#And I just got the distinct feeling of ''everyone here is friends with each other except for me'' until I finally left

[p0tat0-g0ddess]

.

[strawbeerossi]

August || Chapter One

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Chapter Description: After a few days, you are back at the office whenever you have an emotional outburst over the JJ/Spencer situation. That leaves you to have a soul shattering boundary you need to put into place.

Content/Warnings: Drama in the workplace, mentions of questioning self worth, Penelope is the best friend ever (duh), horrible friends, Spencer is an ass (again, sorry lmao)

WC: 2K

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🏷️ @sadroses98 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @cultish-corner @s0urmarvel @measure-in-pain @yourfavoritefangirl @imjustheretoreads-blog @bookworm003 @finnysmusic @itsbritney123 @hizzielover @tlou-reid @babyspiderling @sunsebaessie @lilrios-world @reidsdaisies @heleaflm @emotionalecho @witchcraftandwit @azxulaa @small-and-violent @corpsebridenightamare

“I don’t think I can come in today. I’m sick." You spoke to Emily over the phone, even feigning a cough, as you were just hoping she’d fall for it. It was only a few days after the wedding, the whole water in the face incident creeping up to embarrass you. 

“You can’t avoid them forever, you know. Now come to the office. All you need to do is work and then go home. No need to talk to JJ or Spencer.” The unit chief spoke over the phone, her tone making you just feel the disapproving look on her face. 

“Fine..” You huffed a bit while pushing yourself up from your couch, already dressed for the day, anyway. “I’ll be there soon.” With a defeated sigh, you were hanging up the phone and pocketing the device. It would be a good day, right? All you had to do was get through it.

The drive to the office was horrible, feeling nauseous with each mile you drove. Most people would assume that after your small outburst at the wedding, you’d feel better. That was far from the case. The action just made you feel worse, knowing that Spencer nor JJ attempted to follow you out, to explain themselves. There was radio silence from both of them.

You probably should’ve expected that. 

As you arrived at the dreaded building and parked in the parking garage, it wasn’t long until you were on the elevator and on your way up to the floor you needed to get to. The more you stood there, the sicker you felt. Facing two people who you are forced to work with is going to do nothing but hurt you even further. You could quit, although then you’d be homeless. Putting in a transfer was a good option, even if you’d miss your other teammates. 

The sound of the elevator’s ding was tearing you from your thoughts, your steps deliberately smaller and slower just to take the last few seconds to prepare yourself. The minute your hand was on the glass doors of the bullpen, you knew there was no more hiding. 

Much to your surprise, the team was too busy at their desks to even look up. Thank god. You quietly approached your desk, your purse being placed underneath, as you took your seat. That got everyone’s attention.

“Hey.” Luke spoke first, a smile on his face. “You’re later than you usually are, was worried we’d have to come get you.” He joked, causing Tara to laugh softly from her desk.

“We would’ve been there too. It isn’t a good workday when you’re not here.”

At least you knew the rest of the team considered you as a friend. No way they’d ever do the things JJ and Spencer did to you. Just thinking of them had a frown on your face, your eyes on a file that you’d opened previously. 

“Well, I couldn’t leave my favorite people hanging, could I?” You finally broke the silence while offering a forced smile. The idea of a transfer just made you feel horrible now. You were stuck here, no escape in sight.

While you were working on a case file you’d neglected, it wasn’t long before the door was opening again. This time, there was laughter and lighthearted discussion from two very distinct voices that you recognized. God damn it.

It was best to keep your eyes down, even though you could feel every person’s eyes burning into your skin, just waiting for a reaction. You felt like a circus act, expected to perform based on one interaction you had a few days ago.

The three of you didn’t even have to look each other in the eyes in order to make the whole room thick with tension that the strongest knife couldn’t even cut. “Can we be adults? I really don’t wanna discuss what happened.” JJ spoke up, knowing the attention was on all three of you. 

The audacity of her wanting to move on was what made you finally turn around, your ears heating from the anger that was still deep inside you. “Are you kidding me? You wanna be an adult and not get questions?” You asked, unable to help the laugh that fell from your lips. “Here’s a question that I know you want to be asked; How’s Will doing? Judging by how you wasted his time for.. Eleven years? Better yet, how are Michael and Henry? I think that someone needs to look out for them.” Venom seeped deep into every syllable.

She had a family. A husband who loved her, children who adored her and needed her. Yet here she was, with a man who she hadn’t even shown any interest in. The whole situation made you sick to even think about.

“That’s not fair.” The blonde spoke up, visibly hurt by the topic being brought up. The absolute fucking nerve. 

“You’re right. It’s not fair. It’s not fair to Will and the boys at all. I guess you didn’t stop to think about them, did you?”

“Enough!” Emily snapped from the doorway of her office, arms crossed over her chest. “This is ridiculous. The last thing any of us need is you two bickering all the time. I suggest you solve this and let it go. I will not deal with the bullshit. I’m sorry.” 

The frustration of your unit chief made you take a breath, putting your hands up. “I can’t pretend like this is right and I will not endorse this fraud of a relationship. If you choose to fire me, that’s fine.” Your built up anger and hurt made you push in your chair, your purse on your arm as you were storming out of the bullpen.

Penelope was the one that caught you in the hallway as you were making your escape. “Wait!” She screamed, quickly following behind you and grabbing your arm before you could make it to the elevator. “Come hang out with me for a little bit. Don’t make any rash decisions.” 

You didn’t answer, instead just letting the tech analyst pull you behind her into the safety of the batcave. As soon as that heavy door was closed and you realized you were with one of your best friends, it was like the dam holding in all your tears had been burst open as a hot stream of tears was running down your cheeks.

“Oh, honey..” Penelope frowned softly as she was letting her arms wrap around your body, giving you a tight squeeze as she was rubbing your back. “It’s okay, you can sit in here as long as you want. We will just tell Emily that you need some Garcia time.” Everyone could benefit from such time. 

You were forced into one of the chairs while the bubbly blonde grabbed one of her many phones to inform Emily on what was going on. “Just so you know, I don’t think you’re wrong for feeling the way you do. I would be just as upset.” She assured, the woman now sitting down beside you while gently holding your hand. “I just think that you should maybe calm down a bit. We don’t need any physical fights.” 

“I can’t help it, Pen. Why? Why would JJ encourage me to tell Spencer how I feel about him and then jump on him at the next opportunity. She has a family.” You knew that she wouldn’t have a concrete answer for you but you had to admit, it was nice just ranting to her about it. “It also hurts knowing that Spencer just.. Stopped talking to me. It made me feel like I was a placeholder for her. Like he was just entertaining himself until what he truly wanted came around..” 

There was a soft silence between you both, though it was soon being broken whenever there was a knock on the door. “Come in!” Penelope called to the mystery guest, although the both of you were in a stunned silence whenever Spencer Reid was poking his head through the door. 

“I come in peace, just let me talk.” 

“Too little, too late. I don’t wanna hear it.” You spoke, standing your ground.

Instead of taking the hint, the man just entered the room before closing the door behind him. “I understand that you’re mad at me, pissed at me even. I can handle it. That being said, I don’t want trouble. I came to personally apologize. I was a shitty friend to you these past few days with not reaching out.” 

“You are a shitty friend, Spencer. You know, I thought you were supposed to be by my side. I don’t expect you to be madly in love with me but what kind of friend ignores someone for days? What kind of friend makes their friend feel unimportant and makes them question their self worth?” You asked, keeping your composure as you were going to put everything on the table.

“I think you’re a horrible friend. Not just to me but to Will. I think you’re a horrible person who broke up a family. JJ may have left Will but you didn’t even stop and try to make her consider her husband. You were selfish.”

It seemed like a sobering realization, judging by the way Spencer’s eyes widened and his body went stiff. He needed to hear that, even if he wasn’t planning on changing things. “I- Wow. I don’t know what to say,” He let out an awkward chuckle as his hand rubbed the back of his neck. 

“I’m sure you don’t. Doesn’t sound like a good situation whenever someone says it out loud, does it?” You asked, voice cracking toward the end of the sentence as you were clearing your throat. “I just want you to know that I have no interest in talking to you outside of work. I think it’s best for you just to stay away.” A necessary boundary that killed you inside, however it needed to be put into place. 

“You don’t mean that. I don’t wanna lose you permanently like that. Please, just take some time to consider.”

“You lost me the moment that you chose to devote every ounce of your time to someone who didn’t ever say that she wanted to be with you until the night you were in a hostage situation together.” 

“We weren’t even dating, listen to yourself. We had sex, what, a few times? I hardly find that as something serious, especially whenever you never even seemed like you objected to the thought of something casual.” 

“Spencer Reid!” Penelope’s horrified voice was what solidified that you weren’t crazy, that he was in the wrong just as much as you could be.

You wanted to scream, punch him, cry, and just lose it. This wasn’t the place for such outbursts but you knew that the minute you got out of everyone’s line of sight, you were going to shatter. 

Your nights spent with Spencer were something you cherished. The way he’d touch you, the way he’d hold you.. It just felt like there was something real there, the potential for a love story that you could read about in novels, see in movies, even hear in songs. Instead, you were casted off as a casual plaything. There was no care behind the long nights spent tangled in one another’s embrace. 

“You know,” There was a laugh erupting, your arms over your chest. “JJ is gonna get bored of you. If she can leave her husband, she will leave you too. I think the day she does that is the day that you will feel the same way that I do. And you know what? I hope it fucking hurts. I hope she keeps you up at night wondering why you weren’t good enough.” 

With that, you were done. Emily would most definitely be calling you in her office for a meeting in the morning, so you just grabbed your bag and walked to the elevator.

You said what you needed to say and you thought it would make you feel relieved, instead, there was more hurt than you could’ve possibly fathomed. 

How stupid you were to think that he actually saw something in you.

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Just imagining what it would be like for you and Eddie to both drunk and looking for each other. You don't realize you've been talking to one another the whole time.

Steve's party had been going on now practically all night. You and Eddie arrived hours ago, and now you can't seem to find each other. He went off with his friends, and so did you. You mingled and stayed close together when you first got there. But soon, you unintentionally drifted away the drunker you got.

Your face was tingling, and your head felt so heavy. Your whole body just wasn't corporating. Your limbs felt like they were in a constant battle to keep you standing or even walking straight. You kept calling out for Eddie.

You wanted to go home but knew he wasn't driving. Not in the condition he was probably in. He got drunk way before you did. You saw him throwing back shot after shot. Then chasing it down with his favorite beer, a pbr. The thought of the taste is already making you gag. He was a lightweight no matter how much he tried arguing against it.

You were stumbling and kept calling for your boyfriend. "Eddie!"

You even grabbed some random dude just because he had longish hair. He was definitely not your Eddie. You made a face of diagust and mumbled "ew" under your breath when the guy turned around.

The party kept getting louder the drunker you became. Everyone kinda started looking a like. Your vision was nothing but a blur. You even confused Nancy for Steve at one point. All because she had on his jacket.

The funny thing is that she never even bothered to correct you. If it wasn't for Robin speaking up to tell you, it was actually Nancy you were talking to. You would still be calling her Steve the rest of the time.

The killer hangover you're destined to have in the morning made you wish you never started drinking tonight. Too late. You knew you were screwed by the fifth shot of tequila. You and Eddie were going to be in misery.

You stumble again and flop down on the couch next to someone. A man who you really can't even focus on any distinctive features. He's just there slumped back with his legs spread open holding a candle that he assumed was his beer can.

You may be drunk off your ass but not drunk enough to mistake a candle for a can of beer. You look over, and he's nothing but a blurry figure to you. You blink and blink, trying to figure out who he is. Your drunkened mind comes up with nothing. He is another stranger to you. Little did you know that's actually your boyfriend. Who you have been on the hunt for all night long.

You heard him mumbling something in coherent over and over again.

"What you say?" You slurred.

He burped before repeating. "I said you have seen my girlfriend? She's cute. You can't miss her."

"Oh no havent seen her...m'lookin for my boyfriend actually. He's a nerd you can't miss'em" you giggled and sat up a little.

"Haven't seen any nerds around." Eddie quipped and went to take a drink from the candle.

He made a face when nothing went into his mouth. He still has yet to notice his actual beer is on the table.

"Been lookin' for her all night. I even cried at the beer keg." He sounded like he was about to cry again. "Guys out there forced me to come sit down to calm myself."

You put your hand on his shoulder to comfort him. He sounded so sad you couldn't help but feel bad for him. "She's around here somewhere."

"My boyfriend is missing too, startin' to think he's in a bush passed out." You rubbed your eyes and laid back against the couch.

Eddie snorts and goes in his pocket to grab his pack of cigarettes.

"All I know is when I find that little shit I can pass out in peace." He slurred and practically ripped open his pack of cigarettes to get one out.

"Yeah, me too-- When I find my boyfriend, I'm passing out too." You hiccuped, and your eyes slowly got heavier. The party started to die down a lot. People were falling asleep or walking home.

"When you'd get here?" Eddie turned to face you. "Been lookin' for you all night!"

[anouchard]

how did you get into the magnus archives? like how did you discover it since you were a fan before you got cast?

have your opinions on the podcast (like fav character, headcanons, etc) changed since getting cast?

anyways thanks if you do answer!!! you do such an amazing job as gwen in tmp and it’s truly a delight every time we get to hear from the fandoms favourite character!!!

Hiya!

So, during lockdown I started a TTRPG campaign with friends from uni, college, drama school ... you name it. Just a random bunch of people who liked the idea.

Around October/November 2020, one of them recommended Magnus. They're a massive horror nerd, and I was not into horror at that point (or so I thought, like a FOOL.), but I liked the sound of it and decided to give it a go. I listened to the first two episodes and only broke off because I was about to go and play D&D, and from that moment I was in love - with Magnus, with horror, with voice acting, the whole lot. I said "God, I don't care if I have to work awful jobs for 6.5 days a week - just let me spend the remaining half day working on a show like that" (touch wood, I haven't needed to keep that promise yet ...).

Anyway, time went on, friend and I were on the phone to each other sobbing over the finale (I had liveblogged every episode with them), and that was that. A week later I finished my MA, started working day jobs, and had already e-mailed RQ after being encouraged by my old improv teacher whose name I had heard in the credits a few times (thank you, Ian ❤️).

Three years on and here we are! Madness.

Anyway, I'm not sure how much my opinions have changed as I haven't re-listened since I was cast (except to the odd old favourite). I think it would feel strange to do so now - so much has happened and changed in my life both personally and professionally, and I also listened to TMA at such a distinct moment in time. I always loved the Archivist, Jonah, and the whole concept of the Eye, as well as the Leitner storyline in S2 (possibly my favourite series).

Right, that's turned into another essay. Thank you so much for such kind words - I fully expected everyone to loathe Gwen, so this has all been something of a surprise. Still, I suppose there's still time yet ... 😊

[satzumosupremacy]

Often

Male reader x Sana 6.9k words

Tags: Smut, Hardcore, Daddy kink, Other slight kinks

A/n: Inspired by “The Weeknd-Often”

You aren’t really a partygoer unless your friends invite you to a special event, but today you're going over without knowing how big the party is. You get to your friend's house early to help set up until the party starts. It’s a hot day; the air conditioner is keeping everyone cool, and it’s a sunny day—perfect weather for a party. 

Sana shows up an hour later; you aren’t close to her. She’s just a mutual friend who got introduced to you. Sana joins in on the offer to help and sets up the outside decorations. You’re inside, setting up tables and doing other heavy work. You always thought about dating Sana because she’s hot, but you don’t want to ruin some kind of friendship if it turns bitter afterward. The extent—you really don’t know her well, not knowing her favorite color or even her hobbies. She’s very private; it's most likely that you don’t even ask about her. 

Sana comes back in after finishing up the work with your other friends. She’s walking past you, sweating subtly from how hot it is outside with the sun glaring. You take a quick glance at her, and she smiles. 

“Hey.” Sana greeted you

“Hey, Sana.”

She walks past you and heads to the living room to help out. Sana is pretty interested in you—not in a romantic way, just wanting to know you more as a person. She glances at you helping out with the chairs, seeing how masculine and manly you are. Jessica—someone who’s currently dating your friend and knows you well—sit by Sana. 

“You interested in him?” Jessica teased Sana.

"I really don’t know him well, even though we’ve seen each other multiple times." 

"He doesn’t mind if you have a conversation with him; he doesn’t bite, Sana." 

Sana giggles; you hear her distinct giggle across the room without knowing what their conversation is. “I’ll talk to him when we all finish up before the party starts.”

Jessica nods and relaxes on the couch with Sana, seeing everyone work before the party starts. You finish up with chairs, going back to the countertop to inflate the balloons in the bag. Jessica taps on Sana’s shoulder, telling her that it’s her chance to know you more. Sana walks up to you and helps you inflate the balloons. 

“When did you get here?” She starts to inflate a balloon after.

“An hour before you did.”

"I want to get close to you,." Sana said straightforwardly; it made you assume she's trying to hit on you.

“Feel free to talk, Sana.” You look at her; she’s beautiful enough to make you want her in some way. You look back down to the balloons.

“What are your hobbies?” Sana questioned.

“I like to paint, draw, workout, and other stuff. What about you, Sana?”

"I like collecting perfume, dancing, and singing, just to name a few."  

“Oh, that’s nice; I can smell a hint of your perfume." It made her blush to be complimented by you first today.  

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

You talk to Sana for several minutes, not knowing your friends are taking quick glances at you and Sana talking to each other. You finish up with her, and she heads back to the living room while you go outside to hang out with your friends. The party starts half an hour later, with ten other people showing up. You feel comfortable knowing everyone there and having the best time at the party. Sana wasn't; she was relatively new to the circle of friends. 

You see Sana at the table, listening to conversations and looking around. You walk over to her and sit down. This time, you begin the conversation first, getting to know her more as you both talk for several minutes. 

Sana hands you a shot glass, pouring whiskey to drink a shot with you. “I hope we can get closer tonight.” She smiled.

“I don’t mind either, Sana.”

You get to know her, taking shots after shots slowly, getting buzzed, and laughing with her. Your friend can see you in the distance, surprised that you’re talking to someone new. You start to check her out secretly, seeing her in leggings and getting a glimpse of the size of her tits. Her thighs flatten out on the chair, which makes you get turned on by the alcohol you’re consuming with her. Sana still keeps her smile, even if her cheeks become red from the alcohol. 

"Sana, I think we should stop drinking for now; your face is red." 

“I can still go for more, don’t worry.” Sana pours another glass with you and drinks the shot.

The sun starts to set by the minute while you are having a conversation with Sana and the people around. Sana starts to look at you as you talk to your other friends. She’s having dirty thoughts; alcohol is consuming her mind just by imagining what you can do to her in bed.

Hours later, some of the friends went home, and you focus on talking with Sana. She is well enough to keep the conversation going, but she is stuttering more as the alcohol begins to take over. You grab the alcohol and shot glass away from her, worried that she will get drunk. Jessica sees both of you in the distance, quickly walking and telling Sana to stop drinking. 

Sana leans on the table with her elbows, staring right at you. It gets you flustered to see how alcohol can affect her. You decide to stare back. The background noise becomes quieter as you focus on her eyes, trying to read her. Both of your hearts start to race from the intense intimacy you two are having just by staring. 

Sana smirks, laughing right after. “Can I come over to your house?”

"Yea, sure." You didn’t give it some thought; you're already buzzed, letting whatever happens happen.

