#also i forgot all about which one is which

[kenntolog]

my birthday is coming up soon in early june so i was wondering can i request sukuna acted like he forgot his loser!gf’s birthday and ended up surprising her that night OMG throw a sprinkle of angst and fluff pls love u sm author!!!!

𝝑𝝔 an: oh oh!! i wish you an early/belated happy birthday!! thank u so much <33 sorry for any mistakes and errors!!

you didn’t think it’d be such an awful birthday. sure all of the congratulations and birthday wishes were really nice and sweet, but your favourite person in the whole world didn’t even text you or call you about, apparently too busy with his job and practice to remember about your special day.

you’ve been holding your tears of anger and frustration all day long, testing your acting skills since everyone else had been so sweet about it; your little circle of friends from university greeting you with a pretty looking cake and singing you happy birthday in the cafeteria, little yuuji facetiming you from jin’s phone to congratulate you and to tell you about the present he and his dad bought you(for which he of course got scolded and boinked on the head).

hell, even some strangers passing by in the hallway congratulating you after hearing the commotion from your friends!!

sukuna’s been silent though. it is concerning, but also pretty hurtful :(

that is until you get home and sukuna sweeps you right from the doorway, pulling you into a breathtaking kiss that conceals your scares squeal.

“sukuna!”

“hey, loser,” he smiles down at you lovingly, arms snug around your waist as he continues peppering kisses on your face. “what’s with the sour face?”

oh he knows exactly what’s going on through your mind.

“i thought you forgot about me.”

“dumbass.” he rolls his eyes lightly, hand coming up to neatly run through your hair, sliding it back smoothly before kissing your forehead. “i was just busy plannin’ a little surprise for you.”

the cute pout you were donning on your face disappears as soon as you hear the word ‘surprise’, making you all excited as you grip his shoulders and smile at him widely.

“a surprise? for me??”

he ruffles your hair with a smirk before he flicks your forehead softly, “who else, idiot.”

you beam at him and follow him to the darkness of your living room, a loud gasp leaving you as soon as you see a small cake on the table with lit candles on it; you don’t really see the design of it, and you don’t really care to do at the moment.

“no way! sukunaa!” you jump up and down around him eagerly, totally acting like a little kid, and clap while he gently pushes you towards the table, displaying faux annoyance on his face just like he usually does around you, the curling corners of his lips betraying him.

“will you sing for me?”

“don’t be stupid.”

sukuna can never resist your puppy eyes. and paired with the fact that it’s your birthday and he’s already been playing with you since morning, he decides that it won’t hurt him even a bit to embrace you from behind and settle his shin on your shoulder. then lean in closer and slowly start singing a stupid happy birthday song for you, heart nearly failing when you turn your face to meet his soft gaze with a teary one of your own.

“make a wish, baby, c’mon.”

all of the anger, sadness and frustration forgotten, and dissipated, you take a couple of seconds to think of something nice and blow the candles, cheering along with sukuna.

turning on the lights, he goes to the kitchen to prepare some tea for both of you, and only after removing the candles you’re able to see the design on the cake clearly.

a messily drawn stickman figure that somehow resembles you and 3 hearts in the background with stickman sukuna, yuuji and jin’s heads in them. it’s so cute, so sweet and so thoughtful that your heart starts hurting from how happy you feel.

the thought of little yuuji doing this for you, the image of his small pudgy fingers holding the pastry bad supported by jin’s hand as he does his best, with his tongue sticking out in concentration like it usually does, — you can barely keep yourself together as you run to the kitchen and hug sukuna from behind as soon as you spot him.

“ay— i coulda burned you, idiot, what’re y— huh? why’re you cryin’?”

pushing your face further into his back, you continue sniffling and shaking against him, letting him remove your hands from his middle to turn around and hold you properly.

“why the tears, hm?” he asks as his hands cup your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the running warm drops.

“thank you s-so much for this.” you mutter quietly, placing a small kiss on his jaw.

sukuna caresses your hair before he smirks down at you, “this is not the end.”

“it’s not..?”

“nah, i still have things planned and we still have a couple of hours before your birthday ends.”

with a wide toothy grin stretched on your lips, you squeal into the fabric of his chest in excitement and let him shut you up with a sweet kiss.

“happy birthday, baby.”

[pixiesfz]

microphone drop j.f x reader

plot: In which Vanessa forgets to tell Jessie she is mic’d up and all she talks about is you

warning: just fluff

Jessie was in the gym after training when Vanessa caught her.

“Jeff, Jflem, Jessatron, the Jessanator, the-“

“Hi” Jessie cut her friend off before she said random words with ‘jess’ in front of it.

“Whatchu up to?” Vanessa asked and Jessie motioned to the weights next to her “nice, hot your PB yet?”

Jessie crossed her head “no but y/n is helping me at home”

Vanessa smiled at the mention of you, she thought you were good for Jessie. You made her happy and Sinc always says she would never forget how giddy Jessie got after the first Australian friendly and you asked to swap shirts with her.

“How is y/n/n?”

Jessie blushed, “good, really good uhm did I tell you about my plan yet or-“

“No tell me, tell me now”

Even Vanessa forgot she was mic’d.

“Well after international break and before Olympics I was planning on proposing and-“ “what!” Vanessa jumped up in excitement

Jessie looked around nervously “yes?”

“This is huge Jessie” Vanessa smiled at her and she rubbed her already red cheeks “How are you going to do it?”

Jessie sat down next to Vanessa and pulled out her phone, excited to go into detail about this with someone.

“Okay so this is the ring, I saw her look at it before when we were buying a gift for her sister, it kinda gave me the whole idea in the first place but anyway” she rambled before going to her next photo of a FaceTime call with y/n’s parents as they gave a thumbs up.

“Then I got the permission from her parents but she likes to call them her rentals which I don’t get”

“Oh it’s like Australian slang there, parental figures without the ‘pa’” Vanessa explained and Jessie’s eyes widened as she finally got it “How do you know that?”

“Ellie”.

Jessie nodded before swiping to the next picture of confirmed plane tickets to Australia, your homeland “she thinks we’re going on a spontaneous trip to see her family, which we are but I’m also going to propose to her there” she explained and Vanessa swore she had never seen her captain so happy.

“And then I bought her this dress she always said she wanted but she said it was too cold to wear in London so I got it so she could wear it in Australia” Jessie said, swiping to the next picture as Vanessa realised Jessie had made an album dedicated to the planning of the big event.

“You going to do a speech”

“I want to try, I wrote one but I’m not that great at remembering lines” Jessie said, scratching behind her ear “that’s fine you’re good at thinking on the spot and also knowing y/n she will be saying yes even before your knee hits the ground”

Jessie smiled “I only plan on doing the ‘proposal’ thing once so I want it to be perfect for her”

Vanessa slapped her friend in the shoulder supportively “I’m sure y/n will think it’s perfect no matter what”.

It wasn’t until later when Jessie had finished spotting Vanessa on chest pressed and the social media came over asking for the mic was when her face paled over.

“You were mic’d the entire time?” She asked, her cheeks red as panic now evident on her face.

“Did I forget to tell you?” Vanessa asked as she thought back to their conversation.

“You know you cannot use any of that”.

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 31/May/2024

A busy one this week! But it always feels good when it’s been busy but you can check so many things off your list. Especially seeing as it was a bank holiday I forgot about last Monday, so a shorter week! :D

After some amazingly encouraging comments on Patreon, I did decide to go back and put in the Unit Bravo POV for Chapter Two. Not only that, but I decided to make it individual love interest POVs, because I can’t help myself, hehe! But it was actually kind of perfect, because it gives a nice small glimpse into what the vampires get up to when the MC isn’t around and they aren’t working…well, unless it’s A, and then they’re pretty much always working anyway, lol!

After that, I started on the end scenes for Chapter Two, and let me tell you…they are some doozy scenes! Bringing out some angsty punch right from the start, hehe! But also finished with some rather lovely soft romantic moments which help to soothe that intensity… ;D

They were scenes I have been waiting agggges to write. It certainly sets up how things that are happening might come between the building romances!

I was a bit worried that adding in the extra POV scenes would push me back, but I really went for it this week, and I’m going to be finishing Chapter Two today as planned!!!

So next week that means I can start on the editing and rewriting. Next week will also be social media days, which I will be heading elsewhere to do because internet here is still intermittent at best, and I really want the asks to be more consistent again! 

Got some really fun stuff coming up on Patreon this month too, including the initial sketch idea for Mason/Morgan’s masquerade ball mask! Looking forward to working on all of that :D

Hope you all have the most amazing weekend and enjoy the demo—as well as get excited for what's to come after checking it out, hehe! We’ll be offline as usual, so I’ll update you all again next week! <3

[ysrjune]

Earned It

based on this ask! || omg guys, you have no idea how much I missed my twins </3 love them w/ all my heart ♡

summary ✦ having sex with your boyfriend, Scott, while his brother watches.

“scotty, stop playing around with me..” you whine as his clothed cock thrusted into your clothed core. his pants were still on, and you could see the buldge sitting uncomfortably through them. your panties were still on. those cute, white, silky ones with a small bow in the middle; that he really liked. “I can play with you all I want. isn’t that what you told me last time, baby? said that I could do anything I fuckin’ wanted with you.” he coos, still thrusting, but this time, slower.

“an’ now that im actually doing it, you’re whining. did you really mean what you said, or were you just drunk off my cock, hm? pretty sure that was the case, princess, cause I remember that pussy clingin’ onto me all bad when you said it.” he continues, now pulling the hem of your underwear down. you stayed silent, not answering him out of embarrassment. its not like he minded, but he sure was gonna tease you about it. “ts’ the matter, dolly? cat caught your tongue?” he smirked devishly and finally removed your underwear, revealing your soaking cunt.

“damn, baby. all this for me?” he asks, running his middle and ring finger up and down your folds. you choke out a moan as a response, earning you a small smile from your pretty boyfriend.. but not just your boyfriend. his twin brother, too. scott had a camera in his room, which he forgot his brother had access to through an app on his phone since they had the same kind of camera that they purchased at the same time. sam monroe, who stalked you and his brother doing such un-cleanly things through an app.

sam was stroking his cock while watching all of this. he didnt pay attention to scott, cause that'd be weird, but everything scott did to you is what sam focused on. the way his brothers fingers lovingly caressed your clit, sometimes fingering it. sam stopped touching himself for a while, while scott ate you out and fingered you for a little bit, but once you were sat down on your boyfriends cock, bouncing up and down reverse cowgirl style.. sam couldnt resist stroking himself to that. the way scotts hands gripped your waist and how he'd fuck himself into you here and there. the way your eyebrows were slightly knitted together and your cute noises in rhythm will the sound of skin slapping against each other.. it was too much for sam.

so much so that he started to moan.. loud. loud enough for scott to hear. their rooms were right next to each other, and the walls weren't that thick. you were feeling too good to actually pay attention and hear sam from next door, but scott was. he immediately knew. he remembered the camera. he looked straight at it, or course, sam wouldnt know since you were blocking scott. but scott became a little angry. how the hell could his brother do something so nasty.. he knew sam had a little crush on you, but he never thought he would do something so desperate like this.

the more scott thought about it, the angrier he got. and the angrier he got, the harder he started to pound into you from the bottom. you caught the memo that he was now the one to put in the work and get the job done. it took a few different positions and at least 15 more minutes, but after that, scott filled you up with his warm cum, which made you let out the prettiest whimper that both monroes had ever heard. scott noticed the way your cunt was drooling his cum out, and it gave him an idea. he quickly picked up the camera and gave it (sam) a good look. the alternative brother was a little scared, knowing he had been caught but was also somewhat thanking his brother for blessing him with such a sight. they'd probably get into a fist fight after this, leaving both with bruises, busted up lips, and one with a black eye—but sam didnt care about that right now. cause all he focused on was the thought of him filling you up. with the image of that in his head, he came and whimpered out your name.

“scotty.. why are you??” your boyfriend shushes you. “I have an app for this camera on my phone. it caught everything we did. starting from the making out, all the way to me cumming in you.. just wanted to get a good close up so I could jerk off to it later, maybe.” he somewhat lies and tells the truth at the same time. you brushed it off and got comfy on scotts bed, turning yourself to the wall, and closing your eyes. scott turned the camera to him real quick and mouthed out, “you sick fuck.” and then turned it off so that he could take care of you for the rest of the time.

sam knew this was gonna end up ugly.. but at least he got to see you naked instead of having to imagine it while he jerks off.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

taglist: @anakinstwinklebunny @heartsforanakin @anisscarletstarlet @sockiess @erosmutt @rottencandyblood @radiantvader @freezerbride95 @starsfortaylor @maevesversion @emmaloo21 🎀

[liliththeimp]

Nap time (fem! Reader, NSFW)

Guess whos ovulating!!

Me, it’s me. I’m ovulating. I’m the horn ball.

im in the mood to repost a chapter from my AO3 like an idiot cause I’m dry and i forgot i even write it

(Also inadvertently called him Simon instead of ghost n i didnt proof read it, so if ghost is hiding in there, ignore his ass)

cw: p-in-v, sleepy sex, cock warming, somnophilia

——————

there was something so tranquil about nap time, the late afternoon sun peeking through the windows to cast a soft glow across your body,  tangled in the sheets with your shirt hiked up your abdomen and legs tangles in the blanket.

something that felt so secure and safe in the supple mattress that made Simon feel so comfortable with you.

he had his mask off, now that you two have been together long enough- you were able to catch him without his mask off every so often and today was one of those days.

Simon had come home from work, tired and hot and grumpy, and you were there to greet him with open arms and bath time, and after scrubbing away the day laying in your small form, he had take you to bed. Simon haphazardly dressed in pure sweats without boxers, to collapse onto the pillowy comforter with you, who also had a lack of underwear and clad in nothing but his borrowed t-shirt, curled under his arm and fast asleep like a doll.

Eventually, simon stirred, seeing how peaceful and cute you looked while you slept understanding that to have someone so willing to fall asleep around him meant you trusted him, and that meant everything.

he gave a slight stretch, rolling over to see your exposed skin glowing from the subtle sunlight and it send a slight wave of blush to his cheeks, washing his ears in a pink tint.

Not only that, but he woke up with an erection, of course.

Simon groaned quietly, because you looked so peaceful, he didnt want to wake you. He wanted to be comforting, not sexual in the slightest- but oh god, how cute you looked, how easy he could take you in this moment and to see you wake up moaning his name first thing had made him hard all over again.

he rolled over, wanting to quickly fix the situation before you woke up and realized he was gone, maybe retreat to the bathroom? His mind had wondered hurriedly until it hit him.

you had mentioned (very shyly, knowing how odd it must have been to ask such a request of Simon,) that if he ever felt comfortable, he could fuck you while you slept- which was also another leap of trust he was amazed you gave him- and you’d let him do anything to you while you slept.

Cue his cock twitching against his sweats again.

He fell back onto the pillow next to you, looking to your form again and he held a hand out, inching slowly towards your hip to stroke from your waist to your thigh, and you didnt move- you stayed silent with soft breaths leaving your parted lips.

he pressed a bit harder, looking to you to gauge how much force he can give without waking you up, and you only slightly stirred from the impact, another soft breath leaving you as you tilted your head in your sleep.

Simon pulled his hand back, palming his cock through his sweats and quietly whining as he rested a head against your shoulder, moving you closer to spoon him so he could grind into your ass.

He gave a slight hiss, holding your hips as he felt you arch your back in your sleep, feeling your bare heat against his cock made him jerk his hips forward, right in between your thighs.

slowly, his hips piston in between your thighs, feeling how subconsciously wet you became for him, letting breathy whimpers leave your lips in your sleep; but still unaware all the same.

his hand moved from your hip to hike up your shirt further to reveal your breasts, kneading it a bit as he thrusted again, biting his lip as he groaned quietly.

Simon decided that, to edge himself out, he toyed with your body a bit more. his hand slid from your breast down to your clit, slowly circling his digit around as he moved his mouth to softly lap at your nipple.

The feeling you bucking your hips unconsciously made his lips quirk upwards in a cheeky grin, moving his hand behind your ass to fumble with the waist band of his sweats, pumping his shaft for some release before slowly toying at your sick folds with his tip.

A hitched sigh left him as he felt you contract around his length, pushing ever so gently to not wake you, but the tightness forced a grunt to leave him and he gently moved his full length inside.

Upon finally reaching your cervix, he heard you moan in your sleep, soon adjusting your head to press further into the pillow while your hips rolled against him in your sleepy state.

Simon smiled again, dragging his member back out and forcing back in with a controlled thrust, only jerking his hips slowly to earn those soft whimpers that left your lips.

Moving just a bit faster, he mewled into the crook of your neck, purring from your unconscious contractions around him, feeling the way you still got effortlessly wet for him. It enough to make him want to live in this moment forever, with his cock buried deep inside of you to feel the bulge from your belly with every rut.

