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#So I guess in the long run I won that one lol?
confused-pyramid · 5 months
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Breaking Point
pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader
summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...
word count: 3.4k
warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking
a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!
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You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.
Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.
"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."
You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."
He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."
The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.
He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.
"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."
He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.
A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."
He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.
You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.
***
He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.
Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.
"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."
You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."
Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.
"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.
You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.
"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."
You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.
He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"
You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.
"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."
Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"
"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."
You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."
You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.
"I'll walk you to your car."
He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.
You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.
He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.
He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.
"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."
He doesn't move.
It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.
Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."
Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.
After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.
Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.
"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.
"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."
"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.
You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.
"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"
Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.
Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.
You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."
He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."
You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."
"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.
"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"
His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."
You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."
You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.
***
You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.
He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.
His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.
You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-
The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.
People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.
Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.
When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.
***
You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.
You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.
There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.
"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.
Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."
"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."
He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.
"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.
He shakes his head. "I'm good."
You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.
Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.
"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.
He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."
"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."
He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."
"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."
That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."
"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."
His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"
You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."
His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.
Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.
If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.
Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.
Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.
"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."
It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.
By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.
"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."
He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.
His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.
His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.
He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.
You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.
"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."
Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.
He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.
He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.
The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.
He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.
His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.
He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.
You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.
Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.
Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.
His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.
After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.
You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.
"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."
"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."
You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.
You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.
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thealbatrovss · 17 days
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ghosts in the leaves // worst wolverine x reader
summary: you’ve been stuck in the void for years, and logan doesn’t even seem to care.
one shot: ANGST, then fluff of course. I love a sadass story with a happy ending. swearing lol. suggestive material. This is my favorite one I’ve written so far. Enjoy!!
word count: 1k+
masterlist
He was too busy drinking to notice your silent pleading.
You and Logan sat against the rocky wall of your hideout base. The rest of the group of forgotten heroes were planning the final showdown with Cassandra in the next room over.
They left the two of you alone, noticing the tension growing more and more intense. Logan tried to protest, but they shut him out. He wouldn’t stop grumbling to himself about it. That, you noted, hadn’t changed about him.
Wade would occasionally poke his head out from behind the wall, hoping the reunited couple would get back together already. He loved jumping into other peoples business, you noticed. He seemed like a troublemaker.
Johnny would’ve really loved this guy.
You still didn’t understand why Logan was refusing to talk to you. He looked like hell, but so did you. Did he even care?
You just wanted to wipe the blood from his suit and the dirt from his face. Tell him about the hell you’ve been through down here. Ask him about the hell he’s been through back home.
But Logan would rather gargle piss than talk to you at all. That, you were beginning to realize.
He wouldn’t even look you in the eye. He only looked at you when he first arrived. That familiar glow returned to him at that moment. You thought you saw the love of your life return to you right then and there, eyes and mouth wide open. But by the time you ran over to him, throwing your arms around his body, tears streaming down your face, he was pushing you off him and opening a bottle of bourbon.
You could see him fighting the urge to open another one. He balanced it on his hand, and spun the bottle on the floor like it was a game. Guess he won by the fake smile on his face as he placed the lukewarm drink to his lips.
“Are you going to talk to me? Or are you just going to keep drinking?”
He picked up another glass after downing the last one, licking his lips. “I don’t talk to ghosts.”
Your stomach dropped, like a stone in a pond. Your lips fell, a weight dragging them down. “Logan-”
His fists balled up, face turning red. “Don’t fucking say my name.” All the venom leaking from his mouth seemed to form a weapon meant for himself, but he kept aiming it straight at you. “Just don't.”
You held your head high. “Why not?”
“Because,” he took a long drink before continuing. “Your voice is drilling into my skull, that’s why. I don’t talk to ghosts and they don’t talk to me.” Logan shifted his body, facing away from you.
You closed your mouth, letting the words die inside. Instead, you watched the leaves fall from beside the open door.
The trees here never changed. They were stuck in a perpetual autumn. It was haunting to look at. You forgot there were other seasons sometimes. You missed the snow in winter. Icicles hanging from the roof of Xavier’s mansion. You missed the spring flowers and that early summer rain. All you had was autumn, and Logan had the rest. He didn’t seem to like any of it at all anymore.
The Logan you once knew and loved, if he saw you alive and well, he’d come running to you, holding you tight, whispering words of comfort.
This Logan though…He was tired. And angry. So angry. Grief radiated off every inch of him. It almost became a superpower on its own. You weren’t a stranger to that power. He kept you at a distance too, back when you first met.
You had the outline of his back memorized like the back of your hand. This was your Logan. He was just jaded now. Years of believing that you were dead and that he had failed not only his friends and family, but you, the most important person in the world to him, had changed him.
Down here, your one goal was to reach him. Well, you had accomplished that. But not in the way you had wished.
“If there’s any ghosts here, it’s you.” You said it without looking at him either. Just watched the leaves fall.
Logan shut his eyes tight, the veins in his neck growing stronger. His jaw loosened, the bourbon missing his mouth and spilling all over. “Fuck!” He cursed himself.
“Did someone wet the bed again?” Wade's red head popped its way into the room. “Jesus, you two look like you fucked with the lights off. Does this place even have lights? And have you made up yet? I’m sick and tired of this meeting and I wanna join in.”
He sure knew how to make an entrance. It was almost amazing how annoying he was. Again, Johnny and him would’ve gotten along. But Cassandra got to him first.
“Turn around and walk back in there before I pop that tomato of a fucking head of yours.” Logan spat, taking another swig.
Wade gasped, putting his gloved hand to his mouth. “I’d let you pop just about anything, Wolverine.” Before he could say anything more intrusive, Blade's hand grabbed his head, pulling him back behind the wall. Wade still kept ranting all the way back into the other room.
“I’m glad you have a friend.” You tried, shifting uncomfortably in your super suit. “I wouldn’t of made it if it wasn’t for my friends down here.”
And the thought of you. You wanted to finish with that.
“He’s not my friend.”
“Seems like he’s your friend.”
He shook his head, leaning against a rocky pillar. He wanted to keep the distance between you and him as far as possible. You were going to keep running towards him anyways.
“As soon as I arrived it was too late.” You started. “They were all dead.” You paused, letting the grief settle in. Logan sat there as still as a ghost. “I was going to find you before you found them. I'm so sorry you had to see them like that.” You let the tears flow this time. “But then the TVA- they got me. Said I killed one of their own a few days prior. Which is bullshit. But they didn’t care, and they sent me here. I’ve been trying to get back to you ever since. I'm sorry, Logan.”
It happened as quickly as he drank those bottles. He got up, wobbled a bit as he stood, and walked out the door, crushing autumn leaves under his feet.
The silence he left behind was worse than his venom.
Wade popped his head back in, the other four following as well. “We did it! Operation, Stealing Cassandra’s Wii hidden underneath their bed, is underway!”
“What’s under Cassandra’s bed?” Elektra questioned.
“Oh, all kinds of stuff.” He started counting on his fingers. “Video games, velveeta cheese, a bunch of those for some reason. Cowboy hats, pixie sticks, a signed dvd of The Green Lantern. Truly an evil monster, my god.”
Gambit leaned over to Laura. “Do you think one of my missing cards could be hidden under there?”
Laura ignored him, walking over to you, noticing your wet, red eyes. “Hey, are you okay? Where’s Logan?”
“I’d like to know the answer to that question too, Laura.”
Logan’s daughter nodded, squeezing your shoulder before going to look for the shadow of her father.
It was growing dark now. Night was here and all you wanted was to sleep. Maybe you’d wake up in Logan’s arms again and he’d pepper light kisses across your face, taking all those years without him away. Like they never even happened. Like you never lost anything or anyone.
It was still night out when you woke up. Wade's snores were keeping everyone else up, so they moved him outside. You walked by him as he was passed out in a pile of leaves, making your way towards the burning campfire.
Logan sat slumped over the smoke, chin cradled to his chest. You could’ve sworn you saw tears disappearing into the fire. But you didn’t want his dagger like words again, so you turned back around.
And then you heard your name.
It was whispered so softly, like a strong wind. You waited a few more beats, hoping to hear it again. And you did. His voice was strained. Calloused over like he had said your name so many times before that it hurt so bad every time you never said his name back.
But you did this time.
“Yes, Logan?”
“I was just thinking-” His voice was wavering, like he was on a tightrope, wondering when he’d fall off. “I was thinking about your birthday. I’ve missed so many of them.”
Your eyes glazed over, a well of spring water washing away the autumn you still adored. Before you could run to him, he was already there. Strong arms found their way around you. Those lips kissed every inch of your face. It was like returning home again.
“I’m so fucking sorry.” He was barely keeping it together. “I thought you were dead. And then I saw you and all I saw was another failure. I’ve failed you. You’ve been trapped here. And I didn't come to save you. All I did was punish you.”
“It’s okay.” You held him tight, but he held you tighter. “You didn’t know. You had to go on thinking everyone you loved was dead. Logan, you didn’t deserve that.”
He held your head, finally meeting your eyes with his own. “I love you.” He rarely said it. But he didn’t have to. You always knew. “And I’m sorry.”
“I love you too.”
“I’ll be sorry forever.”
“Then I will be too.”
A mix of sorrow and happiness clung to his face. He laughed, as if he was laughing for the first time. “You’re here. You’re not a ghost. I’m not a ghost.”
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maissafespace · 11 months
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The More, The Merrier.
Reo Mikage x Fem!Reader x Nagi Seishiro.
Request: so sorry but i forgot to add!! could u include double penetration w the reonagi 3some? thank u !!
Warnings: relationship; best friends, childhood friends. explicit sexual content; threesome, foreplay, dry humping, virgin!reader, virgin!reo, virgin!nagi, oral male receiving and female receiving, fingering, penetrative sex, double penetration, anal, overstimulation, degradation kink, praising kink, mean!reo, soft!nagi, double creampies, multiple orgasms, aftercare.
A/n: ngl this was really hot to write. lol. this request was from october of freaking last year lol i'm sorry but i hope i did some justice if you're even still following.
Masterpost - Masterlist.
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You didn't know exactly how you were still friends with Reo, the guy changed and discarted friends like nothing, so to be by his side after a lifetime was surprising to everyone.
So surprising that some people thought you two were in a relationship for some time now.
You weren't, to clear the record.
But there was never a denial on whether you found him attractive enough to sleep with him, the opportunity was simply never given and you were for sure never going to ask just to calm your curiosity on his abilities in bed. It would have been slightly desperate on your part. Even if you dreamt about it in your early teens.
Then, he befriended Nagi, you did too as he brought him around. Another one that you couldn’t help but find attractive, honestly, only blind people wouldn’t. His height was enough to get you riled up, along with the general different in size between the two of you. He was a stud.
Growing and maturing, they both just got better, but it got worse for you as the two untouchable people in your life continued to appear in your horniest of dreams.
Nonetheless, you found yourself cheering for the two of them during every match, you could be in, congratulating them both if they won, consoling them, cooking if they lost, spending your breaks from uni the three of you together, making trips during the holidays...
You three were inseparable, the three best friends.
The three that many believed were fucking between each other.
Reaching Reo’s family house like every other Saturday afternoon with the difference of it not being his apartment, you met his father at the door, he smiled at you warmly, informing you that Nagi was here too with Reo playing videogames, while hewas going to go to an emergency meeting right then. He patted your head as he left the house.
There was a tingling in your stomach for some reason as you made your way up, brushing that to the side you finally entered the room finding Nagi sat with his back to the bed on the ground, while Reo was crossed leg on the bed a bit hunched over.
Your body and his mattress were one and only in a second, laying down beside him, your head close to Nagi's head and Reo's leg.
You felt the slight tension in the room, the awkward air that was hanging heavy at your appearence.
"Hi, are we going to stay like this for long?" You asked as minutes passed where they stood still as statues with their fingers being their only indication of life.
Their eyes met one another briefly, your eyebrow started to arch in confusion. The game became silent seconds later, Nagi was scratching the back of his head as Reo put things back into place all without saying a word and never looking at you.
"What is wrong with you two today?" You asked calmly and honestly a bit scared, were they going to dump you? Or well, stop your friendship?
Reo cleared his throat loudly, leaning against his desk directly in front of you, arms crossed and body stiff trying to relax for whatever he was going to say next. "Well... we were kind of, we talked about something before that left us wondering a bit, you just came in at the… wrong time, I guess."
"Good, what is that?" They kept looking at each other as if choosing who'd say it, patience was running thin now. "Guys."
"Having a threesome." Nagi said as unbothered as ever. Your eyes widened but other than that you kept your compsure, without noticing arching your back. Looking back and forth once again between the two.
"You guys... had a threesome?" You asked baffled. For some reason you felt a bit hurt at the admission. Despite being 18, you were up till then still virgin-
"No! No! We- we just talked about it, like a possibility in the future to experience and then you walked in and things got awkward, since you know- ugh." Reo explained quickly with a hand rubbing his face out of the slight embarrassment he was currently feeling. You felt relief, at least some groupie had not taken them,.. from you.
It felt wrong to think of them as yours but for years they were just that, yours. The only girl they let close to them, the only girl they hugged and complimented.
A chill ran down your whole body, a feeling you knew too well was pooling in your core, you realized that two of the most attractive guys you knew, were standing right there, with a open possibility of having them at the same time without it being awkward in your small friend group.
You stood up, thinking over your next actions carefully as they just looked you pacing around the room and just like you feeling a certain heat in them. Looking at one another, Reo with a tiny smirk.
With your silence he was getting angrier though rather than frustrated, the previous embarrassment completely left in favor of supressing the need to bonk you on the head and stop walking around.
"You're making me dizzy." Nagi said out loud, basically reading his mind. Stopping you in your spot.
"Would you though?" You directly looked at them, more at Reo. He shrugged his shoulders, eyes never leaving you while Nagi gave more of a lazy nod.
Your mind went blank for a second, and when you felt conscious of your own moves, your eyes were half lidded looking directly into Reo's, while the smacking of your lips echoed in the room as they moved so hungrily against the other.
Nagi's figure was behind you, his lips attached to your neck with his hands under your shirt. Your chest pressed against Reo's, your hands on his abs while your ass pressed strongly against Nagi's crotch.
Reo's fingers played with the button of your pants, watching your face flush pink and red in the sloppy kiss, a corner of his lips went up. You seemed so fucked out already and that had him amused, it was arousing to see the composed little girl a puddle in his arms, with his best friend's hands groping all around you.
This was the time he could finally act on his attraction, as much as Nagi could and even you could, without making it worse for all, for this moment at least.
His hand hid behind the zipper of your pants, fingers finding the slick in your freshly shaved skin and he wondered with a grin how many times you walked in so prepared for this moment. Oh fuck, that thought was getting him harder.
Your thighs clenched together at his finger messing with your sensitive clit already. You knew you were mess, but that would make it far more interesting. Your reaction to his fingering had a clear effect on Nagi as well as your rear pushed towards his crotch even more, the bulge a complete hard on, his groans against your skin told it all.
Reo used his free hand to pull away from your kiss, lips swollen and red, soft gasps as you caught your breath but he guided you towards Nagi, your lips connected with his, his hands squeezing your breasts even more, he watched in satisfaction how needy you were as your hand struggle with his pants, trembling and getting frustrated over them.
Your tongue danced with Nagi’s, your body responding to the difference in size as he hunched over to properly kiss you. His hands were burning on your skin, they were far bigger than anything on your body, almost feeling inadequate. You probably were nothing compared to the girls that threw themselves at them, but you couldn’t let yourself down now. If this was your only chance, you had to properly use it.
“Nagi, Reo…” you moaned their names as Nagi’s started to kiss your neck again. “Fuck.”
Nagi slipped your top off in that moment, letting you gasp at the cold air and the sudden wet feeling of Reo’s mouth on your chest. Your face flushed seeing him taking your nipples in his mouth, your hand going around his neck gently, squeezing him whenever either of them gave you stimulation.
Nagi’s long fingers did their job as the palm of his hand pressed against your clit while the tip of two fingers went in and out of your tight hole.
All of your inexperience surfaced at how hungrily you were all dry humping on each other to feel more. Your hips were rubbing against Nagi’s roughly, you could even feel the heat of your clothes at the continuous friction while your hand remained on Reo’s buckling hips. “Shit.” He said over and over. Grabbing your wrist roughly edging himself and just bringing you to his bed, throwing you over it, landing on your stomach, with your hips wiggling on their own.
“Fuck…” you moaned, gasping for air.
You felt the bed dip near your head, looking at Nagi he leaned down to claim your lips as Reo started to take off your pants and panties. Leaving you completely bare, exposed to these hungry men.
The white haired boy led your hand to his crotch, starting to palm it through his pants and slowly taking him out. His cock was bright pink at the tip, oozing a bit of precum, only the sight made your insides melt and you knew they knew, after all Reo who was then fingering you, made the sound of your wet pussy echo in the room. The squelch would have felt embarrassing if it wasn’t for how taken you were with the pretty cock in front of you and your flushed best friend eagerly waiting for you to take him in your mouth.
You moaned at the gentle hand on your face as he guided your hand down the length of his cock. Flinching when you felt the tip of Reo’s tongue starting to explore your cunt. Your legs had closed off or tried as he kept them apart forcefully, with your hand on his hand, gripping on it. “Stop moving around, Y/N. I need to have a taste.” You gave up, listening his voice, raspy, intimidating and a hidden hint of desperation.
They did not stop themselves, you couldn’t even see how Reo was stroking himself at the heightened and intensified pleasure you were receiving.
The amount of time passed reading erotic books and watching porn felt worth while as you practiced what you had visualized. Your tongue swirled around his shaft, moaning around it as much as massaging all around, from the base to his balls to leaving nail marks on his inner thighs and lower abdomen. “Oh, that’s my girl. So good.” Nagi whispered as his hips bucked into your mouth, gagging as he reached the back of your throat.
Your moans grew louder as you felt your climax reach in Reo’s face. Trying to push him off before without success, your thighs clenched around his head as you gave into it. Spasming as he continued to press his tongue on your clit while Nagi continued to fuck your mouth as he kept you in place.
“Come on, baby, a little more.” He whispered to you, as the other side of the bed dipped signaling Reo’s presence. Stroking himself off on top of you as Nagi’s finally cummed into your mouth, drinking down all of his seed after showing it off to him and then caring for Reo’s climax, taking him in your mouth for him to finish.
You’ve probably dreamt of this scenario secretly, as you sat up, the two took turns to claim your lips, grunting at the taste of their cum mix together still present faintly on your lips. Your hands returning to each of their cocks, starting to harden once again.
It was a heated make out session that ended with you on top of Reo, Nagi standing by the bed looking at you two as his cock finally entered you with a bit of struggle.
You were no longer a virgin and so wasn’t Reo anymore. It all happened while your other best friend was intently watching the two of you. You both moaned as he started to move, it was completely different from the feeling of their fingers, you felt filled, truly. You tried to move your hips to match his, your thighs burning while your brain couldn’t function either.
His feet planted on the bed and pushed into you with even more force, feeling him hit spots you’ve never reached by yourself. Your nails dug into his chest. A smirk plastered on his face. “You can take it, love, don’t disappoint me.” He whispered as his hand wrapped around your throat, moaning at the gesture as he pushed back into you making you almost scream. You looked around for your gentle giant, wanting his lips on yours, to share this moment with you too.
Your half-lidded could only make out his figure going around the bed with something in his hand. Losing sight of him as your eyes shut close at a deep thrust from Reo.
Only when you felt liquid dripping onto you, you understood, with Reo’s hands going to your ass spreading it apart for him as he kept going into you. You whimpered as you felt his finger spreading the lube and entering your hole. “Na-Nagi… I don’t-t think I can-“ You managed to say.
“Shh… dont worry, baby, look at you taking Reo so well for your first time. This will be the same.” He traced a line down your spine, making you shiver, your legs tremble as you then watched him spread lube on his own cock.
Reo stopped his movements, edging himself once again as he waited for Nagi as well teasing you all along for your reaction to it. “Thank god that it’s Nagi taking your ass, I wouldn’t be so caring.” And while the semi- warning sent goosebumps on your skin, making you gasp against his lips, you felt yourself clench around him, after all, this whole encounter was of you being used by them. He grinned at the feeling of the walls tightening around him, hissing. “Fuck, you’re a slut… our little slut.” He said, kissing you, relaxing you as Nagi made his way into you.
He groaned as the mere tip passed the ring of muscles, you felt burning, whimpering against Reo’s lips, pulling away from them to moan and grab one of Nagi’s hands in your own. He pushed more and more till he was getting his way into you, grunting loudly. “So fucking tight, shit, princess, it’s so tight.” Your heart flattered at the pet name. Pecking your shoulder, giving you time to adjust before both of them started again.
You were a moaning mess, tears coming down your eyes at the weird feeling in you, between pain and pleasure, over fulfillment and the knot that you felt in your stomach. All your limbs were intertwined, your hips going against their thrusts automatically. You could only imagine if someone walked in on you right now, being rammed by the two guys you always had the hots for secretly.
“Oh god-“ You choked on your words. “It feels so good.” You managed.
“You’re taking it so well, princess. So gorgeous.”
“Perfect slut for us, ours alone.”
They emanated opposite sides of each other. Reo was not so respectful anymore, was not treating you gently, he was degrading you. Nagi who was often crude and more inclined to inappropriate jokes was so caring and praised so much. Both were fulfilling your desires, rough and gentle.
“I- I- I’m going to- ah!” You screamed as you felt your orgasm going through. You could hear them groan as your insides clenched and trapped them, almost milking them out. When you relaxed a little they kept going, going for their own release.
Planting his feet again, holding onto your thighs, Reo thrusted mercilessly as much as Nagi did as he grabbed your shoulders from behind and guided your whole body against his.
Your body didn’t feel like yours for a moment, completely bent at their wills and needs. And you could only welcomed it, your body reacting to your oversensitivity from the previous orgasm as they both finally released deep in you and you did too. Trembling in their hands. As the three of you panted for oxygen, their hips still spasming as their ropes of cum continued to fill you.
“So good, you were so good, baby.” Nagi whispered into your ear as he leaned down and finally stood up.
“Took it so well for your first time.” Reo chuckled, kissing the crown of your head, his arm going over your waist, hugging you to him. His personality completely changing post orgasm. He had to be cocky, as if this wasn't his first as well.
Nagi came back with his phone in hand, Reo grinning as he slowly raised you up to let his cock out as he recorded your rear and cunt as they started to push out their cum. “That’s a sight to remember.” Nagi said under his breath.
“Send it to me, that’s material to jerk off in away games.” Reo said, patting your lower back. You blushed, nuzzling into his chest. “Done” Nagi said and not even seconds later his phone rang out loud.
“You shouldn’t do that without asking me first.” You complained, tracing the lines of Reo’s muscles. Nagi, then, leaned near you, trapping your lips in a kiss. “Can we keep it?” He asked pecking your lips once more and caressing your cheek ever so gently.
“Fine.” You nodded and chuckled at the silly grins they got.
He resumed the kiss and soon after you were being carried in the bathroom, Nagi’s cock thrusting into your swollen pussy from behind as Reo had your hair in a tight fist bouncing it up and down his length as the hot water rained upon the three of you.
Nothing was truly established that night, you were just being fucked throughly, used as nothing more than a cumdump for them, sometimes they both did, sometimes just one and the other watched.
Before you completely passed out, the only thing you heard is how now you knew how they wanted to be greeted by you, how this was going to be their celebration or consolation routine, their stress relieving cycle.
How you were theirs.
You honestly weren’t sure if this was just another of your wet dreams, but when you woke up the day after still in Reo’s bed with his t-shirt on, no panties, with your head on Nagi’s bare chest and Reo’s hand gripping your boob from below, you realized that nothing was going to be the same and fortunately for you, in a positive way.
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not my best work. we can get there tho lol. tip! on my master post it’s the ko fi link if you can😓
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iluvapplesxh · 28 days
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⧽⧽Time Slows⧼⧼
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❀ pair: billie eilish x fem!reader
✰ summary: Nothing you did ever seemed to be enough, and you felt helpless, falling down lower with each passing moment without help, but all you needed was Billie. She'll always be there. And she'll help you back up whenever.
✯ warnings: eating disorders, cursing, vomit, bulimia, purging, I beg you, if any of this triggers you do not read, comfort, !ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!
✒ a/n: I love writing requests sm. Also, I recommend listening to this song, sets the mood lol. still kinda feel like I didn't give this request my all but 🤷‍♀️.
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Aren’t you hungry?
Have you eaten yet?
Didn’t you also skip lunch?
Haven’t you eaten already?
Again?
Nothing was ever good enough, you guessed. If you ate, it was too much. If you didn’t, it wasn’t enough. Nothing seemed to satisfy the people around you, or yourself either.  You tried everything, you worked out religiously for weeks, nothing, you did several stupid diets, nothing, you distracted yourself from your boredom, but not long enough to not go out for a snack. Then another one. And even though your chest felt heavier and heavier with each bite, you didn’t stop the routine. Not when the bites became harder to swallow with the tightness of your throat while your eyes burned with tears.
So, this was your last resort. Eating, rushing to the bathroom and making it all come back up.
Deep down, you knew it wasn’t the right way to do this and it will probably do more damage than good, both to your mental and physical health, but it felt too good. The numbers on the scale flying down, seeing your body shrink, feeling a sense of satisfaction when you stood in front of the mirror and the lines of our ribs stared back at you with a manipulative grin, hearing the people around you say those words.
Wow, look at you! You’ve lost so much weight!
Damn, you look so much better like this. No offense.
(...)
Right. No offense but every time you even dared to think about food the thought of losing this newfound satisfaction, the compliments, pushed right back against it and somehow always won. You knew you were a goner when you’d eat, and you wouldn���t even have to try to make yourself gag on your fingers for it to come back up, you just had to be fast enough to run to the bathroom and it came right back up without argument.
And, somehow, you didn’t stop there. Not until the compliments turned into small frowns of concern and worried words.
I don’t think losing weight that fast is healthy.
Hey, you okay? You seem pale.
“Are you okay, baby?”
Your head snapped up from the spot you were staring at, eyes locking with your girlfriend’s worry-filled blue ones and you shot her a confused look. 
“You haven’t touched your food” Billie spoke again, her own hand had stopped mid-air, holding a fork with her food on it. You blinked and looked around the table briefly, seeing the worried gazes of Billie’s family.
Of course, when you had started this addictive ‘habit’ of yours, you didn’t exactly think about what would happen in a public setting. With people who actually cared about you, and had been there to try to soothe you with assuring words when they picked up on your sudden weight loss, which you excused to ‘gym exercises became efficient’ to ease their worry. 
And when Billie excitedly invited you to have dinner with her family for her brother’s birthday party or something, she hadn’t really explained, but the way her eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of having dinner with her loved ones after such tiring long weeks of press and work, you just couldn’t form a proper excuse.
You cleared your throat and glanced down at your still full plate of…something. Then you looked into Billie’s eyes again and sighed before sending her a comforting smile. “Oh, yeah. I guess I got lost in thought, huh.” Chuckling half-heartedly, you straightened up and held your own fork firmer, gathering some of the food on it.
Billie’s eyes burned onto your form, watching with furrowed brows as your hand shook the slightest bit when it grasped at the fork, or how your eyes clouded with something of a fearful look while your eyes watched your own movements. 
