't just stick his foot in his mouth.

"Yeah," Eddie says somewhat bashfully as he pulls his hair in front of his face. "You do the honors." Eddie gestures to Steve's present and nervously rambles, "It isn't much really..."

Steve carefully undoes each fold, seeing the care Eddie took in wrapping a small box that Steve pulls the lid off of. He stares down at a small metal-looking thing and picks it up off the paper it's on top of. He presses it and startles a bit as it buzzes.

"A hand buzzer," Dustin laughs in disbelief.

"Maybe you two need to hang out more," El suggests innocently.

Eddie clears his throat. "There's a note in there, too, but you don't have to read it out loud in front of the kids or anything."

Steve keeps ahold of the little buzzer and picks up the note, staring at a few numbers in confusion before following an arrow that elaborates 24/7 Walkie Channel - especially at night. Steve flushes a bit red at the joke, but as he reads further, he realizes it's not a joke at all. In fact, he knows exactly what this is referring to.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie walks up to the counter of Family Video and raps his knuckles on the counter. "Now tell me, what exactly is behind that restricted section with the red curtains?"

Steve rubs his temples and gives Eddie an unimpressed look. "You know exactly what's behind there."

"Well, maybe I want to hear it from my favorite employee. After all, you're supposed to help me with all my needs."

"Alright," Robin announces loudly, "I'm taking my break."

Steve hears the break room door shut behind him, and he drops his head in his hands with a slight groan.

"That embarrassed, Harrington? I thought you were like the expert here. Especially since Robin isn't allowed back there, but..." Eddie trails off but suddenly his voice gets much closer yet softer. "Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Sometimes I push too far without realizing and-"

Steve cuts him off with a short wave of his hand. "It's not that. You're fine really. Just didn't really sleep last night."

"Company or..." Eddie goes for a joke to lighten the second half of what he's implying.

Steve sighs and glances up at him. "It the 'or' option."

Eddie gives him a sympathetic look and glances around at the empty store before leaning on the counter, right into Steve's space, but it's comforting rather than intrusive. Eddie softly says, "I get it, man. The night terrors are... they're intense. I still see Chrissy when she..." He looks away, swallows hard, and takes a deep breath. "I get it."

Steve glances up and sees a matching haunted look in Eddie's eyes that Steve catches in the mirror from time to time. "It's harder late at night. I get this urge to reach out to everyone and make sure they're okay and..." Steve sighs and lowers his voice, "still alive." He shudders slightly and laughs humorlessly, "But it's not like I can just call everyone's house at night and wake up them and their family. I usually just wait for the urge to pass but it's harder for me with some people." Steve swallows hard, knowing what Eddie will ask next.

"Like who?"

Steve glances up at Eddie and says, "Robin of course because she's my best friend. Max is tough too because of how close she was to dying and you just never know if that thing will come back or not."

"He's gone for good this time. You know what Owens said," Eddie presses gently.

"Yeah, but I've heard it before," Steve argues. But he can't deny that things definitely feel more final now. Like maybe they're finally over. Still, he can't just let his guard down on the off chance that his gut isn't right for once.

Eddie shifts and nudges Steve's elbow with his own. "Anyone else though?"

Steve holds Eddie's gaze for a moment, and he sees the exact moment Eddie knows exactly what he's thinking as the memories of Eddie's lifeless body in Steve's arms flood in his head. "You were... gone there for a little while. And sometimes I wake up, and I think that you didn't make it. That the nightmare I keep having is actually reality."

Eddie gives him a pained look and places his hand over Steve's. "You can call me at any time. Day or night. I'll try my best to answer, especially at night."

"Eddie, I don't want to make you lose sleep any more than you already are."

"But I'm probably already awake. And I don't care if I lose sleep for you, okay?"

Steve glances up at him and flushes a bit as his eyes flicker down to Eddie's lips. For a moment, he thinks he might understand what Robin's looks mean, but he glances away before he can truly think about it. "That's not the only problem though," Steve confesses quietly.

Eddie just squeezes his hand, waiting for him to elaborate.

With a deep breath, Steve hooks his thumb on top of Eddie's pinky and squeezes back for some support. "I hate speaking in that empty house. My voice seems to echo, and it makes me feel more alone than I already am. And sometimes it feels impossible to speak about things. Like my voice doesn't work or something. I don't know."

"I get it," Eddie says simply, squeezing his hand again. "But really, if you ever need to call or stop by or anything. I'll be there." Steve holds Eddie's gaze, thinking maybe the upcoming night won't be so bad.

Before Steve can really say anything else, the bell on the front door dings loudly and he and Eddie practically jump apart. The customer doesn't even so much as glance at them, but they both still keep their distance, recognizing that the moment is over.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve stares at the little list in the note.

One Buzz: Checking in. I will buzz back so you know I'm okay. Two Buzzes: If you need to hear my voice. I will respond over the walkie and talk for as long as you like. Buzz multiple times, and I'll stop. And trust me, I will talk your ear off, so I won't get offended when you buzz. Three Buzzes: If you need me to call ever. Don't be afraid to use this one. Wayne is still working night shifts, so you're really no bother if you want to call first. But this way, I can be the one calling you so you don't have to worry about waking me up or anything. Really. The buzzes aren't too loud, so they shouldn't wake me up. Let me know if you want to add anything to this list. I have an identical list with my hand buzzer at home that I would be happy to add to at any time. Merry Christmas Love, Your Secret Santa

Steve stares at the note in his hand almost too stunned to speak. He doesn't think he's ever received a more thoughtful gift in his life. He pinches at his nose and tries to shut his emotions down a bit, and Eddie must catch on because he loudly announces, "My turn!"

Steve takes a deep breath, forgetting entirely about the gift he got Eddie. He watches as Eddie tears the wrapping paper off the small box then dramatically and very slowly opens it up with a big smile, knowing he has the kids' impatient attention practically in the palm of his hand. But when he finally sees the gift, his smile and whole act drop as a look of realization crosses over his face.

Steve's heart pounds in his chest.

Eddie slowly removes the little glass bottle filled with brown liquid and silently stares at it.

"What is that? Some type of fancy bourbon?" Max asks with a scoff.

Steve watches Eddie's eyes get slightly glassy, and he's quick to announce, "Something like that. But alright, we have to move on before your families start coming to pick you up. Was a snowball fight next on your cheesy list or something?"

Dustin is quick to defend the list the group came up with, but Steve is quicker in pushing them all toward the front door. "I'll be there in a bit. Eddie and I have to clean up."

The kids all rush to put on their coats and shoes, not wanting to be a part of any type of cleanup. Once they run outside, Steve closes the door and rushes back to the living room where Eddie's still staring at the bottle, a single tear going down his face. "You... you remembered... and you... you got... how?"

"Of course, I remembered," Steve says, thinking of what Eddie told him months ago.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve sighs and stuffs more things into a box from Eddie's closet. Dr. Owen's people had finally given the trailer the all-clear, so they were finally able to get the remainder of Eddie's and Wayne's things out of there. Of course, the kids had spent about an hour helping with the living room before taking a very very long break at Max's place. Steve assumes it will be lasting until the rest of the trailer is cleared out.

"They're great help, aren't they?" Eddie jokes as he brings another box into the room.

"Absolutely. Always willing to lend a hand. That is until they decide that the adults can just slave away for them."

"Someone needs to give them a lecture," Eddie sighs, pulling out a pile of clothes from his closet.

Steve scoots the box over and asks, "And why does that person always seem to be me? Especially when they don't listen to me."

"You're just so motherly," Eddie says with a big smile, dimples on full display.

Steve can't help but smile at the sight. And luckily he's staring his way when Eddie picks up another stack of clothes and suddenly hurdles something Steve's way. And even luckier, Steve's reflexes are quick, so he's able to easily catch the smaller glass bottle.

Eddie's eyes widen and he quickly grabs at the bottle, wrapping his hands around Steve's in the process. "Jesus H. Christ." Eddie's grip tightens as he stares at the bottle and breathes a sigh of relief, dropping his head to Steve's shoulder. "Have I ever told you that I'm so glad you're a jock?"

Steve snorts. "No, but whatever in this bottle must be important enough for you to admit it. So, tell me, what's in it? Alcohol? Some type of weird liquid drug?"

Eddie pulls back and looks away, still cradling the bottle and Steve's hands. "It's nothing. Just, hold it gently while I find another shirt to wrap it in."

Steve gently grasps the bottle and brings it closer, inspecting what it could be when he's hit with a bit of deja vu. He tests his suspicions and carefully removes the cap. "Eddie, why do you have an almost empty bottle of perfume in your closet?"

Eddie turns to him and asks, "Please, don't tell me you sprayed it."

"I didn't. The cap just gave it away."

Eddie quickly takes the bottle from his hand and puts the cap back on. "It's nothing. Like I said." He rolls it carefully in a t-shirt and places it in the box.

Steve slowly approaches and looks down at the box, frowning when he sees it start to blend in with the other pile of clothes in there. "I'll be right back," Steve announces before running out to his car. He opens the trunk and sighs, grabbing a shoe box and carefully placing his emergency date shoes in the corner of the trunk before taking the box inside.

When he gets back to the room, he reaches into the bigger box, fishes the shirt-wrapped perfume out, and places it gently into the shoe box before setting it aside. Steve glances up and notices Eddie staring at him. "Is that the emergency date shoe box?"

Steve is going to give the kids or Robin a lecture later about giving away people's personal information. "Yes," he admits.

"So, where are the shoes?"

"In my trunk," Steve says, moving onto Eddie closet to grab the last of the clothes.

Eddie pauses before asking, "You put your emergency date shoes the kids told me to never touch in your trunk to give me a box for my perfume?"

Steve shrugs. "Yeah." He stuffs everything down and closes the box, pushing it toward the door. But he's stopped by Eddie's hand on his arm.

"Why?" Eddie asks.

Steve straightens up and puts his hands on his hips. "It's clearly important to you, and I wasn't going to let you forget about it and accidentally throw it again when I'm not there to catch it."

Eddie holds his gaze for a few moments and Steve almost breaks the eye contact, not used to having Eddie's attention directly solely at him. But he feels like that will change in the future.

Eddie shifts and places a hand on Steve's back, leading him to where he placed the box. He picks it up and opens it, slowly unraveling the perfume and staring at it as if debating if he wants to share the story with Steve.

Steve just waits, not wanting to pressure him. Instead, he lets the moment play out.

Eddie breathes out, "It was my mom's."

It hits Steve all at once the implication of the phrase.

"She would wear it all the time. I remember she would put it on once in the morning, once in the afternoon, and once before going to bed. I told her it was silly to do that before bed, but she told me it was only silly if I let it be." Eddie smiles at the memory before growing distant in his expression. "When she got sick, she started forgetting the time more and more. So, I would remind her. And toward the end, I started putting it on her when she felt too weak to spray it."

Steve shifts and lightly rests his hand on Eddie's back as he continues, "I told my dad that she should be buried with it. That she would want to have it with her and wear it all the time." Eddie's voice cracks a bit and he clears his throat. "He told me that was silly."

Steve shifts closer to Eddie so their sides are pressing together, trying to give him physical support because he's unsure of what to say.

Eddie shakes his head and smiles sadly. "I kept it since then. And I used to spray it all the time, and god, the guys at school would make fun of me for smelling like girl's perfume, but I didn't care. But maybe I should've listened to them because now I only have this much left." He holds up the bottle to emphasize his point, the perfume so low that it seems to barely cover the bottom of the glass.

"One time, I brought it to a perfume store to ask what brand it was. I thought maybe I could save up and buy another one." Eddie shakes his head again. "But the lady accused me of stealing it. She said there was no way I would've been able to afford it in the first place. That there was no reason for me to even have it unless I was looking for a cheap buck to make."

Steve's grip on Eddie's back presses a little firmer as he feels anger and disgust toward the woman overflood his system. "That's fucked up."

"A bit, yeah," Eddie agrees. He glances at Steve, and Steve realizes how close they are, but he doesn't try to move away. "Do you want to smell it?"

Steve's brows furrow. "Eddie, there's barely any left in there, don't waste it on me."

Eddie smiles somewhat bashfully. "No, it's alright. I haven't used it in a long time, and after everything we went through, I need the reminder."

"If you're sure, then yes. I would love that."

Eddie holds out his wrist and lightly sprays the perfume. He uses his other wrist to rub it in before he holds it up to Steve's nose. Steve takes a deep breath and is suddenly taken back to a vague memory from a Christmas years and years ago when Steve was too young to succumb to the disappointment from his parents who were still around. But it's a happy memory nonetheless.

"What do you think?" Eddie asks.

Steve smiles softly. "I think your mom had great taste. And it smells really beautiful. I wish I could've met her."

"Me too," Eddie replies softly, staring at the bottle.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"My mom had the same one. Years ago it was gifted to her. I ended up finding the bottle in one of the drawers in her bathroom. It was still in the box, so it wasn't too difficult to find at the store," Steve admits. He holds out his hand and says, "Here. I have to show you something."

Eddie carefully places the perfume back in the box and takes Steve's hand, following him up the stairs and into his room. Steve regrettably lets go of Eddie's hand to pull out a box from under his own bed. He holds it up to Eddie who gasps, "Steve, this must have cost you a fortune."

Steve glances down at the five boxes of perfume and shrugs. "There was a Christmas sale. Plus, I was able to use my Harrington charm a bit."

Eddie grabs the box and carefully sets it on Steve's bed before quickly wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "Thank you. God, this is the best gift I've ever gotten."

Steve squeezes him tight. "Same with yours."

They remain in each other's arms for a few moments, not rushing the embrace or questioning how long they're allowed to linger. Only, when Steve starts pulling away, he starts questioning his next move. Because more than anything he wants to kiss Eddie.

The realization hits him hard. He knows exactly now what Robin's glances mean and what she's been expecting him to say. Of course, deep down he knew, but he just hadn't had to face it head-on yet. But here he is and... "Eddie," Steve says softly, lingering in his space.

"Steve," Eddie replies quietly, eyes flickering down to Steve's lips, already knowing what he means.

Steve takes a deep breath, feeling his heart pound in his chest as he asks, "Can I?"

"Hell yes," Eddie replies.

They both move together at the same time, meeting each other in a gentle kiss which they linger in. Steve moves away to breathe and shifts to cup Eddie's face with his hands and bring him in again. He kisses him with all he has, filled with the awe of the thoughtful gift he received, joy of the gift well received, and the overwhelming feeling that this is right.

Steve breaks the kiss with a smile and whispers, "Merry Christmas, Eddie."

"Merry Christmas, Steve," Eddie says breathlessly before kissing him again.

And it really is a merry Christmas.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #merry christmas #steddie christmas

[s-4pphics]

where we meet. (e.w.)

when ur a monsterfucker n its kinktober lol am i right guys

*silence*

…..

thank u 4 the pointers baby :3 ilysm @elliesbelle

wc;cw: 17.8k, baker!oc, demon!ellie, HEAVY ANGST [mentions underage drinking + alcoholism + drunk driving + car accidents + death], oc’s an eldest daughter… yeah, HORROR? [gore + animal death/mutilation? + vomit + idk scary shit like blood n stuff], SMUT!!!!![HEAVY DUBCON + sexual tension + ellie shape shifts LOL + her tongue is barbed and forked and long like a fruit rollup + blood drinking + fucking outside HAHA + splash of sadism + edging + tentacles WOOO THIS BITCH IS SHAKING THE TABLE!!! + pain kink + spit but venomous + lots of cum/squirting + anal/d!p + err restraint? + oral + crazy size kink + dirty talk + masturbation? + dumbification/mind break + dacryphilia + burning/marking

“Alright, my love! A dozen red velvet cupcakes, four slices of carrot cake, and ten brownies!” 

You handed two large brown bags filled with desserts over to your favorite regular, Roxanna, “I threw in two complementary cannolis, don’t tell Hattie, please!” You whispered. 

The older woman laughed, turning to depart with the sweet treats, “She ain’t getting a word outta me. Thank you, baby. See you soon.” 

“Have an amazing birthday! Try not to get too rowdy on that yacht, now!”

“Girl, I’m grown! If one of my guests show up without a bottle, they ain’t gettin’ on, point blank!” You both giggled. 

She blew you a kiss and scurried off, the small bell above the door ringing at her exit. You sighed and scurried to the back and into the kitchen, untying your apron and hanging it on the coat rack. 

“Now, Miss Hattie— “

“I know you ain’t tryna disrupt my craft right now. You know better!” The elderly woman had her gray hairs pinned back under her hair net, practically squatting near the counter as she perfected the icing job on the three-layered wedding cake, shrouded in gold and sparkly silver. Your heart grew fonder at the slight tremble in her hands as she piped sprouts of buttercream around the cake topper. 

Hattie, despite her stubbornness, was reason your… fresh start went so smoothly. Meeting her was a blessing in disguise; It was raining when you stumbled upon the old bakery she worked at years ago. You’d just moved as far as you could from your hometown, in desperate need of a job. She turned down your desperate pleads time and time again, that is until you showed up to the shop one last time, drenched in rain, with your homemade red velvet cake. 

She’d nearly cracked you with a broom herself when she saw you standing by the service stand, but you pleaded one last time, and left the foil wrapped dish on the register counter without another word. You’d piqued her interest. Just a smidge. 

You’d received a call from a random number — the owner of the shop— days later, offering you a position at the local bakery. 

As a dishwasher. 

Your victory didn’t last long, however. Turns out your boss was a thieving bastard, cutting all the employee's earnings by a third months after you were hired. You were shocked no one shoved a piping bag up his ass. 

Weeks later, you were out of a job. And so was Hattie. 

… Did she reluctantly ask you for tips on how you made your cake that moist as you two waited for the bus, hairnets still on? Absolutely. And you shared them on the ride back to her small home.

She swiftly became your support, your right-hand man, your newfound comfort only after a few months. You silently thank the universe for her everyday; You couldn’t imagine opening your spot without her with you, making sure to double — triple whatever shit pay her previous boss gave her. 

“C’mon, Roxie just picked up. We needa head out now,” Closing was always a hassle whenever Hattie was in the zone. The extra five minutes she often requested easily turned into an hour if not regulated; Bless her heart. 

She sighed and stretched, “Alright,” Reluctance in her tone. “You’re lucky my grandkids are coming to see me tomorrow!” She set her piping bag down and allowed you to stroll the wedding cake into the walk-in fridge. 

Hattie hardly ever asked for time off; You practically have to shove her out your bakery doors every Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, New Years! The only request — demand she’s ever made was no work on Halloween. She gave you explicit instructions when you hired her years ago: don’t call my phone during the day of evil! 

Her request threw you for a whirl at first. You assumed she was joking because what seventy-year-old woman still cares about Halloween and its lore? When she hadn’t laughed with you, however, you apologized and offered her three days off for the end of October. Everyone deserves to be with their family, regardless of time of year.

You wished you had someone to call during the cozy Fall. 

You threw yourself into work the second you got the chance. Opening your bakery a year ago was something you’d been working towards since you made your first batch of cupcakes at ten years old. You and your mother baked until your arms burned from kneading years after that, and the hobby swiftly became your down time. Your shop was small and crowded, but your name was printed on the door. 

You never thought you’d be able to own anything after the last decade of being locked up, after the accident you’d caused. 

That horrid day and its repercussions continues to loom over you like a dark cloud no matter where you go, filling your life with trails of dread that refuse to be washed away. You lost your family, some friends, a potential partner, and it was all because of one mindless decision during your reckless and dark teenage years. 

To put it bluntly, you never recovered. Everyday is a struggle, but you’ve managed to distract yourself with work. Your newfound friends hate that they never see you, but you beg them to accept that you're busy whenever you receive an invitation to dinner. 

Sadly, your accomplishments are not companions, and your heart is forever vacant. Nothing — or no one — will change that. 

No matter how many times you’ve tried to reach out to your loved ones, your calls go unanswered. You came to terms with the fact that they’ll always see you as the force that destroyed their unity — the disappointment, ages ago, but your heart still longs for their affection. 

You wake up and hope for their forgiveness everyday. 

“You comin’?”

Miss Hattie’s voice pulled you from your thoughts as you silently walked her to the door, her work bag in hand and ready to go. 

“No, ma’am. Still gotta check the inventory.” 

She sucked her teeth, “I coulda still been decorating— “

“Enough of that! Get on home!” You waved her off with a smile. 

“Uh huh,” She rolled her eyes and left with a nod, “See you next week!” 

You waved goodbye, shutting the door fully and flipping the open sign to close. 

You stretched your arms above your head, your achy shoulders and neck popping with stiffness. All you wanted was a fucking massage. 

You made your way back to the kitchen, clipboard in hand, marking off products that desperately needed refilling. What kind of bakery runs out of sugar? Sugar!

The bus ride home was nauseating; You need your own car desperately. 

You politely greeted your neighbors as they left the elevator before heading to your floor. The late afternoon sun was blooming through the hallway windows of your building. You unlocked your door, the waft of cool air from the open window in your living room brushing your skin. 

You tossed your bag off your shoulders, and it thudded to the floor, the overworked bones in your arms cracking when you stretched them up at the ceiling. 

The small ball of fur rubbing against your leg rejuvenated you in seconds. 

Your cat meowed happily when you bent down to plant kisses on her head. She followed you into the kitchen as you heated the kettle on the stove, hopping onto the counter to watch you work. 

“You know better. Get down,” your eyes squinted. 

She only tilted her head at you before sitting on the granite completely. You were too tired to move her. 

Whistles erupted from the small hole in the pot minutes later. You filled your mug to the brim with the soothing herbal tea your friends gave you before heading into your bedroom. 

You closed your blinds and undressed completely, plopping onto your blankets, taking sips from your mug as exhaustion and warmth flooded your body. 

The last thing you remember was your cat walking all over your back. 

THUD, THUD THUD THUDTHUD—

Your body shook awake at the pounding coming from the entrance of your home. Anxiety surged in your gut when the loud knocks against wood came to a sudden halt, only to start up again, even more frantic and aggressive. 

THUDTHUDTHUDTHUD—

You kicked your blankets off and sat up, your sweaty form clinging to the sheets as you searched around your room. Everything was where it was supposed to be, but your door was wide open. You never leave your door open. Did you shut your door when you came home from… 

Where were you before this? 

You called for your cat once, twice, three times, but she never came. Your apartment was always quiet, but this silence… It was weighted, a heavy press on your chest. 

You don’t remember how you got into your living room, but your toes were digging into the soft fluff of your rugs, attempting to sketch into the floor. Even the slightest movement felt like a fight against sludge. Like trekking through the rain in drenched clothes. The knocks didn’t cease, and was synced with the pounding in your ears. 

The walls were breathing. Why couldn’t you breathe? You swore you were going to throw up. 

The painted plaster moved in waves, your door plunging in and out of its frame, back and forth like a pendulum, but you couldn’t see behind it; Your toenails scratched harder into the floor. You couldn’t stop staring at the door. Every nerve in your brain was urging you to run, find a place to hide, but your body wouldn’t allow it. You simply stood, trapped in a cloud of distress. 

The banging stopped and you inhaled, air finally filling your lungs. The feel of fabric beneath your toes was no longer there: something softer than hardwood. Something squishy, something sticky and wet with hair. Your nails tore into it, oddly comforted by the sensation. 

All was quiet again, the familiar steadiness of your home calming your racing heart. 

Until a weak, wheezing exhale came from beneath you; You nearly missed it. Your heart rate skyrocketed when you peered at your feet. 

Your cat’s neck and stomach were sliced open, her small organs pouring out of the large slit in her body. Maggots and spiders were crawling all over her, your feet completely drenched in her blood and your nails plunged deep into her decomposing skin. The insects devouring your nearly dead pet rushed up your legs at an alarming rate, tearing into your thighs like desperate rats fiending for a meal. 

You woke up screaming. 

“Girl…”

“I don’t know why that happened! I’ve never had a dream like that before!” All the lights were on in your home, your kitty purring in your lap as you stroked her comfortingly. “I know it’s late but can you come over? I’m honestly… freaked out right now.” 

Your good friend, Celeste, exhaled over the line, “… Yeah,” she resigned. “Gimmie ten minutes. I love you. Just… try to relax.” 

You breathed when she told you to, your head bobbing like she could see you, “Okay. I love you too.” 

You almost didn’t want to hang up, but you’d already bothered your friend enough tonight. It’s been a while since you two hung out together; You hope she’s up for a sleepover! 

Your kitty nuzzled your chin affectionately. You hoped she knew you would never hurt her. 

“I’ve never been so horrified in my life!” You spoke around the sugary spoon in your mouth. “Dreams have never… felt like that for me. I swear, it doesn’t matter how deep my sleep paralysis is! I felt like I was really,” you quickly peered around the room for your kitty, praying she couldn’t hear you. “Stepping on her body! My poor angel.” 

Celeste shoveled more ice cream into her mouth, “Girl, that’s fucking crazy,” she assured, nodding towards your sleeping baby on the table. “Just remember that nothing actually happened. You love her and she loves you.” 

She continued after a heavy sigh. “But you know me. Dreams, nightmares, they’re all from something, and if it felt as real as you say…” Her brow arched at you. What the fuck is she talking about? 

Her eyes rolled in exasperation, “Isn’t your coworker, like… mad superstitious? Queen, but still. The devil’s working, girl.” 

You took a deep breath like she instructed a billion times over since she’s arrived. A smirk grew on her face. 

“Plus… it’s that time of year. ,” she stuck her tongue out and playfully grabbed her tits, “We gettin’ slutty. Gotta show out for Scorpio season. I made my own costume.” 

Your nerves calmed at the reminder of your friends' packed weekend. Since your only true time off was during the spooky season, they always encouraged you to join them in their reckless behavior, especially during your time off. You resigned from partying a long time ago, but did indulge in the lively atmosphere from time to time during the holiday season. 

“You’re right,” you sighed and placed your hands over the resting ones on her chest. 

“Thank you! Take that damn chef hat off!” she scolded. “No more business talk until— “

“Next week, I know,” you mocked, “And I don’t wear chef hats, thanks.” 

“Don’t give a shit about any of that. I’m getting pipe tomorrow night,” Celeste fell back on the sofa, giddily kicking her feet in the air.

A hearty chuckle escaped you. Maybe you’d meet someone too. 

You were finally able to get some rest— thank god for Celeste — and start organizing your costumes for the… large sum of parties they planned to drag you to. 

You still haven’t completely recovered from your nightmare two nights ago. The vivid imagery that your subconscious conjured up still gives you the ick, but for the sake of your friends, you chose not to bring it up again. You silently thanked the universe when you managed to get a full nine hours the night before. 

Your friends managed to pull you into the Halloween spirit and take you to… Spirit. Despite the void stares from your friends at your costume choices, you settled on the Zelda outfit that’d been on sale at Party City for the past two weeks. Celeste couldn’t stop herself from… cutting your costume up and making it as revealing as possible. She opted to cut off the sleeves, sew the pants into a skirt that hugged your body way too tightly, and did your makeup how she wanted. You didn’t stand a chance against her. 

You despised how hot clubs get; You probably looked like you were melting. 

You stayed as far away from the bar as you could, watching your friends down shot after shot as the night progressed. Your surroundings were crowded and stuffy, the bass of the DJ booth rattling from your feet all the way up to your chest. Your moves were sloppy and disoriented, but Celeste was behind you, grabbing your hips and supporting your weight. 

Your thoughts were hazy and incoherent as your arms waved around to the beat. The music blasting in your ears turned into white noise; The environment completely entranced you, your eyes shutting at the weightlessness of your clammy body. 

The hands behind you were suddenly grabbing tighter, yanking you closer, as you continued to dance. 

You pushed back onto them and their arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back, yanking you close, your clammy flesh practically melding with theirs. Their scent engulfed you, rich and deep yet distinct. Your arm wrapped around the back of their neck, pulling them down while their hands explored your hips. 

Their lips were on your neck, your head resting on their shoulder. Something hot was stirring in the pit of your stomach the more they swayed you, the arch in your back deepening; You haven’t felt wanted in so long. 

You tried to spin to face them, but they held you still, pressing their chest into your backside. Your breaths picked up when they bit the most sensitive spot on your neck, your toes curling in your heeled boots, your manicured nails nearly chipping in your stockings. 

Their mouth moved higher and higher, right under your ear, the hand coming up to wrap around your throat to hold you still. Your core squeezed as the grip on your neck tightened… and tightened… your airways were closing, and swiftly, the feeling was no longer pleasant. Your eyes snapped open when they didn’t let up, a shocked gasp escaping your dry mouth. The moment was no longer sensual, but straining and forceful. Almost angry. 

Your lust turned to panic instantly, your eyes bulging as your nails dug into their hands, their taut thighs, their wrist, but they didn’t budge. You thrashed and shook with terror. You gasped for air and tried to push them off but it was all for naught. 

Nobody came to help you. Suddenly all the faceless bodies around you were gone, heaps of black smoke pooling at your feet as you wailed for Celeste. The hands and lips were replaced with razor sharp claws and fangs as cold as ice against the side of your face, murmuring voices and screaming chants roaring in your ears. The former body grew monstrous, tripling in size and darkening. 

The sensation of decaying, bloody skin was at your feet once more, fiery red ants and black widows nipping at your skin as the smoke flooded up your body, swallowing your calves, thighs, waist. 

Weak shouts and begs for release went unheard by the force behind you. A faint whisper of your name made you sob harder; You’re going to die, you’re going to die, you’re going to die—

The whisper called your name again. And again. And again, much louder and urgent. Desperate for a response but all you could do was holler for your mother. 

One last shout of your name made you drop to the floor, all the sensations surrounding your body gone. Your crown clanked onto the vibrating hardwood as drunk clubgoers gawked at you in confusion and annoyance, Celeste and your friends staring in concern, reaching to help you up. 

But you couldn’t be touched. Any brush on your skin surged your heart to your throat. You needed to get the fuck out of here. 

Your friends kept yelling about what happened, how they could help, but you couldn’t speak. You swore you were going to vomit. 

You pushed yourself off the hardwood and through the crowd, away from your friends, away from everyone. Your smudged makeup stained your wrists, the shouts of your name going unheard as you shoved passed security and ran into the night. 

You didn’t sleep at all that night. 

You immediately left the club, hauled a taxi, and ran up into your apartment, double — triple checking to make sure all your doors were locked and windows were closed. You tore your costume off your body and threw it into your garbage before hopping into the shower. You desperately wanted to wash your hair, but you refused to close your eyes. The darkness when you blinked was haunting enough. 

To put it lightly, you were fucking horrified. 

Your body trembled under the steaming water, soft sobs escaping while you scrubbed your skin raw. Especially your shoulder. 

Your phone rang off the hook until the sun rose, your kitty refusing to leave your lap. She never failed to comfort you in your times of need, but you barely rubbed her all night. All you could do is cry and think. 

Your friends pounded on your door multiple times, but you refused to move from your bed. Their frantic knocking was very reminiscent of the pounding in your nightmare. You couldn’t shake how real everything felt: the comfort, the desire, the destress, the pure, unfiltered terror at the imagery of you being eaten alive by darkness. If you could even call it that: imagery. 

Imagery is not enough to describe what you experienced. You were attacked in public, and no one bothered to help you. Nobody… saw anything. 

You’re not fucking crazy. 

Your friends were sweet enough to stop by the same afternoon with candles and lavender-scented bath bombs after your public breakdown. Their efforts at lifting your spirits didn’t go unnoticed, but your thoughts kept racing, every time you shut your eyes, even for a few seconds. How the hell were you going to explain what you saw that night? 

Despite your friends’ skepticism, you were eventually able to convince them that you felt severely claustrophobic and the lack of air sent you spiraling. 

… It wasn’t a complete lie, at least. 

You were able to get some minuscule hours of sleep after they left before it was time to prepare for your shift. Dark circles were imprinted under your eyes, your skin was dry, and your uniform was not ironed, but you were up and moving. Small victories. 

Your hand was practically glued to your forehead in extreme fatigue, your eyes burning at the brightness of your computer screen as you checked the time. Your emails always boomed during this time of year as people prepared for the holiday season; A good night's sleep seemed even farther away now. 

You swiftly replied to each request with your availability before grabbing your bag and keys, kissing your kitty goodbye, and running down to the bus stop. 

You greeted every familiar face with a polite smile before entering the already packed vehicle, the beginnings of a rising sun beaming through the scratched windows. You plopped onto the only available seat — farthest away from your neighbors — with a heavy exhale, your head falling against its rest. 

This week is going to be so gruesome for orders; You prayed Ms. Hattie was prepared for it. 

Returning to work was just as draining as you’d assumed. 

Your business line has been ringing off the hook all morning, people asking for dozens of gingerbread cookies and wedding cakes layered to the ceiling. You could make a nest for yourself right on the clean tiles of the kitchen and nap. 

You’ll never know how Ms. Hattie did it: wakes up at five in the morning and moves through decorating like a walk in the park. You can barely lift your arms and it’s only hour three. 

You whipped egg whites and sugar like your life depended on it — it did — with your landline tucked between your shoulder and ear, reciting pick-up addresses and numbers in voicemails. You’re so fucking tired. 

Hattie wasn’t, though. Just quiet. A bit too quiet. 

She hasn’t said much since you’ve arrived. She got to the shop much earlier than expected, politely saying good morning when she caught you standing by the kitchen entrance. She hasn’t acknowledged you since. You tried to get some laughs out of her, but she only half-smiled before silently returning to her work.

You two continued to carefully wrap and deliver dessert-filled boxes like a well fueled machine up until the last minutes before closing. You stretched before grabbing the broom to sweep the entire shop, making your way into the kitchen where Hattie was staring off into nothing. 

“Hey, girl. I can close up, so,” you murmured, wiping the sweat off your brow. 

She seemed to be pulled out of her trance, “Oh, sorry hun,” Her head bobbed. “Are you sure you’re good on your own?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” You paused. “Umm, are you doin’ okay? You seemed… I dunno, quiet, I guess.” 