Sana starts to caress your thighs secretly under the table; it turns you on with the seductive nature she has. The alcohol is taking over both of you for an intimate night. You hold onto her hand that is on your thighs, feeling how soft and small her hands are compared to you. 

“Your hands are soft, Sana.”

“Just imagine how soft my body is when I’m at your house.” Sana whispered.

You gulp, surprised by her bold and confident words. Sana rubs your thighs gently; blood rushes down just from her touching you. She boldly feels the bulge in your pants, smirking and giving you an evil grin—yet so erotic. You place your hands on her soft thighs, caressing her secretly to get her turned on too.

"Why don’t we head upstairs to the bathroom? I’ll give you something that you won’t deny." She doesn’t stop smirking, not caring about who’s inside the house with the loud music in the background. 

“You go first, I’ll come after.”

"Make sure you cum." Sana said to you, not knowing that she wants a different kind of come. She walks up the stairs first, and you walk after to not get suspected about the little fun Sana wants with you. She waits in the bathroom, and you get in, locking the door after. She gets on her knees on the fluffy mat, pulling your pants down along with your boxers. Your cock springs out, getting hard right in front of her with a shadow casting on her small face. 

Sana gives your cock a sniff, smirking again as she gets a chance to taste and gulps. "I’ll give you something better when I’m in your bed tonight." She kisses your tip and tilts to kiss the rest of your length. You get a view of her cleavage and her black bra that’s covering her tits; you imagine how soft and firm they feel, yet you'd rather squeeze her tits to make her moan in your bed. 

Sana doesn’t ask; she wraps her mouth around your cock, slowly bobbing her head with her hands holding onto your thigh. You gather her hair, and she starts to moan quietly. Breathe heavily, being buzzed and getting a sense of pleasure from her sucking you off is all you can express. She looks up to you while sucking, meeting each other's eyes and staring until one of you can’t hold back anymore. Background noises of music from downstairs and the wet sounds of her sucking you off are all you hear. You tilt your head back, closing your eyes towards the ceiling, grunting and gasping quietly before someone hears you and Sana. She pulls back from your cock, taking off her shirt quickly to give you a view of her tits with the bra still on.

“Sana, your tits look amazing.”

“It’s better when my bra is off.”

“You really know how to make me turned on, Sana. I love it.”

She chuckles and goes back to suck you off quietly for several minutes. Your cock twitches inside her mouth, and she quickly pulls back with saliva and pre-cum hanging from her mouth. Sana wipes the evidence from her face. "I think I'd rather make you cum later; this is only the start." 

You sighed, annoyed that she didn’t make you cum in her mouth, but on a good note, she’s going to be naked all night with you. It’s going her way of making you want her without a doubt. Soon after, you both hear someone coming up the stairs. Sana panics with you and stays quiet as you turn off the lights in a pitch-black bathroom. Sana goes in for a kiss unexpectedly, calming you both down. Someone knocks on the door and tries to open the locked door. They head back downstairs, and you assume someone is getting the keys. 

"Sana, let’s get out."

You hold her hands, quickly turning on the lights to unlock the door, then turn off the lights and lock the door again as you both go into your friend's bedroom to hide. Her heart beats faster, scared of getting caught as she leans her chest on your shoulders. Someone comes up the stairs, unlocking the bathroom door while you and Sana go downstairs to the back yard of the house. You both laugh, almost getting caught, like you wouldn’t be able to make an excuse if your friends knew what happened. 

You and Sana catch your breath and head back to the living room. "I thought you both left without telling us." Your friend said. 

“We were outside in the back talking.”

"Oh okay, you can leave anytime; it’s getting late. I can clean up with Jessica tomorrow." 

"Alright, I guess I’ll go now; I’m getting tired." You secretly tapped Sana, and you headed out first. Sana heads out the door minutes later and gets in your car. You both laugh in the car; the chemistry grew within the hours of the party. You drive home with Sana looking out the window. 

“Are you sober enough now, Sana?”

"Yes, I am." She grabs one of your hands on the steering wheel and places it on her tits. "It’s actually noticeable when you check me out." She laughed. You feel guilty, getting caught staring at her body. 

“I-I couldn’t help it, Sana.”

"I was checking you out also; don’t be sorry."

“Are you always like this, Sana?”

“No, but you’re so interesting, I couldn’t help it.”

“Interesting to how I look without clothes?” You questioned Sana.

"Not just that, but your personality also." 

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Don’t you wonder how I look without clothes too?” Sana teased you.

“It would be a lie to say I don’t, Sana.”

She squeezes your hand on her tits, and you feel how soft and firm it is. Sana laughs cutely and lets you touch her tits through the whole car ride. You get home and walk her to your door, opening and closing it quickly. 

“Paint my face white, Daddy.” She smirks.

“It’s hot when you call me that, Sana.”

You walk her to your bed, take off your clothes quickly on the floor with Sana, and then lay on the bed while she crawls on top. 

"Lay back and enjoy." She laughs. You lay your head on the pillow. Sana wraps her mouth around your cock, bobbing slowly, taking her time, and slowly trying to edge you to make you cum all over her face. You breathe harder, and she smiles at you. Sana brings her mouth to your tip, licking it vigorously as your cock twitches. 

She laughs seductively, “I love it when your cock is like this.”

"Just make me cum already, Sana." She holds your hand, and you sit up again. Her hair became messy; you gather her hair, and she sucks you off again. You grab her tits, squeezing them playfully and harder to make a print on her soft tits. 

“You don’t get to cum until I make you cum, daddy.” She teased you.

“Do you like being choked, Sana?”

"I love it; choke me, Daddy." You choke her gently, then press her neck more as she gives you a seductive smirk while your other hand holds onto her tits. "I want you to cum so much on this pretty face, daddy." She whispered quietly. 

You lean closer to her ear. "I will cum as much as you want, Sana. We have all night." You let go of her neck, and she starts to suck you off quicker, making you fall back onto the pillow to see her do what she wants. Her soft, meaty body turns you on; being able to see her fully naked in your bed was like a dream come true after knowing her. You start to grunt harder as your cock pulsates subtly each time she bobs her head. 

“Sana, I’m going to cum.”

She releases her mouth and jerks you off. Her mouth opens with her tongue out, and you erupt on her face. She places your cock on her tongue, getting a good taste of you while you cum. Sana wraps her mouth around your cock again, sucking off the extra cum. You look at her, face painted with thick warm cum, and she used her fingers to lick all the mess.

She swallows every bit of your cum, tasting it like a sweet dessert that she worked hard for. “Fuck, I love how you taste.”

"Lay down for me, Sana." She lays down, and you kiss her inner thighs, then eat her pussy. Her back arches, and you pin her legs onto the side of your face. She moans seductively while you pin her legs. You please her slowly, and her hands grip the pillow. "Sana, you taste so good." 

"I know I do; eat me as much as you want."

You kiss her folds and go back to eating her. She moans loudly, squealing from time to time. You love how her voice is so erotic. She holds your hands on her tits as you focus on pleasing her. You kiss her clit and around her folds. 

“Fuck, you’re so good.”

“Enjoy it as much as you want, Sana.”

She laughs, loving how you treat her. "Please make me cum hard." You lick her clit, inserting your fingers inside her tight walls and fingering her faster. She moans and catches her breath. You feel her body tensing up; you slow down, wanting to edge her. "Fucking let me cum." Sana pleaded desperately.

"Be patient; you did this to me also, Sana." She squeals from you fingering her. She yells out a loud moan. You lick your fingers to get a taste of her and eat her again. She’s at her limit, but you don’t want her to cum. 

“I love your body, Sana.”

“Please," Sana begs you to make her cum.

“You want Daddy to make you cum?

“Yes, Daddy, please do it.” Sana pleaded.

You finger her in a hook shape. She becomes quiet and starts to cum. You stare right at her face, helplessly cumming to you fingering her tight pussy. Sana's eyes become shut, opening her mouth, then clenches her teeth. Sana squirms around with her legs jerking, and screams loudly from her orgasm. You keep fingering her, not letting her rest while she keeps moaning. She grabs your hand that you’re fingering her with and pulls you out. 

Sana's body was still jerking subtly and she tilts her head back again, gasping for air as you get closer to her. You kiss her body, letting her catch her breath. "Fuck," she catches her breath, "that almost made me pass out." 

“It felt great, didn’t it?” You said to Sana.

"It really did." She breathes harder with her chest pumping. You lay down beside her and caress her body. Sana gives you a cute smile, enjoying a night with you until sunrise.

"Can we go again? I want to feel you inside of me." Sana curiously asked you for another round. You see her eyes, wanting more and more. Sana already looks tired, but she stares at your cock, slowly caressing it, and smirks at you. Sana gets closer, trying to turn you again. She giggles, "like what you see?" Her tits are right in front of your face. 

"Shall we, Sana?" She gets up and crawls on top. Sana jerks you off slowly with a seductive smile. 

"Just let me feel your tight pussy, Sana." She smirks and gets closer to you while she inserts your cock inside her. You lift your legs slightly to give her a better position. She starts to ride you deeper, and her moans get louder. You grab her chin with your thumb on her lip, guiding her down closer with her seductive smile. She kisses and sucks on your thumb while she rides you. Her breathing becomes heavy. 

You slap her ass, making it have a red print. Sana’s elbow leans on the bedsheets with her tits mashed against your chest. She moans right in your ear, making you get turned on by her voice. She gets up again, grinds your cock with her hands on your chest, and you stare at each other with lust. She grinds for minutes until she tilts her head back, her tits in your view as you grab and play with them. 

The room fills with lust; your bodies collide as she rides and grinds on you. Her moans became erotic the longer she fucks you in that position, not knowing how long it'd been. You decide to rub her clit and she squeals. Her hands grip your shoulders with the sensation she’s feeling.

“Turn around, let me see that ass, Sana.”

She turns around, and this time you want to help her ride you, guiding her with your hands while holding her ass. She inserts your cock in, and you firmly grab her ass, putting light pressure to help her ride you. Sana laughs, flustered that you’re helping her ride you. She gets on all fours, and lock her legs in with yours. Sana rides you faster, forgetting how exhausted she is, as she wants you to have a good time with her. You glide your hands over her hips and caress her body with an arms reach. You groan harder; she’s moaning and breathing harder. Both of you are getting exhausted. She doesn’t stop riding you from behind, knowing you love seeing the view of her body. 

“Sana, you’re going to make me cum.”

“Cum inside me.”

“Are you on a pill?” You grunted right after.

“Does it matter? I want it inside, Daddy.”

She rides you faster as you get to your limit with Sana. You grunt and catch your breath. Her head is facing down, clenching her teeth with how deeply you’re penetrating. You cum inside her while she’s still riding. Sana yells, surprised by you flooding her walls. She giggles after, feeling how you came inside her for the first time. Sana doesn’t stop riding and rubs her clit while her head leans on the bedsheets. Sana pauses and her body jerks; she rides you again quickly, with you knowing she’s going to cum. Sana moans loudly from her orgasm as she rides on your cock. 

You play with her ass, giving her a light spank. You sit up to hug her from behind and shower her with kisses. 

“You seem to need a rest, Sana.”

"We can rest for a bit." She’s still on your cock, and you thrust her lightly. 

“Ah!” She moaned. “If you still have some energy, fuck me all you want.”

"Get off and lay on your back." Sana gets off, cum slowly drips out, and you insert your cock in her again. You grab her legs, holding them as she spreads herself while you thrust her. You thrust her harder and faster, planning to give her another round to fill her walls. The room becomes loud with your body colliding with hers as Sana moans louder. She clenches her teeth, rolling her eyes back and tilting her head back. Your mind becomes filled with lust just by looking at her and her amazing body.  

"Fuck..me..like this." She told you, breathing harder as you fuck her. You start to sweat as it drips down your back. Sana tilts her head to the side and grips the bedsheets. She takes a deep breath, then moans loudly while you penetrate her. Sana’s body tenses up, surprising yourself that she’s cumming again. You keep your pace with your cum lubricating her tight walls. She squeals louder, cumming on your cock with how aggressively you’re fucking her. You let go of her legs, quickly rubbing her clit to make her cum harder. 

Sana moans louder, her legs jerking, and walls get tighter as you thrust her. Sana’s legs retract into each other, and her body jerks and squirms around, cumming hard as she starts moaning erotically. You caress her thighs, feeling how soft and meaty they are. You start to sweat more while thrusting inside her tight walls, getting exhausted, and you hold onto her knees. Penetrating and giving her what she wants, you start to reach your limit minutes later. 

“Sana, I’m going to cum again.”

She doesn’t answer, exhausted at this point, and you cum inside her walls again. Her moans become softer, and squeals with your cum inside her. You fall down towards her, and she locks you in with a hug. “Thanks for giving me such a wonderful time.”

You look at her, staring right at each other. She needs a rest after all that. Sana stares at you, smiling in a cute way. "Let’s rest for a while, Sana. We both need it." She nods, and as you lay beside her, she inches closer, chest to chest sideways, and makes out slowly with you until you both fall asleep. 

Both of you slept for a couple of hours. Sana wakes up, slowly getting on top of you while you sleep, and jerks you off. You were deep asleep until you felt her presence on top of you and wake up to see her wanting another round. 

"I want it; I’m sorry." Sana pouted 

You check the time; it’s three in the morning. She smiles in a guilty way. "Go ahead, Sana." 

“You do this often with other women?”

“I do this often.”

“How often?” She continues to jerk you off slowly.

“Often with you tonight, Sana.”

She gives you a loud laugh that was cute at the same time. “That’s cute, but lets have fun. Sit back and relax.”

Sana gets down, lays her tits right on your thighs, and sucks you off with her hair dangling to the side. You look at her amazing body, admiring that you can fuck her with both of your desires fueling for the night. She catches you looking and giggles. 

“Want to be inside, Daddy?”

“Yes, Sana.”

Sana gets on her knees as she inserts your cock in her. She grinds on you slowly and picks up the pace. You grab her hands, guiding her closer, and feel her tits. You squeeze them until her moans get erotic. Reddish pink marks from your hands leave a print on her tits. She laughs, surprised that you love playing with her tits that much. You grab her neck, lightly choking her while she rides you. She always gives that seductive, mischievous smile that turns you on so much, and Sana comes down closer. 

"You aren’t going to sleep after this." She whispered in your ear. You choke her harder, making her mouth open. She holds onto your hand, not letting you off her neck. "Harder, waste your energy for me so I can fuck you as much as I want until the sun rises." 

“We really aren’t getting any sleep if we keep going, Sana.”

“Does it matter? We both can’t get enough either way.”

You gulp, knowing she’s not letting you off this bed anytime soon. Sana starts riding you faster and moans more. She lets go of your arm on her neck, and you grab her ass for a spank. She laughs seductively, riding you faster as she picks up the pace. You start grunting quietly and catch your breath. Even if Sana is on your bed, it feels like she has the most control tonight. Sana’s more dangerous than you thought, not knowing how hungry she can be from her innocent smiles back at the party. 

“Sana.” You gasp for air. You’re going to cum any second to how she’s riding you.

“Shh, cum as much as you want, Daddy.”

You start to breathe more heavily after fighting her devilish lust. Your body tensed up, gasping for air, and she decides to slow down. She leans in for a passionate kiss—proud that you’re holding on—but it wasn’t enough, and you start cumming inside her, erupting hard as you grunt. She doesn’t stop riding, even if she feels your cum flooding inside her. You grab her ass, firmly squeezing it hard as she moans, and you grab onto her back. 

"Ah!" She gets surprised as you hug her for a taste of her tits. She places her arm on your shoulders. "So aggressive, I love it." 

You bite her nipples softly, and she yells erotically. She pushes you down again, quickly riding you faster. Sana’s breathing heavier after pushing you down, sweating as she keeps riding. You wait it out, letting her get exhausted, then take over. She doesn’t stop riding you, even when she's exhausted. Sana’s filled with desires, wanting you for her pleasure. She starts to squeal, cumming on your cock with the amount of pleasure you give her. Sana pauses with your cock deep in her, and she catches her breath. Her head tilts down, breathing hard with her tits mashing onto each other from her arms resting on your chest. 

You grab onto her hands and send her down closer to your face. She moans loudly; her hands cover her mouth in the quiet night. You pin her down and Sana kisses your neck, moaning and squealing with you penetrating her harder. You grab her nape, locking her more tightly to your body.

"Don’t stop; keep going, Daddy." Her breaths were heavy. Sana’s body tense up again, breaking her kiss on your neck as she leans on your shoulder. 

“Cum on this cock again. I know you want to.”

Both your breaths became heavy, sweat dripping all over your bodies, and she starts to cum again. She grips the pillow beside you. Sana lays still, surrendering herself for a while as you keep thrusting her. You became exhausted, yet you want to cum in her again. Sana digs under to giving you a hug as you penetrate her walls until you cum. Thrusting her for several minutes, you get to your limit and cum inside her again. 

Your hands slide off from her back, slamming onto the bedsheets from exhaustion. You both breathe quietly in the bedroom. She doesn’t say anything but caresses your hair. You kiss Sana’s shoulder. She slowly closes her eyes, knocking out from fucking each other. You quickly fall asleep with your cock still in her. 

You slept for another hour, waking up just in time to see the dawn. Sana was somehow beside you, sleeping peacefully as you get up quietly to open the window blinds. You look outside as you sit on the bed, seeing a fantastic view out in the distance. Sana wakes up without you knowing—distracted from the view of sunlight across the morning sky. She stares at you, waiting for you to look back. You keep staring, spacing out with the magnificent view. Sana becomes impatient and grabs your hands, slowly rubbing them with her thumb. You look back at her in silence. 

"Can we go again?" Sana said. Her eyes beg for another round. You hesitate, thinking how much she has already drained you through the night. Just looking at her naked, you couldn't say no to such a woman who makes you yearn for more. "Fuck me, Daddy." Her soothing tone is seductive enough to make you hungry. 

"I’ll go again." You get on top of her and kiss her soft lips to her tits. She giggles while holding onto your face. You love how she laughs and giggles; it turns you on. 

"Put it in; you’re hard already." You slowly insert your cock in as both your bodies get bathed in the sunrise. She kisses you more calmly, holding your face to hers, and you thrust deep into her. She moans quietly, staring right into your eyes. "Let’s not fuck too hard; we need some rest." 

“Backing out of your own desires now?” You grabbed her chin. Her eyes gleamed with lust.

“I know you can’t handle me, but I’ll be gentle for you.”

“Honestly, you’re a bit too much for me, Sana." You chuckled. 

“At least you kept up to my pace.” She smiles brightly.

“Only did that for your pleasure, I’m going to be sore today.”

She kisses your neck, and the room becomes silent again. Her moans become softer but still erotic, and you breathe onto her neck while kissing her. Sana wraps her legs around your thighs, helping you thrust as both of you are exhausted but want more. She grips your back, digging into your skin while you penetrate her slowly. 

“Slow sex feels so amazing after you abused my pussy like it’s yours, Daddy.”

“Lay back and relax, Sana.” You said her own phrase back to her. She laughs in a cute way.

Her moans became gentle and soft, squealing quietly, and she closed her eyes. You look at her, from craving you desperately to a calm woman after. She opens her eyes, and you both stare at each other. Sana decides to play a little game of who’s going to break eye contact first. She laughs, knowing you caught on to her little game. 

You play her game, staring right at her. You thrust her with moderate speed, and she tries to seduce you with her face. 