Your hand slowly lifted and brought the cutlery up to your lips. You swallowed your saliva harshly before your mouth opened and you placed the metal against your tongue, the food sliding off the fork before you pulled it away. A sudden sick feeling in your stomach almost made you spit it right back out but you swallowed with a hum, smiling at Billie.
Her eyes narrowed in skepticism as she watched you eat and swallow the small amount of food, the paleing skin of your face contracting for a mere second before the smile took over, but Billie caught it and her heart sped up.
She’s been watching you, like a hawk since you started to lose the ‘extra’ weight you thought didn’t make you any more beautiful than anyone else. She knew you had struggles, but didn’t want to push when she didn’t have anything to reason with. She also just didn’t want to believe her own head. She wanted it to not be true, but when you suddenly got up literally not even five minutes later and rushed towards the bathroom, it was the last straw and she quickly bolted after you, face etched with worry and her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she neared the bathroom.
She pulled the door open and when the sounds of gagging and coughs between groans hit her ears, her pulse picked up as well as her steps. The moment she reached the stall with the door wide open and her eyes fell on your hunched over figure, her own face paled and a small gasp left her lips before she hurriedly marched forward, hands gathering the silky strands of your hair and one of them held it in a makeshift ponytail while the other rubbed your back.
When you finally stopped gagging and coughing, her gaze dropped to the toilet bowl and her chest tightened at the sight of the small food you’ve just eaten, drenched with the acids of your obviously empty stomach and she felt herself getting sick before she tore her gaze away and helped you up, catching you when your feet gave you and guiding your body to the sinks.
“Come on, baby. Let's wash your face” She whispered sweetly, letting you lean against the marble sink with one of her arms still around your torso and the hand of the other reaching to open the tap. Her fingers shook as she held her hand under the streaming water before she lifted it up to your face, wiping it gently. She repeated the action but her hand stopped on your cheek when she felt hot tears hit her cold hands. 
Her eyes met your blurry ones and she shushed you tenderly, but her own heart stung in her chest when your head dropped. She shook her head and tilted your head back up with her hand still on your cheek. 
“I’m-...I’m so sorry, Billie. I-...” A choke cut you off and Billie quickly turned the tap off, pulling you into her. Your chin rested on her shoulder as her arms circled your trembling body. She held back her own tears when your waist felt strangely small and a shaky breath left her.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Shh, shh” One of her hands moved up to your head, caressing your hair gently.
It took a while for your sobs to die down, and even when they did, you stayed clinging to Billie while her arms held you tightly. Guilt was all you felt. For eating, for vomiting, for lying to Billie, for not talking to her.
“Can you look at me, please?” Her voice was soft and melodic against your ear and you reluctantly pulled back enough for your eyes to meet and yours welled with tears again at the look in Billie’s. She shook her head and shushed you again, rubbing your sides with her hands. “Talk to me, baby. I need you to tell me what is it you’re feeling” 
You swallowed, feeling your throat dry up when you tried to speak. “I-...” You started, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment before letting go. “I’m tired, Billie.” Your voice cracked mid-through her name and you took a deep breath. “I-...I’m so fucking tired of everything. I-...I want to be perfect, so bad, and I’ve tried and tried but nothing is ever fucking enough” You pulled further away and rubbed your face with your hands. “I’m hungry, then I’m sick and guilty and then I’m crying and I’m exhausted. I don’t want to live like this” You spoke, sadness and desperation laced into your voice like venom. “I just want to be normal and pretty and not hating myself but the more ‘satisfied’ I become from…this, the lower I fall and it feels like I can’t get myself up no matter what” 
Billie listened with a small frown on her face, her throat burning as she felt the need to cry crawl up in it. She didn’t want this for you. She didn’t want you to feel like this. Like you weren’t enough. It was a really big, harsh punch to the gut and she felt like she failed as a girlfriend because how were the signs not obvious? How did she push her worry away for you so easily? 
She reached out again, her soft, now warm hands cradling your face and your breathing calmed. “I know, I know” Billie murmured in a small voice, pulling your body close to hers again. “I’m so fucking sorry for not getting you up when you fell down the first time, baby.” Her own voice cracked this time and your lips parted, ready to speak but she shushed you. “I’m here now, okay? And I’m gonna help you back up. I promise, I’m not going anywhere, love” 
Your eyes brinked with tears again and a lump formed in your throat as you nodded. A small, whispered ‘Thank you’ left your lips in a choked back manner and the feeling of Billie’s forehead leaning against yours made the chaos in your head still for that moment. 
“I love you. So fucking much and I’ll never leave you alone again, you hear me?” 
All you could do was nod again, but that was more than enough for her. You were more than enough for her. And that was all that mattered. You would learn to not care about being enough for anyone else, because the only person who really mattered was here and she was holding you. There was no fucking way she’d ever let you go again.
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✒ a/n: so I do feel like I didn't quite capture the meaning and the seriousness of an ed but I want you to know that if you are going through of any kind I love you and it's going to be okay, even when everything around you tells you otherwise <3
REQUESTS OPEN ♡
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year
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the murder at evergreen university
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a/n: asdfghjkl I have been writing this since january...... wow. it's never taken me that long to write a story before... also I made a quick student bio about the majority of the people in this story, so if you wanna start off by looking at that, then here is the link ♡
summary:  just a slutty murder mystery
warnings: reader x various CEvans characters (Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett, Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Frank Adler, Jake Jensen, Lloyd Hansen), DARK content, noncon, smut, violence, university AU, murder mystery, detective!Ari, family friend!Ari, mma!Curtis (I just couldn't resist), surely extremely inaccurate on all levels (the college stuff, the investigation, everything, but this is just for fun so it's okay. lol I got the frat name from fantasynamegenerators.com hehe), polyamory, kissing, alcohol consumption, crying, drugging, murder, somno, daddy kink, dirty talk, choking, penetrative sex, size kink, vomiting, flashback sequences are written in all cursive
word count: 11.100
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | evergreen university masterlist
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Walking up the steps of the Kappa Zeta Nu building, you pulled your humming ear pods out of your ears and popped them in the jacket pocket where your phone rested. If it hadn’t been for the big Greek letters above and its proximity to the college, the fraternity house could almost fool someone into thinking it was just any other regular suburban home. 
Giving the front door a rhythmic knock, it quickly swung open to reveal a scruffy-looking mathematics major, still groggy from sleep. 
“Morning Frank,” you couldn’t help but notice the spark in his eye that your presence generated. 
“Angel,” your nickname sounded so good on his sleepy lips, making you smile as he gave you a quick glance up and down, “how do you look like that this early in the morning?” 
Walking past him, further into the house, you chuckled, “8:30 is not that early.”
“Um, on a Saturday it is.” 
Thanks to the open floor plan, you quickly caught sight of Jake sitting by the kitchen island, scarfing down a bowl of cereal. 
“Hey!” the blonde smiled, mouth still full of his breakfast, “I’m guessing by the gorgeous look on your face that you made it through last night?”
“Yep,” you exhaled, thinking back on the major cram session you had to power through in order to meet the paper’s deadline. The lengthy assignment for your cognitive psychology class had been so extensive that it probably hadn’t been that smart of you to keep procrastinating it the way that you had, but somehow you got it done, “turned it in just in time.” 
“Atta girl,” the computer whiz reached over the counter to give you a high five, “I knew you could do it!”
“Speaking of yesterday,” yours and Jake’s fingers lingered a moment before parting ways, “how’s our boy doing? Did he make it through last night?”
Appearing behind you, still sweaty and panting from his morning run, Steve answered your question, evidently catching the tail end of the conversation just as he came in through the door, “Curtis is doing just fine,” he leaned against one of the counters, catching his breath, “better than fine actually, he won.” 
“He did?” a bright smile bloomed on your face, “man, I wish I could have been there…” you were usually so strict about being there for important things, such as Curtis’ occasional MMA fights, but because of your procrastinated schoolwork, you hadn’t been able to tag along. “It’s all Lloyd’s fault, you know. He did the whole oh yeah, we can have a little study date, get that paper done, no sweat, and then distracted me, leaving me with all of the work to get through yesterday.”  
“You wanna turn the faucets on down here, give his shower an icy turn as revenge?” Jake suggested, fiddling with his spoon playfully. 
“Nah, I’ll just give him the cold shoulder for a bit,” you settled your forearms against the countertop, unintentionally giving the guys a better view down your top, “he hates it when I ignore him.”
“He sure does,” Jakes drawled, nearly dropping his utensil into the milky bowl as he unabashedly stared down your cleavage. 
Biting your bottom lip a second, you returned to the matter at hand, “is he up yet?”
“Curtis?” Steve clarified, opening the fridge and plucking out a cold bottle of water. 
“Yeah.”
“Nope,” Frank shook his head behind you, “he’s still sleeping.”
Only pushing yourself halfway up, you asked “can I go see him?” slightly taking the others by surprise. 
“When have you even needed permission to go barge into his room?” Frank questioned.
“I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down at the speckled pattern of the counter's surface, “maybe he’s got company or something…”
“Angel,” Steve leaned over the opposite side of the table, craning his neck so that he could catch your timid eyes, “he is not gonna go pick up some random girl just because you miss one of his fights.”
Bowing your head, you opted not to answer, instead just attempted to shake the doubt off you entirely. 
In a bouncy rocking motion, you straitened back up and moved towards the stairs, two of the guys tagging along as they too needed to head upstairs. 
“So,” you glanced over your shoulder at Frank and Steve, “how’s Ransom settling in?”
“The new guy?” Steve spoke, “fine, I think. I don’t know, I don’t speak trust fund kid, so how would I know.”
“I don’t think he’s that bad… Shouldn’t we at least try to include him in our little group? It just seems kinda mean not to since we’re so tight and you all live with him,” reaching the top of the stairs, you heard, from the bathroom directly in front of you, the trickling clues of Lloyd’s luxurious shower, and briefly glanced down at the far end of the hall where the new guy’s closed door was, his vast room mirroring Steve’s at the opposite side, though his was much more secluded from the rest, being closed in by the injection of both the broad staircase and the bathroom before the cluster of rooms came. “Like you said, you don’t know him yet, he might be super sweet and just takes a bit of time to warm up to people.”
“Maybe,” was all Frank cagily, not giving it any more thought. 
Coming to a stop in front of Curtis’ door, you slowly creaked it open, revealing the sleeping display of a bruised buzzcut, still lightly snoring on his back.
“Jesus christ,” you breathed and leaned your shoulder against the doorframe, taking in the beaten form of your friend, “you sure he won?” you asked the men still lingering a second longer, peeking over your shoulder into the room.
“Yeah, you don’t wanna see the other guy,” Frank gave your behind a quick tap before ducking into his own room. 
Turning your head to look at Steve, himself leisurely making his way down towards the room at the end of the hall, “you sure he’s fine?” 
Stopping in his step, he offered you an earnest glance, “he’s fine, Y/n. Go wake him up.”
After shutting the door behind you, you peeled off your jacket and let it drop down onto the desk chair you passed on your way towards the small mattress. Kicking off your shoes, you climbed the twin bed, kneeling beside your resting friend.
“Wake up,” you sang, dipping your smile down low to rouse Curtis. Receiving a less than lively reaction, only getting a soft inhale of breath as an indication that he’d woken, you tried again, swinging one of your legs over his form to straddle his hips, “hey, tough guy,” you felt his palms slide up the curve of your ass and come to rest around your waist, “you alive?”
Just barely fluttering his bruised eyelids open, a bright smile bloomed on his lips, “hi angel,” he sighed contently at your presence, blinking up at your softly illuminated form as the gentle morning light streamed in through his open window, the family of birds living in the tree just outside aiding in the gentle ambience. 
“A little birdy told me that you won last night,” you let your upper body sink down against his, resting your chin on top of your folded palms, right underneath his chin.
“I did,” you saw as the sting of his various injuries woke him up even further, “although I still would have preferred if my good luck charm had been there instead of doing boring homework.” 
“Oh, please don’t make me feel any worse,” you hid your face in his chest, “I already feel like I have too much making up to do.”
“Oh yeah?” he picked your head up for you to see the sly smirk now adorning his face, “what did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know,” you spoke shyly, feeling your cheeks flush as the position the two of you had found yourself in dawned on you, “I just really wanted to have been there,” and you sat back up, wary of where you placed your hands for support on his beaten frame. 
“Ah,” he waved a reassuring hand, “you’ll be at the next one.”
“Oh, I will,” you grinned promisingly, scooting down to the foot of the bed as you watched him sit up, the duvet falling off his body to relieve the rest of the colourful aftermath, “a simple assignment won’t be able to stop me,” your enthusiasm made him smile through the wince he let out as he got up off the mattress.
Tailing after Curtis as he moved out into the hall and made his way down towards the lavatory, you suggested as you followed him into the bathroom, “we should totally do something to celebrate your win! It’s the weekend, we should do something fun!”
Standing by one of the sinks, Lloyd, fresh out of the shower, didn’t take his eyes off his hair in the reflection as you sauntered in. As Curtis grabbed his toothbrush, he leaned down and whispered cheekily in your ear, “I know a way we can celebrate, just the two of us,” flashing you a glance that caused your breath to get caught in your throat. 
Cutting off your flustered giggle, Lloyd spoke, “there’s supposed to be a party tonight down on the other side of campus. Me and a few of the others were talking about going.” 
“Oh, the one Delta Phi is throwing? Nat’s going to that! Said something this morning about meeting the guy she’s been seeing there.”
“What-, guy?” Lloyd finally ripped his eyes away from the mirror, “what happened to that yoga chick?”
“I don’t know, I think she was moving a little bit too fast for Natasha’s speed,” you spoke of your commitment-phobe of a roommate. Saddling up beside the fighter now brushing his teeth, you said, “so, what do you say?” bumping your hip gently against his as you saw him look back at you in the mirror, “it could be fun.”
Pretending to ponder the proposal, Curtis answered, “if you put on a pretty little dress, then I might be convinced to go,” the foaming toothpaste lightly murmuring his flirting.
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“…It’s always the innocent-looking ones you’ve gotta look out for,” Ransom spoke over the loud, bassy music to the moustachioed man next to him on the couch, “and this little charade you’ve all got going on must be a hell of a good time,” he elbowed him suggestively, though didn’t conjure the desired reaction from him, “oh, come on, you can tell me, dude. Just help a brother out with a few details.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Lloyd shrugged with a smirk and took a sip of his beer. 
“What do you mean?”
Huffing out a soft sigh, he answered, “she’s an amazing girl, don’t get me wrong, but she just has a few rules.”
“What, like some bdsm kinda rules?” Ransom’s eyebrows wiggled excitedly. 
“No, man,” he tried not to chuckle at the yearned-for images his inappropriate guess provoked, “back when we met her she-… her heart was fucking broken and there wasn’t a lot of stuff that she wanted to do anymore, that she felt comfortable with, but over time, I guess when she started getting over whomever that fucker was, she began to relax and let us in.”
“So, you’re really saying you haven’t hit that yet?” the prying man furrowed his brows, unmoved by the sob story. 
“None of us have.”
“Then are those stories about you banging her last week just rumours?”
“No, no, well not exactly, we did have fun, trust me,” he chuckled, poking his cheek playfully with his tongue, “but I didn’t exactly bang her.”
“So, let me get this right, you’re all mad for her and she hasn’t given out? To any of you? What, is she still a virgin or something? Waiting for marriage?”
“I don’t think so,” Llyod thought for a moment, “but it kinda wouldn’t surprise me either if she was… I don’t know… it’s kinda complicated, but damn if she isn’t worth it.”
Letting out a low exhale, he shook his head, “I don’t know how you stand it, dude. If she was mine, she wouldn’t be able to walk. Hell, how do you even share someone like her?” 
“Well, I don’t know if she’s mine per se, we all just have fun, you know? Why not share?”
“Hey,” your chipper voice interrupted their lewd convocation as you finally caught sight of them on the dark leather couch in the corner of the party, “there you are,” and immediately grabbed each of their hands in yours, “come on,” you leaned your weight back, ushering them to get up, “we’re doing shots in the kitchen!”
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“Seriously, Barnes? Watch where you’re going!” Ransom exclaimed as the host of the party had rowdily bumped into the rich boy on his way through the narrow kitchen, causing the bright pink shot in his hand to spill all down the front of his white sweater, “this is cashmere, dude!” he yelled after Bucky’s quickly disappearing form, clearly not haven noticed the interaction himself over the deafening music and his drunken haze.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, noticing the huge stain now blooming on the man beside you, “are you okay?” the sharp alcohol still stung in your throat causing your words to come out ragged. 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he stared down at himself, then over his shoulder in contemplation of whether or not he should run after the guy in pursuit of revenge, “this sweater however is not.”
As your eyes washed over the ivory knit, watching it soak up the colourful cocktail, you thought out loud as an idea struck you, “well, maybe…” and acted quickly, grabbing the man’s hand, “come with me,” you yanked him past the rest of your jovial friends and down the hallway towards the small bathroom.
Catching on to where your head was at, Ransom spoke after crossing the threshold, “Y/n, this is very sweet, but I don’t know if it will work.”
“Just shut up and take it off,” you held out your hand, too blind by your inebriated problem-solving instincts to consider any other outcome.
Gazing back at you a moment, he then chuckled and tugged the sweater over his head with one hand, your eyes widening as he placed the item in your waiting palm, it haven apparently been the only layer he had on.
“Thank you,” you breathed, dumbfounded for a second as you stared at his bare chest, briefly admiring his toned form before shaking it off and spinning around to turn on the sink. Holding the stained material against the slowly trickling cold water, you pressed and pinched the spot gently in an effort to not agitate the delicate fibres. “I swear, I’m always the worst at spilling stuff on myself, I’m like a child, plus the fact that I’m a knitter, so not to promise anything, but I’d say you’re in pretty good hands.”
He didn’t say anything, simply settled in beside you, leaning against the edge of the sink as he watched your face contort in adorable concentration. 
“Oh, dammit…” you gave up after a few minutes of gentle scrubbing. Turning the faucet off, you held the sweater up and looked at the, although lighter, still very much visible pink stain, “well at least it’s a little bit better than before,” you tried, flashing the half-naked man an apologetic look, “maybe if I soak it a bit it’ll get better, but-”
“Hey,” Ransom placed his fingers atop yours still clutching the wool, “it’s fine,” he lowered your hands as he leaned in and closed the gap between you two, his alcoholic breath fanning across your flush cheeks as he uttered a quiet, “thank you,” before unexpectedly pressing a greedy kiss against your lips. 
Feeling his grip tug the sweater out of your hands, you instinctively pressed your palms against his chest for support as the whole move had made your intoxicated body lose its balance. His lips were soft, but his kisses were hungry, determinedly letting it build far faster than you were ready for.
You let out a soft giggle of surprise as he suddenly scooped you up and planted you on the edge of the sink, nestling himself in between your parted thighs, your short dress haven ridden up from the movement.
“So, is this why they all call you angel?” he asked as his heated pecks fluttered down your neck, “because you swoop in and save the day?”
“I don’t know if I do that…” you breathed timidly, the reality of what he was doing just catching up to you now. 
“Oh, but you do. You saved mine,” he smirked, “you’re my hero,” you felt the tickle of his fingers as they snuck further up under your dress, “however can I repay you?” 
“I, um,” you giggled nervously, catching his wrists before they could get any further, pressing your lips against his in an effort to soften the blow as you thought of a gentle way to let him down, “I think that kiss by itself was a pretty good thank you,” you hopped down from the sink even though he made no effort in providing you room to do so.
Enclosing his arms around you as you giggly stumbled further towards the still-ajar door, he uttered, pressing the obvious tent in his pants up against your softness, “but why stop there? I can do a lot better than that if you just give me five more minutes,” but the door conveniently swung open a bit more just as two familiar figures passed it.
“Angel!” Jake, completely blind to the man still clawing at you to stay inside the bathroom, hooked an arm around your waist and yanked you along as he and Frank jovially strolled past, “there you are! It’s almost 11 o'clock, please don’t tell me that you’re bailing on Curtis and truly dooming him to lose to us.”
“I think Curtis would lose to you two in beer pong whether I am on his team or not,” you smiled, thankful of their timing, “you guys are the reigning champions after all.”
“Damn right,” Frank roared, excitedly lifting his fist, “J and F! F and J! Ain’t nothing this duo can’t accomplish.”
“Well, not everything,” you giggled, hooking your arms around their forms as they strolled on either side of you, their arms draped over you in return, “for instance, you’re both terrible cooks.”
“Shut up, angel,” Jake said playfully, “we’re unstoppable and you know it,” he stopped you in your tracks and trapped you against the wall, “say it,” he smirked down at you as Frank, not missing a beat, slipped in as well, enclosing you completely, “say that we’re unstoppable.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, you uttered, “you’re unstoppable,” the sudden proximity awakening memories that made your heart flutter. 
“Good girl,” he purred purposely, and a shiver ran down your spine as you recalled just how hot they both sounded cumming for you, a while back, when they had managed to talk you into playing with them both. 
“You guys are so mean,” you said light-heartedly. 
“Yeah,” Frank scrunched his nose through his warm smile, “but you like it.”
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Twirling you around the dancefloor, Lloyd had been the only one in the mood to satisfy your surge of energy when you came pouting, begging the boys to dance with you. Holding you close, his hands roamed as you rocked to the music, causing you to close your eyes and drift away.
“Hey,” a different hand suddenly tapped you on the shoulder and tore you out of your dream, “I need to talk to you a sec.” 
Eyes fluttering open to look back at your redheaded roommate, you gave her a quick, “okay,” before raising yourself up onto your toes to speak into your dance partner’s ear, “hey, I’ll be right back!”
“Okay,” he shouted back over the loud music, “I’ll just go grab a drink, you want any?”
“Please,” you reluctantly let go of his hand and yelled after him as you followed your friend through the swarm of partying people, “a beer, thanks!” 
Rounding the corner to settle into a comparatively quieter nook, you tugged your wild hair behind your ears as you looked back at Natasha, “what’s up?”
Biting her lip, she spoke, “you love me, right?”
“Well, obviously, I’m about to get down on one knee and everything,” you joked, “what is it?”
“Can I have the room tonight?” she asked with a small winch, knowing damn well how frequent this request was. 
“Seriously?” your eyebrows shot up, “again?”
“Please?” she folded her hands dramatically in front of her and begged. 
Letting out a soft sigh, you said slowly, “if you buy me that super good chocolate with the blue wrapper that they sell down on the corner, then-”
“Oh my god,” she cut you off and threw her arms around you, “thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“You’re the worst roommate ever, you know that?” you smiled, patting her back. 
“And you are the best, a true saint! Me and my sex life pray at your altar.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled, playfully pushing her away, “go on then, get laid.”
Returning to find that Lloyd had settled in with the rest of the guys, taking up all of the clustered couches, you put on your best miserable expression as he handed you your beer, “guys,” you dramatically caught their attention, “I have some really devastating news to tell you…” faking the need to suck in a self-soothing breath before uttering, “tonight, on this very night, I am homeless!”
“Oh no!” they played along, giggling as you pressed the back of your hand up against your forehead. 
“I know! Whatever am I to do? If only some big, strong, handsome boys would let me crash at their frat…”
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Clutching onto Curtis’ broad shoulders as he gave you a piggyback ride back to the frat, you all laughed at Jake and Frank’s terrible, lewd rendition of the school’s fight song. If Lloyd had been here, if his stamina hadn’t forced him to stay out and enjoy the night a little longer, he would have probably not only joined in, but led the tune, waking up everyone in the dorms you passed. 
“So,” Ransom smirked as you all tumbled in through the destinated front door, “who will have the pleasure of bunking with you tonight?”
“I, uh,” you giggled as Curtis sat you down, your shoes clutched in your hand, “I don’t know…”
“You can sleep in my room if you want,” Steve offered generously, “I’ll just sleep down here on the couch.”
“Really? Are you sure? Because I can just sleep down here on the couch, it’s fine.”
“No, no,” he waved a hand reassuringly, “you’ve had way more to drink tonight than I have, so you should really take the room closest to the bathroom, just in case.”
Smiling widely, you stumbled over and wrapped your arms around his bulky form, “thank you, Steve,” breathing in his scent as you smooshed your face into his t-shirt, “you’re the best.”
“You wanna borrow a shirt to sleep in?” Curtis asked, reaching out a quick arm to steady you as you lost your balance on your way towards the wide staircase.  
“Oh, yeah,” you offered him a fuzzy smile, both the alcohol and the hour causing your eyelids to feel like they weighed a ton, “that would be great.” 
Getting settled into the comparatively more private bedroom located next to the stairs, the bathroom too separating it from the rest of the doors clustered down the narrow hallway, you lazily changed into the t-shirt Curtis soon handed off to you, tugging it over your dress before sliding your party outfit off underneath the grey cotton, keeping yourself somewhat covered purely because you didn’t wanna end the conversation you and the rest of the boys were trying to wrap up.
“Alright, we should probably let the lady sleep,” Steve spoke, watching closely as every time you blinked, your eyes gradually stayed closed just a little longer, nearly falling asleep against Curtis’ broad shoulder.
“No, no,” you protested, inhaling sharply in an effort to wake up more, “I’m just resting my eyes…”
“Right,” Frank chuckled as they all got up from their comfy seat on the mattress, being too tired to fight it, Curtis gently helped you lay down, tugging the duvet over your curled-up form.
“Hey,” Ransom poked his head into the room as the rest began to filter out, “I thought you might like this,” you were surprised to see him have a small glass of water in his hand for you. Not simply placing it on the bedside table by your head, he kneeled down next to you and held it out, “here,” expecting for you to take it, “I swear, chugging a glass of water helps with the hangover,” sliding his free palm under your head to raise it up.
“Thank you,” you smiled wearily as you slowly accepted it and raised it up towards your lips. 
Noticing that you were only taking a small sip, his fingers found the bottom of the glass and pressed it up further, “all of it,” he tilted it for you to down it all, “or else it doesn’t work.” 
Coughing lightly as you lowed the now empty glass, it left an odd taste in your mouth, though you just summed it up to be the handiwork of some of the strong beverages you had consumed during the night working its way up again. 
“Thanks, Ransom,” you groggily patted his cheek, “you’re so sweet.” 
His eyes flickering over your tired face, smooshed against the pillow, he smirked, “goodnight,” got back up and strolled out past Curtis still lingering in the doorway, arms crossed and watching over you like a guard dog. 
“Night,” you quietly called out after him as you saw his frame disappear towards the furthest room down the hallway. Redirecting your attention back to your friend, you hummed, “go to bed, Curt. You gotta still be super sore from last night.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Oh, so you’re just gonna stand there all night, fall asleep on your feet and act as my sleep paralysis demon for the night?” you joked with half-closed eyes. 
A small laugh bubbled out of him as he finally moved, “sleep well, angel,” he uncrossed his arms and reached out for the doorknob to tug it closed. 
“Goodnight, Curtis,” you snuggled further into the pillow as you felt sleep overtake you like a wave crashing the shore, adding absentmindedly under your breath, “love you.”
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“Hmm…” you hazily blinked your heavy lids open, roused by the pinching pressure between your thighs. Looking up at the dimly lit figure, you mumbled fuzzily, “w-what?” unsure if this was real life or a dream as the whole bed spun beneath you and you felt like you were floating. 