Hattie nodded, and you took it as an invitation to speak. “Somethin’ you wanna talk about? You didn’t even tell me how your weekend went. How’re the kiddos?” You asked gently, propping your broom against the wall. 

A heavy exhale left her. 

“I… Something was…” she stuttered. 

Another deep inhale. Another lengthy exhale. 

“Something felt different, no?” She whispered. 

Your brows pulled down in confusion. “What d’you mean?” 

“This… this weekend. Wasn’t it different?” 

“Umm…” you pondered. “Not really, no. Why, what’s goin’ on?” 

More silence before she huffed, “… Nothin’. You know how I get this time of year. Sorry, dear.” She turned and snatched her work bag off the counter before departing with a skittish nod, “See ya tomorrow.” 

“W-Wait—“ You tried to stop her, but the kitchen door was already slamming shut, the small ding alarming Hattie’s departure from your shop. 

You allowed your tense shoulders to drop, snagging the broom and heading towards the front of your shop for cleanup. 

That was odd. 

The front door of your apartment shut and you fell back against it in exhaustion. You desperately needed a massage. 

You stretched before pushing yourself off the door and wobbling over to your cat’s area, refilling her bowl and cleaning her litter box. You clicked your tongue to lure her over to eat. 

You called her name out when she didn’t come. You snagged her filled bowl and shook it, alerting your baby to come and eat. She still didn’t come. You huffed and made your way into your room; She probably took over your softest pillow again.

The bowl in your hand clattered to the floor and your screams nearly shattered your windows. Bile rose in your throat and you heaved at the scene in front of you. 

Your beloved pet was dead. Completely mauled, her blood and organs pouring out of the giant slit that went from her throat to her stomach. Sobs wracked through you at the savage attack. The one source of comfort that you looked forward to seeing every morning and night was gone, snatched away from you in the blink of an eye. You've tried to alleviate your anxiety by suggesting that your nightmares are merely that. Dreams. Creations by your subconscious to try and solve issues that occur in your everyday life. 

But nothing so heinous would ever cross your mind. You would never harm the precious angel who brought you healing in your times of need.  

This wasn’t a coincidence. Someone came into your home while you were away. Someone killed your baby. 

“We’re sorry, ma’am,” the county deputy sighed, “But there wasn’t any sign of breaking and entering. You stated that everything is where you left it, correct?” 

“Everything wasn’t where I left it,” Anger rushed through you at the officer’s dismissiveness. “My cat was fucking fine before I went to work. I’d never… put her in an environment where she could be harmed,” Tears flooded your eyes. 

“We understand that this was an attack done in your home. What happened here’s definitely not normal, but we won’t be able to solve everything in one night,” He consoled, “We’re getting a team here to investigate. I would suggest packing an overnight bag and staying with family or a friend until we get this situated.” 

Family. You almost broke down. 

When you didn’t respond, he interjected, “We can also find you a room to stay in for a few nights— “

“No, uh, thanks. I got it.” 

You dug in your pocket for your phone and dialed Celeste. He nodded and spun towards his partner who jabbered into a walkie. 

Your friend’s tone blared through the speakers, “Hiii, baby, what’s up! I haven’t heard from you in a minute.” 

Your bottom lip wobbled, “Sorry I didn’t call. Um… can I ask a favor?” 

“Of course you can. What’s the matter? Are you good?” 

The floodgates that’d been building in your eyes overflowed, pouring down your cheeks and onto your work shirt. You wept. 

“Can you come pick me up?” 

“I just feel like… I feel like I’m going fucking crazy,” you whispered and picked at your fingers, “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but— “

“Nah, it makes perfect sense. You’re fucking psychic. That’s literally the only explanation,” your friend shook her head at you. “You dreamt about something and it happened a couple days after.” 

“None of that shit is real, Celeste.” She sighed in disappointment. 

“It’s not real to you,” she pointed from the other side of the couch. “My grandmomma was a witch—“You huffed and adjusted the blanket draped over your shoulders. 

“But, hey,” she raised her hands in defense. “I can’t make you believe anything. But coming from the most superstitious bitch in town, somebody is trying to tell you something. You’re not freaked out?” 

“Of course I’m freaked out! But I'm not wasting my time thinking about some… fuckin’ ghost— “

“What happened when we were at the club?” 

Your blood went ice cold. You couldn’t stop the pure terror that spread across your face at the mention of that night. You’ve attempted to block… whatever happened out of your memory for the last couple days for your sake, but Celeste read you like a book, and you hated her for it. 

“Exactly. Are you ready to talk about it now?” 

“I… I told you what happened— “

“You lied about what happened. And don’t try to argue,” She leaned closer, eyes comforting. “We tried calling out to you for so long. We thought somebody fucking… laced you, or something, you were so zoned out. We were this close to calling the fucking police.” 

“… What do you mean? I lost y'all in the crowd before I started dancing with somebody— “

Celeste shook her head, “No.” 

Your throat went dry, the blood rushing to your head almost making you faint. 

“We tried to tell you, baby. But we didn’t wanna push you to talk to us about it,” she said gently. “We were with you the entire time.” 

The tightness in your chest wouldn’t subside, shuddering breaths leaving your nose with every denial from Celeste.  

“No one else came up to us,” she whispered, “and no one danced with you.” 

Your head kept shaking in attempts to disprove her claims, in attempts to combat the fear that was attempting to slice you from the inside out, but deep down, you knew she was onto something. 

Celeste’s hold sadly didn’t bring comfort, but she held you close anyway, ensuring that you’re not by yourself, but all you could think about was your mother. The smile she used to give you whenever you succeeded never failed to recharge the dying battery in your back. It’s depressing how little impact her grin has on you in adulthood. 

The dark cloud of your past cascaded over the two of you; If she were here, your best friend would’ve forced you into the passenger side of her father’s pick-up, already halfway across town by now, set to isolate. To escape. 

“Whoever did this is incredibly strategic,” The tall detective stated with a journal in his hand, “They didn’t leave traces of anything: hair, fingerprints, nothing. It’s almost like they never broke in.” 

You haven’t been able to get any sleep or go to work for the last week, completely isolated inside your friend’s home. When you received a phone call from the detective assigned to your case, you caught the first bus you could and flew back to your apartment complex. You don’t remember the ride. 

Your hope plummeted at his declaration, even with his reassurance, “We’re doing everything we can to find this person. Your safety is our number one priority.”

He gave your shoulder an encouraging squeeze, and it brought you comfort. While you weren’t satisfied with their reports, you could see that he was trying. Was this your first time meeting him? 

He seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place it. 

He stared into your eyes with a gentle grin and continued, “If we should even call them that. They’re a cold-blooded, heartless fiend that needs to be taken out.” 

Your brows furrowed at his sudden determination, but your head bobbed in agreement. Your mind was racing but you couldn’t say anything. Someone killed your baby. Did his grip on you tighten? You couldn’t move. 

“The bastards that get away with such vicious crimes need to be put away forever,” his tone was harsh and sharp, and it made your fingers twitch. Your stomach plummeted when his smile stretched higher, his teeth shin

His other hand landed on your other shoulder. You tried to move back, but you couldn’t, “S-Sir— “

“They need to be hung from the ceiling by their throats and slaughtered like fucking pigs! Like the worthless animals they are! —“

His spit landed on your face at his screams. He hollered about how much he hated killers, how they were scum and deserved to be tortured. How you… 

“You thought we forgot about what you did?” He whimpered; prior menacing smile vanished.

The bearded man in front of you was sobbing, his gaze pinning you against the wall. He didn’t blink and his eyes were bloodshot, his mouth turned downward, the corners of his lips nearly touching his chin. Your eyes frantically traveled over his form, his uniform replaced with pajamas and slippers. 

“YOU’RE A KILLER! YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER! —“

Cursed murmurs amplified his pained shouts. Your home was melting away, the walls seeping into the floor before you dropped, the terror weakening your limbs. Your nails dug into the grass and dirt below you, panic electrifying your system. 

The man was gone, but you were outside in the middle of the night, decomposing trees surrounding you. You tried to stand but you couldn’t. You were forced to take in the scene that you wished to never see again. The one scene that your subconscious couldn’t eliminate no matter how hard you tried to forget. 

Your parents' car— wrecked car. The vehicle was completely destroyed, the bumper and windscreen ran into a tree. You screamed and shouted but no noise left, the sinister chants resounding in your ears. The wreckage seemed to move, closer, closer, your eyes locking onto the two bodies inside completely mangled in the accident. 

The two bodies were younger you, thrown over the dashboard and your arm twisted to an alarming degree, blood running down your head and mouth, shards of glass piercing through the skin of your bare legs. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from peering at the body beside you. You hollered for help, cried and begged to wake up, all while staring at your best friend — your soulmate, completely maimed from the waist up. It was just as brutal as you remember: her blood splattered all over the airbag, her limbs shattered and broken, large pieces of glass pierced into her skull. You were sick, you were sick. 

Suddenly, the mantras that attempted to swallow you whole stopped. 

Then there was laughter. Your soulmate’s laughter, but it wasn’t how you remembered. It was darker, hollow, empty. Enraged. 

Everything around you went dark. 

Sobs tear through your throat the second your eyes open, the comforting scent of Celeste’s lavender candles intruding your senses. Your body was drenched in sweat, and you could hear your friend calling out to you, her cold hands on your face, but you couldn’t think. You just screamed. Her attempts of trying to sit you up failed, your fingers hanging onto her sheets for dear life. You were paralyzed with fear. 

Somehow, your biggest regret came to pay you a visit. 

Your instincts finally kick in, pushing Celeste off you and bolting towards her bedroom door. She was calling for you; she even reached out to touch you, but you pushed her harder. 

She screamed for you to stop, and you lost it. 

“Get the fuck away from me! STOP — stop fucking touching me!” you rush out into her living room and towards her front door. 

Shocked plastered across your friend’s face. 

Celeste whispered your name; Why did she sound like her?

“I gotta get the fuck outta here, I can’t,” heave, “I can’t fucking do this, I can’t, I can’t — “

Distraught mumbles fled your tongue on your way out, not bothering to look back at your friend. You heard her sniffling before the door slammed shut, guilt swarming your chest, but it wasn’t enough to overcast the terror ripping you open from the inside out. 

After vomiting outside of Celeste’s apartment building, — multiple times — you took your leave. As fast as you could. You couldn't say a word to her; She desperately tried to get information out of you, but your throat felt like it would crack open at the slightest whisper. The fear you’d been trying to invalidate crashed into you all at once. 

You fled without your belongings, only slowing when night goers surrounded you in the city. 

Celeste has been worried sick about you this entire time, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. 

Your steps were jerky and quick, and you kept scratching at your shoulder. You felt her everywhere. All over you, but it wasn’t comforting. Not like it used to be. 

You walked and walked, your mind racing with moments from your past: the last moments with your best friend. Your kryptonite. The scar in your shoulder was covered in fresh, red lines from your nails. 

JUNIOR YEAR: 2012

You frantically shoved your books into your locker, anticipating the alarm that sounded for lunch. You can’t wait to get the hell out of here. 

The second it goes off, you're booking it for the door. You hoped Ellie kept her word and brought your birthday present. 

You busied yourself in your small cubby whenever security or teachers walked by, politely greeting them with the most innocent smile you could muster. They didn’t bat an eye, wishing you a happy birthday before turning the corner at the end of the hall. 

You gave them all fake greetings until the loud tone blared through the hallway speakers, students instantly rushing out of their classrooms to head to the cafeteria. You grabbed your now empty backpack and merged with the crowd, trekking for the exit. You managed to scurry through the double doors of the school and bolted towards your parents’ old car, ducking behind the driver's side as you waited for your best friend. 

You texted her a few times but she didn’t respond for minutes. You almost gave up and returned inside the building before two hands pinched your sides from behind. A squeal left your mouth when you whipped around. Ellie snorted at you, her arms wrapping around your neck in a tight hug. You reluctantly hugged her back. 

HAAAPPY BIIIRTHDAAAY TOOO YOUUU—

You shushed her shouts with a smile, Shut up! Someone might hear you.

She kissed your cheek before releasing you, No ones fucking here, relax. Open the door, her head jerked towards the vehicle.

You stealthily unlocked it and the two of you jumped in. You shoved the key into the ignition as Ellie cranked the speakers all the way up, your car rattling with bass as you two exited the parking lot and zoomed down the main street. 

Ellie belted Cherry Waves out the window, bright laughs leaving your throats as you drove to… anywhere. Times like this always bring you joy; You love being around her. 

Ditching class might’ve not been the best birthday celebration, but you were having a ball. 

You drove until you reached the end of town. There was a small campground that you and Ellie found on your first couple drives together, and it swiftly became your little get away spot. You’d spend hours talking, drawing, screaming at the top of your lungs until the sun disappeared and your parents demanded you come home. 

You two raced to your designated spot by the lake, Ellie’s filled backpack slamming onto the sand, glass clattering from the inside. You mischievously eyed it, I think someone owes me a present! 

I don’t owe you shit. I’m a good friend, say thank you, She rolled her eyes. You grabbed her hands and clumsily twirled her. 

Thank you, Ellieee! you nearly ripped her bag apart as you inspected the contents. 

Don’t go too crazy. Remember what happened last time? her smile was light, but you could tell she was scolding you. You snickered. 

Um, yeah. We had a ball. Help me open this, you downplayed, passing her the unopened bottle. 

You know exactly what she’s referring to; You might’ve drank a bit too much at your friend’s birthday dinner. And Christmas party… and when you all went to the fair, but it was all in good fun! You’re young and living life; Ellie’s always a bit dramatic when she comments on your drinking. 

Ellie snatched the bottle and opened it, taking a large swig from it before handing it back. You followed in her lead, taking three large gulps of the liquid, the burn flowing down your throat and into your stomach. Ellie pulled her speaker out of her bag and queued your joint playlist. 

The two of you drank and sang and danced until sunset, your vision blurry and legs wobbly. Ellie was sweet enough to help you back to the car, snagging the keys from your pocket before helping you into the passenger side. You tried to talk to her, but she couldn’t understand. She always looked so cute when you mumbled nonsense, wispy brows pulled down with a light smile. You felt so happy whenever she was around. 

She drove you back home and you threw up all over your front yard. Somehow, she snuck past your parent's room without hassle, ushering you into bed. You couldn’t stop laughing; Her bright smile only made you cackle louder before her hand pressed against your mouth. 

—

Ellie’s soft palms moved up and down your arm bare, occasionally squeezing your bicep. You couldn’t stop smiling, goosebumps following the drag of her fingertips.

You’re such a dork, she whispered between snickers. 

You love me, you said much louder, but she hummed. The look in her eye was suddenly far away. You nervously nibbled at your bottom lip, your eyes dropping to her mouth. Did her lips always look this soft?

You admired every aspect of her face in silence, your index finger continuing to trace over the bridge of her nose, the apple of her cheeks, down to her chin. Ellie’s a sight. 

Your hazy mind barely noticed the tint on her cheeks, your bedroom dimly lit by the moonlight cascading in from your window. Her eyes were glued to your mouth. 

She inched closer, her moves subtle. You would’ve missed it if she wasn’t right there. 

You don’t know what came over you, but your mouth pressed against hers. Her lips were stiff against yours, and it made you pull away.

She didn’t seem… happy, not how you felt. Her expression was gloomy, her eyes flashing with… everything and nothing at the same time. You locked up instantly. 

You love me, Ellie… right? 

Your tongue felt swollen in your mouth when you slurred. 

Ellie didn’t answer, and you held yourself up on your elbow, your brain alarming your legs to get up and leave. To abandon. 

Ellie… d-do you love me? 

O-Of course I do—

The tremors in her voice sliced through you like a hot blade. Her confirmation was only meant to appease, your drunk brain told you. Ellie doesn’t love you, not like that. Your own parents’ love is conditional; Why wouldn’t hers be?

—

You were never a rebellious kid. 

Your parents always praised you for being a remarkable role model for your younger siblings: incredible listener, studious, eager to help others. They never failed to highlight, amplify, pressure your good behavior. But their doting smiles disappeared when you failed to meet their expectations. 

The transition from middle to high school was rough for you. Your grades suffered and you were surrounded by other kids you didn’t recognize, and your “star-student” streak vanished in an instant. You’ve never seen your family so disappointed in you. 

You broke your back trying to save your academic status for the next few years. You hardly slept, ate, spent time with your newfound friends, and it was all for your parents. They didn’t acknowledge you until that offer to join the early-college program came in the mail during your sophomore year. When you accepted that you needed to have something to show to get their affection, you spiraled downward. 

You swiftly replaced the emptiness in your heart with a bunch of seniors. They agreed to let you tag along if you could hang, so you did whatever was necessary to gain their companionship: started sneaking out, staying out late, going to parties that you had no business being at. 

Started drinking. 

Just one sip, loosen up! Little did you know that’s all it took to get you hooked. 

The drink was rancid and a gross, murky color. You weren’t enjoying it, so why couldn’t you put the cup down for the rest of the night? You threw back cup after cup until you were unconscious on the front porch of the house. None of your friends bothered to take you inside where it was safe. 

You barely recall being hauled back inside and upstairs, plush pillows under your head as you drifted off. When you woke, you swiftly decided that the pounding in your head and the nausea in your gut was worth it. Last night was the freest you’d ever felt. You almost missed the small sticky note stuck on your arm. Someone gave you their phone number, demanding that you tell them if you made it out alive (i hope so.)

You gained a best friend from that sloppily scratched note. 

Meeting Ellie was a blessing. She was funny, smart and kind. She was so nice to you. None of your old friends treated you like she did. Ellie’s friends were much warmer and welcoming when she introduced you to them for the first time. Every time they had plans, you were invited, no conditions needed. 

Every vacant space in your heart was filled with something brighter. It’s unfortunate that your brain has already mastered its attachment to something more dangerous. 

Ellie… for the billionth fucking time, I don’t have a problem. Can you just let it go? you scoffed from your bed. 

I’ll let it go when you cut it out. You can’t do shit without it anymore, She spat, pointing at the McDonald’s cup filled with Tequila. You grinned nastily and sipped your straw. You were so sick of having this conversation with your friends. With her. 

Yes, I can. I’m fine. See? You sarcastically rubbed all over your body. Another huge gulp. I dunno why y'all are acting like this. I’m not the only one that drinks. 

You’re not fuckin’ fine, first of all! It was fun at first, but you don’t know how to control yourself! You’re scaring everybody off, Her arms flailed as her voice rose. You’re so happy your parents are working. 

You weren’t “scaring everybody off”; You did have some outbursts some time ago, but your friends were still around. They always called you for a fun time, and you were always there to show out. 

Oh my fucking god, you’re so extra, you got up with your cup, grabbing Ellie’s hand and leading her into the bathroom down the hall. You removed the lid and dumped its contents out; You tried to hide the surge of anxiety as you watched it go down the drain. 

See? I can stop whenever I want. 

Then stop, she whispered, sadness in her eyes, No more… okay? 

The emotions flowed through her eyes like water, and it made you uncomfortable. You already wanted a refill, but you nodded to appease her. 

O-Okay, Ellie, I’m sorry, you whispered, and she hugged you so tight. Kissed your clothed shoulder, and it gave you solace, even if it was just temporary. 

But when she left, you were alone, comforted by the temptation of your own thoughts. You broke into your parents’ locked liquor cabinet that same night. 

—

When you showed up to exam day drunk, Ellie began to pull away. 

She didn’t bother to beg and yell when you were entranced by your vice. You simply saw her less, and your heart cracked whenever your calls went unanswered. 

Abandonment was the worst feeling, even more so when it’s a result of something you’ve done. Your anxiety spiked significantly when you strolled around campus and your friends ignored you, and it only made you drink more when you got home. The acidic pacifier you discovered was turning you into someone unrecognizable. You were failing, and you were alone. You’d wished your siblings were older so you could talk to them. 

Everything came crashing when your parents received an alarmed call from your principal. 

You’d been vomiting in the nurse's office for half an hour, and they ended up calling the ambulance. Your stomach was getting pumped hours later. 

When you regained consciousness, the only thing you could hear were your mother’s hysteric sobs in the hall. 

—

Summer came along, and you were out of rehab. Withdrawal fucking sucked; It took you almost three weeks to fall asleep in the center. 

You didn’t expect to see Ellie and your friends sitting on your porch when your parents pulled into the driveway, flowers and your favorite candy in hand. Your best friend cried into your shoulder for an hour straight; You refused to let her go as you sobbed into hers. You’d missed hugging her. 

When everyone was seated on your parents' couch, you offered to share the secret to get melty, gooey chocolate chip cookies every time. They couldn’t stop grinning at you; You were finally back to normal. 

Ellie spent the night at your house and hugged you to her chest until you drifted off. 

You accepted that you were a terrible person when all you could think about was a drink. Just one. 

All the promises you made were broken a few months later, crushed into dust by your own hand.  

—

Everyone you loved hated you. Liquor always forced you to see the truth in people, melted away the fantasy that you created out of self-preservation. It fueled the rage that you desperately tried to keep hidden from your family; You’re so fucking mad, and you can’t remember why. 

Your parents hated you; your siblings hated you, your best friend, the one person you have to confide in, the only thing you had left to love, hated you. Everyone hated you, and it was all your fault. Selfishness was the only way one could be a successor. 

The second Ellie climbed into your parents’ car with that soft look in her eye, fury swallowed you whole. You barely said a word to her, her favorite song cranked to maximum volume. 

Ellie? Your voice was quiet, but you were seething. You don’t remember why. 

Hm? 

D-Do you still care about me? your hands were clenched around the wheel so tightly, you thought it would snap in two. She was suddenly tense in the passenger seat, but she whispered without hesitation. Of course, I do… always. 

But you didn’t believe her. 

Ellie should’ve never agreed to go on a drive with you. 

The way Ellie whipped her head towards you was vicious, her hand slamming onto the volume button of your car to silence the noise. You hated how she knew instantly. 

… Are you fucking drunk right now? 

There it was. All the proof you needed. Confirmation that you were nothing but a disappointment. You hadn’t moved from the stop sign. Self-loathing thrashed from the inside; your teeth are bound to crack like glass with the tightness of your jaw. 

She’d whispered your name with so much disdain. A molten tear eased down your face like magma. This was the same residential area you parallel parked in for your driver’s test. 

Your eyes were glued onto the dimly lit street as Ellie cried and begged for you to stop the car. She admitted to loving you and apologized for everything she said that could’ve hurt your feelings. All you had to do was stop the car and everything would be fine, she said. You pressed the gas so hard; it nearly touched the floor of the vehicle. 

I love you… Please don’t do this… I love you so much… 

Ellie’s last scream was haunting before everything went silent. 

—

The reality around you never rebuilt itself after that night. 

You were able to convince yourself that the accident didn’t happen for a few weeks. Until your best friend’s burial. According to your parents last voicemail, Ellie’s father wanted to strangle you with his bare hands. You took his life away with one decision. No one contacted you after that. Not your parents, not your siblings, not your friends. 

You were charged and placed in juvenile detention until you were of legal age, and sent off to prison for another six years after that. 

Your habit fed you lies about the people you loved most, and it cost the life of your only constant. The one person who tried to get you to change. The purest form of love you had. 

You killed your soulmate, and you never recovered. 

PRESENT

You walked until you reached Hattie’s front porch. Your calves were on fire. 

Your tightly clenched fist pounded on the wood with all the strength you had left. You could see the shadows of someone walking around inside, but she didn’t open the door. She probably wanted nothing to do with you after not showing up to work for weeks, but you were desperate. 

“M-Ms. Hattie, please,” you hollered, “I really need t’talk to you! Please, please— “

The door barely creaked open. You expected her to scream and berate you for disrupting her so late in the night, but she was silent. Didn’t utter a word. She only peered through the small crack in the doorway, her eyes bloodshot. Her voice sounded graveled, like she hadn’t slept in days. 

“What the hell are you doin’ here.” 

“Ms. Hattie, I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know where to go,” You harshly wiped your eyes, “May I please— “

“No, you may not,” her glare sliced through you, sharper than any knife. You bawled. 

“Please, I’m beggin’ you, ma’am— “

“What…” her voice quivered, her gaze breaking away from yours for a split second. 

“What did you do… to that girl?” She whispered like it pained her, and it felt like your chest would concave. 

“… W-What?”

The look on her face was enough for you. 

She knows. She knew. 

“It was you,” tears filled the woman’s eyes, “I had a dream that you… How could you do that… That poor baby…” 

Your head shook in denial. It was an accident, you wanted to scream, I don’t know what came over me! Your eyes squeezed shut and you fell to your knees, thunderous pleads leaving your throat as you begged her to listen. You hunched over and miserably tried to grab at her feet. 

I loved her, I loved her, I loved her! You couldn’t speak. 

“Whatever happens t’you…”

“No, nonono!—“

“I hope God… the universe… whoever the hell,” She spat, “Has mercy on you.” 

You couldn’t stop screaming. Your voice was muffled by the concrete floor. 

“Get the fuck off my porch.” And the door slammed in your face. You heard the locks click, and just like that, your last inkling of hope shunned you. 

You hadn’t realized you’d been screaming for Ellie until you sat up, burning eyes glued to the dark, cloudy sky. 

The sun rose from behind as you climbed your apartment steps. 

The bundle of police cars and black trucks outside the building were an indication of your case being ongoing, but it brought you no comfort. A constant ache was present in your chest every time you breathed. Murmurs erupted from behind as you dragged your body inside, ignoring the deputies who were urging you off the premises. 

Officers and residents stared at you in confusion, shock, bewilderment the second you hopped off the elevator. Exhaustion was pouring out of you, your under eyes almost black and pajamas wrinkly. You can’t recall the last time you showered. 

The elevator dung, and you made your way down the hall, police tape surrounding your front door. You dodged it and crept in, the sight of the investigators almost sending you into a panic. 

Terror built in your spine as they gawked at you; Ellie’s fucking with you. You’re probably asleep right now. 

“Ma’am?” 

You shakily turned towards the investigator assigned to your case. “Are you alright?” 

No. You nodded, “I came to get some things.” 

Some silence passed before you spoke. 

“I need a place to stay,” your cuticles were scabbing. “As far away from here as possible… if that’s even allowed.” Your living room felt like it was tipping. 

Their brows furrowed, scanning over your ragged appearance, “Um… The farthest we can place you is about a half hour away. We still need to monitor you… Especially now.” You bit the dig with a tilted head. 

You nearly leaped into the air at the sudden, distant ring in your ears. 

“Will y’all still cover m’stay?” The tremor in your hands built with the shrilling pierces in your drums. 

“Yes… Are you sure everyt— “

“I’m fine! I’m fi— I’m fine!” The shrieks overwhelmed you, both hands coming up to cover your ears, your head pounding. Foreign hands were attempting to steady your hunched form, but to no avail. Your body gave out completely, pained wails leaving your dry lips. 

I’m fine, I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine—

You tried. You tried your hardest, but you couldn’t convince anyone — yourself that you were okay. Something’s here. When did the air in your home get so cold?

The softest call of your name frosted the blood in your veins. 

You’re hallucinating; You have to be. Don’t look up. Don’t open your eyes. 

The voice called again, elation enriching her tone. Your head shook in disbelief. 

It can’t be. 

“L-Look at me. I’m here! I'm okay!” 

No, no no no, you told yourself. Sobs wracked through your hunched form. 

“Look at me! I love you!” 

Shoe-covered feet inched towards you, slowly. Almost… cautious. 

“Wake up! Wake up, wake up!” Your whispers were harsh. Urgent. Desperate. 

A comforting hand rubbed your shoulder. You flinched and wailed, frantically pinching the skin of your wrists.  

“NO! No, no, fucking get up— “

“Shhh,” Her hand squeezed you, “It’s me.” 

You’re going to fucking puke. Your eyes stayed shut while she cradled you, your head resting on her shoulder. She felt taller, stronger, but she smelled the same. You couldn’t move, but she hugged you so tight. 

Ellie, Ellie, I love you, I’m sorry— 

A kiss on your shoulder. Right over your scar. 

“I love you more.” 

You calmed in her presence as she rocked you on the floor. Your guilt almost made you push her away, but you’re selfish; You need this, for her to hug you. 

It felt like she held you for years, right on your apartment floor. She didn’t let you go. 

But when your eyes opened, eggshell white hospital walls surrounded you. Kept you trapped in the small hell that Ellie’s created. 

You haven’t slept or eaten. You’ve barely showered. 

Ellie was with you. Ellie’s with you. You felt her there; She held you! You’re not fucking crazy. 

Three days have passed since you were carried out of your apartment by EMTs, according to the investigators that are still terrorizing your fucking home. They assumed you were having a seizure by how still you were. You were unresponsive for minutes, they’d said. Celeste was right. You didn’t have the courage to face her and apologize. 

You haven’t left your motel room since you’ve arrived. You hate it in here — it looks like it’s eroding from the outside, the windows are scratched and tinted a murky yellow, the sheets feel like sandpaper, but it’s better than home. Better than being in public amidst your impending psychological breakdown. 

Ellie’s here. She’s watching you and laughing at the wreck you’ve become. 

You’re slipping; You can feel it. The way she hugged you… You could’ve melted into her for eternity when she said she loved you, never to be seen or heard from again, completely under her control. Not that anyone would care about your disappearance. A gutted huff left you. 

Your past finally caught up to you. Tears flooded your eyes for the hundredth time tonight. 

The faint shuffling coming from your bathroom didn’t even shock you. She’s here again. 

Your eyes overflowed, and they shut in resignation; You’re going to die. 

“E-Ellie?” 

Silence. 

Your eyes squeezed tighter. You have nothing left to fight for. 

“Just do it! Just fucking do it!” 

That’s all you’ve ever been: a quitter. More shuffling, then silence. 

“FUCKING KILL ME! KI— KILL ME, ELLIE!” 

You heaved and rose from the edge of your bed. You marched down the seemingly endless hallway, heart cracking in your chest. 

“KILL ME! KILL ME, KILLME! —“

Weighted knocks pounded against your room door, shocking you into silence. She’s here, she’s here; She’s fucking with you. 

A dark chuckle left you. 

“You’re fucking sick,” You spat with a sniffle, “I hate your fucking guts, just like you hated me! You fucking hate me, right?” 

You’re awake. And you’re angry. 

You tramped towards the entrance and knocked back just as hard. 

“FUCK YOU, BITCH! FUCKING — FUCK YOU, ELLIE, YOU FUCKI— “

Heat traveled across your face the second you ripped the door open. 

A woman… a motel employee… with sheets in her hand, visibly stunned. 

You’re going fucking crazy. 

“Uhh… just came to give you new, uh, sheets,” Her voice was high-pitched, clearly uncomfortable. Your eyes flickered with embarrassment, cheeks blazing. 

“S-Sorry…” You allowed the shorter woman entry, and she scurried over to the small nightstand in the corner of your room. 

You picked at your fingers, “Um… sorry if I scared you. It’s been a weird… fuckin’ weird couple of weeks.” 

She didn’t acknowledge you at all. Just silently laid the sheets and pillowcases on the side of your bed. 

“Am I,” You huffed, anxiously rubbing your eyes. “Are you gonna report me or somethin’?” 

Silence. 

Your brows furrowed at the sudden stillness of the woman, her back turned towards you. 

“Hey, you okay?” A cautious step forward. “Look, I’m… I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’m fine— “

“Fuck you.” 

You flinched at her venomous tone; voice filled with spite. The fuck?

“… What?” 

“After all this time…” she whispered, the ponytail in the woman’s head shaking in disbelief. 

“You’re still the same… selfish, psychotic fucking bitch I remember you to be.” 

Your knees buckled at the sudden low timbre of her voice. Goosebumps ran up and down your arms at its familiarity. She sounded just like… She’s… It can’t be. It can’t be, it can’t be—

The one window you cracked for air earlier slammed shut, the clicks from your door signaling your confinement. You’re trapped.

Your nails sunk into your palms; She’s here. She’s real and she’s fucking here and going to kill you. 

Her laugh filled the room, low and vengeful, and the one lit lamp on the nightstand flickered off. 

Your breaths were shallow and desperate, sheer panic rushing through your body. You took blind, scurried steps towards the door, feeling around for the knob to take your leave, but it wouldn’t budge. You pounded on the wood from the inside, screaming for anyone to come save you. 

Something cold and slimy slinked around your ankles and roughly yanked you to the floor, your hands scrambling to grab onto anything on the hardwood as they pulled you towards her. You caught glimpses of her glowing, red eyes with every panicked look over your shoulder. 

You were pulled up, up, up by your feet until you were dangling upside down, her glowing orbs piercing through yours. You barely made out her manic smile, fangs bright and as sharp as knives. Something sharp pressed against your windpipe, ready to tear your throat out. 

The room she trapped you in disappeared completely, an empty, dark void surrounding her, you. There’s nothing anywhere. 

You hollered as your stomach flipped; She’s going to kill you right here—

“Ellie, please, please don’t! —“

A sharp slice right through your shoulder. You released a pained scream before your vision grew cloudy, body growing limp as you swayed in the air. Your screams quieted, your drowsy mind filling with images of Ellie smiling affectionately at you. 

Ellie… Ellie, please… 

Trees danced with the wind before everything went dark. 

Water erupted from your mouth, your eyes ripping open, fingers tearing into the dirt beneath you. 

You pushed yourself into a sitting position, more water dripping from your hair and clothes, down your bare legs. Pain shot through your shoulder with every move. You reached to touch it and… ouch. Blood coated your fingertips. 

You gazed around. You knew exactly where you were, but it was off. 

You and Ellie’s hideout. The campground is exactly how you remember, but it was darker, murkier, less inviting and cozy. Familiar, yet foreign. 

“Miss me?” 

You jolted, scurrying away from whatever was behind you. 