“Am I not pretty?” Sana tried to corner you.

“You’re beautiful, Sana.”

“I hate to admit, but I find you sexually attractive.”

“I do too, Sana. You’re so hot even without clothes on.”

“Can we-” You cut her off.

"Shh, enough talking." You placed a finger on her lips, and she uses her mouth to suck your finger. Your cock twitches, and she closes her eyes, surrendering her own game. Sana reaches down to her clit and rubs it. You know she wants to cum along with you. She releases her mouth from your fingers and smiles at you brightly. 

“Cum with me, Daddy."

You thrust her faster, with Sana rubbing her clit. Her moans get louder again as the sun rises. You grunt as you reach your limit. Sana arches her back, cumming first after you. Her walls tighten up, hugging your cock inside while you cum inside. You lay on top of her with your cock still pulsating. Both of you exchange breaths, and you lay beside her after pulling out. She scoops the cum dripping out and tastes it. 

"Let’s go to sleep, Sana; we barely had any rest."   

Late in the afternoon, Sana wakes up and quietly heads to the bathroom. You wake up several minutes later, and Sana comes out of the bathroom. You go to the bathroom with your towel to take a quick shower. You get out to see her lying in bed, waiting for you. 

“You have any plans for the day?” Sana said.

"Not sure, but get up; I’ll cook a small brunch for us." 

Sana follows you and sits on the couch, turning on the TV while you’re making breakfast, and then place the food on the table. You eat with her, finishing the plate, and she volunteers to wash the dishes. You look at Sana from the back, urging to fuck her again with her leggings on that show her toned thighs and ass, nipples poking out of her t-shirt that you glanced at while you ate with her. You get up, walk towards her, and hold onto her hips with your cock brushing against her ass. 

“How can a man not yearn for such a body and beauty like yours, Sana?” You whispered in her ear. She tilts to the side and looks at you from behind, seeing her cute smile.

“Fuck, that's so hot of you.”

“Let’s fuck right here, Sana, on the kitchen countertops.”

"Fuck me slowly as I finish up." She giggles, and Sana gets turned on by you wanting her again. You undress her shorts along with the panties. Sana arches her back slightly while she finishes up the dishes. You pull your pants down enough to insert your cock in her slowly. She tiptoes, feeling the sensation of your cock penetrating her tight walls again. She multitasks, getting fucked and washing the dishes consecutively. Her head drops down, unable to wash the dishes while she moans. You hold onto her hips. Sana yells out a seductive groan. You squeeze her tits underneath her shirt. She leans on the counter of the sink with her elbows. 

"Fuck, let me finish washing the dishes. I can’t handle this." She laughs. You pull out, kneeling down to kiss her ass and her thighs while she spreads herself for you. Sana finishes up quickly, and you stand up. Grabbing her sides, you lift her up on the countertop at the corner, and she faces you. She seductively beckons you to come closer with her quiet giggles. You get close to her with her thighs touching your hips, and you give her a kiss with her head leaning on the upper cabinets. 

Sana moans gently and grabs your cock, slowly stroking and squeezing it, then quickly inserts your cock inside her. You thrust her slowly and dig into the back of her hair to give her some extra comfort on the hard cabinet that she’s leaning on. 

“Feel free to cum, don’t fight the urge. This body is still yours to fuck, Daddy.” She assured you. “I know you can’t get enough of me.”

"I know you can’t get enough of me too, Sana; don’t lie." 

She laughs. “You're right.”

You grab her neck, choking her slightly with her hands holding onto your arm. She smiles, looking right at you while you thrust inside her faster. Sana squeezes your arm, loving how you penetrate her deeply. 

"Turn around for me, Sana." You pull out of her, and she bends over on the corner of the countertop. You insert your cock in her again and grab her hair, twisting it to lock on your hands. Her head tilts towards you with her back arched. You thrust her deeper with her moans breaking. She clenched her teeth with a smile. 

"Fuck, you’re so good." She said while catching her breath. 

“You love it when I handle you like this?”

"Yes, Daddy. Make me cum on your cock." She begs with her eyes closed. Sana gasped for air, moaning in between her breaths. Her moans became louder, and her elbows slip on the countertop. You let go of her hair, grabbing her arms and locking her soft hands with yours. Her cheeks plant on the countertop, looking at you fuck her body to your desires. Sana clenches her teeth with a faint smile. You thrust her harder, pressing her body into the hard countertop.

“Daddy!” She yells out in a higher pitch, desperately moaning and gasping erotically. She catches her breath with moans that can be heard throughout the house. Sana’s body motivated you to fuck her harder. It quickly takes a toll on your body without you knowing, thrusting her without a sense of time. Distracted from pleasing her, you feel your body slowing down. You fall close to her back, holding onto the countertop as you start to lose vision. 

You catch your breath quickly, pausing as she looks at you. "Are you okay?" She taps your thigh to get off. You slowly pull out and catch your breath. "Let’s go sit on the couch." She guides you to the couch and gets some water. Sana kneels down to kiss your cock. 

"That’s sad; you can’t keep up like I thought." She teases you. “Well, that was actually amazing of you either way. Can I ride you after you cum? I want your cum in my mouth first.”

“I can feel my body getting sore, so do whatever you want for the time.”

She gives you an okay with her hands, sucking you off after she listened. You gather her hair—insanely beautiful with her soft lips on your cock. Moments after she’s sucking you, Sana is already getting you to your limit. You lean back on the couch, and she holds onto your hand, rubbing your hands softly with her thumb. Her saliva drips from her chin down to the floor. 

You don’t fight the urge; you're already tired from fucking her hard. You erupt inside her mouth, and she chokes, swallowing for her own taste. You breathe hard with her hands holding you. Sana sucks you off slower, letting you rest as you finish cumming. She gives you a cheerful smile and slowly releases her mouth from your cock. She cleans up the mess on her chin, quickly grabbing a towel to wipe the floor. You sat on the couch and closed your eyes. 

“I don’t want to get you too exhausted. Come sleep on the bed.” Sana said.

“Sorry, I can’t make you cum also, Sana.”

“I thought you knew I did back in the kitchen.” You try to remember, assuming you probably were too distracted by craving her as you fuck her on the countertop.

“Oh, maybe I got distracted.”

"I know you would ask for another night, daddy." She giggled, and you nod in disbelief at her, thinking she's going too far. "Let’s go to sleep on the bed and wake up in the evening. You seem so out of it." She said. 

Sana drags you up and takes you to the bed. You lay beside her and stare at each other. "We now know each other more." She laughs, and you see her pretty innocent smile. 

“We both enjoyed it since last night, didn’t we?” She nods happily to your question.

“Is it too much if you can sleep on my chest?” You thought about her words carefully, longer than she expected. She gets impatient, pulling you in, and mashes your face on her soft tits. She plays with your hair as you both quickly fall asleep after several minutes while you kissed her tits passionately.

You wake up first—somehow your cheeks are still on her tits. She hugs you in that position the whole time. You don’t know what to do, slowly trying to get out of her hug, and accidentally wakes her up. 

“Can we do this often?” Sana said to you in a tired tone.

"Sana, I don’t know; I’m sorry." 

“Can we?” She pleaded desperately.

“Sana, it’s going to get complicated.”

“How about monthly?” You stare at her silently. You don’t know what to say at this point. “I guess I’ll leave then.”

“Sana, wait.” You grabbed her hands.

“Give me your phone.” You give her your phone. “You have my number now. Call me anytime when you're lonely.”

“Sana, I’m still not sure about this.” You hesitantly said to her.

"Let’s make tonight your final answer if you keep contemplating." She gets on her knees, crawling on the bed for a final answer after tonight. "We can actually take it slow this time and get to know each other more without our friends knowing what we have between us, deal?" Sana smiles, smirking right after, and passionately makes out with you. She suddenly breaks it off seconds later and looks at you. "See? Your eyes tell me differently."

You stare at her silently from being right; speechless to say, you don’t want to admit anything.

She laughs wickedly with an evil grin, “do you really think I’m on a pill? I didn’t even give you a clear answer anyways.” Sana gives you an innocent smile after that, you couldn’t tell if she’s playing around.

“You-”

[kquil]

hello! I'm here to request a 🍪 with poly marauders, where they ask the reader if they would like to be their partener and they're nervous and stuff

-thank you, have a lovely day !!

A/N : this is the finally cookie requested from my 1k milestone event, thank you so much for the request, darling and im so sorry for taking such a long time to deliver it, i really hope you enjoy the read, my lovely!

They had never been so nervous or anxious before. You were the one and only person to accept their unconventional relationship over everyone else when they first revealed that they were in a poly relationship with each other. What makes the situation even more anxiety-inducing is the fact that you were one of their closest friends, long before they even got into a relationship with one another, therefore, if they really followed through with this, they’d be risking their long-time friendship with you as well. Looking into each other’s eyes, it’s clear that they share the same anxieties for the decision they wanted to ultimately make. 

Having understood and supported their relationship more than most, you were their common confidant and dearest friend… no… being around you didn’t feel like being around a friend, nor were you like any type of sibling to them. You didn’t fit into any comfortable category or label anymore. That line and distinction was blurred a long time ago, maybe even before they got together as a trio. 

You felt more than a friend when you helped Remus through his thoughts on a daily basis, speaking to him softly and laying out his thoughts with much more clarity than he could ever imagine. You’re always there to help him go through his problems no matter how minute they may be and the tall brunette is incredibly grateful — he never wants to take you for granted. You don’t feel like a friend when you know exactly what Remus needs after a long and hard day. And, especially not when you allow him to hold you tenderly from behind as you help cook the boys their dinner, especially when they all feel lazy and tuckered out from a long day’s work. Remus would often press his face into the slopes of your neck and shoulder, breathing in your familiar fragrance and would sigh in relief, your scent giving him comfort. His arms wanting to hold you longer than what was appropriate for ‘just friends’, oftentimes, you’d let him without any complaints of discomfort. 

“Are you feeling good, Rem?” you’d muse, your voice like sweet honey and warm milk to his ears, cosy and ever so comforting. 

“Mmmm…yeah,” he’d reply, appreciating the hand you would reach up to briefly comb through his hair and massage his scalp with.

You felt more than a friend when you knew exactly what to say to Sirius if he was ever acting up. He had a horrible habit of acting first and thinking later, however, you were the only one who seemed to calm him down enough to temper his fury and instinctual need to act first, giving him clarity with your words and gentle touch. He’d be on the ground, back against the wall and burying his face into the plush warmth of your stomach as you kneel between his legs. He’d hold you desperately, clinging onto the fabric of your clothes as you soothe him by petting his hair and saying everything he needed to hear in that moment. Somehow, you always knew what to say. You don’t feel like a friend when he’s spooning you from behind, seeking comfort and warmth as you read a book. Your book wouldn’t hold your attention for long, however, as you would eventually deem Sirius’ comfort and needs more important than your need to finish a book. So, like clockwork, you’d turn around in his arms and he could finally feel the reciprocated action of your arms winding around his figure and pulling him close. Naturally, he buries his smiling face into your chest and you’d soon begin humming a soft tune to fill the already comforting silence. 

“Don’t leave when I’m asleep…” Sirius whispers pleadingly, whining almost. 

“Never, Siri,” and that was all he needed to fall into a deep slumber, smiling and always finding the sweetest dreams that often featured you as well as a great amount of kisses. 

You felt more than a friend whenever you’d let James sit in the kitchen with you and ‘help’ you cook breakfast, lunch or dinner, whatever it may be. He’d watch you with such fond eyes, he was surprised that you never noticed his more than friendly appreciation of you. Every once in a while, you would turn to him with a spoonful of the dish in your hand and ask him to have a taste — it was his turn to contribute to the cooking. It made him feel important and involved and like he was sharing a special moment with you.

“How is it, James?”

“As perfect and delicious as always!” he replies happily, licking his lips and grinning even wider when he hears your melodious giggle follow straight after. 

“I couldn’t have done it without your immaculate taste in food,” you would humbly reply, cupping his cheek and staring into his eyes with what he wants to deem as love and affection from someone who’s more than a friend. That small moment of joy, however, is quickly broken as soon as you turn your attention away from him. James fights the urge to turn you back to him, lean forward and capture your lips in a heated kiss, a plea and desperate attempt at convincing you to love him, Sirius and Remus as official partners.

You don’t feel like a friend when you would go out of your way to be there for James whenever something was happening in his life, big or small — you were there for him when he was getting ready for his job interview, when he got the job, got his first promotion, when he wanted to eat lunch with someone because he felt lonelier than usual; you were there for everything and so much more. 

It only felt natural for them to take that final step with you but, just like how nerve wracking it was for them to confess to one another, it was the same apprehension that clogged up their throats and made it difficult to form the words. 

“What’s wrong, you guys?” your soft voice pulls them out of their concentrated apprehension. It was the usual Saturday lunch you spent at their flat except, this time, they cooked the meal for you — it was a pleasant surprise, especially when their cooking turned out better than it typically did. For a while, you were the only eating the food, ignorant to their spiralling thoughts. However, when you finally did notice, the concern was evident in your eyes, largely because James wasn’t hoovering up his food like he usually was, nor was Remus engaging in conversation with you about the book you were both reading together, nor was Sirius subconsciously expressing his deeply learned table etiquette and reprimanding James of his lack of manners like a mother hen. Today, they shared the same daunting expression and it was contagious, rubbing off on you like the plague. 

“We uhhh…” Remus begins, gulping with difficulty as he shares a look with the others, “we have something to ask you…”

“What is it?” your question is filled with caution, a direct response to their strange unease around you, “You guys are acting very stra—” 

“We love you!” James blurts out which immediately diminishes your worries and draws an adorable giggle from you, one that they all melt over.

“I love you guys too,” with a smile, you happily continue your meal and completely miss their intentions. 

“No,” Remus says, “not like that…” his statement makes your brows raise in shock, you search their eyes for answers as your heart begins to race — both from fear and a hint of hope.  

“More than that type of love, dollface,” Sirius clarifies, hoping that it was enough for you to understand them. 

James reaches over and touches your hand, caressing your knuckles tenderly with his thumb, “we don’t just love you, we want to love you,” it was a little saying between you and James, one that made you fall in love with him and eventually Sirius and Remus too. 

With happy tears welling up in your eyes, you look into James’ hazel pools and finally finally see the abundance of love swimming in them, only for you, “like the verb?” you ask in a tear-filled, weak voice. 

James laughs and nods eagerly as Remus and Sirius smile fondly at you, the latter of the two reaching out to gently wipe your face of the tears spilling past your waterline, “like the verb, love,” James brings your knuckles to his lips and kisses them lovingly.

Your answering nod was all they needed to round the table and pull you into an embrace, their lips eager to meet yours in a passionate and loving embrace. 

1K MILESTONE EVENT : CLOSED | NAVI.

[mellowsaturns]

just between us

DBF!BUCKY X READER

summary: you and bucky have a little moment in your bathroom at your family’s brunch 

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, fluff, bathroom sex, secret relationship, age gap (reader is in her 20s), unprotected p in v, fingering, teasing, praise kink, he’s a menace, they are just horny for each other lol

wc: 1.2k

a/n: that picture has been giving me the biggest brainrot and now y’all have to suffer with me <3 

--- 

The sun’s shining perfectly and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky—just the perfect weather for a fancy brunch that your parents had planned for weeks now.

Everyone’s laughing and having a good time. You’re on your third mimosa and it wasn’t even twelve o’clock yet. Life was good.

You’re chatting with your friend when suddenly, all her words become white noise to you.

Because you smell him before you even see him—that distinctive and expensive cologne that managed to imprint itself onto you as well. Freezing in your spot, you could feel the warmth he’s radiating behind you. And when he places his hand on the back of your chair, his timber voice sends shivers down your spine. “I hope I’m not too late,” he announces to everyone. You had to clench your thighs shut.

“Bucky!” your father shouts, half surprised and half excited that his best friend’s here. “Thought you couldn’t make it?”

“I managed to rearrange some things,” he says, and you could picture the smirk he had on his face right now.

Bucky subtly moves his hand, his palm now directly on your skin thanks to the backless dress you’re wearing. He gently brushes his thumb against your heated skin before making his way over to your father who had managed to find an extra seat for him. And when you finally see him, your breath hitches—he looks like he’s about to go on a damn runway, pure sex on legs. You stare at him in hopes of catching his attention but he doesn’t spare a single glance at you.

Asshole, you mutter to yourself.

-

“Say that again?” he grunts into your ear. Because said asshole now had you up against the wall, your dress rolled up to your waist while he’s knuckles deep inside you.

Halfway through, you got annoyed and left the table. Unknowingly to you, he also followed you into the house and when you entered your room and into the bathroom, he grabbed your face and kissed you hard, one thing leading to another.

“Say that again, sweetheart,” he taunts, sliding his fingers deeper into you.

You whimper, clutching onto his shoulders. “Said you were an asshole,” you grit out. “You didn’t even look at me.”

He hums. “Sweetheart, you in that dress is just sinful. I know ‘cause I was the one who bought it for you,” he says. “I wouldn’t have been able to control myself if I looked at you. I would’ve fucked you right there and then in front of everyone.”

He chuckles when you clench around his fingers. “You like that? You like the idea of me bending you over and taking you so everyone can see?” he teases into your ear, voice low and husky. “I wonder what they’ll say when they find out you’re fucking your father’s best friend.”

You whimper at his suggestion but with the way he’s holding you, so rough and so passionate, you couldn’t care less about what they’ll say about you and Bucky.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, kissing up your neck. You gasp when he bites down. “I can’t get enough of you.”

You’re close and he knows it too. He goes in for a bruising kiss and curves his fingers at just the right spot, one that only he’s able to hit and you shutter against him.

After he licks your arousal off his fingers, he gives you no time to recover as he spins you around and bends you over the counter, caging you in between his arms and the cold marble. He’s eager to feel you and it takes no time for him to slide in.

“Bucky!” you gasp.

“Fuck. I miss this,” he moans, as if he didn’t take you apart so good last week that you had trouble walking the next day. “It’s like you were made just for me.”

There’s an intense warmth building inside of you with the way he’s gripping your hip and pounding into you from behind. You’re clutching the counter to stabilize yourself from his rhythmic thrusts and trying really hard to suppress the obscene noises that are threatening to escape.

You hope no one’s in the house right now because you accidentally let out a needy cry.

He uses one of his hands to cover your mouth, his large palm helping you muffle all your guttural moans. “I can feel you, doll,” he rasps, “Does my pretty girl want to cum?”

You hum, nodding your head pathetically.

“Hmm? What was that?”

You're pleading but it gets lost.

“No?” he teases before slowing down.

Asshole.

He chuckles at your mewling and finally lets go of his hand. “Please. Bucky, please. Let me cum,” you whine.

He smirks at your desperate voice and lifts your head up then, making you look into the mirror.

“Look at you,” he muses, “taking me so well.” His fiery eyes meet your dazed ones in the reflection and you brace yourself as he picks up his pace again. Bringing you up against his chest, he kneads your tender flesh while his hot breaths hit your neck.

He holds you tighter when your legs start to shake and when you finally release, he follows seconds later, filling you up with him leaving you sticky and satisfied. “You did so well for me, baby,” he praises, holding you in his arms while your pounding heart settles from the aftermath of your orgasm.