“Shh, go back to sleep, angel,” Ransom’s grunt pierced your ears as his palm pressed over the bottom half of your face, silencing any words you might speak, “It’s alright, daddy’s got you,” a shy cry vibrated against his hand as you felt him rock against you, finally noticing fully the unexpected sensation of his thick girth stretching you out, “just be a good girl and lay right there, let me have a little slice of heaven.”
Keeping your exhausted legs spread wide apart, his determined hips acting as a door stop, he moaned quietly, “fuck, it really did do the trick,” he looked down at your dazed form, awake enough to be present for him, but unknowingly sedated enough for you not to fight back, “almost a shame you won’t be able to remember any of this in the morning,” he slid his hand down to squeeze your throat, pinching your rapid pulse and making the world even more blurry, “look at you, fucking out like a perfect little doll. You wanna be doll, huh? My own personal little fucktoy?”
Fighting to keep your eyes open, your whole body rocked at his movements as he frantically picked up his pace, selfishly pounding into you, melting on top of you and pressing your sedated body further into the bed. 
“You know, I barely needed to touch you a second before you soaked my fingers, you clearly want this as much as I do,” he tightened his grip on your throat, “you need this, you need me,” stifled moans flowed from his lips as he unmercifully pounded into you, scratching his own vile itch, “poor you, none of your boyfriends ever touch you properly. That’s just what you need, isn’t it?” he mocked as your fluttering cunt tried to squeeze him out, expelling him from your body, “you just need your tight little pussy to be stretched out? Just need some good dick? Don’t worry, angel,” you vaguely felt his tongue flicker against your slightly numbed skin, “as long as I am here to help, I’ll keep your pussy sore, keep it filled up,” you just managed to catch him growl before you lost the forlorn battle and your body dozed off again. 
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Waking up with a low groan, you quickly sprung up, feeling the contents of your stomach fighting their way out. With no time to entertain the surprising presents of Curtis already curled up at the foot of the mattress, you bolted out of bed and ran out the door, thankful for the close proximity to the bathroom as you soon found yourself kneeling in front of the toilet, regretting every sip you had indulged in as they burned your entire chest on their way out again. 
Feeling as your loose hair suddenly got picked up and gently held back, you heard the warm rumble of Curtis’ voice as he said, “wow, okay, alright,” his large palm found your spine, soothingly caressing it as you hurled your guts out, “it’s alright, angel. Just get it all out.”
“Urgh,” you groaned, clutching the cold porcelain as you spat out the fowl tang, “I am never drinking again,” keeping your head over the bowl till you were sure you had gotten it all out. With a heavy sigh, you slumped back, colliding softly with the mass of your friend. 
“You okay?” he asked, lightly running his hands over your goosebump-ridden form. 
“I think so,” you blinked up into his steely eyes, the reddened look to them flying over your exhausted head, “at least I made it to the bathroom this time,” you tried to joke with a half-hearted smile. 
Letting your body weakly droop down, sighing in relief as you felt the cold tile hug your form, you heard Curtis notice, “no, no, you can’t fall asleep out here,” feeling his fingers already slide beneath your body. 
“But it’s so comfortable,” you let out a small winch as he scooped you up into his arms, your frame draping over his strong limbs, and a dull pain stung your core. “Hey, what date is it?” you suddenly asked, trying to make sense of the uncomfortable tingle.
“I-, uh, why?” he thought, carrying you back into Steve’s room, your eyes noticing the other doors down the dark hallway were all open wide, even though it was the middle of the night. 
“No reason, I just think I might be getting my period or something…”
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“Miss Y/l/n?” a voice called, though you were a million miles away, “Miss Y/l/n?” 
“Huh?” you blinked, shaking your head slightly as you unsteadily glanced up at the figure, “sorry, yes,” you reluctantly let go of your friend’s hand and rose from the seat you had been waiting in. 
“You’re gonna be fine,” Curtis gave your hand one last squeeze, “I’ll wait right here for when you’re done, okay?” 
He and the other guys hadn’t let you out of their sight since the terrifying news had spread like wildfire yesterday morning and rocked the entire campus to its core. 
“Okay,” you nodded weakly, not truly present as you followed the stranger inside. 
Pulling out a chair at the cold table, you sat down and averted your gaze from the walls of the bare conference room provided by the school for the law enforcements to use for their investigation. 
“The detective will be right in, you just sit tight,” the figure spoke before they closed the door behind them, leaving you alone in the makeshift interrogation room. 
You didn’t know how long you were in there, maybe a minute, maybe ten, but soon you heard the door creak open once more and a voice, long forgotten, found your ears, “hello, I’m detective Levinson, I will be conducting this-”
“Ari?” you blinked up at your elder childhood friend in amazement, the nauseating feeling of grief momentarily washing away at his unexpected presence as he sat down opposite to you, “what are you doing here?” your eyes drifted over his informal suit, the jacket missing and the sleeves sloppily rolled up passed his burly forearms, “and when did you stop being a beat cop?” 
“Uh,” he blinked, a solemn expression washing over his stern face, softening it significantly, “around a year ago,” he then sighed deeply and said, “I really hoped there had just been another Y/n Y/l/n here at this school…”
Effectively bringing you back down to earth, “oh, yeah… will this be a problem? Can you not do this if you already know me?”
“No, no, it’s not that. I just-,” his head tilted gently to the side, “this isn’t something I ever wanted you to go through.” 
Sucking in a sharp breath, you nodded shyly, “yeah, well, I am.”
Looking over you a moment, taking in the small changes you had adapted in the years since you had last seen each other, he offered a genuine, “I’m sorry,” and attempted to catch your weary gaze. 
“It’s not your fault,” you glanced down at your hands as your fingers once again began to dig nervously into your skin, leaving angry little half-crescent marks in its wake, “you’re not the one running around murdering students,” you awkwardly attempted to joke.  
Exhaling lowly, he then opened the file in front of him and laid out a small tape recorder in the middle of the table, “are you ready to begin?” 
“Yeah.”
Pressing on one of the side buttons on the recorder, Ari then announced methodically, “can you please state your name for the record?” 
“Y/n Y/l/n.” 
“And for the record, are you speaking to me voluntarily?”
“I am.”
Glancing over the open folder sprawled out in front of him, he asked, “what was your relationship with the victim?” 
“Ransom, he-, um… he was a friend. I honestly didn’t really know him for too long, but he lived with some of my best friends, so it just seemed pretty natural for him to also become a part of our little group, if you’d call it that.” 
“And you last saw Mr Drysdale when?” 
“At the party Saturday night. I crashed at their flat after that, so it was probably early Sunday morning that I saw him last, when he was on his way to bed, I think.” 
“Did anything happen to him that night? Anything unusual? His behaviour? Someone he interacted with? Anything you can think of that stands out?” 
“Uhm,” you thought back, remembering the heated kiss you had shared in the bathroom, though looking back into Ari’s studying eyes, you couldn’t help but lie and say, “no, I don’t think so. It was just a party, you know,” the thought of telling your childhood crush that you drunkenly made out with a guy sent your stomach turning, crushing the truth before it could crawl out. 
“Alright,” he nodded, “well, if you do remember anything, please reach out, we’re running the bulk of the investigation from here, so you know where I’ll be.”
“Still have your number,” you forced an awkward laugh.
“Right,” he sucked in a breath and averted his piercing gaze, “so, uhm, I don’t think I have anything else to ask you right now. Thank you for your cooperation with the investigation.”
“Of course,” you watched as his fingers wrap around the tape recorder, clicking the protruding button and making it stop, “it-, um,” you felt a shiver run down your spine as his eyes fell upon you once more, making the polite words seem that much harder to muster, “it really is good to see you again. Nice to see that you’re doing good,” then added jokingly, “that your mom still hasn’t talked you into cutting your hair,” a sincere smile tickled your lips at the mention of the warm woman living next door to your own parents. 
Even though it was clearly forced, your words still conjured a genuine reaction from the guy who used to babysit you, “yeah, no, you know she’s never winning that battle,” he chuckled, shaking his head lightly, “it’s, uh, it’s great to see you as well. You-, um… yeah…” he dropped whatever compliment was on the tip of his tongue and averted his gaze, “I don’t wanna keep you any longer, you can go, you probably have classes to get to.”  
“I actually don’t,” you informed him, though still slowly got up from your seat, “our professors have given us all some time off to-, uh, you know…”
“Yeah…” he nodded understandingly, his vision following your form as you made your way towards the door. 
Pausing just before your fingertips grazed the doorknob, you looked back, timidly chewing on your bottom lip, “hey, Ari?” 
“Yes?” he responded quickly, clearly still completely captivated. 
Finding it difficult to even breathe properly in his presence, especially when those soulful eyes were locked upon yours, you found that your words crumbled before they even got to see the light of day, “I-, um…” then hastily scrambled your brain for a makeshift, “good luck.”
Breathing out a soft smile as he watched you nervously fiddle with the door handle, he said, “thanks, Y/n.” 
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It had been Monday morning that a garbage man had found Ransom’s body in a dumpster on the far side of campus. Even though they had tried to contain the news, it still spread like a wildfire, and come lunch that day, it was the only thing any student could talk about. 
The frat quickly got sealed off as an active crime scene as it had been the last place witnesses had seen him alive, forcing the rest of the guys to temporarily bunk up with friends in their dorms. You felt a bit ashamed about the immense relief you felt at that small detail, the comfort of having each one of them fight over who got to stay with you being something you welcomed with open arms. In the end, it was both Curtis and Steve who stayed with you, Natasha giving you the room and staying with her newfound beau in the meantime, giving you the entire space for a while.  
The guys had always been protective of you, but it almost seemed to have grown over the past few gloomy days. Not a second passed by where at least one of them wasn’t at your side, holding you as you cried, walking with you through the crowded campus or just keeping you company, making sure you weren’t alone. You just added it up to be their version of freaking out and buying into the whole conspiracy that it hadn’t been a drug deal gone wrong as so many had assumed of the recently deceased playboy with a penchant for illicit substances, but actually someone on campus, a stone-cold killer masking as just the person next to you in your lit class. 
“Why don’t you go ask him?” 
“Me?” your brows furrowed in Lloyd’s direction, “why me? If you wanna know so bad, why don’t you just go ask him yourself?”
Chiming in, Jake tilted his head, “well, you did say you know the guy.” 
Exhaling lowly, you averted your gaze, your crossed arms tightening over your chest, “yeah, you could certainly say that…”
“So just go, bat your eyelashes at him for a bit and figure out how much he knows,” Lloyd tried to persuade you, though even his ever-present cocky charm couldn’t sway you this time.
Previously assuming that the whole conversation had just gone over Curtis’ head, as he had just quickly sat beside you and stared out the window, he suddenly perked up, “we just-…” he struggled to vocalise, “if it really is someone here on campus… just the thought you sitting in class with them or-, fuck, anything, it just-…” like a magnet, your fingers naturally found his own in a comforting squeeze, “angel, we just wanna keep you safe and the thought of someone like that running around terrorising the school-… just please go figure out if he has a suspect yet. See if he has got any leads.”
From the moment you had said goodbye to the familiar detective, shame about not telling him the whole truth had nearly eaten you alive. You had lied to not only a person you had known your whole life, but also a law enforcer. It was insufferable, like a snowball rolling down a hill and growing bigger and bigger with each accumulated snowflake. 
“Fine,” you cracked, the shameful storm inside your body becoming too much to bear, “I’ll do it.”
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“Knock, knock,” you said with a small smile as you pushed the ajar door open completely. 
“Y/n,” Ari’s spine straightened in surprise, his eyes no longer glued to the computer screen before him, “what are you doing here?”
“Thought you might be hungry,” you held up your alibi for coming in the form of a takeout bag, “it’s from this little Indian place downtown,” you shut the door behind you before plopping the crinkly bag down on the table, the warm light from the desk lamp illuminating the brimming containers of curry stacked inside, “you like Indian, right?”
“I-, I do,” he said, still taken aback by the kind gesture, “thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Thought it was the least I could do as a thanks for what you’re doing,” you waved a hand in the direction of the cluttered corkboard on the wall. 
“It’s just my job, you don’t need to thank me,” he said modestly, leaning back in his chair and lending you to spot the silver pen his fingers fiddled with. 
Lowering your gaze to stare at your shoes, you exhaled, “right…”
“So, um,” he filled out the awkward silence, “was there anything else you needed?”
“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes averted, “you’re obviously super busy and here I am just barging in,” your vision finally flickered up to lock with his, already steadfast on you, “I just, uh…” your breaths became more jagged as his sky-like eyes captivated your own, “there was actually something else I wanted to talk to you about, something I wanted to tell you.”
“Alright…” he nodded, listening intently. 
Blowing out a shaky breath, you revealed, “I lied, something did happen that night.”
“Okay,” his brows furrowed, though not as much as you had feared, “what was it?” your anxious brain haven already thought of a million different dramatic punishments he could penalise you with.
“I, uh…” you squeezed your eyes shut nervously, “I kissed him,” your pained voice rushed to force out, “at that party. It was in the bathroom and almost became something else, but, um yeah… we kissed… me and Ransom…” you peaked just one of your eyes open, your tense shoulders nearly pressing against your ears at this point, “I’m really sorry, I just felt like couldn’t tell you something like that, not you. I won’t be arrested for hiding this information, will I?”
“No, no,” Ari quickly rose from his seat, “Y/n, you’re okay,” he stepped closer to you as he attempted to calm your uncalled-for panic, “you won’t be arrested.”
“Oh,” you breathed, “good,” feeling your shoulders begin to drop back down again, “you know how my mind tends to freak out.”
“Yeah,” he nodded softly, “I do…” his words genuine as memories conjured the whisper of a smile to appear upon his lips, “thank you for telling me.”
Awkwardly, you flashed him a tight-lipped smile, grateful that uncomfortable moment had passed, you recalled the other reason for why you had come, “so…”
“So…” he echoed.
“Do you have any leads, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“That’s classified information, you know I can’t tell you that.”
“I know…” you averted your gaze and scrabbled your brain for what you could do or say to get him to tell you, “it’s just, I’m so scared all the time. The school was always a place that made me feel safe, till now…” although your intentions behind those words weren’t completely truthful, the statement wasn’t that far off, “it was just worth a try asking you.”
Holding your gaze, you could almost see his heartstrings get tugged as his brows quivered in compassion, “I-… I do have something. If you didn’t know, we just finished sweeping the victim’s living quarters, so if they haven’t already been notified, your friends should be able to move back in by tomorrow, but we also found something, not there, but in proximity to the dump site, there was a knife with traces of the victim’s blood on it. It’s in the lab right now as we speak, trying to decipher if there are any identifiable prints on it.” 
“Oh my god…” you felt goosebumps sting at every inch of your skin. 
“You haven’t heard any details about what state his body was found in, have you?” 
“No…” both from avoiding the papers and keeping to your dorm, you might be the only student on campus not aware of how your late friend had died, “he was stabbed?”
“That was decisively what killed him, yeah, but he was brutally beaten before that.”
“Holy shit, that’s-…” you shuttered, your eyes just now noticing the nauseating photos pinned on the board beside you, “fuck… I don’t know how you do this all day, deal with these kinds of things.” 
“It gets easier over time,” he shared, his worried eyes scanning your face a moment before apprehensively uttering, “this might be a really stupid question, but how are you holding up?”
“I-…” you toyed with the thought of lying to him yet again, but then opted to share the truth, “I am not doing so good, to be honest. I could probably count the number of hours I’ve slept in the last few days on one hand, or so I’ve been told. I don’t think it feels like I’ve slept at all, but apparently I have, just a little bit.”
Sucking in a pained breath, he murmured, “I’m sorry. I can help find someone you can talk to, if you want.”
“No, it’s alright,” his kind offer made it easier for you to look away from the horror plastered all over the office walls, “I mean, I’m not alone, that fact has become crystal clear throughout all of this.”
“Yeah, I kinda pieced that together,” he spoke in a much different manner than before, causing your brows to crinkle, “I conducted all the other interviews. It’s nice that you’ve made friends, making the most out of your college experience,” he said in a tone, almost reminiscent of jealousy.  
Averting your eyes, memories you so desperately tried to keep at bay pried their way in and snuffed out the fuming flicker his resentment had ignited, “hey Ari?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you know?” you asked wearily. 
“Know what?”
“Did you know all of those years, growing up together?” you lifted your vision once more as he offered you a questioning hum, “did you know that I was in love with you?”
Taken aback, it took a bit before he managed to answer, “no, I didn’t.”
“Why didn’t you ever call me? You just left.” 
“I was getting married, Y/n. What was I supposed to do?” 
“Not fuck the girl you used to babysit,” you shot back coldly, “what even was I to you?”
“I-… I don’t know,” his frustrated words came out breathy, “do you think I planned for any of that to have happened? To sleep with you of all people? I didn’t. But when I came home that summer and saw you again, saw who you had become, I don’t know, everything just changed, you changed. I fully thought that you’d to still be that same little annoying brat you used to be, but you really weren’t. I didn’t expect it to happen, I didn’t expect you to suddenly do something like that to me, have that kind of power over me!”
“So, you just decided to break my heart instead? I was mad for you, for as long as I could remember. That summer was the happiest I’d ever been and then you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word. Did you even think to imagine what it was like for me to run around that morning looking for you and instead finding an invitation for your wedding? I had to hear from your fucking parents that you had just come home to prepare things before the big day. You hadn’t even mentioned to me once that you were engaged, or even as much as just in a relationship. Was any of it even real to you or was I just your last bit of fun before you got tied down?”
“It was, Y/n,” he insisted sincerely, “it was the realest thing I’ve ever felt.”
“Then why did you go without as much as a goodbye? You know how much that broke me?”
“Yeah, well you seem to be doing just fine now,” he said pettily. 
“Excuse me? You don’t get to say something like that to me. You were the one who broke my heart, you don’t get to judge how I glued it back together. Just go back home to your wife, why don’t you.”
Suddenly looking back at you in confusion, Ari then illuminated carefully, “Y/n, I’m not married.”
“What?” you blinked. 
“I mean, I know you weren’t there that day, but I thought my mom at least had told you,” the gears turning inside of him were nearly visible to the naked eye, “I couldn’t go through with it.”
“What? Why?”
Biting his tongue as he held your eye, he then exhaled, “because I didn’t think I should get married if I was in love with someone else.”
Sucking in a stunned breath, you saw tears cloud your vision, “b-but… you never even called…”
“I know I didn’t,” he concurred heavily, his eyes unable to look away from your glossy ones. Feeling as if you might faint, you saw his woeful vision flicker down towards your lips, “I’m sorry, Y/n.” 
But just as you saw him slowly inch his face closer and closer to yours, a sharp intake of air stung your lungs as you raised a hand up as a barricade, “I can’t…” too scared of history repeating itself, “we can’t…”
Sighing deeply, his eyes traced the tear that rolled down your cheek, “I know…”
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You had just been helping the guys move back into the frat. That was all you had been doing. One moment you were all laughing, actually having a normal and pleasant moment for once, and the next, two officers were barging down the door and reading Lloyd his rights. 
You’d nearly lost it completely and Curtis had to hold you back so that you didn’t go scratch one of the officer’s eyes out. The man in the cuffs however took it with style, only trying to break through your hazy to let you know that he would be fine and for the others to take care of you, after all, this wasn’t his first rodeo down to the station, although those times it had only been for petty crimes like bar room brawls and such. 
“But I mean, how did it even happen?” you thought out loud a while later, the miranda rights still ringing in your ears like a triggering song you just couldn’t get out of your head, “that’s what my mind keeps going back to,” you had finally calmed down after what felt like forever of the guys talking out of marching down to the station to do something, anything to get Lloyd out. Completely powerless, you sat curled up at the end of the couch as words flowed from your exhausted lips, “how could someone like him be killed? He was such a nice guy.” 
Not being able to stand it any longer, Curtis pipped up from the armchair on the other side of the living room, “no, he really wasn’t,” your bolstering words about the deceased being too much for him to take without cracking, “he was a rich creep and everyone knew it,” frustratingly, he gesticulated, “with everything that he did to you, how can you just sit there and say that he was a nice person? The guy drugged you and violated you in your sleep for fuck sake!” 
The room went dead quiet as soon as those words left his lips. 
“…what are you talking about?” your voice no higher than a whisper as you watched your burly friend shrink in regret. “Curtis,” you repeated more sternly this time as he didn’t offer an explanation, “what do you mean? What did you do?” your voice broke as thoughts about if Lloyd’s arrest hadn’t been a misunderstanding after all entered your mind. 
“You can’t tell her,” Frank shot a glare at the fighter, “we had a deal.” 
“Yeah, well that was before Lloyd got fucking arrested!” Jake chimed in, panic shining clear through in his tone, “she’s a part of this, has been since the very beginning. She has a right to know.” 
Finding your wide eyes in the crowd, Curtis asked you wearily, “you really wanna know what happened that night?” hugging your knees tighter to your chest, you gave him a small nod in confirmation, “fine, I’ll tell you.”
“Is she okay?” Curtis pushed the ajar door open further to ask, haven, on his way to the bathroom,  caught sight of an out of breath Ransom tugging the covers back over your passed out form. 
The head of the cashmere-clad man snapped up at the sign of company, the sudden alarm that began to bloom on his features was quickly drowned out by his usual arrogant air, “yeah, man,” he shot back defensively, rushing to get out of the room, “she’s fine,” sounding like it had been a completely crazy question to ask. 
Furrowed brow staying put, Curtis uttered slowly, “alright, but I think I’m just gonna check myself, if you don’t mind.”
“I said she’s fine!” Ransom slammed the door shut behind him, prohibiting the man now only inches from him from entering, “just go back to your own room!”
Worry and suspicion only growing at the obvious fibs, Curtis demanded, “what were you doing in there? What did you do?”
“What are you talking about?” he scoffed back. 
“What did you do to her?” Curtis took a looming step closer just as their raised voices began to stir some of the other slumbering residents.
“I didn’t do a thing,” he cockily dared a chuckle, “calm down.”
“I will not fucking calm down,” Curtis barked back before attempting to call to you through the closed door, “angel, you okay?”
Leaning against the wall beside his own room, Jake rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he groaned, “guys, can you not yell in the middle of the night? Some of us are kinda trying to sleep here.”
Frank, as well haven appeared, seemed a little more alert at the sudden commotion in the hallway, “hey, what’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on,” their suspicious friend waved a hand, “Curtis is just being a little bitch and freaking out for no reason,” the ostentatious gesture granted the opposing man an opportunity to slip past and enter the room.
Nearly kicking the door down, Curtis rushed to your side, examining your unconscious form with worried eyes, “angel?” the dim lights streaming in from the hallway just barely letting him notice how wrinkled and haphazard the t-shirt he’d lent you just a few hours before was on you. 
“Jesus, just let her sleep, dude.”
Ignoring Ransom’s words of warning, Curtis tried once more, “Y/n?” touching your skin lightly before giving you a gentle shake, “come on, wake up for me, baby,” his heart nearly beat out of his chest as he unsuccessfully tried to stir you, the shallow rise and fall of your abdomen not granting him as much comfort as it should have. 
Nearing the end of the hall, Frank asked once more, “what’s going on?” side-eyeing Ransom warily, “is she okay?”
“Of course she’s okay,” the trust fund kid scoffed.
“The fuck she is,” Curtis’ head whipped back in the direction of Ransom’s silhouette in the doorway. Getting back up on his feet, his sharp intakes of air causing his shoulders to rise, he stormed back out and demanded, “what did you do? Why were you in here and why the fuck is she not waking up?”
“Did you not see how much she had to drink tonight?” Ransom defensively gestured to your passed-out form on the narrow bed, “I was just checking up on her,” and with a heavy sigh abandoned the argument entirely and descended the stairs. 
Catching Curtis’ arm just in time to stop him from storming down after the man at the centre of the quarrel, Frank tried to catch the darting eyes of his friend as he asked firmly, “Curtis, what’s going on?”
“I saw him in there, hovering above her like a creep.”
Already worried eyes suddenly growing in alarm, “he was in there?” Frank quickly shared a panicked look with Jake, both now sharing the same inkling of what horrible thing had occurred, “alone with her?”
“Yes.”
“Wait,” Frank gasped, “did you say she’s not waking up? She is still breathing though, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, she’s just out cold. Why?”
“Oh my god…” Jake shuttered, his interrupted slumber now long forgotten.
“What? What is it? What aren’t you guys telling me?”
Exhaling lowly, Frank carefully began to explain, “Curtis, you know that my sister goes to Bayshore, right?”
“Um, sure, yeah?” unsure as to why that fact was significant.
“Well, she told me about this student who overdosed after being drugged and raped. The guy was apparently caught and everything but just came from a wealthy enough family to not only never be convicted, but also keep the news out of the papers. Curtis, that’s where Ransom transferred from.”
Seeing nothing but red, Curtis stormed down the stairs. On his determined path to the kitchen where the object for his bubbling rage now stood, leisurely sipping from a glass of water. Curtis narrowly caught sight of Lloyd as he finally stumbled through the entrance from his drawn-out merriment, uttering a hushed apology to the bulky frame of Steve on the couch for the way he had carelessly slammed the front door shut behind him.
Only rolling his eyes at the sight of Curtis, Ransom didn’t even lower his glass as the fuming figure neared, “dude, I already told you, I didn’t do a thing-” though the rest of his provoking words got squashed as Curtis’ fist suddenly collided with his jaw, swiftly grabbing onto his soft sweater before he could crumble like the shattered glass now scattered across the cool tile, “what the fuck!”  water splashing onto both of their feet. 
“What did you give her?” Curtis barked, his fingers digging into the intricate, stained knit so hard that they threatened to poke through to the other side. 
“Give who what?” appalled glare piercing as he fought against the hold. 
“Y/n!” he shook him heatedly, “what did you give her?”
“I didn’t give her shit, man,” Ransom just managed to spit out before white knuckles collided with his face once more. 
“Did you touch her? Because I swear to fuck, if you laid even as much as one finger on her, I’m gonna-”
“Oh, I see,” he actually dared to chuckle, a bit of crimson already staining the pearly whites he flashed, “you’re jealous that you didn’t get with her tonight.”
Landing another raging blow, Curtis yanked him in close and growled, “you shut up and answer my question! Did you touch her?”
Scoffing through his laboured groans of agony, Ransom finally disclosed smugly, “of course, I did, man. She’s been all over me all night long, begging for me to give it to her good.”
The rest of the frat haven now clustered in the kitchen as well, staying in the periphery, Frank accused, “what did you give her? Was it the same as the girl you killed back at Bayshore?”
The deep-pocketed man’s eyes flickered over Curtis’ shoulder, bruises blooming and swelling up his vision, “excuse me?” 
“The rape victim that overdosed at your old school?” the bridge of Frank’s nose twitched in fury, “it was you that killed her, wasn’t it?”
“I didn’t do anything of the sort, all I did was show those girls a good time, it’s not my fault some can’t keep up.”
“Is that what you think happened tonight?” Curtis hauled him against the fridge, gaining the man’s attention once more, “you call assaulting Y/n a good fucking time?”
Keeping his head held high, Ransom slurred, “what are you ashamed you’re not man enough to rough your girl up a bit and give her what she really likes?”
Huffing like a bull, he uttered, “she does not like it like that.”