“Aww, don’t be scared,” Ellie mocked, fake pout pulling at her lips. “C’mooon, it’s just me! Welcome to my humble abode!” 

What the fuck, what the fuck—

The same appendage from earlier wrapped around your leg, yanking you back, and your heart sank. Your eyes were deceiving you; They had to be. 

Ellie, much taller and stronger than you remember, stood over you, pupils pitch black, a devious smile spread across her face, sharp fangs glimmering in the dark. The two horns that swirled atop her head were dark, the protruding veins red and throbbing like they were alive. You saw the sharp edge of her tail glowing behind her head, speckles of red liquid crusting over on the tip. 

Is… Did she cut you with that? 

Your heart squeezed painfully with familiarity; The small spots that dusted her face and the scars that covered her legs from biking accidents were still there. 

“E-Ellie?” 

She posed, arms extended, “In the flesh. Kinda. There’s no… actual flesh for the dead… Well, we technically could have skin, but it wouldn’t be ours.” 

“I’ve been lookin’ for you. You look good,” she muttered, eyes dark as they traveled over you. You suddenly felt exposed. 

Silence passed between the two of you. How was her tone so casual? 

What the fuck is going on… 

She huffed at your silence, “Didn’t think our ten-year anniversary would be this fucking awkward. Can’t even say hi?” 

Her words were hardly registering. 

“Huh.” Her eyes flashed back, and the organ around your leg untangled, retracting into the grass beneath you.

“You’ve… you’ve been looking for me?” 

“Mhmm,” she hummed, carelessly playing with her razor-sharp nails. “You got outta jail, got a place… bought the bakery you always talked about. Congratulations, jailbird! You beat the system… and were able to outrun the devil for some time!” 

She showcased the ashy, decaying scenery like it was a prize. “Here’s your first glimpse into the other side. Is it to your liking? Should I fluff your pending gravestone? Put some roses over it since everyone you love won’t?” 

Other side? “… Am I dead?” 

“Nope! Almost. You have a purpose before I take you out. Finally, am I right?” Sarcasm sharpened her tongue. 

“… You're insane,” your voice was hoarse, shattered. You swore your esophagus was bloody. 

“Me?!” She snickered sickly, eyes darkening, “Remind me what happened between us again? Who hurt who? Who killed who?!” 

“… I— “

You paused. What the fuck do you say to her? I still love you somehow. Please don’t hate me forever. I’m a worthless fuck up—

“None of the above,” she interrupted… your thoughts? “To be frank, I don’t wanna hear shit from you,” she swayed sassily, circling you like a shark, her tail sashaying around.

“… Why’m I here then?” 

She paused, the muscles in her back flexing. Your gut tumbled. 

Ellie turned to face you, lips curling devilishly. 

“Well… ” she trailed off, voice alluring. “It gets lonely down here. I don’t have anybody to call. Nights are so cold.” 

She suddenly dropped to her knees, sensuality practically leaking out of her as she crawled towards you. Your heart was thumping, stomach in knots. 

“I need you… to do exactly what I tell you…” 

Your breaths shuddered the closer she got.

“I’m so fuckin’ hungry… Just sit there and let me take what I want,” Her mumbles were drunk and lustful. “You fucking owe me. I’m trapped here ‘cause of you.” 

She straddled your lap, eyes glued to yours. They flashed red, and an appendage locked around your throat, knocking the wind from your lungs and pulling you flat onto the dirt. You tried to pull against it, but it tightened on your airways. You choked, pain searing in your shoulder, causing you to let up. Another set of slimy appendages clasped around your wrists, followed swiftly by two locking down your ankles. 

The burn from your bleeding shoulder made your nipples harden under your filthy sweatshirt. She chuckled above you. 

“That was quick,” Her brow arched. “Haven’t gotten any? What, no one wants to drill a felon?” She cooed with a pout. 

You shot her a glare. A squeeze on your throat. A clench from your walls. 

“Oh!” She exclaimed in remembrance. “Sorry about that club fiasco. I was gonna fuck you then, but seeing you enjoying yourself got on my nerves, so.” 

She rambled on about how she made a whole plan to ruin your life the second she found you until you were rotting in the grave, but you weren’t listening. Your eyes moved over her lips, down her neck, over her bare chest, blood burning under your skin. Another squeeze from your cunt. Your face burned with every drop of slick that left you. 

“Think I’m cute? The horns doing it for ya?” she interrupted your gawking. 

You averted your gaze. She snorted before her expression went lubricious, eyes glossing over.  

“You smell so good,” she slurred with fluttery lids. 

No, you don’t. You haven’t showered—

“I meant your pussy, you fucking idiot,” her eyes rolled in annoyance. “You’re killin’ my vibe. Shut up.” 

Your eyes widened in shock; Don’t think, don’t think—

“She smelled like that in the club. Just needed some lovin’, hm?” Her hand reached back to pat your pussy over your pajama shorts and you squealed. You’re leaking. 

“Oh, she’s starving— “

Fear and arousal flurried in your tummy, “What’re you gonna do?” 

You could almost see the wires in her head sparking to life. She leaned over you, her cold body pressed against yours, noses almost touching. 

“I’m gonna rip that pussy open until I feel better…” The aura around her was smokey and blinding. “And then…” Her nose bumped against yours, almost affectionately. “I’m gonna rip that fucking throat out. Might hang your body from a tree. I needa decorate.” 

A choked sob left you, thighs rubbing together as tears plummeted down your temples. Ellie shushed you gently, her forked tongue licking over the droplets before they cascaded down into the grass. 

Every swipe of her tongue sent a zap through your face. The sting sent your jolt through your spine, hips bucking into her. A hot, slick line ran up your cheek, grazing your jawline, cat-like spines digging into your clammy skin. 

… Is… Is she really…?

You couldn’t stop the shudder that ran up your body, your foot jerking outward at the sensation. The tentacle clenched around your ankles, and you gasped. Ellie was grinding on top of you, whimpering into your neck, marking your skin. 

“E-Ellie, El— “

Another swipe, a thick, sticky trail burning its way into your hairline. Your whines are almost inaudible. Pain is burning up your legs when the organ twisted tighter; You’re shocked your ankle didn’t snap in two. 

She moved faster on top of you, pleasantly sighing into your neck. Your face is fucking sizzling. 

“What the… fuck,” The situation is settling in for you: Ellie’s dead… but, not? And she’s humping you like a dog. You shouldn’t want to watch her, observe the love of your life get off on your fucking stomach, but you — your pussy wants it — needs her. 

You missed her so fucking much. 

Soft chuckles erupted from her, icy breath on your neck. She sat up, rubbing her bare cunt on your tummy. 

“You wanna watch?” 

No, no no please—

Your head shook, mind racing with pleads for her to touch you, but she stared back in disapproval. 

“I think you wanna watch,” She sat up, lifting her knees and resting her freezing hands on your thighs, her pretty pussy on full display, “Missed me that bad?” 

She’s right there, but you can’t move. More tears, more begging from you. 

“Wanna see a trick I learned?” She inquired mischievously. You didn’t have a chance to answer before more vine-like organs emerged from the dirt, eager and throbbing, globs of slick dribbling from their tips.

“When you’re sad and horny, answers will eventually fall in your lap,” She watched the appendages sliver all over her shoulders, her back, down her stomach. Her head flew back, her short flyways waving around her horns. 

“I bet that fucked up head of yours never expected this would happen, huh? Never thought you’d see me like this?” She moaned out as the suctioned limb traveled over her left nipples, her eyes beaming red, scorching through your chest. 

Your walls squeezed down on nothing, desperate groans leaving your throat, underwear clinging to your cunt. You couldn’t close your legs, the members slinked around coming up to suck on your thighs. 

Nasty little cuck, her voice boomed through your skull, Wanna watch me get fucked, right?

Your head bobbed dumbly. The appendages scurried down her body. You watched as the veins in her horns glowed brighter, her eyes shading an even deeper scarlet, her lip catching between her teeth when the suctions came in contact with her clit. 

The slippery members attacked your thighs with strong suctions, the sensitive skin littered with blotchy, dark spots. A wet slither made its way up your body, under your sweatshirt and in between your tits. The tip teased both nipples, your back arching deeper for more friction. The air was muggy and your body was disgustingly sticky; The sensations made your clit jerk. 

You blearily stared up at Ellie, nearly cumming at the sight of her with a thick, throbbing appendage fucking into her pussy, another two attacking her nipples. Her walls were stretched around the dark, pulsing tentacle, her juices filling the open air with sopping squelches. 

Her eyes fluttered open and refocused on you, a dark line of drool dripping from her mouth and landing on your exposed torso. You released a pained shout, your skin burning at the contact. Tension built tight in your core, clit throbbing in your underwear. You’re struggling to breathe, head floating further into the clouds with each whimper from Ellie. She giggled hazily, moans sounding between her condescending snickers. She gathered spit in her mouth and allowed it dribble onto one of your breasts. 

S’hitting it s’good! Fuck, I can’t—

Finally, finally, the tentacles choking your legs unraveled and crawled up, closer to your drenched cunt. Just one touch — you need one touch and you’ll cum. Just one, just one, please, please—

Slut needs t’cum? Beg some fuckin’ more, c’mon, Ellie’s moans and shouts in your head were somehow bringing you closer to that peak you desperately craved. 

“Please, El, please, fuck… me— “

“I’m — oh, fuck, yes— “

Your shorts and underwear were being ripped from around your waist, yanking you in all directions. The friction made your walls constrict tight. The harsh suctions on your clit were instantaneous. Finally, finally, finally—

You and Ellie’s moans melted together, colors floating behind your eyelids. The wet sounds from Ellie’s pussy made your peak build in record time, zoning in on her cries. You’re going to cum so hard. It’s almost there, just a little bit more— 

Ellie’s everywhere. In your head, line of blurry vision, on top of you, about to break and shatter. She's so perfect, shrouded in darkness and gloom and desire.

The tentacle suddenly expanded inside her pussy, stretching it wider, massaging all the spots that made her see white. 

“M’gonna fucking cum, s’gonna make me cum— “

You’re so close, you’re close, you’re close. You wordlessly begged her to cum with you. Her knees trembled while her legs begged to close, but she forced them open. Forced herself to take everything, all of it. The tentacle pulsed sporadically inside her, and she crashed. 

Pleasure was snatched away from you in an instant, the suckles on your clit gone. You cried and sobbed for Ellie to make you cum, but she ignored you, her body wracking in pleasure, heavy globs of black slick dribbling from her cunt, right under your tits. 

She rode it out, bouncing on the large appendage before it shrunk to its original size. It jerked inside her a few more times before leaving her completely, more dark, gooey liquid dripping from her pussy. 

She came down slowly, giddy laughs leaving her swollen lips as her walls rippled from the aftershocks. 

“This is gonna be…” she scooped up some of the substance with her razor-like nails before shoving them into your mouth. 

The peculiar twang coated your tastebuds. She continued. 

“So much fun.” 

You never thought you’d have the chance to kiss Ellie again. 

But you are, and you’re so fucking nervous. 

When you kissed her for the first time, you were confident, impulsive, reckless. Your regret didn’t come until after, but now here you two were, her split tongue messily sliding over yours, your tongue sizzling from the venom coating her mouth. Ellie’s mess seeped into your skin with each jerk of her hips. You’d give anything to touch her. 

Your eyes squeezed shut every time she suckled on your lips, licked up your chin, squeezed her hand over your throat. She’s much more secure this time around; It’s almost enough to get you there. 

Almost. 

You were suddenly yanked back by your hair, head thudding the ground. Ellie seemed deep in thought, eyes distant. 

“You’re a bad kisser.” 

Your lip quivered. Ouch, “S… Sorry…”

“Ellie?” Your throat burned. 

“Yes, dear?”

Her tone made you flinch. Everything you wanted to say left your brain in a cloud of smoke. 

“Am… Am I…?”

“Are youuu…?” She trailed off. Her hand disappeared, lower, before a loud, sticky noise blaring in your head. She sighed happily; Ellie’s touching herself. Right in front of your face. 

Your face is on fire and your shoulders are cramping up. 

“Will… Can I, can I cum?” 

“I don’t know… can you?” She shrugged with a smile. 

Your eyes nearly rolled in annoyance; they would’ve if you weren’t so desperate to be fucked senseless. 

She sat up fully, her wet hand reaching right in between your legs. They nearly clamped shut on her wrist, but more tentacles appeared to hold them open for her. She wasn’t looking at your pussy, but she knew exactly where to touch you. She rubbed her own juices into your clit, a nasty shhlck filling the calm air. 

Tears built in your eyes at the sensitivity, your toes digging into the dirt beneath you. Her thoughtless mumbles were barely registering in your melting brain. Your impending orgasm nearly crashed into you before she stopped. 

Your body tensed and your pleasure dissipated. Sobs left your mouth as you garbled, “E—llie, please, please, no more— “

“Don’t close your legs, I mean it. Take what I give you like a good bitch,” Ellie shimmied down your body, resting in between your legs. The tentacles hooked under your knees and forced them up, holding them right against your chest. You can’t see what Ellie’s doing and she’s silent. 

You wanted to ask what was taking so fucking long—

A loud crack rang through the heavily wooded area, pain searing through your thigh. The stinging sensation brought tears to your eyes, sobbing softly to yourself. 

The sudden flicking against your clit brought tears to your eyes. She’s touching you, finally. Your arms pulled at the veiny tentacles still clamped around your wrist, aches running down to your shoulders at the stiffness. 

Ellie’s fingers were replaced with something much softer, and your body turned to mush. The appendages around your thighs twisted tighter, gripped harder, as the barbs from her tongue caught on your clit. It felt so fucking good; her split muscle moved so quick on your clit; your yelps of her name sound into the crisp air. You’ve been on the verge of cumming this entire time, but you can’t.

Suddenly, her tongue is easing downward, brushing against your perineum. Your hips tried to push down into her muscle, but to no avail. You could feel numbness building in your feet from the restriction. 

Look at this tight little ass, two of her fingers were massaging your other hole, causing you to whimper. 

Yeah? she pressed down harder, Like it right there?

Your head gravely bobbed in approval; you’ve never been touched there, but you crave it now. 

Tiny fucking hole… gotta get you ready, huh?

Her voice is thick and haughty; you’re shivering. 

A glob of spit lands on your ass, the sensitive skin tingling, numbness spreading across the pulsing area. She rubbed it in quickly and gave your hole one last slap. 

Her tongue was back at your cunt; you squealed at the sensation of her tongue slivering past your entrance, walls stretching over her muscle. The soft splinters massaged your walls just right, caressing all the spots inside you and you felt it building — 

Suddenly, her tongue stretched wider, expanded, pressed down on your walls, right on your spot; you were squirting on her tongue seconds later. You couldn’t warn her of your orgasm before you bursted, walls desperately milking her as satisfied shouts escaped your lips, your brain turning to goo. 

“El — mmh! Fuck, yes, rightthere! —“

Sniveled thank yous were pouring from your lips as Ellie fucked into you, your juices coating her face. Bursts of color exploded behind your eyelids. 

You thought you would never come down, but the intensity of your orgasm slowed, eyes slowly blinking open. Your vision was spotty; Ellie slowly pulled out, humming at the squeals that left you. You couldn’t move. 

Suddenly all the tentacles were gone, limbs free and weightlessly plopping onto the ground. Your eyelids fell shut in exhaustion, your heart flooding with longing.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” A light kick on your shoulder. 

Ellie… 

“Get the fuck up. I’m not done,” she snorted coldly. 

Ellie… please…

“What the fuck did I say,” The agitation in her tone rose. 

I’m so sorry… 

“I don’t care,” You were suddenly pushed onto your back, Ellie standing over you, eyes glowing dimly. 

I miss you so much… 

Memories of your past flowed through you, soft sobs shaking your weak form. Ellie deserved… everything good out of life. The purest forms of happiness were destined in her path, and you took it away. You took everything from her, and all you could do was watch what she’s become. What you caused. 

The more you cried, the more disgusted she seemed, eyes growing darker. 

She pounced on you in seconds, nails grasping your bunched sweatshirt and sharp tail tip prepped to end you right then and there, speckles of spit splattering on your face due to her shouts. 

“DON'T!” The dying world around you shook with the bass of her tone. “Don’t you fucking dare!” 

You didn’t fight. You allowed her to berate you, call you every vile name in the book, and digested her wishes of you dying instead of her. Every scream slammed into your chest; you merely laid there, ready to die with love in your chest. 

I love you… I love you… I love you… 

“FUCK YOU, YOU LYING BITCH! FUCK YOU! YOU FUCKING DID THIS TO ME! I’M GONNA KILL YOU— “

Bloody streams fall from Ellie’s eyes, the veins in her head changing from maroon to coal, the veins in her arms darkening as her voice deepened, razorous teeth baring. She sobbed and screamed from above you, wailing how much she hated you. You’re numb. 

The venom from her tail was discharging from the tip. It’s time; it’s your last day alive. You nodded to yourself. You deserve this; You’re ready. You hope your siblings aren’t too saddened by your disappearance. 

Is this the final stage of grief? Your body is lax and accepting, heavy droplets leaving your eyes when they shut. 

I love you… I’m sorry… I love you… 

Another sharp prick went through your shoulder, and darkness enclosed around you. 

JUNIOR YEAR: 2012

You’re such a dork!

Ellie swears her heart is going to grow legs and crawl up her throat in the next thirty seconds if you keep staring at her like that. She's projecting; She’s the dork!

The few shots she took at the lake were wearing off, and her nerves were finally catching up to her. She was surrounded by your pillows, your stuffies, your scent; she could barely swallow, her throat was so dry. 

You love me. 

She does. Ellie never acted on her swiftly developed crush; she’s not built for rejection, especially from you. The smile on your face was so bright; your joy was so apparent whenever she was around. She hoped her own happiness reflected the same way; Please love me back! Please please please—

Her heart exploded, sewed itself back together, only to explode again when your hand came up, fingertips barely grazing her cheek. She’s going to faint; your touch was so soft. Was she crazy to compare the feel of your hands to rose petals? She tried to keep her nuzzles subtle, pushing her face closer to your hand; Is this how cats feel when they want cuddles? 

You proceeded to explore her face in silent adoration, and she did the same, memorizing every detail she could. The moles on your face were lined like stars. 

She scooted closer to give you more access to her now burning skin, and you kissed her. Ellie was stunned, body stiff; she didn’t have a chance to kiss you back before you pulled away. The scent of alcohol was pouring from you, and Ellie snapped back to reality. 

You’re drunk. You kissed her and you’re drunk. 

You’re probably not going to remember the entire night when you wake the next morning. Ellie’s eyes nervously searched your now downcast face. Say something, you coward! 

But you spoke first. 

You love me, right? 

More than anything, Ellie wanted to scream, not caring if your parents woke up and kicked her out. But she couldn’t. Her brain was moving a million miles a minute, trying to find the words that would satisfy her feelings, but they were too strong. She’s in too deep; Words aren’t enough. 

But you look broken and your body’s tense. She’s putting you on edge and she hates herself for it. 

Do you love me? Your begging tone snapped her out of her head. 

Of course I do, she gasped, mouth gaping like a fish. 

More than anything! More than anything! I love you! 

You only nodded, relaxed back into her, and shut your eyes. 

Ellie went to sleep with a terrible feeling in her stomach, but she held you anyway. 

Ellie’s weight crushed you as she sobbed into your neck, her cries loud and guttural, the sharp puncture of her horn pressing into the plush of your cheek. Her curses grew weak and quiet, mumbles of I fucking hate you cementing into your skin. 

You simply laid beneath her, unmoving and stunned wordless at the memory — the truth that Ellie exposed to you. Her body jerked on yours as she wailed. 

You hardly noticed the fresh tears rolling down your face. You sniffed, “Ellie…”

She sobbed, her head shaking dismissively. 

“Ellie… Look at me…” You couldn’t move. 

“Fuck you,” her choked murmur was hushed. 

A sad smile grew on your face. 

“Almost did…” 

Ellie sniffed harshly against the burnt skin on your neck, almost touching your bloody shoulder, “What.” She mumbled flatly. 

“Y’know… you almost did fuck me.” 

Some silence passed before a wet snort came from below you. Your grin widened. 

Ellie’s shoulders shook slightly as she snickered into your neck, arching hers slightly to look at you. 

“I should kill you for that, you cunt. You’re not funny.” 

Your body jerked with laughter, and you grimaced at the pain in your shoulder. “That's what you get.” Ellie sat up straight, smile slowly dissipating, eyes glossing over. 

The light moment between you shifted, and sorrow weighed you down like bricks. 

“I fucking loved you,” Ellie whispered harshly. “I wanted you to be happy. And you didn’t fucking care.” Anger was radiating off her, but the dread in her eyes was more telling. “You were… everything to me.” 

The wounds in your heart were overflowing; your efforts of repairing your heart were proved pointless, blood and love and suffering filling your chest to the brim. Quiet sobs were shared between the two of you.

“Please k-kiss me,” Ellie’s eyes squeezed shut at your hushed proposal. 

“Just one more. You can do whatever you want… just one last time.” 

You sat up slowly, ignoring the deep aches in your side, your trembling hands cautiously raising to cup Ellie’s frosty cheeks. 

Her face is so close; her lips are right there… just one more, just one—

Ellie’s eyes traveled across your face, lust and years of longing flooding in her tears. Her eyes shut and she leaned forward, her cold lips melding against yours. The kiss was gentle, your eyes squeezing shut as you cried, your tears transferring onto her cheeks. 

Ellie’s hushed tone filled your head. 

I wish I hated you. 

You choked a sob, arms wrapping around her hips to pull her closer, her arms enclosing around your neck, the kiss growing hotter. You needed her closer; so much closer. 

Her tongue slid past your mouth, the split muscle messily flicking over yours as her hips bucked down. You heard loud tears of cloth coming from behind you as Ellie shredded your sweatshirt with her claws, discarding the fabric on the dark heaps of grass. 

She sighed into your mouth when you laid her back onto the grass soaking, crawling on top of her. Her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you down to reconnect your mouths, her fangs cutting into your bottom lip. She sucked the injured skin, humming at the metallic taste; your hips bucked down harder to meet hers, and she whimpered. 

Her hands were freezing as they slid down your bare sides, claws pressing into your hips. You could feel your heart pounding in your throat as you kissed down her neck, soft noises of satisfaction erupting from beneath you. You suckled on her throat, tongue sliding down to her jaw and back up again.

“Can I, fuck, let me do something— “

You moaned in approval, thighs shaking at the sound of her voice, coming back up to press your mouth against hers. 

A heavy gasp left you at the feel of slime dripping onto your thigh. Ellie dug her nails into your hips to steady you, and you whined at the sting. You stared down, entranced at her gleaming eyes, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. 

“Hold still.” Ellie’s whisper was strangely comforting, your body relaxing into hers. The light suck on your thigh made you squeak, chuckles releasing from the girl beneath you. 

“And you’ve been doing this for how long?” you jokingly snarked, voice shaky. 

“Meh, six years, nothing crazy,” she replied, shrugging sarcastically. “Just don’t move.” 

Ellie’s hand moved lower, pressing at the end of your spine to deepen the arch in your back. She shushed your eager whimpers, slowly easing your hips back until your cunt brushed against the serpent-like organ. You shuddered and attempted to jerk away at the strange sensation, but Ellie held you still, snorting to herself. 

A sharp gasp escaped your lips at the feel of its tip swirling at your clit, your head dropping onto Ellie’s shoulder. It took mere seconds for the suction to attack your sensitive clit, pleasured moans huffing from your mouth. Ellie’s mouth was right by your ear, her chilled breaths sending shockwaves down your spine. Your clit throbbed under the pressure: how were you already on the verge of cumming? 

“Feels g-good? Yeah?” 

Your walls were squeezing down harshly, desperate to hug and milk something hot through your orgasm. It takes all your strength to lift your head and kiss Ellie, but she does all the work; licking into your mouth, sucking on your tongue, bruising your lips with every slice of her fang. Every pass of her tongue is a pull in your gut, your clit pulsating with vigor. 

She pulled back, just barely, to whisper how excited she is to fuck you, to turn your pussy out, to make you cry.  Your moans were loud and eager, your head bobbing dumbly in compliance with anything she wanted. You’d give her everything you could in this moment. 

Ellie’s in your head, in your senses, in between your thighs, and you’re losing it. She’s reaching at you, tugging at your body in any way she could: scratching at your tits, pulling your hair, clawing into your skin with intent to scar. You’re sure your back is bloody. Her touch is painful; why does it feel so good? 

Your thoughtless head drops yet again as your orgasm is forced out of you, your walls choking the hot air surrounding the two of you. Your wails are muffled along with Ellie’s spat praises, your hips bucking back for more. The pleasure is almost too much and you’ve barely started; She hasn’t even fucked you yet. 

Your juices are pooling out of you, knowingly making a puddle on Ellie’s tummy, her affirmed moans pulling more and more out of you. Your peak is unrelenting, draining every last bit of energy your body has left. Your limbs gave out, your weight crashing on top of Ellie’s. 

She hastily maneuvered you onto your back, the spines of grass puncturing your skin from beneath you as she climbed on top. 

“Your stamina’s fucked.” 

Her winded snide remarks didn’t bother you; you need her to fuck you. You’re sweaty and desperate to feel her everywhere. She wasted no time, reuniting your mouths in an eager kiss as her hands ventured anywhere they could. Your body’s aching, but for some reason, you crave more. More hurt, more pain; You need her to use you. 

The world around you moved like water; unlike your first dream, the waves brought comfort. Ellie’s touch felt like the ocean washing you away, all with effort to finally bring you peace. 

But it didn’t work. You love her; You deserve pain, and you love her. 

Her mouth is on your tits, biting and sucking at your nipples. It feels so good to have her this close; your body’s wet and ready for her to ravish you. 

Ellie scurried down your body, sat on her knees in between your legs, her hands pressed under yours to hold them up. Your thighs are resting on your chest as Ellie dribbles a line of slobber over your soaking lips. Hums fill the space between you as it slides down, right over your entrance. 

Seconds pass as Ellie stares at your cunt; You call out to her by mistake. 

“What.” 

Fuck. “No-nothing. Sorry.”

“You want something. Say it.” 

You shake your head, and she smiles. Raunchy imagery of her fucking your pussy flash across your mind in an instant, and her grin widens. 

You jolt at the sudden slap on your cunt before Ellie presses your legs even higher, knees almost next to your head. You ignore the aching stretch in your limbs and reach to grab your ass cheeks, holding them open for her. Heat spreads across your face when she moans at the sight. 

Oh fuck, Ellie’s whimpering to herself; whining about how good your pussy’s going to feel, how you’re going to swallow her whole, choke her out. Juices are oozing from your cunt with each jerk of your walls. 

A tentacle emerges from the ground, and Ellie’s expression darkens. It’s lecherous; the way she eyes your pussy as the organ slivers closer to your entrance. You couldn’t hold your moans in anticipation of the stretch. It’s right there, swelling and twitching. 

Your head falls back against the sopping grass when your hole grasps the wide, leaking tip, eyes rolling into your head as Ellie’s moans ring deep in your skull. The tentacle is practically melting between your walls as they spasm. 

Ellie’s so loud above you, completely hunched over your form as her body shudders, her lip trapped between her sharp teeth. They must’ve pierced the skin, a thin trail of black liquid dripping all the way down her neck. 

You take it so fuckin’ good, Ellie’s slurring, tongue swelled in her mouth. You’re already peaking, your legs attempting to slam shut at the tight hug of your walls. The organ is suddenly swelling, walls stretching around the girth to trap it as deep as it can go. Tears are running down your face, groans of Ellie’s name melding with your harsh breaths. 

Seconds pass, and the tentacle’s shooting inside, and your head goes blank, your orgasm slamming into you. You're silent as it wrings your body. The intensity is almost painful, like it’s being forced from your body and your cunt’s drained dry: it’s hot inside you where the fluid pools, and your walls are sucking it deeper. 

You didn’t register Ellie falling forward, her body convulsing on yours, screams of how good your cunt is leaving her in a flurry. Her words are gritted and deep and her nails are in your bicep, but the pain only makes you cum harder. 

It’s been minutes, and you’re deadweight, walls twitching around the still jerking organ planted deep inside your guts. No time to recover, though; Ellie’s pulling out, a nasty sound echoing at her departure as cum seeps — drenches the grass under you. It’s never-ending and sticky and you need more. 

Ellie’s already up and moving you onto your stomach, your cheek pressed against the dirt. She’s hasty, spitting on your cunt with a fiery just a dumb slut, huh? You nod, squeezing your walls to push more cum out. There are heavy suctions on your back, forcing blood to the surface at the curve of your spine. Followed by a sharp stabbing on your ass cheek. 

Ellie’s mouth is on your supple skin, and the blood in your ass rushes to the surface. Her fangs are locked into you as she empties the veins in your ass. 

You couldn’t even scream, eyes squeezing shut at the searing pain as your walls release more cum. Ellie hums: another bite. More blood’s leaving you, being sucked from your ass, your thighs, the end of your spine, but it’s not enough. You need more. Ellie’s draining you but it’s not nearly enough. 

Another tentacle presses in once more, and your vision’s blurring; there’s another tentacle sucking at your ass, your eyes crossing at the stimulation of both your holes. Ellie’s nails are breaking the skin of your back, dribbles of blood sliding down your sides and into the dirt. You love her and you love it; everything feels so warm and full and good. 

Ellie’s chides are making you wetter; your thighs won’t stop shaking, she sounds so sexy. Every shockwave in your brain is memorizing every word, every syllable. She's babbling about how she might spare, keep you trapped here forever so she can drain your blood through your pussy, suck you dry, and it gets you there again. 

Ellie — m’cu—cumming!

You don’t know what you’re saying; voice muffled against the dirt, tears and snot running down your face while you squeal like a pig. Ellie’s calling you one as you squirt on her, just a dumb, worthless pocketpussy; The smile on your face is stupid as your walls drain her while she throbs inside you. You’re so stuffed with her cum already, but you need more inside you. You feel so fucking good and the pleasure won’t seize. 

It picks up again as the thrusts get faster, hitting you deeper, just where you need it. You don’t get to recover before you’re slung into another mind-numbing orgasm, your body wracking without rest. Ellie’s massaging every spot that makes your spine break, dirt collecting under your nails as they puncture the ground. Your groans are cracking in your throat; You can’t even swallow. 

The tentacle’s swelling again, and Ellie’s hand is on the back of your head, pressing your cheek against the grass, nails scratching at your scalp as you beg for her cum. Her moans are picking up again, demanding that you beg some more, that you fucking cry for it, be a good girl a bleed for me. And you do. 

As messily as you can; slobber pooling at your mouth as you sob and choke for her cum, eyes crossed in your skull as your tongue lolls, and Ellie’s shooting in you again, stuffing you to the brim as she cries your name from behind, grunts leaving her with each rope of cum seeps in your womb. 

Your pussy’s melting around her when the sucking at your ass pauses, only to push in the incredibly tight space, to stretch your virgin hole open around its girth. It should hurt, having both holes filled to such a wild degree, but it doesn’t. Your weak arm is reaching behind, desperately grabbing at Ellie. You expect her to smack you away, to hit you, to slice your hand clean off your wrist, but she doesn’t; You almost miss the light touch, her pinky lacing with yours. 

You’re joyous, head dropping as you sob from pleasure and happiness, heart filled with a love that you never thought you’d feel again. 

She’s drilling your ass, fucking you so hard and good as she holds your smallest finger with hers, kissing down your bloody back, licking up the scarlet that leaks from your skin. Suddenly, another tentacle — much smaller than the ones tearing your holes up — emerges from the ground, right in front of your face, its juices leaking onto your cheeks. 

It wiggles in front of your open mouth before shoving in; the taste is salty and metallic, but your lips work it, sucking and licking all around the length. You feel so filthy and it’s making your tummy tug, another orgasm building in your pussy and ass. It’s going to shatter you completely from its strength, you can feel it. 

Your body’s aching for more cum; you’re surprised it’s not coming spilling from your throat and onto the appendage in your mouth. But Ellie’s close, every whisper becoming more frantic as she rides that edge. 

You’re mine, she whispers in your ear, Fucking mine, you understand? You’re not going anywhere. 

You get it, you get it! You’re never leaving her again. Fuck everything you’ve built for yourself! Your life is pointless without Ellie next to you. You’re going to cum so hard for her. 

Your body’s hers; Your heart is hers; your soul is hers. You love her, you love her! 

Baby likes that? I own this fucking pussy? 

She knows she does: whispers so gross and conniving and you’re twitching under her. You’re babbling around the swelling appendage, telling her — screaming that you belong to her, you always have. You always will! 

You feel her teeth as she grins madly in satisfaction, sloppily mumbling mine mine s’ my pussy against your skin as she swells inside you. You’re stretching, gaping around her and you snap, head planting into the dirt. Both sets of walls clamp down sporadically around the large digits between them, the tentacle slipping from your mouth as you scream. 

Ellie’s exploding inside both holes, the tentacle above you spraying all over your face, heavy globs of cum landing in your hair, the back of your neck, splattering on your mouth, anywhere it could reach. Juices are spraying from between you, and Ellie falls forward, her freezing chest on your back as she jerks on top of you. Hearing her just as destroyed from the pleasure sends another surge of euphoria through you, somehow stronger than the first. 

You can barely take it, but Ellie makes you, continues flooding your holes until they’re overflowing and sticky. You’re both sent to another plane as you convulse together, her pinky still locked with yours as you lose consciousness. 

When you wake, there’s warmth. 

You’re still filled to the brim with cum, but your form is blanketed. Small, tired huffs hit your back as Ellie shivers on top of you, barely audible noises alerting her satisfaction. You smile. 

You can't move; all your strength is used to wiggle the cramped muscle of your interlocked finger. Tears well in your eyes when Ellie’s finger hugs yours tighter with every small movement. 