He leaves first just to lower the suspicion and you take this time to make yourself presentable again. As always, your hair is a mess and you have mascara running down your face—nothing new thanks to Bucky.

When you join the table again, he’s already there laughing at some joke your parents said but you don’t miss the cheeky glance and wink he gives you.

Your friend looks at you for a moment, but continues the conversation the two of you left off at. If people wonder why you’re always disappearing, they don’t ask. It gives you a sort of thrill that maybe they know. That you're in something so illicit and that he’s yours as much as you are his.

You probe at the coffee cake in front of you, not hungry anymore because you’re full of him already.

Later, when everyone is helping to clean up, your phone buzzes with a notification.

Meet me in my car in 10.

You look up and Bucky’s looking at you from the other end of the backyard with a smirk on his lips.

You scoff. The sun was still out but then you remember he has very tinted windows installed in his black Mercedes and who were you to deny him when he’s looking like that?

In five, you text back.

When you look at him again, he’s biting his lip and looking at you with that look—the one he gives you during those moments in between heated kisses—like you’re the best thing that has ever happened to him.

[skyeslittlecorner]

Orphan from Hades, outcast from Gehenna

I've wanted to do this for a long time, and I finally got around to it. Here I collect all the details that this sweet lamb has in common with Hades. ...aaand some rambling about him and his Solomon thing, because why not.

Yes, I miss him very much. Yes, I did it just to look at his beautiful face. Get ready for a collection of screenshots.

We all know that Sitri is a little... ok, very delulu about Solomon. As strange as it may sound, this is the most superficial of problems. This is eye-catching. But underneath the irritation he causes there is much, much more, and it is not good for him.

In the first part we will go through the facts and his connection with Hades, the second part is my long rant. You will have marked what is where.

PS. Sitri lovers, don't worry. I belong to this nation myself, it's not a hate rant.

Jealousy and distrust

Do I even need to mention it? He's regulary call out for this. And this is the jealousy he feels especially towards the Solo MC. During the Halloween event, he was even called out that, paraphrasing, "at this rate, maybe you really should leave Gehenna and go back to Hades". Unfortunately, I don't have this one screenshot, so you'll have to take my word for it.

Not only MC is a person which makes him jealous, but also his king. Offtop, Satan knows this and really enjoys irritating him. Apart from Sitri, MC and Leviathan (so probably all others kings too), I don't remember Satan trying to annoy anyone so purposefully, but it may be me just not remembering.

Additionally, constant doubts. Sitri has always distrusted Leamas, and if it weren't for Satan, he would have killed him on the spot. The first thing he does when Marbas appears and threatens us is pulls out a gun and puts it to his head (he is justified here because the kings did the same). In the Christmas story, whenever he sees Gabriel, he immediately throws knives at him.

Who else kills everyone who has even a 1% chance of threatening Hell?

Let alone the thing that they know and remember each other.

It doesn't mean that they knew each other very well or that they were friends. But, for example, Sitri and Bimet did not know each other. Since both Sitri and Leviathan remember each other even after some time, Sitri must have spent a lot of time in Hades. No wonder he took over their vibe.

Also, a little spoiler of ch5, just as Sitri only called us by our name when we drifted off into the land of sleep, Leviathan in his H-scene only softened when we were so unconscious that we could no longer remember it.

Weapon of choice

I have already addressed this topic here. There's no point in me dwelling on this too much. His weapon is straight from Hades. We mark this point off as obvious.

Mark & clothes

Here's a slightly more interesting thing, I admit that I noticed it only later. The tattoo on Sitri's neck. We see that it is a pentagram assigned to Satan and Gehenna, but I want to point a little curiosity.

At one point, the Sitri's symbol on his neck and Leviathan's symbol in his eye were the same. Also, very distinctive - Levi's symbol on someone's neck.

The second non-obvious thing is his clothes. Sitri is the only noble of Gehenna wearing all black. Nobles from Hades also wear black. Does this refer to this? Not necessarily, because we know that Satan's closest commandos wear dark uniforms the same as him. Sitri as a noble and Satan's right-hand devil may combine these two features.

Some headcanons and rambling

The part where I tried to be objective and draw facts ends here. Now let me happily chatter on how I interpret his behavior

bUT FIRST, I still have some unused screenshots, and how can I miss such an opportunity? PB why did you create something so beautiful?

My aesthetic sense is satisfied~

So. Let's go to my ramble. This sweet creature has huge abandonment issues. He is intelligent, and even Ppyong is confused and explains that Sitri is usually really smart, but with us he goes crazy. Besides, you can see that he behaves quite normally around others (the only exception, he can sometimes become detached around Satan).

As for our name, he knows it, and he is aware that we are not Solomon. The famous words at the end of his H-scene. So why does he call us Solomon? Because he is unable to come to terms with his departure? The easiest excuse is that he misses him and projects him onto us. That Solomon never left them and those years never existed. That Sitri doesn't care about us, that he only really wants Solomon.

But I like to think of a slightly different version.

To Hades belong the orphans, to Gehenna the outcasts. And Sitri belongs to both. We don't know what he went through, we don't know what's going through his mind, but we see his behavior towards others. He is calm and perfectly controls his emotions even during his H-scene. He is smart and morbidly suspicious, what we see a lot. Finally, he must have everything under control, to such an extent that in some matters even Satan does not try to fight him (the most striking example is that he is the only one who gives Satan blood).

When he saw us, of course, he felt the familiar spirit of Solomon. But what he really liked was us. His emotions were out of control and it scared him. So he dealt with it the only way he knew how. He can't afford to trust again and be let down again, so he forced his true emotions that he felt towards us into the "it's just love for Solomon" box. Because he has already experienced mourning for Solomon and he can cope with it somehow, maybe not well, but enough to function on a daily basis. If he was rejected again, he wouldn't be able to cope. And he can't afford it.

He is Satan's henchman, prince of Hell and The Guardian of Gehenna. He can't show weakness. He can't break down. So the defending remnants of his sanity did what they could to maintain the fragile status quo.

Does he know what he is doing is wrong? Of course. Does he realize that he is hurting us? Of course. But he is one of the highest generals in a country at war, he has to deal with all the nobles, he has to support the king, he has to be ready to fight at any moment. And his Hades mentality makes him willing to sacrifice his happiness (and last crumbs of sanity) and our liking for him to protect his king and country.

Emotions cannot be controlled. But he tries nevertheless. If he didn't feel such strong emotions towards us, he wouldn't try to deny them. If someone is traumatized, they do not always know how to properly cope with it, and his mechanism is not healthy, it harms himself and us. But what else is he supposed to do? We know the approach in Gehenna. Only strength counts. Besides, he is the "responsible one" who would listen to him and help him? We? The moment we deny him, his psyche will collapse like a house of cards.

Maybe I'm exaggerating, overinterpreting, or it's just a running joke. But after how well-developed the characters are so far, I don't want to believe that his brain just turns off with the snap of his fingers.

After all this, I only have one question.

Sitri. Baby. Who hurt you?

[suuuupernovaaa]

Requested by anon. Hobie Brown x f!Reader. 'Open Arms' by SZA, Travis Scott.

I know this is all bad, but please, put a leash on me. Who needs self-esteem anyway?

Rated M. 18+. Mostly fluff.

Samantha's elbow, unbelievably sharp and bony, grinds into my side. I let out a yelp, and yank myself away from my best friend. "What the fuck, Sam?"

She's grinning at me, and then her gaze slips away, following something over my shoulder. I follow her eyeline and see him - Hobie Brown, walking towards us across the grassy lawn of the park. His guitar is strapped over his back and his hands are in the pocket of his studded leather vest. He's walking towards us and as his gaze meets mine, the corners of his mouth turn up just a little bit - which is a beaming smile for Hobie.

We've only just started dating. It's been three... dates, if you can call them that. The second date was helping Hobie and his friends paint a mural. The third was dinner, which I burnt, on the floor of my apartment, because I'm waiting for my new kitchen table to be delivered. The first, Hobie told me on the third date, was the time we ran into each other at the grocery store and he asked me on what I thought was our first date, but then learned was apparently our second.

Though I've dated plenty before, there is something distinct about Hobie. When I first met him, I assumed he was the kind of guy who could not settle down, who could not commit, and who wouldn't be interested in sharing his feelings with anyone.

You could have nearly knocked me over with a feather when, as we sat on the floor eating burnt roast chicken over my coffee table, Hobie looked me right into my eyes and told me he was feeling nervous every time he saw me.

"Dunno," he'd told me, "I just think... that you're special, Y/N. This is somethin' special, and I don't want to mess it up."

I nearly choked on my dry chicken, and the tears that gathered in my eyes as I took a sip of water. The truth was, since the moment I'd been introduced to Hobie Brown, I'd known I was in trouble. Everything about him screamed for me. I was obsessed. I was trying to play it cool, but hearing him call me special, call the budding relationship between us special, nearly sent me into a fit.

"Jesus," Hobie said, hitting my back gently. "You alright?"

I wiped the tears from my eyes and set my water down. "Yes. Sorry. Shit. I really like you, Hobie."

We smiled at each other like two idiots who were bound to fall in love.

As he walks toward me in the park, I'm smiling like that again. I can feel Sam rolling her eyes next to me. "Oh, my god, are you going to fuck him in front of everyone here?"

I shrug, and elbow her back. "If he asks."

She shoves me. "I gotta run. See you tonight?"

"What's tonight?" Hobie asks as he reaches us, and Sam begins her departure.

"See you!" I holler. "Sam is going to help me put together my table and chairs. She's handy."

"I mean this in the most pro-feminist, anti-sexist way possible, but you've got a man now. I can put together your furniture," Hobie says with a teasing grin, and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. "Or, I can bring you a pizza after you work. Christen the new table."

I press a soft kiss to his cheek. "Perfect. Around 8? Shouldn't take us too long."

It's embarrassing, how I melt in this man's arms. When he mentions Christening the kitchen table, I don't think of eating food there. I think of myself, laid back, legs spread, Hobie between them...

But pizza with Hobie and my best friend is good, too. Jesus, I need to pull myself together, hold on to my dignity and self-respect as long as I can.

Hobie dips me backwards a little bit, and presses a firm kiss to my mouth, letting his lips linger on mine for a long time. My head is spinning when he finally sets me upright again. "Maybe once Sam leaves, we can Christen the table another way," he whispers, and a shiver runs up my spine.

I don't really need self-respect, do I?

[linkspooky]

What ending would you have liked for the League villains in BNHA?

Well, there's two answers to this question. What would be my ideal ending to the League of Villains requires major story structure changes. To the point where it almost becomes an entirely different story,v venturing into fanfiction territory.

Basically keeping the story as it is until My Villain Academia, there's no longer a clear and distinct line between Hero and Villain. Shigaraki is now the real deuteragonist of the story, and the story is split between Deku's journey and Shigaraki's.

The league are no longer just an insane fringe element that doesn't deserve to be listened to or have their wrongs redressed. Since they now have the MLA they have public support behind them, they like become actual rebels against hero society with even public support. Either the War Arc doesn't happen, or the villains win and society is effectively destroyed so that the heroes no longer have their tight grasp.

A bunch of kids die in the war, because they weren't relevant and it's a consequence for UA raising child soldiers. The remaining relevant kids are forced to cope with two realities, number one they were violent enforcers of a broken system, number two the villains are right in some ways. A moment of the kids going "Are we the bad guys?" However, they can't agree with destroying everything so they have to fight to rebuild. The kids have lost faith in the adults, break off from them entirely so the adults no longer hog all the screentime and try to attempt to solve the problem on their own. Also, Enji dies in the war arc because Hori didn't do anything satisfying with his character beyond that part, and Dabi is hit with feelings of: oh no killing my father didn't fix my problem.

Then you'd basically have to have the narrative find a compromise between Shigaraki's complete radicalism but lack of any motivation to rebuild, and Deku's desire to save others but lack of self-awareness about the evils of his society and how the system can't be fixed as it is. Like a war between the opposite forces of preservation and destruction and Deku and Shgiaraki having to eventually work together to build their world. Maybe Deku even manages to convince Shigaraki there is a future, and save him from statements like "I don't care what happens next." The League of Villains and the reduced Class 1A are like two parallel groups in the manga running in tandem, and also Deku's bonds with his friends are closer now and actually shown in story they become a tight knit group so both sides are trying to protect the people they love too.

Here was my realistic ending I was expecting when the war started. The kids fight their respective villainous foils and then manage to talk them down and solve things with words instead of violence. Then the villains and heroes team up in order to save Shigaraki from AFO, which is the first step of redemption of the league, and also the kids realizing that the league love each other. At the end of the fight Deku tells Shigaraki what he's always wanted to hear when he was Tenko, "You can be a hero, too." bookending the story with the words All Might told him. The villains either get rehabilitated because they helped take down AFO, or they run off to become vigilantes.

What we got was everyone being sent to hell instead and that sure is something.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Dr. Bronze

Hi guys!

This is a small one with Ona and Lucy :) It comes from several request, so I hope you will like it!

Please enjoy ♥

TW : None

She’s a doctor. It’s still funny for Lucy to say that, but she likes the idea, to be honest. She’s pretty honored and this distinction made her think back about the woman she was at that time. She was so far away to imagine where she would be more than ten years later.

Not here in the English Camp, looking at Tooney and Alessia giggling about something she doesn’t want to know. But here like having be able to live so many things with football. She has won the Women’s Euro in 2022 and almost won World Cup in 2023 with England. And she won almost everything with Barcelona those last past years too.

And she can say that she never has been so happy as she is right now. And not only because of football, even if she met the woman she loves deeply thanks to football and their mutual friends.

She sighs softly when she reads one more time Ona’s last message, saying how sorry she is for not being able to come to the ceremony in Leeds University. Lucy wasn’t expecting her to be able to come to be honest, Ona is with her national team somewhere in Spain, training for the Olympics.

She would have love to see her again though. She misses her girlfriend, like crazy. They had a long discussion in Cuba about Lucy’s future and their relationship when they learn that Barça hasn’t accepted Lucy’s wishes. They knew it would be difficult to be separate again, but it was only for several months until Lucy will finish her career and come back in Barcelona to Ona.

That’s their project. Lucy joked about opening a bar, but she really thinks she would love it now. She hasn’t talk about it to Ona, scared that the younger one will make fun of her.

“Lucy, get your ass here right now or you will be late for fuck’s sake!”

Lucy groans when she hears her brother screaming in their parents’ house. It’s the day where she was supposed to received her distinction and she really needs to leave right now. But she really wanted to hear Ona’s voice before leaving and her girlfriend doesn’t seem to want to answer for now.

Lucy’s frowning when she comes down the stairs and when she goes in her brother’s car. Their parents’ left before them with Sophie, Lucy’s little sister, but the footballer can’t help and try to call Ona again.

“What the hell is she doing?” Lucy groans in a low voice.

“Maybe she’s tired of you. Maybe she realizes how easier it’s to live without you” Jorge teases her sister.

The slap he received after that echoes inside the car.

“Oy!”

“Shut up your face, will you?”

He rolls his eyes playfully, but Lucy’s reaction makes him realizes that maybe it isn’t the right place to joke. They never really talk about their respective feelings and love life to each other. But Jorge likes Ona, and he likes his sister with the Spaniard.

“Sorry if it was a bad choice for jokes” he says after a moment of silence.

Lucy groans for any answer, busy to write to Ona. She frowns again seeing that her messages are being delivered but not read.

“She’s not answering at anything” Lucy mumbles.

“I’m sur she’s fine, Luce. Maybe she has some tactical class or something?”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

She’s not scared anymore like she was last year when Ona wasn’t answering her phone quickly. It happened from time to time for Vilda being the reason of Ona’s silence. Vilda isn’t here anymore, and things got a little better since, even if it’s not the best conditions. But it’s the evening and they usually are free.

Jorge looks at his sister, briefly leaving the road with his eyes.

“You are going to be alright; you know? Ona and you.”

“How can you know?” Lucy asks after a moment of hesitation.

“I just know. That girl is really in love with you, and I can say you are too. It’s different from your other relationship, I can say it. And everyone who knows you can say it, you are like two parts of the same orange. It’s like all the things who could separate you aren’t and make you both even stronger.”

Lucy stays silence several seconds, really touched by her brother’s words. She’s sure that Ona is the love of her life, but she’s not sure that she’s Ona’s one. She will probably never be, never taking the girl for granted.

“It’s going to be so hard to be away from her” Lucy points softly.

“I never said it will be easy. But you will survive this.”

Lucy smiles for real this time. She never thought that Jorge’s words would one day make her feel better about her love life and her choices.

Ona still hasn’t answer to her when she faces the outfit she’s supposed to wear for the ceremony.

She would have love to see Ona sitting next to her mother in the crowd, but she’s not mad or even disappointed. Just a little bit sad to have a reminder of what their life will be for now. She will miss having Ona dead asleep next to her every morning when they were supposed to gets up for training. Or a koala-Ona begging her not to leave the bed.

After her speech, she got lost a little bit in her thoughts, but managed to smile at the right time and give right answers to what is addressed to her. They talk to some people around them for several times before Lucy’s father grab her arm.

“Come on, let’s go to the restaurant now” mumble Lucy’s father, probably tired of all this protocol.

Lucy smiles when Jorge snorts and follow her family, taking a look at her phone again. She got several notifications, but still nothing from Ona and she’s writing to Mariona when they pass the doors of the building.

“Hola, Doctor Bronze.”

Lucy almost misses a stair step. She knows that voice by heart and would be able to recognize it between thousands of other voices. But that voice isn’t supposed to be here, she’s supposed to be training in Spain.

But when she raises her eyes, Ona is really in front of her. With her freckles, her chocolate doe eyes and a slight cocky smile.

Lucy doesn’t speak, she breaks the distance to Ona in three great steps, before taking the youngest girl in her arms, in an embrace probably able to break her two or three ribs. But Ona doesn’t complain, in fact she puts her arms around Lucy’s shoulders and hide her face in her neck.

“You are here” Lucy whispers in Ona’s hair, making the Spaniard smiles.

“Of course I am” she whispers back.

“Don’t break your opponent’s back, Luce” Jorge shout from afar.

They both can hear Diane shoving Jorge and the others away, making the couple smile again.

“How are you here?” Lucy asks, looking at her girlfriend.

“Your parents came to take me from the airport. I explained to Tome what was happening, and she said I can come” Ona explains softly, stroking Lucy’s face with her fingers. “It’s just today and tomorrow though.”

“I take it” Lucy smiles.

And now that her family is gone, she puts her lips on Ona’s. She can feel her smile under her lips and she kind of regrets not to be alone with Ona to deepen the kiss.

“So, this is where you studied?” Ona asks, looking around.

Lucy hums, unable to stop looking at Ona. She got a tan from her training in Spain, and she definitively has more freckles. Lucy resists to the envy to kiss every single one of them, choosing to kiss her jaw instead.

“You want me to show you around?”

“Mh deepens. Will there be secret places where you took other girls to kiss?”

“No” Lucy laughs. “Come on.”

Without any hesitation, Ona takes the hand Lucy is reaching out, interlacing their fingers. Like she proposed, Lucy shows the places where she studied, even if she took a lot of classes online too, to be honest. But she likes to have her girlfriend for herself before actually going to the restaurant with her family.

They managed not to cross the path of a lot of people. They know that there is people around and probably photographers. Everyone has a smartphone to take a picture now anyway.

“Oh. There is one more place I want to show you” Lucy says while they were going back to the car. “Come.”