“Oh yeah? Then tell me why I had her moaning the way I did, dripping down on ol’ Steve’s bed like a cheap whore. Kind of a shame that she won’t remember any of it in the morning, just hope I fucked her good enough that at least some part of her won’t forget…”
“Oh my god…” you shuttered, unable to look any of them in the eye, “oh my god,” your palm shot up to clasp over your lips to choke the shaky cry that forced its way out, “I thought-…” vision darting everywhere and nowhere at the same time, “I thought it had been a dream,” tears streamed down your ghostly face as the hazy nightmare suddenly came into focus, “oh my god! I-… I knew him,” you jaggedly tried to piece it all together as vile stung in the back of your throat, “he was-, he was my friend. I hadn’t known him that long, but he was my friend. I-… he wasn’t just some dangerous stranger in the back of an ally threatening to kill me, he was my friend.”
The incoherent screams of Curtis slowly subsisted as his rampant blows finally slowed down. Slowly backing up, chest heaving, horror took over his eyes as he saw how far he had been pushed, watching as blood bubbled out of Ransom’s mouth, guggling his words.
“Just you fucking wait till my family finds out,” he weakly continued his threats from his wrecked position on the tiled floor, “do you have any idea how much power money gives you? I can squash you all like little bugs, ruin any chance you might have of a pathetic future and keep angel all to myself.”
Unable to look away, Steve suddenly uttered as Curtis shakily retreated into the shadows, “…guys, we have to call an ambulance.”
Whipping his head around, Jake protested, “no, don’t!” ready to swat away any phone that might be raised, “he’s right. He has the upper hand no matter if we get him to a hospital or not.”
“So, what do we do? Look at him,” Steve woefully gestured to the beaten playboy crumbled on the floor, “he’s dying. We can’t just leave him here!”
“No…” Lloyd sighed, his demeanour seeming surprisingly calm and level-headed under the circumstance, “but we can use what little time we have left before the sun comes up to our advantage…” 
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Frank’s brows furrowed frightfully. 
In a wide arc around Ransom’s broken form, Lloyd made his way over to one of the kitchen counters and pulled open a drawer, “he said it himself,” he exhaled lowly as he accepted his fate, “he is more than capable of making not only angel’s life hell, but also all of ours,” his tone cold, he riffled through the utensils, “from where I’m standing, there’s only one way for us to get out of this with minimal casualties,” and fished out a knife, the steel reflecting in the low light seeping in through the other room. 
“You can’t be fucking serious,” Steve gasped, “we’re not murdering him!” 
“So you’d rather try and explain his corpse just lying here in our kitchen? This way we get the upper hand, we speed up the process and use the remainder of the night to our advantage till the rest of campus wakes up, hide him somewhere else, somewhere he won’t be found,” Lloyd stressed, “we have to kill him, it’s the only way.” 
“Shit dude…” Frank breathed, he and the rest realizing that he was right, “where would we even hide him?”
After only pondering it a second, Jake pipped up, “it’s trash day tomorrow,” tensely sharing glances with the rest, “if we get him to one of the big dumpsters on the other side of campus, drop him in there, no one will know! And even if they do eventually discover parts of him out on some dump, they won’t be able to get anything off of him anyways at that point.” 
“I-…” Curtis’ shaky voice finally filled the room, guilt seeping through in his brassy timbre as he asked what no one else would, “…who’s gonna do it?” 
Not letting the others even consider that weight, Lloyd swiftly declared, “I’ll do it.”
“What?” the trembling fighter’s eyes finally lifted.
“If they actually do somehow manage to nail us for this, it should be me that goes down for it,” he stated deliberately, “always knew I’d go to prison at some point just like my old man, this way it wouldn’t be for anything stupid.” 
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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Hunter's Delight
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, violence, blood, coercion, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: A peaceful getaway turns to horror when you encounter a strange man in the woods.
Character: Kraven the Hunter
Note: So, this isn't what I was planning as my birthday fic but my other fic was just not happening lol.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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The smell of cedar tinges the air. Birds wing across the pale blue sky and critters rustle in the twigs and leaves that trim the forest floor. Shadows nestle between the trunks and lend an ominous hue to any otherwise harmonious landscape.
It’s a long needed escape from urban crush. The fatigue of your nine to five recedes as your brief getaway frees you of the unseen cuffs of modern survival. There are no emails, no memos, or stuffy meetings. There is only you and naked outdoors.
Oh, and your friends.
You never traveled much. Most of the time you had off, you were too tired to do much more than the bare minimum. You hadn’t even thought of it until Larissa invited you. It just never occurred to you to spend the money or the energy. Now you’re more than happy you did.
You follow the snakish path that dips between valleys and over hills, up steep walkways and across sprawling plateaus. The lush green is endless, littered with patches of thick forest, and the occasion running river crested by an old wooden bridge. 
Larissa chatters loudly about your eventual return to the cottage. She dreams of kebabs cooked over the campfire and some fruity sangria. You trail the others, four of you in all. Jodi and Cameron ahead of you as your host leads the way. Work friends, but you suppose more now that you’re here.
The river water sends up a fresh scent from behind the looming trunks and you glance over at the gleaming ripples, almost twinkling as you admire them between the trees. You could do this every day. Just wander until you can’t move anymore.
“I can’t believe this is your first time up north,” Jodi says, drawing you from your mind.
“Uh, yeah, never did much exploring I guess,” you shrug.
“Even as a kid?”
“Nope. I think we had one family trip and we didn’t even make it to the amusement park,” you chuckle dryly, “ah well.”
“Ugh, I remember one time, when we were camping, my brother, Toby,” Cameron begins, “he put a frog in my bag. I screamed so loud. My mother didn’t even believe me.”
“Damn,” you remark. Cam tends to do that. Everything in some way relates back to one of her stories.
“Oh, I have an idea,” Larissa stops and faces you, “we have to decide who’s cooking.”
“It’s fine, I said I would–” You begin.
“Boo, that’s no fun,” she snips, “we used to play this game when I was a kid. I always won. Whoever collects the least acorns in ten minutes cooks.”
“Acorns?” You look around nervously. “Where?”
“You shouldn’t get lost. If you go too far, just stay still and we’ll find you,” she brushes off your concern, “it’ll be fun. And I know all the best spots!”
“That’s no fair,” Jodie pouts.
“How about I start after you. I’ll only do five minutes,” she barters.
“How do we know time’s up?” Cam picks a fingernail.
“Like I said, if you don’t show up, we’ll come find you.”
“I guess…”
“Alright, how about, whoever collects the most gets princess treatment for the night. The rest of us will have to serve you drinks and get you whatever you want,” she offers with a smug grin.
You bite your lip but don’t argue. It’s obvious she’s going to win but you wouldn’t mind the chance to explore a bit more. Besides, you never complain about time alone. It’s so peaceful here, that might just be a reward of its own.
“Come on!” Larissa claps, “bragging rights are included.”
“Fine,” Cameron sighs, “I guess it’s not completely stupid.” 
“It’ll be fun just to wipe that look off your face, Lar,” Jodi snorts.
You shrug and give a nod. You have little faith in your foraging skills but you don’t mind running to the cooler a few extra times that night. Besides, the cottage did get a bit suffocating with all of you there. This might be your only chance for alone time.
“Alright, on three,” Larissa declares, “one, two–” Jodi sprints off and Larissa holler, “I didn’t say three!”
Cameron runs after her and Larissa scowls. She puts her hands on her hips and drags her foot over the grass. You give a sheepish smile and awkwardly sway.
“Guess they won’t know if I start early,” she says and sets off in the opposite direction.
You slowly putter away as you head for the river. You have no intent of gathering acorns, you just want to watch the water. You weave between the trees and come out to the shore along the winding river. You watch the lazy flow and the little minnows flitting beneath the clear ripples.
You get closer and sit on your knees in the dirt. You drag your hands through the water and push your fingers into the silt. You bend slightly and look at your reflection. You're almost hypnotised by the ambiance. 
You close your eyes and pull your hands from the water. You place them on your shorts and take a deep breath. You want to hold onto this moment, to remember it once you're stuck back behind a keyboard.
You smile and your lashes flutter open. You see your reflection again, then it suddenly darkens as a shadow comes up behind you. At first, you’re confused, but you assume it’s one of the girls trying to scare you.
“Very funny–”
You fly forward into the water, arms flailing out as you splash into the shallow depth. Your head is pushed down to the riverbed as a foot crush your skull. You cough and gag, gulping down water as your breath bubbles out of your nose. Your head begins to thrum as you choke until at last, the weight relents and you rip your head from beneath the surface.
A sharp boot cracks into your ribs and sends you onto your back. You heave as you land flat, keeping your head just above the water. A man stands above you, crystal blue eyes boring into you as a growl creases in his forehead. He squats and grabs your chin, unsheathing a large knife from his belt.
“Scream and I’ll cut your throat out,” he warns as he pokes the knife tip along your lip, hushing you as he turns it slowly.
You shut your mouth, eyes rounding in terror as you watch him. Who is he? What does he want? You can’t let him know about the other girls. At least, you hope he doesn’t already.
“Listen to me,” he traces along your jaw and down to your throat, “you will do exactly as I say.”
You blink, saying nothing. His voice is gristly and unbending. His dark hair curls behind his head and he wears a thick beard that thins to coarse stubble. Around his neck is a thick cord with a single fang hanging from it.
Your eyes nearly cross as you try to see the knife in his hand..
“Gold locket. Pearl set in the middle. Bring it to me.”
You stare at him searchingly. It’s like he’s speaking another language. Or your brain just won’t hear them as fear courses through your veins. 
“She wears it around her neck.”
You see the golden chain around Larissa’s neck. You noticed it once or twice, never really thinking much of it. You just thought it must be sentimental. Your lip trembles as the man clutches the back of your neck and leans into the blade.
“Why?”
He chuckles, “you want to live. I can feel it. So no more questions and I might let you. The locket, midnight. I will wait here. If you do not come, I will come to you. And you can weep with their heads in your bed.”
You gulp as he smirks at you. You nod slowly as he loosens his grip. He releases you. You almost sink back under the water as he stands and you push yourself up. He swirls the thick knife then holds it up to reflect the sunlight.
“Such a beautiful day, it would be a pity if it were to end in blood.”
“I will bring you the locket. I promise.”
“I know you will,” he says as he struts towards the trees, “it is why I chose you.”
You sit dumbfounded, staring after him until you can see nothing but the trees. You shiver as the water stirs calmly around you, soaking you through to the point of discomfort. You climb out of the river and wrings out the fabric of your shirt.
As you look around at the serenity of the pastoral bliss, you can’t fathom that the man had ever truly been there. The tenderness in your neck assures you otherwise. He was and he will be back.
☀️
“What happened to you?” Cameron giggles as you appear from the trees. 
“No acorns, huh?” Jodi boasts.
“I uh… dropped them in the river. Tripped,” you lie. You’re too stunned to explain further.
“You okay?” Larissa asks.
“Yep, fine,” you utter.
“Well, Jodi got eleven and Cameron got eight, and I… got twelve.”
“Cheater,” Jodi mutters under her breath.
You’re thankful they’re too distracted by their child’s game to be very concerned. You throw up your hands. “Looks like I’m cooking,” you resign dully.
“And I get to be pampered,” Larissa trills tauntingly.
“Whatever. You’ll be lucky if I don’t dump the sangria on you,” Cameron warns.
Larissa laughs. The girls might play up their cattiness but it’s just friendly competition. Another thing you never really had growing up. Friends.
They leave the acorns in the grass. You’re quiet as you follow them onwards. You look back just before you’re out of sight of the river. You don’t see the man but you have no doubt he meant what he said. He knew about Larissa and the necklace, that’s enough for you.
🌄
As a gracious loser, and a terrified individual, you volunteer to make a pitcher of sangria for the other girls. They happily accept the offer and go out to get the fire started. The night is quickly setting in as you watch the time on your phone. As there is only one solar charger amongst the bunch of you, your battery stays at fifty percent. Without reception, it isn’t of much use anyhow.
You mix the wine, brandy, lemonade and fruit together with a wooden spoon. You hear Larissa giving orders outside over the crackle of the fire. The locket with the pearl. You know she’s still wearing it, you looked for it and there it was, around her neck. What use is jewelry all the way up here.
Your thoughts are split by the snap of the spring door. Jodi tramps inside and huffs.
“Is the wine ready yet? She’s driving me nuts.”
“I’ll bring it out,” you assure her, “why don’t you grab the kebabs, they’re ready to go.”
You nod to the pan of skewers and she lets out a disappointed grumble. She takes the pan and leaves you again to ponder your impromptu mission. You’re not stupid enough to ask for the locket. You watch the oranges swirl in the wine mixture…
You can’t. Can you? You peek over your shoulder and peek through the window. They wouldn’t notice. You could say you used more wine than you thought.
You turn your back to the window. The girls can survive a few bendaryls, they won’t survive that man and his knife. You can deal with hating yourself. That’s never been hard.
You tiptoe across the kitchen. You don’t know why you think they’ll hear you, your guilt just makes you paranoid. You go down to the room and search in the lower bunk for your bag. You take out your box of emergency benadryl and slide out a full insert. Just enough for an edge, nothing deadly.
You sneak back out and drop the pills one by one into the sangria. You stir and you stir and you stir. Finally, you’re content that your potion is complete. Your curse is pharmaceutical allergy relief with a side of drowsiness. The girls are probably too thirsty to notice you’re not sharing.
🌙
Jodi stumbles back from the outhouse. You watch her cautiously, ready to hop up and catch her. She manages to make her way back to the fire and falls into the folding chair with a burp.
“Damn, that sangria is strong,” Cameron chimes.
“And it’s going right through me,” Jodi slurs into a giggle.
“Me too,” Larissa stands up and puts her hands in front of her shorts, “my turn.”
You listen to her go around the side of the cottage, her sandals scraping and scuffling. Jodi leans her head back and snorts, waking herself and lurching forward. You get up and keep her from falling out of her chair.
“Hey, you should lay down,” you say.
“Lightweight,” Cameron teases and gulps down a mouthful. You try not to cringe.
“Whatever, I’m fine,” Jodi babbles.
“Come on,” you get her up, letting her lean on you heavily.
She’s dragging her feet as you get her across the yard and to the steps of the deck. You haul her up and through the back door. Inside, you feel her slacken on your arm until you're pretty much carrying her. You get her into her bed and roll her onto her stomach, already snoring.
You check the time. It’s late. Just after eleven.
You go back out, the blaze of the fire obscuring your view of the yard.
“Not you too,” Cameron chortles as Larissa falls past the chair trying to sit.
“I think it’s time to call it a night.”
“Bleh, listen to the office administrator, she never gives it up,” Larissa sneers, “isn’t that right?”
“Yeah, I guess,” you agree softly. You want all the abuse she has to offer you. You deserve it.
“You wanted to be princess for the night,” Cameron calls over, “let her carry you to bed.”
You ignore Cameron as you steady Larissa and direct her around the fire. You take the same path with the same end, dumping her in the singular queen she claimed for herself in the main bedroom. You make sure she’s on her stomach and shake out your nerves. 
You flip on the flashlight built into your phone and shine it over her. You apologise before you unclasp the necklace. It’s heavier than you expect. You tuck it in your pocket and leave her.
One more.
Cameron meets you at the door to your surprise. She’s yawning and staggering. You let her pass as she mutters about the fire. You follow her, making sure she gets to her bed before you go outside to kill the fire.
When all is dark and still, you look up at the moon and measure the journey ahead of you. What if you get lost? What if you can’t remember the way back? You think you do. Doesn’t matter. It’s almost half past and you need to get going.
You grip your phone as you come out around the front of the cottage. You remember that you came from the right… didn’t you? You turn on your flashlight again as the darkness consumes you. You tremble at the sheer endlessness of the night.
As you set off, you hear every twig snap, every branch sway, every bat squeaking from some hidden nook. You are exposed to the unseen. Easy prey.
You hear the low trickle of water, louder in the dearth of night. You use it to guide you, flinching as leaves brush against you. You shine the light around you, trying to get a glimpse of your surroundings. It only illuminates the shadows and adds to the depths of the blackness.
A noise rolls in the darkness. Thunderous as it grows louder, footsteps making themselves heard, a beast closing in. His laughter comes from all around you, dizzying you as you spin and try to find him.
At once, he quiets and you hear nothing but the stirring of the breeze. No footsteps, not laughter, only the frantic beat of your heart. You stop and squint as you shakily raise your phone, making out the thick trunk of a tree.
There is a sudden warmth behind you. His hand is on yours, squeezing before he rips away your cell. You hear it land in the grass. His other arm hooks around your middle. His breath seeps through your hair and across your scalp.
“Give it.”
You reach into your pocket, squirming as you dig out the necklace. You hold it up with a whimper and he wraps your hand up in his again. His rough skin sends a shiver through you. He hums above the soft tinkle of the chain.
“Very good,” he keeps you close, “you are an obedient little pet, aren’t you?”
You don’t move, you don’t speak. He has what he wants. Now you want to go.
“I’ve decided,” he says bluntly. You hold your breath, trying to decipher his meaning. You try to pull away and his arm hooks tighter around you. “I will take you too.”
“What?” You quiver and grasp his arm, shoving on it without result, “no, let me go–”
“You can scream for me,” he walks you forward until you collide with a tree, putting your hands out to keep from being crushed against the bark, “the louder, the better.”
Your fingertips curl painfully against the tree. He traps you against the tree as he lets out a grow, the heat of his breath and body enshrines you. You shake and whine as panic sinks into your chest.
“Please, let me go. Please, I did what you asked–”
“I’m not asking,” he snarls and grabs your shoulder.
He spins you so violenly you can’t help but fall back against the tree. The subtle friction of metal on leather cools your blood as a sliver of moonlight gleans off the knife’s edge. You brace the tree as you babble dumbly. You don’t want to die.
He brings the curve tip of the knife to the hem of your shirt and yanks up, shearing open the front so that it falls open, revealing the bralette beneath. He makes as quick work as that, slicing up the middle and exposing you to the night chill.
He stands over you, bearing in on you as he bends slowly. You gasp as he clutches a handful of your hair and pulls your head to the side. He leans in and grazes your throat with his teeth. You writhe, caught in the arrest of his gruff touch.
He bits down, pinching your flesh until you cry out. He snickers and unclenches his teeth, trailing further down, teasing along your collarbone and over the tender flesh of your shoulder, once more nipping into you. He tortures your flesh, sucking it until it throbs.
He goes lower, tracing his path first with the metallic cold of the blade, then piercing with his teeth. He bites into the curve of your tit, he leaves sore marks blazing all around, at last taking a nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirls around your hard bud, toying with it, sucking, flicking, until finally he bites again.
You sob as he sinks his teeth in. You feel the flesh break and the warmth trickles from you into his mouth. He hums as he drinks it in, unlatching to let your rough skin turn fiery in the open air. He tends to the next, just as cruelly, as your body wracks in shock and agony.
How can this be happening? It can’t be real. You don’t understand. Who is this man? Where did he come from? You close your eyes, trying to hide from reality as it nips at your flesh.
You drone as he leaves a trail of spit and blood down your stomach, biting again and again, a tortured trail down to the top of your denim shorts. Your legs shake, threatening to give out.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he tisks and pinches your thigh, “you are weak but you will not give up, pet.”
He cuts along the seams of your shorts, left then right. You tremble with bubbling, teary gulps. The denim falls to your feet and he uses the end of his knife to play with the cotton elastic of your panties. He clicks his tongue but does not voice his amusement further.
He drops to his knees, a hand framing your hip as your legs quake. He squeezes, his thumb jabbing into your pelvis. He drags his knife down the front of your panties and hooks the fabric along the tip. He tugs until they rip, breaking through the fabric, cutting a line along your cunt. 
He turns the flat of the blade against your flesh, grazing the folds before pulling it away. You bat your lashes as terror overflows. Your head lolls as your muscles twitch. You see the man’s faint shadow in the slats of moonlight breaking between the cedar trunks, you hear him lick the blade with a purr.
A silver shine reflects the eerie night glow as he raises his knife. You scream as he aims it toward you, stabbing into the wood just beside you. Your heart hammers to cacophony as he laughs at your fright.
He pushes his hand up your thigh, his calloused fingers mean against your soft skin. He feels along the shorn cotton and dips two fingers into the opening. He delves between your lips, flicking his fingers up and down your cunt. Your legs quiver and you clutch onto the divots in the bark, fighting not to fold into a heap.
He slides his fingers back and forth, feeling every part of you, doting on your clit, only to trail back to your entrance. You suck in air sharply and sob. Please just do it. Just let it be over with.
He pushes into you. Slowly, Deliberately. He leans forward and nuzzles the soft vee of hair along your cunt and sighs into you as he wiggles his fingers deeper and deeper. You groan as he stretches you. Even as your body reacts, even as the slickness welcomes the intrusion, it hurts.
He growls as he meets some resistance. You clench around his knuckles and he rams his fingers into you, to their limit. You shriek and your sandals slip in the dirt. Your nail catches in the veins of the tree and snaps.
The coolness of his tongue frightens you as it pokes out and slides along your lips. He tilts his head and glides between your folds, doting on your clit with furious flutters. You gulp and gasp, panting as a new heat blooms inside of you. Your pulse races with more than adrenaline.
He eases his fingers back then in again. Your cunt clenches around him, constricting as his tongue toys with you, flurries your nerves to an unbearable storm. Your insides clutch as rivulets of hot and cold gather in your core, mingling to a fiery roil.
You spasm, stunned by your own body. You stand on your toes as your muscles tauten and your nerves ping off each other. You cum with a raspy whine, forced over the edge by the battle of his thrusting fingers and diligent tongue.
His laughter rumbles through you as he indulges in your dissemblance. He slows as you heave helplessly. He slides his fingers out of you, leaving an emptiness there, and wipes your cum down your leg. He parts from your cunt entirely, a rocky snarl as he stands.
You smell yourself on his breath as he comes close again. He grabs the back of your neck and draws you away from the tree. Your legs tingle and shake beneath you. He turns and hurls you down to the ground. You land on your knees, hitting your elbows in the dirt.
He grabs your hips, keeping them up. He kneels behind you, one hand brushing up your back and forcing your chest down to the ground. You don’t fight him, you have nothing left.
He feels along your panties, hooking his fingers in the rent of the fabric and tears it further up your ass. He gropes you roughly, digging his nails into your skin and dragging them up, leaving hot scratches along your ass. He runs his hand from your shoulders to your hip, gripping you as his other hand retreats from your ass.
The air stills and your ears ring as each breath scalds in your chest. You stare into the deep void of the forest as his zipper splits through the silence. Time slows as dread suffocates you. This is it. This is really happening.
His fingers tickle along your ass and you twitch. He reaches your cunt, rubbing and spreading your lips, taunting you as he curves his fingers along it. He edges closer on your knees, pushing yours wider, and he pulls his hand away.
He prods you with his tip, making a slow path down to your entrance. He circles it as he groans, basking in the tension of that moment. He leans against you until his tip slips into you. You strain around him, heaving into a horrifying wail as he pushes deeper.
He reaches to your neck, pinning your face in the dirt as he jerks his hip, filling you with the single, agonizing motion. You cry out louder, your horror echoing into the sky. Your head quakes and your ears vibrate with the volume of your own grief, rising from you without restraint.
He slides back and snaps into you again. The slap of flesh underlines your breathy weeps. His weight puts an ache in your neck and down your spine. Your fingers dip into the dirt as you clutch at handfuls of dirt. He bucks again, again, again, each time growling with delight.
His palm cracks against the side of your ass, a new pain radiating through your hips. With each thrust, he smacks you, curling his nails into you, pinching, only to do it again. You whimper and wail, trapped in his fervour as you taste soil and the salt of your tears.
He bends over you, hooking his arm around your middle and the other around your neck. He sits up with you against him. His hand brushes up your side and kneads your chest as he rocks you in his lap. Your head lolls as you hiccup through your tears.
He ruts from below, splitting you in two as his muscle bulges around your neck. You wheeze as he squeezes tighter and tighter, until the world speckles to grey and black. You feel his final, jarring rams as they throb in your core, and the sudden burst of heat inside you. Almost soothing as it assures you of the end.
But it is not. He puts you on your back. Senseless, dazed, he’s on top of you, crawling over you like an animal. He fucking you against the ground, holding your leg bent against him, biting into the flesh along your shoulder. Torturing you from the inside until he’s spent again.
Not spent, not done. You’re on your side, the world flickering beneath teared-webbed lashes, each ruts shaking you. Legs together, he claps against your thighs until again he empties into you with a raucous roar.
Again, again, again. Until you’re smeared with dirt, grass, sweat, and cum. Until you’re left an empty husk across the forest floor. 
Your eyelids part as he pulls the blade from the tree, a softer light emanating from the sky as the dawn approaches. He sheathes the knife as he marches around you, poking you with the dirt of his boot. He stops and squats at your side, a crooked smile on his lips.
“This hunt is not over, pet,” he reaches to brush a roughened thumb across your cheek, “I know you are stronger than this.”
He stands again and rolls his shoulders as he shakes out his mussed curls. He takes a step forward, then another, and another, striding into the sunrise without a look back. You lay prone across the lumpy ground, trying to untangle his words. They are more than a warning, they are a promise.
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minustwofingers · 2 years
Text
exoplanet p. 4.5
second half of exoplanet part 4!
pairing: ellie williams x reader
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summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf
warnings: PLEASE READ! mentions of nsfw content (read at your own risk), violence, explicit language. also a lot of angst. ellie is still kind of a dick but not quite as much. 
a/n: haha. isn’t it sooo funny how i said this would come out almost 12 hours later and then i posted it? i need to hit the hay early asf today if im to be frank w you guys so here it is now. i want to thank you all for the sweet and kind messages and comments i’ve been getting—they’ve been fuel for my writing!! also, i’ve got a better idea of how i want to end it now, so i’ve got a pretty good outline for what’s going to happen. expect around 3 more parts (one of which may or may not be an epilogue from ellie’s pov). as always thanks for reading!
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4.0 (first half of this part) 
playlist inspired by exoplanet!!
wc: 6.5k
tags: @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower​ 
enjoy x 
Dina’s sudden reappearance in your life was turning into one of the best things you had going on. When you were done with work, instead of loitering about Joel’s home and hoping to run into Ellie, you’d knock on Dina’s front door and spend your afternoons gossiping and trading stories. 
She never asked so explicitly about Ellie again, but you could tell that occasionally she wanted to.
“Guess whose birthday it is this weekend?” asked Dina one day in late April. The Wyoming sun was hung high in the sky, and the weather was steadily becoming warmer. The temperature was stuck at a breezy 60, and a part of you wondered just how hot it would get over the summer. 
Terranova rarely ever got over 70 degrees. Would it be hotter than that? Would you even be here to see it?
“Yours?” you guessed casually, pushing away the ever-present question of how long you’d really be in Jackson.
Dina snorted. “No. Not quite. You just missed mine, actually. I’m a December baby.” 
“Jesse?”
“No.”
“Joel?”
“Nope.” Her mouth popped on the p. 
Your heart thudded. “Uh—Ellie?” 
Her face split into a wide grin. “Yes! It’s her 20th. Isn’t that crazy? She’s ancient.” 
“Wow!” you said, coaxing faux enthusiasm into your voice. 
You and her had kept seeing each other at night, long after Joel had turned in. It always proceeded like clockwork—she’d come knock at your door, you’d fall into her bed, and then you’d leave.