Simon continued to work his way into you, grunting and moaning at every drag against your plush velvet walls enclosing him with need. His hands held your hips back against him, moving your hips for you like you were some toy for him. His cock twitched deep inside of you at the expense of his release, letting out an exasperated but quiet grunt from his climax and slurred a curse into his breath.

You let out a sigh of your own satisfaction, the sudden aggressive jerk pulling you into consciousness, yet still sleepy and halfway aware, with the only feeling of bliss closing in on you while his hands pawed into your hips to set you even further on his cock

“S…imon,” You simpered through a quiet breath, looking over your shoulder as Simon tilted his head towards you with a smile, pecking your lips as he stayed buried inside of you with his arms tightly draped around you.

“Don’t mind me, love…just go back to sleep.”

———

yooo hoped you liked it boo, ik its kinda short and a bit bad but idrc.

requests are also welcomed with open arms (and open legs,) so if you want go ahead n comment I’ll write for you lol <3

[meanbossart]

Ask compilation: I'm Starting To Think That This Drow Guy Is Kind Of An Asshole Edition.

Probably a Ranger in the hunter subclass. I actually intended to multi-class him as fighter/ranger at some point and make that his official class, but I haven't had time/quite figured out the best build that would still suit him - Ranger makes a LOT of sense with his backstory, arguably more than fighter, but he's still supposed to be a magic-less brick-house with 19 strength who hasn't handled a bow and arrow in 10 years, so I'm not sure where that leaves us LOL

A lot of people have suggested that Berserk Barbarian would fit him well, but I think that implies a lot of other characteristics that do NOT suit him at all so 🤷

HE DIDN'T EVEN GO TO THE CRECHE, and honestly it made the game feel much more immersive to pick one path and stick to it like Halsin suggested, even if I did have to endure the shadow cursed lands without the shiny mace 😂

Probably for the best, it'd be a real shame if the story ended there just because he didn't like Vlaakith's attitude.

But yeah Lae'zel (who, for the record, I adore) never stood a chance in his playthrough. Sorry baby girl.

I'm either uninformed or we have different definitions of what constitutes a crush, but sure I'll play in this space LOL

He's both jealous but also kind of aloof when it comes to things like that. It's yet another symptom of his arrogance, where it seems unfathomable that anyone who has him would be genuinely tempted by someone else. He doesn't mind a normal amount of glance-stealing and flattery, even playful flirting to a degree, but if there's persistence or if his partner seems to seek another person out for things he thinks he should be providing, he feels threatened.

Also, he has a difficult time discerning that "deep emotional connection" does not equal "romantic interest". So, at least immediately after the events of the game, he's more likely to be made insecure by his partners forming deep bonds with others than any throwaway expression of physical desire or fleeting infatuation.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

Let me preface this with the (hopefully unnecessary) disclaimer that this murderous dark-elf's opinions are not my own, and that I very much purposefully made a bit of an asshole character because I find that entertaining.

And now that you're hopefully primed for what's coming - DU drow is pretty damn judgemental of people's looks save for the rare times when they give him a good impression right off the bat. He notes people's appearances and makes preemptive assumptions about them without even realizing it. He definitely does not equal beauty to value or prowess (in fact he will very much still mock of you if you seem too concerned with your appearance) but he does prescribe things based on looks.

I don't think he'd take issue with what you're describing, It sounds like a pretty average body, but he would assume that person is weaker and less fit to "keep up with him", basically. Which kind of diminishes interest.

As far as to what he finds immediately attractive, he definitely prefers people who seem physically fit (not more than himself though - gods forbid). But, the caveat to this whole tangent is that once you get past initial impressions, he could definitely come to be sexually attracted to pretty much any type of body attached to the person he's in love with.

Thank you! There was no main event, just the building up of resentment over time and the opportunity she saw opening up when the Chosen's plan came into motion. She definitely didn't always hate him though, they had a fairly close relationship until his obsessive behavior and arrogance became an issue.

Thank you!!!

They call him the/that drow, dark elf, or "big drow" if there's more than one present. In private they might facetiously call him Bhaalspawn if they get tired of referring to him by race.

I'll be honest, I forgot whether or not I found it in his playthrough LOL but if he did stumble across that would be VERY funny. He'd be like "look at these idiots and their fake murder god. What kind of dimwit would worship carnage as a religion. Hey Shadowheart get a load of this-"

HAPPY YOU ENJOY HIM! I think his unique situation overall with having been such a overwhelmingly horrid person and forgetting all about it is my favorite bit. That's kind of vague, I know, but I often think of dreams I've had where I committed a crime or did something horrible, and that immediate feeling of relief and disconnect that follows immediately after waking up. That's kind of what I imagine it's like for him - he knows of the things he did, but he doesn't really. In theory it's all true but that's a truth far too fantastical for anyone to conceptualize even if it's put right in front of your face.

That, tackling the guilt (or lack thereof) of something you genuinely don't feel like you've done and the intricacies of it, that's a fascinating state of mind to explore. I love how many directions you can take that.

For me, having a character who is not good, but is not necessarily pure unadulterated evil, makes for a lot of complex thought experiments and contradictory values. DU drow has a lot of those - things he believes and abides by absolutely except for this specific instance, being contradictory is a pillar of his character and it can be a little challenging to keep up with it - but I'd be lying if I said I don't deeply enjoy that aspect as well all the same.

THANK YOUUUU It took me so long to figure out how to draw Astarion in a way I liked, I'm so relieved that others enjoy it too 😂

Shockingly he did succeed it and was immediately put-off by it, lmao. They wouldn't really develop much of a relationship for a while after that, so at that point DU drow just figured he was trying to get something from him and wrote him off, much as he did with everyone else with the exception of Shadowheart.

He didn't meet her at the Tiefling grove! I didn't even know you could meet her before-hand for the longest time. But he did super, duper kill her at camp of course.

He managed to hide the body and everyone else was none the wiser, huge blood bhaal-sigil on the ground aside lmao. He was a little shocked but didn't feel all that bad about it, kind of resigning to that primal feeling of satisfaction at a job-well-done that overwhelmed him instead. He decided she was too weak to survive out there and he had just spared her the trouble.

[just-late-roman-republic-things]

Reasons I love late republican Rome as a story setting:

Old as balls. Ruins on top of ruins. "Why is there a giant black slab in the forum?" we forgot lol

So old that major parts of the city's infrastructure are attributed to dudes who may or may not have actually existed. Some people unironically claim to be descended from gods, while others question if gods even care about humans at all.

Cosmopolitan as fuck. If you want your Parthian protagonist to share an apartment with her Thracian and African buddies, you can do that!

There is no zoning, and tons of people cramped together, which means they can dump their chamber pots onto the head of the senator passing by.

You can chuck famous people and incidents into your story. Or make up new ones! Be weird with it!

These characters are soooo haunted by generational legacies and the weight of cultural expectations. Make them chafe. Make them struggle.

The political competition is so complex and changeable. So many points in time where anything could've happened if luck were slightly different. So many alternate history opportunities.

So much weird and funny shit has been recorded from this time that makes for wonderful novels and in-jokes.

There are also so many problems. Oppression, inequality, political violence, even "background" issues like the sewers breaking down. Storytellers need conflict, and ancient Rome is stuffed with it.

The dramatic irony between the characters' hopes and fears about the future and what we, the audience, know will eventually happen. Or think will happen. If the writer is clever, they can still surprise us.

The intellectual and emotional challenge of getting into the head of someone from a really different culture and time period, and grasping both their humanity and their faults. To expand your empathy, yet also articulate where you disagree, and thus better understand your own values and beliefs.

There's so much that these Romans are learning about the world, so many new objects and ideas, as trade and travel expand. And so much that Romans think they know, but are wrong. So many gaps and unknowns. It's frightening and confusing, but also exciting.

The world feels like it's ending. Everyone will lose someone they love, to war or disease or starvation. But people still love, they still try - and some still try to be good people, in whatever way they know how. Who are you, in your city's darkest hour?

Cannibalism metaphors are fun. 🫀

[oneluckydumbass]

You couldn't hold back the tears anymore. The stress of the last hours, the uncertainty, the panic that was clearly visible on the others’ faces were more than enough to push you over the edge. As you sat on the floor with your back against the wall, you rested your forehead on your pulled up knees and struggled to stop crying. You should pull yourself together, you shouldn't show such weakness.

But then you felt a gloved hand on your bare shoulder, reminding you that you weren't alone in this. Ghost was there when those canisters released an unknown substance in the room, which is why the two of you were now quarantined together.

“They'll figure it out,” he said in his deep voice, although you could tell his tone was laced with hopelessness.

You couldn't blame him, you were also feeling hopeless. How could you not? They didn't know what that was, and the symptoms would surely get worse with time. The headache and the nausea was already on the threshold of being unbearable, you couldn't even begin to imagine what else was about to come.

Apparently there was something wrong with the blood sample you both gave. You weren't a doctor, you had no idea what the issue was, but they sounded serious. You didn't want to die. Your job was risky, sure, but dying from a bullet still seemed like the better option.

Before you knew it, Simon sat next to you then put an arm around your shoulder so he could force you to rest with your head on his shoulder. Through the mask, he pressed a soft kiss on your head, causing you to look at him with wide eyes.

“What? There's a chance we'll die here, I'm not gonna spend it as if we were just simple teammates,” he informed you.

The thought of him being so openly affectionate warmed your heart. Simon Riley, the man who always made sure to keep his softer side behind closed doors when he was alone with you, was now ready to let the entire team know you were together as a couple. Happy and in love, although you didn't think you would go into details about how you were already talking about starting a little family of your own.

The only sound came from the buzzing neon lights on the ceiling, filling the heavy silence that was making you more and more depressed as the minutes passed. A doctor came in to check your vitals, noted that Simon had fever, then left without saying anything about what they knew so far.

“I love you, Simon,” you quietly noted as you reached out to take his hand that was resting on his thigh.

With a short laugh he pulled up the mask a little and leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss, savoring the moment, turning it into a core memory. Because this was an important moment for the both of you, a slow and emotional goodbye in case you didn't make it.

“If we get out of here,” he began cautiously as you lay down with your head resting on his legs, “would you marry me? And I mean it, I don't want a long engagement or a big wedding, I just want to make it official as soon as possible.”

“Just the two of us?”

“Just the two of us.”

You pulled off the glove from his hand and placed a soft kiss on it. His big, calloused hand gave you the comfort you needed now, long fingers lacing with yours in an attempt to calm you down. It would have been a nice moment under different circumstances.

Suddenly Soap walked in, wearing a hazmat suit, but even that wasn't enough to hide the wide grin on his face. “Okay, so we left cameras here to know if you're okay, which is how we heard everything. We agreed that you're idiots because one, we knew about the two of you all along, and two, there's no way you can run away like that to get married.”

Shaking his head, Simon leaned back against the wall as he looked up at the sergeant. “What's the point if we die here anyway?” he asked with a sigh.

To your surprise, Soap took off the helmet with a laugh. “I forgot to mention; the doc gave you the green light. You won't die. It's… I don't know, I was too busy celebrating that you'll live to listen to what he said. Come on, Lt., time to go home.”

[accio-victuuri]

May CPNs round-up! ❤️💛💚

there is bonus content included here that i haven’t talked about separately in this blog so please enjoy!

• same apple headphones 🎧

• 5/6 zsww rumor

• genki forest ad silhouette similarities, and then it was replaced lol and sadly, they had to apologize.

• more examples of brands using the cp tactic ( allegedly lol )

• same city @ beijing 5/12/2024 but didn’t last long cause wyb had to fly to shanghai for the olympic qualifiers.

• jamy wee jeans

• fake story of wyb giving gifts to the ADLAD team and him visiting the crew which led to more people sharing some of their own szd stories that i didn’t add on the main post so i’m adding here instead. i think this started some conversation on what people heard irl about the two & how those who don’t really follow this pairing have encountered them. whether that means they are in a romantic relationship or not, we don’t know. these are all fake!!!! 💀💀💀

Let me tell you a story. A friend of mine told me that one of her college classmates participated in a hip-hop dance competition (SDC). Although she didn’t get a particularly impressive ranking, she was one of the top 100. Then she saw Xiao Zhan, and everyone knew that they were in a relationship, so they didn’t hesitate to visit him on set. What I said is just a rough estimate. I don’t have a membership so I can’t send pictures. I can swear that what I said is true, not a single word is fake, unless my friend lied to me, but I believe in my friend’s character

I'd also like to contribute a relatively old story, although many people should know it hahaha, that is, the two of them share resources. Someone around my friend is a staff member, and has read the confidentiality agreement of Zan Studio, which seems to say that there can be no conflict of interest with Bo, and to satisfy Bo to the greatest extent. Because Zan has a studio, resources are more free, and if there is something suitable for Bo, he will contact him directly. ( this was in 2020 )

Then I will also share my own experience. I participated in a New Year's Eve party. The lady sitting next to me is from the industry. She is not familiar with Bo Xiao, but the artist she knows has a good relationship with Xiao Xiao. The artist told her that Xiao had a boyfriend in the CQL crew. The artist told Xiao not to date him. Xiao Zhan said firmly, "I will not break up with my boyfriend."

I'll tell you one, my friend's sister is Jixiangkong's assistant, her sister doesn't like xx, um, she's a wyb fan, my friend knows I'm a fan and told me that her sister took a photo with wyb, I asked her indirectly to find out, she said her sister refused to tell, it was around 2019, she suddenly told me that her sister was a little bit abnormal, one day she said for no reason that wyb has turned gay.

My friend is a director of a certain Spring Festival Gala, and his family also works in this field. He has some connections. He used to think I was a fan of him and told me not to be a fan because he likes men. (To prevent screenshots, I can't say whether he is older or younger)

I'll also contribute one. My friend's dance teacher has been with the CQL crew, and after knowing that my friend likes Xiao Xiao, she told my friend that they were dating in CQL. My friend was almost broken. (She wf) ( wf means weifen = solo fan )

• a more comprehensive post about the airpods max cpn 🎧

• 5/14/24 xz’s selfie candies and i forgot to add another bit here, particularly the view from the window— it’s the backdrop for yibo’s chanel magazine cover. i would imagine it’s a popular scenic view but i’m just putting it out there 📷

then after the selfies, xzs released a short video of that day when it was taken. people did cpn of course but i’m just adding those here. so what we noticed is the two birds at the start, lovebirds? and then panning to xz who some say hid his phone or was looking at it then took it away because the camera was on him.

then a very galaxy brain one, and a total coincidence — outside the car, a police car passed by and people are like omg fpu ( formed police unit ) lol. but like if you watch that part, it was a perfect shot.

then some fans noticed similarities with the shots from wyb’s b&w photography 📷

• this next one is not really a cpn but more of me being proud of them and the works they produced. their popularity/traffic is important & definitely has helped them get projects, but we know that they give it their all when it becomes to being actors. the photos below are of the chinese films booth in cannes with both their movies and then the May schedule of their dramas’ reruns in satellite tv networks.

who would have known, they were once these two newbies who wanted to become actors and here we are — both of them have a solid body of work. 🤍

• clowning related to xz’s legend of zanghai poster

• 5/15 candies that revolves around wyb’s performance for the olympics opening. most especially his green + pink shoes 💕

• evisu x palace shirt that sneakily has their names on it

• 5/16 LRLG post and interpretations and then add-on speculation of relating this to the milan vlog and what some shots could mean

• their tissue endorsements matching so well. 💙♥️ and representing their cql character colors too!

• 5/20/24 zsww fake rumor - new clothes for jianguo, bickering and eating spicy food

• numbers playing for 520. 9785 and 828

• palace x wedgwood collab 🍓

• cpfs having discussions and comparisons to yy’s scandal to prove that bjyxszd

• 5/23/2024 fake rumor house

• XZ’s look for an endorsement Ad ( Liushen ). the whole fit and even the brand used screams WYB! 😂

• rumor compilation from 给博肖加点小料bot. from the past dates 2/24, 3/3, 3/26, 4/3, 4/29, 5/21 and 5/29.

• xz buying mcdo toys 🍔

• in the li-ning video released 5/31 xz was asked if he plays badminton and what he does during off times and the first thing he said is talk to his friend(s). who is that friend? is this the friend from the crew? 😜 no seriously. then after that he mentioned playing badminton, running and keeping fit. but the fact that he said talking to his friend? wow.