Ona happily follows her girlfriend, not letting her hand go a single second. Lucy turns behind an old building before stopping suddenly. Ona doesn’t really understand what happened, but soon she’s trapped between a wall and her girlfriend, who is smirking at her.

“Now, I have a place here where I kissed a girl on this campus.”

The rest of the night went well. They finally went to the restaurant where Lucy’s family was waiting for them and had a wonderful time. The food was delicious and even if they were with the others Bronze, Lucy never let Ona’s hand go. She played with her fingers during all the time they were sitting. Ona always got along pretty great with the others Bronze, much to her relief. Lucy didn’t have the least concern about it.

Then they finally went to the hotel where Ona took a room, happy to finally be alone. They couldn’t keep their hands away from each other as soon as Ona closes the door behind them.

After several hours and a long shower taking together, they are in bed, facing each other. Their legs are interlinked, and Lucy is stroking Ona’s hip while looking at her.

“I love you so much” Lucy says softly. “I can explain how happy I am to have you here.”

“I love you too. And my girlfriend is a Doctor, I couldn’t miss that, right? Doctor Bronze” Ona teases.

“Why is it so hot when you say it?”

Ona laughs this time and Lucy can only smiles, loving to hear that sound. Ona rolls on her back to stretch, but it’s not Lucy’s taste to see her walk away from her, even if it’s only a few centimeters. She passes her arms around Ona’s body to drag her against her.

“What if I sequester you and I take you to a secret place known only to me?”

“Would you stay with me?”

“Of course”

Ona smiles hearing Lucy’s evidence in her tone.

“Then it wouldn’t be a kidnapping, because I’d be entirely consenting.”

Lucy hums, passing one leg on both of Ona and hide her face in Ona’s neck. She misses her smell too. Lucy’s breath makes the younger shiver, but Ona doesn’t move, only playing with Lucy’s hair.

“What are you thinking about?” Ona asks, realizing that Lucy’s eyes are wide open.

“Barcelona” Lucy mumbles. “The places I love, the places we went together and the one I want to go the next time I’m back.”

“What’s your favorite place?” Ona asks curiously.

“Our home.”

It’s sappy, but Ona loves it. She passes her arms around Lucy to feel her better against her.

“You know how we talk about me coming back to Barcelona at the end of my career?” Lucy asks.

“Yeah?”

Ona’s voice is as calm as possible, but she can’t help but be scared that Lucy already change her mind. England is where she grew up, where her family is. It would be almost normal to want to come back here. Just like she herself wanted to go back to Barcelona.

“We never really talked about what I would do at this time.”

“What would you like to do?”

Ona watch as Lucy rolls on her stomach, so almost completely lying on Ona. But the English Woman just wants to be able to see Ona’s face.

“I know it was just a joke with Mapi in the beginning, but I think I would love to have my own bar. Just somewhere where people can come to drink something and watch sport on TV.”

Lucy is looking at Ona with a lot of attention, almost waiting for the Spaniard to laugh at her face. But Ona never does it, instead she looks thoughtfully at her girlfriend.

“If that’s what makes you happy Luce, just do it” Ona smiles softly.

“You make me happy.”

Ona rolls her eyes with a smile but happily let Lucy kiss her lovingly. The Spaniard missed her girlfriend as much as Lucy missed her. It wasn’t easy for her to let Lucy go in London, but her girlfriend’s happiness is what she cherishes the most.

“But during Barca Femeni’s and Spain women’s games, I’ll have to close the place to come watch you play” Lucy adds soon after.

“Will you wear my jersey?” Ona ask with a smile.

“Mh… Maybe”

“Hot” smirks Ona.

Lucy laughs softly, letting her finger run on Ona’s face. She seems to have more in mind, but Ona knows better than push her to know what’s going on in her mind. Just when she turns her face to kiss Lucy’s wrist, the latter talk again.

“Maybe our children will wear it too?”

“What, a Spanish jersey or a Batlle one?” Ona smirks.

They talked already about having children together, but not really about what team they could play. if they want to play, of course. Lucy is surprised by Ona question, she never thought about it to be honest. But if they stick to their plans, they will be living in Barcelona, so it will be logical for them to play for Spain.

“We will let them chose” Lucy answers wisely.

“Sure, Dr. Bronze” Ona chuckles.

[parachutingkitten]

Why is Pixane So Queer?

Some thoughts on Asexual Romance.

[warning, long post below the cut]

The Ninjago fandom had a very potent reaction to The Quest for the Lost Powers repeatedly describing Pixal and Zane as being 'very close friends'. This seemed quite contradictory to many who assumed the confession of undying love at the end of the last season might have been a small hint at a romantic relationship of some kind. However, after closer examination, it turns out Pixal and Zane don’t ever actually refer to themselves as a couple, and the show has never once referred to them being in an active relationship.

But there’s something here, right? Sure, it’s not explicitly stated, but you are lying to yourself if you can watch them and tell me there is zero romantic subtext going on here. A lot of people got very defensive that the children’s book stated they were friends, especially when it also seemingly confirmed that the much straighter straight boy ship, Kailor, was apparently canon, despite being only implied as a possible future for ages now. But I find this backlash to be a bit strange. Sure, Zane and Pix aren’t exactly ‘just friends’ but, what do you want them to say? That they’re boyfriend and girlfriend? You want these two to say they’re ‘going out’ with each other? You think these two robots are ‘dating’ each other, like they’re just susin’ out the partner pool. Are those the words that fit this relationship to you?

I found myself feeling weirdly offended at everyone, and I think the reason was that these two love-droids haven’t chosen to define their relationship in traditional terms, and so everyone’s insistence that they should be boxed into some sort of traditional term seems inherently strange. It’s like when two elderly people are dating, it feels weird when they say “this is my girlfriend” because despite it being factually true, there’s so much baggage that comes with the word, part of that implication being youth, which is directly at odds with the immediate situation. It’s the correctness of the word paired with the incorrectness of the societal implications which forces you to assess if those societal implications should exist. And that- that is what makes this relationship feel queer. That’s why there’s this undeniably different kinda energy radiating off of it. It’s that rejection of the traditional labels, the refusal to be put into a box, which forces it to be a-typical. But, why? Why does Pixane have this rejection of labels radiating off of it? Their ages, while being literally whack, are presented as being your typical teenage to young adult age romance. Their genders present as a typical hetero pairing. And it’s not like they don’t follow your typical cliche love at first sight plot. I mean, Pixal was pretty explicitly created as a generic love interest character. So, what is it? Why is this queer? Spoiler alert: It’s because they’re asexual.

So, what is asexuality? Strictly defined, it is a community of people who experience little to no sexual attraction to anyone. This is distinct from aromanticism, which is a lack of romantic attraction, and sexual engagement or urges which are their own separate boat, but often have overlap with asexuality. However, for our purposes, we are focused on just the sexual attraction part. You can think of it as the difference between finding someone hot and finding someone cute. That’s the distinction that made it click for me anyway.

Now, as a disclaimer, I am not going to be considering other queer interpretations of this relationship. Not to invalidate them, because of course they’re valid, but specifically because I feel there isn’t precedent for them in the text, and I feel there is for asexuality. This deep dive is particularly about validating asexuality as being queer, and so to do that we have to eliminate any other outstanding factors. People are extremely quick to pin asexual queerness to something else, and that in itself can feel invalidating, even if it’s only attempting to validate other communities as well. Asexual romance is so easily read as straight romance, that any queer undertones have to have an alternate explanation, because asexuality doesn’t seem like enough to cross the barrier. Yes, enby interpretations of Pixane are great, and fantastic, and I would die for your right to follow those headcanons, but to pin the in text queer vibes on the fact that they technically don’t have biological gender, despite having very clear presenting and unwavering genders in text seems like a real easy way to dismiss the asexual coding which is staring me in the face. While things like non-binary or aromantic readings validate communities who have immense oppression and are continually called fake or confused, which is insanely important, asexuality, especially as it stands apart from aromanticism, is often confused as not being a difference at all. You’re just pure! You’re just wholesome! You’re just so sweet and innocent! And yes… yes, I am, but also, it’s more than that. It’s fundamentally something different about the way my brain is wired, and I feel a need to defend the fact that it, specifically, is queer. And in no way am I trying to say that the aces are the most oppressed actually, I don’t want to start the oppression Olympics here, and if we were to, I would probably argue quite the opposite, but I am saying that there is oppression, and it comes from outside and inside of the community, and it is a thing. It’s a different flavor of thing that’s maybe not as severe, but also sits differently. Maybe it’s not as much a pressing thing as other things, but… it’s my thing. It’s what I feel. It’s something I can speak on. So, I’m going to speak on it.

Perhaps one of the largest factors asexuality has to offer is the necessary separation of romance and sex. The packaging of sexual attraction and romantic attraction is so ubiquitous that the term ace is often assumed to be referring to aro/ace people, despite there being a term for that… aro/ace! Asexuality is not an easy queerness to explain, precisely because of this deeply held integration. It’s not a difference of experience necessarily, it’s a lack of a certain experience. I’m not saying this is something you can’t understand, because, unless you’re aromantic, I know you understand it! You are going to be able to like and relate to and feel seen by asexual romances, because the main component it requires is that you have romantic attraction- which is most people. And so many people get confused when you point to an asexual thing and go “I get that! This! This is me!” Because they just respond with “You’re not special, I get that too. Is this supposed to be different?” And, yes, it is, primarily because everything else includes this giant other thing as well, which is sexuality.

When vegans get excited about finding a meal which is especially delicious and also meets their food restrictions, they get particularly excited. That doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy that same vegan meal- no doubt it probably tastes incredibly delicious to you as well. But you likely won’t get that same feeling of excitement, because you don’t live under the same restrictions as vegans do. That’s the same thing I feel when I see an asexually coded romance. I can enjoy the full meal without having to pick things out or ignore vital parts. I have no doubt that others can thoroughly enjoy asexual romances, but you’re going to have to look at it in context of all the dominant romance stories in the world to understand why it’s so different and special to me.

Now, have I cracked the code on asexual romance in media? No. I only have my own experience with asexuality to lean on, and the very limited discourse on the topic I’ve come across while discovering my identity. All of this is simply a theory based on my own thoughts and observations, but these are some explanations as to what might possibly be included in a framework for an asexually coded romance, at least to me.

So, what makes romance asexual? It’s not simply a lack of sexual suggestiveness. Any number of romances aren’t sexually suggestive, but still glaringly heteronormative- especially in children’s television. And it’s also not a lack of initial attraction, as that would throw Pixane out of the running for sure. Well, I have a few things which I feel may contribute to asexual coding of a romantic relationship, and wouldn’t you know, Pixane is a great example of all of them.

Asexual romance may, as many have remarked, come off as more innocent. When you shove all of the focus of characters onto the romantic, emotional connection, rather than any underlying sexual tension, things end up feeling extremely innocent to the layperson. You get the sort of old married couple effect. Two people deeply in love, who just sort of stare at each other in awe, and that others can comment on how cute they are. Again, asexuals don’t necessarily find anything hot. Cuteness is the main operative factor motivating their attraction, so it follows that their interactions would radiate that factor back at observers. The characters might in fact be very touchy, have sex, enjoy that physical touch, but that’s not at the forefront of anyone’s mind in the story. This is an aspect of Pixane that can be read very clearly. Their romance is quite easily described as pure and wholesome by all who have the pleasure of observing them. The way they interact with each other is extremely gentle and supportive, and their level of old married couple vibes is by far the highest of any pairings in the show (aside from perhaps the actual old married couple of Ed and Edna).

Asexual romance, I find to often be less conflict driven. Take the classic enemies to lovers plotline- it’s built on a tension between an innate irrational attraction, and a perceived logical personality conflict. While romantic attraction is certainly not always rational, from my understanding, sexual attraction is often rooted in factors that aren’t at all related to logical compatibility or personality. This means the enemies to lovers plot is primed to work much better when sexually charged, because it presents a clear path to create the hate/love conflict. Not to say that asexual enemies to lovers is impossible, or that asexual partners don’t have conflict between them, but that it is less of an obvious threat to incorporate into asexual romance.  Because there are less factors and layers of attraction to get involved in, there’s less room for conflict and contradiction between them. It is much easier to get tangled up in a situation with more strings. Pixane is a relationship which certainly doesn’t hold much internal conflict. The one disagreement they did have is solved quite neatly with basic communication skills in the middle of season 8. Most of their conflict comes from external factors which separate them or cause misunderstanding, rather than conflict from within the characters themselves.

Asexual romance also has the obvious potential to challenge traditional dating norms. Because there is no impulse to escalate things physically, it makes sense that the progression of an asexual romance would differ from traditional relationships where that escalation is expected. Your asexual romance is bound to get emotionally intense with each other quicker, or at least have it be the focus of their story, because there is no other facet to deal with. Asexuals don’t commonly have sexual fantasies for themselves, but rather romantic fantasies. Not to say that most people don’t have romantic fantasies, but… that’s all we’ve got. And when your impulse is ‘let’s get married, and then maybe I guess we can kiss’, it might seem like things are progressing out of order to the average person. While asexuals don't all hate physical contact or even sexual connection, it isn't an attractive or motivating factor in the same way it is in most romances, so even on a base level, the level of physical contact is likely going to be less than average. Pixane progresses ridiculously out of order. Zane is willing to split his soul for her- it’s only at this point that they romantically hold hands for the first time. It’s the emotional connection between the two that comes first, and all classic tangible symbols of affection and romance that are secondary. The most pronounced physical contact we’ve seen is a cheek kiss, and their most common type of physical contact is enthusiastic hugging (which I’ll dive more into later).

Additionally, because physical affection is more of an afterthought, it would also make sense for labels to come slowly. If you have an incredibly close personal, soulful connection, but you haven’t kissed yet, it makes sense for people around you to assume you’re just really close friends, or perhaps just crushing on each other still. Terms like “girlfriend” and “boyfriend” invoke rather physical tactile images, and so to attempt to apply them to an asexual romance isn’t necessarily wrong but may feel a bit off putting because of this dissonance. Again, it’s this dissonance between the romantic meaning of the word, and the sexual undertones which forces discomfort onto the viewer. Pixal and Zane have yet to kiss each other after years of dancing around each other’s obvious romantic feelings. It remains unclear if they even are in an active romantic relationship at all, or are still mutually pinning, as no labels have been given to their relationship in show. I have no doubt part of this is the lack of planned dates or physical affection which are common outward signals of a traditional established relationship.

A lot of the saucy flirting which accompanies many classic heteronormative romances can seem rather pointless to asexuals. I would venture to say that asexuals are likely more direct and up front with their emotional vulnerability and feelings, because that’s the connection which they are seeking to make. To dance around it with innuendo and mind games is rather unproductive in achieving the end goal. There is less of a pressure to “perform” romance, and instead just be honestly romantic, because the romance isn’t a prelude to sex, or physical affection, it’s the end goal in and of itself. To only pretend to do it is entirely pointless. All of this is likely going to result in a romance which puts less focus on the “game of dating”. I mean, can you imagine Pixane ending up in a Jaya style love triangle? It’s almost an absurd pitch to make, right? There is no performativity to the Pixane relationship, it is exactly as it appears at first glance. And when Zane attempts more traditional, cheesy flirting tactics like in Ninjago Confidential, Pixal is nothing but confused and annoyed by his attempts.

The most prominent example which I feel exemplifies the inherently asexual coding of Pixane applies to many robotic romances- and it’s the characters’ relationship with skin. A lot of sexual suggestion and tension is based on skin. The revealing nature of skin exposure, the feeling of skin on skin being a sexual touchpoint, skin is essential to the sexual experience in most instances. This is part of the reason I love writing romance but have yet to write a kiss between anyone. The sexuality of a kiss is inherently uncomfortable to write for me because you’re encouraged to lean into the physical feeling of the touch of skin. Robots bring to the forefront the idea of this physical contact because their skin is often not exactly skin, and that in itself gives a sort of de facto distance from sexuality. There’s a moment which happens repeatedly with Pixane, and shows up in other robotic romances, like Wall-E and Eve, which I feel highlights this essential separation from the skin of sexuality. Pixane and Wall-Eve both have the ‘clink’ moment, in which intimate physical contact is made, (in Pixane’s case, all of their many hugs) and accentuated by the sound of their metal skin meeting with a loud clink. This sound not only highlights their lack of skin but serves to suck any sexual energy out of the interaction immediately and leaves it purely with the romance intended by the action. It’s not uncommon for people to find the sound humorous, precisely because of how desexualizing it is. It highlights the couples’ incapability of indulging in sexual skin on skin contact, and instead the closeness and companionship the act of touching provides.

And this is why I feel robots are in fact a decent candidate for asexual characters if done properly. Robots being coded as asexual can be a very negative stereotype, particularly when their asexuality is explicitly linked to their lack of emotion and feeling- but media about robots has been trending more positively recently. In fact, robots, if used correctly, may actually validate asexuality explicitly. Robotic characters are often used to explore the idea of what makes humanity human. If we give these robots human-like enough traits, when do they become human? Are they perhaps the most human? And it seems like fictional consensus agrees that sexuality is not required to achieve human status. Stripping away the excess human emotions may be part of what makes robots asexual (or aromatic, if your robot is also incapable of romantic love). The medium of robot literalizes the disconnect that asexuals have with their physical bodies, most notably their skin, and serves to put additional distance between the character and sexual contact, at least in the traditional sense. I mean, think about it, if you want your robot to be sexual, you need to go out of your way to establish that it has sexual capability, because no one is going to simply assume that your fictional robot was designed with that capability in mind. Why would it be, unless that was its explicit purpose? In a way, robots are sort of de facto asexual.

Pixane is queer because it’s asexual, and it’s asexual because they distill down only the purely romantic parts of a romantic relationship. They’re able to do this, in part because of their individual characterization, but also because of their robotic bodies, which make the separation between romance and sexuality just that much easier. They highlight the necessity to separate romance from all of the convoluted sexual layers which often accompany it, and so come out feeling distinctly untraditional and subversive.

That's the theory, again, all hyper based on my own personal experience with asexuality, which is of course not all encompassing. I'd love to hear your thoughts :)

[guilty-pleasures21]

Best friend's brother Miguel

Part 1 - the past

Part 2 - the present

Part 3 - the future

Warnings: breast play, mentions of arousal and sexual thoughts

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

MJ skidded around the corner, spotting X hunched over on the bench outside her biology class. Her hands trembled slightly as she nibbled on her snack and MJ ran up to her quickly.

“X!” she called out to her. X looked up at the sound of her name, revealing her red and swollen eyes to her friend. MJ sank onto the bench beside her and pulled her into a hug. “Aww! Come here. You want to talk about it?”

She’d already messaged MJ last night, after her dad had had one of his anger fits. But MJ knew that she always felt better when she talked about it - when she said it out loud and got it out of her system, tossing it out into the universe. X picked at the skin around her nails, her head still hung low as she fixed her gaze on her hands. She shook her head and clenched her fists.

“Not yet,” she replied softly.

“Okay.” MJ patted her friend on the back gently, trying to soothe her. “What did Miguel say about it?”

He always had this way of knowing exactly what to do or say to make X feel better. It was probably something that he’d picked up from her, after all the times she’d comforted him and looked after him when he himself was feeling down. They’d been through so much already, the two of them, and even though it had brought them to each other, it still sucked that they’d had to suffer so much at such a young age. X bit her lip, hesitating.