You’d thankfully avoided any of the embarrassing stuff that you’d done the second night—no more unnecessary sensual face touching and whispers of her being a good person. You wanted to, though. There was so much that you ached to tell her, so many words that threatened to spill from your lips that you just barely managed to keep at bay. 
The worst part was the way that nothing had really changed between you two beyond what transpired every few evenings in her room. Each morning, you’d wake up knowing that you were in for another day of pretending like she didn’t know what it sounded like when you whined and begged and told her where to touch you. Like you didn’t know how her mouth tasted.
“I want to get her a present,” Dina was saying. “I do something for her every year, but I want this birthday to be a little different—given that she’s made it two decades and all, you know.” 
“That’s really thoughtful of you.”
Dina’s eyes sparkled. “I know! Do you want to help? If you do, I’ll tell her it’s from you, too.”
“Actually,” you said, wheels in your head turning, “That would be amazing. I have no idea what I’d get her otherwise.”
“Great.” Dina leaned back, nabbing her backpack from the ground and fishing through it until she produced a map. She unfolded it and began gesturing over the marks. “I found an abandoned bookstore in this area outside of the wall.” She tapped on a dot that she’d made, situated a fair ways away from the wall and on the opposite side of the town as the dam. 
“So we’re going shopping?”
Dina laughed. “Yeah. 5 finger discount, too. The only problem is that we might need to kill some baddies to qualify, but once we clear our way, it’s home free.”
“Right,” you said, fear creeping into your bones at the thought of having to fight off the infected. You’d only been on a few patrols since you’d been shot, and each had been totally unnoteworthy. You’d yet to actually shoot your gun at anything. “You—you do know that I’m not actually that good of a patrol partner, right?”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Dina, waving her hand dismissively. “I can take care of us. Plus, we haven’t seen infected in this area for a while. This is a pretty remote area—tough to reach unless you know what you’re looking for.”
“So, when are we going?”
A glimmer appeared in her eye. “Now?”
~
“Where are you going?” 
Ellie stood, her arms crossed as she leaned against the opposite wall. You were grabbing your patrol things, slinging your backpack over your shoulders and pulling on the gray sweatshirt she’d given you.
“Out with Dina,” you said, slightly breathless from moving so quickly. You hadn’t been expecting Ellie to be home—normally she was keeping herself busy picking up extra patrol shifts and helping Joel. It had been an unwelcome surprise to run into her, sour faced and serious while you were trying to get ready. 
“Out where?”
You shrugged, trying your best to look nonchalant. “Dina said she wanted to show me something.”
She was silent as you finished lacing up your shoes, but you could see her watching you from the corner of your eyes.
“I’ll be back in time for tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you offered snidely, hardly realizing what you’d said until it had left your lips. It had been a low blow. It had been nasty. You weren’t sure why you’d said it. 
“That’s not—” She rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 
“I know.” You stood up, feeling deflated. “Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” 
Ellie sent you a tight smile. “It’s fine.”  
You walked back to Dina’s feeling heavy. That was how most of your interactions with Ellie seemed to go nowadays—awkward, stiff, and remarkably unfriendly. You weren’t sure what changed. And she was still fucking you, which didn’t make much sense.
Sometimes it felt like she was distancing herself on purpose. But that had to be wrong, because why would she do that? You obviously liked her. She wasn’t the one at risk of being hurt. 
You and Dina took off by foot as the sun began to set, well-armed with both weapons and navigational equipment. Well—Dina was, at least. All you had was the small gun Ellie had given you. Dina was doing all of the heavy lifting.
The forest was quiet, interrupted only occasionally by songbirds and the sound of wind rustling through the leaves. Spring had hit Jackson suddenly, the underbrush exploding in volume and flowers blooming everywhere.
As you two walked through the woods, chattering mindlessly and generally enjoying each other’s company, you made a mental reminder to return to the forest to pick up a makeshift bouquet of flowers. Ellie didn’t seem like the type to swoon over things like that, but even the most unromantic people could recognize the gesture of flowers. You were sure she’d at least put them in a vase. 
Eventually the path Dina was leading you on opened up to a heavily overgrown street, a small decrepit strip mall hidden away in the shrubbery.
“Here!” said Dina cheerily. She jogged forward, scrubbing the moss off of the door to show a book icon on the filthy glass.
“And you said that there’s no infected here?” you asked, your fingers wrapped nervously around your gun.
“Of course I did,” said Dina. “Do you think I’d take you somewhere that was infested?”
The glass shattered as a body came crashing through the door, thrashing and clicking in a mass of bloody limbs as it took Dina to the ground.
Your finger squeezed the trigger before you could think, sending a spray of gore into the air as Dina forced the thing off of her and stood, panting. 
There wasn’t even a chance to breathe. A piercing shriek cut through the air before three more followed the first, not paying any mind to the jagged edges of the broken door that grabbed at their mutilated skin. 
“Fuck!” Dina’s knife went swinging through the air, slicing and jabbing at the creatures in front of you. They fell in quick succession, but there was more rustling and screaming from inside. Far too much rustling. “Run!”
She didn’t have to tell you twice. Despite the fact that you’d never been a track star in school, you bolted quicker than you’d even known possible. Your backpack banged against your back as you sprinted down the road, ducking into the brush and making a break for it with Dina right on your tail. 
The walk there had taken close to 30 minutes. Your sprint cut that in over half. You and Dina ran in stride, with her lagging behind to send off a few shots to ground the runners that were quick enough to keep up. The clearing you appeared in all the way back in the winter flashed by you in a second, and within another few moments, you were both resting against the wall, chests heaving as you both picked off the stragglers that had come out of the forest to investigate.
By the time the last gunshot rang out and the final infected slumped to the ground, you were shaking uncontrollably, your gun vibrating in your hand. 
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” said Dina, equally breathless though significantly more composed as you two walked through the entrance, getting concerned looks from the people who were manning the gate. “I’ve never seen so many in that store before. I don’t understand. It was clear the last time I went.” 
Before you could respond, someone stepped into your eye line.
“What the fuck did you do,” seethed Ellie. Her eyes were wild, her lip curled in a manner so derisive you began to wonder if you’d ever actually seen her angry before this. 
“Chill, Ellie,” said Dina. “Y/N and I were just going to try and pick something up for your birthday. There were…a few more than what I was expecting. But it’s fine. We handled them. She did great.”
Ellie looked at you then, and you could feel her taking you in. Her eyes rested with accusation at the way that your hands were trembling. “You’re so fucking stupid, Dina. You knew that she’s never done this before. What the fuck is wrong with you, taking her out like that?”
“It was clear the last time I was there!” Dina spoke with her hands, waving them through the air in emphasis.“There wasn’t supposed to be any. I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t purposefully try to get us killed.” 
Ellie sent her another scathing look before turning her attention to you. “And don’t even get me started with you.”
You blinked. “What?”
“What the fuck were you thinking?!” she snapped. 
Dina sent you a wink and disappeared down the street in the direction of her house. 
“I was thinking of your birthday, actually,” you said delicately. “We were going to get you something from the bookstore.”
“That is not an excuse to go get yourself killed!”
You held up your hands in mock surrender, which looked really stupid considering how hard you were still trembling. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the original plan. Can we not do this right now? I’m still trying to, uh, process what happened.” 
As if to punctuate your point, the next step you took nearly sent you to the ground, your knees wobbling. 
Ellie’s hands were at your sides in an instant, solid and steadying against you as you regained your balance.
“Sorry,” you said again, lower this time. 
“How many?” Ellie asked. Her voice was softer now, almost resigned. She hadn’t let go yet.
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “After the first three or four, I lost count. They just kept—” You winced at the memory of the wet sound that they made hitting the ground. “They just kept coming.” 
“You did them a favor,” said Ellie, stepping back and to your side as you began to walk forward. Her hand stayed posed on your forearm. “It gets easier.” 
“I don’t know if I want it to get easier,” you confessed. 
“Well, how about you start by never doing something that fucking stupid again.” Her words lacked any venom. “Don’t you ever go out without me again, okay? Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you?”
You gave your trembling hands a look. “I can take a guess.”
Ellie walked you back to Joel’s house, helping you out of your jacket and unsubtly checking your skin for bites. Or at least that’s what she said she was doing. She couldn’t seem to stop touching you. 
You headed back up to your room to get changed as Ellie shut the front door and was off to finish her work with Tommy. As you leisurely made your way down the hallway, you noticed that something was off—the hallway closet was slightly ajar.
The memories of your first night there came floating back to you, images of Ellie shutting the door before you could see inside emerging to the forefront.
It wouldn’t hurt to look, would it? It was probably nothing. 
Your hand wrapped tentatively around the handle, pulling the door open so slowly that the old, rusty hinge fell silent.
It wasn’t what you were expecting. It wasn’t what you were expecting at all. 
It wasn’t really a closet—there were a few shelves, but no hangers. In their place, there were stacks of textbooks with old, dated covers of the stars, planets, and physics. The back wall was plastered with drawings of constellations and calculations in Ellie’s messy scrawl, reminiscent of the leftover scrap paper from when you sat your physics exams and did your problem sets.
The memory of Ellie staring at your textbook re-emerged to hit you with full force. No wonder she was interested in it. THIS is what she was going to say that she wanted to study when you’d asked her. 
A slow smile crept onto your face as you thought about her upcoming birthday.
You knew what you were getting her now. 
~
Preparing for Ellie’s surprise party was a full day’s worth of work. You and Dina had convinced Maria to give Ellie enough things to do that she’d stay out of the house for the majority of the afternoon. You felt kind of guilty that Ellie was being put to work on her birthday of all days, but Dina just shook her head.
“It’s Ellie,” she said. “She lives to act all macho and patrol and shit. This is probably an extra present to her.” 
You two had located some flour, sugar, eggs, and butter and were hard at work baking a cake. It was tough going without a real recipe, but you’d grown up with a mother who loved baking, so you tried to do it from memory.
The result was a rather lopsided looking monstrosity that you and Dina had attempted to salvage through the liberal application of the thin icing you’d managed to whip up using milk and powdered sugar. It didn’t work, and you two didn’t wait long enough for the cake to cool before frosting it, so it melted in puddles and made the cake soggy.
“Fantastic work,” said Dina, wiping her hands on her front as you two surveyed the final product. “Really incredible, Y/N. You should really consider a career change.”
“Shut up,” you said, snorting. “Ellie’s gonna hate this.”
“She’s going to think it’s hilarious,” Dina corrected. “I���m sure it can’t taste too bad, right?”
You shivered. “Don’t say that.”
The decorations and gathering of presents were thankfully an easier challenge, and before you knew it Joel’s living room was fixed up to look obnoxious as possible, with a tacky “HAPP BIRTHDAE ELLIE” strung up in blood red reflective plastic (you two couldn’t find any Ys) above the fireplace. “Happy 5th Birthday!” balloons filled the ceiling, their gaudy purple color clashing horrifically with the red of the lettering. 
“This is just awful, Dina,” you said. “Ellie’s never going to speak to us again.”
“You need to chill,” Dina responded. “She might act grumpy all of the time, but I know her, and I know she’ll secretly like this.”
7 rolled around quickly, and with it came the guests.
First was the unsurprising Jesse, grinning and carrying a satchel that had a makeshift card attached to the top labeled “Ellie”. 
Next came Astrid, Bonnie, and Greg—all of the patrolmen that were roughly around your age. You hadn’t spent all that much time with them, but they’d always been fun.
Last came a girl you’d never seen before.
“Hi!” she said, extending a hand and looking at you through a fringe of choppy black hair. 
“Hi!” you said, taking her hand and shaking it once. “I’m Y/N.”
“I know,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “I’m Cat.”
“I can’t believe you two haven’t met before,” said Dina, swooping in to stand beside you. There was something written on her face—something that looked kind of like worry.
“I can’t either!” you said good-naturedly. “How do you know Ellie?”
Dina cringed.
Cat just smiled wider. “Oh. Ellie and I go way back.”
“Cat, why don’t you go help me in the kitchen? I need to finish plating some stuff,” said Dina. 
“Sure!” Cat sent you one more winning smile, following Dina with a bounce in her step.
Something felt deeply off about that interaction, but you couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was. You’d never seen Dina so eager to get you away from someone. Maybe it’d just been a coincidence?
You didn’t get a chance to dwell on it further, because Ellie was opening the door. 
“Surprise!” Everyone in the living room yelled upon seeing her. 
Ellie blanched, her eyes landing on you for a moment before she cast her gaze to the rest of the room. “What’s this?”
“Your birthday party,” said Dina, appearing from the kitchen with a plate of crackers and other appetizers, Cat in tow. “You didn’t think we were just going to let you turn 20 without embarrassing you just a little bit?”
“Those are the most hideous balloons I’ve ever seen,” said Ellie, crossing her arms.
“Thanks,” you said, beaming. “I picked them out myself.” 
Much to your surprise, her lips lifted until she was smiling back. “You’re such a loser.”
“Okay!” said Dina, clearing her throat and stepping in between you two. “You two can flirt later. I’ve been slaving away in the kitchen for an entire day. Let’s eat.”
You shut your mouth, blushing uncontrollably as your eyes lifted. Ellie’s cheeks looked uncharacteristically pink and her eyes were fixed on your shoes.
Dinner went by quickly, with everyone trading odd stories about patrolling and their life before Jackson. You learned that Dina had actually been born in New Mexico and that Astrid was from Oregon. You heard all about how Jesse and Greg came across an old mall a few miles out of Jackson that was so full of infected that they could hear them scratching at the doors and clicking even before they were within eyesight of the building. You told some stories about your life in Terranova, about studying and your family. 
“What the fuck is this?” asked Ellie once Dina had reappeared, carrying your sorry excuse of a birthday cake. Time had not treated it well. The first layer was almost entirely slid off, and the cake looked damp from the melted icing.
“It’s your birthday cake,” you said. “We, uh, tried. I don’t have a cake recipe memorized, and it was harder than I expected.”
The candles Dina attempted to stick into the cake kept falling out, the structural integrity so weakened from the melted frosting that chunks were coming off.
“Let’s just pretend that there’s 20 candles,” said Dina finally once the top layer of the cake finally split in half. 
“Right,” said Ellie, snorting. 
Dina led a very enthusiastic rendition of the Happy Birthday song that ended in cheers and hollers as Ellie dramatically lowered her head to the cake and pretended to blow the “candles” out. 
No one touched the cake, but you couldn’t blame them. 
Next came presents. Jesse went first, giving Ellie a satchel that held a bunch of cleaning equipment for her patrol rifles. Dina had found a t-shirt that said “Enemy of the State” in goofy comic sans lettering, and Ellie was unsuccessful in holding back her giggles at seeing it. 
“Dina, this is so stupid,” she said, but there was no venom in her tone, just amusement. 
It was your turn next, so you leaned across the table to place the small box in front of her. 
“Please tell me you didn’t almost die getting this one,” said Ellie, giving you a suspicious look.
“Not at all,” you said. “I accidentally brought it from Terranova.” 
Her nimble fingers untied the flimsy ribbon you’d haphazardly wrapped around the tiny brown box, lifting the lid off and peering inside.
“It’s a…rock?” Ellie frowned, pulling it out and holding it in her hand.
“You got her a rock for her birthday?” Cat asked you from her position to your right, her eyebrows raised.
“It’s not just a rock,” you said. “It’s a moon rock. Like, from the moon.”
Ellie froze, her eyes saucers as she stared at the rock balanced in her palm. “What?”
“I told you I studied astrophysics,” you said casually. “One of my professors let me borrow it because my research supervisor wanted to take a look at it, so it was in my bag. And I never had the chance to give it to him, obviously. So it’s yours now.” 
“Holy fuck.” She turned in over, her fingers running across the surface. “This is…wow. Oh my god.”
“That’s so cool, dude,” Jesse said. “Like, insane. I didn’t even know that those were a thing.”
“There’s only a couple in the world,” you added. “And even fewer that are still reachable. The rest are…well, out here somewhere. Terranova only has a few from our own expeditions and the professors who managed to grab what they had when they moved.”
“This one’s from me,” said Cat, leaning forward and placing an envelope in front of Ellie. “It’s not as cool as a moon rock, but I thought you’d like it.” 
Her fingers slid under the tongue of the envelope, ripping it open and pulling a piece of paper out. 
“Good for one more free tattoo,” Ellie read out.
Cat sat back, looking awfully pleased with herself. 
“Cat was the one who gave Ellie the one on her arm,” Dina explained to you.
 A memory pricked at your consciousness, dating back to your first patrol with Ellie.
An ex had given her the tattoo on her arm.
The girl who had given her tattoo was Cat.
Cat was her ex.
That makes so much sense you realized with horror as you remembered how Cat had told you so confidently that she and Ellie went way back. Of course they did. They used to date.
“Where’d you go?” asked Dina, bumping your shoulder.
“Sorry,” you said, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Just, uh, tired.”
When you looked up, Ellie’s eyes were on you, her lips slightly quirked.
You looked away, instead focusing on the placemats that Dina had set out. Cat was so different from you—so peppy, so confident, so loud. No wonder Ellie didn’t want anything more than what you had now. Whatever Ellie had seen in Cat had nothing to do with you. 
The night ended with you all sitting on the couches in the living room with Dina mixing drinks so strong that you were wondering if she was trying to kill you. 
“Jesus Christ, Dina,” you said as you watched her pour. “What is that? 90 percent vodka?” 
“I prefer to call it efficient,” Dina corrected. 
It burned going down your throat and you fought back a cough as you placed your glass back on the coffee table. Ellie was right next to you, her thigh barely brushing against yours as you moved.
Cat was on the other side of the room, seated next to Jesse and Astrid. You were internally very proud that Ellie had chosen to sit next to you instead. Her arm rested on the back of the couch behind you, and even though it couldn’t have meant all that much, you couldn’t help but wonder if it at least meant something. 
You were just halfway through your cup by the time you started to feel really and properly sloshed. Your voice sounded tinny in your ears, and from the way that Ellie was laughing at anything anyone said, you had a sneaking suspicion that she was somewhere around where you were.
It wasn’t long before everyone had excused themselves and wished Ellie a final happy birthday—it was getting late and quite a few had early shifts the next day.
Dina was the last to go, saying goodbye and sending you another look as she pointedly stared at the arm rested behind you.
For a few minutes, you and Ellie just sat in silence, hearing the fire crackle and the sound of her softly breathing.
Then she spoke.
“How did you know that I’d like the moon rock?”
“Oh.” You blushed. “Don’t be mad. You left the closet door open the other day—you know, the one with all your space textbooks and everything. It was an educated guess.” 
“So nosy,” she tutted. 
“But you do like the rock?” 
She smiled. “Yes. Thank you.”
You reached forward and polished off the rest of the drink that Dina had made you, feeling the liquid fire slide down your throat and settle in your stomach. 
When you turned back, you could see Ellie staring at you, her auburn hair glowing in the firelight, her pupils blown wide, and her eyes slightly unfocused. She’d had more than one of the drinks that Dina had made, and it was really showing. 
“You’re so pretty.”
You froze. Out of all the things you expected her to say, that was nowhere on the list. The words had left Ellie’s lips like a compulsion, raw and honest. 
She hadn’t stopped looking at you, but her eyes were wider, her cheeks red. She hadn’t meant to say it, you realized. Now she was embarrassed and flustered, and it was all because of you. 
It was the boldness of being tipsy that made you move towards her, pulling your legs up until you were seated on your knees in front of her.
Ellie didn’t move apart from wetting her lips, her eyes darting from your eyes to your mouth. 
When you kissed her, she melted into you. The arm that had been draped over the couch behind you dropped to your back, your own hands sliding into her hair and tightening at the back of her neck.
She gasped as she felt your nails scrape against her, and you took the opportunity to lick into her open mouth, tasting the vodka on her tongue as it slid against yours.
To your surprise, her hands didn’t creep up your shirt or dip below the waist of your pants. They stayed static, one glommed onto your back while the other clutched your jaw as she let you kiss her, over and over again. 
You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there was something about it that felt different than your usual nighttime meetups. It felt more—vulnerable, almost, that Ellie was kissing you just to kiss you, not with some other agenda. 
The grandfather clock chimed, indicating that it was almost midnight. You pulled away from her for a second, panting as you caught your breath. A string of saliva suspended between your lips, snapping as you waved a hand through it and flushed.
“Sorry,” you whispered.
She just smiled.
“Is Joel going to be back soon?”
As if to punctuate your point, the front door banged open, the man in question pulling his jacket off and turning to see you both. You’d thankfully managed to get off her lap before he saw. 
“Oh!” he said, his eyebrows nearly touching his hairline. “I wasn’t expecting you two to still be awake.”
“Uh, yeah,” said Ellie, scratching the back of her neck. “We’ve just been…talking.”
“Good party?”
“Yeah.” 
“I’m glad. Tommy and Maria wish you a happy birthday, by the way. Though I’m sure you knew that.” 
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“Well,” said Joel, giving a sigh that only old men could recreate, “I’m off to bed. You two don’t stay up too late, huh? You’ve still got work tomorrow.” 
“Goodnight,” you two chorused. 
Once Joel had disappeared into his room, you turned to look at her.
“That was close.” 
“Yeah.” Ellie laughed nervously, picking at her cuticles. “Um—do you want to move somewhere else?”
Something deep in your chest ached. Sure, you’d be okay with spending another hour or so feeling her hands on you as she made you finish, but a part of you had really liked just touching her for the sake of touching her—kissing her just because you could.
“Sure,” you said. “Just give me a chance to change.”
When you knocked after switching into more comfortable clothes, the door swung open to reveal a significantly more nervous looking Ellie than you’d seen in a while.
“Hi,” you said shyly.
“Hi.”��
You stepped into her, pressing a tentative kiss to the corner of her mouth. When she didn’t react, you pulled back.
“Is everything okay?”
“Do you want to stay over?” Ellie blurted out, her eyes wide and afraid. 
You balked. “Uh, what?”
“You don’t have to,” she said, her eyes dropping to the ground. “I’m sorry. I know we’re not like that. I just thought that—maybe, I dunno, just this once—”
“Yes,” you interrupted. “Please. I’d really like that.” 
“Right. Good. Okay.” She took a deep breath, then laced her fingers through yours to lead you to her bed.
When your mouth found hers again, it was just like on the couch—no intentionally rough or overtly sexual touches, just gentle brushes against your skin and the weight of fingers tangled in your hair as she pulled you further into her.
For the first time since you confessed, you didn’t sleep together. When you two finally tired out, you flopping down on the pillow first, Ellie’s head came to rest on the expanse of skin between your shoulder and your neck, your arms coming around her.
It was strange. For someone so deadly and tough, Ellie suddenly looked so small and fragile curled against you, the rise and fall of her chest synchronized with your breathing. 
“I’m sorry Cat was invited,” Ellie said, her voice muffled from where her face was pressed into your neck.
“What do you mean?”
“I should have told you what her name was. That must’ve been a nasty surprise.”
Her foresight and understanding made your heart ache, deeply. How was it that she could say all these things but not want anything more with you?
“It was alright,” you said. There was no conviction in your tone. “I wouldn’t have expected you to tell me.”
Ellie was silent for a few beats. You knew she was thinking, though; you could feel the flutter of her lashes against you as she blinked.
“How long do you think it’ll take for you to forget me?”
You paused. “What? What do you mean?”
Ellie shifted against you, one of her arms draped over your chest. “I mean, when you go back.”
“Ellie,” you chided, bringing your hand up so you could run your fingers through her hair. “Don’t be ridiculous. As if I’d ever just leave you behind. If I go back there, I’m finding some way to bring you with me. So, no. That’s not even a valid question. I’m never forgetting you.” 
In truth, you hadn’t even begun to consider what you’d do if—when—you were found. You’d been so focused on trying to fit into your new life here that your past had largely just faded into the back, shrinking in the horizon. What you did know, at least, was that even in some dystopian future without Ellie, she’d never be off of your mind.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 
“I’m not,” you replied, tapping her shoulder. “I mean it. You’re stuck with me.” 
Her diaphragm vibrated as she let out a short laugh. “Oh, the horrors.” 
She fell silent as you kept threading your fingers through her hair, letting your nails scrape against her scalp. The hand that wasn’t draped over your chest had crept up, her thumb rubbing back and forth as she traced the outline of your jaw.
“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. “I can be such a sad drunk sometimes. It’s pathetic.”
“It’s okay,” you soothed, your other hand lightly dancing up and down her back. “I think it’s sweet.”
She snorted. “You would.” 
Then, after a few more seconds of silence: “You really weren’t jealous?”
“I never said that.” 
“So she did make you jealous?”
You flicked her shoulder. “Fuck off. Of course she did. Happy?”
“Thrilled.” 
A few moments later, she spoke up again. 
“Can you promise me something?” Her voice was deceptively casual.
“Anything.” You’d give her anything she wanted.
“Promise me that you’ll take the first opportunity to go home,” she said softly. “Promise you won’t do anything stupid.”
“I’ll take the first opportunity to go home as long as I get to have you around, too.” 
You couldn’t see it, but you knew she was rolling her eyes. “Not good enough.”
“You want me to leave that badly?” You weren’t sure if you should be hurt.
“Of course not,” she responded. “I just...I don’t expect you to wait around here for me. I don’t want you to. I want you to be safe.”
“I feel safe with you.”
“Will you just—fucking—say you’ll go?” Her voice sounded raw, tired. 
“Fine,” you said. “I promise.” 
Your words were empty. You couldn’t promise her that. She had to know that. But would it matter? If you never had to make that choice?
In retrospect, you weren’t sure when you drifted off. All you remembered was the warmth of Ellie gathered up in your arms, her measured breath blowing across your exposed neck as you felt the slow, marching rhythm of her heart.
~
When you awoke to the early morning sunbeams streaming in through the window and warming your face, Ellie was passed out cold on top of you. A few unruly strands of her auburn hair had ruffled upwards overnight, sticking to your cheek and threatening the seams of your lips. 
You’d never been happier.
As you thought, running your hand gently up and down the length of her spine, Ellie’s breath hitched.
You froze, thinking you must have woken her.
Then she made a quiet snort. She took another deep breath in, whistling as it went. Her next exhale was louder and caught in her nose. 
You did your best not to laugh enough to wake her.
Ellie snored, even though she wasn’t that loud. The part of you that was still intimidated by her was shrinking by the minute. If only you had known in the beginning that after a long day of bullying you she went back to her room to honk shoo the night away, you never would’ve let it bother you.
She jolted awake, blinking rapidly as she pulled away and looked up at you.
“What the fuck are you laughing about?” she said groggily. “It’s—” She twisted in your arms, squinting at her desk. “It’s 6 in the fucking morning. Shut up.” With that, she flopped back down on top of you, laying one arm over your torso so she could shove it the space under the pillow beside your head. 
“You shut up,” you heard yourself say. 
Ellie smacked your shoulder, not even bothering to lift her head. 
“You snore,” you said, quieter this time. 
“I don’t.”
“You literally do. I was there when it happened.” 
She was silent for a few moments. “Really?”
You pressed your lips to her forehead instead as you trembled from the laugh you were doing your best to rein in.
“Oh, god,” groaned Ellie. “That’s so embarrassing.” 
“I thought it was cute.”
“You think everything I do is cute.” 
“And what about it?”
You settled back in, wrapping your arms around Ellie as you tried to drift back off.
“Do you hear that?” 
Her voice was whispered.