Ellie’s the blanket; Ellie’s warm. 

Suddenly, everything around you is pink, the formerly empty spaces in your heart filled with affection. You missed Ellie so much; You’re finally reunited, and in love. You can’t stop smiling, and neither can she. 

—

—

—

‘BREAKING NEWS: BAKERY OWNER FOUND DECAPITATED IN MOTEL BED’

Today marks one of the most heart-wrenching, horrifying days that our community has ever seen, the local reporter stated. We have never witnessed a case end this disastrous. 

To the loved ones of this individual, we share our deepest condolences. The victim made such a large impact on our tiny town with her small business. Nobody… the reporter sighed, Nobody could’ve seen this coming. 

Please be on the lookout for any updates regarding the suspect. Investigators are putting as much effort into this case as they can. Police suggest staying indoors with your loved ones this holiday until further instructions. 

May God be with her family. Have a blessed night. 

idk how to use picsart sorry yall LOL

taggiesss ily thank u 4 being patient :D :

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[nxrrislando]

SNOW ANGEL ೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 c.leclerc

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 — ᝰ.ᐟ SMAU

PLOT ━━･❪ When he embarrasses himself in front of a ski instructor and even after laughing in his face, he still takes a liking to her: only to discover she’s the cousin of another driver ❫

WARNINGS ━━･❪ everything written is fake and for the purpose of entertainment, mature language, not proofread ❫

key info - anything with ‘ ❀ ’ means speech is in french as it makes more sense for two people who both speak french to communicate in their native language rather than in the second language of english, however I speak no french and would be unable to translate mass amounts of text, will be translating smaller parts tho with an app so translations may be wrong!!

my fics

( INSTAGRAM POST — JANUARY, 2024 )

yourusername

uploaded a post — 4h ago

liked by yourbestfriend, pierregasly and 234 others

yourusername noël à la maison, retour au travail🤍

view all 61 comments

francisca.cgomes the prettiest instructor 🫶🏻

yourusername love you kika, visit soon xx

username I wish this was my life bro

username did you have a good Christmas break?

yourusername I did thank you, hope you did too pretty💞

username idk who you are, why you accepted my follow request, why you’re followed by an f1 driver and his girlfriend BUT im glad you did your feed is unreal

( IMESSAGE — JANUARY, 2024 )

pierre🫡

1 new notification — 16s ago

❀

( TWITTER — JANUARY, 2024 )

astonsainz

published a tweet — 2h ago

( INSTAGRAM STORY — JANUARY, 2024 )

yourusername

posted on their story — 1h ago

viewed by pierregasly, and 379 others replies to your story

yourbestfriend hmm?

| yourusername laisse-moi tranquille

username laughing in that poor persons face is cruel yn.

| yourusername I laugh at everyone falling over can’t help it it’s funny

❀

pierregasly pretty sure it was Charles

| yourusername who?

| pierregasly charles leclerc. F1 driver, you know the sport your cousin takes part in…the guy I said was skiing? | yourusername you never told me which driver and now you just put his first name am I supposed to be psychic

| pierregasly anyway he texted me a little ago saying he just experienced something embarrassing, I’m assuming it was this

| yourusername well if he was surrounded by several people who looked panicked when he fell then probably

| pierregasly yeah it was him I just described what you put on your story to him and he asked if i was stalking him

| yourusername whoops tell him I’m sorry was just a funny situation😭

| pierregasly tell him yourself i gave him your number

| yourusername wtf pierre you can’t just give random people my number

| pierregasly he’s not random he’s my friend and coworker

| yourusername and now he’s requested me on instagram, why’d you give him that as well

| pierregasly I didn’t give him your Instagram, that’s all him stalking my followers to find you

| yourusername oh?

charlesleclerc is now following you !

( IMESSAGE — JANUARY, 2024 )

unknown

1 new notification — 9m ago

❀

( INSTAGRAM STORY — JANUARY, 2024 )

charlesleclerc

posted on their story — 3h ago

viewed by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 1, 348,991 others replies to your story

username oh to ski into the sunrise with charles leclerc

username where’s the rest of your team?

pierregasly Tu t'amuses avec ma cousine ?

| charlesleclerc tu n'as rien vu

yourusername J'ai passé un très bon moment | charlesleclerc demain à la même heure ?

yourusername

posted on their instagram — 2h ago

viewed by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes and 299 others replies to your story

francisca.cgomes pierre just said and I quote “what have I done?” I think you guys are cute personally

| yourusername he’s such an idiot it’s his fault anyway, thanks… but I don’t think we’ll get far cause he’s an f1 driver and I work 7 days a week at a ski resort till mid spring, we don’t have a lot of time together after this

| francisca.cgomes i think you’ll cross paths again before you know it, especially if you come to some races with me

| yourusername maybe idk

( INSTAGRAM POST — FEBUARY, 2024 )

charlesleclerc

uploaded a post — 4h ago

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 1,421,216 others

charlesleclerc will miss falling and the laughter that follows🗻

view all 3,677 comments

username the last photo? the caption? someone’s in loveeeee

username don’t say that he’s only in love with me username @ username confidence gave you delusions huh

username whos the girl?

username asking the real questions here

username my man is so pretty

username pre season training turned into spending time with this girl really?

username hes a grown man, he can do both not that it’s our business

pierregasly 🤔

charlesleclerc 😊 username pierre you know something tell us username who is she what’s going on

( IMESSAGE — JANUARY, 2024 )

charles

0 new notifications — 0s ago

❀

( INSTAGRAM STORY — MAY, 2024 )

yourusername

posted on their story — 23h ago

viewed by charlesleclerc, francisca.cgomes and 307 others replies to your story

❀

charlesleclerc I’ll be there to pick you up when you land, it’ll be really nice to see you not just over a phone screen

| yourusername awww that’s so sweet I told you you didn’t have to tho you’ve got a busy weekend coming up with your home Grand Prix I just want to be here to support you that’s all

| charlesleclerc I didn’t have to, I wanted to yn

| yourusername thank you charlie🤍

username oh to be able to afford wifi on the plane (I have like 50p to my name)😞

❀

yourbestfriend if you don’t come back to France as his girlfriend me and him are going to be having words

| yourusername woah ok slow down, we don’t even know if we could make it work for the past 3 months we’ve just been talking over facetime and that’s been harder with our schedules than I thought it would be

| yourbestfriend girl anyone with eyes can see you’re obsessed with each other, you two would do everything to make it work based off that alone, don’t let it hold you back

yourusername

posted on their story — 7h ago

viewed by yourbestfriend, francisca.cgomes and 314 others replies to your story

username um hello?? are you watching pierre race??

username are you dating Charles leclerc? I know we haven’t spoken in a while but the internet is going ballistic over a girl in his garage that looks suspiciously like you, just confused thought you’d be in Pierre’s garage if I’m honest

❀

yourbestfriend uh social media is going crazy people are discovering your Pierre’s cousin and believe you’re dating charles

| yourusername i can tell my follow requests are going insane, I knew it would come eventually especially since I’m his girlfriend

| yourbestfriend WHAT?! GIRLFRIEND when did that happen

| yourusername he took me one a date last night and asked me🫣

yourusername

posted on their story — 2h ago

viewed by yourbestfriend, francisca.cgomes and 366 others replies to your story

pierregasly you are welcome, if he breaks your heart I break him

| yourusername please you could never you’re too much of a softy

| pierregasly watch me. he tries anything and I swerve him off the track

| yourusername he’s reading over my shoulder and staring blankly at your threats

username um who is this??

username we all know it’s Charles a series of photos were leaked like two hours ago of you to holding hands, him kissing your forehead etc.

( INSTAGRAM POST — JUNE, 2024 )

charlesleclerc

uploaded a post — 3h ago

liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 1,887,911 others

charlesleclerc mon ange de neige

view all 6,788 comments

username there’s no snow?

username lol that was my thought but apparently they met because she laughed at him when he fell when skiing and the he discovered she was Pierre’s cousin who worked as a ski instructor, the nickname is probably related to that

yourusername mon amour🌸

liked by author !

username accept my follow request please username you’re so pretty wtf

pierregasly Vous me rendez malade tous les deux

yourusername shush charlesleclerc 😘

username CALLED IT WHEN HE POSTED HER SKIING WITH HIM

username down bad

username after like a month if soft launching he’s only gone and done it🙏🏽

username the way he’s obsessed with her, it’s so cute

@edwardslvrr🫶🏽

#f1 fanfic #formula one #f1 #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader

[finelinevogue]

pancakes for two

summary - seeing your niece for the first time

word count - ~1k

pairing - husband!harry x reader

You made pancakes for breakfast on a Saturday.

It was a routine at this point and would be rude not to have pancakes after your morning jog with Harry.

Harry tended to make himself banana pancakes, because he hated not having some fruit in there somehow, but you were all for the nutella and other loaded toppings.

You had both just finished your pancakes, dirty plates on the coffee table in front of you and cups of tea to hand as you watched ‘This Morning’ on ITV.

Even after having been on a run and eaten pancakes, your day was about to get so much better.

“Remind me that I need to pick up more loo roll the next time I go to the shops.” You said to Harry.

“Thought we bought loads?”

His free hand rested on your ankle from where your legs were stretched out on his lap.

“Yeah, but we gave a lot to Gem remember?”

“Oh shit, yes. We can go later if you want? I’ll take you?” He offered.

“The last thing I want to do is leave the house on the one day where you’re not busy preparing for baby number 4.” You laughed, taking a sip of your Yorkshire Gold tea.

“Baby number 4?” It was Harry’s turn to chuckle.

“Album? Baby? Same thing. They’re all your children.”

He tapped your ankle playfully.

Harry had been working so hard on planning for the next phase of his career and you were so happy to see him get excited and creative again.

Music is where he thrived and it was a joy to watch him work. However it did mean he was gone more than you wanted him to be, so quiet weekends like this were absolutely necessary.

Harry missed you just as much and he was constantly lucky that it was you waiting for him at home.

He’d been working so hard that he hadn’t even had a moment to see his sister since she gave birth.

It was only a week ago, but Gemma was still recovering and requested that the three of them just had some quiet time to let the new reality to settle in.

Now, Harry was restless to see his niece.

You scrolled through your phone when it suddenly made a Ring doorbell noise.

“Yes! I bet that’s my Waterstones parcel.” You said excitedly, sitting up and setting your tea on the coffee table.

“Another one?”

You hit Harry’s thigh playfully, “Shut up!” Although he did have a valid point.

You waited for the doorbell to ring, before jumping up and making your way to the front. You made a note to shout at Harry for - yet again - leaving his coat on the banister and not put back on coat rack.

You unlocked and opened the door, expecting the delivery guy but were met with Gemma, Michal and baby instead.

“Oh my God!” You shouted, cupping your hands over your mouth in shock.

“Surprise!” Gemma laughed, baby carrier on Michal’s arm and baby bags too.

You started tearing up then, emotional over how beautiful Gemma was after recently giving birth. She was glowing and looked incredible. They both looked so happy too.

“Y/N/N?” Harry called your nickname.

He rounded the corner only to stop short.

“Look who showed up.” You allowed the tears to drop down your face.

“Hey, bro.” Gemma smiled.

“Hi, H!” Michal smiled at Gemma’s smile.

Harry, ever the emotional man, broke down in little sobs then. He pouted when he cried and probably had the same thoughts as you initially did.

“Come in. Come on.” You ushered them in.

You gave Gemma a big hug first, squeezing her but not too tight, and kissed her cheeks.

Then you hugged Michal, careful to avoid all his extra baggage.

“How are you?” You asked Michal, as Gemma went over to speak and probably console Harry.

“Tired, but never been happier.” He genuinely smiled.

“Can I take anything from you?”

“No, I’m just going to dump them here if that’s okay?” He motioned to the space in the hall.

“Of course, go ahead.”

“You want a tea? Coffee?” You offered.

“Coffee, please. No sugar. Gem will probably just have water.”

You nodded and walked through the hallway and into the kitchen. Gemma and Harry were still hugging, softly talking to one another. You left them to it, not wanting to disrupt the siblings reunion.

You wiped your own tears with your sweater, before pottering around the kitchen.

“So let me see my niece then!” You demanded as Michal placed the carrier on the kitchen island.

He opened the visor and you had to choke back a sob as you saw how small your new niece was - your new best friend.

“Oh my God.” You whispered.

“I know. I keep having the same reaction, even now.” Michal chuckled.

Gemma and Harry walked in a few seconds later - Harry with red eyes and Gemma smiling like a madwoman.

You leaned forwards and brushed your finger over your nieces tiny bunched fist. Her skin was so soft and she didn’t budge at all with the tap from you.

“She’s beautiful, guys.” You whispered.

“She really is.” Gemma agreed.

“She’s a Styles if I ever saw one. No offence Michal.”

“None taken.” Michal genuinely didn’t seem offended.

You stepped back to let Harry have a gaze over his new niece, wrapped in her blankets and knitted bonnets. There were so many blankets you wondered whether she was cooking underneath them all!

It wasn’t your turn to know anything about kids or parenting though, yet, so you weren’t going to question anything.

Harry approached his niece and softly caressed over her small hand and over her quite chubby cheeks.

You cupped a hand over your mouth as you teared up from watching Harry interact with a baby.

“It’s too much!” You cried, laughing like an idiot.

Gemma and Michal watched you with soft expressions.

Harry moved towards you then, “Hey. What’s up?” He asked, pulling you in for a big hug. The best hugs.

“I think i’ve got a heavy case of baby fever right now.”

Harry pulled you away a bit to read your face, “You do?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay.” He smiled.

“Okay, what?” You stepped back.

“Let’s try. For a baby, I mean.”

“Really?” You eyes filled with tears. “You mean it?”

“A baby with you? It would make all those birthday and shooting star wishes come true.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fan fic

[forbidden-sunlight]

yandere! literary agent with fem!reader scenario [part two]

warnings: implication of obsessive thoughts or love.

There might be potential triggers in this story. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant.

You are responsible for your Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome back to the second installment of this scenario, featuring Yulian Prescott. I'd like to give a big shout-out to my dear friend @deathmetalunicorn1 who helped me write this finale.

As always, bullying on here will not be tolerated. If it does happen, this series will be taken down.

With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's dive back into the cutthroat world of publishing.

Part One

The press conference went as expected. 

Everyone wanted to know who accused best-selling author Abigail Crowley of plagiarism, where is the evidence to prove that an unidentified individual is the one who really wrote The Darkness and The Nightingale, and why are the representatives of the publishing company are now just finding out about it less than a month before its release date. Yandere!Literary Agent is good at his job, at least when it comes to standing in front of flashing cameras and phones shoved in his face, asking for a statement. He answered the journalists who patiently raised their hands and disregarded the ones who kept interrupting with asinine questions that had nothing to do with the subject of the press conference whatsoever. Yes, he had been contacted by the true writer. No, he will not give out a name to respect their privacy. Yes, there is evidence and it will be presented to a judge, should Abigail Crowley wishes to take Sailboat Publishing House to court and fight back against the claims. No, the printing date will not be changed. He is currently with the writer on revisions and he will not take any more questions at this time. Please speak to the company’s PR representative, Ms. Isley, for a formal interview. That is it for today. 

The world now knows the truth. Social media was going to be a proverbial shitstorm; one side will defend Abigail Crowley and say she is the true author as she is still a great writer, and there will be people who speak trash to her out of spite for whatever reason. Some will even try to track you down online and harass you for days on end. Yandere!Literary Agent just hoped that you meant what you said about not being online anymore because of politics. 

In any case, the projected million copies to be sold would have to decrease significantly. You told him over the phone that you didn’t mind, commenting that at least 100,000 should be a tidy enough number and he would still get his commission. He didn't have to worry about the fees since Abigail is going to pay for those, or fight back. That was the ultimatum Yandere!Literary Agent and the board members gave it to her almost a week ago. 

It was six-thirty in the evening when he told you about what had happened. He was still in the office finishing up a few things, and he had you on speaker mode while he typed away at his desk. You were typing too, working on the revisions and thanking the universe that you had a digital copy of your manuscript on file too, so the task he had given you made things a little easier. So did taking two weeks off of work. But the way you saw it, the PTO either had to be used now, or it wouldn’t be rolled over because you had too much PTO. Yes, that can definitely happen in your career field because you need the hours to pay for bills and essentially being alive. You were making good progress and hoped that you didn’t need to pull another all-nighter just to finish up these edits on page 159. 

You were diligent, Yandere!Literary Agent will give you that much. He reminded you of the deadline. You told him to focus on his work, and he’ll have a pristine manuscript in his inbox. Please stop the daily phone calls and text messages, he was putting the pressure on you. This is why you did not want to become an author. 

He contacted you on Friday night about the press conference. The following week, an email titled The Darkness and the Nightingale - final edits popped up as soon he opened his computer on Thursday morning. 

It’s done. Contact me only if there are edits that must absolutely be changed. Going to sleep. Night. 

[First Name]

The manuscript had been sent to him at three o’clock in the morning. You had really cut it close but it was here. The story was finished. He quickly opened up the document. He looked over the edits, compared it to what was written before….and nodded in affirmation. Yes. Yandere!Literary Agent thought as he looked over the words, your words, with a small smile, leaning back against his leather chair. This is a story that will sell. 

Yandere!Literary Agent placed the manuscript on a flash drive, arranged a meeting with the printing companies and sent you three options for the cover art and needed a response as soon as you were able to. All in all, everything had turned out. A week before the release date arrived, The Darkness and The Nightingale were loaded into trucks to be sold in bookstores across the  country.  

One task done. Now to move onto the next project. 

He deleted your contact info. He had no reason to keep it, at least on his phone. Email was enough. Sure enough, another client sent him a pitch for a new trilogy that would act as the prequel to the original ones that were already popular with young adults, and Yandere!Literary Agent dove head first into it. He hadn’t realized that a month had passed since The Darkness and The Nightingale had been published. This is what usually happens when he concentrates solely on one client. A bad habit, yes, but as he has mentioned beforehand, he is good at his job. 

No news yet in regards to Abigail Crowley, the plagiarism issue was dying down in favor of a startlet’s drug overdose, and there was a meeting on Monday to discuss sales. Another win-win for Yulian Prescott, the man who had single-handedly saved the company from going under. But on Friday afternoon, Yandere!Literary Agent received an email from the printing companies and PR department, concerning the sales of your book. Flummoxed, and a little worried that the number of copies unsold outweighed what was printed, he opened the email. 

He blinked. And then blinked again before removing his glasses, giving them a good cleaning and placing them back onto his face. He re-read the email again, his eyes growing wider and wider. This wasn’t about copies that weren’t sold….it was a request from five hundred different printing companies to print your book. The demand wasn’t isolated to the States. There were demands from all over the world! 

Unlocking his phone, he swiped over to TikTok, searched for Booktok and looked at the trending topics. There were reels, memes, and reactions about your book. There were people quoting about your book, reenactments of certain scenes, before and after reactions, etc. Of course there were some who didn’t believe that you wrote it, thinking you stole it from Abigail, but that was beside the point. 

Your first book had taken the world by storm, and he hadn’t even considered this possibility because it has only happened a few times with Sailboat Publishing. He should have negotiated a higher number of books with you! But that was then, this is now. 

He quickly opened a new message on his email, attaching the email he had gotten, inquiring you to see what he has seen and if you would allow more copies to be published. His schedule is open, so please answer when you get a chance.  He received an email from you a few hours later, stating the following:

 I work twelve hour shifts on weekdays and only have weekends to get my life together. Why do we need to discuss numbers? I already received the advanced copy. Were you trying to send an attachment? It didn’t go through. Wi-Fi was down until now. 

[First Name]

Yandere!Literary Agent immediately responded, asking if you would like to meet up later today if that was possible. You said that you were still out running a few errands, but could meet him at Sally’s Diner or a Starbucks.  Both places were located halfway between his office and your home, at least the ones you knew about. If he wasn’t at work today, where else did he want to meet? You don’t want to travel too far, and you’d like to take a nap before it gets too late in the day. He had to fight off the smile that was threatening to stretch across his mouth. Cheeky. He thought. He already had a light lunch, but he wasn’t opposed to getting a mid-afternoon pickup. When he offered to pay for your drink and a pastry of your choice, you responded that you would meet him there in an hour. 

It gave plenty of time to gather what he needed to speak to you about the current situation. 

He met you outside of the building at the allotted time, enjoying a light breeze before following you inside, holding the door open for you and a mother-daughter duo exiting with Strawberry Acai Refreshers in their hands. 

Once the orders were placed under his name, Yandere!Literary Agent led you to the back of the cafe and sat down at one of the small tables. You followed suit, hooking the straps of your backpack on the back of your chair.  “Did you read the attachment?” He asked. 

You nodded. “I did. But….you’re absolutely sure the numbers are right, the ones you’ve shown me? Because if this is your idea of a joke, I swear to God -”

Yulian held up a hand in the air, stopping you from saying anything else.

"Believe me I thought the same thing when I first opened it, but this is no joke, [First Name]. Publishing companies from around the world have reached out, requesting mass publications in at least fifteen different languages, at the moment. And according to the PR team, more keep coming. Your work has gone global, [First Name], and more people are wanting to read it." 

You looked at him in utter disbelief, leaning back against the chair with wide [Eye Color] orbs. Before you could ask him any more questions, the barista called out for Yulian. 

Yandere!Literary Agent stood up, collecting the drinks and pastry and returning to his seat. Placing them down on the table, he gave yours, and put his black coffee to the side so that he could boot up his laptop. He pulled up the reprint requests so you could see it for yourself. The proof that you are a successful writer. You stared at the screen for a moment until you glanced back up at him.

“Why is it so successful? I thought the reason we agreed on a small number of copies to be printed was because of the plagiarism scandal. There’s been nothing on the news about it lately, or about Abigail.” 

Yulian smiled. “Because you are a brilliant writer. While we did agree on a small account of copies to be printed, there’s high praise on social media. Everyone is clamoring to read it, hence why the demand is greater than anyone could have anticipated, myself included.” He folded his hands together, elbows pressing against the table. “Now, regarding the…situation with Ms. Crowley, the legal team still has the materials you had shown to me; the receipts from Etsy, the Google Docs, they all have timestamps. So even if she wishes to take it to court, no one can deny that she did indeed steal your work because you created this masterpiece while she was working on another series. And before you say anything, your personal information has and will not be released.”

You nodded slowly at his words, your shoulders dropping in relief before reaching for your beverage, taking a languid sip from the cup. Then another, obviously relishing the effect of caffeine giving your body that much needed energy boost. Yandere! Literary Agent knew the feeling all too well. 

“Now, how many copies will you allow us to reprint?”

“What are the fees that will come with doing this kind of job?” You fired back. “If there is a global demand like you say there is, then someone will need to translate it. Not to mention there are different cover designs, marketing, all of that fun stuff. Will the royalties, if I am to receive any, be deducted to cover the cost? I do not want to get myself into any more debt that I already have.”

Yandere!Literary Agent pulled out his laptop from his messenger bag, pulling up the spreadsheets that the publishing and financing departments had created earlier in the week. The information included fees for translating, reprinting,  and international shipping based on demand. On the very bottom of the last spreadsheet would be your net income. 

He had no doubt that this amount of money would allow you to be debt-free and live comfortably…at least until you could write another book. Then he saw the confusion, panic, excitement and anxiety swirling in your irises. The mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. Yandere!Literary Agent had seen that stupefied look more than once. It was the expression of someone who had not expected to receive such a big paycheck, at least until he had kindly explained that there were some fees which needed to be paid, which would be deducted from the royalties. With you, it seemed like he did not have to hold your hand and explain how the business of publishing went, word for word. 

Which is why he was quite surprised to see you suddenly standing up, grabbing your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder. “Where are you going?” He asked, watching you push in the chair.

“I’m leaving.”

“But you still haven’t decided on a number of copies for us to reprint!”

“I’m sorry, but I am not liking where this conversation is headed. As I mentioned before, I write for fun. This isn’t about the money, and I have no desire whatsoever to be your next cash cow.  Can’t you decide on a number and call it a day?”

“Not without your consent! That would be in direct violation of our contract, and you wouldn’t be paid for the reprinted copies!” He exclaimed. Yes, he knew that he was acting a bit…childish, but this is a serious matter! How could you even think of walking away from a one-in-a-million opportunity like this? Or even believe that he would use your writing to embellish the company’s reputation further by being the sole representative of an extremely popular, best-selling writer?

Because in the darkest corner of his mind, a nasty voice would gleefully agree with your accusations. This was nothing personal, it was a business. And he would go where there was talent, and money. Not to mention elevate his status even further as a high-in-demand literary agent for one of the biggest publishing companies in the States. 

You raised an eyebrow at him, then leaned forward, putting your hands on the back of the chair.

“Mister Prescott, for a minute, please pretend I am not a client and explain in layman’s terms, why would I be paid for that? As far as I was concerned, once the book is out of my hands, it is your responsibility and how the printing is handled. Or am I wrong?” 

A client. That’s right….you weren’t a client. You were just a hobbyist writer who had your work stolen by one of his clients. But you were still a writer, someone who could create worlds while working godawful shifts back-to-back. So he spoke plainly to you.

While you were not officially his client, your work was still part of Sailboat Publishing, therefore it is his responsibility to ensure that the royalties matched the time and effort you had put in creating The Darkness and The Nightingale. Yes, he had to make sure the quality of the book’s printing were high quality and not a hackneyed rush job just to keep up with the demand. 

Then he said he would be delighted if he could be your official representative…in the near future.

You shook your head. “No need for that. You returned my story to me. After we decide on numbers, I’d say your business with me is done.”

“You don’t want to be an author on the New York Times’ Bestseller List.” It was more of a statement than a question. So why did his heart drop into the pit of his stomach at the thought of never seeing you again once you walk out of the door?

“I’m pretty sure you have more than enough clients to keep yourself busy for a long time.” You said dryly. “You’d drive yourself crazy if you worked with me.”

“And how do you know that it won’t work out?” He challenged you with a small smile. You just gave him an ‘are-you-shitting-me’ frown before releasing a low sigh.

“I still have six more months left on my contract with the hospital. I can’t just quit or I risk having to pay back everything as compensation for breaching it before the end of the contract. I wouldn’t be able to do anything related to the book, like tours and interviews until…sometime next year? No, more like the beginning of next year, like around February. I am starting to outline the concept of another idea I have for a book, a standalone, but I only write on my days off or when I’m on my lunch break. Are you fine with waiting until I send you a query letter and the first fifty pages until next February? Is that too long for your liking?”

Yandere! Literary Agent was not bothered by this proposition. If anything, it worked out perfectly with his schedule. And there is the prospect of you becoming his official client. However, he did not want to push your boundaries any more than he already has for today. Instead, he said that it was fine with him. 

“If you agree to us printing more copies of The Darkness and The Nightingale, then we’ll be all set until next year. Do you want to use the same cover worldwide, or do you want us to come up with some alternative covers for different countries, and send you the designs you like?”

“...Alternative.” You said, pulling back the chair and sitting back down, backpack plopped into the adjacent seat. “Do you have any artists that you recommend, or have portfolios I could look at?”

Decisions were discussed within the next hour, and Yandere!Literary Agent was satisfied with leaving Starbucks with an idea of what his Monday morning is going to look like. But what satisfied him more was the number of copies that he and you agreed on. Fifty-thousand, in each language. 

It was enough to make his heart quicken with excitement. 

Or is he anticipating the momentous day when you signed a contract with Sailboat Publishing and he became your literary agent? Six months might seem like a long time….but he prided himself on being a patient man. 

Knowing he will be the best damned agent for you, because you deserve nothing less, and much more.  

Knowing he will be the only one to read your WIPS, help you become a better writer, protect you from the paparazzi and anyone else who would dare to try to covet you like a trophy. 

Knowing that in the end, all you will have is him. And he will have you, whether you like it or not. 

If Abigail Crowley keeps trying to contact him, pleading that she wasn’t wrong and that she did have a new idea for a book so please read her emails she’s been sending please give her one more chance don’t ruin her life please…he might have to do something about it. 

Noisy dogs need to be fed, right?

©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

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#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere male #yandere #ns.fw #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere! literary agent #tw obsessive love #tw obsessive behavior #cw obsessive behavior #cw obsessive love #tw manipulation #cw manipulation

[miraclewoozi]

DRIVE. - l.c

DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.

pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC.  notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away.  notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!

SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).

You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago. 

Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room. 

Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right. 

You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones. 

It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.

Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.

Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’. 

And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.

In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone. 

Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–

And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name. 

You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over. 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”

His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”

“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”

You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.

In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”

It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry). 

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’

If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen. 

Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –

Clink.

Stupid. Fucking. Stones.

A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.

You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts. 

Black dahlias.

You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)

Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”

He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”

He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end. 

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”

“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”

“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour. 

His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed? 

“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”

“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”

Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.

“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”

“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”

“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”

You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him. 

But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.

All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense. 

“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know. 

Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.

But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans? 

With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.

All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can. 

He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty. 

Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?

You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.

“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it. 

You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away. 

“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”

“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.

He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced. 

But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”

Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there. 

“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”

You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.

“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”

But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”

Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?

“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”

You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”

“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”

He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.

“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”

“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”

“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”

You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since. 

“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”

He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?

Well, tell a lie. 

There is one more. 

“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly. 

You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most. 

You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it. 

Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —

A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits. 

Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask. 

Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through. 

You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.

“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake. 

“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”

“You’re the someone else.”

Oh. 

Oh.

“I’m—?”

“You.”

The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so. 

“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage. 

Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”

“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest. 

“Yes — you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“No, you’re just an idiot.”

“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”

“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning. 

“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on. 

“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”

He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth. 

Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle. 

He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough. 

“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe. 

“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.” 

“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—”  He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”

Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go. 

There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him. 

“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.” 

You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different. 

(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)

Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms. 

It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.

“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice. 

“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”

“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants. 

Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured. 

You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”

And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use. 

“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”

Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again. 

“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”

Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans. 

“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle. 

He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat. 

It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like. 

You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base. 

Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.

“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him. 

He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming. 

You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess. 

He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop. 

“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name. 

Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to. 

“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”

It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.” 

You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the  steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own. 

When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself. 

“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle. 

“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah—”

Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache. 

God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum. 

He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas. 

“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.

“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)

thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3

#dino smut #lee chan smut #dino x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #kpop smut #j writes. #* #this description is ass we're gonna pretend it isnt. ok THANKS bye <3

[mphoenix-7]

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 1: The Mission

Book Summary: John "Soap" MacTavish has hated you since the very first day you arrived on base and joined their Task Force. You argue all the time, and one day, it pushes Captain Price to his absolute limit. He sends you both away to an isolated cabin in the woods for a week in hopes you can put aside your differences and bond. Will it work? Or will you two just end up hating each other even more?

This is a slow burn enemies to lovers fan fiction featuring Soap and you, the reader.

Word Count: 5,585

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Soap is mean, like really mean, smut later to come, rough smut, lots of swearing, violence, descriptive, blood, angst, fluff, slow burn, (more to come as I write)

A/N: Just a reposting of my story on Wattpad to help generate attention for it! Please go give it some love if you’re liking it so far. My user name is Emily7love or just look up the title.

Master List | Next ->

Bitter Allies • Part 1

"Bravo 7-1, this is Bravo 0-7, give me a sit rep on your position, over."

Soap is currently kneeling in some brush, staring at the small military camp in front of him when the radio call comes through. Despite the fact that he'd most likely need to be adjusting the volume up soon on his ear piece, he still turns it down a little for now.

"This is Bravo 7-1, I've been in position. Waiting on 7-4 to move her ass." He all but growls back to Ghost. His hand tenses on his rifle at even saying those numbers. Bravo 7-4.

You were Bravo 7-4. Also known as (y/n) "States" (l/n). The all too grumpy Sergeant by the callsign Bravo 7-1 was John "Soap" MacTavish. Also known as the biggest pain in your ass since you joined up with Captain Price's Task Force about six months ago.

Now anyone who knew Soap would be shocked to hear you say that you thought he was literally the worst and most insufferable human being to ever stain the Earth. To everyone else, Soap was a funny, charismatic, rather easy-going, and quite friendly guy. Everyone loved Soap. He was the golden boy of the Task Force, of the entire base. People were just naturally drawn to him, and his warm personality.

You can't say you blame people for being shocked when they learn just how much you can't stand him. Cause all those things about Soap were true. He was funny, and friendly, and relaxed, and just a great guy to be around. He was all those things when he wasn't around you. The second you stepped into the picture, his amused grin turned into a stiff scowl. His sparkling eyes turned hard. His relaxed posture turned rigid.

Yeah, John "Soap" MacTavish hated you. And you hated him.

Why did he hate you? You weren't entirely sure. It just seemed like it has always been that way since day one.

You transferred into the Task Force at the request of Captain Price himself. Originally, you had been stationed at a military base in the United States, where you were from. Then one day your commanding officer called you into his office and told you that you'd been given a new assignment. You would be working with a British Task Force across the pond for the next year. A group of four SAS men. If things worked out, then you'd be staying there indefinitely.

You'd been thrilled at the news. You didn't join the military only for the benefits and the opportunity to serve, but for the opportunity to travel and to potentially live somewhere else in the world. Getting to be that while also being SAS was the dream. You worked so hard to get to where you were today. Sleepless nights of studying, hard days of working out and trying to improve and hone your skills, and now it was finally happening. You were being sent off to a new base and a new team. And not just any team, an elite task force. You'd finally been selected.

You met the whole team day one of your arrival. The first person you met was Captain John Price. He was a friendly but very stern man. The no nonsense type of guy. He gave you a tour of the base, and showed you to the female barracks. Once you were semi-settled in (all your belongings piled into your room) you went to meet the other members of your new Task Force.

Price introduced you to each teammate. They'd all been in his office by the time you and Price showed up. Two had been seated, and one was standing despite there being enough chairs. That had been Soap.