“I didn’t tell him yet,” she admitted. MJ’s eyes widened in confusion.

���What?! Why?” X fidgeted with her fingers, still looking at the ground.

“I just … He was so happy - after his game yesterday,” she said. “I just wanted him to get to be happy for a while.”

MJ pursed her lips at the sweet sentiment, trying not to sigh. She cared about people too much sometimes and MJ wished she would just be unafraid to be selfish for once.

“You know he’s going to be upset that you didn’t tell him, right?” she pointed out. X didn’t respond, so she continued. “Do you want me to ask Peter to call him for you?”

There were two Peter’s in their year: the original Peter - who’d been there almost since kindergarten - and Peter B - who’d only joined their school a few years ago. Peter B and MJ had hit it off pretty quickly and started dating soon after, the two of them affectionately known as ‘PBMJ’ by everyone in their year. He and Miguel had gotten on rather well too, when the latter had joined a year later than him, and despite Miguel finding it a little hard to open up at first, they had quickly become the best of friends. X dug her fingernails into her palms, thinking. Then she nodded.

MJ pulled her phone out and messaged Peter that X had had a rough night and was Miguel with him? They weren’t in any of the same classes - Miguel being a literal genius and Peter being a littles less academically inclined - but they usually hung out together during snack and lunch with most of the other guys. Peter responded quickly, letting MJ know that Miguel was already on his way down. He appeared at the bottom of the stairs not a moment later, his fiery gaze scanning the corridor for his girlfriend.

“Cupcake?” he asked, finally spotting her next to MJ’s distinctive red locks. He rushed over to her quickly, Peter following close behind. X looked up at him as he approached, her lip quivering when her eyes landed on him. She stood up when he neared her and he pulled her into a hug, resting his cheek on the top of her head. “¿Qué pasó, mi cupcake? (What happened, my cupcake?)”

She sniffled as he rubbed her back soothingly, burying herself in his chest while she breathed in the comforting nutmeg smell of him. “It was just … the usual.”

He pulled back slightly to look at her, asking the question even though he already knew the answer, “what did he say?”

She clutched onto his shirt, avoiding his gaze as the demeaning words played in her mind on a loop. Of course it wasn’t nearly as bad as the things Gabe’s dad would say to Miguel, but it still hurt, all the same, being constantly told by your own parent that you weren’t good enough. A sob escaped her throat and she curled up against his chest, embarrassed by her swollen eyes and her red face. Maybe he was right, her dad: maybe she really was weak and sensitive and a burden and never going to be able to survive and-

“Hey,” Miguel interrupted her thoughts, tilting her face up to his. “It’s not true, okay? My life would be so much worse without you in it. You make my life so much better, so much easier, and I don’t know how I would have ever made it this far without you. So don’t ever think that way about yourself, okay?” She gulped, then nodded slowly.

“Okay, she agreed quietly.

“You guys want to sit down?” MJ suggested, gesturing to the empty bench beside them. Miguel bent over to catch her gaze, then guided her to sit down on the bench.

“Do you want one?” she asked, holding her box out to him. He looked at the cookie for a moment, then grinned, a mischievous idea entering his mind - anything, he would do anything to make her smile again; to put that pretty little smile back on her face, right where it belonged. He leaned forward and opened his mouth, silently asking her to feed it to him. Her eyes widened in surprise and she glanced around nervously, hoping no one was watching.

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked her, stroking her thigh with his thumb, one arm slung over the bench behind her. “I don’t want you getting gastric over this.”

X took out her snacks again and continued where she left off, biting off larger chunks of her cookie this time.

“Miguel,” she mumbled shyly. But she popped the cookie into his mouth, her lips finally curling into that sweet smile that made his heart start fluttering in his chest every time he saw it. He sat back and chewed on the cookie, smiling at her with delight. She returned the look, her eyes a little brighter, her features a little more relaxed, and his heart ached at the thought of how much she must have cried last night in bed.

“Why didn’t you message me, cupcake?” he asked her, brows furrowed with concern. She twisted her fingers together, turning away from him again.

“I just … It was late,” she told him. “I didn’t want to disturb you.” He bent over to get her to return her gaze to his.

“You never disturb me, mi cupcake. ¿Sí?” He paused for a moment to let her understand how serious he was before he pulled her into his side, cuddling her close. “I always want to know how you’re doing. Now I’m going to worry every time you don’t message me.” He gestured to MJ, her fingers clasped between Peter’s as they watched over X with concern.

“I’m gonna have to put MJ on speed dial!” Miguel joked. “Get her to check up on you every night.” X snickered softly, then straightened to look up at him.

“Don’t do that, Miguel. I’ll tell you,” she promised him. Then she curled her fingers around his forearm, thinking. “But don’t worry too much, okay? I’ll be fine.”

She glanced around at her friends, always there for her, in spite of everything. A warmth spread through her chest at the knowledge. “I’ve got you guys.”

“You’re darn right you do!” Peter exclaimed in agreement, his voice firm. The four of them laughed at his declaration. Then X’s gaze fell to Miguel’s watch and she gasped when she noticed the time.

“Oh my god!” She grabbed his wrist, pulling it closer to her to confirm the time. “Break time’s going to be over in five minutes!” She turned to Peter, eyes wide with alarm.

“You guys better get back to class!” X instructed them, hopping to her feet and tugging on Miguel’s hands to help him up. He smiled and stood up to wrap his arms around her, pulling her in for a last hug.

“I’ll see you at lunch, ¿sí, cupcake?” She nodded, finally having returned back to her normal cheery self. Miguel turned to go, satisfied and relieved, but then she grabbed his wrist again, scurrying up to him to whisper in his ear.

“I love you, Miguel,” she told him quietly. He didn’t even notice his jaw drop as she lowered herself back to her feet and bit down on her smile, peeking up at him from beneath her eyelashes. She’d never said it before, not in so many words, always just sending him a heart emoji or a kissy face before bed. She shoved him towards the stairs, ignoring his disbelief at her words. “Hurry up! You’re going to be late!”

Miguel followed after Peter as his friend dragged him along, pulling him up the stairs. But then he stopped halfway, bending over the railing to call back to X.

“ X?” She looked over at him, her expression quizzical. He grinned. “¡Yo también, mi cupcake!”

She'd gone over to his place after school, to get a little help with biology and spend some time with him as well. His parents were at work and Gabe was at an after-school club, which meant they had the house all to themselves. So, they’d settled in front of the television once they’d finished, relaxing next to one another side by side. X dragged her fingernails along the top of Miguel's thigh as she leaned against his side, thinking.

“Cupcake?” Miguel asked her, lowering the volume of the television. “¿Qué tal, chica?” He rubbed her arm gently, waiting for her to speak.

‘What's going to happen to us when you go to uni? I know the plan, but do you think we'll stick to it? Do you think you'd stick to it?’ Her stomach churned with nerves at the thought of having to say it out loud. She didn't want him to think she doubted him - she didn't doubt him, not after everything they’d been through together. But … he was still a teenage boy. And a really good looking one too: tall and handsome, not to mention sweet and intelligent. She slumped over in disappointment, thinking about the wide array of people he’d meet who would have so much more to offer him than her.

“X?” Miguel called to her again, noticing the way her eyes had glazed over and the way her fingers kept curling against him. She winced when she heard him say her name, but looked up at him, biting on her lip nervously. Something was bothering her, but she was too afraid to say it. “You know you can tell me anything, right? Just say it, chica. Get it out.”

His voice was gentle and her chest tightened at his concern for her, at his patience and the way he'd come to know her so well. She swallowed, then began talking, lowering her gaze as she whispered the words. “What's … What do you think is going to happen when you go to uni? To us?”

She clenched her fingers into a fist, clutching onto the soft material of his shorts as she did so. He placed his hand over hers and unfurled her fingers, clasping them between his.

“Nothing's going to happen to us, cupcake,” he reassured her, reaching out to brush her hair behind her ear so he could see her face. He cupped her chin in his hand, tilting her face up so she met his gaze. “I'm going to go and have a load of fun, and you and Gabe are going to check up on me at least five times a day - each.”

She let out a soft snort of amusement at the knowing arch of his brow and he smiled in response before continuing. “And we're going to call every weekend, so you can tell me how you're doing and I can tell you what I'm doing and then you're going to come join me in a year. We'll share the same room and everything!”

He grinned with delight at the idea, excited by how grown up they'd be, sharing a room together at uni, looking after themselves and each other.

“And besides,” he added quickly, “I'll be back for Christmas. And summer break. We'll be fine, cupcake.” He brushed his thumb along her cheek, his eyes trailing over her features as he waited for her response. Her brows furrowed together again and she bit down on her lip, still troubled by something.

“But,” she paused to take in a breath, trying to speak around the rapidly tightening knot in her stomach. “You're going to meet so many people there, Miguel. And … And what if you like someone better than me?”

‘¡¿Estás loca, mi cupcake?!’ he wanted to ask. ‘How the hell could I ever like anyone more than I like you?! More than I love you?’ But she still had more to say, so he waited as she clenched her fists again, grinding her teeth together as she tried to summon up the courage to say what she wanted to say next.

“I'd rather you break up with me than cheat on me.” Her voice caught as she said the words, a soft sob escaping her throat as she felt the pressure beginning to build up behind her eyes. She shuffled away from him, embarrassed, and curled into herself to try to hide her vulnerability from him. Weak, she was so weak. So weak and so sensitive and so needy. How could he ever like someone like her? She was just a burden, just another clingy thing on his plate begging for him to take care of her. He could do so much better than her - he would do so much better than her. One day. When he finally realised it too.

He shifted closer to her, his heart breaking at the sight of the tears streaming down her face. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, patting her back soothingly as he held her close to him. He knew what she was thinking, knew the words that had engraved themselves into her mind after having spent far too long being thrown at her.

“I'd rather do none of those things,” he told her, his voice firm. “You are not a burden, mi cupcake. I love you. So much. You make my life so much easier - so much better! My day's always a little brighter whenever you're in it.

“I'm going to miss you so much when I'm gone.” He hadn't told her yet, how he'd toss and turn in bed some nights, terrified at the thought of having to leave everything he knew - everyone he loved. Of course he was looking forward to finally escaping his parents, but he also worried about leaving her and Gabe behind - would they forget about him? Would they just carry on with everyone else the way they'd always done? What would happen to him then? He wrapped his arms a little tighter around her. “You and Gabe both. Sometimes I get scared you guys will forget about me.”

X pulled back to frown at him, smacking him on the chest as she twisted her lips into a little pout. “Don't be stupid, Miguel. Of course we'd never forget about you! We love you so much!”

She curled herself around him, squeezing him tight to let him know that she wasn't planning on letting him go. Ever. He snickered softly, returning her hug.

“Exactly,” he pointed out. “I love you so much too. How could you even think that I could ever forget about you?” She relaxed, the tension easing from her body as she considered his words. He'd always been so strong, so brave, and she'd constantly wondered how he wasn't weighed down by the same doubts that absolutely crippled her whenever she thought about having to leave everything she'd ever known behind. But he did have his doubts - he just hadn't shared them with anyone. She sat back, her expression serious now as she switched to problem-solving mode.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. “What you're worried about.” He let his gaze trail over her for a minute, his sweet little girlfriend who always looked after him so carefully. He reached out to cup her cheek in his hand, stroking his thumb along her skin gently.

“I'm worried …” he hesitated, not wanting to voice his fears - not wanting to say them out loud and have them become real. “What if I go there and I don't make any friends? And then I come back and I don't have any more friends here either?” She took hold of his hand, tangling their fingers together before lowering it to her lap.

“Of course you'll make friends, Miguel,” she reassured him confidently. “You're great! Maybe you need a little time to open up first, but just put yourself out there. What have you got to lose?”

He bit his lip, not entirely convinced yet. So she continued. “I'm sure tonnes of people are feeling the same way as you. Have you talked to Peter or any of the other guys?”

He shook his head, his fingers tightening around hers as he gazed off into the distance. He didn't want them to think he was weak or a loser or something. X stroked the back of his hand with her thumb.

“Well, you don't have to tell them how you're feeling,” she suggested cautiously. “But you can always make plans with them. ‘Hey, I'm still going to kick your butt on CS Go every Saturday, right?’” She lowered her voice to imitate his, spreading herself out to make her seem larger as well. He smiled and she grinned, relieved. She curled up against him, her small body a reassuring weight against his side.

“And you can always ask them to meet up over Christmas break. I'm sure they're scared too.” She twisted her fingers around his, playing with his much larger digits. “And absolute worst case scenario: I come join you in a year.”

She tilted her head back to look up at him, lips stretched wide in a naughty grin. “Am I your worst case scenario, mi Miguelito?”

“No!” He squeezed her hand lightly and rested his cheek on the top of her head, breathing in her familiar fruity scent. “You're my best case scenario, mi cupcake. The scenario I never even imagined I'd get.”

He pressed a kiss to her hair and they stayed like that, both of them reassured after having their worries soothed by the other.

She bounced on the balls of her feet, her eyes fixed on the escalator, constantly on watch for her boyfriend’s familiar towering frame and mahogany hair and piercing copper gaze. What was taking him so long? Couldn't the train move any faster?

X had gone to her mother after Gabe's mum had rejected their plan of driving to the airport to pick up Miguel as a surprise, and she'd agreed to drive them instead, but only as far as the train station. It was a fair deal considering the car ride to the airport would take over an hour. So, X and Gabe had agreed, dashing over to the car as soon as Miguel had messaged that he'd landed. They stood in the train station now, eagerly scanning the screens for a message that the train coming from the airport had arrived. Then finally, wavy brown hair peeking over the top of the escalator, followed by his chiselled features and his muscular torso. X squealed in excitement and Gabe shot her an exasperated look before turning back to his brother and grinning himself.

“Argh!” Gabe exclaimed in frustration from beside her. “What's taking him so long?!”

His mother hadn't wanted to take the day off, claiming that they needed the extra cash now that she'd finally separated from Gabe's asshole of a dad. He still sent money over, of course - as part of the divorce agreement - but it was just enough to cover Gabe's school fees. At least Miguel was already taken care of, with his all-inclusive scholarship he'd worked so hard for, but they still needed money to cover living expenses.

“Miguel! Miguel!” Gabe called out to him, waving his hands in the air to catch his attention. Miguel glanced over at them, confused by their presence at first. Then he grinned and raced over to them, dragging his bag along behind him.

“What … What are you guys doing here?!” he asked them, returning his little brother's enthusiastic hug.

“We wanted to surprise you!” X exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck and bouncing up and down against him as he moved to greet her. She stretched onto her toes and showered his face with kisses, her lips finally landing on his for a quick peck before she lowered herself back to the ground.

“I missed you too, cupcake,” he told her softly, his eyes searching her face for all the things he'd missed over a screen. He turned to Gabe and held out his arm for another hug. “And you too, pollito.”

“Gross,” Gabe chided them, his lips twisting in disapproval - yes he was glad they were together, no that didn't mean he wanted to see all of it. “Can you guys go back to pretending you weren't dating?”

X rolled her eyes, but pulled away from Miguel slightly, putting some space in between them. He reached for her immediately, tugging her back to him and eliciting another disgusted groan from Gabe as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I told you to stop calling me that, Miguel!” Gabe chastised him, moving in for another hug anyway. “I'm not a baby anymore!”

“You'll always be a baby to me, mi pollito,” he retorted, releasing his little brother. “¿Sí, cupcake?”

“That's just how it is, Gabe,” X shrugged in agreement, still tucked into Miguel's side. Gabe rolled his eyes and went to grab his brother's bag, strolling it towards the exit.

“Come on,” he told them, leading the way back to the car. “Aunty Jo's waiting for us. Let's go.”

A few days had passed since he'd been back, his return a whirlwind of catching up with old friends and getting used to life without his stepfather around to torture him anymore. But finally, he and X had managed to find some alone time to spend together. They sat in front of the TV now, her cuddled up against his side while he had his arm slung around her, his fingers playing with her soft curls. He brushed his other thumb across her shins, stroking her legs gently where she'd laid them across his lap, and gradually let his fingers drift down to her shoulder. Then he moved his hand to her other side, brushing away her dark locks to clear a space for him to bend over and press his lips to her neck. He kissed his way up the slender column of her throat, his mouth gentle and soft against her skin. She grinned as he moved his other hand from her legs to her waist, straightening to glance at her before leaning forward to lower his lips to hers. He kissed her, soft and sweet, his tongue swirling around her mouth lazily, and she sighed at the familiar feeling, lamenting how long it had been since she'd properly tasted him. She slid her hand up his hard chest, admiring how much more he'd grown in the time they'd been apart and he tugged at her waist, trying to pull her even closer to him. She shifted her position, swinging herself up onto his lap instead and he grinned, delighted, prompting her to let out a shy giggle before she pressed her mouth back to his.

Dios, he'd missed her, her cute smile, her messy curls, her delicious lips. It just wasn't the same, talking to her over a screen. Now he could smell her, touch her, taste her, his lovely little cupcake, all his to enjoy. He held onto her hips as he kissed her, his fingers sneaking under her shirt to crawl up her waist. She was so soft, with her smooth curves and the tiny hairs dotting her skin. She curled her arms around his neck, burying the fingers of one hand in his hair and dragging the nails of the other down the tip of his spine. He tightened his grip on her as she let out a little moan, then slid his hands up her back, his calloused palms running across her bare skin. She shivered at the sensation and moved to grab his shoulders, her fingers digging into his muscles as she pulled back a little.

“Do you …” Miguel began softly, rubbing her back gently as he pressed his lips to her collarbone. He made his way up her throat slowly, his lips closing around her skin to suck on her lightly, and she shifted in his lap. “You want to go to my room, mi cupcake?”

Every time he called her that, she'd feel a tingle zip through her brain. It just made her sound so sweet and innocent, so small and cute next to him, with his towering height and his broad shoulders and his deep rumble of a voice. But … she was getting a little nervous; he'd never touched her like this before - no one had ever touched her like this before - and she didn't know quite what he was expecting from her if they went up to his room.

“Miguel,” she began nervously, removing her hands from his shoulders.

“¿Sí, mi cupcake?” That tingle again. That low rumble of his voice that sank into her skin and danced along her bones. And it didn't help that his hands were all over her now, touching her, stroking her, caressing her so tenderly. She shifted again, wriggling away from him a little more.

“Miguel, I don't …” She stopped to consider her next words, taking hold of his hands to remove them from beneath her shirt. She didn't what? She didn't want him to touch her like that? It felt nice though, having his hands brushing along her skin like that, familiarising themselves with her body. It made her tingle in places she'd never felt herself tingle before. But … “I don't think I'm ready yet.”

She clenched her fists and squeezed her legs together as she waited, her features twisting into a wince in anticipation of his response. His eyes widened with alarm and he gulped, a wave of guilt overcoming him. He reached a hand out to cup her cheek in his hand and she glanced up at him apprehensively, worrying at her lower lip.

“X, we … we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with,” he reassured her, shrugging it off nonchalantly. He brushed his thumb across her cheek, smiling at her softly to let her know that he meant it. She glanced away from him, still thinking.