• the pink wedding theme potential from xz’s evelom outfit 💕💕🌸🌸

<<< previous month

[skaluli]

half ass tuefort because i want to draw backgrounds but i cant draw backgrounds

solider doodle that i was then gonna make a """finish piece""" out of but when i started doing the thinner/"cleaner" lineart it looked worse so i didnt even attempt finish/colour/etc it. i just wanted to draw a bunch of stickers and junk on his helmet.

more mlp x tf2 i still need to do refs of everyone i cant remember if i posted my big sketch of all of them so uhhh have some very old and rough shit

and me somewhat explaining my ideas for each concept

this was my draft reply to someone asking about it on instagram. yes i have to draft my long replies/responses so i can re read it a million times before sending it a day later because i forgot im not talking to myself in a void.

i just realised now, did i never upload my demoman kirin here??

shits one of my favourites my bad people. drawn back at the start of feb.

also third image with the single balloon pyro whats next to it is an idea i had for a pyro oc

a lot of stickers, a lot of sparkles the colours still need work so thats probably why i stopped doing it

more pony, dragon pyro with clipped wings. also the idea instead of solider having his normal army helmet he has the armor from the crystal pony king sombra war

i love how i say i have nothing to post only to realise i technically do, i just dont share it with anyone lmao

i cant be bother to find all the dates in which i drew these. just know that theyre old by a few months to like the start of the year(??)

[poeticmystery]

OMG, hiii!!! Never saw anyone taking requests for Niccolo before. 👀

How about Next-door neighbor Niccolo hc? Being able to see his window through yours 😮‍💨

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ NEIGHBOURS (n.g.)

summary : in which a certain boy spent his whole childhood trying to get rid of you, only to realize that was the opposite of what he wanted.

w.c. : about 1k

a/n : eughhh i hate how this turned out but i told myself i had to get smth out

lowkey loved this request tho ty! 🫶🏻

also i might’ve spelt neighbours wrong idk

wattpad: poet1cmystery

warning(s) : stalking? bru idk 😭

| niccolo govender masterlist | navigation |

niccolo govender had known you since you were both children. for almost his whole life you had lived beside him. your families were close, which meant many nights were spent having dinner together. despite trying to get rid of you, it seemed he never had been able to escape the sight of your beaming face.

so, when the two of you were younger, you were close. but, with age, you guys grew apart, and now only spoke at aforementioned dinners. he hadn’t tried to stop it.

that didn’t mean he forgot about you. he’d see you in the halls, talking to your various friends. sometimes you’d wave to him. sometimes you wouldn’t.

lately, he’d see you at his house more and more. you began getting closer to camila, and spending more time with the girl, consequently seeing niccolo more often.

it all led up to one night, one life-changing night in nicco’s mind.

he had been lying in his bed, then saw a bright light flickering on and off from outside of the glass pane. after a few moments of the interruption, he pulled back the fabric of his curtains, coming face to face with your tired frame, a yellow flashlight in your hands.

he noticed how your grin spread as he locked eyes with you, your pretty smile reaching your eyes.

the sight puts a smile on his own face.

you gesture for him to open his window, as you slide open the glass on yours. he chuckles a bit at the request, but fulfills your wish anyways, giving you space to crawl across the old tree separating your houses, and into his bedroom.

his bedroom, where you had spent countless nights before, and were about to spend another.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

another time your parallel windows came in handy was when he was lost deep into the video hame he was playing.

you had been blowing up his phone, calling him, texting him, anything to get the boy’s attention. all of your extensive efforts proved to be futile when you went without answer for nearly an hour.

his eyes were glued to the screen in front of him, until he saw another flashing light from outside of his dark window, illuminating the bare branches of the tree in front of it.

after he finished the round, he took off his headset, thanks to the incessant flashing going on. he was worried you were in some sort of danger, and that was the only reason you could get his attention.

the thought didn’t make sense, but it was the best he had. but, instead of your expected pained imagine, he just saw you, holding up your phone and pointing at it. you mouthed the words ‘answer me,’ still jabbing a finger at the device.

he made sure his window was unlocked as he had left it, just incase, even in the dead of a wintery night, you’d want to sneak over to his house.

the fact he had ended the game for no reason made him roll his eyes, but he couldn’t help but have a growing smile at the fact you wanted to talk to him so bad. he liked feeling important, and that was exactly how he felt with you.

that was all it was, he had convinced himself. he didn’t like you. he just liked being feeling needed, special. it had nothing to do with the fact that his heart rate would pick up when you smiled, or the way his jaw would unintentionally clench when he saw you with another boy.

you just made him feel special. that was all he wanted.

right?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

the most recent instance of your windows proving useful was something that benefitted him.

it was a bit past sunset, though not too late one summer evening. he had been sitting by his window, debating on going over to your room. despite living next to each other, he hadn’t seen much if you lately.

or heard much from you. he hated how much the fact worried him.

suddenly, your bedroom light flickered on. your curtains were sheer, making it easy for nicco to invade your privacy.

he knew it was wrong. god, it was so wrong, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

you stumbled in, being slightly pushed by a boy who looked to be a year or two older than you. you seemed to be enjoying it… sort of?

like it was your birthday, but you didn’t get the gifts you had wanted. still happy, but mildly awkward or upset, if that made sense.

before he knew it, he was walking through the night air, pounding at your front door.

it took a few moments, and a few more knocks, but eventually he was greeted with your familiar face.

shit.

he had just come over here, for no reason. he didn’t know what to say. you looked jaw-dropping.

how did he not notice that sooner?

his eyes ran over your figure, his mouth opening and closing multiple times. here he was, the typically rude, stand-offish boy, looking like s fish in front of you.

“my uh, my mom wants you.”

your eyebrows furrow. that was the worst thing he could’ve said. his mom wasn’t even home.

what the fuck was he thinking by doing this? what did he think would happen?

well, now you were shooing the other guy out of your house, small mumbled apologies tumbling past your lips as you slipped on a pair of shoes.

the guy was pissed, but got out after seeing niccolo glare at him, the act going unnoticed by you.

he walked back towards his house, you following him along, probably expecting some emergency.

safe to say, even with his parents and sister out of the house, you still spent plenty of time in his room.

divider made by h-aewo!

niccolo govender taglist: @trentknd @waterisnotreal0 lmk if you’d like to be added!

[owlwithanapple]

Bird & Fox 🔞

This is my first time writing erotic content🔞. I'm still learning, I hope you all will like it😘.

If you have any ideas, you are welcome to tell me at any time😆. Don’t be shy ya🥺

Chapter 15

Passion Or Juicy?

Jason Pov

In the morning, my naked body lay on the comfortable and soft bed, enjoying the bright sunshine shining through the window onto my skin. The room was surrounded by a light and fresh floral scent, which was neither strong nor vulgar, made me feel so comfortable. I put my hands on the pillow leaned my head back, staring at the rotating fan hanging on the ceiling in a daze.

I turned around buried my face in the pillow with a floral scent, which made me feel very warm and ease. But it was strange, I never smelled such a nice floral scent at home. I got up from the bed in confusion and saw a few clothes scattered on the floor. I bent down to pick them up took a closer look. It was a black high-necked dress for women.

Did I have one-night stand last night? Why don't I remember it? Who is that woman? I walked out the room with the skirt in my hand, curious who was in my house. I heard the sound of hair dryer coming from the bathroom. I stood outside the door leaned over to listen, but the sound of the hair dryer in the bathroom had stopped. I was just thinking about opening the door and going in to see who it was when a clear and gentle singing voice came from inside.

“You're just too good to be true ～ Can't take my eyes off of you ～”
“You'd be like Heaven to touch ～I wanna hold you so much ～”

Wow… this girl can really sing, the melody is beautiful and melodious. Without thinking much, I turned the doorknob and pushed it inside. The girl was facing the mirror with her back to me. I felt the girl looked familiar at first sight. From the back, she looked like Y/N. She had beautiful long brown hair and wore a white masculine shirt. She tied her hair up and turned to me smiled. It was my fucking beloved Y/N! "

I was so surprised that forgot how to blink. A bunch of questions that I couldn't solve emerged in my mind. Pause for a moment, let me calm down and sort out the doubts in my head. Why did she appear in my house? Why did she wear my shirt? Why does my bed smell like flowers? Why does she sing so softly and beautifully? What the hell is going on now?

She was walking towards me now, it was fucking serious bad. She wearing a white shirt that was completely unbuttoned, revealing her plump breasts and black lace underwear. The sexy black underwear was seen through the white shirt. Not only that, she also showed her sexy collarbone and her long slender legs.

I remembered something... I looked at my lower body, and I was fucking naked! I was standing in front of her fully naked! And I fucking stared at her for so long! Subconsciously, I used the skirt in my hand to cover my lower body, looking very embarrassed and a loss. She covered her mouth with hand to avoid my sight and laughed there, what the hell happened today!

After she finished laughing, she breathed a sigh of relief and walked towards me. I couldn't resist the temptation take a peek at her half-naked body, but immediately looked away. What happened? Is she always like this? Why don't I remember it? Are we so familiar with each other that we are half-naked? Am I sick or is she still sick?

When my mind was still in a mess, she put her arms around my neck. I didn't understand why for a moment, she pulled me into her plump breasts, and my face was buried between her breasts. At that moment, I really thought something big was going to happen. I felt the heat on her body and heard her cute laughter. She hugged me excitedly while laughing, "Good morning, sexy, did you sleep well?"

I panicked and grabbed her arm moved back. "Huh?! What the hell is going on now! Why are you walking in my house dressed like this?!"

I saw her smile turn into a confused expression, and I realized I said the wrong thing. She folded her hands under her chest. "Eh? I usually dress like this... I was going to ask you what's wrong, you looked at me like a ghost."

I was confused... I pointed at her lower body and slowly moved to her face. "You usually dress like this? Are you sure?"

She pushed my hand away, put her hands on her waist, said in a somewhat impatient tone, "I wear it for my boyfriend, is it weird?"

I didn't hear it wrong, she said she wore it for her boyfriend... She has a boyfriend... I held her shoulders and became nervous. "Wait a minute! Who the hell is your boyfriend!?"

She slowly raised her hand and pointed her index finger at me. "My boyfriend is you, Jason Todd."

I am her boyfriend... but I never confessed to her face to face... how did we jump to this kind of relationship "Are you sure? You are not lying to me? This is fake, right?"

She pulled me to the living room pushed me to sit on the sofa. She boldly sat on my thighs. I could feel her lower body rubbing against my dick! She held my face with both hands "Why would I lie to you? Or are you tired of me? Want to get rid of me? Want to break up with me?"

I grabbed her arm and explained hurriedly "It's not like that! I..."

Suddenly she kissed my lips gently, as if it was a dragonfly touching the water. Her sweet lips left my lips, and a faint smile appeared on her face "Can you tell me what's wrong? Don't scare me."

She was upset, she was scared. My helplessness hurt her and this unreal love. I calmed down and continued, "I'm sorry... I scared you. I feel so unreal that you and I actually dating."

She was confused by my strange words, "Why is it unreal?"

I told her my true feelings with sadness, "You are gentle, cute and kind, completely different from me. But we are really together."

There was a hint of sadness on her face, she hid in my shoulder and whispered, "I've told you many times. I like Jason Todd. I don't care if we are the same or different, I only love you."

Fuck...what am I doing...it's just a fake love, or an illusion of happiness, so what? I like her it's true, I love her it's true. This is the love I want, the story of us walking hand in hand because we love each other. I raised my hand and hugged her tightly to comfort her, "I'm sorry, princess. I had a nightmare and said some strange things to scare you. It's okay now."

She left my shoulder, her tearful eyes staring at me. I used my fingers gently wipe away her anxiety and tears, and she finally restored my favorite smile, "Stupid Jason, you really scared me."

I laughed softly and exhaled, "I was not only scared, but also surprised."

She tilted her head with confusion on her face, "Surprise?"

I rubbed her thighs with my rough hands. Since it was unreal, why didn't I enjoy this moment? I said in a sexy and flirting tone, "I woke up and saw my little princess sitting on my thighs in such a sexy and coquettish way. I was excited just thinking about it."

She moved my hands away. I wanted to ask her if she didn't like me touching her suddenly. Unexpectedly, she put my hands on her plump breasts. I really didn't expect it! Her small waist twisted gently, and her butt rubbed again and again, then she looked at me shyly, "Do you like it?"

Fuck. My fucking God. This situation made me so horny. It's hard to extinguish the fire. I never thought I would see such a seductive side of her. I didn't even imagine it. This is simply the happiest moment in my life, a love I have never experienced. I never knew I would have such passion and enthusiasm today.

I looked at Y/N sitting on my lap. The white shirt vaguely revealed the extremely seductive temperament of the dark black underwear. Through the white shirt and underwear, my hand touched her breasts, and super soft. I hugged her waist and let her stick to me. I licked and bit my lips with a smirk and told her, "I fucking love you so much. I want to strip you naked and eat you in one bite."

Her hands slowly moved up from my chest to my neck, and she moved closer to my face. I could feel her breathing, we were only a short distance away. If I were closer, I could give her thirsty lips a hot kiss. She kissed my cheek as sweet as a piece of candy and whispered in my ear, "Hey sexy, last night wasn't enough?"

Last night? We had sex? Was our progress fast or slow? How did she feel when having sex with me? Did she feel satisfied? I put my doubts aside. I couldn't suppress the joy in my heart when I heard what she just said. I got up and threw her on the sofa. My mood was complicated but happy. Complex in this unreal moment, happy in falling in love with her.

Now she is in front of me, her beautiful hair scattered and messy, her white shirt disheveled, her breasts wrapped in sexy black underwear, her slender waist, her sexy and round buttocks covered only by a lace. She exudes a strong charm and sexiness from head to toe. Fucking hell, how did fate let me meet this beautiful fucking woman in the world?

I stretched out my claws to her body, and slowly moved a finger from her collarbone to her chest. Her body trembled because of my touch, such a lovely response made me want to do something bad. I stole a glance at her face, curious what expression she would have, and I saw her covering her face with her hands, but I could vaguely see that she was blushing.

This reaction is fucking erotic and cute. I swallowed saliva and took a deep breath. Maybe I can find her sensitive spot now, then what will her reaction be. I gently drew circles on her plump breasts with my fingers. I couldn't see her naked body because of the layer of underwear. The less I could see, the more excited I became. I tried to touch her nipples covered by the underwear with my fingers.

"Kya!" Suddenly I heard a cute voice, I saw her covering her mouth with her hands. That cute voice was hers? Damn, it was her voice? Did I hear it right? I drew circles around her nipples through the layer of underwear and then rubbed her nipples, and her body gradually became excited. Jason Todd... No the fucking way... It's so happy to enter the stage of making love with the girl I love the most.

Maybe I really can't hold it back anymore, her body is full of beauties that I want to eat. My fingers slid from her nipples to her abdomen, her body trembled and twitched again. I couldn't hold back my own evil claws, and stretched my evil hands between her thighs to gently rub and massage. Wait the hell? This wet feeling... could it be...

Her hand was taken away from her mouth in a panic, and grabbed my hand between her thighs. Her face was already red, as if she didn't want me to see between her thighs. I was curious and wanted to use my fingers to explore, but she was at a loss and shyly held my hand tightly, "Don't look!"

I was shocked and didn't move. "Sorry! Is it too fast?"

She looked at me with her eyes, her face full of shyness. "No... I'm just embarrassed."

I was confused. Why was she embarrassed? Or was it we hadn't reached the stage of making love yet... I didn't want to hurt her body and wanted to respect her wishes. I gently touched her cheek with my other hand. "Tell me why."

She avoided my gaze and looked away. Then she thought for a while and mustered up her courage to tell me, "It's like this every time. We haven't started yet... then I get so wet..."

It's like this every time? How many times have we done it? How can she be so wet? ! I realized where the wetness just now came from. It was foreplay before making love. It just a simple touch, and she had already started to react. Damn it, a foreplay can make her wet, and she said such cute words, I fucking stayed rational. "Little princess, only two of us here, don't be embarrassed. It's normal for you to have this reaction."

"It's all because of you! It's all your fault! You made me like this..." She blurted out in embarrassment.

I couldn't hold back my joy and laughed "Hahaha! Damn! You really are..."

"You're still laughing! Asshole Jason!" She complained in anger.

I exhaled , thankful she liked me touching her, fearing my skills in bed didn't satisfy her "Little princess, I want to make you feel comfortable. As long as you feel comfortable, I'll enjoy it, and that's fucking enough."

Her eyes showed joy, and her hands gently stroked my face "I want you, just you."

After hearing those words, I no longer hesitated. We already confirmed our relationship. I leaned over and kissed her lips. She closed her beautiful eyes, put her arms around my neck pulled me closer. This kiss was not a gentle one, but a hungry one. The two of us were entangled together as if a beast and a little rabbit were combining. I was the beast who longed for the pleasure brought by the little rabbit.

I licked her lips with my tongue, she smiled slightly understand my intention. She opened her mouth slightly let my tongue enter her mouth, and kept entangled with her tongue in her mouth. What an exciting and comfortable pleasure, the moment of contact, the whole person was deeply immersed in it and couldn't extricate myself. After a passionate kiss, I kissed her cheek and slowly licked her neck and sucked it, leaving my mark.

"Hah...Jason..." I heard her moaning, which made me even more excited.

I slowly moved down to her plump breasts, I reached out and grabbed her breasts with one hand. I left my mark and kissed her breasts, then buried my face between them to smell her scent. It was such a wonderful feeling that I had never felt before, and I was so happy until forgot myself. Her fingers touched my face and I moved away from her, curious about what she wanted. She sat up and took off the shirt, leaving only the underwear.