“Hear what?”
“That sound.” 
You let go of her and sat up, your eyes unfocused as you tried your best to tune into whatever Ellie was talking about. Out of the corner of your vision you could see her staring at you with big, nervous eyes.
It took you a moment to notice it. No one could blame you, really. It was hardly a rarity to hear the sound of a plane when you grew up in Terranova. 
“That’s a plane, Ellie,” you said, reaching out to cup her face. “It’s fine.” 
“A plane?” She frowned, still blinking bleariness out of her eyes. “I’ve never heard one before. Joel told me that they stopped being used after the government officially fell.”
“That’s not true,” you corrected. “There’s some in—”
A puzzle piece clicked into place, and with it came a sense of underlying dread. But you shouldn’t be dreading it. It’s what you were hoping for after all, weren’t you? What you’d been praying for since you’d arrived?
“Let’s go outside and look,” you said, nudging her side. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” You were hoping it was nothing. 
Ellie followed you, pulling a throw blanket from her bed and draping it around her shoulders like a cape. She looked so cute like that. You wanted to bite her. Not, like, in a weird blood kink way. Just in a…you didn’t know how to describe it. Better leave it there. 
A lump formed in your throat.
Maybe you were wrong. Maybe this had nothing to do with you.
The air was tepid and pleasant against your bare skin as you two quietly opened the front door and crept onto the porch. The town was quiet. No one was awake at this hour, not unless they were down by the stables or doing night watch. 
There was a sliver of pink and orange hanging over the tops of the mountains, no doubt remnants of what had been a spectacular sunrise. There were still snowy caps on the highest peaks. You hadn’t known that mountains could stay so cold for so long until you’d come to Jackson.
The lump in your throat grew larger.
“Shit,” said Ellie, leaping down from the porch and onto the road. “Do you see this?”
The plane was no longer in sight, but the swirling papers that hadn’t been on the road the night before were left as evidence.
“They must’ve dropped them,” said Ellie excitedly, snatching one from the ground and bounding back up the steps so she was next to you. “What do you think this says?”
You smiled sadly. “Why don’t you read it?”
She unfolded the envelope, ripping open the top and dumping the contents out in her hand. 
“Oh.” 
It was a picture of you. It’d been taken months prior at your family’s Christmas party. You’d worn glittery silver eyeliner and curled your hair. The upper half of your body was in view, clad in a rich red fabric that landed right below your collarbones. A string of creamy white pearls were clasped around your neck, matching the teardrop pearls that hung delicately from your ears. 
HAVE YOU SEEN HER?
There was no other text, but you did notice a divet at the top right corner in the shape of a small oval. 
Terranovan security. Of course. 
Wordlessly, you pressed your thumb into the mold, holding it there for a second as the parchment recorded your print.
Then a paragraph formed at the bottom, ink slowly leaking into the paper.
COME TO THE COORDINATES LISTED BELOW AT EXACTLY NOON, MAY 15TH. A LIFT WILL BE WAITING TO ESCORT YOU.
You’d been found. 
final a/n: sorry not sorry this was the original cliffhanger that i was planning for part 4 all along. you guys are incredible for still sticking around and reading even though this is getting lengthy as hell. anyway i hope you guys enjoyed this sort of different side of ellie before we reach the final act. the plot is abt to reach its peak and i’m hellaaa excited to share it with you. okok let me know what you think! it might take me around the same time it took me to finish part 4 to get part 5 out considering how sick i am/how much i have on my plate, but i promise it’s coming :))
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poppyseed799 · 9 months
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I’m not sure if it’s a conscious thing people are doing but I’ve been seeing a LOT of people trying to discredit Scar’s win. And I don’t like it.
In the 2v1, Pearl only got one hit in, which I don’t think dealt too much damage, then let Scar handle the rest, so it was basically Scar and Pearl’s wolves vs Gem. If Scar had killed Pearl like she wanted him to, and made it a 1v1 with Scar and Gem, then Scar would’ve had extra hearts and therefore an even BETTER advantage. So I don’t think he only won the fight cuz of the 2v1.
Then people also keep saying he wouldn’t have won if Grian didn’t deal so much damage to Gem earlier. I mean… yeah??? I’m sure Gem would’ve won if nobody attacked her ever. But they did, because that’s how the series works. Grian didn’t kill Gem, Scar did. Why are we talking about how much damage Grian dealt in a conversation that isn’t about him. You could apply this logic to literally any time someone attacked someone else to discredit any kill (unless it’s a kill done on someone with full hearts and no assistance I guess lol). Like I get Grian dealt what, over 40 hearts of damage? That absolutely softened Gem up but she recovered enough to not instantly die afterwards soo. Why do we credit Grian for a kill Scar did long after he died.
I also saw someone complaining that Scar only got so many kills and won because he was picking off people with low hearts. Dude it’s literally not his fault if everyone he goes after happens to have low hearts, he couldn’t know that. With Tango, everyone knew, and Scar gave him MANY chances to escape being killed. You know what he did with the rest of the people he knew had low hearts? Let Skizz run away longer, found out Joel had low hearts and told him to go for Skizz. Does that sound like something a cheapster who wants to pick off easy kills would do??? Besides, if going after people with low hearts WAS his strategy, it would be a pretty valid one lol. Difficult to pull off too since you don’t know heart counts and not everyone escapes a fight on low health.
They also said he only won because he had too many allies? I mean, that is stupid because that’s literally part of the strategy in this series, it’s a survival/pvp/SOCIAL game. Scar has ALWAYS tried to win via having alliances. AND HE DIDNT EVEN HAVE ANY SOLID ONES SO WHAT WERE THEY ON ABOUT?? I guess because everyone decided to try to win him over to their side? Which was actually caused by him NOT having allies lol. He honestly did more helping others than being helped anyways. Well, in the finale.
Anyways, I just wanna add that this does NOT mean we gotta make fun of Gem for losing or whatever. You could say like “Gem could’ve won if only (whatever) didn’t happen!” As a way to hype her up. But saying “Scar only won because (whatever)” is just messed up. He earned that win. Gem was also deserving but things didn’t line up well for her so she got a good 3rd place. That’s just how the series goes. This makes it sound like it’s Gem fans that are discrediting Scar but honestly I don’t think it is? I just don’t want people to think you can’t hype up Gem or talk about how she could’ve won.
Back to the topic. I think the enchanting having no restrictions really helped Scar lol. It had always been a big part of his strategy and now he finally had an episode 5 that was getting stacked as hell instead of dying horribly. Happy for him.
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sideblogdotjpeg · 4 months
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feeling like. ep 60 was such a fantastic arc finale battle ep. and auugh. like so many things. LIKE .
the slow build up of tension over the ep felt really good and perfect, as it escalates from alexandrite being silly and goofy to. gargantuan cyberflesh horror. and how the dice were UNCANNILY perfect for it all. like. the nat 1 vs nat 20 roll for the town and suddenly the entire mood shifts and the stakes are so much realer, and personal. followed up by the nat 20 for the town! followed up by TWO callie crits and her dealing 130 DAMAGE like each turn!!!! like!!!!! AUGH... the. just the beats of it all was soo good and.
tying to that .. the character moments for this ep were so good !!! every character got their moment to shine in the battle. already discussed callie absolutely whomping fucking ass, but of course the smaller moments as well. offering to go and defend calders town. seeing the faewild sky and "i think i needed to leave to become worthy of it" - like and as the culmination of callies arc. from someone who was so scared and running away to. staying, standing, fighting, protecting. AND ITS GOOD.
then of course theres calder. i mean also the . ARC. of the only thing he wanted was not to be overprotected. wanting to be useful - like his brothers, people who had strength and value in the eyes of their people, big enough to defend their town. and he has come all the way here. he changes the tides of the battlefield in the town - and he does it with the attachments of his friends and the love of his family. and like... god. really crystalising his ethos in a way that is foiled so well against gowan. gowan who was too proud to ask for help. vs "i cant do it without you" "but damn does it feel good when your friends have your back" ... !!!! AYYEARGH. like. hes becoming the protector of his home! but maybe now, his home is so much bigger than the ice knife, and hes not fighting alone .... YOU KNOW.
AND SOL!!!!! sol to my knowledge only deals 30 damage this battle but. as a resident sol enjoyer i !!! am VERY MUCH CLAPPING AND CHEERING!! at the deeply supportive role he took on for this fight. like hes the first to get the ice knife away from alexandrite, he gives callie an extra smite, silvery barbs.... ! like the short rest realisation of how different the battle wouldve gone without that silvery barbs is .... ! SO ITS GOOD. and at the end that he was the one to get the final blow on alexandrite and it was for swag is ...
and! that part was obviously a joke! as is the entire "keep em guessing haha alexandrite cant predict what were doing!!!" thing. HOWEVER. relistening to the ezry arc, and their first interaction w alexandrite as we now know her ... i just. REALLY feel like this is the spiritual successor to "were duck team and were messy and were friends and we do everything together and we absolutely suck shit all day long and all night baby". theyre so fucking stupid is the thing. and theyre messy and stupid and constantly saying things that are weird and make no sense and completely and utterly baffling .... and thats DUCK TEAM!!! (theres also a point here where im overreading somewhat. but the part about Keepin em Guessin... one could POSSIBLY argue it interacts in a MAYBE DEEPLY INTERESTIGN WAY with . the idea of the calculated certainty of the AI, the calm and cold prediction of the diviners, and the wild freedom of the peregrines. idk!!! maybe!!! maybe you cld even say that what lies at the heart of duck team is their messiness and outofplaceness and love and care and refusal of the tragedy!!! even!! maybe!! but YEAH. lol random XD ! keep em guessin!)
also the thing that made me write all this which is like. ! the final victory lap scene is just. so wonderfully cathartic, esp with how tense this entire arc has been. its just. fuck yeah we won and all our friends and family are here and safe and riding on mammoths!!! i mean. FUCKING ALBINS BACK!!!! GREGORS HERE AND KICKIN ASS!!! THE MA GOBLIN BRIGADE!!! A WIN. and ... that bit of callie just sitting on the roof playing a guitar as she stares into the fae wild sky is ... its good.. its good..
and all that is maybe. half the reasons why ep 60 is so good. i didnt even get around to talking about the fucking EMILY AXFORD SONG WHICH IVE BEEN PLAYING NONSTOP ALL DAY SO. yeah. so i like this ep i guess
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spittyfishy · 1 month
Note
If the Pokemon world had their own "Remnants of Despair", who do you think would be in it. (Junko somehow made a portal there or something.)
Buckle up fellas this is gonna be a long one
Ooo okay that’s a super interesting thing to think about! There’s a lot of things to consider when picking remnants in this sort of context (fighting tooth and nail against the instinct to just bonk my favs with the villain au bat but I shall resist!)
I think it’s important take how the Pokémon world works into account, like having Junko just physically torture someone into despair (think Chisa) wouldn’t fly, Pokémon’s ratings as a franchised wouldn’t allow it. So I’ve only picked characters who already had something that Junko could pull on to manipulate them into despair. I also tried to get at least one person from every region! I'm not 100% certain about some of these, so I’d definitely love to hear other people’s thoughts! (And let’s see if anyone can guess which character I had the most thoughts for lol)
Kanto:
Chloe: I think I’ve talked about Chloe’s villain au potential before, but at least during the early part of the Journeys anime she fairly closed off and distant, her dad paid more attention to Goh and Ash then to her, and there were loads of instances where he put his Pokémon work above her needs and family plans.
Jessibelle: Listen, Jessie and James are too whimsical for something like this but Jessibelle was already a physically abusive gold digger lol so I’m sure Junko would have something to work with there.
Johto:
Silver: Not only is his dad a globally wanted criminal, but he also abandoned Silver when he went into hiding (I think that’s the backstory at least), and Silver has a lot of dialogue about treating Pokémon only as tools. If being a strong trainer didn’t get Giovanni’s attention, then maybe being a Remnant would.
Clair: Okay I’m going to be honest, I realized there weren’t enough girls on the list and threw Clair on last minute, but she also is super annoying in the Johto games lol. Like come on I won the battle just give me the badge!!
Hoenn:
Courtney: So in the Pokémon Masters phone game there’s a bit where Courtney is shown to really believe in the Team Magma cause and really hates Team Aqua even after everything had been resolved at the end of ORAS, so I think Junko could get her that way. Have Courtney convinced that it’s her duty to keep Team Magma’s ideals alive even if the rest of the team forgot them.
Sinnoh:
Cyrus: Cyrus failed. All that effort to create his perfect world, catching the lake spirits, scaling Mount Corinette, he got so close— Just to have it all come crashing down at the last moment. His life’s work destroyed by some kid! He already had little to no patience for humanity, so thanks to Junko’s influence fine, he’ll make this world so unbearable to live in that people will beg him to create his perfect world at last.
Saturn: Saturn will follow Cyrus anywhere, both Pokémon Masters and the Chronicles of Arceus movie showed that if the Commanders are put in a situation without Cyrus they will go to any lengths to get him back. Saturn's devotion runs deep, so if Cyrus says despair is the answer then that’s what it’ll be.
Unova:
Roxy: I’ve got nothing to justify this one with other then Junko wanted an Ibuki replacement to preform silly little despair concerts and I needed someone to rep Unova.
Kalos:
Sycamore: I’m not the first person to say Sycamore and Lysander were in love if not in a full blown relationship when everything went down in Kalos. But Lysander died, crushed under the weapon he’d risked everything to restore. The longer Sycamore goes without him the more he notices the flaws in humanity Lysander was talking about. People are selfish and greedy, look at the state of the world! Professors in Paldea nearly caused an ecological nightmare! The president of the Galar region Pokémon league almost plunged the world into eternal darkness! Not to mention what the morons over in Hoenn tried to do. If even people that were supposed to be trustworthy were causing this much chaos then there was no hope for the rest of humanity. If he could just get Lysander back, just see him one more time— tell him he’d been right, Sycamore was sorry for not seeing it sooner, that he missed him, and that if he could go back he’d have never given those kids the Pokémon that he was ultimately defeated by. If he could just get him back— if there was just some way— like if there was a big, giant, ancient machine that was capable of bringing back the dead still sitting in pieces in Geosenge Town…
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Alola:
Faba: Is anyone really surprised? Faba is a little weasel of a man and will jump ship to whoever currently holds the most power. He could be a Branch Chief again! Or even better, if he does a good enough job maybe Junko will give him the whole Aether Foundation as a reward! (She won’t, but the possibility would always be held over his head to keep him in line)
Hau: Okay but hear me out— in the Ultra games specifically Hau has a few interactions with Guzma where he taunts him about being in his grandpa’s shadow and never being able to prove himself as a strong trainer. Gladion’s dialogue reinforces this, that Hau is always too busy goofing off and never takes anything seriously. If Hau’s just stuck there, his friends surpacing him, his rivals surpacing him, the mantle of Kahuna an unattainable goal constantly hovering over him, all those expectations and the realization he’s never going to meet any of them— it might become too much to deal with.
Galar:
Rose: He was only trying to help! Why couldn’t anyone see that? Galar needed Eternatus and the dynamax particles it could make, Rose had been saving the world! They were all so ungrateful, locking him in jail for saving them, who do they think they are? He made this region into what it is today! Everyone relies on Macro Cosmos, and he ran the entire Pokémon league on top of that! That Leon would be nothing without him! It was a region of ungrateful brats. But even so, he’ll still keep working to ‘help’ them all again, you’re welcome.
Oleana: *holds up photos of Oleana and of Peko* Corporate needs you to find the difference between these two pictures. They’re the same picture.
Raihan: He had to beat him. If he just trained harder, more sandstorms, bigger dragons, if he wanted it more. Leon couldn’t be invincible, he couldn’t be, and Raihan would prove it. Turn all of Galar to a battle ground if he needed, but he was going to take down that champion once and for all.
Paldea:
Kieran: Again, no one’s surprised. Just take BB league champion Kieran and turn him up to 11, and boom. Remnant Kieran. He’s still on a hunt for a legendary Pokémon, if he can just find one of those then he’ll be strong enough to defeat anyone right!
Bonus, all the Team Star bosses: I’m thinking they’d be like the equivalent of the Warriors of Hope, not really part of the Remnants group but still very much in despair. I mean come on, a group of bullied teens like that, Junko would have a field day.
And there we go! 15 Remnants plus five Warriors of Hope! I thoroughly enjoyed this ask, I know some of the concepts were much more fleshed out then others, I almost went with Misty and Brock for Kanto (his parents abandoned him to raise all his younger siblings while being the city gym leader, and Misty was so stuck in her sister's shadow she ran away from home) but I just couldn’t do that to two of my childhood faves. (Pierce and Gladion also almost made the list).
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theitgirlnetwork · 10 months
Text
Better
Ch. 12: Welcome to the Shit Show Baby
Note: ...Heyyy...how ya'll doin? I know it's been a minute, I apologize. I hope this chapter makes up for the wait. I want to address the fact that this story is not over, I was worried my absence would give that impression, but there's still a lot that still needs to happen lol. As always, I'm thankful for all of the love and support. You guys are so sweet and make writing even more fun. Speaking of ya'll, not you guys saying yes on her behalf, damn, it's been 3 months, lol. Next chapter should be out at some point this weekend, meanwhile I hope ya'll enjoy <3 (also keep an eye out this weekend bc I'll be announcing new characters I'm gonna write for along with some sneak peaks, spoiler, one of them is my return to JJ.)
Warnings: Sexual content, explicit content, MDNI (FR FR don't make this shit weird)
Charlotte's Wedding Dress That's Not Really a Wedding Dress:
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Charlotte's Hair and Veil:
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Lip Being Hot in His Suit:
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The Flowers :') :
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Charlotte’s mouth opens and closes a couple times, no words making it out. She stares at her boyfriend, waiting for him to crack a smile, or say, ‘m’just fuckin’ kiddin’ and pull off to drive them home. Minutes pass as she watches the clock on the car tick, the changing numbers taunt her as she tries to find her words. Unfortunately, all she lets out is a breathy laugh. 
“Marryin’ me is funny?” Lip asks, cocking his head back to observe her. Charlotte places a hand on her rapidly rising and falling chest. 
“Not really, but I’m trying to see if you’re being funny.”
“M’fuckin’ serious.” he deadpans. 
“But…3 months, Phillip.” 
He shrugs, pressing another kiss to her hand. “Good enough for me. You?”
“I…” she’s shocked by the thought that crosses her mind. Good enough for me too. “But you’re not even down on one knee. And you’re asking me in front of your ex's house or party or whatever..” Charlotte pouts.
Lip’s eyes widen at that, glancing back toward the house because, well, that shit is true. “Yikes.” he chuckles at himself. “Yeah that’s pretty fucked up.” 
“Only a little.”
“If I was on one knee, and we weren’t here, would you say yes? I don’t have a nice ring, but that’ll be the first thing I’d get you-” He rambles for a moment, stopping at the sight in front of him. Charlotte’s laying her head on the headrest, big brown eyes still shining with tears, staring at him dreamily with an uneasy smile on her face. His heart felt like it good fuckin’ bust out of his chest. He’d had people look at him before. With lust, hate, even love, but the way she was looking at him right now, he could finally see what Monica saw. Like he’d hung the moon and stars. He would. If she’d keep looking at him like that. But right now, he’d settle for getting her pretty voice to give him a yes. Lip turns off the car light and puts the car into drive, speeding down the road, ignoring her questions of ‘where are we going?’ ‘What just happened?’ his leg that isn’t controlling the pedals jumping up and down as he anxiously weaves them through traffic. He drives to the only grocery store he thinks will be open and hops out of the car, running in and locking the car.
Charlotte sits in the passenger seat confused as ever. She feels high. This is crazy. She’s never done anything like this before. And when would she? Why would she? She’s 19. Won’t be 20 for another week. She’s known Phillip for 3 months. That’s how long she talked to her ex before becoming his girlfriend. Her parents don’t even know him yet. How could she agree to this?
But, how could she say no? She loves him. She’s known that almost since meeting him. She loves being around him, feeling him brings her comfort, happiness. Watching his smile reach his beautiful blue eyes makes her feel like she’d won some kind of reward. She wants to be his family. Forever. She…she wants to marry him. She guesses that nothing else fucking matters.
He comes running back with something in his hands. Charlotte squints as she tries to lean closer to the window to see. The back seat door swings open and an out of breath Lip places something inside. “Don’t turn around.”
“Wha-why? What’d you get?”
“Just-” he closes the door, getting into the driver’s side. “Listen, alright? It’ll be worth it. Trust me.”
She does.
It’s about 3 am when the car rolls to a stop again. Somehow, Charlotte had managed to fall asleep, cocked back in the seat with her head against the window, Lip’s hand on her thigh covered by both of her hands. As he pulls to a stop he squeezes her a little, gently jostling her awake. “Hi, baby,” he says softly. “We’re here.” 
She yawns, arching her back a little as she stretches, wrapping Lip’s suit jacket tighter around herself. “Where’s here?” she says groggily. 
“You’ll see, c’mon, sweetheart.” 
The couple gets out of the car, and Lip guides a staggering Charlotte to their destination. As they near it, he reaches over, guiding her head down, using her hair to cover her face. “Uh, try not to look up, bunny, hide your face.”
Charlotte shuffles her feet, following his instructions with a whine. “Aww, Phillip, are we doing something illegal?”
“Uh…no.”
“That means yes.” she huffs. She stares down at the ground as she hears the sound of clanking. She knows he’s picking some kind of lock. The metal clanks to the ground and Lip continues to guide her.
“Close your eyes, sweetheart, imma find the lights.” He says, voice getting further. “Don’t hurt yourself, just stay there ‘til m’back.”
The sounds of water starting to flow and fans blowing begin as the room turns light behind her eyelids. Charlotte feels his large, strong hands smooth their way down her arms before grabbing her hands. “Can I open now?” she asks gently.
“Yeah, baby you can open.” 
Charlotte opens her eyes to see that they’re in a lit room with a glass ceiling. Beautiful plants surrounding them all over, flowers, trees, the works. Fountains are spaced out among the plants, mimicking nature, water trickling from them. Lights sparkle as they hang from the ceiling and in front of her is what she could only believe is the love of her life, holding a bouquet of flowers, trying to kick the little sign that said ‘Sweet 16’ that he’d plucked off behind him. “Where are we?”
“It’s uh, the Garfield Park Conservatory. I’d read about it before, and I knew I wanted to take you here…but they’re obviously closed right now. And I didn’t want people in our fucking business. And uh…pickin’ locks is free.” he jokes, letting out a wet chuckle.
“You know when we’re married you’re gonna have to slow down on doing things that’ll get you arrested.” She manages something between a laugh and a sob. Charlotte already knows she must look insane with the amount she’s cried in the past few hours. She takes one of her hands back trying to wipe her face and comb her fingers through her hair.
“You look beautiful, Charlotte.” Lip says, commanding her full attention with the intensity in his eyes. “And I love you, more than I’ve ever managed to love anyone or anything. I really, really didn’t think I was capable of feeling like this. Or having someone as good as you. And I’m gonna fuck it up, like all the time. But m’askin’ you to marry me anyway.”
“Yes.” she whispers, not even getting a second to finish before he’s dropping her flowers and snatching her into his arms. She cups his face and closes the distance between them and meets him in an intense kiss. “I love you.” she smiles against his lips.
“Love you.” He says between pecks. When they finally give each other some air, Lip turns her and starts guiding her to the door, grabbing her flowers on the way, tickling her and whispering jokes in her ear as they go. “Alright, you agreed, that shit is binding. I gotta get you to the courthouse before you change your mind.”
Judge Hanes is very well acquainted with the Gallagher family. He’s overseen many of their legal proceedings in both juvenile and adult court. And once, Frank Gallagher had pissed on his brand new Porsche after he’d awarded the man’s opponent restitution. So to say he was aggravated to find the eldest Gallagher boy in front of the courthouse, asleep on a bench with a young lady under his arm, is an understatement. He stops in front of the pair with a heavy sigh and an already forming headache. “Phillip Gallagher.”
The young man opens his eyes, squinting before his lips spread into a smug smile. “Mornin’ Keith.”
“It’s Judge Hanes to you, boy.”
The girl next to him stirs awake, rubbing at her eyes tiredly. “Good morning, Judge Hanes. Nice to meet you. I’m Charlotte.” She looks about his middle-daughter’s age, pretty, clean-cut. He couldn’t imagine why she was here with Lip Gallagher.
“Nice to meet you too, dear. What’s got you at this old courthouse this early? Child support enforcement?” He cuts his eyes back to Lip. “A protective order?”
“No, I feel perfectly safe, with my fiancé, actually.” The blond snarks, pulling the girl to him and kissing her temple. “We came to get married. Looks like you’re gonna marry us.”
Well he’ll be damned. Keith Hanes never thought he’d see the day. He almost believes this is some kind of grift. A scam he’s running on this poor girl. But from the look in Gallagher’s eyes, even Keith could see this was legit. He almost feels bad for what he has to tell them. “No can do.”
“What?” Charlotte looks to Lip.
“Why the fuck not? I mean it-isn’t it like your civic duty or some shit?”
Keith cocks his head challenging Lip's tone. “Thought you were supposed to be the smart one Gallagher.”
“Yeah, well, I’m more into the sciences, so I haven’t taken much time to learn the inner workings of your crooked ass system-”
“Phillip, please.” Charlotte interjects, placing her hand on his chest. Keith is surprised to see that it actually calms the boy, making him intertwine their fingers and quieting down. “Sir, we really wanna get married. We came all of the way here, and we love each other so much, it’s really important to us. Please.”
Keith sighs, looking down at a sweet little pout that reminded him so much of his own children. “I really am sorry kids. Courthouse is closed today, only doing jury trials because the clerks are rotating. No peace orders, divorce hearings or marriages. I can write you two up a certificate myself, but beyond that, I suggest you try a church and hope they’re willing to do it today.”
He watches as the couple looks at each other somberly. Charlotte rests her cheek on Lip’s shoulder, disappointment evident on their faces. Keith watches them share their disappointment and notices how they comfort each other. The girl smoothing her hand up and down his arm, the boy murmuring against the crown of her head, ‘if not today, then tomorrow.’ This isn’t the Lip Gallagher who’s been in and out of his courthouse. He’d absently thought that it had been a while since he’d been in trouble and now he could see why. He could applaud him for allowing love to turn his life around. 
“I am about to be very kind this morning, please do not make me regret it.” Keith unlocks the doors and looks back at the pair. “Don’t tell your siblings I did this, I know your brood likes to marry every other week.” 
“Sure won’t, sir.” 
“And don’t screw this up, pretty young ladies like this don’t fall out of the sky.” 
“Yeah we don’t.” Charlotte jokes, pushing Lip with her hip, his only response being rolling his eyes and dragging her to him. 
“Alright alright, follow me.”
And Charlotte plans to, she really does. But for some reason, when Judge Hanes and Lip go to move, her feet remain planted on the cobblestone steps of the courthouse, her lack of movement pulling Lip to a stop by their intertwined fingers. “Babe?”
The woman breathes deeply as she looks up the steps. Being with Lip means a lot of things. Fun, passion, anger, joy, adventure, risk, love and family. How could they do this without their family? “Your Honorableness-” she begins.
Judge Hanes shares a glance with Lip who shakes his head, encouraging him to keep quiet. 
“If we came back in a couple of hours with our family, would you still be here? I…we need them. Please?” 