“But … But I want to try. Some stuff,” she mumbled, getting a little uncertain again. She did want to try touching him, just a little. It was all she could think about sometimes, her hormones driving her crazy as she daydreamed about her super hot, super sweet, slightly older boyfriend. But … she didn't think she was ready for all of it yet. There was no going back from it, after all, once they actually did it. And what if she didn't like it? What if he didn't like it? Could they continue to date after that? Would he be happy to just kiss her and touch her occasionally? Waiting and waiting until she finally felt ready to let him know her like that? She peeked up at him nervously. “Do people in uni do it? Like, all the time?”

He knew some people did, definitely. There were a few guys on the basketball team who would brag about all the sex they'd had at the wild parties they'd go to over the weekends. But no one really talked about it that much, most of the time. They were happy to just keep stuff like that to themselves. Especially the ones who were already in secure relationships. Like he was. His stomach gave a happy flip at the reminder, at the sight of his precious little girlfriend in front of him, their relationship so grown up and stable - the only stable thing in his life at times.

“Not all the time,” he replied, his tone a little unsure. “I don't think most people do it, actually. But when have you ever cared about what other people do?” He grinned, his little fangs pressing into his plush bottom lip, and she smiled in agreement.

“I … I want to try,” he began cautiously, not wanting her to feel like he was pressuring her into anything. “But I don't … I don't want to do it if you're not going to like it.”

“I don't,” she agreed, “but … what about you? What do you want to do?”

She squeezed his shoulder, still keeping that slight bit of distance between them. He brushed his thumbs along her knees, considering. He did want to know what it felt like, having sex. But only with her. He only wanted to know what she would feel like, bare beneath him, her skin sliding against his as he learned the feel of her. And if she wasn't ready … well, then he'd just wait. He wanted her to enjoy it, after all, having him touch her like that, having him know every last inch of her so completely.

She squeezed his shoulder again, then relaxed her grip, repeating the movement once more before she finally stood up. She turned to the stairs, then held her hand out to him, gesturing for him to follow her, and he hopped up, excited now. She led him up to his bedroom, curling her fingers around his tightly and glancing up at him occasionally with that shy little smile that drove him crazy. Then finally, they were in his room, and he shut and locked the door behind him while she waited for him by the foot of his bed. He walked over to her, his steps slow, careful, and she bit her lip as she peeked up at him nervously.

“What do you want to do?” he asked softly, stopping just in front of her. She pulled on the hem of her shirt, fidgeting with it as she contemplated her response.

“I can take my shirt off?” she suggested, looking up to him for confirmation. He nodded and she returned her gaze to the floor again. “But … can you take yours off too?”

He reached down and pulled his shirt off, tossing it onto his desk when he was done. He held his breath as she did the same, hesitantly exposing her smooth skin to him, the curves of her breasts, the dip of her waist. She still had her bra on, but it was still more than he'd ever seen of her anyway. More, but not enough.

She bit her lip as the sight of him, his tanned skin stretched across his broad torso. He was so handsome, her boyfriend, and she still couldn't quite believe that he was hers, that he was the one who'd made the first move, asking her if he could kiss her all those nights ago. She stepped forward and brushed her fingers across his chest, delighting in the feeling of the hard muscles beneath them. She slid her hands up to his shoulders as she stepped closer to him, then ran them down his arms. He felt nice, she decided, and she wanted to know what he would feel like pressed up against her. She took his hands in hers, squeezing them as she built up the courage to speak her next request. “Can you … sit down on the bed?”

He nodded quickly and sank onto the end of his bed, waiting as she studied him curiously. He could feel his heart speeding up in his chest as she approached him, his body heating up in anticipation of what they might be about to do. Finally, she took a seat on top of him, one leg on either side of him as she settled onto his lap. He curled his fingers around her waist as she wriggled closer to him, stopping just in front of his centre. He waited patiently as she ran her hands over his body, taking her time to familiarise herself with the feel of him beneath her hands - he wanted to let her take the lead, wanted her to dictate the pace at which they went. Even though his fingers ached to drift all over her soft curves and her smooth skin, so lovely between his hands. Eventually, she slid her fingers into his hair, burying them in the strands as she kissed him sweetly.

She could feel herself starting to get excited as she kissed him, their tongues tangling with one another's, their bare skin sliding against each other's. And she found herself wanting more; more than just his warm hands running up and down her back. So she pulled away from him slightly.

He swallowed hard and raised his hands to the clasp of her bra, undoing it and then slipping it off of her. F*ck! She was … so pretty, her breasts full and round; like the frosting on top of a cupcake. He glanced up at her quickly, silently asking for permission, then reached up to cup her breasts, his hands closing around her flesh.

“Do you want to take it off?” she asked him softly. He raised an eyebrow, confused, so she dropped her hands to his arms and squeezed his biceps gently. “My bra. You can try taking it off if you want.”

She bit her lip and lowered her gaze as he sat there in stunned silence. Then she flickered her eyes back up to his when he still hadn't responded.

“Ay, mierda,” he breathed, surprised by how soft she was. He kneaded her breasts in his hands, pinching her nipples between his fingers, and she winced at the sensation. He dropped his hands quickly and looked up at her in question, his brows furrowed with concern.

“They're a little sensitive,” she explained, her fingers splayed out across his abdomen. “I think they’re still growing or something.”

“They can get bigger?” he asked, the words falling out of his mouth before he could stop them. He turned away from her, embarrassed by the disbelieving tone in his own voice, but she just grinned and tilted her head down to study her own chest.

“I think so.” She pursed her lips, thinking about it. “I don't want them to though. I like them this size.” She looked back up at him again, her nerves disappearing as the logical part of her brain took over, his little scientist girlfriend.

“I think, like, any bigger and they would be … too heavy?” she wondered, considering the thought. “I think it can hurt your back and stuff, if they're too big. And then they also swell up around your period? And then apparently when you're pregnant? So that would just be too much.”

He nodded, not quite able to focus on her words when she was sitting on his lap, her torso bare and unclothed before him. She really was so pretty. But he knew that she didn't believe it, what with the occasional smattering of acne across her cheeks and the constant put-downs by her father.

“You're really pretty,” he blurted out suddenly. Her eyes widened in surprise, caught off guard, so he repeated himself. “You're, like, really pretty. Like, your face and your …” He paused to wave his hands up and down her length.

“Body,” he continued, finally remembering the word. “And, like, Dios mío, every time you smile? Ugh!” He groaned, his head falling back in frustration as her beautiful smile popped into his brain. He returned his attention to her and he swore his heart skipped a beat as her features stretched into that pretty little smile he loved so much. He and everyone else he knew, the entire school holding their breaths in concern whenever she showed up without her signature smile gracing her features. She brushed her hair behind her ear, suddenly shy again, and this time, he felt his heart start thudding in his chest.

“Um, thanks, Miguel.” She straightened and cupped his cheek in her hand, leaning forward to start kissing him again. Their teeth clashed together as she smiled, delighting in the way he slid his hands over her curves, his fingers returning to her breasts so he could run his thumbs softly around her nipples. Then he dropped his hands back to her waist as he brushed his lips along her cheek, his mouth carefully making its way down her neck. He stopped to tug on the skin at the crook of her neck with his teeth, then he dragged his tongue along the same spot and sucked on it softly. Her head fell back with pleasure at the feeling and he moved his hands to her lower back to keep her upright against him. She sucked in a breath as he continued making his way lower down her chest, the place between her legs starting to throb as he neared her nipple. Then finally, he pressed his lips to her peak, sucking on her gently in a way that had her core contracting hard. She shivered and he chuckled before pulling back to look up at her.

“What was that?” he asked, grinning with amusement at the dazed look on her face. She bit her lip and ran her fingers through his hair, delighting in the feeling of the soft and wavy strands against her skin.

“That feels really nice,” she admitted to him, her voice just a whisper. “Can you … Can you do it again?”

Of course he could do it again: he liked it too, pressing his lips to her skin, brushing them along all her intimate parts. She was so soft and it felt so nice, touching his girlfriend like this, seeing the pleasure she derived from it. It was starting to get him pretty hard. He dipped his head back down to her chest and closed his mouth around her breast, licking her up like she was a little cupcake. Mierda, she was delicious. She gave a surprised whimper as he pulled her against him suddenly, but then began moving her hips against his, finally giving him some of the relief his centre was so desperately begging for.

“Miguel,” she squeaked, wriggling away from him slightly. He groaned in satisfaction as her breast released from his mouth with a wet ‘pop’, then he straightened to look up at her, his broad chest heaving with shallow breaths.

“¿Sí, cupcake?” She swallowed hard at the sound of his voice, low and hoarse and thick with desire for her.

“Miguel,” she repeated, trying to gather her thoughts. She was feeling a little dampness in her underwear and she wasn't sure what was causing it. She did know that she'd liked feeling him beneath her though, the relief coursing through her veins as she'd rolled her hips against his. “Is this okay? Like, if I just, like, move my hips against you? Like, is that okay for you?”

¡Dios, por favor! How was she so cute?! Did she think he was nervous? That there was anything he wouldn't want to do with her? She was insane if she did. “It's fine. You can do whatever you want, mi cupcake, I don't mind. I just don't want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“Mmm, okay.” She nodded slowly, considering his words. Then she shuffled forward again, pressing her body to his and clutching onto his shoulders before she rolled her hips against his. Holy shit, it felt good! She let her instincts take over, her body wriggling against his as she grinded herself into him.

“Anyone home?!” he bellowed, his footsteps echoing around the house as he tried to locate his brother. X startled at the sound, her eyes widening with alarm. Then she pulled back from Miguel, a sheepish smile on her face.

“Mmm, cupcake,” Miguel groaned as she curled herself around him, his voice rumbling out of his chest and vibrating against hers. “Santo cielo, that feels good.”

He grabbed onto her ass, grinding her harder against him as he thrust his hips against hers. She whimpered into his neck, her brain going numb with all the delicious sensations teasing her right now: his scent, his voice, her breasts against his chest, her hips on top of his. She was starting to get so wet now, her vagina throbbing and pulsing on top of his centre. And then the main door opened and Gabe's cheery voice broke into both of their thoughts.

“Um, we'd better …” she gestured to the door, then got up off of him, picking up her bra and shirt to pull them back on. Miguel sighed, trying not to be too disappointed by the fact that he'd just been c*ckblocked by his own brother. But then he got up too, slipping his shirt back on and grabbing his towel to help his girlfriend clean herself up. She glanced away from him, her gaze bouncing between him and the floor as her cheeks heated up with excitement.

“Um, we can always do that again, right?” she asked him shyly, cute little smile stretched across her lips. “Like, when you're free? Or something?”

He stared at her for a moment, his stomach flipping with excitement at the thought of them doing that again - and maybe even taking things further the next time. “Uh, yeah! Yes! Whatever you want, mi cupcake. Anything.”

He grinned and she lowered her head, her cheeks starting to hurt now from how much she kept smiling. He always made her feel so safe, so comfortable, and she would have endured whatever she'd been through a hundred times over if it meant she got to meet him every time. They adjusted their clothes, then went down to greet Gabe, the both of them exchanging thrilled grins every time their eyes met.

X played with her food as she thought about her question, building up the courage to say it. “Would you guys … Do you think you'd, like, do ‘it’? Before you got married?”

“What?! No!” Gwen replied immediately, the blush racing across her cheeks at the question. “That's so gross.”

“Hmm.” MJ pursed her lips to the side, genuinely considering the question. “I guess I'd like to try. It sounds fun.”

“He didn't …” she hesitated, trying to figure out how much she wanted to share with them. “Like, we didn't … We were just touching and stuff. And … it kind of felt really nice.” She ducked her head into the collar of her shirt as she said it, embarrassed, and MJ's and Gwen's eyes widened with surprise.

She shrugged nonchalantly, as if it wasn't a big deal, having someone touch you so intimately, having them become a part of you, if only for a moment. Then she shot X a wicked smile. “Why? Did Miguel ask you to?”

The boys had returned to uni about a week ago, and she and Miguel had touched each other a few more times after that first time. She'd still been too nervous to take it all the way though, always insisting that they keep their underwear on. Even though he'd already given her what she supposed was an orgasm a few times already. She liked those, but she still felt pretty out of her depth. Though he didn't seem to know much more than she did - she was his first too. So, she'd done what she did best - research. And then she'd tried touching herself sometimes, in the shower, just seeing what she liked and what she didn't. X shook her head.

“What was it like?” Gwen asked, suddenly curious. She'd never really been interested in any of the boys at their school, though she and original Peter had seemed like they'd had something going on at one point. But Gwen had always been the more logical type, thinking with her head more than her heart, so she'd decided to focus more on her studies and nothing had come of it after Peter had gone to uni. X shifted uncomfortably.

“Um, it was really nice, actually,” she admitted softly, recalling the feeling of his skin against hers. “But we haven't done anything more than that!” She didn't really want to tell them just how far they'd gone - some things she wanted to keep between her boyfriend and herself - but it was nice to know that she wasn't the only one who was a little nervous about it.

“What do you think is gonna happen when you go to uni?” MJ asked, perched on the edge of her seat now. “Do you think he's going to want to do it?”

“Uh,” X clenched and unclenched her fists, contemplating the question. They hadn't really talked about it, what would happen when they were living together. But Miguel didn't seem too fussed about it - he was just excited about how grown up they'd be, sharing a place away from their parents. In fact, he never really seemed too fussed about anything when it came to her, like it was all just inevitable anyway, like they'd be together always. She liked that about him: that he never made her feel like a burden or someone who needed to be bubble wrapped and watched over like glass. He believed in her, even when she found it hard to believe in herself, and he was always there for her when she needed it. “I don't know. We'll just see how it goes, I guess.”

‘I don't mind,’ was what she didn't add. She didn't mind, not when it was Miguel. And not when they'd be in their own place, away from their parents and their siblings. Her heart fluttered at the thought, a mixture of nervousness and excitement bubbling in her stomach. She grinned as the conversation turned to MJ's light-hearted rants about Peter B and his cluelessness about her wanting to progress their relationship as well. The three friends continued to exchange good-natured jabs as they finished up their food, all of them making a silent promise to themselves to never let real life get in the way of their friendship: not now, not ever.

[lirational]

Fluttering in the Mist

Yandere!Adela x Reader

Content warnings: Memory alteration, memory loss, dubious consent, fingering, yandere behavior. DARK CONTENT. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

SMUT UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Clink!

As soon as the doorbell rang, you heard her voice.

“(Name)? Welcome, is there anything I could help you with?”

Her voice was familiar, comforting, followed with the scent of lavender that made your tense muscles start to relax. Though it was a small thing, it was still a gesture you appreciated.

You were giddy, eager to all but spill your newest achievement to your best friend. Though your friendship started on not so smoothly, with Adela, still a stranger at that time, offering to make you forget everything that hurts, with no prompt or explanation. You reacted as anyone sane would if they were offered hard drugs by a stranger, yet to your luck, she did not take it personally, even helping you get settled in the area.

She did not have any reason to offer you that much kindness. Not while you were strangers to each other. Yet, if you knew she would be this much of a close friend to you, you would turn back time and admonish your past self for almost turning her away.

“Just thought I’d stop by,” you answer, voice barely able to contain your excitement, “Can I get a trim, too? I mean, sure, I know you, but your skills come highly recommended by everyone here,”

“Come, now, take a seat right there, I’ll wash your hair, and you, my dear friend, can tell me what got you leaping over the moon,” she gestured at the washing table, the emphasis of the word lost on you. Humming a disjointed, happy tune, you obliged, letting yourself sink on the plush chair.

“Remember to close your eyes, now,”

Warm water cascaded from the top of your head, the temperature just right to coax you into a state of relaxation. Her fingers sometimes brush against your ears, and you had to remind yourself not to get too lost in the feeling, or you would’ve fallen asleep. Her fingers occasionally brush your ear, prompting a shiver down your spine.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

Her voice snapped you out from the comfort, bringing back the joy you had almost forgotten to tell her.

“Do you still remember the girl I met in the flower shop? The one I told you about before? Well, she agreed to go out with me this weekend!” You couldn’t keep the giddy tone out from your voice, excitement almost prompting you to open your eyes. “She said we can go for a nice meal and talk. I really can’t wait! Dammit, if only time can go by faster…”

Adela was massaging your scalp as you talked, fingers almost coaxing you to talk more with each gentle press. She seemed content to listen, while you, in your bliss, did not see her furrowed brows and stiff expression.

“Congratulations, I wish you the best. See? Living here isn’t quite so bad,” Adela replied, though in your relaxation, you did not realize that her voice wavered ever so slightly even as her hands went through practiced motions.

You still remained oblivious.

“On another note, have you considered my offer yet?” She asked, changing the topic. “I have room for one more, and you could save more by living with me, hm?”

With a distinct creak, she turned off the water, prompting you to answer.

“Really, thank you for the offer, Adela, but I would hate to impose,” you rejected, a bit more firm this time.

Snip.

You felt like you were snapped out from a long, deep daydream, brought back to reality to meet her light blue eyes. Under the dim light of the place, her eyes gleamed, hidden intentions concealed behind loving gaze.

“Why would you? You were already staying with me all the while. All we need to do is to make it official.”

“I’m… ah, you might be right, I thought—“

Snip.

“Shush, you’ve been so wound up all this time… poor little thing, you didn’t even have a proper place to sleep, and now, look at how disoriented you are.”

Her voice wrapped inside you, filling the strange cavity in your head that seemed to blossom out of nowhere. Overwhelming comfort bled from each word she spoke, hugging and grounding you to her, only letting you hear the distinct snip snip of her scissors and nothing else. Strands of your hair fluttered down to the floor, and relief washed over you each time they hit the floor.

Another snip, her finger brushed the curve of your ear, and you leaned into her touch, driven by something you cannot quite place.

“Let me just tidy you up a bit, then we can relax, hm?” Her voice have lowered to a gentle whisper, like a caress that fills the cracks forming in your memories, like liquid gold applied to mend a fractured porcelain. She adjusted your head to its proper position, eyes meeting yours for a moment before she continued.

“That is right, I do feel tired… thanks, Adela. I was so excited for the date with, with…”

Snip.

“You must be so exhausted, even forgetting the date plans with your girlfriend right here…” she finished your words, and once again, a strange calm washed upon you, the conflicting sense of wrong and right fighting for dominance in your mind with the former on the losing side. White wisps flutter in your vision, bathing the place in thin, flowing mist, yet the only other person with you did not seem to notice.

Your lover, no—

Your thoughts were interrupted with a deafening, firm snip so close to your ears, and it disappeared through your fingers, much like the mist covering your vision that you could not attempt to even grasp.

Adela never let you dwell long enough on each gaping void in your mind, and this time, there was a lilt full of desire in her words, “Shush, it’s okay, I know you were so tired these days. No one would hire you all because you didn’t have any references to vouch for you.”

There it was, once again, a sense of wrongness, only lasting for half a second at most before another snip tore through these thoughts, leaving another gaping void for Adela to fill and mend with her sweet voice. With your proximity, you could smell her perfume, the sense of familiarity stronger than anything else you could come up with.

“It’s okay, my love, I will always be here for you.”

A traitorous, oh so pleasurable shiver went down your spine, settling between your legs.

You could feel the tug of a strong, strong connection with her, a connection that stayed taut and grounding even as everything else crumbled down into the dark cracks of your thoughts. Any attempts to pull anything out from the void only disoriented you further, while her voice became an anchor, the one rock you can rely on to steady your feet.

Your hair looked immaculate, clever layering creating the illusion or volume and care you certainly did not put in. Pieces of hair littered the floor below you, and for a moment, you felt the strange urge to grab a strand.