She unbuttoned her bra let the straps slipped off her shoulders. She took off the bra and threw it aside. Her eyes looked at me and then looked away. I put my hands on her cheeks and kissed her lips, hoping that she would feel more at ease with me. I kissed her nose lightly, "Fuck, it's so great."

She laughed and said, "Pervert."

I pushed her down on the sofa and licked my lips. Her naked body, her seductive body, simply ignited my lust, "Little princess, I advise you not to fan the flames, it will make me more excited."

She covered her breasts with her hands and showed her eyes looking forward to me, "Because it's you, I am also excited."

Her words have ignited the passion deep in my heart. I took a deep breath and told her, "Look forward to it, princess. You don't have a chance to stop."

"I have never regretted it." She answered me with a smile.

Damn... Such a confident look, I really don't care about anything anymore, I don't want to stop. What the heck unreal feeling, so what, cherishing the moment is the most important thing. Now it’s my life with her, everything I’ve always wanted to have. She sleeps next to me, I sleep next to her, and my life is as simple and happy as I want.

I took off her panties threw them aside, and moved my hands between her thighs to rub them gently. She was so eager for me to get wet enough that could put them in directly without any lubricant. But I didn't want this wonderful moment end so soon, I ran my fingers back and forth over her clit between her legs. She tried to relax while I played with her clit.

I kept rubbing her clit where she wanted me and kissing her neck passionately. Her clit was fucking wet and relaxed enough so I tried to stick a finger in her clit in and out. What happened to her body! It was so wet and hot inside, I pulled my finger out and licked it to taste her taste, it was so fucking lovable.

She tried to focus on enjoying herself as much as possible without stressing, she gave up control of her body. She stayed so relaxed and soft for me, she finally got my treat - two thick fingers were pushed inside, so slowly and carefully that she had to resist the urge to lift her hips into them. Before expecting too much, I started fucking her with two fingers. She let my fingers fuck her sweet clit and I'd make her cum straight out of her.

"Hah...wait a minute - I'm going to -" she told me in an excited voice.

I shook my head with a satisfied smirk on my face, "Fuck...how much do you want me to fuck you? Such a wet clit is so delicious to see."

"Please! No! I can't do it anymore! -" She closed her eyes tightly kept making that sexy gasping sound that I loved to hear.

I kissed her temple tenderly and pulled out my fingers to see how wet they were. I smiled with satisfaction, it felt so damn satisfying. I touched her head and said, "Little princess, it's not time to rest yet."

My other hand quickly played with her cute little clit again, I let her close her eyes as her body processed the new stimulation, wiping her mind clean and bringing her closer to orgasm. I wouldn't stop rubbing her, feeding her wet fucking clit that suddenly blew heat down her spine. I saw her clenched fists, body twitching, damn it.

She let out seductive gasp "Damn, that feels so good. That's - oh no -" and then she cum. I pulled out two fingers saw they were already satisfied with the love juice inside her. Her body was so damn suitable for mine. We both longed to be entangled and embrace each other.

I licked her love juice and looked at her who was still panting. Sweat was secreted from her neck and breasts, and her breathing gradually calmed down. She sat up, her legs trembling slightly. She looked at me and lowered her head. I shortened the distance between her and approached her cute face. Her eyes flashed with charming brilliance. I knew what she was expecting. I closed my eyes and kissed her lips gently.

I smiled, "Are you satisfied? Little princess."

She blushed and leaned her head on my arms, "Of course. I am a little tired."

Sorry, little princess. I really don't feel fucking tired. What just happened just foreplay, I haven't released my desire yet. I must fuck her while she still has energy. I picked her up and walked into the room. I threw her on the bed, and she fell on the bed with a very excited expression. I combed my bangs back, "Don't stop. Little princess, I fucking want you."

She glanced at me slightly "Jason..."

I didn't wait for any response from her, because I saw her expression clearly longing for me. I climbed to the big comfy bed and my naked body was on top of hers. My hands moved to her breasts and started rubbing her nipples.

I could see the look in her eyes, my hands gently squeezing her thighs. "Talk to me. What do you want?"

"I want you." She said again. I fucking love her.

"I want you too." I smiled.

Words are no longer needed. I pulled her over and looked down at her tempting breasts. "Wow." I looked at her , she was shy and speechless for a moment. Her eyes met mine as my mouth drifted to her breasts. With one hand, I grabbed her soft breast and brought it to my mouth. My tongue reached out and flicked her nipple. A small whimper left her lips when I wrapped my lips around her nipple, tightening around it. I ran my fingers through her messy hair and my mouth hungrily moved back and forth between the breasts.

"You're so amazing," I said.

She blush...and let out a gasp of pleasure as I kissed her labia. I grabbed her legs with my hands and spread them apart, placing one on my shoulder and the other on the bed. I closed my eyes and kissed her pussy up and down as if I were kissing a lover. Take a deep breath and inhale her raw natural scent.

Finally, she opened her eyes and made eye contact with me. My tongue pressed against her fucking tasty clit, sliding up quickly, parting her folds around my tongue. I taste fucking divine. Once my juices hit her taste buds, she kept moaning.

I stretched out my hands to rub her nipples, holding her against me. A moan escaped her lips as I quickly flicked my tongue over her clit. My free hand slid to her pussy. A finger circled the entrance to her vagina. Slowly, slide it in. I curled my fingers upwards and slowly began to move it in and out.

She closed her eyes and threw her head back, letting her body fully appreciate the pleasure it was now receiving. Her legs twitched as my tongue and arms moved faster. One of my hands moved to her nipple and you pinched it, getting her attention.

"Wait! I'm gonna cum!" Her voice was higher pitched.

"Do you want to squirt for me?"

"Yes! Fuck!" Her back arched as her body shook.

I was hit in the face with her squirt. I opened my mouth and drank it in, the taste was so fucking addictive. I removed my fingers from her and quickly rubbed her clit. I pushed my face into her pussy and licked it back and forth. I growled excitedly "Fuck you, you're amazing."

I knelt in front of her and pulled her hips against me. I rubbed my raw cock against her clit, getting myself covered in her juices. How long had I waited for this moment? I put one of her legs on my shoulders and rested the other.

She suddenly flirted with me "Sexy, how you want my pussy."

"Let me fuck your lovely pussy. Please, I need to feel you." I kissed her neck softly. My hips rocked, eager to thrust into her.

"Shit! Ah — Fuck me, Jason. I want it so bad, I want you to fill me up so bad."

I rushed straight to her without any hesitation. She looked at my face. Her face scrunched up as she felt me ​​deep inside her. Put those few inches of my cock inside her and take as many as she wants."Little princess, that's it. You have me."

My voice is low and sensual. I slowly pulled back and penetrated her again, harder this time. Her loud moans filled the room as I slowly inch by inch pushed my cock into her. The way I can fuck her faster, she reached out and grabbed the sheets pulled them, her legs began to shake, and my cock hit her g-spot over and over...

"Oh my god! Jason! Fuck me!" I kept slamming into her.

She kept her eyes on me as my hips rolled toward her at a fast pace. The feeling of her wet pussy clenching around me and pushed me over the edge. "Fuck! You the fucking best! Little princess! I'm gonna cum..." I leaned down and bite her neck. As she moaned loudly, my cock began to throb and I could feel the cum I had pumped into her. I moaned her name softly. As I lay on top of her, she caressed my body with her hands, letting me catch my breath.

I pulled my cock out of her body and saw some semen flowing out of her cute clitoris. It was my fucking semen. I took a breath lay beside her and blurted out "Fuck... I'm so fucking satisfied..."

She turned around and leaned on my arms "I'm so tired..."

I gently stroked her sexy body "The Hell, I'm the one moving, why are you tired?"

She shyly hid in my arms "I'm tired of being fucked by you."

I closed my eyes and hugged her tightly in my arms "Hahaha, I can make you tired every day, just leave it to me with peace of mind."

"Get up and take a shower, you have work later." She patted my back.

I was a little confused "Work? What work?"

She looked at me in surprise "Hey, the famous tyrant Red Hood of Gotham City wants to skip work!"

I heard what she said, I subconsciously tensed up and let go of her, and I accidentally fell off the bed. I stared at the ceiling in a daze. She knew I was Red Hood. What the hell was going on? When did she know? I was confused and hurriedly climbed onto the bed again. She suddenly pounced on me and she held my head tightly between her breasts.

I felt it difficult to breathe and tried to push her away, but suddenly I fell into darkness. Until a dog barking woke me up completely, and my face was pressed by a corgi. I got up directly, and he jumped away immediately. I looked at the corgi it was Kirin. I fucking remembered. I took Kirin back to manor to take care of him for a while because Y/N was sick and hadn't recovered yet.

What the fuck was that dream just now? Was it a dream that I had sex with her? Was it a dream that I officially dated her? Was I having a fucking wet dream? Am I so horny? Fuck my dream! I lifted the quilt and looked inside. My fucking dick was already erect, and it was fucking hard...

I looked at my dick and babbled, "Fuck, Y/N so fucking erotic. I really want to fuck her... How the hell am I going to face her in the future..."

Chapter 15 End.

⚠️If you have any ideas, don’t be shy. Just leave a comment below. Your opinions would be valuable and will be added in story. ♥️💙

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AO3 Chapter 15

AO3 Bird & Fox By owlwithanapple

♥️ AO3 Leave a kudos and bookmark to motivate me🥰

[thatsrightice]

are there any excerpts from Crosby’s memoir about Gale you could post, if that’s alright? I’m really curious about him!

Thank you for the ask, I am more than happy to oblige! Just as a little note, I think both Egan and Cleven were nicknamed Bucky, but the show made one Buck and one Bucky so that people wouldn’t get them confused. Also, Crosby never really mentions Cleven without mentioning Egan which is kind of a testament to their relationship. There’s a lot of them btw so most of them will be under the cut! :)

*

"You fly tomorrow," Bucky Elton told us. He was Squadron Operations Officer. Both leaders had the same nickname. In the Group we had Bucky Egan, Bucky Elton, and Bucky Cleven. Cleven and Egan were best friends, top flyers, devil-may-care. All the 100th pilots wanted to be like them.

*

"What I can't really handle is that when Cleven and Egan were still around, the men were happier. With them gone, the heart of the 100th has stopped beating." - Harry Crosby

*

Then come the four squadron commanders, with Bucky Egan and Bucky Cleven together. They, more than any other of our leaders, had the real Air Corps raunch, their hats cocked on the backs of their heads. Egan's white fleece-lined jacket is his trademark. They both are wearing white scarves.

Egan and Cleven trade quips with their men as they walk forward. I don't normally use the word "debonair," but that's what they are. Bucky Cleven and Bucky Egan are like what their men saw in the movie I Wanted Wings. The men wanted leaders like that. Cleven's real first name is Gale, and Egan's is John, but I never heard either name used.

The two Buckys talk like Hollywood. The first time I ever saw Cleven was at the Officers' Club. For some reason he wanted to talk with me, and he said, "Taxi over here, Lootenant."

*

The Group Navigator [Omar Gonzalez] is a first lieutenant from San Antonio, Texas. Because of his skin color and his quiet diffidence, he doesn't belong up there with the boisterous, swaggering Egan and Cleven. Egan calls him "Pancho." Cleven calls him "Omar the Tent Maker."

*

When we all assembled on the airfield for parade, our lines were straggly and our men out of step. When the squadrons stood by for inspection, Colonel LeMay didn't see Cleven. When he asked where the squadron commander was, the first sergeant responded, "He took to the woods." This did not surprise LeMay who had heard from our previous commanding officers, Turner and Huglin, that Cleven and Egan were at the root of the 100th's raunchy discipline.

On the next day, Bucky even gathered up the enlisted men who worked at 350th Squadron Headquarters and told them he was going to make up for the indignity they had suffered the day before. He took them out to the flight line and loaded them up in an old stripped-down B-17E, which our group brass used for joyrides and taxi service. Since it had no guns or armaments, it was light and Cleven could fly it like a P-39 fighter plane.

Apparently Cleven had phoned some of his pilot training classmates who were now assigned to P-47's and arranged a surprise. The E was hardly off the runway when it was "attacked" by three American fighters.

For the next twenty minutes, Cleven-whose superb skill as a pilot no one questioned-wrung that old plane out as though it was a Piper Cub. He twisted and turned and plunged, all in a simulated dog fight with his three fighter pilot chums. The three Thunderbolts buzzed the 17 and came within inches of it.

The ground-duty enlisted men in the plane probably never forgot that flight, but it hardly was what the 100th needed at that time. When the fight was reported by the British Home Guard observation team, the report did the 100th no good.

*

The "Two Buckys," John Egan, commander of the 418th Squadron, and Gale Cleven, of the 350th, were the heart of the original 100th-dashing, undisciplined, superb pilots, exactly what Hollywood expected them to be. When they were shot down, even over Bremen (October 8, 1943), and Egan over Münster (October 10), the 100th was devastated-and a new era began.

*

We knew that Bucky Cleven's plane had been hit badly just before Regensburg, and we had heard that he and the pilot, Norman Scott, had differed about what to do. When we got on the ground in Africa, there seemed to be no tension between the two of them, and Scott was laughing and joking just like the rest of us.

According to the Lay report, after the hits, the pilot had pleaded with Cleven to abandon ship. When Cleven refused to ring the bell, Scott had gotten up and started to leave alone. At this point, "although the odds were heavily against him, Major Cleven's reply was as follows: 'You son of a bitch, you sit there and take it."

Lay's report continued, "These strong words were heard over interphone and had a magical effect on the rest of the crew, and they stuck to their guns."

For this, Colonel Lay recommended Bucky Cleven for the Congressional Medal of Honor. The citation was scaled down a bit, and he did get the Distinguished Service Cross.

This story electrified the base, a triumph for the group's most admired twosome. Already Cleven and Egan were the 100th Group heroes. New crews almost immediately began to talk like the two squadron commanders. In the Officers' Club or at Group Ops, young flyers circled around them, and watched the two fly missions with their hands. Enlisted men adored them. Pilots wanted to fly the way the two Buckys did. Back in the days before anyone knew what a role model was, Bucky Cleven and Bucky Egan were the role models of the 100th.

When the story appeared in The Saturday Evening Post it made Bucky Cleven a national hero.

*

From the tail: "High squadron lead gone. There it goes."

It can't be. Bucky Cleven is in that plane. He is indestructible.

No German alive could get him.

*

The British lorry drives off with our profuse thanks. Just as we climb into one of the base personnel carriers, Colonel Harding drives up in his sedan, with Bucky Egan behind him in another car.

A volley of words.

"We thought you had it!"

"We got reports that four chutes got out.”

"Did you see Bucky Cleven get it?"

We take the enlisted men to their quarters. Since we have not eaten since morning, we need food. We look at our watches: 1930 hours. The Flying Mess will be closed. We head for the Officers' Club.

As we enter, officers, ground and air alike, look up. Stunned.

"It's Blakely's crew!"

Pandemonium. Every man in the club, even the enlisted waiters, rush up and pound us on the back. At least half of them offer us their drinks.

"We thought you bought it!"

"They reported four chutes."

"Did you see Major Cleven blow up?"

*

Bucky Cleven, the impervious, the invincible, was gone. If he couldn't make it, who could? His good friend, Bucky Egan, didn't talk much that night.

*

The loss of Bucky Cleven over Bremen and Bucky Egan over Münster seemed to have cut the heart right out of the the 100th. Without them the 100th was a shadow.

*

Bucky Cleven and Bucky Egan, the two squadron leaders who went down over Bremen and Münster, were the very soul of Romanticism. They hated discipline. I told Landra that discipline was called "chicken shit." Like the two Buckys, our pilots all wanted to be dashing individualists.

*

Jack Kidd, John Bennett, and Tom Jeffrey showed us how to win a war. Bucky Cleven and Bucky Egan gave the 100th its personality. Bob Rosenthal helped us want to win the war.