Well..Keith didn’t feel like watching his grandson lose his soccer game again anyway. “Four hours to get your…clan together. Then I’m going home.” 
“Yay! Thank you!” She chirps, bouncing on her feet a little before throwing her arms around the older man, beaming at him before running down the steps back to the car. Lip places his hands in his pockets, watching her run excitedly with a soft smile on his face.
He tenses when he feels a heavy arm over his shoulders, a rough hand patting his arm. “Prove me wrong, Mr. Gallagher.” Judge Hanes says. “This may be something good. Try not to fuck it up.”
“I uh, I won’t.”
“Good morning Liam.” Charlotte hums, smoothing her hand over the little boy’s cheek. “Guess what?”
“Lottie!” he coos as she lifts him out of his toddler bed into her arms. He giggles as she bounces him on her hip. She and Lip had rushed back to the Gallagher house, thrumming with energy. Everyone would have to get on board for this wedding quickly because of the time crunch and they decided to make it feel as ceremonial as possible with the circumstances. Lip changed out of the suit he was wearing into the one he’d worn at one of Fiona’s attempts at marriage. Charlotte kept the bouquet he’d offered her in the car and quietly snuck into Kev and V’s house, rifling through her bags and producing a white dress she’d brought. It wasn’t a wedding dress but it’d do. 
In the interest of time and not getting their idea immediately shot down, they decided to start collecting the younger Gallagher siblings first. “We’ve got a big surprise.” she mumbles against his cheek, kissing it over and over as she walks through the hall. She bumps into Lip who catches her by the waist, leaning down, blowing a raspberry into Liam’s other cheek. 
“You ready?”
Charlotte nods and Lip knocks on Debbie’s bedroom door before opening it. The redheaded girl is splayed out on her bed, blankets half kicked off, snoring lightly. Lip eases into the room, sitting on the bed next to her, shaking her softly. “Hey, Debs.”
“Hm.” she rolls a little, squinting up at him. “What? What time is it?”
“Uh, it’s about 8.” 
“And why are you bothering me?” She groans, kicking her feet at his stomach.
“Deb’s watch it, don’t get it dirty.” Lip says, catching her foot.
The younger girl frowns, opening her eyes fully and taking in her brother’s appearance. “Why the hell are you wearing that?” When he laughs and looks behind him she follows his gaze to the doorway. “Charlotte, you look so pretty! Can I borrow that dress?”
“Sure, Debbie.” the woman smiles, coming into the room to join them. “But right now, we need to ask you a question. How would you feel about getting another sister?”
“Damn it, Frank knocked someone up?”
“No, jesus, Debs, m’gonna marry Charlotte. Today. And we want you to be in it.”
Debbie all but shoves Lip out of the way, hugging Charlotte tightly before grabbing the hand that isn’t holding Liam. “Help me pick out a dress?”
Carl was less enthused by the whole idea. Dangling the concept of Charlotte being his sister was less appealing to him and he ultimately refused to come until Lip promised him some illegal fireworks that he hadn’t been able to score on his own. 
Ian and Mickey had been the most fun to tell. Lip barged into their room, earning a groan from Ian and a loud grumble of ‘what the fuck?’ from Mickey. The couple stared at Lip and Charlotte, taking in their attire.
“What the fuck do you two idiots have on?” Mickey asks, wiping his face. He locks eyes with the woman, raising his eyebrows for a moment before his lips spread into a wide smile that matches her own. “Oh, shit! C’mere you crazy bitch.” He’s out of the bed and picking her up, hoisting her over his shoulder as she squeals and giggles. “What the hell kind of pussy have you been puttin’ on him?”
“Shit.” Ian echoes, pulling his brother into a tight hug. “Congratulations man, seriously. When…?”
“Today, get your suit on, motherfucker.” 
“Shit!” Ian beams, clapping a hand on Lip’s back.
“You see this shit, Red?” Mickey calls back to his boyfriend. “The bar is fuckin’ high, even your shithead brother is puttin’ a ring on it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ian snorts, his arm still around Lip’s neck, keeping him close. “M’workin’ on it.”
“My ass.”
The group is so wrapped in their celebration they don’t even hear a tired Fiona make her way into the doorway. Sleep on her face, still clad in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear, she stands prepared to curse them from waking her when she’d just worked the night shift. The brunette’s eyes widen as she takes in the scene in front of her. Charlotte, wearing a white dress, tossed over Mickey’s shoulder. Lip is wearing his best suit (he only has two that he rotates for weddings, jobs and funerals), lighting a blunt, the good shit they keep for graduations and when Monica leaves. Ian buttoning his dress shirt. Fuck. She thinks, crossing her arms. “Pregnant?”
Lip straightens, blunt still hanging from his mouth. “No.”
“And you’re sure?” she asks. “Both of you?” 
“Yes.” Charlotte responds, offering Fiona a hesitant smile as Mickey puts her down. She goes over to Lip, slipping her hand into his. “So sure.”
Fiona rolls her eyes to the ceiling, whispering, ‘fuck’ under her breath before leaving the room. Lip clenches his jaw, looking away, taking a deep drag of the blunt as Charlotte rubs his arm, and Ian pats his back. He and Fiona fight like cats and dogs, but she’s his big sister. She’s supported him through everything, he’d thought she’d support him through this. 
Moments later Fiona returns, tugging a blue dress down her legs and holding something white in her hands. She silently makes her way over to Charlotte, lifting what Lip and Ian recognized as her veil she never fully got to use, clipping it to the top of Charlotte’s head. “There. Now, you look like a bride. A sexy Vegas bride, but a bride. And I better be a bridesmaid.” Lip tugs his sister into a hug, making her stumble, rubbing her back. 
“Um, thanks.” he says into her shoulder.
She sniffs in response, pushing him off. “Yeah, yeah, let me hit that blunt, this is gonna be a shit show.”
Once everyone’s dressed, the group makes their way next door, Lip and Charlotte stand in front of the door, ringing the bell because she did have her keys, the only thing in her hands being the flowers he’d given her. 
“Yeah, I’m comin’!” Kev yells through the door, pushing it open and eyes bulging at the sight in front of him. “Holy shit. V!”
“What?” she calls from further in the house. “Yelling so early the damn morning. What’s the fucking problem-holy shit.” 
V eyes her cousin, staring her down. Charlotte straightens, her stance steady but her face withering a little under V’s gaze. Everyone else watches as the two women share a silent conversation, the elder, putting her hands on her hips, eyebrows raised, the younger squeezing her boyfriend…fiance’s hand as she maintains eye contact. V cocks her head to the side expectantly turning to go back in the house and Charlotte follows, releasing Lip’s hand. 
The two women climb the steps up to Kev and V’s room and Charlotte quietly gestures for Lip not to follow. When they get in the room, V pulls her pajama shirt off, grabbing a pink dress off of a hanger. “This is what you wanna do?”
“Yes. I love him.” Charlotte says, sitting on the bed. 
“It’s gonna be really hard, Lottie. You know that?”
“I know.”
V turns and Charlotte zips her dress for her. “And your parents?”
Charlotte bites her lip at that. She’s startled to realize that she hadn’t even considered them being there. They weren’t who she thought of when she said they needed to go get family. She loves them, but this, the life she made here, has nothing to do with them. They’d ruin it. “It’s not about them. But you’re here.”
“Hell yeah, I am.” V says kissing her little cousin’s cheek. “Well, if we’re gonna do this, you need to complete the outfit.” She reaches in her drawer, producing her lacey, white garter, tossing it to Charlotte. 
“Um…I love you…and thanks, but...when was the last time you washed this and has it been in Kev's mouth?”
When the group was finally complete, they head out of the house, trying to figure out how to stuff everyone into Kev’s car without fucking up their dress clothes. As they stuffed Carl, Debbie and Liam into the back, everyone else was arguing about who should have to squeeze into the middle. 
“Well, I’m literally the bride, so-”
“This is my fucking car!” 
“Princess doesn’t even need a seat, she’s used to bein’ in fuckhead’s lap.”
As they fuss over the spots, Frank stumbles his way down the street, seeing his family decked out in dress clothes he makes his way over, plucking the blunt out of Ian’s hand. “Good morning family. Who died?”
“Lip and Charlotte are getting married, Daddy!” Debbie calls from inside of the car. 
Frank gasps dramatically, clutching his chest before clapping a hand onto the back of Lip’s neck, only to have it slapped off. “My eldest son! Why didn’t you say anything? Look how I’m dressed! Charlotte, looking vivacious as ever.”
Lip’s mouth curl’s in disgust as he tugs her behind him. “You’re not invited, Frank.” 
“What? I’m your father. How could you not have me at your first wedding?” Frank slurs, “Besides, I think you’ll regret not inviting Daddy when you see the gift he got you.”
“How the hell does he have a gift, he just found out.” Fiona murmurs to V.
“I’m trying to figure out what gift his broke ass could afford.” 
They watch tiredly as Frank stumbles behind the house, the sound of glass shattering ringing out, followed by a bunch of rumbling. When Frank comes back he makes his way over to his elder son, slapping two small items into his hands. “See if I’m invited now.”
Lip opens his hands to see two rings, one plain gold band and one with a small diamond in the middle. 
“What the fuck?” Fiona says, getting a closer look. “Where the hell did you get these?”
“These are my and Monica’s rings from our first wedding.”
“And you haven’t pawned them?” Ian asks.
Frank shrugs, “They’re sentimental.”
“You’ve sold Liam.”
“I was gonna get him back! Do you want them or not?” 
Lip looks over to Charlotte, “Bunny?”
The woman smiles, running a finger over the rings before nodding. “We could always have them blessed to…you know, get rid of any bad juju.” 
“Alright.” Lip says, giving her a peck before turning to get in the car. “Move out, people, let’s go.” As everyone piles in he looks at Frank sighing at them, running his dirty hands over each other. “Fuck.” he breathes, dropping his head forward on Charlotte’s shoulder as she sits in his lap. “Come the fuck on Frank.”
“Fantastic.”
Keith Hanes checks his watch one more time before shaking his head and standing from his desk. He’d given them extra time, tried to get some work done and called his wife while he waited. But time was up, he’d waited all that he could. As he turns the lights out and begins to lock up, he tsks at himself disappointedly. Of course it was a load of shit. He’s a Gallagher.
The older man turns the key, locking the second door of his office, certificate of marriage in his hand. He was a fool to even draft it up as he waited. Just as he goes to crumple the paper he hears what sounds like a stampede of feet running in the marble halls.
“Hey! Shit-” Keith turns to find the young couple sprinting over with the entire Gallagher clan (and one Milkovich) behind them. Lip slipping slightly before catching his balance as he and Charlotte round the corner. “We’re here. Made it.”
“You’re 30 minutes late.”
The blond runs a hand through his disheveled hair, running the other up and down the bare skin of his fianceé’s arm. “Is that uh, is that ours?” he asks, nodding his head toward the certificate.
“Well, yes-”
“Ah! Phillip!” Charlotte squeals, bouncing and squeezing his arm.  Lip twists his lips, attempting to contain his own smile as they essentially bum rush the judge back into the room. The young couple follow Keith over to his desk, still wrapped up in each other , exchanging pecks as they murmur excitedly to themselves. 
“Uh uh, if I’m gonna get my ass beat by my mama for letting you do this, we’re gonna do this right so we can at least get some pictures on the phone. Move-” V pushes Lip back by his chest, separating the pair before wrapping her manicured nails around Charlotte’s wrist. “C’mon little girl. One second judge.” 
Fiona shrugs at the bride as V rearranges the room, ushering Carl, Ian and Mickey to stand behind Lip and instructing Fiona and Debbie to go out into the hallway. Frank stumbles his way over, looping his dirty arm with Charlotte’s free one. “Frank, watch her fuckin’ dress.” Ian hisses as Lip’s brows furrow. “Fuck are you doin’ Frank?”
The older man frowns as his two eldest sons. “I’m-” he burps, “obviously going to be walking my new daughter down the aisle.”
Lip’s eyes immediately catch his girl’s as the brown pools widen. He could tell that she didn’t want that. This was gonna be a big moment, shit, he wouldn’t want to remember it with Frank either. Hell, he’s his dad and he planned to push him as far back as possible, he was lucky to be in the fuckin’ room. But he knows that his sweet girl knows he has complicated feelings toward his father. Hatred. Disgust. Humiliation. But the fucker was still in his blood. He couldn’t fully shake him. Lip knows Charlotte won’t outwardly protest Frank being part of this special moment that he was going to bust his ass to make sure is her only walk down an aisle. Not in front of his little siblings. Not when she’s not sure how he feels about it. “Yeah, fuck that, Frank, go sit down.”
“Well isn’t this fuckin’ something? I don’t happen to see her father here, steppin’ up. I’m welcoming her into the Gallagher family-”
“Sit the fuck down, Frank.” Lip grits, clenching his fists. This shit was not gonna happen. He was not gonna come in here, and bumble his way into ruining his wedding. He’d seen him do it to Fiona, he was not gonna do it to Lip. To Charlotte.  
“What? You get a little pussy and you’re a tough guy now?”
“Frank-” the blond steps forward, veins in his arm twitching with how tightly he was clenching his fists. Mickey not far behind him, waiting for someone to throw a punch so he could get his lick in, he was still mad at Frank from the last time he broke Ian’s nose, but he’d promised his boyfriend he wouldn't get arrested this month and they were fucking literally in a courthouse in front of a judge.
“He’s right.” Charlotte intercepts, shaking the older man’s arm off. She pats her free hand softly on her fiance’s cheek. “My dad isn’t here. But, Kev is. That’s what people do right? If your dad can’t do it your brother does?”
“Oh shit-” Kev huffs, using his arm to cover his face.
“Um…are you crying?”
“No, m’not fuckin’ cryin’, Lottie, come the fuck on-” He says, planting his hands on her shoulders and steering her the rest of the way out of the door.
Frank scoffs as he watches them. “Well just fuck me then.”
Lip doesn’t believe in fairytales. Or happy endings. True love, none of that shit. He’s always believed in what life has shown him. Fucking struggle basically. Bad shit with a little drop of happiness slipped in there before shit really hits the fan. Just enough good that he doesn’t just say fuck it and give up. That good usually came in the form of something with his siblings, finding some money, or getting his dick wet. 
Then Charlotte came. And those little moments of goodness, happiness starting happening more frequently. They came with the smiles she offered him, plump lips spreading, cheeks dimpling. They came with her soft hands, in his rougher ones, running through his hair cupping his face, touching him. It came with her laughter. Loud giggles that often ended with gasps and slaps on his arm and stomach. And still…with him getting his dick wet…but with her. 
All of that was great. Amazing. 
But this shit right here. He’d never known that it could get this good. Like, they’re in a courtroom/clerk’s office in the courthouse in which he’d had many things expunged from his record as a juvenile. Where he’d been dragged into foster care, group homes, what the fuck ever else by CPS. 
All of that went away watching Charlotte Fisher come down the aisle. It’s not even a fucking aisle. The walk from the doorway is too short. His blue eyes scan her hastily as she slowly makes her way, wanting to catch everything, capture every inch of her. He wants to commit this shit to memory. For when things get hard. He knows shit will never be this good again. This is it. He’s peaked. From her legs, up her body, the way the dress fit. The way her hair falls perfectly. And her face…her face he had to save for last. Because she’s doing it again. Looking at him like he’s something. Like he’s everything. He didn’t know you could feel love from a look like that. If he had the mental capacity at the time, he’d wonder what he must look like looking at her. Probably desperate. Needy. I mean, fuck it, he is. 
Lip hadn’t even realized he wasn’t breathing until she’s directly in front of him, leaning her forehead against his, the thin, sheer veil over her face the only thing separating him. The white fabric only making her look even more angelic. “You think your sister is gonna kill me for getting makeup on her veil?” she whispers with a giggle.
Phillip Gallagher is an all encompassing experience. You could laugh at Charlotte if you want to, she loves her man. A lot. So much so that after having a screaming match in front of his ex's house, trekking through mud, and one of the first things he’d ever said to her being ‘wanna bang one out’ she was here. In a white dress. And his sister’s veil. Getting married after like 3 months. And she’s fucking gassed.
She knew what she was signing up for. Chaos. Crazy. Gallagher. That’s fine. Phillip’s here. The consequences of dealing with her own family and friends from home barely cross her mind. All she could think of is intense blue eyes. She loves his eyes. She loves Phillip. He makes her happy. Before she’d come here, she’d thought she was content. She thought the only thing she was missing was independence. She didn’t know that this kind of joy existed. And she didn’t know she could care about someone else’s happiness like she cares about Phillip’s. He’s only 20. But life had already been so rough on him. It makes her sad, sometimes, the dark circles under his eyes, watching him bitterly light a cigarette and roughly tug at his beautiful curls when he’s stressed. Seeing his jaw clench when he sees another little kid wearing new shoes as his siblings walk around in used ones, or some guy gifting his girlfriend with something expensive. Charlotte wants to get rid of those looks. She wants to make life easier for him. To cater to him.
If V heard that she’d probably fucking vomit before slapping the shit out her. Her friends from home would think this was just people pleaser Charlotte, being tricked by some guy again. But this is different. She knows Phillip loves her.
She can feel it. To her core.  She can see it, in his eyes, essentially gazing into her soul as he looks at her intently. She can hear it, in the vow he makes to her.
“I’m gonna take fuckin’ care of you, Bunny.” 
She hears Judge Hansen sigh at the statement, probably shocked that the vow was so singular. So abrupt. 8 words and one of them was fuckin’.
To Charlotte, it was short and sweet. Meaningful.
“And I’m” she giggles wetly through her tears, her shaking hands in his larger, steadier ones. “Gonna make you so fuckin’ happy, Bubba.”
“You may now kiss the bride-”
“Fuckin’ finally.” Lip breathes, tugging Charlotte to him by the waist and capturing her lips. He leans into her with so much force she’d have stumbled back if his grip on her wasn’t so strong. Charlotte throws her arms around his neck, pressing even closer as their lips continue to meet, blissfully unaware of everyone around them. 
“Jesus, Gallagher, you’re not supposed to fuckin’ swallow her.” Mickey calls from behind them. Lip smiles into the kiss, pecking her lips one more time before pulling back, only to be pulled back in.
“Yes he is.” she grins, nudging his nose with hers and squealing as he picks her up, spinning her around.
“Alright, you got the music baby?” Kev calls as he makes his way behind the bar, pulling out shot glasses, lining them up on the wooden bar and preparing to pour. 
“On it.”
Lip finishes carrying Charlotte in on his back, refusing to carry her in bridal style because ‘this dingy ass bar isn’t our home’ but giving into her whining that her feet hurt and she didn’t want to get them dirty on the sidewalk. He plops her down on one of the stools and walks between her legs, rubbing his hands along her thighs, kissing her. “‘Makin’ you a spoiled brat.”
“Yeah? You married me?” she smiles against his lips. “That’s so cool.”
“Yeah, it fuckin’ is.” 
Wrapping her arm around his neck she lets him rest his head in hers, turning to Ian, “Okay, okay, flirt with me.”
The redhead snorts, leaning his elbows back against the bar. “Hey sexy, let me buy you a drink.”
“Ah! Nope, m’married!” she laughs, waving her left hand in his face, ignoring the tickling feeling of Lip’s breathy laughter on her skin. 
Fiona makes her way in, she’d just dropped the younger three kids off at Sheila’s so that they could fully celebrate at the Alibi without worrying about them. She pulls Charlotte from her younger brother’s embrace, pressing her lips to the girl’s cheeks. “Mwah, welcome to the shitshow baby, m’just happy to have a sister in law I can fuckin’ stand. He had shit taste before.” She laughs, shoving her brother’s shoulder. “Now, lets toast to the happy fucking couple.” her eyes lock with Lip’s and she gives him a crooked smile. “Seriously. Really fucking happy for you.”
Everybody has seen Lip fucked up before. Depending on the mood he was in, he could be fun as hell or he could look like Frank Jr. And everyone had seen Charlotte off her ass. She was…less reserved than usual. So, thank God Kev had flipped the closed sign before the shots started rolling. 
“Alright, alright man! You been under there long enough!” Kev calls, slapping Lip’s back. The younger man just chuckles as he climbs back from between his bride’s legs, garter dangling from his teeth. 
“No he hasn’t!”
“Charlotte!”
“She’s married, Kev.” V says, elbowing her own husband before grabbing her cousin’s hand, “One more drink.”
“One more!” Charlotte cheers, stumbling over to the bar and kneeling so her cousin can pour directly from the bottle into her mouth before pouring it into her own. “Baby, dance with me.”
“Lip doesn’t dance.” Fiona snorts, downing her own drink, coughing as she watches her brother obediently stand, going to sway with his new…shit wife. It’s so weird. Watching her little brother be a husband. Slow dancing with the young woman in front of him, despite the loud base of the fast paced music. The sloppy, drunken kissing and his hand on her ass was very on brand for her brother. But the soft smiles in between, and the thumb, sweeping softly over the girl’s cheek, that was new.
“Looks good on him doesn’t it?” Ian asks, resting his arm on his sister.
“Yeah. It does.” 
Mickey sidles up next to the siblings, following their gaze. “Cute.” he pats Ian’s hip before stumbling away, his drink sloshing in glass. “But I better get a real fuckin’ wedding.”
“Don’t get used to this, alright, it’s only because it’s your wedding night.” Fiona calls from Kev and V’s stoop. “And clean up after yourselves.” She watches as Lip lifts a yelping Charlotte off of the ground, stumbling backward a little himself before kicking the door open. She sighs, as it slams shut and turns to V. “Your family is gonna kill us, huh?”
“Oh yeah, we’re dead.”
The newlyweds can't concern themselves with anything but each other at the next house over.
“Okay so,” Lip begins between the heated kisses he’s placing on Charlotte’s neck. “Where do you wanna go first, cause this is the only time my family is ever gonna be cool enough to give us the house.”
His head swims as Charlotte’s hand tugs at the hair at the nape of his neck, her legs hooked around his waist as she drags his lips to hers, speaking against his mouth. “I wanna go where you wanna go.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh huh.”
“C’mon baby.” He breathes before connecting their lips fully, hoisting her, gripping her ass as he walks them up the stairs. He pushes his…their bedroom door open. Charlotte starts giggling, kicking her feet lightly as she adjusts herself in his arms. “What’s funny?”
“You chose our bedroom?” she snorts, pulling back a little to look at him.
“So fuckin’ what? Why’s it funny?”
Charlotte cocks her head to the side, her hair had fallen down hours ago from the dancing she’d done with Fiona and V. “I mean, you’re just the same guy who’s always like,” she clears her throat and tries and fails to make her voice deeper. “Baby, m’so horny let me fuck you in this dirty bathroom, stop being so prissy. Bunny, Kev won’t even be able to tell if I eat your pussy in the car, nobody’s home, lemme bend you over the couch-” she squeaks when he slaps her ass before dumping her onto the bed.
“Fuckin’ brat, I was trying to be nice to you today.”
“Aww,” she pouts, “is that why you wanna do it the ‘boring’ way, like you call it.”
Lip’s gaze softens as he stares down at the woman splayed out on his bed, smiling up at him. “Yeah,” he all but whispers, smoothing his thumb over her cheek, dragging it down her lips and to her jaw, “and, uh, I wanna look at my wife’s pretty face.”
Charlotte settles, catching his hand with hers before he can pull it back, placing it fully on her cheek and leaning into it. “I love you.”
“I fucking love you.” he huffs out, before climbing on top of her and capturing her lips. 
This was nowhere near their first time. Like at all. Much to the chagrin of their families, Lip and Charlotte fuck at least 1-2 times a day. But this was something else entirely. They took turns quietly undressing each other, Charlotte taking the time to undo each of Lip’s buttons, Lip running his fingers along her spine as he unzips her zipper. Never straying far from each other, lips either melded together, or close, sharing air.
Charlotte’s fingers flex in blond curls as he settles between her legs, blue eyes staring at her intently, watching for every reaction, as he moans into her core. He only gets to taste her for a moment before she was whining for him to come up, wrapping her legs around him as he settles back on top of her. The couple shares a gasp as he pushes into her, the only sounds filling the air, the soft creaking of the old bed to the rhythm of his slow thrusts and the quiet moans they share. 
Lip fights to keep his eyes open despite their impulse to roll closed, desperately taking in her face as he rocks into her, one hand holding her leg, the other exploring her face, his thumb dips into her mouth for a moment, pulling a sound from her that has him chasing it to her lips, kissing her deeply, guiding her tongue along his, 
After a moment he drops his head next to hers, pressing his mouth to his ear. “Fucking love you.” Charlotte only gasps in response as his movements get rougher despite maintaining their slow pace. Her hand gripping at his arms as she tightens around him. “Yeah? You like that? You like hearing how much I love you?” Her cry only fuels him, his own mouth falling open briefly as he breathes against her neck. “I love you more than anything and now you’re mine. Say it.”
When all she offers him is a whine, Lip tightens his grip on her jaw slightly, leaning back up and pushing their foreheads together, looking down at her. “Did you hear me?”
“I…I’m yours.”
“That’s right, baby. M’gonna make you so fuckin’ happy. Gonna get you a real fuckin’ house. Gonna be such a good husband for you, bunny. Take care of you.”
“M’gonna take care of you too.” she whispers, arching up to kiss him again, trailing her lips against his cheek.
“God damnit-” he groans, reaching down between them to rub along her clit, feeling her start to spasm around him. “Fuck fuck fuck. C’mon baby.” His grip on her tightens as she climaxes, squirming in his arms as he commits her cries to memory, wanting to hear that sound play on loop in his brain. Lip brings both of his hands to her hips, gripping tightly as he pins her to the bed, as he picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming sloppy. “Fuck, Charlotte, tell me you love me.”
Through her haze, Charlotte calms enough to focus her vision on her husband, truly hearing his plea, seeing it in his eyes as he waits. How could she not? “I love you, Phillip Gallagher.”
Lip moans loudly, his hands tightening impossibly around her as he buries his face in her neck to bury the sound, but she hears it anyway. She feels as he empties himself into her and rubs her hands along his back as he settles on top of her, brushing wet curls away from his face when he finally comes up to press soft, persistent pecks onto her lips.
After a few minutes he pushes off and out of her, despite her demands that he stay where he was, and tosses her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “C’mon Mrs. Gallagher, we gotta make sure you don’t get a UTI.” 
“Romantic.”
“Shut up, I’m plenty romantic.”
“In what way?” she scoffs as he plops her down on the toilet and leans against the sink, not even offering her the decency of looking away while she pees. “Hey, you wanna get married tomorrow?” she mocks. 
Lip smirks down at her, flicking her forehead. “You’re gonna stop mockin’ me, you don’t like it when I do it to you.”
“I don’t care when you mock me.” she pouts, crossing her arms.
“Oh, fuck, Phillip-” he whines loudly, laughing between his mocking whimpers as he starts tugging her hands away from where they’re covering her ears. “I’m yours, Phillip, please-” he continues for a moment before quietly trailing off, running the rough pads of his fingers along her collarbone, following his own movement with his eyes, starting a trail down to her breasts.
“You just turned yourself on, didn’t you?” 
“Yeah.” he shrugs, leaning back on the sink again. “You gonna let me fuck you in the shower?”