Perhaps, it would alleviate this sense of deep, clawing wrongness.

A final snip on your bangs banished the thought, the metallic gleam of the scissors was reflected in the mirror in front of you. Adela placed the tool back into its box soon after, her lips so close to the shell of your ear, enough for her canine to graze it. Her breaths fanned your skin as she moved lower, sucking a smudged mark stained by dark lipstick, a mark that will almost certainly bloom into a bruise on your shoulder.

“Oh, is my lovely girlfriend still wound up?” She asked with a smirk, sucking another mark at the delicate spot that beats along with your heartbeat. Not giving you a chance to ponder, she spun the chair around, forcing you to face her before she locked her lips onto yours.

There was urgency to the kiss, a hunger similar to a person who was deprived from sweets so long they would crave it no matter how or what has to be done, however, she still savoured the feeling, pale hand pressing on the back of your head to force you to deepen the kiss. Her other hand reached onto your clothes, undressing you and letting your clothes lay forgotten on the chair and the floor, not caring that the hair strands might stick to them.

“See, I was right,” she smiled as she broke the kiss, licking the strand of saliva connecting the two of you while admiring you in your undergarments. With a gaze full of love, she cupped your drenched underwear, almost purring in delight at the strand of liquid that followed her index finger.

“My dear lovely girlfriend seem so stressed. Shh, let me take care of you.”

“But, Adela, wait, I think… something is missing.”

“Shush, everything is okay. I am supposed to unwind you here, after all. You struggling to think is a little against the point here, my love.”

She hooked her index finger and moved aside your ruined underwear, exposing your folds to the cold air of the place. It was like all life outside has faded into a deathly quiet, and nothing existed other than you, Adela - your lover - and the white mist that seemed to blanket the two of you. One experimental finger slipped easily in, and your walls swallowed her up, your body made desperate, so desperate for any kind of stimulation from your attentive girlfriend. A crimson flush colored your cheeks at the thought, yet she just smiled and added another finger in, pumping, spreading you apart, and pressing on that spot that made your toes curl and your fingers grip on the armrest.

“Ah… Adela, please, I—“

She started slow, gleaming blue eyes not breaking contact from yours all the while, though as she moved faster and faster, each movement accompanied with embarassing squelches and moans that slipped unbidden from your lips. Your eyes have rolled to the back of your head, drool slipping out from the corner of your lips.

She licked it off from the corner of your lips, then flashed you a smile, neither breaking eye contact nor ceasing her movements down there all the while. Her other hand rolled your stiff nipples with her thumb and index finger, before she leaned in to swirl and circle patterns onto the sensitive nub with her tongue.

This must be why you felt so giddy when you came here, after all, having such a loving girlfriend was something not everyone was lucky enough to achieve.

“Adela, I am… close!”

“Then let it all out, for me,”

She increased her speed, intent to split you apart with her fingers, and you screamed her name as you tip over the edge, your juices coating her fingers and the chair. It felt like a huge burden has been lifted from you, and as she pulled out, your body fell limp, like a doll with its supporting strings cut. Now, with your worries unreachable even as you struggled, your consciousness started to darken, sleepiness hugging you with a blanket that tempted you to just stop thinking too much.

“See? You were very tired, after all. Close your eyes. Tomorrow, your worries will be nothing but a distant dream…”

With her smile to reassure you, you closed your eyes.

[lunaxstrange]

TRAUMA IN ORV

[SPOILERS]

While it's a common theme in any manhwa or manga for characters to not address each other's (or their own) trauma, I think ORV shows that beautifully.

We, as readers, feel each character's pain because we see every aspect of it. A spectator is mostly the only one well-qualified to differentiate right from wrong in a conflict. The only reason why we're able to do that is because we're readers (or shall I say "fragments of Kim Dokja" because I'm delusional like that T_T).

Do you notice the similarity? The reason why Kdj knew exactly what everyone was feeling at all times is because he always saw them through the eyes of a reader. But that goes contrary to "just because he's read about it doesn't mean he understands it". So, here's my take on it - just because he knows their pain doesn't mean he knows how to confront it. Kdj is the least qualified person out there to talk about one's feelings. He can't even address his own trauma because he doesn't see it from the eyes of a reader. To him, that was the one real thing that's ever happened. And that's why he's a sacrificial squid.

Maybe if we were in ORV (we were, we're all Kdj, remember?), we would've done the same. Kdj's got attachment issues, he's got a lot of issues that need to be paid attention to but nobody knows how to make him feel better. It's difficult to help a person who looks and acts like he doesn't need help.

This distinct parallel that ORV has between Kdj and the readers is what makes this novel so great - what makes it feel alive. It's not that hard to believe that "yes, maybe Kdj did exist", "maybe we all are fragments of Kdj", "yes, it's possible".

I cannot stop talking about this novel. Every part of it is so beautiful. I recommended it to a friend and the only thing I told him is that he can only truly understand the manhwa if he falls in love with the story or the characters. ORV as someone's debut novel/manhwa into reading would be questionable. But for someone who is already a reader, someone whose whole life is books, this is a must read.

I wonder how different the story would've been if Kdj acknowledged that he needs help. Sometimes it hurts that he never even realised the sheer extent of love everyone had for him. Inversely speaking, none of them could ever do what Kdj had done. They might be willing to - to save him, but they couldn't. Because everyone wanted to "see the scenarios end" or something similar to that, while Kdj was the only one who wanted to see the "epilogue". He doesn't even think of himself when he thinks about the future. It's always my companions this my companions that. Everyone's motivation was either each other or the dream of a normal life but his motivation was a story.

Even the author cannot love their own story - they'll always find something wrong with it. Only a reader will ever truly love it. Only a reader can.

[braineater444]

“To Be Better”

Big Brother!Yoshida x Gender Neutral Reader

(Tw: Sexual Abuse, Rape, Incest, Mild Smut, Mental Health, Suicidal Ideation)

A/N: I told myself I would finish this today and I did against my better judgment. This is not fully proofread and a bit different in comparison to other things I’ve written. Not heavy on the smut but definitely heavy. Idk. This isn’t good. Goodnight <3

Your older brother Yoshida is the brightest star to ever shine in your family. He got into all of the top universities (and every school he applied to for that matter) he’s smart, he’s attractive and everyone loves him to pieces, even those he’s only said one word to. He’s that type of guy. Too charismatic for his own good. A revolving door of people interested in being with him. Not a single flaw on his pretty skin.

Then, there’s you. You’re born second, but that doesn’t make you any where near close to second to him. Somehow, even with there being only two of you, you fall further down. You’re not placing in a race with him. You graduated two years after him, but no one from your extended family showed up like they did for him. You had a few friends, but were otherwise known as Hirofumi’s younger sibling. Your existence felt like an inconsequential blip when you were so eclipsed by him in every aspect of anything you did. He is the sun, but to say you’re the moon would be a lie.

So, it felt nice to graduate. To leave the school where every one knew you as a his shadow and the comparisons never ended. It felt nice to go to a community college where no one knew you and forge your own identity.

Even with him out of the house two years before, you still weren’t as free from him as you have been recently. You’re healing as of late. His winter break visit has come and gone and you’re getting better. This summer will be better. There’s just you and sure, you still live with your parents who always compared you to him, but now your lives have almost completely diverged. They have to, after all the work you’ve put in to getting better about being his shadow.

Of course, it’s not as simple as him having disappeared at university forver, though. It cant be your happily ever after. He comes home over his breaks and this one is no different.

The summer air is hot. It’s unpleasant and almost inescapable. There’s three popsicle sticks on your desk and the ceiling fan of your room is going as fast as it can go. It’s working desperately to cool you down with its gentle whirring, but still, you’re sticky with a light cast of sweat as you lay silently on your bed in wait.

You know he’s here. His voice flows proudly all through the house as he greets your parents and asks where you are and why you haven’t come to see him. You can hear him padding down the hall. Your brother has a distinct walk. It’s heavy and light all at once, like he’s waltzing his way to your door. A distinct feeling of dread punctuates each and every step.

As the door to your room swings open, you’re greeted by that same gut punch of a smile that you hadn’t been unfortunate enough to see since winter. This time it’ll be longer. The summer is too long.

“What?” It’s not really a question. Just something to make him go away.

“What?” He repeats back to you. “You’re not excited to see me?” Hirofumi… his voice is like silk; like he’s got it all figured out. It’s no wonder he’s got everyone fooled.

…

Usually it’s the summer heat that keeps you up all night, but tonight it’s him. You can’t see him, but you know he’s there and for that reason you haven’t left your room all day. His presence is an ache in your brain and the dryness of your mouth. This was supposed to be easier.

For the first time since he’s been back, you walk as quietly as possible out of your room praying that he isn’t awake. When you pass his room there’s no light coming from under the closed door and not a sound to be heard.

He’s asleep. Thank god.

You take a breath of relief and hurry yourself through the house, but as you round the corner into the kitchen the lights are on and he’s there. Closing the cabinets after putting up one last dish. And there it is. That sickening smile as he spots you.

“You didn’t eat dinner with us.”

You ignore him and pull open the refrigerator. All of the foods been neatly wrapped up and nicely stacked in small containers. You don’t check them to see what’s inside. Instead, you pick at a bunch of grapes and shovel them into your mouth one by one. There’s nothing to be said. You’re dealing with this well enough.

The grapes are ice cold and pop deliciously in your mouth. This is the best thing to happen to you all day. You needed this. You deserve this. Until, it’s interrupted by a large hand on your shoulder.

You stiffen.

“Don’t-” You turn and smack his hand off of your shoulder.

“Why are you acting like that?” He asks. He’s trapping you between his body and the ice cold inside of the refrigerator. He’s so close. Too close. You can smell him. He smells so fucking good. It’s sweet like fresh cut grass and natural like the wind traveling over the sea. It’s sickening. He’s making you nauseous by being in your space. A headache is forming. He shouldn’t be this close.

Your hand shoots out between the two of you and pushes at his chest before you even realize you’ve moved. You retract your hand like you were burned. “Move.” It’s quiet but stern. He doesn’t budge in the slightest. A look of confusion paints his face.

“What is your problem?” He steels himself.

For a second you almost believe him. You almost believe he’s truly lost and he doesn’t know why you’re acting like this towards him.

“You were fine when I came back over the break in winter.”

Right. Winter. You don’t even want to think about it.

He pulls you away from the refrigerator with a tight grip on your arm. You here it click closed and your brain stops working at the sound. He’s been treating you like this forever. Like a rag doll. For a second you let it happen. You have half a mind to let him do what he’s always done, but with the better half you pull away from him. His hand feels like it should’ve left burn marks in every spot he’d touched.

“Leave me alone.” You want to scream but it comes out as a hushed cry. Your nails dig into his forearm and he lets you go. You stumble back into the counter and you don’t even feel the pain that accompanies it.

“You don’t like me anymore?” His smile is confused. His eyebrows are furrowed. He pretends not to know what’s wrong.

…

You’re dealing with this the best way you know how.

He’s not here, in your room, but somehow he’s everywhere. His smell lingers in there air. Somehow it feels like his hand is still wrapped around your arms. You can’t get rid of him even in the quiet of your own room.

You lock the door. You unlock it. You lock it again.

You flick the light on. You flick it off. You flick it on again. You leave it off.

You start to try to lay back down, but you can’t bring yourself to touch your bed. Not with Hirofumi all over you.

The only solution is a shower.

The water burns just right against your thigh as you step in. You needed this. You weren’t ready to see him again.

Your body is trembling. How long have you been like that? Are there tears in your eye? You can feel your throat tightening up and wetness streaming down your face. Why are you crying? He didn’t do anything to you.

Maybe you shouldn’t be treating him like this. You liked him in the winter. You liked what happened then. You’re fooling yourself into thinking you’re the victim. After all these years, you’re not the victim.

Like a bullet in the chest it hits you all at once. So many years of him fight to the forefront of your thoughts.

Even as you scrub your skin you can feel his hands all over you. You’re sure the soap smells like him. You hold the soap to your nose and the thought goes away. It doesn’t smell like him.

You think about the winter. Your unlocked door. An invite for him to come in. You scrub at your skin.

You remember the heat of his body against yours. When you would beg him to stop. You scrub.

His hands gripping at your chest. Your quiet discomfort as you let him. The tears that rolled down your cheeks and the the way he kissed them away. You’ll clean him off of you even if your skin turns raw.

You can’t breathe. The tightness in your throat is getting worse. You’re sure you’re bawling. You want this to end. To go away. You need to go away.

Your knees buckles under you and when they crack against the shower floor the world becomes clear again. You can hear yourself sobbing. You can feel that the waters too hot against your skin. It’s too much.

A knock on the door comes as you rush to turn the water off.

“Are you okay?” Hirofumi’s voice lingers on the other side. You can smell him again. “Y/N~” He sings your name out with the beat of his second round of knocks at the door. “Do you want me to come in there?”

You’re still crying. You can’t catch your breathe. Your pleads for him not to come in are stuck in your throat.

You hear him say your name again. Then, the door starts to inch open. He can’t do this. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t.

“GO AWAY!” You scream out before you knew you could speak again. The door clicks shut. Footsteps sound further and further until they disappear. Relief. You melt in to the wall of the tub. He’s gone.

There’s no telling how long you stayed there; a mess of sopping wet hair and skin, but you eventually pull yourself together and rush to get your pajamas on. The long pants. The long sleeves. They tug against your wet skin and make you sweat already.

You look in the mirror; into your bloodshot eyes.

You can never brush your teeth enough. It’s like his tongue is always in your mouth. The taste of his breath lingers. The inside of your mouth feels like his. Too much like his. Your lips are so chewed up trying escape the feeling, they crack even more when you brush your teeth. You brush until your gums bleed. Until your mouth feels as raw as your skin. Until the taste of iron replaces him. Until you can sleep at night. The taste of him will come back. It always does.

…

Your parents don’t sit down for breakfast unless he’s around. Your mom doesn’t cook unless it’s for him. You don’t exist outside of him.

You push your food around your plate and tune them out. He’s sitting across from you and you’re not looking up unless you have to. You’re not hungry this morning. You don’t want to be here.

“Why don’t you want to learn how yo drive?”

The question sounds pointed at you. You stop, to listen again.

“You know…” You stop hearing his voice, but you’re sure he’s still talking. You keep looking down at your plate. “…really, I’m your big brother I should.” You can hear that fucking smile in his voice.

“That would be great, wouldn’t it, honey?” Your moms hand rubs soothingly over your thigh. You almost get the urge to cry again, but you can’t. “Hirofumi could be a great person to teach you?”

You look at her, confused.

“He can teach you how to drive. You should really learn. And maybe look at his new car.”

“It’s really nice.” Your dad cuts in.

He has a new car.

“It’d be great. To make new memories and stuff, right?” Hirofumi looks so endearing. The sun coming in through the window surrounds his body in soft morning light. Of course, he’s glowing. He casts a shadow over your breakfast plate.

“I’ll learn to drive on my own time.” You stuff your mouth with eggs.

Your mother insists that you let Hirofumi teach you. She’s like that. He’s her favorite. He does everything right the first time.

You leave breakfast early and leave them to their golden child.

You lock your door. You unlock it. You lock it again. You check the handle. It’s locked.

Your pajamas are suffocating you. It’s only going to get hotter from this point in the day, but you can’t change. You turn your ceiling fan on. You can breath.

You open a book and try to forget.

By the afternoon, the house falls silent. You leave your room and check all around the place. For each room you flick the lights on and of again and again. Not a soul. Tension relieves itself in places you didn’t know you had it. After checking all the locks, you sprawl out on the couch. Let them be gone forever.

…

You’re burning up. You’re sweating. You have a headache. The tv is on, but there’s some other noise. The couch suddenly feels too small.

“Do you want to go in my room?” Hands tap your cheeks to wake you. Your eyes struggle to open. Your mouth doesn’t move. Again. “Do you want to go in my room?” His face is far above yours, there’s brightness in his eyes, but they remain pitch black. His bangs are still too low. “It’s cooler in there. You’re sweating a lot. C’mon.”

He grabs you. Hoists you in to his arms and you latch on to him. You let him carry you. He loves to carry you. You’re so easy. So so easy. Why are you letting him do this.

“Hiro-”

Nothing.

“Hirofumi…”

“Hm?”

“Please take me to my room. I don’t want to do this.”

“It was fine a couple moths ago. Wasn’t it?”

You shake your head. You never liked it. That time you thought if you tried to enjoy it you’d hurt less. If you finally smiled and gave him what he wanted willingly it wouldn’t be as bad as all of the times before. It worked in the moment, but like every time before it came back to haunt you. You can’t do it again, but you don’t argue.

You let him lay you down on his bed. You go limp. You can’t run. You’ve never been able to stop this.

You think you say his name out loud, but if you do, he doesn’t answer. You ask where your mom’s at. Nothing. Your pajama pants are off. You hear yourself say stop. His hand smooths over your underwear.

There’s a moment of darkness and suddenly you’re both naked. You’re pushing at his muscles. His mouth is leaving wet kisses down your body. You swear you’re begging him to end this. There’s something of a cry for help in there. He can’t do this again.

“You wanted this last time, remember?” He breathes over your sex and drags his tongue across. Your body reacts as if you were struck by electricity, but you feel nothing. There’s just a strange wetness between your legs.

He can’t seem to remember the times before when you said no. All the times that came before the winter. When his hands traveled down in to your uniform. When you told him he didn’t need to kiss you before his graduation speech for good luck. When you said you didn’t want to know what he’d taste like. There were so many rejections, but he just can’t be a good brother.

He can only remember when you begged for him at the park last winter. When you let him climb in your bed and rub himself against the curve of your ass. When you licked his semen off the palm of your hand and kissed him hungrily. He can only remember last winter.

You were so scared. You thought you could face your demons head on.

He’s inside you. He’s so deep inside you. His tongue lick’s at the salty tears and sweat on your cheeks. His lips interlock with yours and you don’t kiss back. Not this time. You feel nothing and everything. Every vein dragging in and out of you. Every fingernail digging into your waist. The muscle in his chest where your hands aren’t pushing any more. Every breath he steals from you. But you don’t feel it.

You’re trapped eye to eye under him. His bedside lamp is dim, but you can see his face so close to yours. He’s tearing you apart from the inside. You have to be dying. You want to die.

“Hiro… I’m going to kill myself.” You manage between tears, broken moans and unstable breaths. “Please stop. I’m going to die. I’m going to kill myself.” It all pours out of your mouth like a flood.

“No. I’ll take care of you,” He says as he lays kisses along your throat.

“No. I’ll die.” You sniffle. “I’ll just die. I promise. I can’t do this. Please stop.” You might be screaming. There’s no way for you to tell. He’s slamming in to you harder. You can see it. You can’t feel it, but you know it hurts. Then it all stops. You can’t see anymore. There’s nothing. Again.

He’s there. Laying on your stomach when you come to. You feel sticky. Like your body’s covered in slime. Gross. Like you’re wrapped in spiderwebs. Like your brother’s been inside of you. Like this has been going on for as long as you can remember.

You try to push him off of you. You’re still naked. You don’t want your pajamas back anyway. You just want the shower. You push at his head and try to slide your body from under him. His scalp is wet with sweat.

You just want to shower. He won’t budge. His smell is seeping deeper into your skin by the second.

He turns to face you.

“Mom and dad are out all night. We have time.”

You give up. You’ll never be clean again.