[clairedaring]

preliminary thoughts on my stand-in ep.6

i actually have quite a few thoughts on msi ep 6 but because i was/am busy moving out and settling in a new house this week, i completely forgot to join the msi discussion space on twitter 🥲

perhaps if i have time this weekend, i'll have a proper post for my thoughts. but i'm also very scared of accidentally spoiling things for others (although i do think non-novel reader audience are spoiling themselves way more with their 95% accurate theories than my vague novel spoilers here and there)

but in general, i really like the following points:

i like how confused ming looked throughout ep6 because you can feel that there's this conflicting feeling in him about trying to get close with joe 2.0 while still missing joe 1.0

ming getting himself a role into this film to get close with joe 2.0

i was so glad they kept joe breaking into his house again to 'ruin' his crime scene so we got that scene of him wanting to break the kintsugied cat mugs but he just couldn't bare to do so. ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

joe trying to make ming drunk was really funny because i feel like ming was fully aware of what joe was trying to do anyway but he just let himself get drunk because joe 2.0 reminded him so much of joe 1.0

joe putting ming to bed pleaseeee that's the fucking joe i know and love. being kind (to the shitty ex that kidnapped and cause you to be blacklisted from the industry) does not make you weak. and joe knows that.

sol describing joe PERFECTLY like how i've been yelling about him the past two weeks. joe is SELFLESS and HUMBLE. he simply cannot trouble others AND will take on the pain himself. -> which also explains joe choosing the worst money lender out of all the financial aid offers thrown at him

joe resisting ming during all the kisses in ep.6 until the very last kiss where ming pulled out after joe gave in •́⁠ ⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠,⁠•̀

joe refusing to believe ming could actually love joe 1.0 and choosing to think that ming still likes tong even after he saw the kintsugied cat mugs and ming saying he REALLY MISS P'JOEEEEE when he was drunk.

my stand-in ep 6 really captures well the contents of chapters 50-60 of professional body double. one of the most engrossing things about the 188 novels is how the protagonist ends up in a tangled relationship with the scum ml again in the wife chasing arc. more often than not, 188 scum mls tend to threaten to harm or isolate mcs from their friends and family. which is why i really liked how this was handled in pbd/msi because joe got to negotiate his term and deliberately chose to make this devil's deal with ming on his own, meanwhile ming isn't out there ruining sol's life and his money is gonna actually help mom ing.

[alotofpockets]

Traitor | Reneé Rapp x Singer!Reader

Where your girlfriend does nothing to shut down rumours about her dating Towa Bird

Reneé Rapp Masterlist | Words: 1.4k

-----

Going on tour at the same time as your girlfriend had seemed like a great idea in the beginning. Instead of each of you being away 6 months after each other, you'd spend approximately the same 6 months away, and would be reunited after.

However, that also meant you saw very little of each other. You tried to facetime and call as often as you could, but since you had pretty similar fanbases to Reneé, your team had decided it would be best for you to do your tour backwards, starting on the other side of the world.

One thing you loved about social media, was that people loved to share their concert clips everywhere. This way you were able to see parts of Reneé's tour even while being on the other side of the world. 

Amongst the many tiktoks of her performing, were a fair few edits of fans shipping your girlfriend with Towa Bird, her support act. You didn't blame the fans for shipping them, your relationship with Reneé was private, the fans and the media weren't aware that the two of you were together. It didn't affect you much at first, just two friends who enjoyed performing on stage together.

That changed when Reneé was doing quite the opposite of shutting down the rumours. She now added a moment in the song where she and Towa would both get on their knees and play a little too close for your liking. As well as Reneé posting about it, clearly giving the fans what they wanted.

-----

reneerapp just posted

reneerapp: These are no longer Reneé Rapp concerts, they're Towa Bird concerts now

-----

You're worried that there might be something going on between them, but you trust Reneé so you shook it off. 

As the weeks go by, you see less and less of your girlfriend. The one time you finally seemed to have some time together, Towa swooped in to ask Reneé to go for pizza. You thought Reneé would decline because you had barely seen each other all week, and she had Towa with her the whole tour, but you were wrong. “I gotta go. I'll talk to you later?” You nod, afraid your emotions would show in your voice. You were hurt that your girlfriend didn't seem to care much about spending time with you. 

With you being about halfway through your tour, you were closer to where Reneé was performing, so you decided to go to one of her shows to figure out what you should think of all of this. With a few nights off yourself, you flew over without telling your girlfriend.

You stood in the back of the crowd, hoping to not get noticed too much. Which of course a couple people did, you posed with a few for pictures before you put on a hat and blended into the crowd. 

Your heart broke seeing Reneé openly flirt with Towa on stage. The unnecessary touches and closeness was too much for you, so you retreated into the stadium. Finding Reneé's manager, you convince her to let you into Reneé's dressing room to "surprise” her. 

While Reneé was still out performing, you had plenty of time to think, and know what you wanted to say when Reneé would get to her dressing room. Still the moment she walked through the door, you forgot what you wanted to say for a moment as she enthusiastically ran over to you.

Before she was able to wrap her arms around you, you set a step back and put your hand out in front of you. “We need to talk.” A look of confusion took over her face. “Oh, is everything okay?” You let out a frustrated sigh, “No, everything is not okay.” Before you could continue your train of thought was interrupted by none other than Towa Bird herself to walk through the door. 

“Oh, hey, sorry am I interrupting something?” You look at Reneé expectantly, but when she doesn’t respond with no, it really is over for you. “You know what, no you aren’t.” Then you turn to Reneé. “I am done.” You try to storm out of the room, but Reneé grabs your arm, “Hold on. Please talk to me, what’s going on?” 

You pull your arm away from her hold on it, your eyes a mix of sadness and anger. “What’s going on, really? Do you not see what is right in front of you?” Reneé furrows her brow, “What are you talking about?”

“I am talking about the way you have been treating me. We’ve barely had a minute together, and each moment we have you cut short to hang out with Towa. You are flaunting whatever this is with Towa to the fans, and did not stop the rumours at any point. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?” 

Your words hit Reneé hard, but the only words she can find are. “I didn’t cheat on you.” A tear escaped and rolled down your cheek, “I don’t even care if that is true or not, you let the fans believe that something was going on between you and Towa and from the moment the fans noticed, you have done nothing but try to prove their points. Maybe you didn’t cheat, but you’re still a traitor.” 

Reneé steps towards you, hoping to close the distance you kept creating. “It’s not like that, I swear. The on-stage stuff it’s just a performance, Towa and I are just friends.” You shake your head. “So, you just didn’t care about my feelings, publicity was what was important. Thank you for making that clear. We are over Reneé.” You look between them while slowly nodding your head. “Well, I’ve got a plane to catch.” This time Reneé didn’t try to stop you from leaving the room.

You went right back to your tour, it was a nice distraction being surrounded by thousands of people that loved you, every single night. Tiktok was a funny place while trying to move past everything that happened, because the algorithm thought you would still like to see Reneé perform every night. 

Like your whole conversation before the breakup didn’t happen, Reneé and Towa were still acting the same way on stage. Usually you scrolled right past them, hoping that your algorithm would understand that you were no longer interested, but the current video caught your attention. Two weeks after your breakup, Reneé was kissing Towa on stage. 

The anger began to boil inside you once more, so you turned to what helped you most in managing your emotions: you picked up your guitar and started writing a new song.

Usually you wouldn’t play new songs while you hadn’t recorded them, but your feelings were currently too big, and you needed to scream them into a room full of people. So, that night you decide to play it on stage. 

What you didn’t know was that Reneé had come to your show that night. Just like you she was standing in the back of the room, trying to blend in with the crowd. She was there to try and win you back, to apologise and tell you it was all a big mistake on her end. But then you started singing your new song.

When the chorus hit, she knew that nothing she would have to say after the show would matter. The chorus, the part of the song you so desperately needed to scream into the crowd. 

You betrayed me

And I know that you'll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt, yeah

Your fingers fly over your guitar, each note you play intentional and filled with raw emotions. 

You'd talk to her

When we were together

Loved you at your worst

But that didn't matter

When you look into the crowd you spot her for the first time that night, because the door to the concert hall opens and lets in a streak of light. You sing the final words of the song as you walk her leave. 

It took you two weeks

To go off and date her

Guess you didn't cheat

But you're still a traitor

The crowd loved the new song, though you weren’t able to take much of it in, as your eyes were still focussed on the concert hall door that was now closed. The moment starts to sink in when you finally hear the crowd cheering, you manage a smile onto your face and thank the crowd. The door closing seemed like a metaphor for closing a chapter, and with having screamed your feelings into the crowd, you somehow felt lighter.

-----

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[dreampenned]

SOMEWHERE IN BETWEEN.

you develop a strange friendship with the pretty college girl who visits your library.

pairing. olivia hayes (jessica alexander) × female reader

length. 12.9k words

themes. smut, uni student!olivia, librarian!reader, legal age gap, praise kink, pet names (princess, ma'am), fluff, angst

warnings. homophobic and blackmailing antagonist, age gap, smoking, get even spoilers, maybe ooc olivia but NO ONE GETS HER LIKE I DO DON'T @ ME

author's note. HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!!! yall dont know how special this fic is to me. i started this in september, continued writing it in february (!!!) after being down bad for jess then, after watching get even, revised it to be for my baby olivia hayes :) also my first fic on this blog ! olivia hayes and get even in general are pretty niché in fics, but i hope you'll give this a chance </3 also, i will be writing for more female celebs so stay tuned !!

There was a library - a nice, wide place located in the smaller parts of the university. It’s where the students seldom went to study for their exams, perhaps find a little reprieve from all the youthful stress that curled around them. They’d lounge on the sofas with a textbook in their laps, or hide behind an aisle of novels to make out. That didn’t matter to you - what you cared about was that your second home was a safe space for them, just like it was to you, where nothing else was out to get them but the smell of new books.

That’s where it all started.

It was all supposed to go so normally, but then she came in. 

Suddenly you weren’t so safe anymore.

Oh, but could she do any naught? You heard and dismissed rumors, but she was just a schoolgirl - well, the better and more guiltless term was perhaps college student. Still, you're a handful of years older than her with a degree she's using the end of her teens to fight for. She was young. Innocent too, with those bright, casual eyes that passed around the library fascinatedly. But it was far from easy to remember that when those long legs strode confidently in your vicinity, underneath that short skirt which ought to get her in trouble with the dress code. But why? It was standard uniform - it wasn’t her fault she was beautiful. Ah, and one couldn’t forget the socks, simple white ones yet looked painfully beautiful on her with how they wrapped around her thighs like a present. 

When she looked at you and smiled, it was a cut straight to the bone. No remedy here. Stitches couldn’t save you.

In the second minute since she arrived here, you realized that she was familiar. That was the kind of face you never forgot - engendered into the ripples of your brain forever, a flame of memory kept alive. Because she was just a college student - many years your junior - but she was so goddamned beautiful that it ached your tongue and left it numb.

“Hi,” she said softly. From one word you could tell that curled preppy accent - something that teetered between an heiress’s and a sweet friend - was natural. From one word you were left breathless.

“Olivia Hayes.” You mentioned her name without thinking and with too much a realization, and now it sounded as if you didn’t know her, and oh, how rude that was. How dare you be rude to a girl like her, known and adored by everyone, a princess? You wanted to say you just recognized her, that you knew her already - which wasn’t false - but she’s already smiling.

Her smile, sweet with tender full lips and her eyelids reaching for their other halves, was something you could swim in forever. Oh, you’d drink from her, too - she was a saltless sea that tasted of nectar instead.

“That’s me,” said Olivia, beaming. “I’m the president of the student council. I think that’s where you remember me?”

Of course. She was the pretty face that always led a group of giggling schoolgirls to the hallway; the pretty voice that spoke at auditoriums for the school’s events; the pretty body that flexed as it twisted to send a ball that’s just as small as her head over the net. While you weren’t a professor by any means (you had tried to be, but that dream was whisked away quickly), you were a frequent presence for the student activities. The one who always, always stood out to you was her.

You suddenly found it very, very hard to gulp down another rough bout. She was beautiful in a way that was impossible to perceive without falling for her. When she had that relatively tall yet slender form all compact and tight in her uniform, with lips that became her brand - (because the other girls would always gossip and say how they wanted lips that full, and maybe you were jealous too) - and had their glossed signature, it forged a path that only led to wanting her.

“Yes, you’re right.” You collected yourself. “Anything I can help you with Ms. Hayes?”

“Do you have anything about Greek mythology?” 

That was the lilt of tone she used with her close circle of friends, fondly. Were you a friend to her now? Oh, but you had just met. Not just, perhaps, but this was the first time you actually talked to her lengthily. But she knew you - she’d said your name, and she, with the allowance of you basking in her sweet voice, considered you as someone trustworthy.

But you were far from that. A trustworthy individual did not reach desperately after a kempt schoolgirl like her, or fantasize about doing away with that skirt and scheme to watch all that royal composure dissolve from the princess that she was.

It was only now that you came to the realization that you had always, after all this time, wanted Olivia Hayes.

“Ma’am?” she asked, and all you could think was, oh, it’s the end. It was the beginning of the end the moment she was a polite girl and called you a name that was as innocent as her. It was of no ill intent when she called you that - she was merely asking for your help - but your fist curled up and your throat was tight.

“Yes. Yes, of course.” 

You had to act before you did anything stupid, like make her use those perfect lips on you, put them to good use; get your hand all up in that golden-brown hair. Instead of acting upon all those sinful fantasies, you placed a book she might like, the one you recommended for her only, and brushed the old crumbs of bookshelf dust from its cover. Because you’d hate to see those long, pretty fingers get stained. 

As you handed her the book, which she accepted with a smile, you asked, “You read a lot I presume?”

She giggled. “I try to,” she said. “Haven’t got time for it lately. But I have to.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re excellent,” you told her, not being able to help yourself. It wasn’t like it was a lie - Olivia Hayes had a lot of potential in her. A great leader, having watched her create the rules to keep the students in line; a great actress, having seen her perform at the theater with emotions that shook you to the core; a great person in general.

“Oh.” Olivia’s cheeks filled with pink. And you found out that when she got shy, her ears flushed too. You ought to smile. “You think so?”

And this was the kind of schoolgirl sweet you pictured her as. She found everywhere but your eyes to look at, and her legs began to sway to and fro, shifting her weight from here to there to stabilize herself. Olivia Hayes - president of various important clubs, prom queen and honor student - could also be . . . adorable?

The rumor mill claimed she wasn’t such a sweetheart. A real fucking snob, a boy claimed after leaving her classroom with tears on his face. Stuck-up bitch. Too arrogant for her own pretty good. 

You never believed them. You . . . .did, perhaps? But it was not a belief you held to defame her. 

You actually found the roll of her eyes, the snide of her scoffs and checking of her perfect nails a little hot. 

But the pink on her face was how you realized that she’s the type of girl who’d melt if called anything remotely complimenting. It’s what she was used to; what revolved her world. 

“I know so.”

“Ah,” she mumbled, nodding thoughtfully as she looked down at her black Mary Jane shoes. “Thank you.”

Quietness settled into your humble library. It was what you insisted upon hearing, but there was something about Olivia - how she rolled her words, giggled when she was nervous, spoke softly but easily - that made you want to break your own rules. And several others.

“You have a library card?” 

“I don’t.” You envied how she managed to recollect herself before she melted more. You could never say the same thing about yourself. Suddenly her chin was up again, and a small smile played on her lips. “Is it alright if I read here for a while Ma’am?”

What else could your answer be?

The day became night, the moon stark in the sky from behind your library windows. All the students had filed out. It was time to close.

You looked at your log book. Plenty of people came in today. You were happy about that. As a librarian (you taught too if that meant anything), you were naturally passionate about books. Having a job related to them was a dream right from the start. When you were young, you wanted to be a librarian. When you entered high school, you wanted to be a librarian. When you finished college, you became one. The pay was nothing close to meager which was enough for you. You wanted this job and not one day passed that had you upset about it.

Mostly, people came here to hang out or hide. That didn’t matter to you, but what struck you was Olivia. Ever since dismissal time, she was in that corner reading. A pile of books sat on the table with her. All of them were about mythology, whether novels or retellings or anecdotes. 

You pretended not to notice her as you rearranged books and disposed of unattended belongings. It kept you busy. Sometimes nobody cared about the system you ordered your books in, or the tidiness overall of your little place. So it took a while, one you were pleased about, until you walked over to Olivia.

She was on the four-hundredth page of the novel. Her thumb pressed above the high number on the foot of the page. Didn’t she just start that? And she was still going. 

“You’re a fast reader,” you remarked, fascinated. 

She looked up in surprise. A sense of calm passed over her features when she realized it was you. “Y-yes I am. Other days I finish books in like a year, but I guess this isn’t one of those days.”

“Same here.” You liked how you had that in common with her. She was pretty already, but a voracious reader? That was the key to your heart. 

You picked up her bag beside her chair and placed it on the table. She returned to scanning the book, the pages crisp between her manicured nails and eyes bright and thoughtful. In her lap was a notepad. Her writing was tidy and smooth. Small letters spelled details about Odysseus, gods, and fables.

“You have a quiz about Greek mythology?” 

“Oh no.” She shook her head. “I’m doing research since I got the part in a play about this stuff.”

“Let me guess: Aphrodite?”

It was a basic line - so easy, actually, so obvious. But it fit so well and her ears started to color again. She covered her mouth to giggle, then sat up straighter. The form of her back was like a duchess's: composed, slant, smooth. But she wasn’t a duchess. No - perfect lips, eyes shimmering; she was something more. Something else.

Olivia pursed her lips before smiling softly. “If I were naïve Ma’am” - there was that word again, sweet and faultless but making you pent up, as she considered you with a serious gaze - “I’d think you’re trying to flirt with me.”

“Too quick for that, don’t you think?” you backtracked. You had to be appropriate. Yet you reeled forward again: “But you’re a beautiful girl, fitting for the part.”