"Alright you lot, here she is. This is (y/n) (l/n). Straight from across the pond." Price introduced you. "(Y/n), these are boys of the 141. This is Sergeant Kyle Garrick."

"You can also call me Gaz." Kyle fills in, giving you a nod and a handshake. "It's nice to have someone from the States joining us." He was the one responsible for your callsign being States.

"This is your Lieutenant. Simon Riley. He goes strictly by Ghost." Price continues. Ghost doesn't make a move to shake your hand. He just stayed quiet. Didn't even give you a nod of any kind. Quite intimidating coming from a guy wearing a skull over his face. "And lastly, this is-"

"Soap." The man barks out before Price can say anything. You remember hearing Price sigh before finishing his sentence. "Sergeant John MacTavish."

"You can call me Soap though. Nothing else." His voice was harsh, and carried a tone of warning. If you to call him by anything else other than his callsign, there were going to be harsh consequences.

His arms were folded across his chest, and he'd glared at you during the whole introduction. It made you so nervous, the reactions you got from both Soap and Ghost. Price assured you later though that they would come around. They just needed to warm up to you. He'd been 50% correct.

At the time, Ghost had been the most terrifying of three, and the one you worried you wouldn't be able to connect with (boy had you been foolish). At the time though, Soap had at least said something to you. Ghost never said a word or even acknowledged you. And when Ghost did talk to you, it was always in a gruff voice like you were annoying him. But over time, you came to realize that was just who Ghost was. It wasn't anything personal. He was like that with literally everyone. It was rare to catch him laughing or to hear his gruff voice become lighter.

Soap, on the other hand, also spoke to you the way Ghost did, but he only used that tone with you. He was so cheery and light when speaking with the guys. Even with strangers, his voice may have been slightly more gruff, but never as harsh as when he spoke to you.

His personality was vastly different around the others as well. Whereas he could joke, laugh, and relax around them, he was the opposite around you. You thought for a moment that maybe he was sexiest and just didn't like women, though every woman he spoke to around base, he was the kindest and most respectful guy.

Now six months later, not much had changed. Soap still spoke to you in a gruff voice. He still scowled when you entered a room. He still glared at you any time he needed to look at you. He had gotten more "comfortable" around you. But really that just meat he was far more comfortable with insulting you directly. From the way you shoot to the way you eat, he could find anything to gripe about. And eventually, you decided that if he was going to be difficult, then you'd return the favor.

The first time you insulted him back, he looked shocked, then just flat out angry. Your encounters went from quiet insults being thrown back and forth and dirty looks to all out yelling at each other. Never physical fights, but Soap had punched a hole in the wall during one particularly bad argument.

The others couldn't stand you fighting. Gaz would do everything in his power to keep you separated and distracted from each other so you wouldn't start. Ghost tried to never be involved, but he would sometimes break up the fights by using his scary lieutenant voice and sending you both to different parts of the base to cool off. Price... he got the most upset. He was normally so calm under pressure but hearing you and Soap bicker pushed him to the limit. He'd yell at you both until he turned red and then normally punish you by making you do extra cleaning, harder workouts, or something else just as labor intensive.

You lost count of how many times you'd been in his office with Soap, getting reprimanded on your behavior. One of the worst had been when Soap actively tried to get you kicked off the team while you were sitting right there.

"She is a right pain in the arse, Price! I didn't even start it this time!" He claims, doing everything he could not to look at you.

"Oh blow it out your ass, Soap. You were giving me a look."

"Then don't fucking look at me." Soap growls through his teeth.

Price slams his fist onto the table, making you both jump a little and halt your bickering for a moment. "Can you two shut the hell up? It's just constant with you. I have had a headache for five fucking days cause of you idiots. What is it going to take for you two to get along?"

Soap is quick with his answer. "All this could be solved if you just deported her little ass back to the US. Seriously Price, she's caused nothing but trouble since she got here."

"I am right here, Soap." You huff out a laugh, not too shocked he'd say something like that though.

"I wish you weren't." He throws back, making Price intervene again.

"Enough! She's not going anywhere, Soap. Whether you like it or not, she brings in a skill set we are missing in this team."

"Like hell she doesn't! We can find someone else." He argues, earning a glare from Price.

"She is staying. I signed a contract that she stays for a year. If we break that, we lose our funding, our reputation, and a whole lot more." Price says, making Soap cross his arms and sit back in his chair.

"So after however many months she has left, we can get rid of her?"

"You'll be lucky if I keep you once your contract expires!" He shouts at Soap, which shuts the Scot up. Sighing, Price continues. "I will reassess at the end of year once States' contract has expired." He says more calmly, which makes your heart sink and Soap smirk.

You were dismissed then, but Price had you stay back. Probably to keep you and Soap from walking with each other, but he also has a few words for you. He reassured you that you were doing great. That you truly did bring a lot to their team and that he was happy to have you there.

"Are you going to send me back at the end of the year?" You'd asked him before you left, looking over your shoulder by the door while he stayed seated at his desk.

"Don't worry about that now, States. But know, I like having you here, and remember, it takes both of to sign the renewal contract."

That gave you hope. Price most likely would want to keep you, but he was also going to leave it up to you to decide whether or not you wanted to stay. At the same time, if things continued the way they were, it wasn't going to be good for team morale. If Price had to pick between you and Soap, you were sure he'd pick Soap. He'd been with the team longer and knew them far better than you did. This was your dream though. Being SAS. It could take years before you got another team. You liked Price, Ghost and Gaz. Could you live with Soap?

That meeting was only three weeks ago. You'd been with the Task Force for almost six months. Halfway through.

Your current mission landed you in Naryn, Kyrgyzsta. You were hunting down a military leader, General Azamat, who was accused of doing an illegal arms deal with Russia. Photos and weeks of gathering intel suggested he was guilty and currently at this military base in Naryn.

This was purely a stealth mission first. You and Soap were tasked with infiltrating the small military base while Ghost provided overwatch. There were three security stations. One on the East, what Soap was in position for, the South, the one you were headed towards now, and the West, where you and Soap would meet to take out the last one.

The East and South stations were backup generators and needed to be taken out first before the main one to the South was. That way you kept the element of surprise and didn't need to worry about the backups going online. After that, your troops would push in and secure the base, capture the military leader, and you could all go home.

Soap had given the update on his position, saying he was where he needed to be, about two minutes ago. Two fucking minutes ago. And he was already griping that you weren't to your position yet. His words rang in your ear through your comm earpiece.

"This is Bravo 7-1, I've been in position. Waiting on 7-4 to move her ass."

"Calm down, I'm almost fucking there. Don't be so impatient." You growl back. "Seriously Ghost, how do you even deal with him?"

"Haad yer wheesht." Soap growls at you, some Scottish slang you don't understand. No doubt he was telling you to shut the fuck up or something along those lines.

"Either speaking fucking English or don't speak, MacTavish." You bark, voice getting a little too loud for a stealth mission. Even if you weren't too close to the camp yet, there could be patrols you needed to be mindful of.

"How about you fucking learn about other's cultures and then we wouldn't have this problem. And don't call me MacTavish."

"I do know about other's cultures! I just don't care to know about the one that you came from." You throw back before Ghost gets involved.

"Shut it. Now. Not another word. Fuck's sake." You could practically see Ghost shaking his head. "States, how long till you're in position?" Ghost asks, directing attention back to the mission.

"Give me two minutes."

"Bloody fucking Jesus." You hear Soap mummer through the comms.

You take a deep breath to try and focus your energy back on your current tasks. Soap was not going to get in your head and mess this up for you. For anyone else, he would have stayed quiet. In fact, it probably wouldn't have even bothered him.

"Hold up, 7-4." You hear Ghost say to you after about 30 seconds of creeping your way to your position. "You've got a small patrol further up from your position. Just over the hill. Two men, I don't see anyone else. When you're in range, get a good shot of one, and I'll dump the other for you."

"On it. Thanks Ghost." You whisper back, readying your rifle and trying to be as silent as you can while you approach the men.

"You telling me it's gonna be even longer now." Soap complains, making you roll your eyes.

"I'm sorry your side didn't have rough terrain or anyone to fight off, Soap." You tell him sarcastically. "Some of us didn't get the easy baby route to take."

"I'll have you know I took down two fucking patrols all by myself while I made my way over here. And I didn't have Ghost's help to do it either."

"Fuck you." You growl at him.

"What did I bloody fucking say?" Ghost growls, his lieutenant voice coming out. You curse yourself as you let it happen again. Just ignore the Scot and focus on what's ahead.

"In position, Ghost. I see them. Clear sight on both, your call."

Ghost does the quick calculations in his head as he prepares his shot, trying to determine which of the two men he had a better chance of taking out. "The one with the flashlight is mine. Dump is mate. In three, two..."

You both took the shot, Ghost pulling his trigger just a millisecond before you to account for the distance. He landed a clean headshot while your first bullet landed more in the shoulder of your guy. You took a quick second shot, which finished the job with another headshot.

"He's down. Clean shots. Though try for the head first next time." Ghost quips. There was no malice in his words. Just Ghost joking around to ease tension. Soap clearly needed to take lessons from Ghost on how to tell a joke without being a total ass about it.

"Noted. Thanks for the advice, 0-7." You banter back, earning a scowl and an eye roll from Soap.

"Less talking, more getting to where you're supposed to be." Soap cuts in, ending the fun you'd been having with Ghost.

"Don't get your skirt in a knot. I'm in position." You huff, pulling out your binoculars and scouting the area. Despite this base housing a military leader, and having two back up generators, they really didn't have much security. No walls, no floodlights. Just a few patrols outside. They weren't expecting trouble.

"It's a bloody kilt. Not a skirt." Soap seethes, his jaw clenched. At this rate, he wasn't going to be able to finish this mission. Everything about you was just pure annoyance to him.

"Yeah whatever you want to tell yourse-"

"Are you two going to be able to finish this mission or am I going to have to pull you both from it?" Ghost barks over the comms, clearly fed up now.

You feel your face flush hot in embarrassment. Ghost has never threatened to remove you from a mission before. You've always been good and reliable. You can't fail and have it on your record that you were pulled from a mission due to not being able to get along with others. That was a death sentence for your career with the SAS.

"No, sir. Sorry, 0-7." You apologize, not hearing anything from Soap's end. He was probably pouting and internally cursing you for getting him in trouble, even though this was all his fault. "Going to head out for the South station. Bravo 7-4 going dark." You turn your radio from the public channel between you three to a private one used only for emergencies. At least now you wouldn't be able to hear Soap for a little bit.

Soap hears your radio beep once, signaling to him you'd disconnected for a moment while you advance towards your target goal. Once you had, he huffs and takes a moment to squeeze his eyes shut and collect himself.

"I can't fucking stand her, Ghost." He complains to his friend. "Why the hell did Price ever think it was a good idea to put us together on a mission?" He looked out into the field, making out the little shadow of you making your way slowly to the base.

"She's part of the team, Soap. Price has his reasons. Just focus on the mission and make it work." Ghost replies, not offering too much help aside from stating the obvious and putting Soap's mind back in the field. "Better get going. Your path is clear right now."

Soap sighs heavily and stretches out his neck a bit by tilting his ears toward each shoulder. One side pops a little, only relieving a little tension. "Alright. Bravo 7-1 going dark." He clicks his radio to the private channel and begins to make his way to the East backup generator's building.

By the time Soap reaches his building, you are already working your way inside the South building thanks to the small head start you got. You stick to the shadows as much as you can, thoughts wandering to Soap from time to time. Wondering if he's cleared his building already or if he ran into trouble. Then again, if it was really bad, he could have contacted you or Ghost and there would have been alarms going off. And as much as you hated him, you had to admit he was really good at this kind of stuff. Sweeping through a place and clearing it out. Quick and clean. Of course he'd never ever hear you utter any praises directed at him.

Your building wasn't too heavily guarded. You assumed most of their men were either asleep in the barracks, standing guard of where the military leader was staying, or off patrolling areas they deemed more important than the backup generators. The main building to the West would have most of their patrols since it was the more important building. That was the reason you and Soap needed to work on clearing it together.

You managed to clear your building fairly quickly with only one close call. One guard had seen you shoot someone else, but you managed to take them out before they could radio for backup, and no one seemed to have heard him yell. Once cleared, you plugged in the flash drive and uploaded the virus it contained to make the generator go offline.

You bring a hand to your radio and speak into it. "This is Bravo 7-4, generator down, South building secure. I repeat, generator down. Heading to the West building to the rendezvous now." You begin to head out the way you came in as Ghost speaks to you over the comms.

"This is Bravo 0-7. Confirm. You're all clear." Ghost responds.

"You got a sit rep on our precious Bravo 7-1?" You ask, forgetting to switch over from the private channel. You duck behind some ammo boxes and sneak along them, not expecting to get an answer from Soap. You expected him to be busy still and not on the public channel that you thought you were on. Before Ghost can answer, 7-1 graces you with a response.

"States, shut your fucking mouth and switch your radio over to public. How the hell did you get selected when you can't even use a damn radio." He snarls, making you pause. Soap's words always kinda stung a bit, but some more than others.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I not allowed to have a sit rep on you?" You ask, ignoring your slip up of being in the wrong channel.

"No." He answers flatly, making you sigh and roll your eyes. So much for working as a team. "And switch-"

You switched over while he was mid sentence, not wanting to hear his grating voice anymore. You were getting a little worn down at this point. It wasn't like you enjoyed arguing with Soap as much as you did. It was exhausting. Being out in the field where you were already stressed was making it a lot worse.

"He's almost done." Ghost answers you, keeping you updated since Soap clearly wasn't going to. "Just head to the rendezvous, States."

You grumble softly but do as you are told. You mutter a "copy" into your radio before slowly and carefully making your way to the rendezvous. You hear a soft beep shortly after, signaling Soap had reconnected to the public channel. You try to avoid using your radio after that, even skipping check-ins since it seemed that Soap was going to make any use of your radio an unpleasant experience. Though eventually you do need to give an update that you were at the rendezvous, that way Soap wouldn't shoot you.

You move to the side of a building and crouch down. "Bravo 7-4 approaching rendezvous." You sigh to yourself before adding, "Bravo 7-1, please let me know when you are on your way."

"I'm already here. Look to your bloody right 7-4." You look almost directly to your right, which is met with an annoyed sigh. "Not that far. Back to your.. straight.. just- Fucks sake, by the crates!"

"You're not giving me good directions!" You silently yell back, still looking for him.

"By the crates! The only crates in the area! I'm practically in the open."

You see him then. His stupidly handsome face turned into a scowl and his piercing blue eyes glaring at you. He was not in the open, only his head poking up from the crates. You sent the same look right back to him and make your way over, looking around and making sure the way was clear so you wouldn't compromise your position. He was kind enough to at least raise his gun and cover you as you made your way over. Once behind the crates, back pressed to them, he relaxes his position and ducks behind them with you.

"States, look at me," Soap says, his voice deep and gravely. The only tone he ever seemed to use with you. "I want this done clean and easy. No fuck ups. You're going to follow my lead and stay out of my way. And I don't want to hear a single word from you unless it's mission related. You got that?" He lectures you.

You are so, so tempted to roll your eyes at him. He was talking to you like you were a marine fresh off selection. Not a five year veteran who was selected for an elite special forces team. He didn't even outrank you by that much. Not enough to make a real difference. The only thing he had up on you was experience and maybe two years in age.

You're silent for a long moment, glaring at him until he repeats himself a little.

"Do you understand?" He annunciates each word, and you swallow down the choice of words you had for him. This wasn't the time or place for that. You were in the middle of a mission that could go belly up and turn dangerous. You didn't need to be fighting the sergeant on this.

"You got it." You say tightly, mustering up all the strength you possessed not to say more than that to him.

Soap seemed surprised you agreed so easily, but he eyes you suspiciously for a moment before nodding. "Good." He nods before reaching for his radio. "Bravo 0-7, this is 7-1. Going in. Rest of the troops be ready in five minutes and wait for the signal."

"Copy, 7-1." Ghost confirms. "Be warned, I see multiple troops in the vicinity of the West security building. Some men have different uniforms. They look to be General Azamat's men. He could be in there."

You furrow your brows at that. You were expecting a lot of troops in that area, but the military leader you were after wasn't supposed to be in there. There was a bunker in the middle of the camp that he was supposed to be in. It wasn't going to be a significant change the mission though. It just meant your job had become a lot harder. More men to clear out without raising alarm.

"This is Bravo 7-4, 0-7 what's the best way in?" You ask, refusing to look at Soap. You saw his head turn to look at you from the corner of your eye.

"If you wanna come home looking like Swiss cheese I'd go with the front door. Around the back might be your best shot, but I can't get a clear view from my area." Ghost informs you.

"Can you reposition and-"

"No." Soap immediately cuts you off, making you glance to him. "We don't have time for a reposition. We need to move before they realize their backup generators have been breached."

"You just don't like it cause it was my idea." You accuse, watching as Soap visibly becomes agitated.

"I don't like it cause it's a bloody stupid idea!" Soap says through clenched teeth. He was getting right in your face. You were about to tell him off until Ghost's voice filled your left ear.

"Soap's right. There's no time. Head to the back and make due with that entry point. We'll go loud if we need to."

Soap wore a smug look as Ghost sided with him. You despised it. "See? Told you it was a stupid idea." He reiterates, still way too close for comfort.

Your anger flared, and you shoved him back with a forearm to his chest. He reacted instantly, grabbing your arm and flinging it away as if it had burned him. The movement was so quick, it surprised you a bit, and all you can do is stare at him with wide eyes.

"Touch me again, and you're going to regret ever signing up for the military," he growled, his finger jabbing the air between you before standing up and storming off without attracting too much attention.

You're left stunned for a moment, though you're not sure how you thought he was going to react to you pushing him. Within a matter of seconds, you gather yourself, reminding yourself that you were still in enemy territory and needed to focus. With a reluctant sigh, you followed after him.

You managed to make your way to the back of the West Building with Soap without too many complications. The most you needed to really do was duck behind some parked trucks as a military jeep rolled by. It exited the compound, likely heading out to meet a patrol for a shift change.

You and Soap didn't say a single word to each other the whole way. For a stealth mission, that was preferable. However, you could feel the tension between you and Soap. Disdain was radiating off him, and you didn't want to get too close to him in fear he was going to blow up at any second.

There's a line up of vehicles that serve as your cover for the time being as you sneak along one side of them. Suddenly, you nearly collide with Soap when he abruptly raises his hand, signaling you to stop. There's a group of four men all standing in a small circle, talking and smoking together. They're isolated from other groups but taking out a group of four could be very difficult to do.

Soap takes a few steps back, waving for you to back up as well. "We can't take that group out by ourselves, we're going to have to go around." He tells you in a hushed voice as you attempt to peak around him to get a good view of the targets blocking your path.

"It's only four. We can both take out two." You suggest, but, just like all your other ideas, Soap is fast to shut that one down too.

"Not a chance. You suck at hitting multiple headshots." He accuses.

That makes your blood begin to boil. You were not the God awful shot he made you out to be. In fact, back on your base in the US, you were considered to be one of the better shooters.

"I don't suck at making headshots." You glare, making him huff at you.

"Oh really? You missed the one earlier. Ghost managed to hit it from hundreds of meters away, and you bloody miss from a few feet. Your aim is absolute dog shite, States. I'm not going to have you mess up this entire mission cause you think you're better than you are."

His voice was harsh, as always, and his glare was biting. You felt your eyes burn as tears formed, but you refused to let Soap see you cry. He'd only roll his eyes and call you a baby. Crying would only give him more reasons to think you didn't belong here, that you weren't as good as the rest of them.

There were so many things you wanted to say to him in that moment, but you couldn't. The words got caught in your throat, and you feared that if you opened your mouth, a sob would escape. All you could do was look away and clench your jaw, masking your hurt feelings as anger instead.

Soap seems to take your silence as you submitting. "Come on. We'll go around that way."

He was motioning to a camp-like area that seemed mostly deserted, though there were probably men sleeping in the multiple tents that were set up. Along with the tents, there was some campfires and some small boxes of what looked to be filled with MREs.

As Soap quickly moved to the new area to bypass the group of men, you glanced back at them. You knew you could land those headshots. If Ghost had been with you, you would have taken them down already. You were tired of Soap thinking you were inferior and wanted to prove him wrong so badly. You knew you could land those headshots...

Raising your rifle slowly, you lined up the shot for the first target and mentally mapped out the sequence. One on the right, then left, then back right, and then back left. A simple zig-zag pattern. Easy enough.

Right as you're about to pull the trigger, you hear Soap's voice crackle through the comms. His voice was deep and full of warning and venom. 

"Don't you fucking dare, States."

But you dared. You wanted more than anything to prove him wrong. You slowly exhaled and pulled the trigger.

#call of duty #ghost riley #soap cod #soap mactavish #ghost cod #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #soapghost #soap mw2 #soap call of duty #soap x you #soap smut #john mactavish #captain price #john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #smut #enemies to lovers #slow burn #johnny mactavish #john mactavish x reader #rough smut #ghost #ghost call of duty #price cod #kyle garrick #soap x fem reader #soap x y/n #johnny mctavish x reader

[ichorai]

particles ; peter parker.

track eight of BROKEN MACHINE.

prequel to spiderling!

pairing ; peter parker x stark!reader (gender neutral), dad!tony x reader

synopsis ; tony gives peter the dreaded 'dad' talk.

words ; 2.8k

themes ; fluff, mild comedy

warnings / includes ; set right at the end of homecoming era & onwards, mild cursing, peter is so endearingly awkward, tony being a good dad :(

a/n ; another part is in the works to be set during the events of infinity war/endgame!

main masterlist.

The Avengers compound was all sleek edges, clean cool-tones, and large floor-to-ceiling windows with not a speck of dust to be seen. It was an intimidating environment, to say the least. What made things worse was Mr. Stark’s hand on his shoulder and the hopeful gleam to his eyes.

The team, he had said. Tony wanted him to join the Avengers.

And with the brand new suit displayed in front of him, too… it was nearly impossible to say no.

Nearly.

When Peter stammered out a polite decline, Tony had looked at him above his lowered sunglasses, incredulous.

“You’re turning me down?” he said, heavy with disbelief. “You better think about this, kid.”

There was a long pause.

“Last chance, yes or no?”

Of course he wanted to say yes—to be in the Avengers, work with Iron Man himself… that was his dream. But he couldn’t. Someone had to look out for the little guy, right? And who better than the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?

“No,” Peter replied. 

Not at all used to being rejected, Tony struggled for words for a moment, before reluctantly accepting Peter’s decision, masking his disappointment fairly well. He liked the kid, and it wasn’t exactly fun to have him slip through his fingers like this. With a wave of his hand at Happy, he told him that he’d be driven home.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. Truly,” Peter hastily said, certain that he’d made the right decision.

Preoccupied thinking about what he was going to tell the fifty reporters waiting behind the doors, Tony absentmindedly quipped, “Yes, uh, very well, Mr. Parker.”

Peter left with a proud grin and a skip to his step, nodding when Happy asked him to wait in the car. 

Before he could make his way out, however, a voice stopped him in his tracks.

“That was really ballsy, what you did back there,” you said, observing him with an amused expression, eyes narrowed with curiosity. Peter blinked, recognizing you almost immediately. “Not a lot of people would leave my dad hanging like that.”

With a widened stare, Peter found all the words stuck in his throat. You were much more breathtaking in person, with an intrigued air about you. Though your features took more after your mother, who’d passed away many years ago, Peter noticed that you shared Tony’s smile.

“Uh… yeah,” was all Peter could lamely say.

The subtle beam curving your lips seemed to grow wider. You hummed, soft and lilting, languidly stepping forward with a nod. “Hope to see you around then, Peter.” You took his hand, sliding a folded piece of paper into his palm. “Give me a call if you ever need anything. Or if you just need a friend to talk to, I’m all ears. It’s a private phone—my dad doesn’t know about it. He gets really uptight about me talking to strangers but… you’re not really a stranger, are you? At least, not for long.”

Shocked, Peter could only open and shut his mouth, as if he were a fish out of water. 

“I, uhm… thank you. I’ll definitely, uh, definitely take you up on that offer,” he choked out, nodding emphatically. 

You gave him a warm smile, accompanied by a two-fingered salute, and in turn, he waved goodbye, palms drenched with sweat as he hurriedly backed away to the car before Happy could yell at him. 

Cute, you thought with an amused shake of your head, before making your way back to your dad, who was still muttering under his breath about how he couldn’t believe a fifteen year old had just turned him down.

Your phone number stared at him every day for the next week. The numbers were hastily scribbled down in blue ink, smudged ever so slightly by the crease of the fold during your rush, but you’d taken the time to draw a smiley face right beneath the last digit. It never failed to make Peter smile every time he gave it a glance. 

It took him three days to psyche himself up to even considering calling you, and another three to actually add you to your contacts, his thumb hovering over the call button far too often than he’d like to admit. On the seventh day, Peter pressed with a sharp inhale.

Three rings trilled by.

Peter wondered if you were going to pick up. He wouldn’t really be surprised if you didn’t—you were a busy person, probably, and didn’t have the time to take calls from people like him. 

Another ring. And suddenly, your voice reverberated through. Peter sat up on his bed, spine straightening as if it were an iron rod.

“Hello?”

“Y/N! Hi!” he said, voice abnormally high-pitched. He cleared his throat and nervously added, “It’s Peter. Peter Parker?”

A laugh echoed in his ear. He could picture your humored smile. “Yeah, I remember. It’s nice to hear from you—thought you’d never call.”

“You were waiting?”

“Of course, I was. I wouldn’t have given you my number if I didn’t want you to call.”

Warm relief surged through his veins, accompanied by a flustered coil winding within his abdomen. “Cool, cool… so, uh, I don’t want to be too forward or anything but I think you’re… so cool and uhm—” A pause. Was Peter really asking you out on an impulsive date? “Would you wanna hang out?”

On the other end of the line, you blinked in surprise, not expecting his sudden forwardness. You shifted the phone in your palm. “Right now?” It was a good thing you weren’t busy, having caught up on all your assignments and projects. Besides—you couldn’t remember the last time you properly went out into the city with someone other than Happy, Pepper, or your dad. 

“Uh… if you’re not busy, that is.”

“You know what—sure. Why the hell not?” you replied, grinning.

Peter did a double-take. “Wait—really?”

“Yes, really. I’d love to spend some time with you, Peter.”

Now it was his turn to smile, pink dusting across his cheekbones. “Great. I’ll text you where to meet, then?”

“Sure, Peter.”

After the call ended, you were quick to change into appropriate attire, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself. You donned a soft grey hoodie and baggy black jeans, slipping out of your room a few minutes later. The location Peter had sent you was a quaint little library not too far from where you lived, within a manageable walking distance. You were glad that you wouldn’t have to ask Happy to drive you, because knowing your godfather, he’d be hovering over Peter like a vulture.

Just as you were about to slip out, your tote bag slung over your shoulder, Tony popped his head out of the living room, quirking a brow.

“Hey, kid,” he cautiously greeted. “Where you goin’?”

You froze with one foot out of the door. “Library,” you answered, trying you best to appear nonchalant.

“Hm. Which library?”

With a frown marring your lips, you crossed your arms. “Jeez, dad, whichever library! I’m sure there’s, like, a dozen in a five-mile radius.”

Mirroring your attitude, Tony mimicked your squared jaw and rolled his eyes. “You know, if you wanted to hang out with that kid Peter, you could’ve just asked.”

A beat of silence. You narrowed your eyes at your dad. “How do you know about that?”

Tony let out a loud guffaw. “What? You don’t think I didn’t know you bought yourself your own phone? Are you forgetting that your pops is Tony Stark himself? God, kid, you were just like me when I was your age.” He paused at that, rethinking what he just said. “Well, actually, I was way worse.”

He strode forward, smoothing his hands down the sleeves of your hoodie and patting your shoulders. It wasn’t often that Tony was overly affectionate with you, but whenever he was, you always appreciated how genuine he would be.

After pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, he gently nudged you out the door. “Go on. Get! Scat!” He made shooing motions with his hands. “If you don’t get back by sundown, I’ll have Happy hunt you down and kill the kid town executioner style.” At your scowl, Tony was quick to tack on, “Joking! I’m joking.”

“Bye, dad,” you said huffily, though the affection in your tone was unmistakable. With that, you turned to leave, fishing out your phone to text Peter that you were on your way.

“They grow up so fast,” a voice mused from over Tony’s shoulder, welling with emotion. 

He flinched at his friend’s sudden presence, slamming the door shut. “Jesus Christ, Happy, don’t scare me like that!”

The months flew by in a breeze. You and Peter were now exclusively dating—something that he had asked about early on in your relationship, worriedly gnawing at his bottom lip with the harrowing idea of you turning him down. But you’d been nothing but sweet with him, affectionately pressing your nose into his cheek and telling him that you’d love to be official.

You were lounging on his bed, sprawled over his dark blue comforter, which smelled of fresh laundry detergent and something else entirely Peter that you couldn’t get enough off. He was across the narrow room, hunched over his desk as he hurriedly did his physics homework due the very next day. Idly, you fiddled with the web shooters you had swiped from his bedside table, narrowing your eyes at the wrist fixings and the capsules that held his web fluid.

Only a genius could build something like this on his own, you thought fondly. I’m dating a genius.

It seemed that you had said the last bit out loud, because Peter snorted in amusement.

“Yeah, says you,” he scoffed. “You skipped, like, a dozen grades.”

“Half that, actually. Six grades.”

Peter turned to look at you over his shoulder, arching his brows. “Not to mention your dad is literally the Tony Stark.”

With a hum, you slunk off his bed and languidly draped your arms over his shoulder. “Just take the compliment, Peter,” you said as you pressed a fond kiss to a faint freckle on his cheek. Then, you glanced down at the problem he was solving. “Mmh, don’t forget the negative sign. It’s moving against gravity, no?”

“Right.” He hastily corrected the formula, glancing at you appreciatively. “Thanks.”

“No prob, I make the same mistake all the time,” you quipped. “I’ve been making my own suit with the help of my dad—had to study up a lot on rotational mechanics and material physics. It’s been a pain in the ass.”

Brows raising, Peter dropped his pencil and rotated his chair so he was facing you fully, his knees grazing yours. “What? You’re making your own suit?”

“Yeah,” you said with the beginnings of an excited smile tracing your lips. “I mean, I don’t know if I’ll ever become an Avenger like my dad is but… I don’t know. It’s certainly an option.”

A low groan fell from Peter’s throat, and he buried his face in his palms. “You’re telling me we could’ve been in the same team together? Ugh, stop, stop, don’t make me regret turning your dad down.” 

“Oh, no, Pete, I think you made the right choice,” you quickly reassured him, tugging his wrists away from his flushed features. “We’re still young. It’s not fair to put that responsibility on our shoulders as of now.”

The brown of his irises softened. “Yeah. We’re still young,” he echoed, ducking his head to kiss your hand clutching his. “You gotta show me that suit of yours one day, though.”

Both you and Peter were strolling around an art museum, arms linked and permanent smiles plastered over your expressions as you pointed at various paintings and sculptures. It was nearly an hour into the date when your phone began buzzing in your pocket, and you hastily let go of Peter’s arm to fish it out.

“Hello?”

“Hey, bugaroo,” Tony’s drawl came through your phone. “Where are you? I’m bored.”

A lopsided grin hung onto the corner of your lips at his words. “I’m with Peter right now.”

“Hm. You guys are behaving yourselves, I hope. You using protection?”

The grin melted off your face and you scowled. “Dad, what the fuck?”

“Hey, language!” he scolded, before chuckling dryly. “God, I’m turning into Cap. Anyways—what’re you thinking for dinner tonight? Does Chinese sound good? You wanna invite the Spider over, too?”

You glanced at Peter, who was ogling an abstract painting with a tilted head and a puzzled expression. He’d never really understood the point of this art style, but when you’d explained to him that art didn’t need to be understood to be considered art, he had grown much more lenient with his views of the chaotic splotches of paint. A small smile traced the corner of your lips as you watched his features contort with every one of his thoughts. Peter truly wore his heart on a sleeve, for everyone to see.

“Yeah, sounds great,” you said into the phone. “We’ll be home in an hour.”

Dinner consisted of warm soup dumplings and stir-fried noodles in flimsy paper boxes.

“Mm, Mr. Stark, these are delicious. I mean, I know you didn’t cook this or anything but it’s still really good,” Peter said around a mouthful of noodles. “Thanks for, uh, inviting me over. It’s an honor, really.”

“Stop sucking up to my dad, Peter,” you snorted, sipping on some iced tea. “He already likes you.”

One of Tony’s brows raised. “When did I ever say that?” At Peter’s slightly mortified expression, Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding. Jokes, kiddo. Don’t piss yourself.”

“Speaking of piss—I’m goin’ to the powder room. Don’t fight while I’m gone,” you unabashedly said, pushing yourself away from the table. You really were your father’s child, Peter thought, mildly amused.

Tony watched you disappear behind a hallway, before fixing his gaze on Peter. The older man drummed his chopsticks by the edge of the table. 

“Listen, kid, I know we’re already way past the point of this but as a father—you gotta understand that I have to give you the talk.” It was jarring to see Tony genuinely serious for once. Peter straightened himself subconsciously. “If you ever, ever hurt Y/N, I will stick a rocket up your ass and launch you straight to the moon. Do you understand?”

Peter gulped. “Yes, sir. I got it. You can trust me. I, uh, I really do like Y/N.”

“Oh, you do, do you?”

“...Yes? I’m sorry, I’m confused, do you not want me to like them?”

An unsatisfied noise fell from Tony’s lips. “Eh. I mean, would I prefer Y/N never ever date anybody and stay locked in their room forever, wasting away in front of a screen? Absolutely. But if it just had to be someone… I’m glad it’s you.”