Lip sleepily reaches over, grabbing the ringing phone from the bedside table, pressing it to his ear as he smooths a hand down Charlotte’s spine, hoping not to wake her. He was proud of his handiwork, her hair was a mess, she was gonna throw a fit when she woke up and realized she didn’t cover it, but it didn’t matter, they’d sweated it out the night before anyway. Her body is littered with hickeys, her ass still warm and red. He had matching love bites of his own and he was sure his back was red with scratch marks with the pleasant sting he feels. 
“Charlotte? Hello?” a man’s voice burns in Lip’s ears as his blue eyes shoot open. He pushes off of the bed, stepping onto the wooden floor, body already tense.
“Who the fuck is this?” he growls into the phone, his change in tone causing the woman to stir.
The voice sounds affronted, meeting his anger with its own. “No, who the hell is this?”
“Her fucking husband, your turn dickhead.” He grits, Charlotte shooting up behind him, waving her hands and trying to wrestle the device out of his hands pleading ‘hang up, hang up, hang up-’ “Her fucking father, young man. I win. Now can I speak to my daughter?”
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goblin-iz-whack · 3 days
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Terri Pines
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(Picrew by @potatolordofficial, hand drawn art by myself)
Yup, I made a Gravity Falls oc.
Teresa Ann "Terri" Pines (Née Ross) was born on February 14th, 1954 to Virginia and Howard Ross in Newark, New Jersey. She was the middle child and only girl of five children (Her brothers are Warren, Clarence, Leroy, and Seymour).
She was a pageant girl, her family lived pretty much solely off of the prize money she won.
She went to school for cosmetology in '72 (Her parents were not thrilled, they expected her to find a rich bachelor instead) and graduated in 1973 (Apparently, cosmetology school programs are pretty short!) . The money she earned doing what she loved wasn't good enough for her family and so she left home in 1974.
She drifted around, using her looks and charms to steal and con people, and met Stanley Pines in 1980. He was getting hassled by the police and she was like "Guess I'll use up my one good deed for the year" and helped out by pretending to be his wife ("Oh, honey, I've been looking for you everywhere! Sorry 'bout that, officer-"), and he evaded arrest.
Seeing her con artist ways and good looks, Stan was convinced that this was his dream woman- He tried to woo her for a bit, but she wasn't interested.
Because she's gay.
Even so, the convenience of having somebody that you can pretend is your partner worked for both of them, so they just went with it and slummed around the U.S., cartels and scams galore, what a wild ride.
Stuff went downhill, they were out of money and cons, when they were contacted by Stanford Pines.
You know the story from here.
Terri was kinda just waiting in the car when the portal incident happened, Stan came outside looking like he wanted to vomit and explained (through a very shaky voice) what happened.
They hid out in the house before running out of food, yada yada, Lazy Susan's eye is zapped, Stan takes Ford's name, fakes his death, you know what happens. Terri knows about the portal and all of Stan's secrets, she's his confidant and best friend.
In 1985, Stan and Terri got married. Partially because of the tax benefits, partially because they wanted the money and gifts that came with a wedding (Also, marital law says you can't be forced to testify against your spouse. Convenient!). Caryn Pines came to the wedding but Filbrick didn't (Fuck you, Filbrick). Terri's family also came but left pretty fast when they didn't get a hand out.
In 2013, Dipper and Mabel came to Gravity Falls. Terri is their Grauntie, she loves those kids. She also takes a motherly role towards Wendy, despite being pretty different in personality.
Terri is very similar to Stan, rough around the edges and always looking to make a buck, this is why he thought he was in love with her lol. She is a beauty queen, her pageant roots and love for cosmetology has always influenced her significantly. She is desperately trying to stall the effects of age (Hard to do that since she's 60 during the show), hence the spray tan and makeup and the hair dye. She also wears a corset (ooh la la!) and likes to join in on makeovers with Mabel and her friends.
She's also pretty badass- She has a lipstick taser and packs a mean punch. Being on the streets for so long has left her rugged and a bit grizzled and we love her for it.
A very motherly lady, she always wanted children of her own but the time was never right (Stan wouldn't mind being a donor, so long as he gets to skip out on any child support-). Wendy and the mystery twins fill that gap, she gets to mother them to her hearts content.
I will write up some unique episodes that center on her eventually, but it's 1 am rn and I need to get this done-
In Roadside Attraction, Terri flirts with Darlene alongside Stan. She's chill when Darlene only responds to Stan, she's a good wingwoman. It's also implied at some point that she went out with Lazy Susan before.
She was arrested alongside Stan in Not What He Seems, and escaped alongside him, also trying to stop Mabel from pressing the button.
Okay now here is where I deviate from canon pretty majorly-
So, I guess you'd say that Terri's whole existence in itself is an au. At first glance, the only difference would be her being there and extra interactions. That'd be wrong-
I know that the tweet about Ford being transfem was fake, but I still really love the headcanon. I headcanon Dipper as being transmasc and Ford being transfem would further the parallels between them without just making them a copy of each other.
So yeah, Ford is transfem here. She discovered it in the portal ("The author of the journals...my...sister??"). She chooses the name Nicole, after Nikola Tesla.
Back to Terri and how she changes the series!!
Mabel and Dipper are pretty shocked that she knew everything, they're definitely mad as well. This is also the reveal that Stan and Terri are only really married for legal reasons.
Here's that reveal, written out:
Stan: -and then me and Terri got married. But we're just friends with benefits.
Dipper and Mabel: *Disgust*
Terri: What? The tax benefits! Duh!
Nicole addresses her briefly but the rest of the episode pretty much goes on as normal except for the ending, Nicole and Stan would both mention her.
"Okay, Stanley, here's the deal. You and Terri can stay here for the summer to watch the kids. I'll stay down in the basement and try to contain any remaining damage. But when the summer's over, you give me my house back, you give me my name back, your wife and I divorce, and this Mystery Shack junk is over forever. You got it?"
"You really aren't gonna thank me, are you? Fine. On one condition: you stay away from the kids and Terri; I don't want them in danger. Cause as far as I'm concerned, they're the only family I have left."
Well, Nicole didn't listen because she and Terri get together (I call it "Terrole" hehe). I don't have their whole romance written out, but Nicole has no clue how to date and tries to woo her with stuff she learned in other dimensions. Hilarity and cuteness ensues. And hey, legally Terri is married to Nicole anyways, so it would work out in the end! Yeah, Stan isn't a fan of all this-
Weirdmageddon goes down, she hides in the Mystery Shack with Stan. She's pretty damn worried about Nicole. She's part of the zodiac, her symbol is lipstick. Blah blah blah, she gets turned into tapestry like the others and then everything goes on as usual. She joins Stan and Nicole in their adventures.
Boy that took ages to write. It was fun though! And I hope you guys like Terri as much as I do!
(My dear friends @ghosty-seapancake and @i-overanalyze-musicals helped loads with creating Terri! So much love to them! The timeline I referenced is by @fordtato so lots of love to them as well!!!)
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alienssstufff · 10 months
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I wouldn't consider myself a analysist, because I'm not big brained nor have good enough memory for that; but like (and this may be my bias speaking) double life changed life!Pearl so much in the way it just amplified her already existing traits. She's very sheep in a wolf's clothing to me especially after dl made her even more disenchanted with the inherent isolation of later life sessions (what w/ being forced into that by day one of dl, immediately distrusted at a level only just barely below reds themselves). Like I could be getting the characterazation completely wrong, as I don't remember the seasons very well, but Pearl's playstyle very much feels like she's just capitalizing on her "hidden" chaos, being the kindest ally but also down to be unhinged when the moment calls for it, losing that kindness so fast in double life from being rejected and never getting it back nearly as strong as before. I feel like life!Pearl has gotten so use to the games and Watcher schennagins at this point that she just leans hard into the premise and her innate chaos <2 (can you tell she's my favourite character lol /silly)
Post-DL!Pearl I love her especially! Do I think she’s even more chaotic than she was in DL? No but for sure DL changed her like Whwhwh permanently she’s my fave winner bc of how prevalent that development is, to make those choices on her terms - not bc the game tells her to. Her POVs are very refreshing bc -in compare to everyone else- she’s so relaxed (bc she’s won before), and she makes it clear she’s not here to win (she already has)- she wants to have fun and uplift her friends :]
Her around ppl that aren’t her teammates is… a wildcard- but the trust in her allies is unshakeable. she reminds me of a mentor figure to them she wants what’s best for the team…. I don’t like the way ppl have been undermining the Mounders this season bc they aren’t attached at the hip 24/7, to Pearl they mean a lot to her SHE chose them and vice versa. so much that they’ll mutually go do things behind the other’s back that would help them survive in the long run and she trusts them with her LIFE. This especially between Pearl and Bdubs and their allyship makes me so delirious evrrytime she brings him up I’m getting Nosy Neighbours deja vu :[
“They’re Mounders (Joel and Bdubs), they would never betray me like that.” -Pearl ep6
“You can’t just TAKE him (Bdubs), he’s a Mounder.” -Pearl ep5 in the building competition
[the whole thing with Joel and Bdubs wasting their yellow-life guesses for Pearl ep6]
“I’m not here to win. I here for Bdubs to win.” -Pearl ep6
“I can’t. I can’t… she’s (Pearl) my biggest cheerleader. I can’t do that do her.” -Bdubs ep6
That part in SL Session 6 when Pearl, her dogs, and Bdubs hid in the skeleton farm away from the Wither/Warden fight, and when a red name (Martyn) found them- I wonder if she was ever scared the game would take Bdubs too like it did to BigB last season… I mean it already took Mumbo.
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fushiglow · 1 year
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Then I guess you're a better person than me, Gojo!!
Because I hate Gege Akutami and I'm *very* angry on your behalf 😃 I’m (sort of) kidding but damn... thoughts on 236 below the cut!!
I held off posting earlier because I felt like going scorched earth on everything jjk. I took some time to clear up some of the translations I wasn't sure about and let the reality sink in, and now I'm ready to talk about this chapter rationally lol.
Firstly, I wanna say that my issue with this chapter isn’t Gojo dying or even the way that he died. I always knew that Gojo dying was likely, but here?? Now???? I've spent all day turning it over in my mind and trying to make it work, but it just won't.
I think Gojo's 'delusion' (daydream? afterlife?) is really beautiful in isolation. Some of the dialogue is really touching and I think it'll benefit from the emotional impact delivered by the full translations. The problem is what follows.
After 235, people were nervous that Gojo hadn't actually won yet. I waited to see what some trusted translators thought of the editor's comment before deciding it was a conclusive win for Gojo, and what I read reassured me that the win would remain intact even if he died at some point over the course of December 24.
In the past couple of chapters, we were told that Sukuna was 'nervous' for the first time in 1000 years and he thought Hollow Purple at close range would be fatal. At the end of 235, Sukuna is looking pretty terrible while Gojo looks fresh as a daisy after fighting in inspiring, inventive ways throughout.
So to find out that, actually, he *hasn't* won and he's been killed by getting cut in half offscreen feels like shock value for the sake of shock value. There have been a few 'shock factor' moments during this fight and they've always bothered me a little, but I could excuse them for the sake of hype building in a weekly manga. However, I never anticipated anything on this level and I'm genuinely so disappointed.
I think this long-awaited fight ending this way cheapens Gojo's character *and* Sukuna's character (and Kashimo's character for that matter!), and ultimately makes the entire thing feel meaningless. 'Meaning' is the thread that has run through Gojo's entire arc, tying him back to Suguru as he sought to build a better world. I always felt certain that Gojo's life and death would have meaning, even if it ended tragically, but I just can't find the meaning in this. I think I understand what Gege was trying to do, but he really didn't sell it for me.
There’s nothing worse than when a story makes you feel stupid for getting invested, and that’s how I’m feeling right now. I find myself wondering, what was the point in bringing Gojo back at all??? Keep him in the box and very little changes in the story, unless it transpires that Gojo 'weakening' Sukuna for the students was his grand purpose after all which... really??
Even worse, I *always* said if it was between Gojo and the students, I wanted Gojo to die. Since 212, getting Megumi back has been my number one priority, but 236 has achieved what I previously thought impossible. I literally don't even want Megumi to come back anymore, because I just can't imagine how he could live with himself after 'killing' Tsumiki and Gojo. It seems kinder for him to die with Sukuna and I *never* thought I would say that.
I'm feeling like a real clown for the meta I posted after 235. I want to take it down because I was so certain that Gojo had won, but I won't because I don't believe my reading of Gojo's character was wrong. I just think my expectations were too high, even though I tried hard to temper them. Even so, telling Megumi about Toji being left to Shoko? Gojo losing and leaving his students to clean up the mess again?? Gojo not even *mentioning* his students in his dying daydream???
It all just feels wrong. Gojo has been turned into nothing more than a plot device at the absolute last second, and maybe it's on me for ever expecting that he would be anything more than that in a series where he isn't the main character, but why bother writing Hidden Inventory then? Why bother getting us invested in this man's story at all?
Right now, I'm feeling like I don't even want to watch tomorrow's episode, but I am interested to see whether Gege can pull this arc off in the long term. I've seen people talking about resurrection theories because of the enlightenment hints and, while I do see the vision, I think Gojo's acceptance of his death and letting go of his regrets can also be read as enlightenment as he escapes the mortal coil once and for all.
Gojo's dying bloody smile shows he's at least happy in his final moments, so my feeling is that Gojo is truly dead and gone. I really want to trust that Gege will make this work, but damn. This is a tragedy.
(Although, if Gojo actually is at peace in death, maybe that's the reason Gege will bring him back. He'll *never* let that man be happy, I swear.)
To end on a positive note, the SatoSugu crumbs were beautiful and teenage Gojo's facial expressions were wonderful. I'm crying again just thinking about the contrast of that last adorable smile with his blank expression on the next page.
I'm dropping all my canonverse WIPs and working exclusively on AU fics for the foreseeable future 😤 I'm gonna give Gojo all the happy endings he deserves!!!
(fuck. poor poor shoko.)
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bump1nthen1ght · 1 year
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Out of The Woods (Epilogue: Part 2)
Pairing: M! Werewolf x Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluff, Domestic Life, Established Relationship
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1797 words
Summary: Nothing says love better then an impromptu living room dance party
(AKA a fun snippet of you and Heath's life)
A/N: The fluffy piece won second in the poll and I already has this in the works so I hope y'all enjoy!!
ALSO
Recommended listening: Bet On It from High School Musical 2
(which if you haven't seen this scene, do yourself a favor and watch it lol)
In a weird way, Heath being a werewolf didn’t come up too often in your house.
It was probably because many of his wolf traits had become normal to your everyday routine. His long hair, his shaggy tail, and even his wolf form assimilated into your isolated farm-life with very little issue.
(And with the hunters off your back and most townsfolk none the wiser, it could stay that way)
It was only when he’d ask you a pop culture question everyone should know, or ate the steaks you had bought raw as a midnight snack, or forgot how your air conditioning work, that you were reminded of it. How long had Heath lived as an “other”, detached from society and other people? You very rarely broached the subject, knowing how he would get quiet and bristle at the thought of the past. Of living on his own, on the edge.
So you’d answer his simple questions, let him gnaw on some bones, and let him tell you when he needed to. It was better that way.
You’re watching a movie one night, not a terribly good one, where the main character gets dragged to a club by her friends. They’re convincing her she needs to ‘live a little’, forcing her out of her comfort zone and onto the crowded, sweaty dance floor. The scene is dark and not very well lit, the background music not properly mixed and drowing out most of the audio. Though you guess thats pretty accurate to the club experience.
“Do people actually do that?”
Heath asks, head laid in your lap as you play with his hair.
“Do what?”
“Go to…that.” He points at the scene, eyes scrunched up at the jarring lights and mass amounts of people. “Go to a crowded place in the dark and dance? Why not go somewhere with some room? This place looks like a fucking nightmare.”
You laugh, watching as the clumsy main character dives and dances between egregiously grinding couples.
“It definitely can be, but people seem to love it.” You twirl a finger through Heath’s hair, only paying half-attention to the clunky dialogue. “And it can be nice once in a while, especially if you’ve got a good group of friends.” You chuckle. “Me and my college buddies would sometimes get wasted before hand, go and dance for an hour or two, then come back and get in our pj’s and watch a movie. I prefer clubs in short bursts; they can be kind of exhilarating, but exhausting.”
Heath hums, pressing his head into your palm when you scratch behind his ear. It makes you smile, but not before seeing the slightly melancholy look on his eye.
You look up at the screen. Now the main character is thoroughly drunk, holed up in the bathroom with her friends and laughing her ass off. They all dance terribly, cracking jokes and hugging each other the way drunk people do. They’ve all got big smiles on their face, even in the grimy bathroom.
Heath has gone quiet, your hands still running through his hair. He sighs.
You weren’t a big club person anymore, but you do remember loving that time of your life. Sure, you’re shitty knees and early bedtime weren’t great for it now and you’re sure you left those clubs wondering why anybody does that on the regular, but you had still been able to do it. To knock it off the checklist, even just to say it wasn’t for you.
You don’t think Heath ever did. Never was able to be that careless, joyful, and deliriously young.
“This movie sucks ass.”
Now that’s more like Heath.
The look on Heath’s face lingers with you for the rest of the night and into the morning, enough to remind you when you both sit down to watch something again the next night.
“How about we don’t watch a movie tonight?”
Heath turns his head up from his tub of popcorn, quirking his brow.
“Oh, did you wanna play some video games?”
“No…” You look at the dimmer switch not too far from the couch. Its right next to your back porch door, adorned with some fairy lights you hung up and proceeded to never use. That, combined with the never used bluetooth speaker above your fireplace, gives you an idea.
You hop up from the couch, queing up a certain song in your phone before flicking the dimmer and the fairy lights. The low light makes Heath’s wolf eyes shine, his ears flicking as he readjusts to his surroundings. With a little beep from the speaker, you set down your phone and jog in front of Heath, letting the song start. His ears swivel again, looking up at you like the adorable puppy he can be.
“Isn't this that song from that movie a couple nights ago?”
“Yeah!” You bop to the beat, shimmying your shoulders to the heavy drum beat intro. “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it. I heard you humming it in the shower yesterday morning. Now come on!” You grab and pull at Heath’s hand, even knowing he’s far too big for you to make him budge. “Come dance with me! Everybody’s always talking at me-”
Heath rolls his eyes, but you can tell he enjoys your discordant singing.
“Everybody’s trying to get in my head. I wanna listen to my own heart talkin’. I wanna listen to my own heart talking. I need to count on myself instead. Did you ever-”
With a dramatic pout om his face, Heath chuckles and sits up, grabbing your hand as you sing into a pretend microphone. But you’re still doing most of the dancing, shaking your hips back and forth. You wiggle your eyebrows and try to encourage him to move.
“What exactly should I do?”
“Just…” you wiggle your fingers, “let your body roll with the music. Let it consume you.” Hands still interlocked, you begin to sway Heath’s arms back and forth. He gets some of the idea, bobbing his head. Your shoulder movements become exaggerated, trying to look as ridiculous as possibke to encourage Heath to loosen up.
“I’m not gonna stop, that’s who I am. I’ll give it all I got, that is my plan.” Heath laughs at your flailing arms, beginning to shimmy his shoulders like you are. You mime the dramatic facial expressions of Zac Efron, gesturing to Heath to join you in singing. He rolls his eyes, but starts mutter-singing anyway. You didn’t expect him to know all the lyrics, but he’s actually hitting all the words with you.
I knew he liked High School Musical 2.
You pull Heath out to the middle of the living room, giving you more space to add some footwork as the chorus hits. You yank Heath’s arms back and forth and shake your hips, which only makes Heath laugh more.
“-you know you can bet on it, bet on it, bet on it, bet on me!”
You let loose one hand and stretch out to the side on the long note, when Heath pulls you back toward him for a spin. You giggle uncontrollably, singing louder and louder, squealing when Heath dips you. He nuzzles your nose and gets a peck to the lips in return.
You hop up, throwing your hand to your forehead when the dramatic slow part begins. He rolls his eye again, but you can see him nodding along.
“It’s no good at all, to see yourself and not recognize your face-” Heath hops in with the backing “oohs”. You point an exaggerated finger. “Out on my own, it’s such a scary place.” You’re cut off when Heath pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist. But you’re even more gobsmacked when he sings the next part, in earnest.
“The answers are all inside of me. All I gotta do-” His voice is surprisingly melodic, deep but not flat or even off-pitch. “-is believe.”
The natural pause in the music would be the perfect time to sneak in a romantic kiss, but you’re both caught up in the performance now. You both turn to look at an inaginary camera when the music drops, arms now locked as if dancing ballroom.
“I’m not gonna stop, not gonna stop till I get my shot.” Moving across the living room with messy footwork, you two belt the chorus. Heath draws you down for another dip when the long note of “-bet on meee” hits. It’s silly, but you do feel like a pop star.
From the outside you’re sure you look absolutely insane. Just two adults flailing and dancing around their living room as speakers blast. If you had neighbors, they’d definitely complain or be calling the cops by now.
But right now, its just you and Heath. Dancing together, hearts pounding, with big smiles and stupid amounts of giggling. Just a pocket of your life, all sweet and your own.
The song slowly fades out, leaving to lean over and shamefully realize how out of breath you are.
God, I need to start hiking or something. This is embarassing
Heath, with his wolf stamina, is not even breathing heavy and catches you in a hug, peppering your cheek with kisses. He bounces on his heels and practically throws you down on the couch, his tail wagging behind him. He snuggles into your neck, blowing raspberries into your skin and making you laugh.
Still letting your heart slow down, you exhale and look at Heath.
“So….how’d you like you’re first dance party?”
“I liked it!” Heath pants, a big stupid smile one his face. “More than I thought I would. You being so terrible at dancing really helped.” You gasp, playfully smacking his shoulder. He blows another rapsberry into your neck, the pleqsant rumble in his chest. After a coupe more play hits and giggles, Heath relaxes into your arms. “I’ve…never really done anything like that before. It was nice.”
“Well, I’m happy to be your first.” You run a couple fingers through Heath's hair, stopping to scratch at the base of his wolf ears. He nuzzles even deeper. “And if you ever feel the need to dance party again, just let me know.”
The two of you sit like that awhile, as you often do. Just basking in each other's warmth, soaking in the skin contact.
You can’t wait to spend more firsts with him.
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gok1bvri72 · 1 year
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I adore Len and Rin! I have been trying my hand in x readers lately by making a load of Lyney x Reader so why not make some nostalgic (for me at least) Len x Reader🤔? As cringe as it may sound I've been reading all the fics left over by the fandom of old since I was 10 I'm so obsessed with Len>< So I pretty much have a headcanon for everything under the sun about him! So this mini thing will be a breeze:>
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Len is a very cautious lover.
Used to all the memes and hate he used to regularly get back when the Vocaloid fandom was rampant; he is very hesitant with just about everything he does lest it become yet another meme and another reason to make fun of him.
As you can guess this leads to major anxiety and constantly feeling like he has done something wrong.
Please don't let him feel this way.
This being said, he is great at recognizing panic/anxiety attacks long before they happen.
He has a tendency to memorize what triggers them and avoids those places/topics entirely.
It's almost like he was built to be some form of anxiety relief android. Maybe he has some beta coding for future therapy androids?
Either way despite his physical age and mindset his is incredibly observant and can read a person pretty well.
He has a tendency to make assumptions though.
Brush his hair and don't tell him he needs to whack his ponytail off.
He'll love you.
Maybe he will let you braid it if you ask nicely.
He owns a saluki named Happy. No questions asked.
No he does not co-own her with Rin. Happy is *his* dog and neither him or the dog will accept otherwise.
If his dog approves of you 9 times outta 10 he will too.
He also likes cats, he and Rin are just allergic.
If you're someone like me and covered in cat hair 24/7, he will sneeze around you all the time.
It's cute though.
Len sneezes are adorable.
He is bad at english/kanji class please help him.
That being said he is a math wizard.
If you're like me and suck at math he can help you don't need to worry.
He would probably just do your homework for you if you ask.
Which is why you shouldn't.
Len has a problem with doing things for others so he'll do just about anything (within reason) for you if he loves you enough.
We already know he would die for his sister if I had to guess he would die for you too if you won him over.
He will take his hoodie off for you and let you wear it. He never takes his hoodies off.
Please please protect him.
Him is verr ee wholesome.
Len has some serious self doubt issues (as I mentioned earlier) so remind him that he *is* talented and that his sister isn't any better than he is.
I mentioned earlier he is good at recognising the signs of a panic attack and I think he is just as prepared to handle them as he is good at sensing them.
If you need words of comfort he can provide you with those but if you just want him to hold you while you cry he can do that too.
He actually prefers the latter because he is afraid he may say something wrong.
He has attachment issues and separation anxiety.
To certain extent he has separation anxiety with his sister and dog but it's not as bad as it is with you.
He gets so nervous and scared. He doesn't like being without you.
He is also super attached to you because you aren't mean to him.
That's probably one of the big reasons he loves you so much; you treat him like a person.
Len gets angry when people say he is a little gay twink.
He likes girls too!
He thinks no matter what's in your pants if your beautiful and kind you are beautiful and kind>:[
Please play minecraft and animal crossing with him♡♡♡
He is often littered with band-aids for no reason. He thinks they look cool lol.
Big cuddler!
Winter and autumn are his favourite seasons because he can cuddle with you in bed and wear layers:)
He has *so* many blankets and he shares all of them with you!
Doesn't mind if you fart in the bed. Doesn't run away squealing in disgust like his sister. Literally could not care less it's no different from a sneeze to him. True manliness right there.
Apple cider is his favourite!
He loves the smell so much his room has diffusers everywhere in it and they all have the scent:)
He also has his windows open a lot of the time!
So it smells like that windy-open-window-bedroom *and* apple cider!
If you open his door without expecting it, it's like being hit in the face with essence of bard. (If you get it you get it.)
Hates anything to do with zombies. They trigger panic attacks in him because he knows he would survive because he is an android but he wouldn't know how to keep you and your loved ones safe.
Not knowing what to do in certain situations enduces anixety and panic attacks in him whether it be an on the spot question from a teacher or just thinking about a situation like such his room.
He cries a lot.
I mean he is adorable and it's impossible to not find him cute when he does cry but he has one of those crying faces that makes you just feel so much guilt and a need to protect him.
Smooch his cheeks when he cries, if you do it enough he cries a little less.
Don't make him bottle up his emotions though, but also help him to stop crying because it's not very good for his eye cameras.
His eyes can glow in the dark by the way.
Every android's can.
But his are so pretty! When they glow they are a bright, electric blue that fades into a slightly deeper shade and they are *so*, SO sparkly!!
Make sure to tell him his sparkle eyes are beautiful✨✨
He has a lot of plushies.
He likes Journey to the West and is a Sun Wukong enthusiast!
He really likes Dragon Ball so he wanted to know about the design origins of Goku and you get the picture.
He doesn't quite understand all the symbolism in JTTW but he still enjoys it regardless because MONKEY KING SMASH!!!
Has a lanyard that he really likes and doesn't take off often.
He has a Vocaloid tomogatchi and the little character in it is the same Rin he has had since he first got it back when they were released.
He can't let his sister die on him!
His sister has one with him in it that she takes just as good care of♡
They may argue all the time but they really do love eachother!
Len and Rin are you best friends and Len is the best, most accommodating boyfriend you could ever ask for so please treasure him and his sister you lucky you!
Handle with care U^U
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