You normally didn’t go for the model-in-the-making girls, much less ones who were younger than you. But she had this different aura about her. She was quiet, sweet, and incredibly polite while maintaining her popularity and schoolwork. She was each one of those but people still chose to put her down. You wondered how she dealt with everything. What was behind that pretty, pretty face?

“Unfortunately, being pretty doesn’t free you from my rules.” You pointed at the clock. Regret filled your heart as you informed her. “It’s 7 PM. According to school regulations, I was supposed to close twenty minutes ago.”

“Why didn’t you close then?” A smile creased the corners of her eyes and emphasized her lips. “I thought being beautiful didn’t exempt me?”

There it was. She knew how to reply, how to send back a maimed question with a bigger bullet. This was why people liked to deem her an intimidation.

She was smart, cunningly sweet. You never doubted Olivia’s intelligence but it still surprised you. She looked at you knowingly while you flustered. You searched for an answer when all you searched for was the hike of her skirt up her thighs. She knew your game, and she was not afraid to play it.

Olivia was a tactful, patient pupil. She sat with her hands folded in her lap - like a good fucking girl - and waited for your response. You mustered nothing. It felt stupid to stand there and wordlessly admit you got cornered by a nineteen-year-old.

“It . . . does now.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Fuck.

“You know you can take these books back to your dorm? All you need is a library card.”

“Oh!” Delighted, she stood up and beamed with a light that always was with her, even in the night. “When can I get one?”

“Here tomorrow. Like I said, library hours are done.” 

Olivia didn’t take your sternness to heart. She picked up her bag and slung it on her shoulders. She began to leave. 

She was simply following orders but you hated to see her go. You were already yearning for her. You would have wanted to like her in a purely pure way, but you weren’t a good woman. You yearned for the slip of her stockings down her knees, the prop of her neck, the flight of her hair as the wind pushed past her.

She turned to you at the doorway. Did she read your thoughts? Did she forget something?

“Well,” she said, “if here’s where you want me to be.” 

Then, in a low voice and the final smile of the day, “Ma’am.”

Plenty of students came in after her. They were either the ones who didn’t have friends to eat lunch with (you didn’t enforce the no food rule for them) and the ones who were rowdy, using your sanctuary as a place to yell and make jokes (you tapped the silence rule taped to your desk.) Everyone signed their names in your log book, but the words flew past your notice. All those days gone and your eyes still remained on Olivia.

Everyday she sat on the loveseat with her legs crossed. She didn’t speak one word. Olivia simply read and read and read, occasionally pausing to rest and take notes. Her nose was buried in the book, but you could see her brilliant eyes above its edges. They disseminated, observed, analyzed. The rest of her face was covered and you still found her beautiful. 

“Ma’am,” spoke a student nearing your desk, “can I get a library card?”

The background blurred. You looked at the student and realized you were staring at Olivia for too many an hour. You had to focus. Ogling at a student was inappropriate, and not what the private university paid you for.

Also, the title didn’t sound as nice as it did if it came from someone who wasn’t Olivia Hayes.

“Of course.” You rose from your chair as you took his ID. 

“It’s free, right?”

“Yes, no charge.”

You typed in his name. It wasn’t long or a unique one but you had to read it several times over to ensure its correctness. Typical procedure. Ronny. Soon, his library card was laminated and printed. You placed it on your desk for him to take.

Thanking you, Ronny picked behind his ear. “I couldn’t help but notice,” he began, “you were looking at Olivia for a bit there.” 

You swallowed. Were you that obvious? You hated to think so. The last thing you wanted was your ogling at the girl to be something controversial. (It was.) You were doing it for days, ever since her initial visit. 

What did you say to him? What did you do?

“Oh, uh. No. I just space out a lot.”

He saw through your lie. His easy grin made you uncomfortable. Why? He was just making conversation. “I mean, I understand. She’s really pretty and popular, but she doesn’t have many friends.” 

You turned to look at Olivia. She was still reading. The whole time she was quiet and preserved, not taking time to speak to others. She liked to keep to herself for a girl who was the talk of the campus.

“Doesn’t she?”

“She needs someone to talk to,” he told you. His words were overly friendly, like he was lulling you into a drunken false sense of security. “I think you’d be perfect. She’s just getting into reading.”

“I-I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He gave you a smirk of knowledge and left. Shit. Why did you have to be so indiscreet? You quickly collected yourself and returned to your book. You had to forget about it.

The characters in your book fought against dragons and fell in love and fell apart and passed on. Chapters became nothing like the minutes. There were rare moments when you had to look up and assist someone, but aside from that, the day was relatively uneventful. 

Night arrived, slowly like it always did. You were a dedicated reader, but the story was uninteresting compared to the pretty girl lounging across you. She was the only one there now. 

Before you could return your eyes to the book and stop watching at how she flicked her hair back and checked her phone, she caught you. Her attractive smile was full of awareness of your plight. You quickly looked down at the pages. It was too late.

School shoes tapped a rhythm on the floor as she approached you. She leaned down on your desk. You tried to ignore her and pretend she wasn’t there. But Olivia had a face people would never forget. She was most likely someone’s first love, who, even when along came a girl who filled their life, was not erased from memory. No, she was too precious to let go.

“You know,” stated Olivia, her tongue curved upwards at the side of her lips, “you could just talk to me. I’m not scary, am I?”

You lowered the story. She was so good to look at. Her hair was tossed over the side and she wore a carefree smile that invited you to close the book.

Was she scary? Yeah - her exclusiveness, tight-knit friendships and beautiful wit - you’d call that scary. 

But the fear always turned into a yearning - please notice me when I walk past; please say my name again; please ruin me- let me ruin you-

“Sure.” You gave in. “What do you wanna talk about?”

She thought for a while. “Anything that’ll make us friends. I like you. It’s gonna be easy.”

Being friends didn’t sound dangerous. What could happen? It’s not as if the moment you bonded you would suddenly grab the small of her back and let your lips meet.

“Wanna get out of here?’’ She framed her cheek with her fingers. “I’ll put on a jacket. Nobody will know.”

You’d love nothing more. But was it alright? There were lines being crossed here: the relationship between a student and a mentor; the rules; the propriety.

She looked you up and down, taking note of everything, then cocked an eyebrow. Oh, it was a challenge. Would you give in?

You found yourself buttoning your coat and walking out with her. The library had to close early. She grinned and looped an arm through yours. You made an excuse that your sudden freezing up was due to the night air.

Well, it was chilly. The breeze puffed Olivia’s hair into the night. She always made herself look like a femme fatale from a fan favorite watch - red lips; smoky eyes; and a tendency to make anyone want her. Ah, not a tendency - she was a natural heartstealer. She broke it even if you weren’t a thing when you saw her with boys, with girls, with anyone looking to tear her uniform down in pieces when you felt the exact same thing.

The school looked more serene in the darkness. It was so grand but looked just like home. Old bricks built themselves up into pillars that resembled castles. Dim light illuminated from dorm windows. 

“It’s nice to get out of that place for once,” Olivia said. She tilted her head to the school and sighed humorously. But the smoke of air that left her mouth shook a little too. “It’s kind of suffocating in there, honestly.”

The branches reached for her hair. Your shoes were torn by growing roots. But through everything, you kept walking. You wanted to know: what was more to this forest? What was more to her?

“Let me guess,” you said. “It’s the popularity contests? Friends? Math?”

She rolled her eyes, a confirmation. “Ugh, math.” 

“You’ll get through it,” you assured her. It was cliché to say, but everything would eventually come to pass. You were on a planet in a galaxy in a galaxy in a galaxy, or whatever. It didn’t matter. “I mean, I did. If anyone could do it, it’s you.”

“I was gonna say you did excellent getting through it, but I don’t know you that well.”

“So get to know me.”

You talked, and Olivia was surprisingly easy to connect with. She listened with attentively creased brows and an occasional laugh. You narrated the basics: “read” was your first word. You did your classmates’ homework in exchange for candies. Reading was your foundation. If you had to go without it, you died.  

You thought that she would make a joke about the cheesiness, or worse, laugh at you. But she didn’t. She kept listening. She sometimes threw you a few interesting questions that kept the drain of conversation going. The thoughtful, caring energy in her face was solid and you felt undeserving to bask in it.

“What I like to say is I’m a reader before a woman,” you told her anyway. The depths of the forest came up and for some reason you weren’t scared. It was the rumor mill for ghosts and hookups, but you were with Olivia. Why would you be scared? “That’s how I wound up here in a uni, letting them read what I have.”

Olivia nodded, hands on opposite elbows. The trees towered over you and made horrific shadows on the dust. Fear didn’t get to you. “Do they pay you well?”

“They do.”

“Must be fun.” She bit on the inside of her cheek, making the soft skin hollow. “Doing something you love.”

There was a wistfulness in her voice. Her expression was dreamy as she thoughtfully stepped over the roots and twigs. 

“Well,” you began, carefully, “what do you love?”

Olivia smiled self-assuredly. “Me.”

She told her story. She was born rich, lived rich, and would die rich. Her mother was an heiress whose love was a businessman, and the wealth would go on for the next ten or more generations. She wanted to be an active and proper student, behaving well enough so as not to take advantage of her father buying her out of any situation. She participated in many clubs and, according to this year’s paper, was the school’s Actress of The Year.

You didn’t think you had too much coffee today but you thought that it wasn’t illusion she had inched closer. Olivia’s knee was beside yours, and she was speaking and chuckling like you weren’t close to being insane about how smooth her skin felt. 

Was this the “bitch” who supposedly broke hearts and ruined lives? She flipped her hair and giggled like she had all the time in the world. She didn’t seem so terrifying.

“I try not to be so stuck up. I want people to leave me alone, but only when I need them to.”

You shrugged. “That explains why . . . ”

“Yeah?” She was not going to let that obvious halt pass.

You blinked. “Oh, I didn’t mean-” 

“It’s fine,” she dismissed, continuing the path down the forest. Olivia studied her fingernails. “It’s not like I don’t know people think I’m a bitch.”

So she knew. She had that admirable composure steadying her, but how did she deal with the falsehood? There was everything to cope with - the pressure of her parents; school; and friends who expected a lot from her. What was her method?

“For the record, I don’t think you’re a . . . ”

“Say it.” Olivia’s eyes flicked up from her nails and shot you with a cheekiness that made you feel lightheaded. “Call me a bitch.”

She slipped her hand in yours. The textures of your skin were vastly different. Hers was as soft as a baby’s cheek. Smooth and blemishless too. 

“Actually,” she added coyly, “call me whatever you want . . . Ma’am.”

You stared back at her. What did you just start? She winked at you then continued talking like she didn’t almost cause a heart attack.

The moon was stark and sent bursts of wind whipping you around. Sometimes you felt her grip tighten around the slots of your fingers to keep her balance. You hoped your palm wasn’t sweaty.

“They’re right though.” She giggled, fixing the blazer of her uniform. “I need a little redefining. So I’m doing some self-improvement, working on my habit of rolling my eyes.” 

“You’re a perfect student,” you joked, but you meant it. Every word was genuine. “You’re intelligent, pretty, studious, and committed. Who do I have to fight to be you?”

As expected, she rolled her eyes with a stifled simper. You both burst out laughing and for a few seconds it was all you knew. The lines of her smile, the shrink of her eyes as she chuckled - it was all so beautiful. 

“Seriously! You’re a beautiful girl. And that hair is lethally gorgeous.”

“Thank you. It’s smooth too. I guess combing like ninety times a day helps.” She scooted closer, as if close weren’t close enough, and turned her head. Golden-brown locks showed themselves to you. “See for yourself.”

Was she bold or just friendly? You gingerly ran your fingers through them. No knots blocked your way. Each thread was silky and clean. This was the kind of soft you’d feel on pillows in hotels you couldn’t afford. You were pretty sure she had well-paid, adoring women who attended to her for this.

It felt intimate. Too intimate. There was hesitance as she observed you, like she wanted to do something but had to think twice. You were getting so comfortable in the familiarity of her features that you had to remember she was a student and you were . . . you. This was like busting yourself out of the closet and getting yourself a case of being improper with a student, although she wasn’t a child by any means.

You put your hand back down. “What color is it?” you asked.

“I dunno.” She shrugged. “Brown? Blonde? Somewhere in between?”

Whatever it was, it looked good on her. Everything looked good on her. She was the only student you saw who never looked stuffy in the hot uniform. The British air was hot in the morning but not one drop of sweat stuck to her skin. Her mane of somewhere-in-between was articulately brushed and straightened.

Footprints of athletes still were visible on the ground. You stamped your foot over a mark of a rubber one. She followed suit. With that, you left a sign you were here. It might be the only sign that you ever lived. 

Books and shelves faded over time, but the earth would always remember your mark. It was sort of sentimental. This would be the first and only time you live, and you were glad to spend it enjoying a night with a girl you liked and getting to know quickly. Maybe you knew her all along. 

“If you really think I’m all that,” Olivia said, toying with the zipper of her jacket, “you should come to the play. I’ll prove my worth. It’s next week.” 

“I’ll be there,” you instantly replied.

You’d love to see her act again. Plays weren’t your thing but it would be good to see Olivia onstage, reciting her lines with deep emotion and twirling from prop to prop. You knew she wouldn’t disappoint. 

Her eyes lit up, and that response told you, without overassumption, of a mother who was too busy to come to her activities, of a father who wasn’t there. Never was. “You promise?” 

She was holding you to it, you could tell. It was a promise you were willing to keep. You’d never break it if the circumstances tested you.

“If that’s where you want me to be.”

“That’s my line,” she objected. She pulled the end of her skirt down to her knees. The waistband sank and unveiled modest skin. It was so devoid of ill intention that it was just right to make you feel guilty for looking. “If you use it, you need to have a nickname for me too.”

She turned to you. The crescent moon refracted in her pupils. Olivia was dead serious. You stopped in your tracks and tried to think. But she was there - so gorgeous, so put together and so lovely - that it made your thoughts go static.

Right from the start, you yearned. You thought it began when she visited your library for the first time. But now you thought that it dated back to watching her act, watching her and her group of friends, watching her be herself in a midst of elites. You wanted her since the moment she stepped in the university and it was difficult to deal with.

Why? Because you wanted to call her a lot of things. Each would be sweet or sour, whichever she chose, as she sank between your legs and/or sat in your lap and/or just kept being the tantalizingly beautiful thing she was.

“What’s something people call you?” you offered weakly. 

“Uh. Ollie and um, Hayes-Are-For-Horses” - you laughed and she had to explain it was back in primary, when she used to be bullied by the people who desired her now - “Liv, Livvie, Livia, Princess-”

“Princess?”

She looked down, a little embarrassed. “My friends call me that. It’s my code name.”

She was a princess, truly. Olivia was everything a princess should be. That’s why her peers loved her. That’s why her peers hated her. She was royalty, and people didn’t know if they wanted to lust for her or reject her just to say they had the opportunity to.

You nodded approvingly. “Very fitting.”

“That’s it then,” she said, satisfied. “You’re Ma’am, and I’m Princess.”

Saying the name felt like sinning - you realized this when you thought it over. But she was smiling again, so of course you’d do it without penance.

The play was beautiful. The props were crafted diligently and all actors quoted with diction and importance. You sat at the front as staff should and kept searching for your favorite student. She came in a white dress and hair styled in endless curls, and delivered a performance deserving of whatever Oscar there was for college plays. She was an excellent actress. All bias melted when you believed she was the best out of the whole drama club. Even her fellow actors said so.

While Olivia performed her nuances, she looked at the crowd, as if willing them to come onstage and save her. The fourth wall was broken through. You were too. She saw you at the front, went out of character with a smile, and got away with it. Her slip-up was so unnoticeable that at the end of the play, you thought you would have signed up for drama club if you were a student. She made it all look so easy. 

“You came!” she said, bouncing off the stage stairs and wrapping you in an unexpected hug. 

You fought back your giddiness. She was just being friendly. You returned the embrace like a good friend should. “Of course.”

The purple dress swayed around her like water, the little details and seams the seashells that fit the siren that she was, born from foam. You saw it hug her waist and flow around her legs and - despite everything: your promises to remain professional, a good senior, a good friend - you couldn’t deny she looked insanely good.

She ushered you backstage as the curtains closed. The cheers erupted for her, and you could picture her making it really big out there. She was gorgeous, talented, and excessively charming - a director would ditch screenplays to cast her. The coach was sure to die if they watched her rehearse. And anyone’s going to fall in love with her, really.

“Beautiful,” you remarked, and it could mean either way: the performance or the pretty little thing in front of you.

“You liked the yelp I did when Paris dragged me?” asked Olivia. Her eyes contained all the stars in the galaxy. She made a wish to each of them, asking for an eager attendee to her play. “I strained my voice, but I did good, right?”

Never did you ask about the black wig, or the smoky makeup, or the way she was almost in tears - almost like she never expected you to come. Or anyone for that matter. 