Peter blinked in surprise. “Wow, Mr. Stark. That’s… thank you. It’s a huge honor. I promise I’ll take good care of them.”

“Yeah, don’t push it, Pete. You guys are barely a decade old.”

“Am I coming off too strong?” he winced, recoiling into his chair slightly. 

The man across from him gestured to the small space between his pinched fingers. “Just a bit.”

“I’m actually fif—”

“Fifteen. I know. Y/N, too.”

There was another tense moment of silence as Tony scrutinized the young man. 

Finally satisfied, he leaned back in his chair and smiled roguishly. “Phew! Glad that’s over with. In all honesty, if one of you were to hurt the other, it probably wouldn’t be you. I mean, let’s face it, you’re dating my kid, kid.”

Before Peter could respond, you slipped back into the room, your hands propped up on your hips. “Really, dad? Are you trying to scare Peter off?”

Your father gave you a sheepish shrug. “It was worth a shot.”

“I can make my own decisions,” you sternly replied. “You don’t need to hover.”

As you sat back down into the chair beside Tony, he wound an arm over your shoulders. “You know, my dad did the exact opposite of hovering when I was your age. He was always too caught up with work and stuff—barely ever saw the guy. Most birthdays n’ holidays and whatnot, he was never around. I don’t know, I just… I don’t want to be like my dad.”

Your features softened with his admission, and you turned to rope him into a proper hug. 

When you pulled away, Peter nervously cleared his throat. “I, uh, for the record—I don’t think you can ever scare me off. Not even after going to the moon with a rocket up my ass.”

Tony glared at him, though there was a slight smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “Watch it, kid.”

“Sorry.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x you #marvel fanfiction #peter parker angst #marvel angst #mcu!peter x reader #peter parker fluff #mcu!peter parker #mcu!peter parker fanfiction #spiderman x reader #spider-man x reader #spiderman fanfiction #spider-man fanfiction #spiderman fluff #spiderman angst #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker imagines #peter parker drabbles

[enhaheeseung]

Come back to me - L.HS

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, depression, crying, cursing.

WC: 1,900k+

Part eleven

Masterlist

“Hey, bro.”

“Heeseung?”

“Bossman”

“Hello?

“ANSWER ME!”

Little did Jake know his texts would go unanswered for days.

After the first couple of days, Jake thought maybe heeseung was just working things out with you and focusing on repairing your guy's relationship.

However, after a while, he started to get suspicious of what was happening. It was unusual for heeseung not to respond, and it was even more unusual for him not to show up for work after weeks of being absent.

“Have you heard from heeseung? He’s not answering my calls or texts.” he sent a text to Jay, trying to piece together the current situation.

“No. Not since his date with y/n.”

“Strange, this isn’t like him at all.”

“I know, he hasn’t been to work in forever. Do you think we should check on him?”

“Already three steps ahead of you. Meet me at his house. I’ll send the address.”

“Sounds good”

-

Jay arrived a few minutes after Jake, and they stood outside heeseung’s door, knocking softly. “Took you long enough to get here” Jake rolls his eyes.

“Not my problem. There was traffic!” He defends.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jake sighs and knocks on the door again, becoming more anxious than he already was. “His cars in the driveway. He must be here.” Jay went to the window, trying to peek in, but all the lights were turned off.

Jay looked for a spare key but had no luck in finding one.

The knock on the door became more erratic as Jake grew more and more worried.

He gave up and tried to dial Heeseung’s number again, but it was futile when he got no answer. “Fuck”

At this point, Jake was about to kick the door in, and he all but did. “Wait!” Jay shouted and twisted the doorknob, and lo and behold, it was open this whole time.

He stuck his tongue out at Jake before entering heeseung’s home while the other just shook his head in disbelief.

“Heeseung?” They called as they stepped inside, it was dead silent, almost as if no one was home.

Of course, there was no answer, and Jake quickly jogged upstairs, heart racing as his mind went to the worst scenarios. “Heeseung? Oh, thank goodness.” Jake stopped in his tracks, sighing in relief, and Jay did as well when they spotted Heeseung in bed. “You had me worried, you idiot,” Jake scolded him. After his initial panic faded away, he noticed how Heeseung had absolutely no reaction to them practically breaking in. “Hee?” Jake whispers, walking towards him on the bed. It was dark, but once he got closer, he could see that Heeseung had his eyes wide open, blankly staring at a picture of you.

“Go,” was all he said before he turned around on the other side of his bed.

“Go? What the fuck, man? I drove forty five minutes to get to your ass,” Jake elbowed Jay in the side.

“Can’t you fucking read the room?” Jake whisper shouts while Jay holds his side in pain.

Before saying anything else, Jake turned on the light illuminating the room. “Hee, what’s going on? “

“I said fucking go,” he yelled, making Jake jump in his spot. “Just go.” he broke down in tears, sobbing quietly as he pulled the blankets over his head.

“O-okay, we’re going.” Jake put his hands up, slowly backing out of the room along with Jay as they quietly shut the door and left.

“What the fuck?” Jay said once they both got outside.

“Yeah,” Jake sighed.

-

That incident was about two weeks ago, and there was still no sign of him at work, and he wasn’t answering his phone either.

As much as heeseung dreaded the idea, he still pulled himself out of bed to shower every now and then, and his diet consisted of water and stale crackers. basically, he was doing just enough to sustain himself.

Most of his time was spent crying or sleeping or having very vivid dreams, memories, and flashbacks of you and him together.

And that was it.

This was his life without you if you could even call it living.

-

“That’s it.” Jake slams his computer shut, gathering the attention of Jay and his other coworkers.

“What the hell, Jake?”

“Shut up. I’m going to Heeseung’s house. Are you coming or not?” He says, snatching up his suit jacket.

“What for?” Jay asked while he lowered his specs.

“I hate you.” Jake glared at him, heading straight for the elevator.

“Why?” He asks as Jake gets further and further away, he follows his coworker scrambling to get his jacket on. “Why?!”

-

This time, the door was actually locked cause they locked it before they left, and this time, Jake didn’t waste any time kicking the door open and heading straight upstairs, where his friend was withering away.

“Get out,” heeseung says.

“Nope, not today,” Jake storms into his room, flicking all the lights on and ripping open the curtains, letting some light in finally.

“What the hell? I said Get out,” heeseung shouted.

“No!” Jake shouted back, taking heeseung by surprise. “Look at yourself. What the hell is happening to you?”

Heeseung went silent, turning his head away from the two.

“Stop! You can’t just keep shutting us out like this.” he ripped the covers off of Heeseung’s body, revealing his frail frame.

“Just leave me alone, Jake. I’m fine.” he said quietly as he sat up on his bed, hugging his knees to his chest.

Jake knew this was more than an invasion of privacy, but he had it up to here. First, heeseung was drinking himself to death, and now this, he wasn’t going to take it anymore. He refused to stand on the sidelines watching heeseung throw his life away. He walked over to the bed, grabbing Heeseung’s shoulders, and forcing him to stand up. “Jake, don’t yo-“

“Be quiet, Jay,” Jake says angrily while guiding Heeseung to stand in front of his wall mirror.

Heeseung quietly gasped at his appearance. The reality of what he was doing to himself finally set in as he quickly turned away.

“You think we want this for you? You think y/n wants this for you?”

“Y/n,” Heeseung whispered, tears gathering in his eyes. He was so caught up in the past that he hadn’t even thought about you in the present. He didn’t know what you were up to these days.

Jake’s eyes softened as he guided heeseung to the edge of the bed. “Tell us what happened,” Jake encouraged him. “You’re always helping us, and we never help you, so let us return the favor.”

“Yeah, besides, you owe me the details on your date.” Jay tried his best to smile as he closed the bedroom and joined them on the bed.

Heeseung nodded softly after they knocked some sense into him. “Okay,” he says, opening up to the idea a lot easier than he would have imagined, but he knew he needed help. He knew he needed someone to talk to other than a still picture frame.

-

It was nightfall by the time they had finished talking, and to say a lot had happened between the two of you would be an understatement.

And they realized it wasn’t so much the initiated divorce that turned Heeseung into the person he is now. It was more less the guilt eating away at him, and, of course, being cooped up all by himself in the silence of his house for days was not helping his case one bit.

But they were determined to get him on his feet and hopefully get you both back together because it sounded like a lot of self-pity and a large sum of miscommunication and unfortunate circumstances.

Not to mention, heeseung was literally deluding himself into thinking he wasn’t good enough for you, and that was a whole new can of worms that, on top of the fact that he was basically the reason why things weren’t moving forward with you both it sounded hopeful all he needed to do was be persistent cause obviously the love was there, but every time his guilt kept getting in the way of that, leaving him where he is right now crying in the arms of his friends but everything was soon going to change.

“Okay, so we’re gonna make a plan for you to get y/n back.” Heeseung shook his head back and forth, not even trying to give the idea a chance. Lucky for him, he’s got two friends that actually care about his emotional ass. “Yes, we are.”

“Indeed we are,” Jay agreed. “But first things first, go take a shower before I lose my sense of smell.”

-

“You think I look okay?” Heeseung nervously checked himself out in the mirror one last time.

“You look fine. Stop worrying about that,” Jay scolded. “Do you have it?”

“I do” heeseung replied nervously. “Thanks, guys. I don’t know where I’d be without you.” he gave them a long, big hug.

“You’d be ten pounds lighter, in bed, and unshowered,” Jay jokes but gives him a hug, nevertheless dropping his hard exterior for once.

Heeseung chuckled softly. “Remember what we said,” Jake reminded him of the conversation they had had days ago.

Heeseung nodded.

“Okay, now go get her back.” Jake smiled, making it sound so simple, moments later they headed off, driving heeseung to his destination.

He was so grateful for them helping him. Not only did they help pick an outfit and gift for you, but they even counseled him and gave him advice. Now, all that was left to do was to put it into action, and right now, he felt like he could take on the world, and this time, he wasn’t leaving until you took him back. “This is it.” he took a deep breath, waving bye to Jake and Jay as they backed out of the driveway.

A few seconds later, he knocked on your door.

-

You sat on your bed blankly, staring at the positive pregnancy test in your hand, thoughts muddied as you wondered where to go from here. You haven’t told anyone yet, only finding out today after you missed yet another period. The gears started turning, and it only made sense that you were pregnant after the symptoms you were experiencing the missed periods, and the fact that you didn’t use any protection the last time you had sex.

You wanted to deny it at first, brushing it off, saying you just weren’t feeling good and that missed periods happened sometimes, but deep down, you knew you were just trying to delay the inevitable, but with the positive test in your hand, there was no more getting around it.

You were pregnant.

You wanted to tell someone, but you also were so overwhelmed by the new information, and the tears would not stop flowing. You were so happy that you were going to have a baby, but at the same time, you were nervous, given your current circumstances.

You were about to call your mom, but a soft knock on your door stopped you from doing so. You cleared your throat and quickly hid the test under your pillow. “Come in.”

The door soon swung open, revealing no other than.

“Heeseung?”

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

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Come back to me taglist @mimikittysblog @woahsehun @dunnoshim @skzenhalove @enhastolemyheart @helenngxz @markleeisdabestdrug @hanjisunginc @wanlore

#enhypen heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #enha heeseung #engene #heeseung smut #lee heeseung x y/n #enhypen angst #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen heeseung smut #enhaheeseung come back to me #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfic #heeseung angst #lee heeseung smut

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for calling the cops (twice, kind of) on someone in a car who swerved at me on the side of the road?

(Disclaimer: I hate cops. But I felt extremely threatened and wasn't going to let this go without something happening.)

I am a high school student and have not yet gotten my license, and therefore cannot drive alone. To get to school I ride an electric scooter, it looks a bit stupid as a high schooler but it is the only way possible for me to get to school on time. (I have a class before school in the morning, and both parents have work.) I've been doing this for over three years and have had no problems until recently.

Two or three weeks ago, I was on my way home from school. I noticed a car approaching from behind, and moved to the very edge of the road as I would normally. I was literally in the gutter on the side of the road, nowhere near where cars would be. This car, however, then sped up rapidly and swerved within 2-3 feet of hitting me. Probably not trying to actually hit me, but clearly trying to scare me or something of the sort. The person in the passenger seat was screaming the whole time.

The car sped off (I should mention that the speed limit on this road is 25 mph, and the car was going at least 50-60 mph) and after standing in shock for a moment I followed them home since they apparently lived in my neighborhood. I caught two teenage boys leaving the car, and asked if they had been in that car and had swerved at me on the road. They denied everything and went inside the house.

I went home and after a short while, came back with my father to back me up. Asshole move from me, I know, but he insisted on going in case the boys decided to get violent. I made him wait a short distance back, then rang the doorbell. Waited for a while, no answer. They were clearly still inside; the car was still parked on the road nearby and I hadn't been gone for long.

When they didn't answer, I then went home and called the police. I gave them the license plate number and the guy's address, and they said there had been reports of him speeding and being reckless before. The cops went to the house and yelled at them, and I thought it was over then. I most certainly did not want to press the issue any further, the shock and adrenaline was wearing off at this point and I just wanted to be done.

But several days later, I was sent screenshots of the driver of that car spreading hate about me on Snapchat for getting him in trouble. Now this is kind of difficult to explain, but I am unfortunately somewhat well known for riding an electric scooter to school. But up until this point, people just were aware of my existence. After the Snapchat posts and messages about me were spread, all of that turned into pure hate. Every time I was seen with that stupid scooter, people would scream that they wished I would fall and stuff like that. None of this had happened before, and I was (and am) miserable and scared. I don't feel safe anywhere around school because this is still ongoing.

I also tried to contact him via Instagram messages, to which he did not respond. That was three times that I attempted to contact him: first by following him as he was getting out of the car, second by ringing the doorbell, and third by messaging him.

Two days ago, I got my mom to pull me out of school early because I was feeling like crap after some particularly bad harassment in the morning. In the office as I was asking to sign out, I started crying in front of the school police officer, and she asked for the full story. I told her about the online posts and the catcalling and harassment I dealt with every day, and she took it very seriously. I didn't want her to do anything really, but she did anyway (I'm not upset about this honestly, it was probably a good thing). She said that the patrol officers usually didn't do much about stuff like this, but she could and would do a lot more.

She pulled the guy out of his class after I had left to go home, and in her words "put the fear of God in that kid"; telling him he should have lost his license and that since he was 18 he could face real consequences and go to jail for stuff like this. He has been told that he has to stay at least three feet away from me at all times.

Since then, he hasn't said anything to me in person, and hasn't posted anything publicly online. I still don't feel safe at school or anywhere in the area, but I've been taking an alternate route to try to avoid being seen and yelled at as much.

Am I the asshole? I honestly think we both might be, but I do feel somewhat justified by the fact that he at least got some sort of consequence for threatening my life like that and causing that level of problem.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[foreverdolly]

𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 | ex's best friend! austin butler x reader

summary: after a bad breakup with your cheating ex, the last thing you're expecting is for his best friend to side with you. at his insistence, you decide to let him accompany you to the arctic monkey concert in las vegas. what happens in las vegas doesn't always stay in las vegas.

warning/notes: one bed trope, SMUT! exhibitionism, fingering, unprotected sex, choking, begging, creampie, protective!austin, austin really said "fuck cheaters" with his whole chest in this fic

word count: 13,138

masterlist | requests are currently closed !

“Austin wouldn’t do that to you. Besides, I don’t even really know Jeremy anyway, so why the hell would he bring him?” You were currently holding Juniper, placing a few quick kisses to the top of her head as you bounced her in your arms. Your best friend was in the process of cubing cheese, getting ready for the wedding anniversary party she was throwing. You had offered to help earlier, but she had simply handed you her daughter. Juniper loved you the most out of any of her other friends, which was why she never threw fits when you were around. She simply tugged on your hair and played with your necklaces, content with just being around you.

“I don’t know. I’m just anxious, you know? I broke up with him a week ago, and you know how vindictive he is.” Jeremy was the type of person to go out of his way to make you uncomfortable. He was the absolute king of getting a rise out of you, and you hated that. You had a feeling that he had been spewing all types of bullshit Austin’s way, and despite the fact that you and Austin had been friends before you and Jeremy even dated, you knew that his loyalties would probably be with his male friend. It only made sense. 

“Come on, Y/n. Jeremy is a-” She lowered her voice as she looked up from the cutting board. “Asshole,” she whispered, shooting you and Juniper a small smile before going back to work with her knife. “But Austin isn’t. He asked specifically if you were going to be here tonight because he wanted to talk to you. He loves you both. Besides, you weren’t the one that got caught with a Tinder account. You aren’t the bad guy in this situation. Austin is a loyal friend, but he’s fair. He knows Jeremy is the one that messed up. When I talked to him last night he sounded super angry about it all.”

You rocked back on your heels, spinning around in a circle a few times just to make Juniper squeal before continuing your train of thought. “Yeah- no. . . you’re so right. I don’t want to make him choose a side, but he’s known Jeremy the longest. I know that if push came to shove, it wouldn’t be me he’d stick beside. That’s all.” You’d have to be an idiot to think that Austin would pick you over his longtime friendship. You had met Austin through a modeling gig towards the beginning of his career. The Hannah Montana era- which he still visually cringed at the mention of. You had been an assistant photographer back then, fresh out of high school, and the two of you had clicked. Two years later you both ran into each other at Ashley’s birthday party and decided to exchange numbers. Austin was the person that had introduced you to Jeremy in the first place. Of course, he probably never thought that the two of you would end up dating. You and Jeremy were polar opposites, which you had once found cute and quirky, but now realized was incredibly annoying and a waste of your fucking time.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” You heard Ashley mumble under her breath, but when you hummed at her, she merely shook her head. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.” She was quick to flash you an “innocent” smile. 

There was a knock at the door, and you were quick to shuffle off towards it. “No, no. I’ve got it.” Christopher called out, jogging ahead of you before opening the door. A few familiar faces shuffled in, giving Ashley’s husband tight hugs before moving over to you. You gave them side hugs, smiling softly to yourself as they cooed at the adorable baby in your arms before moving towards the kitchen. Words of congratulations were exchanged before they were ushered out the back door. “I’ll take her from ya.” Ashley walked over, scooping Juniper out of your arms before nodding towards the kitchen. “Can you cut up the carrots and celery for me? That’s all that’s left.” You were quick to salute her, a silent ‘you got it’, before moving over towards the kitchen island. She wrinkled her nose at you, blowing you a quick kiss before floating out the back door and to the waiting guests.

“I think you should stay another week. Having you around has been an absolute blessing, Y/n.” Chris told you, and as you looked up you could see that he wasn’t joking, but telling the truth.

“Ah, you guys need your privacy though. I just didn’t want to go back to our apartment until he moved all of his shit out.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “We have a big house. Besides, Juniper hasn’t been this well behaved in a while. She’s teething, and with you around she hasn’t been as fussy. Not only that but Ashley loves having you here. You live an hour away, and she misses you.” You shot him a warm grin before ripping open the bag of organic carrots, cutting off the stems before slicing them down the middle.

“Hey! In my defense you two are the ones that moved away from me.” He laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry for stealing her from you.” He teased before heading out the back door to follow after his wife. 

You’d met all of Ashley’s previous flings, and none of them were as fantastic as Chris. You couldn’t imagine her with anyone else. He loved her as well as her family and friends. He treated you like family, and you adored him for that. There was a soft knock on the front door again, and instead of putting your knife down to open the already unlocked door you simply called out that it was open. A lanky blonde pushed his way in, a large bouquet of flowers in his arms. For a second the two of you stared at each other, anxiety already gnawing at your stomach. Ashley’s words from earlier had only calmed you down a little. You weren’t sure what kind of conversation he wanted to have with you, but you were sure that probably wasn’t going to be good.

“Long time, no see.” He smiled softly at you, walking further into the house so that he could set the flowers down on the kitchen table before making his way over towards you. He stood across from you at the kitchen island, leaning over so that he could place his forearms against the granite. You rolled your eyes, shooting him a soft smile.

“It’s been two weeks.” You retorted.

He returned the smile, his blue eyes dancing over your face before he nodded. “Exactly. Long time.” 

For a few seconds the only sound that could be heard in the house was your constant chopping. You weren’t sure if he was waiting for you to say something or not. You weren’t sure what to say in this sort of situation. You were sure that something along the lines of ‘hey there, i know my shithead of an ex boyfriend is your best friend, but i’ve known you longer than i’ve known him, so i’m hoping we can still be friends’ probably wouldn’t go over too well with him.

“So Jeremy called me last week.” He started.

You sucked in a breath before placing the knife down on the cutting board. “Oh yeah? What did he say?” He cleared his throat before walking around the island, moving closer to your side. He leaned his hip against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked good, but when did Austin not look good? He was wearing white wash jeans, old boots that made him even taller, and a jean button up the same shade as his pants- tucked in with a belt. You would be lying if you said that you had never been attracted to your friend. He was a good looking guy, but he had just started dating Vanessa right around the time that the two of you got close. Not to mention that, but you weren’t the type of person to cross the boundary of friendship with someone that you were close to like that. That was how things got messy, and you didn’t like drama. 

“Well. . .” He pursed his lips for a second, his blue eyes flickering up to the ceiling for a second before he finally looked back down at you. It appeared that he was trying to find the right words to say. “He tried playing the victim for a few minutes, but caught on pretty quick that I wasn’t falling for it. I scolded him a little bit, and now he isn’t returning my texts.” Your mouth fell open, eyes going as wide as saucers. Austin had stood up for you? God, you knew that he was a wonderful person, but you didn’t expect that.

“He isn’t talking to you?” You were stunned.

Austin shook his head, mouthing the word ‘nope’ before reaching over for the knife that you had placed down. He went to work doing what you had been doing before, giving you the opportunity to assemble the vegetable board in a way that Ashley would find aesthetically pleasing.

“I’m sorry if I look a bit shocked, but I wasn’t expecting you to actually say anything to him.” He cleared his throat, his long fingers gripping the hilt of the knife tightly as he started to work on the celery.

“Being cheated on is a shit feeling, and the fact that he threw away almost five years with you is just plain stupid. He knows how I feel about it, and now he’s choosing to ignore the problem rather than to own up to anything.” Ashley had been right. It sounded like Austin really had picked a side. 

And it was yours. 

“How are you holding up though? I was waiting for you to reach out to me, but you never did.” He sounded a little hurt. You licked your lips before grabbing one of the small bowls Ashley had taken down out of the cabinet, filling it with the green goddess dressing the two of you had picked up at Whole Foods a few hours back.

“I’m doing surprisingly alright. I’ve been staying here with Ash and Chris for the last week, which has been pretty great,” You took a deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t reach out to you because I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position with Jeremy. I didn’t want you to feel any pressure on my end. Maneuvering friendships after a breakup like this is really hard.” He hummed in understanding, scooping up the celery in his hands before distributing it on the plate. His hand brushed yours, and he kept it there for a couple of seconds before moving it back down to his side.

“Look, I appreciate that, but I’m your friend too. You’re having a hard time, and I want to be there for you. Jeremy can be a selfish dick, but I’ve known him since we were kids. He’s always been like this. I don’t really expect too much out of him anymore, but just know that I’m really upset with him over this. When you two first started dating I had a feeling that this was how it would turn out. I tried to warn him about hurting you, but he didn’t seem to heed my advice.” He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest again. “Which isn’t surprising.” 

Sure, you’d heard some pretty choice words about Jeremy from Austin’s lips before after a drunken fight or some play-teasing that one of the boys took too far, but this was pretty full on. Whatever picture Jeremy had tried to paint for Austin the other day over the phone must not have been very nice. It made your stomach churn just thinking about what he had told his other friends. God, they must have thought you were some kind of a monster. That was the one thing you absolutely couldn’t stand. You were the one that had been hurt in this entire situation, but suddenly you’re the bad guy. You had done everything you could think to do in order to save your relationship with him. You knew that it wasn’t going to work out long term, but you still loved him. You don’t just waste five years of your life on someone you don’t love. The longer you spent away from Jeremy, the more and more you started to pull your head out of the clouds and come back down to earth. Even if it was a long way to fall- the realizations had been hard- but it was good. You had been biding your time with Jeremy. The two of you never really talked about marriage or children. It was almost like the two of you had just been in a relationship because it was convenient for the two of you. You were attracted to one another, you had mutual acquaintances, and it had just made sense to be together in your early twenties. Now? Now you just felt like a moron who had allowed herself to be mistreated all in the name of “love”. 

“Well I don’t know how you’ve put up with him for so long. I’ve only known him for five years and I’m starting to regret the day I ever met him.” You tossed a carrot onto the plate a little harder than you had meant to, and you cursed under your breath as it bounced off and landed right on the floor.

Austin bent down and picked it up for you, tossing it into the trash. “I guess you have me to blame for that. I wouldn’t have introduced you two if I knew that he would have hit on you. You aren’t the kind of girl he usually goes for. You’re unique and actually have a personality.” That made you laugh. Austin couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face as he watched you, and soon he was bumping his shoulder up against yours. “Do you need help with anything? I’d be willing to drop some of his stuff off at his place. Maybe egg his house? Might be therapeutic.”

You snickered, shaking your head. “No, he should have all of his junk out of my place by now. I gave him a week, and my neighbor said that he hauled a whole truck load of shit out. The only thing that’s causing me some stress right now is the fact that I spent way too much money on those Artic Monkey tickets and a hotel room up in Vegas, and now I can’t even go.”

His nose wrinkled as he looked down at you. “Why the hell wouldn’t you go? You need to get out of the house and have fun after all the shit you’ve been through this past week.” 

Yeah, you could really use a night out. 

Sure, getting wine drunk and watching Married at First Sight with Ashley was a blast, but you needed to get out of California for a bit, even if it was just a two day ordeal. The tickets had originally been a late birthday present for Jeremy, but he’d gone and fucked everything up. You’d already called the hotel only to find out that they don’t do refunds so short notice, and it was impossible to find someone to go with you. Ashley didn’t like the Artic Monkeys, and even if she was willing to go with you, there was no way you were going to inconvenience her any more than you already had. Jenny from work said that she would have loved to go with you, but her fiance had planned a surprise trip to Arizona to visit her elderly grandparents. The rest of your friends either weren’t big fans and weren’t willing to take the time off of work or already had plans. Sure, you could always go down there and stay by yourself. It would nice to have meaningless sex with a hot stranger, but over the years of inconsequential hookups you knew that doing something like that after a bad breakup only ever hurt you worse in the long run. There’s nothing bad about chasing your own pleasure, but you were better than that. Besides, getting even with your cocksucker of an ex wasn’t worth the possibility of contracting some kind of sexually transmitted disease, and Vegas was probably chalk-full of those. 

You also had your own safety to worry about. There was no way you trusted yourself to get drunk at the concert, hail an Uber and then crawl back to your hotel without something bad happening. Human trafficking was a real and serious thing, and you’d rather waste a little over a thousand dollars than something bad happen to you. “I wish I could go, but I’ve already asked everybody I could think of and they’re all busy. I’ll probably just try and sell the tickets or something.”

Austin’s eyebrows furrowed as he took a bite out of one of the carrots. He chewed a few times before hurriedly swallowing. “You didn’t ask me.”

And for a good reason. You didn’t hate the idea of being petty. Jeremy totally deserved it, but Austin didn’t. There was no way you were going to pull him into your drama. You gave him a look, and he let out a small chuckle before shaking his head, his blonde hair falling into his eyes. “No, I’m serious. I’ll go with you. I don’t have any shoots or interviews for a full week, and my upcoming project doesn’t start for another month and a half.” Ever since he was in that Elvis biopic his face had been plastered all over god’s green earth.

“Jeremy would-” He cut you off before you could finish.

“No, fuck that. You told me you spent like. .  . five hundred dollars on the hotel room for the night. Let’s just go, have a good time, and then we can both come back home refreshed. Besides, I love the Artic Monkeys. You know they’re one of my favorite bands. The tickets were sold out by the time I decided to buy one. Not only that, but I didn’t want to crash you and Jeremy’s date.” Austin did love the band just as much as you did. Also it was always a blast hanging out with him. You hadn’t been alone with him for years. You remembered how much fun the two of you used to have back in the day, and you could really use a good laugh. 

Breakups make people do dumb things. Some people bleach their hair in a desperate attempt to reinvent themselves, while others go on a month long drinking binge. You? You agreed to go to the concert with Austin. Your ex’s longtime best friend. Alone. “Yeah! You’re totally right. It will be fun.”

Austin threw his fist in the air, and once he had heard you laugh he threw his leg out in a half-assed move he had probably learned during one of his karate lessons, which only made you laugh that much harder. “It’s going to be great. God, I’ve never seen them in concert before. I’m actually pretty psyched right now.”

And you could tell. He was grinning ear to ear. That smile remained on his face for the rest of your best friend’s celebration, and he stuck to your side like glue throughout the entire night. Later that night he shot you a text, as if you would possibly forget the promise that the two of you had made.

You had asked a very tipsy Ashley what she thought about the situation, but her input wasn’t much help. “I think you should have sex. No! For real, girl. He thinks you’re hot so I think you should go for it.” She was ridiculously inebriated, and mostly everything she says when she’s drunk is either highly dramatized or completely nonsensical, so you disregarded the last comment.

If Austin found you attractive at any point during your friendship, then there was no reason why he would have introduced you to Jeremy in the first place. The two of you were strictly friends. . . even if you did find him attractive yourself. That didn’t mean that the feelings were mutual. 

You always used to enjoy road trips. That is, until Jeremy came along. The man always had something to complain about. Either his legs were cramping up, his ass felt sore for sitting too long, or he didn’t like the music you had turned on for the both of you to listen to. Going anywhere with that man was always a chore. Not to mention the fact that he always had something to say about your driving. Driving in the car with Austin reminded you what you loved so much about the open road. It was supposed to be fun and carefree, and when you had good company it was always a blast. Austin insisted on picking the music, which you definitely didn’t mind. He was still on an Elvis kick, and because of his major role in the movie he had a newfound love and respect for blues music. Towards the end of the four hour trip he had turned on the Artic Monkeys to get you both ready for the concert. You had sped down the interstate listening to his favorite songs by them, screaming the lyrics right along with him. Austin enjoyed driving with the windows rolled down, not caring about how his hair looked or how his ears popped. He must have enjoyed the feeling of the wind on his face. You followed his lead, rolling yours down as well. It really was therapeutic to get out of the state for a little while. The second you saw the sign for Nevada you practically moaned in relief. You were free, even if it was just for a little under forty-eight hours. 

A couple of times during the trip you had seen Austin lift his phone up, taking pictures of the desert road and videos of you singing your heart out, your hair in your face from the wind and a wide smile dimpling your cheeks. Ashley would always be your best friend, but you hadn’t felt this happy in months. Maybe even years. Austin appeared to be in the same boat. You hadn’t seen him stop smiling. Not even once. When the two of you finally pulled up to the hotel, which was only about ten minutes from the concert venue, the both of you were in high spirits. Austin grabbed your overnight bag for you as you climbed out of the car, which you thanked him for by opening the lobby door so that he could step into the hotel first.

“Hey there. I booked a room here about two months ago.” You gave the front desk clerk your first and last name, but he was staring straight behind you with wide eyes and a slack jaw. You almost rolled your eyes as Austin used his free hand to wave, knowing damn well that the man must be momentarily star struck.

“O-Oh. . . okay. Give me just one second.” The young man’s face flushed as he began typing away furiously at the computer. “Here’s your key cards for the room.” He went to hand it to you, but his hands were shaking so horribly that he dropped it. The short brunette cursed under his breath, scrambling to grab the small packet before handing it off to you.

“Before we head up, I just wanted to see if there might be any rooms available with two beds? I know that the one I booked was a suite with a king size.” You didn’t want to be difficult, but it was certainly worth a try. Austin took a step closer to you, leaning against the counter as he looked down at you. You ignored his gaze, waiting for the boy to check. 

“I’m so sorry, but we’re completely booked for the night. There’s a pretty big concert going on down the street in two hours, so all of the hotels in the area are probably completely booked up for the next week.”

You should have known that this would happen to you. You’d seen enough romcoms to know how this sort of situation went. Two platonic friends get stuck in the same hotel room together with just one bed. Of course this would happen.

You closed your eyes tightly for a few seconds before pocketing the hotel pamphlet. “Thank you.”

The boy shuffled awkwardly where he was standing before nodding his head towards Austin. “I know that this might be super lame, but my girlfriend absolutely loves you. I saw Elvis and. . . y-you killed it, man. Do you mind signing something for me?” Austin smiled warmly, placing the bags down on the floor.

“Not at all. Hey, thank you so much for seeing the film by the way. And tell your girlfriend that I said thank you for the support.” The boy nodded, quickly grabbing a blank sheet of paper out of the printer that he had beside the computer monitor, sliding that and a pen across the counter towards the blonde. You were used to people stopping Ashley while the two of you were out, so it wasn’t anything that you weren’t used to. For some odd reason, in this case at least, you felt an immense amount of pride wash over you. Seeing the way that he so sweetly interacted with a fan who was very clearly freaking out made you feel proud to have him in your life. Austin wasn’t just an amazing actor, but an amazing person as well.

“What are you all smiley about?” He asked you with a small smile on his face, bumping into you with his shoulder as you both walked into the elevator, pressing the button for the top floor.

“Just proud of you is all. It’s really amazing to see how far you’ve come.” Austin leaned back against the stainless steel wall as the doors began to close, and as you turned your head to face him he was quick to face the other way.

“Are you blushing?” You teased lightly. He was quick to wave you off with his hand, shuffling his feet until he had his back to you. You could still see him in the reflection of the wall, and you were quick to let out a small chuckle. “Don’t get all shy with me when I compliment you.” He shook his head a few times before facing you, blue eyes wide with shock. He had a sheepish grin on his face, and there was something about that expression that made your insides feel uncomfortably warm.