All you said, squeezing her forearm where you could feel the beat of her excitement, was: “The Princess was more than great.”

She never got that library card. Olivia chose to stay in your library for hours at a time rather than take them back to her dorm. The play was done but she began reading for fun instead of necessity. You recommended her thrillers and romance. Your heart grew bigger. She was actually very easy to be fond of. 

Now she took a seat near your desk where she occasionally asked questions - what does this word mean? what language is this? have you read this? - and left you biscuits in your lunch break. You enjoyed her company. You were insecure about a lot of things but one: she did back.

“Coffee.” Olivia brought a cup of steam to your desk. She pulled a chair to your desk and sat on it, crossing her legs. “Nobody’s here. The rules don’t exist.”

Your heart did a little offbeat thump. She was a generous girl. You forgot to thank her upon seeing that her strawberry blonde hair was tucked into a bun on her head. The strong curve of her jaw and her swan’s neck were just out there.

Olivia’s full lips closed on the straw of her iced coffee. You couldn’t stop watching her. You could help her out with her lessons - there’s her opened textbook, her reviewers - but you had eyes only for her. What a cliché. But you’re a reader. You liked your fair share of clichés. You could give this one a pass.

“Thanks Princess,” you said. You took the coffee and blew its smoke out. “You’re really kind.”

She was the kindest girl you ever met. These past few months, she did nothing but keep you company and spoil you. Olivia was a generous princess - she stepped out to meet the populace, give them food worthy of a royal, and kept them company. That was why you liked her. 

You stopped there. You didn’t want things to go too far. Not yet. These feelings you had for Olivia were inappropriate and deserved hindering. But she was just so beautiful and lovable that blocking the thoughts from your head felt like torture.

“It’s no problem.” 

She was smiling again. You really wondered how her peers carved her out to be an alleged pain. She was so thoughtful that you were beginning to think if anyone had chosen to befriend you this way. Were you even deserving?

“What are you studying?” you asked her. You had to make conversation before you slipped up again.

Olivia’s simper melted. “Math.”

You looked over at the formulas, fractions and calculations. It already made your head hurt. “Can’t help you with that,” you said regretfully. “It’s either I don’t know it or I forgot that thing a long time ago.”

“Can you help me with something else?”

After you nodded, she began to speak. Well, tried to. She trailed off, looking blankly at her textbook. Her face wore a blue little look that was a break of character from the serious one she always had. Olivia Hayes, as far as you knew, was not once lonesome.

“It’s been . . . really hard these days. I’m sorry, I know it’s completely out of topic but-”

“You can tell me anything.”

Hope crossed her features. She didn’t really have anyone to trust with her feelings. Her mother was too busy. Her friends would use them against her. The guidance counselor would just tell her to pray. Would you listen to her without bias?

“I don’t know if I’m hanging with the right people. I don’t know if I’m even that good. I don’t know if I-” Olivia stopped and made complicated gestures with her hands. A defeated sigh sounded from her slim throat. “-am.”

Self-doubt. It was your accurate diagnosis. You were surprised that a girl like her would experience it, but even the most confident people went through that. It would be easy to assume from the way she walked, talked, and acted that she had all the assurance for herself.

Olivia sighed at her textbook and shut it. Her shoulders were trembling. Was she sulking? Nearly crying? You couldn’t bear to see it. 

“I don’t think I know myself at all.” She swallowed, then without looking at you, asked, “Do you ever feel that way Ma’am?”

She was too young and too pretty to be going through this dilemma. You couldn’t say you didn’t go through the exact same thing yourself in the younger years of your life. But seeing the look of pride and strength disappear from her face was a death to your own self-pity. 

You looked at your hand close to her. The pins you gifted for her bag. The jacket you let her borrow after she lost it. Foolish to think, but maybe you finally found someone you could care about more than you did yourself.

“Every day of my life,” you said quietly.

“Oh,” she whispered, nodding. She said nothing more. Olivia’s view was focused on the cover of her textbook, which boasted happy students reading from it. It wasn’t the case for her. Revising this subject, being in this school? It didn’t make her happy.

Well, one thing did.

It hurt to see her like this. Had anyone ever considered what she felt? Or did she put up a front, being pretty and kind? 

“I just feel like I’m wasting borrowed time,” Olivia muttered. Each fragment of her broken sentences grew heavier.  “I want- I need-”

Before she could burst into tears, you tilted her face up. The water in her eyes remained there. What held them back besides your gentle hand was the tight frown of her lips. She was trying very, very hard not to break down.

“Hey. Chin up Princess,” you told her. You offered her an encouraging smile. “I know you. You’re a strong girl, aren’t you?”

Her eyelids were still puffy in their fight to keep her tears back. She didn’t quite believe that. But you would make her.

“Look at you. You’re smart, studious and sensitive. Nothing would make me think otherwise.”

Her gaze lingered on you, thoughtful. Did you really think that? Were you this sweet to anyone else? She chuckled and looked down shyly. “Alliteration.”

Smart girl. “That’s right,” you said. “I’m rubbing off on you.” 

“I guess that makes me okay.”

“You’re doing great. I promise.”

Light coffee stained the end of her mouth. You wiped it away with your thumb. A bit of her lipstick smudged your skin. An indirect kiss? 

When you retracted your touch, you thought the coffee was doing something to your head again. You could have sworn that Olivia leaned in.

And just when you thought lines couldn’t be crossed further:

People like to believe in things that they can see. Why trust in ideas that aren’t visible to the naked eye - it’s a lie for sure, right? Thus, the concept of atheism. Thus, the need for eye witnesses in court, primary sources, the like. Thus, the school not believing that the odor of cigarettes from behind the library could possibly be from you.

Well, they’d be damned.

Gray floated from your mouth like a lost dream. Vices aged along with your soul. See, you weren’t a bad kid. You stayed in school, did your homework, only tried a few prohibitions. But the smoking stuck to you - it reminded you of a more youthful time. It also made you feel a little light on your feet.

The thing was: the school couldn’t know. So you sank into the wall of the back of your library, fingers twined between a cigarette. You may not know yourself but you weren’t depressed or anything - it’s just a thing you do, like drinking coffee in the morning and writing. People often got that wrong.

The forest was just close by. Naturally you mistook the crunches of leaves for the usual PE class. Then they grew louder, and when you turned your head, there was-

“Ma’am? Oh!” Olivia stopped in her tracks and gasped sharply. It was a sound only an actress could make - sweet, tiny. “I’m sorry, am I-”

You waved your wrist. “Not at all,” you said. If there was anyone in the school you trusted with this secret, it was her. “It’s just smoking. I’m not committing a felony.”

She nodded. Her eyes remained doe-wide. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it time for your classes?” you asked.

It was the middle of the afternoon. She should be having English at this hour. Would they be surprised to find out that the top student was absent? The reason being . . . you?

Olivia swept her hair back. Time slowed down and made permanent the flight of her mane and the pride that stayed. “I’m cutting. I know, I’m a very bad girl.”

She was skipping classes for you. You didn’t want to assume, but was your friendship really that strong? It felt like you knew everything about her. She knew you too, like a book. She read you from cover to cover and annotated your pages. Olivia was a significant part of your life now.

“Oh, what have I done to you.” You played into it as if you were an actress as good as her. What she didn’t know was that you were enjoying it. 

Her nose wrinkled at the smell of your cigar. Still, she stepped closer, albeit cautiously. “Can I-”

“Leave?” You nodded. “Sure. Secondhand smoke’s cancerous.”

Yet if there’s anything you would hate, it would be for her to go.

Olivia shook her head. “I-I’d like to try, Ma’am.”

Your brows were furrowed. You took one look at your cigar then at the student. She was looking down shyly, her side fringes hanging from her face. It was obvious she was trying to prove something. But what else did she have to make worthy to you?

“I don’t think that would be appropriate.” 

“Please?” she said, a pout stretching on her pretty mouth.

“Princess.”

Your sharp tone didn’t hold her back. It seemed to drill her on. Olivia slipped beside you with a look in her eyes that you didn’t know if you liked. Her lashes sat low and her smile - god help me. Like that wasn’t enough, she wore a low ponytail with a few specks of hair left untied. She was too beautiful, and you weren’t strong enough to handle it.

She let a finger twist through the smoke. “It’s just smoking,” Olivia echoed. “I’m not committing a felony.”

Her character was hard to read sometimes. She could be sweet and innocent to you then switch to being a coy serpent that told you to do all the wrong things. Her breath next to your ear didn’t help your hypocritical case. The fight in you yelled to be the bigger person, to tell her it wasn’t right. It was anything but easy when she had a face that you’d die to hold.

“I don’t have more on me,” you excused. It was the truth - your pockets were empty, this was the only one you got.

“Wouldn’t mind using yours.” Olivia was almost whining at this point. The desperate look on her face was one you chased after, and you wanted to make her beg more. She sounded pretty that way. “I’m not a child, am I?”

She had a point. It wasn’t like you were giving away and teaching vices to an impressionable little girl. It didn’t feel right.

“Please, Ma’am?” 

You found yourself giving it to her - not only this, but your everything. Your future, your job, your morals.

Your main takeaway from that moment wasn’t to never do that again, or remind yourself that you could easily say no to a pretty girl (you couldn’t.) It was this: 

Olivia Hayes’s lips looked gorgeous wrapped around a cigarette.

She was made for the part. Her mouth fluttered around it while her stare was distant, piecing something together. She lowered it down and blew a ring of smoke in the air, just like in the movies. Olivia was an old Hollywood actress - a blonde bombshell; the main lead.

“It feels . . . ” She struggled for a word. “Good.”

You took the cigar away from her. “Don’t get attached,” you said. It was genuine advice. “We all know how that ends.”

She was smiling. You were too. 

She rested her head on the brick wall, facing you. Not quite - her gaze was fixated on your lips. “You look beautiful today Ma’am.”

You leaned forward. It was a dare for her to be audacious enough to prove it right. “Really now?”

The bump of her neck bobbed. You realized that your faces were too close to each other. Her lips were so full that it would take a small stumble to accidentally kiss her, to accidentally pin her to the rusty wall of this building. Those wide, princess eyes stared back at you in fear.

It was your signal to back up. This wasn’t right. No matter how beautiful she was or how close you were, flirting with a girl years younger than you wasn’t right.

Even in the silence that carried guilt, the universe didn’t take kindly to your offense. It brought about a punishment you would remember: the snap of a camera flash. 

You jolted. Who was that? 

Privy to your conversation, there was the man who asked for a library card. He was smirking. You knew and tried to avoid him because it was an open secret: he was bad news. He blackmailed, lied, used-

Ronny Kent was his name, and he was not a good person. 

There was Mika, whose reputation was solidly ruined after he leaked a picture of her. The rumors were too loud to keep secret. Then the janitor who only wanted a private moment with his partner. Ronny turned everyone inside out and it wasn’t pretty.

“Chainsmoker and a slut,” he said to Olivia, lowering the camera. “You play every game, even your friends. Gotta respect you for it.”

“Shut up,” said Olivia. Her jaw was tight. She spoke very softly that the insult bore no real bullet. “Please.”

But she meant this one. You hadn’t seen her this uncomfortable. There was real fire in her eyes but a downness in them too. This was not the first time Ronny had seized her dignity and smashed it beneath his feet. You could tell from the sudden rigidness of her body, the loss of her stability.

You couldn’t speak. He was so close to her, and you were afraid you would shove him if he came closer. Maybe you should.

“I don’t think so.” Ronny’s mouth sat next to Olivia’s ear. She cringed in spite of trying to remain nonchalant. Hot odored breath huffed on her face. “Get out of my way.” 

Olivia stared down at her socks. Nothing else existed to her. She felt cornered, afraid and humiliated. 

“Mr. Kent.” Your authoritative voice was no match to a teenage rebel. You glared at him and crossed your arms, but he took none of the signs. “It’s not your place. I’ll kindly ask-”

“When I told you to be her friend,” he said, completely ignoring you as he stroked the camera lens, “I didn’t mean to try hooking up with her. What would her boyfriend think?”

Boyfriend?

Olivia lifted her head with a short-lived defiance. “He broke up with me, Ronny.”

“Of course, because he found out she kissed me.” He was proud of it too. “She took me on a date. Ice cream and coffee.”

Olivia had just cut things loose with Donté. She never told you why. But this couldn’t be true. That wasn’t the girl you held close to your heart. Anger was clear in her face but she didn’t move. She took each word to heart as tears welled up. 

You had never seen Olivia Hayes cry before. This might be the first time.

“Everyone knows what you did to Mika,” she said, slowly and sourly. The end of her sleeve brushed at her eyelid. “You can’t hurt people anymore.”

“Oh, you don’t know that, Princess.” Ronny squeezed her shoulder. Each move he made stenched of bad luck. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

Olivia was trembling so bad you had to step forward to hold her. You had to defend her and set a boundary with Ronny, who had crossed anything you could have made. To your shock, she left before you could speak up. Her shoes clicked angrily to her exit. 

And there was Ronny’s cruel smile that told you nothing good was going to come out of this.

And there was her somewhere-in-between hair: soaring in the wind, like a closing curtain.

You finished several good reads and Olivia was still not visiting you. She hadn’t been for the past three days. It was beginning to concern you. 

You watched the campus from outside of your library. It was full of rushing, bustling students, but you couldn’t spot Olivia. Your heart ached. She was a face you could spot in a crowd miles away but she wasn’t showing up in one or alone.

Was that her friend? A pretty girl with hooded eyes and an atmosphere around her that reminded you of Olivia. “Excuse me?” you asked. “Amber, right?”

She looked almost irritated to entertain you. She always wore that bored expression anyway. “Yes?”

“Have you seen Olivia? Olivia Hayes?”

“She’s probably here. Or there.” Amber lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know.”

“Well, if you see her, please tell-”

“I don’t want you looking for her,” interrupted Amber seriously. The little once-over she did told you that she knew something, and everyone did too. She wasn’t afraid to be upfront about it. “If what they say about you is true, you shouldn’t be allowed near her.”

She left without another word. That was the end of it. 

Now you knew why less and less pupils logged in. Ronny had done the job: spread the rumor, took the reins, rendered you completely of your power. 

It was your fault. If he had crossed a line, you crossed thousands with Olivia. From your thoughts to your gestures to the bond you had - none of it was supposed to happen. None of it.

You brought this upon yourself.

You didn’t want to seem suspicious by asking around. Anyone who visited your library knew you and Olivia were close. You didn’t want to ruin the girl’s reputation.

Maybe someone already did.

The days felt empty without her. No biscuits, no fun conversations, no Olivia. You missed her coquettish laugh and lean posture and thoughtful little gestures. The desk across yours was devoid of a girl who became important to you. Everytime someone entered, you hoped it was her tall and pretty self coming to check in on you. Much to your dismay, faceless pupils were the only people logging in. 

It hurt. You didn’t want to make this about you. But it hurt. 

You had to quit being selfish. She probably needed space. Space? She wasn’t your girlfriend. She couldn’t be. 

You were finishing up for the night. The screen of your computer was bright. It reflected in your tired eyes an Excel sheet. It was a record of late fees and damage compensation. Someone had missed their return date and as much as you didn’t want to charge anything, you had to. Generosity wasn’t a skill they hired you for.

Calculus. It was exam season; you expected that.

What you didn't expect was the loud banging on your door. 

“Jesus-” You flung out of your seat, clutching your chest. The clock said it was past 7 PM. Didn’t they have a watch? Elite heirs usually had watches whose prices skyrocketed past your salary. So who was it?

You ignored it, sitting back down. It wasn’t your fault they couldn’t read the rules.

The rummage of the knocks grew louder than the typing sounds. Along with the darkness and otherwise complete silence, it was beginning to terrify you. Words didn’t make sense for the first time ever. You had to tell them to cut it out.

You stood, paced to the entrance and opened the door. 

“Ma’am?”

It was Olivia. 

She was crying.

Tears streaked her face. Sniffling, she threw her arms around you. Her back rose and rested to the tempo of her sobs, an unwelcome rhythm. The redness in her eyes and the desperation in them - full of need to be comforted, to be held - you ached seeing it.

Something was wrong. You closed the door and hugged her. She was shaking like she had escaped a rainstorm. The only rainstorm here was the flood of sobs that stained her cheeks. Now they spotted your collar.

“Ma’am,” she murmured. Her lips were on your neck, vibrating her cries into your skin. Oh, if you could, you’d take that with her pain. “I thought I lost you. Ma’am-”

Olivia’s voice was broken. She said your nickname not only to call you, but almost like a reminder that you were here. She had nobody else. 

You held her tight and let her cry it out. It was alright, you told her. You were here. Your hours were done but you had and would add more if it was for her.

“I’m here. Hi Princess.”

Your Princess.

Olivia didn’t let go. She was suffocating you with her arms knotted behind you, and a mouth that muffled her pain into your shirt. The pain that bubbled in her chest killed you. but you’d die a thousand times if it were for her. 

Olivia shivered when you let go. You led her behind your desk, her safe place. She leaned against it and tried to control the tears dropping from her red eyes. But the rainstorm was inevitable. The whole day poured down on her ruthlessly.

The familiarity of everything seemed to calm her down a bit. Hands on her hips, you gently pushed her down her usual box. She didn’t sit alone. You were there for her this time.

“Hey,” you repeated. 

You wanted to call her your girl, your baby, your Princess - anything that would comfort her. You wanted to take care of her. You’d wrap a blanket around her and take her out to eat. You’d kiss her and tell her you were here. You’d say: hey little dove, you don’t have to soar all the time. You could just sit here with me.

All you could do was hold her waist and try to control the shudders. “What’s wrong?”

She whined and placed her face into her hands. “I’m sorry.”

What was she apologizing for? She did nothing wrong. She couldn’t do anything wrong. She was so frail and weak as she supported herself at the end of your table that you wrapped her in an embrace again. You knew she needed it.

“Sorry for what?” 

Her words trembled, regretful too. “He . . . he leaked the photos . . . ” Olivia stammered.

Your heart dropped. You didn’t need to ask to know what photos or who did it. Ronny’s visit was a revelation of the end. “Oh baby-”

It was one of a girl’s worst nightmares. There came a deceptive boy whose threats held bite to them, who deceived and lied and manipulated. Nothing could ever be given to them without the fear of the tables turning. 

That was why you couldn’t find her like you always did. That was why she didn’t visit. The world was against her, and she couldn’t keep her resilience anymore.

Her breaths kept tying around her neck and choking her. You kept a hand on her back so she could at least catch them. Her shaking was knives to your chest.

“I was looking for you. I thought they . . . they took you away.” The thought got to her and she looked at you with begging written all over her face. Her frowned lips uttered the words you didn’t think would hurt you this way: “Ma’am, please don’t go away, please don’t go away-”

You pulled her close. Her hair stuck to her cheek, glued with teardrops. 

“I’m not going anywhere Princess,” you told her. 

She didn’t quite believe that. Sniffling, she pushed you off.

“I lied to you Ma’am,” she laughed sourly. Her thumb soothed a teardrop at the end of her mouth as she stood up. “All this time. Did you know that?”

What was she talking about? Was Ronny right? You denied it with all your heart.

Olivia looked villainous. The rage was new. She’d contained it all these years, keeping it together, keeping pretty. But this was the end of it. 

“He’s spreading it around too so I think you know already. I’m not an heiress. Fuck, I’m not even rich. My dad’s been gone for years. My mom would rather die than go to my shit. But I thought that everyone would love me if I was just like them.”

“Olivia-”

“I’m sorry for lying to you!” She broke down again. She was the victim and the villain - crying, laughing; hurting, hitting. She was hysterical, hands together as she pleaded for your forgiveness. “You like me so much and I like you so much but you won’t trust me ever again. So I’m sorry-”

“Olivia.”

She beat her wrist on the counter in frustration. “What?” 

Her scream deafened you. The feedback ringing was so high yet it didn’t cut out her frantic crying. It couldn’t save you from the pain of hearing her tear herself down.

You took the red trunk of her wrist and held it close. She wasn’t going to hurt herself. Not when you were around. “Olivia,” you repeated, “I don’t care if you’re rich or not. I want you anyway.”

She tossed her head back, trying to keep the water in her eyes. It pooled and overflowed. Olivia couldn’t hide anything anymore.

You squeezed her forearm. “I still wait for your gifts.”

She glanced down at your touch enveloping her. Slowly, there was a realization that sank into her. 

She swallowed. “I still look if they have your favorite on the menu,” Olivia said softly.

“I still read the notes you leave.”

“I still want you to call me Princess to get through the day.”

You pulled her in. It was an unconscious decision but you didn’t regret it. Her skirt swished against your legs. You were chest to chest and stomach to stomach. No boundaries. Just her skin against your skin. Her eyes connecting with yours. 

“I still pray you never get a library card,” you confessed softly, “so you can read with me everyday.”

Olivia was silent. Her glimmering eyes pierced through your soul and saw what you didn’t need to say. Actually, she would have said something herself, had she not chosen to kiss you.

She was whimpering as she devoured your lips. She held your cheek and let the passion infect you too. It was like in these little kisses, these little touches, she found a promise that it would all be okay. 

(It would be - in all due time.)

You closed your eyes. Shock melted into passion, passion melted into the need to carry her to the edge of your table. Everything about her was perfect. You believed that until now.

It never stopped. Your fingers laced into her golden brown hair to lead her face closer. You would burn if she left you. Your mouth trailed hotly down her neck anyway. Even here, in the little space where her skin flexed and sweat, she was delicious.

You noticed her ragged breathing and stopped. Was it alright if you tore away the line that put you apart? 

You couldn’t say anything. Were you really doing this? To a student? To a girl that you adored?

Olivia’s legs were spread open. Her chin below yours, she blinked up at you. “Ma’am?”

Your thighs squirmed together. The word eternally had this meaning, this double-edged sword that killed you. “Yes?” you asked.

“Wh-What do you think of me?” Olivia asked weakly. The vulnerability in her question was painfully sweet.

You kissed down her chest and opened her blouse. Little gasps coming from her pulsing throat sounded like heaven. Her pretty bra cupped her breasts and she was just singing these tiny moans - begging you to take it off, begging you get your hand all up under her skirt; make the lines of her mouth twist with shock and pleasure; change the color of her face to red. Oh, she needed you to do a lot of things to her - you knew you wanted to do each one of those when you saw her walk in through that door.

Your tongue played with her stiff nipple. She began to move around, afraid to moan yet afraid to leave you hanging. 

“I think,” you said, before giving a final peck to the sensitive chest that came up to your mouth, “you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

Pretty face, pretty soul. Eyes as big as the heart everyone thought was ice cold. Lashes as long as her patience, her understanding. The beat of her heart matching the loudness of her need to feel good, just for one night.

“Oh.” She sighed. A familiar pink settled over her cheeks. “I really like hearing that from you.”

“Want me to keep talking to you?” It was impossible how every scape of her flesh was appetizing. You licked behind her ear, where she could hear every word. “Want me to tell you how pretty my Princess is, what a good girl she is for me?”

Her thighs clamping around you was enough answer. She was nodding and nodding, the desperate little thing. She was just coming undone. The student, who was so confident and collected, sat on your desk with her uniform tor and lips swollen from kissing.

Her lips. 

You pressed a kiss to your fingertips before tracing them to her mouth. Olivia’s lips were cushiony soft. When you slipped your digits past them, she rolled her eyes back.

Your fingers were the source where she drank and drank. Small moans fought their way out of her. She was enjoying this too much. The angry heat left in her body changed to one she enjoyed. This one made her feel giddy, made the little hairs on her skin rise. And Olivia had to voice it out in tiny sighs which provoked something in you. 

It wasn’t right, but weren’t you entitled to a little sin?

You freed her mouth and instead imprisoned her chin with your hand, letting them float around her face. “You know where these are going Princess?” 

Olivia shook her head. Behind that innocent look, you had a feeling she knew. 

A path forged down to her skirt. It was unfair that the uniform fit her so perfectly. Under the blazer, the blouse, the curve of her body slanted beneath your touch. There came the hourglass line of her waist then the flare of her hips, full around your palms.

Olivia was getting an idea now. No sound needed to leave her mouth when it could all be read from her face. The puppy dog eyes, the quiver of her lips, the red of her cheeks.

“These are slipping right under this skirt,” you continued. You did as you said. Her slim thigh was held by a long, white stocking. It would stay on. “Right between your legs, through this pretty white underwear. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes. Oh god.” She shut her eyes. “Take it off, take it off-”

Olivia gasped sharply as you touched her. You weren’t in her - not yet. But she was already this sensitive. She squirmed around at how you cupped her core, felt how she was cleanly trimmed through the thin undershorts, how the heat was unbearable. You had to do something about it.

Not yet. You clicked your tongue, continuing to feel her. You would take your sweet time with this princess, make her feel good, make her remember this night. 

“You can’t boss me around, Sweetheart.” Sweet talk never truly left your conversations despite the scolding. Punishing a poor little girl who keened and sighed to your touches was cruel enough. It was like wielding an upside-down cross to an angel. “Play nice. What do you say when you want something?”

Olivia kept shimmying her hips into your palm. Her fingers struggled on the desk to keep her stable, and her mind struggled as well to do the same. 

“P-Please.”

“Yes?”

“Please . . . ” Olivia breathed, “please fuck me, Ma’am.”

Shit.

You wasted no time. She was true to being a princess - her panties were lace, frilled and white, a bow on the top. Perhaps it was simply you admiring Olivia like you always had, but it was making you so pent up: seeing her with her skirt lifted, the front of her blouse unbuttoned, her long legs embroiled in a fight not to close.

Olivia whined in response to your thumb caressing her clit over the fabric. The rhythm had her chest tightening while her breathing abruptly lost itself. She was done with the teasing. 

So were you.

You hooked on the sides of the fabric and gently pulled them down. And God - if her panties were pretty, her pussy was even more so. Her wetness glistened, as if telling you it would look better coating your fingers. Filling your mouth. Sheening your thigh.

You pushed first, not pulled. 

“Oh . . . oh.” Olivia lowered her head with her eyes squeezed shut. She was throbbing like crazy. She lifted her head and you could see the gratification written (no, scrawled) all over her face. “Ma’am, I- oh . . . ”

You let yourself curl inside her for a moment. The texture of her walls slid over your skin and the wetness satiated your thirst. Slowly, she took over you. And it was the same on your end - you slid yourself deeper and felt for her sensitivity. It was everywhere, taking from the whines she let out and the frown on her lips.

“Princess,” you said. ”You are so fucking tight.” 

You couldn’t even start thrusting. What if you hurt her? 

“Just clenching around me, yeah?” You caressed her nub in slow circles. “So damned wet too. Fuck-”

One hand on the small of her back, you buried yourself inside her. Her gasps were shorter and blunter as you fixed yourself inside her. The only thing that made it easier was her wetness, sticking to you and allowing faster movements.

You smoothed her hair as she threw her head back. Her collarbone stood out from beneath the fabric. You pressed your lips there with a nibble gentle enough to increase the sensitivity that set her skin on fire. As her jawline grazed your mouth, you felt her moans vibrate below it. You wondered if she knew how pretty she sounded. 

She lost everything once you sucked on that spot. Olivia sounded prettier.

“Ma’am, Ma’am, please-” Olivia thrashed around as if she were a wild animal. What if she were? And not the royal she made herself out to be? She rode your fingers with a fury that beat the angriest of hearts, but she was whimpering - lips pursed; sweet little sounds barely escaping their soft prison. No, this girl was too angelic, too fragile to be feral - but the ferocity of her hips and the grip she had on your wrist said otherwise.

Maybe it was fate that she took you so well. All the little conversations, all that twisted yearning pinned the thread right to this moment wherein you got lost immediately upon sinking inside her cunt. She was so tight, almost too tight, but her wetness let you finger her without having to be careful. You had a feeling she didn’t want you to be careful at all.

And the thing between you and this pretty girl you had literally wrapped around your fingers? The intuition was always right. 

Yes, she wanted you to nip at her beautiful shoulder so she moaned louder. Yes, she wanted you to keep a hand firm around her ass so she wouldn’t collapse against the wood. Yes, she wanted all of this - and it’s not in you to say no.

Neither was it in Olivia. The pitiable girl was tearful. Turns out it wasn’t the cigarettes that would eat away at her cleverness, the breath leaving her weak lungs - it was the pleasure. “Yes yes, oh my God, I need them, I need it, need you to ruin me-”

Her words were an invitation to add another finger, and perhaps fuck her harder on this desk. No one had to know. Not the school, not the students - it was just you and Olivia, in your own world, kissing and touching.

It was, too, an invitation you accepted.

Her chin tipped back. “M-mmm, oh!” Olivia cried. Those long lashes carried big tears that fell down her cheeks, as if she were a mystical saint, the monarch of monarchs, a girl worth worshiping. Saint Olivia Hayes, martyred by a want that blossomed in her chest for far too long. Drink from the nectar between her legs and she’d grant a miracle as good as an orgasm. “It’s just- it’s- oh-”

You thumbed at her clit fast. It was so easy to get her moaning and whining but you still felt that you had to work hard. You had to make love to her in a way that she’d forget everything. You had to drive yourself in her like you were trying to start the engine of her insanity. Oh, come on - whose approval were you trying to gain? Olivia’s? 

Plausible. Because the ache of your wrist you would trade over and over  for the shiver of her body and those big blue eyes staring at you with this subtext that said if you give it to her harder, she might just be yours. 

“More.” You felt her twitch around you, your fingers wrapped by the heavenly feel of her pussy. “Oh fuck me now, faster. I deserve it, I’ve been so good.”

“Of course you have.” You lifted her face and looked at her with the gaze of a doting teacher, almost making this moment justifiable. You were only taking care of her. This was nothing out of the ordinary, teacher and student. “You deserve everything, Princess. Oh, you don’t even have to ask for anything. I’ll give it all to you, baby, I promise.”

And this was around the time, or perhaps exactly when, Olivia melted. Her cheeks flushed and her pout ran deeper. As queen bee and campus celebrity, she carried herself as if she didn’t need anything, not even a compliment. But the need throbbed and screamed inside her. This was the true Olivia, wanting to be petted and praised and kissed. You were the one to satiate it.

You rubbed the tips of your fingers along her weak spots while thrusting quickly. The marriage of your eyes obligating her to meet them, the curl of your fingers, the thumb at her chin - it was too much. She was pushed to the edge and she could fall at any moment.

“Don’t-” Olivia shook her head. Tears ran freely. She didn’t know what she was feeling anymore. The lust was overwhelming and there were too many things she wanted you to do to her. “Fuck… oh God, please!”

Your thumb worked on her swollen clit; meanwhile, you’d spread her legs and instantly slid your tongue through her slit. It’s fucking crazy - when her flavor pooled in your mouth and you drank her freely, she tasted like a memory. You’re already missing her. She was a habit you wouldn’t think to kill off and she’d grow within you and become part of you.

And you would lose her. Just like that.

But you would never, ever, forget her.

You lapped her up. You savored her because the repercussions would catch up and you had to save every last bit of her until you could. Oh, she was screaming, loud and raw - you heard her despite her soft thighs clamping around your head. You kept them there. You wanted to stay in her forever.

“Too much,” Olivia implored, but not for you to stop. She had a fist around your scalp and another around your heart. “Ma’am please, you’re going too fast!”

This was the first time in her life she liked being overwhelmed. Her novel plot of an expression twisted and turned - (it would end like this: beautifully, yet not the way you wanted.) She pouted, she smiled in spite of, she gaped. She did everything and showed you how good you were being to her. But nothing quite prepared her for the feel of your lips tight around her clit.

Her river flowed and flowed. She arched her back and screamed for what all of it was worth. She fell in love with you and you let her dance on the tip of your tongue. You fell in love with her and she let you quench your thirst with her taste. You - two women, from two different lives - fell in love with each other, and you weren’t quite sure how to end that.

You secured her clit in your mouth and sucked as hard as you can. She burst into tears, trying and crying and swearing that she couldn’t handle more but she’d chew off more than what she can stomach, for when the orgasm bubbled in the pit of her stomach, she knew that it was going to be difficult.

“Ma’am, please, I don’t think I can handle it.” 

You were sure you were going to suffocate. The hold of her thighs around your neck was deadly. 

“No, please make me cum, it’s too much!” She sobbed and rode you harder. “I can’t I can’t I can’t, Ma’am, Mommy-”

And there it ended. With the sudden drumming of your heart you didn’t know how to do it. But it finished itself with your Princess finishing on your face, static shock running through her blood and looking quite lost in her own world. 

It happened. The expectation of it did not make it easier. Ronny’s photos reached the school authorities and the students. Every detail was out there in the spotlight. It included how you met, how you admired her from afar, how you were caught smoking suspiciously alone with her.

You were brought in and quietly dismissed. Nobody wanted attention brought to the school already gained by the murders happening. It was an unsafe place, for both your heart and soul. It was just right to leave.

You didn’t get to have a last conversation with Olivia. Afterwards, she simply sat there on the desk with her eyes closed and exhausted. Her head rested on your heart. You could still feel it now, as you sat at home, looking for another job. There was no use tearing up about it. It was wrong from the start and it was wrong now.

A few tears did end up on the black and white ink of the classifieds.

Not a day went by that you didn’t think of Olivia. How was she doing? Was your Princess coping? To be outed like that to what she saw as her world, to be named a slut and villain by her peers . . . it couldn’t be easy. You wanted to apologize to her in some sort of way. It would be to pay back all the good things she’d done for you. She was a good listener, a good student, a good girl. She deserved to be okay.

But how?

The answer came to you one day in the form of an email, from an unknown address but a familiar name:

We broke the rules. How about we and some good friends of mine break more to get even?

You in? ;)

Yours, 

Princess