“I’m not used to you saying stuff like that to me in person.” Compliments had always made him feel embarrassed, which was why press tours made him feel a bit anxious. Austin was humble to the degree that whenever people went out of their way to remark on his work he sort of. . . shut down. His cheeks would heat up, he’d begin biting his lip, and he’d find it hard to make eye contact. He’d always been like that, ever since you first met him. Teasing him was fine, but whenever you very honestly commented on how well he was doing in his career? That was when the nervous ticks began. 

He was smiling to himself, staring straight ahead at the glowing buttons, watching as the numbers flickered on the screen, signifying that you were still a long way off until the top floor. The confined space was beginning to make you feel. . . odd. Your heart was pounding, you were becoming overly aware of how close you were to Austin, and all you could smell was his woodsy cologne. You were the type of person that used humor as a coping mechanism, so under your breath you began singing what you could remember of the Hannah Montana theme song. He was quick to give your arm a light thwack, his loud laughter echoing in the confined space.

“You ruined it. We were having a bonding moment, and you totally killed the mood.” He was still laughing though, his eyes twinkling mischievously. Exactly. Of course you didn’t admit that. Instead you only laughed, moving away from him as he gave you a gentle shove.

“Come on, dude. . . I mean- sometimes I’m in a jam and I have to make a plan. It might be crazy, but I do it any-” He grabbed you by your shoulders, giving you a few shakes. At this point you were both belly laughing, barely able to keep yourselves up as the elevator continued to jostle as you climbed higher and higher. The sound of his cellphone loudly ringing made the both of you quiet down though, and the second that he dug the device out of his pocket and you saw the name that was flashing across the screen? Dead silence. 

“Shit.” Austin cursed under his breath, his thumb hovering over the answer button as he debated whether or not he wanted to answer. Anxiety locked up your limbs as you fell limply against the wall, watching with wide eyes as he worried his lip with his teeth. “I’m going to answer it. Be quiet for a second.” He swallowed thickly before pressing the phone against his ear. “Hey, man.” There was a beat of silence before Jeremy’s loud voice came over the other end. He sounded mad. Really mad.

“What the fuck, Austin? Are you with Y/n right now?” Austin licked his lips, turning down the volume in an attempt to keep you from hearing whatever rotten things the rancid man was bound to say.

“We’re seeing a concert together. Why?” The blonde sounded guarded, a stark difference from the soft, teasing tone he had been using with you just seconds ago.

“Why? Are you seriously asking me that right now? You’re on a date with my girlfriend of five years after only a week of us being separated. What the hell is wrong with you?” You kept your eyes on the elevator, breathing a sigh of relief when you noticed that you were almost to your floor. It was almost as if Jeremy knew that you had finally allowed yourself to let loose and have fun. Whatever joy you had felt just minutes ago had been sucked from your body. Hearing his voice had been a catalyst, and suddenly all you were reminded of was just how wrong this whole situation was. Sure, he deserved it, but you weren’t the kind of person to go out of your way to be cruel.

Austin seemed to notice your shift in mood, because he reached a hand out, placing it on your shoulder as he spoke. “Y/n and I have known each other for well over five years, so I don’t think it’s weird for me to spend time with her. You can’t dictate when and where I see her anymore, Jeremy. She had an extra ticket and I offered to go. End of story.” Austin’s tone left no room for argument, but that didn’t mean that Jeremy didn’t try. 

“I had to find out through your instagram story that the two of you were even with each other right now. Do you know how embarrassing this is for me? You’re supposedly my best friend, and now you’re in Vegas with my ex. Do you not realize how fucked up this is? Am I in the fuckin’ twilight zone or something?” You didn’t even think about the fact that Jeremy might see Austin’s private story. You had been too preoccupied with actually being in the moment to even think of the repercussions. You knew that your ex would eventually catch wind of the two of you doing something like this, but you didn’t think he would have the audacity to call within the same day.

“Embarrassing for you?” You flinched at Austin’s tone, your heart rate picking up even faster. God, was this going to turn into a fight right now? You started shaking your head, trying to signal for him to give you the phone. Whatever anger Jeremy had, you were used to taking the brunt of it. You didn’t want Austin to be the one that got reprimanded over this situation. He had been nice enough to come with you, after all. Even if he loved the band, he was still doing you a major favor by tagging along and keeping you safe from whatever creepy men were surely lurking in the shadows of Las Vegas. He shooed you off with a gentle flick of his wrist, his eyes hardening on the steel elevator doors. “You got caught trying to cheat on your girlfriend of five years, and you’re the one that is embarrassed? Why? Because your ex and your single friend- who have known each other for years, might I add- are hanging out? You’re a fuckin’ piece of work man.”

“Fuck you! How the hell do you not see how big of a deal this is? You’re fucking her, right?” Austin groaned, letting his head fall back against the wall behind him with a gentle thud, his eyes screwed shut.

“I’m not fucking her. You’re painting this out to be some huge deal when it really isn’t. Stop spinning this false narrative so that you can play the victim. It isn’t going to work with me, Jeremy.” You ran your hand down your face, listening to the elevator as the floors continued to ding past. Jeremy must have recognized the noise too, because he was quick to speak up about it.

“So where are you two right now?”

Austin didn’t hesitate. “We’re heading up to our hotel room.” You instantly recognized the mistake though. Room. Singular.

“So you’re sleeping with her tonight? Austin, how fucking long has this been going on?” Great, now the paranoid asshole thought that you were the one that had been cheating. Maybe this had been what he was fishing for the entire time. He needed a reason to continuously slander you to all of your mutual friends. 

This was turning out to be a car-crash of a day. A fiery one too. You couldn’t seem to catch a break. You’d been smart enough to block Jeremy on all social media the night that you saw the notifications on his phone and kicked him out, but now you felt the need to unblock him just to message him. This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he could try to move on whilst still being knee deep in your relationship. Suddenly you’re the bad guy for trying to do the same? You hadn’t even come here with the intention of making a move on Austin. That had been the furthest thing from your mind, but you were so angry that suddenly it was on the table. You had always liked Austin. He was a fantastic guy, and had always gone out of his way for you without fail. Having sex with Austin might make things a bit awkward, but you sure as hell wouldn’t hate it. You just didn’t want him to think that he was a rebound hookup. 

Because let’s face it; you’d always had a bit of a crush on him. Seeing the way he was viciously protecting you right now only solidified that. He must have known that he was potentially ruining one of his longest standing friendships for you, and he didn’t seem to care. Austin wasn’t pulling any of his punches either. He was going straight for the throat. 

“If I’m so disappointed in you for cheating on her, why the hell would I go for her while she was still in a relationship with you? How does that make any fucking sense? Not to mention you went out of your way to control and nitpick every single little fucking thing she did, Jer. I wouldn’t do that to you, and I’m pissed off that you would even accuse me of something like this.” The door to the elevator opened loudly, and Austin was the first one to walk out, the two duffle bags swinging in his right hand while he held the phone up to his ear with the left. You couldn’t hear what Jeremy was saying now that you were out in the hall, but it must not have been good, because the second that Austin walked up to the correct room number he tossed the duffle bags down, throwing his free hand up into the air exasperatedly. “You’ve always gone out of your way to keep us away from each other. It hurt my feelings, but I understood and dealt with it. We get along too well and you felt threatened.” You scrambled to reach into your pocket with a shaking hand, trying desperately to find the keycard.

“Yes you were,” A beat. “No, Jeremy. You felt threatened. Every single adult woman that I know has at least one male friend. Ashley has a husband and we still call and text almost every day. It’s normal. The only thing that isn’t ‘normal’ is you in this situation.” Austin nodded his head in a silent thanks as he pushed his way past you and into the hotel room. He placed your duffle bag down onto the bed, keeping a hold on his own as he made his way towards the bathroom. You were still standing in the entryway, feeling like your limbs were locked up from the shock and stress of it all.

He brushed past you, and it was then that you could hear what Jeremy was saying. “-and I always knew you had a thing for her! So why the hell would I leave you alone with her? I’m a guy! I know how guys are!” Austin was quick to shut the door to the bathroom, not wanting you to hear any more of the conversation. You could hear the zipper to his bag and his hushed voice, but other than that you couldn’t make out anymore of the conversation. 

“I’m not trying to be difficult, but my friend will most likely get ambushed if we try to enter through the main line.” You had asked to speak with the manager of the venue, chewing your bottom lip anxiously as he narrowed his eyes on you.

“And tell me again who your friend is?” The man asked gruffly.

The last thing you wanted was to try and come off privileged, but this certainly wasn’t a ploy to try and cut the lines. Someone was bound to recognize Austin, even in a dimly lit concert hall, but the last thing you needed was for all hell to break loose. There were at least a few thousand people that would be attending the show, and protecting your friend was your top priority. He had gone out of his way to show you support throughout the entire day. He had ruined his friendship with Jeremy all so that he could be there for you. You could tell just by the look on his face when he had stepped out of the bathroom that things had blown up far worse than they had in the elevator. It was over. By the time that the two of you headed back home, you were sure that everyone in your tight knit group would think that you were a homie hopper of epic proportions, and Austin would be losing one of his oldest friends. For now the two of you didn’t want to think about that though. Right now, at this very moment, the two of you wanted to drink overpriced beer and act like fools in front of Alex Turner. 

“Austin Butler.” The guy blinked a few times before realization dawned on him.

“Ah!” He pointed at you, nodding his head enthusiastically. “He was in that Quentin Tarantino film.” You snapped your fingers, nodding your approval.

“That’s the one. He was recently in the Elvis biopic, which is really the only reason why I’m hoping you can just scan our tickets and get us in the dark building.” The short, stocky man nodded a few times, music pumping away loudly in the building. The opening act hadn’t started yet, but they were bound to play any minute. Adults and teenagers of all ages were lined up around the building, chattering excitedly with one another.

“I loved that one line of his. ‘I’m as real as a-’”

“‘ Donut, motherfucker,’” You finished hurriedly for him, laughing nervously. “Yeah, yeah. It was hilarious. What do you say though,” You looked down at his nametag. “Anthony? Can I go ahead and wave him on over? I don’t want him to get out of the uber if you can’t help us though.” The second that people started clamoring out of line to get pictures and autographs was the second that you would both probably be forced to leave. Anthony nodded, grabbing his walkie talkie off of his hip and bringing it up to his mouth.

“I’ve got two VIPs up front that are going to need an escort. Stand by.” You turned your body towards the silver Hyundai, waving animatedly at the car. Austin must have been watching you, because the second you gave him the “okay” signal, he was up and out of the car.

“Thank you.” You heard him say to the driver before closing the door, quickly jogging over to your side. He tucked in close to you, smiling down at Anthony. 

For a second the older but shorter man just stared up at Austin. “Holy shit, you weren’t lying.” You let out a nervous laugh, bouncing on the balls of your feet. You thanked god that you were wearing your comfortable heeled boots. You had already been standing outside for nearly thirty minutes. You could hear whispers in the line beside you, and while Austin didn’t dare to turn his head to face anyone, you anxiously did. Sure enough, a group of young girls were staring directly at the both of you.

“Come on you two, I’m going to take you through the side entrance.” He told the both of you, already walking off in the direction of the building.

Austin breathed out a quick thanks before reaching down, taking your hand in his as the two of you began walking through dimly lit doors. The concert venue already smelled of alcohol and women’s perfume. Whether it was the Nevada temperatures or the amount of bodies that were already packed in the room, the building was stiflingly hot, even in the back corridors. You blinked your eyes as you passed by a few black chests, squinting ever so slightly to read the words painted on the side.

“I think this is their stuff.” You leaned in to whisper to Austin, who was quick to whip his head around.

“Holy shit. Are we. . . backstage right now?” He mumbled, though quickly shut his mouth as Anothony turned to face the both of you.

“Did you guys want to get any beverages? Once I put you guys in your spots, there’s really no leaving.” Austin reached into his back pocket and pulled out his card.

“Is there any way that someone could grab us a few beers?” Anthony took Austin’s card from him and waved over another person who was wearing a black “staff” shirt. They whispered something to one another before Anthony quickly shuffled off. 

“What if he stole my card?” Austin turned to look at you, smiling widely.

You rolled your eyes, letting out a small scoff. “Oh my god. You’d shit yourself.” The blonde let out a small laugh, rocking back on his own vintage boots.

“The night would definitely go to shit, that’s for sure.” He wrinkled his nose in that adorable way that you loved so much, and you found yourself getting caught up in the moment again. Austin had this wonderful way of making everything feel alright. The world suddenly felt steady beneath your feet. You could breathe in his presence. “Let’s have a good night, alright? We didn’t drive here.”

“Meaning we can get wasted?”

His lips twitched up into a small, naughty smile. The moment felt very personal. Special. You had almost forgotten about his hold on your hand, because you nearly jumped when he gave it a small squeeze. “I think that we both deserve a drink.” 

You lost count somewhere after your fourth beer. You weren’t a lightweight, but the last time either of you ate anything was hours ago, so the alcohol went straight to your head. You excitedly raised your beer above your head as the band finished up their third song of the night. Austin laughed at you, but was quick to raise his own beer as well. You couldn’t remember the last time that you felt this comfortable around a guy before. Here you were, in a highly populated area and drunk to boot, feeling more safe than you ever had in your own home with your ex. Austin stood behind you, his free arm wrapped around your shoulders, his forearm pressing against your neck. Maybe he wanted to make sure that you didn’t leave his sight. Or better yet, maybe he just wanted to be as close to you as possible. You were too inebriated to think too far into things. During the opening act, when you were a little bit more perceptive to your surroundings, you had seen a few people taking photos of you and Austin. You were positive that he must have known as well, but he didn’t bat an eye. He stuck close to you, leaning in to whisper jokes, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. He had even pulled out his own phone, pressing his forehead against the top of your head as he kept the camera pointed at the stage. Every once and a while security would walk over and take the empty beer bottles out of your hands, waltzing off so that they could quickly replace them for you both. 

Austin had the top buttons of his shirt undone, so when you turned your cheek further into his embrace, you felt his bare skin against your face. It was hot enough in the building that you both were sweating, your hair sticking to your cheeks and the back of your neck. A few strands of wavy hair currently clung to the skin just below his temples. You were trying your hardest not to stare up at Austin, because the longer you looked, the more beautiful he became. You could feel your hair sticking to his chest as you leaned your head back against him, blinking up at him as the stage lights flashed. Fans began to cheer loudly as Nick O’Malley played the opening notes of the song Arabella. You watched Austin’s smile widen, his eyes twinkling in the bright blue lights. He must have felt your gaze on him, because he looked down at you.

“What?” You couldn’t hear him with how loudly the music was playing, but you could feel his chest vibrating against your cheek as his deep voice sounded. You could see his plush lips form the words.

“I just love you.” You shouted back up at him. Because you did. Really and truly. Austin was one of the best people that you ever had the pleasure of meeting, and you hoped that he felt the same. 

You weren’t an idiot though. You saw how he treasured you and your friendship. He had proved how wildly protective he was over you. You saw the way that he was looking at you right now. He didn’t have to say it back, because everything that he had done tonight said it for him. Every gentle brush of his knuckles against the skin of your bare shoulders. Every featherlight kiss on the top of your head. Every sway of his hips as he danced right along with you, matching your goofy energy effortlessly. The smile that he shot back down to you was blinding, and right on cue one of the staff breezed by, reaching out for your empty drinks. Austin grabbed yours out of your unsteady hands, leaning in close to the other man to say something that you didn’t hear. Now that the two of you were no longer nursing your drinks, Austin swung you around, throwing his head back as you let out an excited shriek. You pressed your chest in close to Austin, breathing out a small laugh as Austin pressed his forehead against yours as the two of you swayed back and forth. His large hands were holding tightly to your hips, dragging them against his as you both swayed in place. His knee was in between your legs so that he could be the one in control of your movements. You weren’t sure if you would be able to keep either of you steady if he had let you take the reigns. 

The other concert-goers bodies were pressed in tightly to you, but they were all dancing with their own partners, some of them kept their phones out to film the performance and the crowd. In that moment you suddenly remember just who he was and the fact that he was dancing very provocatively with you.

“What if someone takes a video of us?” You pressed your lips against his ear as you spoke. You felt him shiver against you, having to bite your own tongue to keep yourself on your best behavior.

He was shaking his head before you even finished. “Fuck it.” 

We deserve it. 

You remembered his words from earlier on in the night. You were usually the kind of person that over thought every decision that they ever made. You were anxious by nature, which was why being with someone like Jeremy had only served to worsen your mental health. Dancing with Austin like this in a crowd of people that no doubt knew exactly who he was probably wasn’t a very good idea. Drunk or sober, you probably would have put yourself into this exact same situation. Why? Because this was the most fun that you have had in years. You felt free. Actually free. You were with someone that looked out for you and cared for you, and if he wanted your chest pressed right up against his so that he could feel you better- then damn it. You were going to let him. His long fingers tangled themselves into your hair as he slid his palm up to the base of your neck. You could see your lashes as your eyes became half lidded, and felt the heaviness of the thick mascara you had applied before leaving the room. The glitter that you had applied to the tops of your cheeks and the inner corners of your eyes had rubbed off on Austin. It was on his chin, his own cheeks, and his chest. The stage lights flashed from blue to red as the chorus picked up, the drums pounding in your ears. 

As Arabella! Arabella! Just might have tapped into your mind and soul.

You leaned up on your toes so that you could press your forehead against Austin’s, both of your eyes still half lidded and glued to one another’s. “You can’t be sure.” He mouthed the words, his plush lips brushing against yours. Once again your lips were twitching up into a smile, and you reached your own hand up, grabbing a fistful of his wavy locks so that you could press his forehead even harder against yours. 

That’s magic in a cheetah print coat. Just a slip underneath it I hope. 

The lights flashed again, going from red to a deep purple. The two of you were now fully wrapped up in each other, the both of you covered in your glitter, your bare skin dewing with sweat. You’d never wanted to kiss someone so badly before. Not once in your life. It was painful just standing there, gripping onto one another like your lives depended on it. Neither of you were dancing anymore. You both had stopped your movement the second that Austin’s lips had brushed against yours. You could see the gentle question in the man’s blue eyes. Would it be a mistake? Would this just be a one time thing for the both of us? Would it mean as much to you as it would for me? 

Asking if I can have one of those organic cigarettes that she smokes. Wraps her lips round the Mexican Coke. 

You were too buzzed to overthink anything anymore. You were sick and tired of being worried about everything. You had a bad habit of overcomplicating things in your head, when in actuality it was really quite simple. You and Austin were far from strangers. You found him attractive, and his actions tonight had you questioning whether or not Ashley really had meant what she had said the other night about him having a thing for you years back. Would it really be a mistake if something really did happen between you? You were both single, and even though you and Jeremy had only been separated for a week, things had gone sour years ago. The tears that you had shed over the situation were those of anger. You were embarrassed about the fact that you had unknowingly allowed yourself to be taken advantage of. You didn’t miss him. If you kissed Austin, it sure as well had nothing to do with Jeremy. So as Austin leaned forward, his blue eyes still locked on yours, you couldn’t help but urge him forward. 

Makes you wish that you were the bottle. Takes a sip of your soul and it sounds like- 

His lips were softer than you expected, but you blamed it on the fact that you had been kissing your ex’s dusty ass exclusively for far too long. He kissed you tentatively at first, testing out the waters, but as the guitar solo continued to press on, the crowd cheering loudly all around you, the lights flashing behind your closed eyes, his timidness began to dissipate. You clung tightly at his shoulders as your lips moved fluidly against his. It felt like years of pent up attraction was being put into this kiss. It felt heavenly and hellish all at once, and you knew that if you could devour Austin in that moment then you would have. The venue largely smelled of other women’s perfume and beer, but now that you were as close to Austin as you could possibly be, you were able to really smell him again. His signature scent had changed multiple times over the years, as had yours. His natural scent was something that you had never been able to fully describe though. It made everything smell a bit darker- more earthy in a way. The woodsy, amber notes of his current cologne made your head spin. 

His rings pulled on a few strands of your hair as he gripped harder onto the base of your neck, pulling you as close as humanly possible. If you thought that it was hard to breathe before, now it was impossible. Austin was crushing you to him, the hand that had tangled itself into your hair gripping hard at your hip. There was a small, nagging voice chattering in the back of your head, trying to tell you that it wasn’t a good idea to be making out in the middle of a crowd of people. You normally would have been worried about whether or not you were making others uncomfortable, but you couldn’t think of anything else outside of Austin. You could feel his fingers digging into your hip, his digits slipping beneath the flowy fabric of your top. The band had only played four songs and you were already more than ready to head back to the hotel. There was raw desperation in the way that Austin was touching you, almost as though he was panicked that at any second this might be taken away from him. That you might be taken away. 

His lips were no longer timid against yours, rather demanding and possessive. Whether you knew it or not, he was claiming in that sea of people. Pressing hard enough to bruise and committing your taste to memory. His tongue claimed your mouth, the palm of his hand dragging upwards over your stomach, his fingers grazing over your underboob. He froze, pulling away from your lips to let out a small hiss. You didn’t need to hear every word he said- you felt them against your mouth. Swallowed them as he spoke to you.

“You’re not wearing a bra.” It was less of a question and more of an observation.

You could feel the drums echoing in his chest against yours, and let out a small whimper as his fingers moved upwards another inch, cupping you through your shirt. All someone had to do was look over at the two of you and they would immediately be able to see what was going on. You weren’t about to shy away from Austin because of a few prying eyes.

“No.” You breathed against his lips, swallowing thickly as you felt him groan deep in his chest, giving your breast a small squeeze.

“I’m trying so hard to be good right now.” You pulled away another inch so that you could look up at him.

His cheeks were flushed a pale pink, lips kiss swollen and glossy with the combination of both of your saliva. His eyes? No one had looked at you like that in years, and even if they had, they sure as hell weren’t Austin. His dirty blonde hair, in the yellow stage light, looked golden halo. The damn near biblical beauty that the man possessed was offset by the dark look in his eyes. They were blown out wide, practically black as he looked down at you. His jaw was clenched, and you could tell that every bit of beauty that you were currently finding in his face, that he was currently finding in yours as well. 

You weren’t sure how many minutes had passed, but you must have missed a few songs. People were cheering all around you as “R U Mine” echoed over the speakers.

“This ones a classic.” You tried to lighten the mood, swaying your body back and forth ever so slightly.

Your hips dragged against his with the movement, and you could feel just how hard he was for you. You hadn’t even touched him yet, and he was stiff to the point of pain. He let out another groan, letting his head tilt back towards the ceiling as he closed his eyes tightly. His hands were still holding you to him, but you could feel them beginning to shake. His restraint was steadily crumbling.

“Yeah,” He breathed, pressing his hips harder against yours. “Classic.”

You weren’t sure how you were even able to stand anymore. You were suddenly stone cold sober, all of the alcohol burning right out of your system. You felt like you were burning up, suddenly overaware of the warmth pooling in between your legs. Consequences be damned, you wanted to fuck him. You needed to fuck him. You didn’t care about how other people might feel about it, or even how it might make you look. 

You were sick and tired of being unhappy. You were sick and tired of being sexually unfulfilled. You were sick and tired of being attracted to Austin and unable to say anything. People often say that “timing is key”. Well. . . now was the right time. You were sure of it. Jeremy, over the years, had somehow convinced you that it was better to be docile. Women that were bold with their sexuality weren’t sexy at all to him, rather just whorish. You felt yourself beginning to hesitate, worried that somehow your brazenness might send him the wrong message. Because you were needy, but that didn’t mean that this didn’t mean something to you. The way that Austin was staring at you though silenced your fears without him having to utter a word. In a sea of beautiful women, he had stared at you all night as though you were the only one that existed. He had tunnel vision, and it had been that way for years. He had been happy for his friend when the two of you started dating, and moved on with Vanessa. But you’d always been on his mind. Whether this was just a one night stand to you, or perhaps a backwards way of getting revenge on Jeremy. . . He couldn’t find it within himself to care. He’d let you use him in whatever way you saw fit, just so long as he could have you. Even just once. 

People were pressing in on the two of you as they danced and sang along to the music, and he pressed you in closer to him to make room for the others. Your hands brushed over his chest, slowly making their way down his abdomen to the front of his jeans. He sucked in a breath, eyes widening as he took in your delicious expression. He loved seeing you so confident. You were always gorgeous, no matter what you did, but you were otherworldly in your confidence. If there was enough room to do it, he would have fallen to his knees in front of you. Dressed in all black, your hair slightly limp with sweat, your glitter face catching the light just right. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. His expression pushed you to go further, pressing your palm a bit harder against his length and giving it a few gentle rubs. He twitched in his pants, lurching forward a bit as he let loose a rather loud groan. You two had earned a few stares throughout the night, but thanks to the popular song no one was paying either of you any attention.

“I need to fuck you. Please. Please let me fuck you.” 

The uber ride was spent in tense silence, the two of you unable to take your hands off of one another. He never let go of your hand, placing soft kisses against your face as the minutes ticked by and you began to get closer to the hotel. The driver must have realized that now was certainly not the time to make small talk, because the only thing he said to either of you was your name when you opened the car door, just to make sure that you were the right person. You both uttered a quick thank you before climbing out of the car. Austin practically yanked you through the double doors of the hotel, still shaky and slightly sweaty from the concert. The second that he had gotten you into the hotel and pressed the button, the heavy metal doors rattling closed, he had you pressed against the wall. In the blink of an eye you had been pushed back a few steps, his large hands scooping both of your wrists up so that he could press them above your head, rendering you useless. The cool stainless steel bit into your skin as he pressed you harder against it, his jean covered hips pressing against your stomach. 

He kissed you like he loved you and hated you all at the same time. 

You felt like you were going to explode. Like he was pressing into you so hard that your ribs might give out and break. Honestly you didn’t mind that idea. If you could have absorbed Austin into your body somehow, you would have. He was everywhere. His scent was heavy in your nose, the taste of him on your tongue as he devoured you, and you could feel every inch of his body pressed up against you. Trapping you there against the wall. He kept your wrists gripped in one hand, his free hand running down your body, hastily unbuttoning the front of your tight pants.

“C-Cameras.” You mumbled against his lips, opening your eyes so that you could nervously eyed the corners of the elevator. Sure enough, there was one situated right on the both of you. “The front desk can see us.” Your voice came out hoarse, and as his lips moved to your cheek and down your neck, you couldn’t help but let out a breathy sound. A cross between a sigh and a moan as you tried to keep the noises at bay.

“He can watch.” He mumbled against your skin. 

“Holy fuck.” His voice had never sounded so deep in your ears before. You could barely breathe as his hand slipped down the front of your pants, easily slipping past the thin fabric of your underwear. He took a second to feel the fabric between his fingers, and you could feel him smile against your neck. “Lace?” You couldn’t even nod. All words had completely escaped you as well. “Cute.”

And then he was pressing into you, fingers running along your velvety folds. He swallowed thickly, his hold on your wrists becoming so tight that it was slightly painful. You didn’t care. You wanted him to hurt you. Any sensation was a good sensation at this point. He must have felt how wet you were already for him. Now he knew that kissing him at that concert had practically killed you. “So soft.” He spoke gently to you, but his deep voice cracked. He was trying to stay soft with you, but now that the dam had finally broken, it was hard to keep himself in check. There were years of pent up sexual tension finally bubbling to the surface. 

His lips continued to press against your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin every once in a while. You were sure that there would be marks tomorrow morning. Either he wasn’t thinking about the dark hickeys that he was leaving or he just didn’t care. You would take whatever he gave you. You wanted it all. His finger pressed against that small bundle of nerves, causing your hips to jerk forward in surprise. He let out a small hiss, removing his lips from your neck so that he could run his nose gently up the expanse of your throat, straightening out to his full height so that his smoldering eyes could bore into you.

“Be good for me, okay? I need you to stand as still as possible.”

You nodded quickly, the elevator floors flashing on the digital screen behind Austin. You didn’t even remember pressing your floor number. You could be headed to the roof for all you knew. He leaned back down, pressing his face into your neck once again so that he could get better leverage. The height difference, in this case, was beginning to get annoying. His fingers gathered up your slick before pressing against your entrance. He didn’t ask for permission or warn you, rather he just slipped them inside of you without any hesitation. It felt good to be full- though you still weren’t as full as you would have liked to be. Having something inside of you was still enough to have your head lolling back against the elevator wall, your eyes screwing shut tightly as you tried to keep your hips as still as possible. 

“That’s my good baby.” My.

You wanted to scream. His fingers curled slightly inside of you, his thumb pressing against your clit as he began to successfully work you up into a frenzy. You were already worked up to the point that you could feel yourself immediately building up, your abdomen tightening with every thrust of his fingers and every brush of his thumb. That combined with his teeth and tongue constantly teasing the skin of your throat- it was more than enough. When was the last time that anyone had actually made you cum? It was sad, really. You always went out of your way to pleasure your ex and never got anything in return. Austin was taking his time with you though, almost like his own pleasure was an afterthought. He wanted to possess you first. He wanted to work you up until you couldn’t think about anything else other than fucking him. 

The elevator chimed, the doors rattling open. You let out a whimper when he slowly slipped his fingers out of you, watching as he smiled that slow, sly smile of his. Much to your relief there was no one in the hall, so when he let your sore wrists go you practically stumbled through the hall, trying desperately to find your room. Austin’s large hand found your wrist again, pulling you in the right direction. You tried to keep up with him and his long legs, your own feeling unsteady beneath you.

“W-Where’s the keycard?” He seemed so put together and in control in the elevator, but his stutter told you everything that you needed to know. He was just as wrecked as you were. Barely able to hold it together. He reached into your back pocket before you could tell him, his hands sliding over your rear. He “tsked” softly when he found what he was looking for, quickly sliding it into the handle and yanking it open wide. You winced as the knob slammed against the door, but you were past worrying about any noise complaints or the possibility that you might have neighbors. Austin was slipping his shirt off of his shoulders before the door was even fully closed, kicking off his boots as quickly as he could before descending upon you. His hands gripped at your hips, pressed the fabric of your pants down and off of your legs. He took a second to pull back so that he could admire your panties.

“Just like I thought. Cute.” You squirmed under his heated gaze, moving your hands to your shirt so that you could remove that too. He brushed your hands away though, wanting to do it for you. 

There was a possibility that this might be the first and last time that he got to do this, and he wanted to be able to fully enjoy the moment. He let his eyes explore every inch of your skin, his fingers dancing along the soft skin of your back, moving to cup your breasts in his hands. You felt impatient, but you didn’t complain. You allowed him to admire you. Seeing the way that he looked at you reminded you that you were worthy of love. You hadn’t felt beautiful in a while, but seeing Austin panting over your body put it into perspective for you. You were never the problem. It was him. 

“I want you to keep your feet planted on the ground, but turn around and face the bed.” Austin was unzipping his jeans after what felt like an eternity of gentle touches and heady exploration.

You were quick to do as he said, but grunted when he gently pushed you forward. You planted your forearms on the bed, keeping your back arched, your ass in the air. He sucked in a breath, his belt jingling as he kicked the pants off. He must have liked the panties more than he was letting on, because he merely slipped them to the side, taking a good look at your warmth.

“Fuck, so pretty.” You believed him.

He slid his hand over his length, giving it a few good pumps before he froze. “I don’t have a condom.” He mumbled out, defeat edging its way into his voice.

“I’m on birth control.” It was irresponsible, you knew that. Saying something like that was so unlike you, but you truly felt like you would regret it for the rest of your life if you didn’t fuck him tonight.

“I’m willing to risk it if you are.” He seemed to be in the same boat. 

You quickly nodded, gripping the duvet covers tightly between your fingers as you felt the head of his member press against you. “Please. Please just fuck me.” You didn’t need him to try and warm you up- to gently slip in so that it wouldn’t be a painful fit. You needed him inside of you. He didn’t say a word, rather he let out a loud moan at your panicked insistence and pressed his hips forward. At this angle it felt like he was in your stomach. Pain and pleasure melted together, a loud moan leaving your own mouth as you let your forehead press against the soft mattress. The pace that he immediately set had you gripping for dear life onto the blankets, the nicely made bed a mess in seconds. Austin kept one hand planted on the small of your back, the other one gripping hard at your thigh. You could feel the weight of his stare on your ass, and you somehow managed you twist your torso so that you could watch him. Seeing the expression on his face was enough to have you letting loose another moan. He was gorgeous, his sharp jawline twitching as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. His blue eyes were fully focused on you, eating up every jiggle of soft supple skin. You watched him pump in and out of you, reaching a hand back so that you could feel the assault. Your fingers ran along his length, slick from your own heat and his precum.

“Fuck.” He cursed again, his eyes flickering to your face. He removed his hand from your back, reaching out for you, leaning over your body so that he could grab your neck. He pulled you until your back was against his chest, still pistoning in and out of you. The hand that was on your thigh repositioned itself so that he could lift your leg, making it easier for him to fuck you at the same startling pace. He was using the height difference to his advantage. 

He squeezed down on your neck, his wet lips pressing against your cheek, the corner of your lips- anywhere he could reach. You were close. He had edged you enough in the elevator, and the angle was enough to have you gasping for air. “Not yet.” He must have felt your fluttering walls and known what was about to happen. You weren’t sure how long you could push off your climax. You shook your head quickly, your lips parted, eyes squeezing shut. He quickened his pace, his hips snapping into you. You could feel his moans rumbling in his chest, his breathy pants hot in your ear.

“Gonnacumgonnacumgonnacum-” You were past the point of being able to form coherent sentences.

“I wanna cum with you. I’m close.” There was something so endearingly intimate about the way that he said it. 

“Where do you want it? Tell me quick.” He breathed out. And maybe your decision made you stupid. Maybe Austin had fucked all of the common sense right out of your body, but your answer was immediate.

“Please for the love of god cum inside of me.” His grip on your throat tightened, and he breathed your name against the top of your head. “Fill me up. Please-”

“Oh fuck, I’m going to pump you full.” He spoke through clenched teeth. 

Without any warning the hand that was on your throat moved down, his palm pressing against your abdomen as he worked your clit. The stimulation along with the brutal way he was fucking you was enough to push you over the edge. You didn’t have time to silence yourself. Didn’t have time to try and be courteous to anyone else. Your moans turned to screams, your eyes closing tightly as he continued to pound into you. You felt him twitch inside of you, his hold on your thigh tightening to the point where you were sure to have a palm sized bruise there tomorrow. His warmth spilled inside of you, his heavy pants dissolving into moans. It was a string of curses, followed by your name. He took extra care with shaping each syllable of your name. He wanted you to know without really having to actually say it. 

Please don’t let this be a one time thing. Please- god. 

You woke up to the sound of your alarm clock, your hand blindly reaching for the bedside table so that you could press the snooze button. Austin grumbled at your side, his hold on your waist tightening. He had held you all throughout the night. He had been insistent on it, following you closely even when you moved in your sleep. You were scared that he might regret having sex with you in the light of day, but judging on the way he nuzzled his cheek against your bare skin, he didn’t regret a thing. You smiled lazily, reaching down to detach one of his arms from your stomach so that you could bring it up to your face, giving it a warm kiss. He sighed contentedly into your hair, returning the sweet sentiment by giving the back of your head a kiss. 

You were quick to check your phone notifications, wanting to make sure that your ex hadn’t found some way to harass you throughout the night. Thankfully you saw nothing from him- but a hundred messages from other people. Co-workers, friends- even family members had texted you. Ashley’s contact was the first one that you clicked on though- per usual. Your best friend had barraged you with texts throughout the night. Asking you how the ride up there was. Then asking you about the show. Somewhere around the twelve o’clock mark she had sent you a screenshot from instagram. From the person’s profile picture it looked like a regular girl- but right there, in the crowd, was you and Austin. 

You were quick to scroll down, clicking on one of the many links that she had sent you. 

“Austin Butler caught in a heavy makeout sesh with a mystery girl at the Las Vegas Artic Monkeys show.” “Who is Austin Butler’s mystery girlfriend? Read more to find out.” “Austin Butler caught locking lips with talented photographer friend.” And sure enough, people had been able to find you. Your instagram had been leaked, internet detectives able to find you within the timespan of less than twelve hours. You had old pictures of you and Austin posted from years ago, and so of course news outlets had uploaded those. 

“Um. . . Austin?” He grunted, and you were quick to try and detangle yourself from his arms. “L-Look at this.” You were quick to push the phone into his face. He tried to blink the sleep from his eyes, focusing on the words. “Oh.” 

“Oh?” 

“They called you talented. That’s nice.”  “Good God, why are you like this?”

thank you for the emotional support, you sweet sluts: @powerofelvis @ggwritesstuff @woundmetender @eliseinmemphis @polksalademma @sournatromanoff @flwrs4aust @headfullofpresley @cryingabtab @austinbutlersbaby @lindszeppelin @rosaminny

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#foreverdolly #ex's best friend #austin butler #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #x reader #austin butler x you #reader insert #austin butler reader insert #elvis 2022 #fanfiction #fanfic writer #austin butler fandom #austin butler fluff #elvis movie #elvis baz luhrmann #elvis film #austin!elvis fic #austin!elvis x y/n #oneshot #austin butler oneshot #fluff #celebrity x reader

[samuskitchen]

a hopeless romantic all my life.

⇒ osamu x hopeless romantic!reader

summary : struggling to find your true love, you decide to give up on searching for a relationship, turns out the phrase “love finds you when you aren’t looking.” has some merit to it.

warnings : none that i can tell!

genre : fluff , self indulgent asf, maybe a little tiny hint of hurt/comfort?

a/n : sick of men disappointing me, literally am never confessing to a guy ever again. WHY ARE THE MEN IN AUSTRALIA SO LAME WAAAAAAAA

w/c : 1.5k

you were first introduced to love through fairytales and fantasies at the age of five. by the age of 8 you believed you’d get your own fairytale love, you’d expressed your biggest dreams and wishes to the pearly white star in the sky. by the age of 13 you were determined to fall in love with your soulmate, full of hopes that he existed and was searching just as impatiently for you.

by the age of 19 you realised fairytales were a scam and that cupid would not be shooting you, or the stranger who offered his parking spot during your parallel parking struggles, with his blessed arrow of love. you’d done everything to make the process easier for that big-cheeked baby with the heart shaped bow. dating apps and school clubs, confessing to every guy you had feelings for, begging your friends to put in a good word with the cute guy in their class, yet nothing ever stuck.

so you gave up, if cupid wasn’t going to give you the romance anime love you craved so badly, you’d stop trying so hard. you resigned from putting any more time or effort into love, so sure that it wasn’t real and was not worth searching for.

and yet, here you are standing in front of the miya osamu, the cute chef in training at the restaurant owned by your uncle. so maybe the onigiri’s he’d given you during every visit were his way of expressing his affections for you, or maybe he genuinely needed someone to try out his recipes as he worked his way through his culinary course and his job at the ramen store. either way, your heart fluttered as he stared at you.

“i- uh…” your mouth opened and closed in shock, as you tried processing everything that just happened within the short span of five minutes.

8 year old yn would be kicking her feet in excitement, and 13 year old yn would be in awe that someone as handsome and as hardworking as osamu was interested in you. 18 year old yn would’ve been certain that you’d never see the day someone would turn the tables and confess to you instead.

“i’m sorry, it was all kind of sudden, i know. a-and i understand if you're off put by it or if you’re just not interested but-” he stopped his rambling as he noticed the wide grin slowly forming on your face, a bright and genuine smile that made his heart skip a beat and his face feel ten times hotter than it did a moment ago.

“‘samu, i’d love to get to know you better, maybe we could go on a date? when you’re free of course!”

“a date? a date! yes, okay— i’ll get back to you on when i’m free, could i- uh, get your number?”

and with that you secured a possible date with the boy who had been nothing more than your uncle’s apprentice. you made your way home with a satisfied smile on your face and a heart pumping loudly with the adrenaline that still courses through you. nothing could ruin your mood in that moment.

—

two weeks of radio silence from the man who confessed, two weeks of false hope and tears in your room, left to comfort and berate yourself all alone. you felt so stupid, to be crying over some guy who just happened to feed you the best onigiri and ramen you’d ever eaten and had made you feel so special, you just couldn’t convince yourself that he wasn’t worth your time or tears.

you avoided your uncle’s shop for a few weeks in hopes of avoiding samu in the process, however, after two more weeks of that, your luck had run out. your mother left you with the task of delivering the aprons she’d fixed up for the cozy little ramen store.

begrudgingly, you picked up the stack of folded aprons, holding them under your arm as you huffed and puffed all through your journey to the infamous shop.

from the outside, the place brought a great sense of comfort, a paper lantern to the right of the door that emitted a soft glow and warmth if you got close enough. the tiles to the roofing were a midnight grey and the two windows on the front of the shop had the curtains drawn halfway, still allowing you to see the orange glow of the interior lights. the smell of the freshly made ramen had you salivating, the strong smell of sesame oil or the sizzling of the meat being grilled had you reaching for the handle before you could second guess your decision.

“uncle! i brought your aprons—” the man on the other side of the door was, unfortunately, not your uncle. instead, samu stood over the grill with one hand on his hip, the other using a wooden paddle to push around the meat in front of him. samu glanced at the door before looking back down at the food.

“he isn’t here today, sprained his wrist this morning and asked me to watch over the store for the night.”

you blinked, once, twice before deflating. “oh… i’ll just leave the aprons in the back then…” awkwardly, you coughed before shuffling past him and the bar into the back room where the security and staff room was.

with a sigh you dropped the aprons on the cluttered table, not paying any mind to what it fell on or knocked over. what a dick you thought as you ruminate over the short interaction you just had with the main cause of all your dilemmas in the past two weeks. he barely even glanced at you!

you huffed, pouting as you pushed the door open, ready to just ignore his existence and scurry home as quickly as possible. but of course, the universe liked using you as its favourite punching bag, and so instead of sneaking your way out of the store that once brought you great comfort, you run straight into the sturdy and broad chest of the one and only osamu miya.

he stared down at you quietly, a furrow in his brows and his lips pursed. he stared deeply into your eyes with a mix of concern and frustration, he took a deep breath before he finally broke the staring battle.

“if you weren’t interested, you could’ve told me that day, you didn’t need to give me a fake number.” osamu’s voice was quiet, the disappointment and sadness seeping through his words.

you gaped up at him, the audacity of this man! he was the one who stood you up, and yet you’re being blamed?

“i messaged you everyday, miya. don’t act like i was the one who wasn’t interested, when you were the one who ignored me.”

“what? what are you talking about, you never messaged me!” he fished his phone out, opening up the messaging app and forcefully pushed his phone into your hands, the message thread between the two of you being left empty save for the few messages he had sent.

“…wait what?” you mumbled to yourself, pulling your own phone out to show him your own messages.

the two of you stared down at the screens in confusion, you opened the contact information for both of you, staring down at the numbers.

“this is your number right, osamu?” you held your phone up at him, while you looked down at his phone to confirm your number.

…confirm that it was in fact not the right number.

“osamu… why is my number wrong?” you look up at the man incredulously, as he reciprocated the look. “i could ask you the same thing.” he grumbled.

you both stood in silence for a few seconds before he let out a relieved laugh. hand wiping down his face as he walked backwards towards the cooking area. you followed quietly, mind reeling at the thought that this was most likely just a huge misunderstanding.

“i guess maybe in the excitement we both just mistyped the numbers? thank god, you almost broke my heart yn!”

your scoff was mixed with a laugh as you sat on the stool by the bar. “speak for yourself, i was crying for a good week, almost two.” you sheepishly rubbed your cheeks in hopes that your embarrassment would disappear.

the two of you talked as he worked throughout the night, ending it off with him walking you home and giving his actual number, double checking that it was right by calling him before he left. when you walked through the door of your house, you kicked off your shoes in the entrance in excitement, hopping up the short platform and sprinting to your room.

you dropped onto your bed with a squeal, feeling all the emotions of love and envy exploding within you like fireworks. you could feel your younger self applauding you for not messing things up and cheering you on as you worked towards accomplishing her dreams.

with a sigh you glanced outside the window, staring at the bright star in the night sky. “sorry for not believing in you, thanks for listening to my wishes…” you smiled softly before reaching for your phone, pulling open samu’s contact.

‘so, about that date. what about a trip to the aquarium?’

#🌀. dizzy cries #osamu x reader #miya osamu x y/n #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya x reader #osamu drabble #osamu fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #hq x reader

[gowonders]

i’ll bite ♥ c.bg

notes: this is a part two of my other work, back for more!! read it hereeee!! anyways, i hope this satisfies yalls expectations for part 2 TT

also!! please tell me if this makes sense because i totally wrote this over multiple days and probably forgot a detail

minors dni with this one!!!

warnings : (not as mean this time but still kindaaa? barely mean) fem reader, (kinda sorta toxic…..) dom bg, lsf yunjin is your friend :3, a lot of texting gyu, thigh fucking(is there a word for this because…), unprotected (wrap it before u tap it omfg!!!), mentions of baby trapping but beomgyu doesn’t actually cum inside lmao, lmk if i missed anyyyyy!

choi beomgyu. the name now meant the totally cute and desperate guy you just blew off. you groan to yourself as you lay in your bed, kicking your legs a little before you sigh, a ping snapping you out of your little fit.

it was yunjin, what’s going on with her….?

yunjin: you’re gonna hate me!!!!! i’m reallllllyyyyyy sorry yn please forgive me i’ll buy you whatever you wantttt i’m sorryyyy againnn 💕

what did she do. she’s never this apologetic? you just sigh again as you leave her on read and throw your phone back on your bed, about to just stare at the ceiling as you just think about how you could just—

another notification, from an unknown number? what is going on?

?: heyyyyy is this yn

me: yeah? who’s this

?: beomgyu, yunjin gave me your number!

huh yunjin you asshole. when i catch you. when i catch you.

you sigh again, wanting to not give into responding anymore, but to be fair, you knew you’d fold eventually. you were literally just thinking about how pretty he was. so might as well bite.

me: oh cool i guess? whats up

beomgyu: look i know you know i like you, and i know i’m gonna make you mine eventually, so come overrrrr omfg. this little tough act is not cute. at least let me fuck some sense into you or something.

me: are you fucking with me.

beomgyu: i’m trying to babe

the text had your jaw slack. no way he was this forward. is he actually serious? you have rejected him four times now, and now he wants you in his sheets?? to ‘fuck some sense into you’ ???

is he crazy???

maybeeee , but you definitely are. maybe if this happens he’ll quit annoying you. but, like we’ve established, you and him both know he’ll have you next time. maybe fifth time is the charm!

me: fine whatever

beomgyu: i knew you had a thing for me, i’ll send you my address hold up

well.. he sent it. he’s definitely serious. it was the way he sent it with a little “💓” that left your stomach in a knot. oh god. are you really folding for him? yes. you’re getting dolled up, but not enough to give him the ego boost of you showing up with a full glam.. and you’re definitely wearing the skirt he complimented a few days ago.. god. what are you doinggg… you think as you drive to his house, mind going a mile a minute as you pull into the driveway, slowly walking up to the front door.

this could be the worst or best thing you’ve done all week. you’ll bite, though.

you raise a timid fist to knock weakly at the door, legs slightly trembling— why? you’re not nervous, not really eager either.. maybe a little. as beomgyu opens the door— why is he so pretty. he looks even better with more homey clothes, a crème colored t-shirt paired that has a black print, paired with some sweats. as he waves you in, you take in his house.. not as bad as you were expecting, it was pretty neat for a guy who has a very messy personality.

“so, still doing what i wanted? you cool with that?” he asks dryly, standing a somewhat far distance from you. and you just swallow in response, eyes wide in shock. no way this is actually happening. “ynie. answer me” he’s still speaking in a dry tone, and all you can do is nod with a sheepish smile. it’s almost like his words have some crazy effect on you, and maybe it’s because of the whole shock value, but you may or may not be falling for him.

“okay, finally.” he snickers as he wraps his fingers around your wrist, bringing you to his room, and whatever plans you had to reject him are gone.. for now at least. you really couldn’t turn down the way he pinned your wrists to his bed lightly, and the way he looked down at you, like he really loved you?? even after all the times you rejected him and called him some not-so-nice names, and you weren’t really nice to his friends either. so why was he so adamant on dating you?

he didn’t give you much time to think before he moved down to your ear, knowing he has that stupid (still insanely cute) smirk on his face, whispering how much he’s been wanting to do this, and that he’s glad you finally stopped being such a bitch.

and to that, you just scoff, but he cuts you off by moving down to your neck, leaving a small mark before pulling away with a chuckle. “you’re soooo easy yn. i knew you liked me.” you literally cannot talk. like he took your words or something, so you just roll your eyes.. which he rolls his eyes back at you, with his charming smile, pulling his hands off you as he stands over you. “you really okay with this?” he asks, tilting his head as his eyes just dart all over your body as he stands over you. “yeah,” you reply with the same dry tone hes speaking in, and that’s all he needs before he chuckles again, “skilled” fingers hooking under your skirt, sliding it down. “wore this for me, huh?” he teases, pulling the skirt off and letting it drop to the floor. “maybe. i don’t know.” you say, looking up at the ceiling, you can’t look at him. you’re literally about to fuck the guy you’ve rejected four times.

he just smirks at your response, fingers tracing over the waistband of your panties as he guides you to stand up, his hands on your waist, before you hear the clinking of his belt, your face is feeling warmer and warmer by the second, and this all is feeling more and more real too. and it’s not until beomgyus leg is nudging your thighs together to when it really starts to feel real. feeling his tip press slightly against your ruined panties, his full length sliding into the tight space of your thighs, a small groan leaving his lips at the feeling, his cock slightly brushing at your clit against the flimsy fabric with every thrust, small whines leaving your lips before one of his hands come up to your lips, muffling your whines. “you’d be even prettier if you stayed quiet, only letting you make sounds under one condition— you let me take you out.” he says, not stopping his relentless thrusts into your thighs, his breath slightly shaking along with yours, the friction on both of you driving you crazy.

he tilts his head at you, a straight face on as his dark eyes study you, his palm moving from your mouth to your cheek, waiting for your response. he really does wanna hear your sounds, they boost his ego so much, so he could brag to his friends about “she wanted me soooo bad. had her whining for me.”… but you just whine out loud after a particularly hard thrust, the way his length brushes against you just satisfies something.. unlike the way beomgyus need to take you out gets satisfied. “be that way, babe. i’ll make you mine soon enough. i said i’d fuck some sense into you, clearly you haven’t stopped acting like a little bitch.” he says in between groans, his palm moving back to your mouth as he covers up your pretty sounds again.

soon enough, beomgyus hips start to stutter, and his groans turn slightly high pitched as you’re clenching your thighs at him, not making his job any easier. “f-fuck, yn—“ famous last words before he’s cumming all over your thighs, staccato whines against his hand leaving your mouth as he left you on the edge, almost finishing, but beomgyu not letting you.. :(

beomgyu sits you back on his bed, not caring to wipe off his mess before he looks at you, a small hint of a smile growing on his lips. “you wanna cum, pretty girl?” you’re torn between just staying silent and practically begging him to let you finish… on one hand you’d fuel his ego, another thing to let him brag to his friends for, and on one hand, you’d keep up this little game that beomgyu seems to hate yet love so much. ..so you find a decent in-between. a shrug. which definitely gets him a little more upset… “yes or no, yn.” he says again, dark eyes burning into yours. “yeah…” you whisper, looking down at your lap that’s been ruined with beomgyus cum. “mhm. that’s what i like to hear..” his says, chuckling as he pushes your back onto the bed, pulling your panties down and letting them drop to your ankles as your legs dangle off his bed, beomgyu moving between your thighs, his tip moving against your tip, as he laughs at how wet you are. “all this for me? oh, i really thought you didn’t like me back, babe.” he says before inserting you in one swift motion, not giving you much time to adjust before he starts moving again, fingers gripping your waist so hard that you think it might bruise.. he’s pounding into you so hard already, gen though it’s only been a few minutes.. :(

“look so pretty under me, fuck..” beomgyu says as he leans his head back, kind of a shame. you can’t see his face, not like you want to admire him or anything, but his face is pretty when he’s above you, hips snapping against you roughly and quickly, swallowing hard as he only chases his own release (maybe yours too…). and you’re fairing no better, thighs trembling around his waist as your fingers grip the quilt under you, breathy whimpers spilling from your lips, which beomgyu doesn’t even bother to make you shut up this time, he really just wants to hear the pretty sounds he’s making.

beomgyu continues his work on you, his words varying of “you’re so perfect” and “i love this” in between his own groans, your sounds spurring him on more. i mean.. if he couldn’t date you (he totally could after this) he could at least have this?? and he loved it, you looked so pretty under him, squirming and whining all for his cock, it really boosted his ego.. (much like everything else you’ve done…)

“ynieee, let me make you mine foreverr, pleaseee?” beomgyu asks, hips starting to stutter against you, leaning his head back slightly. was he serious..? asking to cum inside when you clearly don’t like him back? “it would be a good way to make sure you don’t end up dating another guy, babe..” he mutters, chuckling a little before he plants a kiss on your cheek, studying your expression. he wasn’t actually going to do it.. but he likes seeing your reaction? which is just wide eyes staring into his. “nuh uh” you say, a quick laugh leaving his lips, he just stays silent as you both reach your release, a stupid smirk plastered on his face like he was planning something.

“are you close, yn?” he asks, swallowing hard as your gummy walks flutter around him, lips parted as your whines come out. “yeah—“ you start, hoping that he’ll actually let you finish this time.. “really? okay, pretty girl. don’t hold back.” he says with a smile, starting to come undone himself as you begin to reach your climax, and the sight of you just triggers his own release letting you ride yours out, then him pulling out and cumming all over your stomach. thank god.

“let’s get you cleaned up, hm, yn??” he asks, sitting next to you on his bed, a smirk on his face at your flushed cheeks and marked neck, so easy, all his~ you nod, words really too incoherent to mean anything.. “okay babe, hold on..” he says before he leaves you in his room with your own thoughts.

seriously, what just happened?? you fuck the guy you swore up and down was clingy and weird?? you probably just fulfilled his dream, especially with the way he looks at you. this is absolutely crazy.

you’re thoughts are cut off by beomgyu coming back with a small towel, wiping his seed off your tummy before he starts to speak quietly, in a comforting tone. “soooo.. i’m sorry about this. this is probably the worst time to ask but you know how much i lik-“ he starts, a small smile on his lips as he looks up at you. you knew what he was gonna ask. “goddddd, yes, gyu!! i will date you!!!” you say, beomgyus actions pausing as he looks back up at you with a smirk. “that’s good, because i was about to have to apologize even more for those hickeys, but thanks, babe~”

he is so unserious.

#gowonder: writes #gowonder: smut #txt #txt x reader #txt smut #txt hard hours #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu smut #beomgyu hard hours #txt hard thoughts #beomgyu hard thoughts

[elmouwus]

♡ lowe’s tub for two • katsuki bakugo ♡

katsuki bakugo x f!reader

summary — bakugo has always had a fantasy of bending you over in the middle of an aisle in a store, now he can finally cross it off his bucket list.

warnings — nsfw. established relationship, married couple, smut, exhibitionism (public sex), unprotected sex (p in v : wrap it up folks), shower sex (technically), light fingering, quickie, dirty talk, cream pie, slight d/s dynamic, dom!katsuki/sub!reader, cream pie.

1276 words xx

MINORS DNI, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

“What about this one,” you pointed at a shower display and looked up at your husband who was already looking in your direction, just not at your face.

The two of you had just gotten married a few weeks ago and were working on designing your new home together, the last thing to work on were the bathrooms, so that’s how you found yourself in this Lowe’s aisle looking at shower displays. Unfortunately, it seemed like you were the only one interested in the actual displays.

“Katsuki,” you snapped, causing Katsuki to look up at you, his vermilion eyes meeting your own, “my ass is not what we’re supposed to be looking at today.”

“That might not have been your plan but it was definitely mine,” he smirked as he looked back down at your ass, sliding his hand onto it, rubbing a circle on it.

“Katsuki Bakugo, do you have no public decency at all?” You asked slapping his arm and taking a step away from him, “we’re in public, how would you like to be the next headline on the news. I can see it now ‘Number Two Pro Hero: Dynamight & Number 15 Pro Hero : H/N Getting Down & Dirty In L-“

“Okay, Jesus, Woman I get it, alright? No touching my own wife in public,” he over exaggerated.

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes, “now answer my question,” you looked back at the shower display. It took less than a few seconds for you to feel his hand on your ass again.

“Kat-“

“Y/N hush, nobody is around, this place is a ghost town,” he licked his lips as he squeezed your ass hard, causing a soft moan to leave your mouth. You bit your own lip as you felt heat pool in your panties, “I wish you’d just let me fuck you in this aisle, it’s all I can think about when we’re out,” he whispered right into your ear as he caressed your ass.

You shivered at the feeling of his breath on your ear. You looked both ways down the aisle, he wasn’t wrong, this place was a ghost town. You didn’t even remember seeing anyone else when you guys came through.

You smirked pushing Katsuki off you and turning around to look at him, your eyes met once again. His eyes were coated in lust and mischievousness.

You put your hand on his chest and gave him a quick peck, “since you can’t seem to focus on the task at hand, why don’t we kill two birds with one stone?”

He cocked an eyebrow, “what do you have in mind, Brat?”

“Let’s see if we,” you paused to stretch up to his ear to whisper, “fit in this shower.”

You went back to your flat feet and stared at him innocently as you backed up towards the shower display. For the first time in all of the time you knew Katsuki Bakugo, this was the first time you seemed to have caught him by surprise. His jaw was slightly dropped and he looked like he was just offered the opportunity of a lifetime.

“What about the press,” he smirked as he walked towards you.

You turned around as you opened the display shower door and slipped in, “it’s like you said, it’s a ghost town in here and we have the power of my quirk by our side. So do you wanna cross this off your bucket list or not?”

He knew he couldn’t pass this up, he ‘begged’ for an exhibitionism experience almost every time you were out. He followed you into the shower, closing the door behind him, “how long can you hold your invisibility for now,” he asked as you both pretended to feel around the shower as if testing it out.

As much as he wanted this experience and the fact that this place was empty, cameras were still a thing and he definitely didn’t want a sex tape going around just after getting married.

“About 5 minutes without a break with someone else..”

“Guess this is gonna have to be a quickie,” he winked as you touched his shoulder and you both disappeared. You saw one another but your reflections were gone, which meant no one else could see you either.

Now knowing you’re invisible, you slammed into each other hard. Your lips swirled together as you tongue wrestled with one another.

“You’re such a naughty whore,” Katsuki said as he put his hands under your short sundress, pulling your underwear down, “wearing this short ass dress knowing you were gonna get me riled up, huh?”

His thick calloused finger slid up and down your slit, feeling that your whole slit was covered in your juices, you sucked on his tongue as you unbuckled his pants and let them drop.

Knowing you had limited time, he slid one of his hands down to the back of your thighs, “jump.”

You did as you were told and he slammed you against the back wall of the shower, before taking ahold of his cock and rubbing it with his wet hand, you didn’t remember him spitting on it but your were on a hormone high and wanted to ride it out.

Without sparing another second he slammed his thick cock into you, and started heavily thrusting. You let out loud moans and whimpers as his wet hand found your clit, rubbing it with one of his fingertips.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he sucked on your neck. You felt his heavy balls continuously hit your ass cheeks as he thrusted in and out of you, “fucking whore, getting off to me fucking you in Lowe’s.”

You were married to an actual sex god. Your moans got louder as his tip hit your g spot over and over again. Each thrust sent a wave of pleasure up your body, not to mention the his fingertip circling your clit.

You both knew your time was running out, which is why Katsuki was focusing on you so hard, “come on baby, I know you wanna cum for me.”

“I do,” your scream-moans echoed down the empty aisle.

“Then do it,” he said as he picked up the speed. You arched your back as you felt your orgasm hit, it rolled up and down your body, the feeling of your pussy contracting around him caused him to (what felt like) be sucked dry.

You felt his dick twitch in you as he pulled out, his cum dripping out a little. He let you slowly drop as he picked up your panties putting them in his pants pocket as he lifted them.

“Hello, is anyone down here? I heard a scream,” an associate asked, walking towards the aisle. He turned down the aisle to see Pro Hero Dynamite and you looking at a shower display.

“Oh yes, it was me, sorry,” you said, your face was flushed, “I was just so excited to pick out the last part of our new home. How much is delivery for this model,” you asked the associate innocently.

Katsuki smirked as he watched his cum slide down your legs while you spoke to the worker.

#bakugou x y/n #katsuki <3 #katsuki x you #katsukibakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki smut #katsuki bakugo my hero academia #katsuki bakugo mha #mha smut #bakugo smut #bakugo x y/n

[eternalsams]

The Piano Lesson ⇴ B.Bradshaw

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x single mom!reader

warnings: none. just pure fluff. No mention of Y/n.

summary: Rooster is so good with your kid, you might fall head over heels sooner than expected.

words count: 1 525 words.

notes: English isn't my first language, please take that into consideration

masterlist

You met Rooster two weeks ago when you had your weekly free evening. Your parents would take Aaron once a week to spend two days at their house and let you have an evening alone to relax. Not that you didn't like him, you absolutely loved the little brat but raising a child by yourself was exhausting. And that night you decided to go out with a friend and then you met him. You knew from the first word he said to you he was gonna be trouble. His upper lip twitching as he told you some cheesy pick-up line to make you laugh. And he did make you laugh.

Your friend eventually abandoned you for a tall brunette and left you alone with this handsome stranger that seemed way too friendly for your own good. You talked with him, you laughed, drank and danced with him until he asked for your number. You then paused and he noticed your hesitation. He took a step back to give you a bit of space and told you you didn't have to if you didn't want to. You quickly stopped him and told him about your son. A smile formed on his face and he chuckled, telling you he loved kids and that wasn't a problem for him. You were surprised a guy like Rooster didn't run away at the mention of a kid but you sure wouldn't complain. You then gave him your number and here you were, wrapping Aaron in his coat before joining Rooster.

That would not be the first time the two boys would meet. The nights when your parents could look after Aaron, you would spent the evening with Rooster walking on the beach or at a nice restaurant. And when they couldn't, you'd spend the afternoon at the park sat on a bench while watching your son at the playground. Aaron had been quite shy the first time he met Rooster but got super excited once he discovered his job was to fly jets. Days went by and the aviator asked you out tonight because he was working all day.

You first told him you couldn't meet him tonight because your parents were busy and you couldn't find a babysitter last minute but he told you he'd like to meet the boy and that he knew a place where you both would be comfortable. When he sent you the address of a bar, you almost canceled the date and blamed yourself for how blind you've been about the man. As if he felt your discomfort, Rooster's name popped up on your screen as he called you. "Hey." He greeted and you could hear his smile. "Hi, look I'm not sure that's a good idea I bring Aaron to a bar. He's only 4 and I really don't think it'll be safe for him." You paced in your living room while watching your boy play with his toys. "I know it doesn't sound great but I can assure you, there's no place where Aaron would be safer. All my friends will be there and the owner of the place is adorable, I'd even ask her to arrange a room if Aaron gets tired."

"I don't know, Bradley..." You sighed as you sat down on your couch. "I'd really like for you to meet the Squad. Please think about it, if you really don't want to come to the Hard Deck, I'll come over and we'll watch a movie." He said and you could hear men talking and lockers slamming, indicating he was still on base. "You don't even know where I live, Rooster." You smiled and you could hear him chuckle. "Then it'll be a nice opportunity for you to make me discover that sweet little house you described to me the other day." His voice grew more distant as he put down the phone and you sighed. "I'll think about it and let you know what we're doing, okay?" You heard him shuffling and close his locker because he answered you. "Perfect. See you tonight, Sweetheart." You felt your cheeks warm up and said goodbye before hanging up and leaning back against the couch as you closed your eyes.

"We're seeing Rooster today?" Aaron's voice called to you. You opened your eyes and went to sit down on the floor next to him to play with him. "Yeah, baby. We're seeing Rooster today. Do you want to meet his pilot friends too?" You watched your son's eyes widen in excitement.

After sending a quick text to Bradley to tell him you would meet him at the bar, you leave your house with anxiety running in your veins. You park your car in the sandy parking lot and help your son getting out of his seat. You take his hand and a smile creeps on your face when you see Rooster at the door. He waves at you and trots to you before taking Aaron in his arms and spinning him in the air, earning giggles from the boy. "If I didn't know you better, I'd think you'd rather spend the evening with Aaron than with me." You cross your arms on your chest with a faux frown. Bradley's eyes land on you and a soft smile stretches his lips before he approaches you and pecks your cheek to greet you. "Don't worry, Sweetheart. You'll always be my favorite." He whispers in your ear not to upset the little boy in his arms. "Now, come on. I want you to meet the Squad." He grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers before leading you to the bar. "Your pilot friends?" Aaron asks him as he steals Rooster's sunglasses to put them on his nose. "That's right, buddy. They're the best pilots in the world, but I'm better than them." He slightly pokes the boy's nose, making him giggle. "You're the bestest!" Aaron exclaims, earning a laugh from Rooster. "Yeah, I'm the bestest."

Just like Bradley promised, you've never felt safer in your life than tonight surrounded by all these naval aviators. They're all very welcoming and nice to you and Aaron, you couldn't have dreamed of any better evening. Luckily for you, the bar wasn't crowded tonight so you can leave Aaron play around without worrying about him every second. He was passing from an aviator's lap to another and played with every single one of them, but you knew his favorite would still be Rooster at the end of the day. You're talking with Bob when you notice Aaron isn't with you anymore. Panic slaps you in the face as you stand up and look around to find your son, calling his name. "He's with Rooster at the piano." The blonde one, Hangman you think, tells you, pointing at something behind you. You turn around and catch a sight you would not forget anytime soon. Bradley is sat in front of the piano with Aaron on his lap and the two of them are playing with the keys.

You sigh in relief and thank Hangman before heading towards the two boys that held your heart in their hands. "I just realized you could've taken my kid without me even noticing." You joke as you grab a chair and sit down next to them. "I'm sorry we scared you, the little guy wanted to see the piano." Bradley looks up at you as you smile. "It's okay, don't worry." You exchange soft smiles before his attention goes back to your son on his lap. "You want me to play something, buddy?" He asks Aaron and laughs when the boy nods frantically his head. "Okay, okay. What song do you like?" You watch the boy think for a minute as he fiddle with the white keys. "Mika!" Aaron looks up at Rooster with a grin on his face. "Mika? Okay, let's see." Bradley grabs his tiny hands to put them away and slips his fingers on the keys, looking for the right notes. Just as you think he's gonna start slow, he suddenly hits the first keys and you immediately recognize Grace Kelly.

Some people in the bar go quiet when they hear the music and you can see some of them gather around the piano. You feel blood rushing to your neck and warming up your face from the attention you receive but that doesn't stop Bradley. He then starts singing and you find yourself laughing as he makes Aaron bounce on his thigh. The first verse ends and when Rooster tries to hit the high notes of the chorus, the little boy on his lap bursts out laughing at how out-of-tune Bradley sounds. You can hear Rooster laugh a little between two lines and you can almost feel your heart grow bigger. You can't turn your gaze from the man in front of you, being so good with your son. You're a bit scared of what will happen between the two of you but you know you'll do anything to keep him in your and Aaron's life just to see your little boy smile and hear him laugh all day long.

#rooster #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fluff #top gun #top gun x reader #top gun maverick #top gun maverick x reader #top gun x you #top gun maverick x you #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw imagine #miles teller #Spotify