#anyway not like we go to the park more than a few times a year since no one can actually tell if their dog is dog friendly or not đ
screwed up and brilliant - matty healy
(mdni) in which your whirlwind summer takes a turn you never could have predicted. part two of white and gold. 16185 words.
warnings (here we go): daddy kink (obvs), phone sex, authority kink, roleplay, dom/sub dynamics, mean dom!matty, spanking, semi-public sex, gagging, oral (f receiving), mentions of anal, vague allusions to parental fuckery
The singular thought circling through your head the entire way home is what the fuck. If it werenât for the soreness in your muscles, the bruises on your thighs and your embarrassing lack of underwear, youâd believe you dreamt the whole thing. You stop the taxi a little ways down your street, trying not to draw attention to yourself returning from your unbelievable night. Itâs not like your parents would know exactly where youâve been, but youâd rather save yourself the embarrassment of getting caught coming home from a hookup.
It turns out you didnât need to worry, though, your footsteps echoing through an empty house as you let yourself in the back. Checking your phone for the first time since you left the dinner with Matty, critically low battery and a text from your mother flash up at you. Weâve gone out for lunch at the Dove. Love you x, the text informs you, a sense of guilty relief washing over you. Thereâs few things you love more than your house being empty; your shoulders loose without your motherâs nervous, slightly oppressive energy and your fatherâs meaningful and disappointed glances. Your steps are light as you waltz up the stairs to your room, flinging open your wardrobe to start getting ready before you realise you donât know what you should be dressing for.
You tip out your clutch onto the bed, business cards, lipgloss and a forgotten pair of earrings spilling on your sheets as you dig for Mattyâs number. Tapping the keyboard idly, you try to think of a good opening message, inspiration striking as you catch sight of a discarded bra on your bedroom floor. You slip into a favourite set, black with gold detailing and leaving very little to the imagination, and pose in your bedroom mirror, texting the photo to Matty.
hi x
trying to get ready but i donât know what to wear :( where are we going?
Fucking hell
Hi, pretty girl
You could wear that and Iâd be a very happy man
yeah i bet you would
answer the question perv
I donât want to spoil the surprise
if you donât tell me im changing
Fine
Brat
Itâs nice but relaxed
Youre not dressing for dinner its not that hard
rude
pick me up in an hour ;)
You turn back to your wardrobe with a groan â what the fuck does he mean by nice but relaxed? A skirt and a nice top? Heels or no heels? What are you supposed to do with your hair? Leafing through your clothes, you find a green sundress tucked away near the back, a vintage treasure youâd picked up at a market a few years ago and promptly forgotten about. By some stroke of luck, it fits perfectly, the skirt swirling gorgeously around your calves. Your reflection grins back at you as you dust on some makeup, finding a dangling pair of jade earrings to match.
Exactly on cue, your phone rings, flashing up Mattyâs contact. âHi, love. Iâm outside â well, as close as I dare, anyway. Iâm on a double yellow, actually. Risking my spotless driving record for you.â
You snort. âTheyâve gone out, park in the drive. Iâll come to the door.â You pad down the stairs as Mattyâs tyres crunch on the gravel outside. Smoothing down your hair nervously, you take a deep breath, the blurry outline of him visible through the stained glass of your front door. You swing the door open as Matty raises his fist to knock, giggling slightly at the way he stands, his hand hovering meaninglessly in midair.
His eyes blow wide as he takes you in, crowding you close in a split-second. âHi, princess,â he grins, electricity tingling under your skin where he holds you by the waist, his body pressed against yours. âIf nobodyâs home, I can do this,â he breathes, catching your lips and kissing you deeply, licking into your mouth like a starving man.
After a long moment, you find the strength to push him away. âMatty, the neighbours!â you protest.
âFine,â Matty says, walking you inside and kicking the door shut behind him. He pulls you back to him, catching your lips in a filthy kiss, a slide of lips and tongue, sticky with desire. Groaning into your mouth, his lips fall to your neck, pressing kisses over the concealed bruises on your neck. You can tell he wants to cover them, mark you up as his own, and you giggle as you push his head back.
âDo we have to go to lunch?â you tease. âTheyâre not gonna be back for hours.â
Matty pinches your ass through your skirt. âNeedy girl. Youâll love the place, I promise.â Slowly, like it pains him, he lets go of you and steps back, eyes widening as he properly takes in the sight of you for the first time. âGod, you look gorgeous, princess. You look like summer.â You flush, shifting on your feet and glancing at the floor. âCanât believe I get to have you. You know everyone who sees you is gonna be fuckinâ jealous of me, gonna want my pretty girl for themselves?â He looks livid at the mere prospect, a muscle jumping in his jaw.
You giggle. âBut Iâll be there with you. Why would I want anyone else?â you assure him, stretching up to kiss at the corners of his mouth until he cracks a smile. Your chest aches a little at the sight, a private moment of happiness stretching between you. You can almost see the path along with it, a brief flicker of a life with him dancing in your imagination before you swat it away.
Fuck, youâre in too deep. Youâre hurtling towards a vast expanse of something, and you donât even have the strength to look away. You can only hope the breakneck pace isnât going to break your heart, too.
âThatâs right,â Matty says, after what feels like an eternity. âAll mine, yeah? Shall we?â
You nod, not yet trusting yourself to speak, and take his hand, sliding into the passenger seat of his car. The smell of clean leather envelops you, mixed with Mattyâs now-familiar cigarettes and cologne smell. Mattyâs hand lands on your thigh and traces absent circles as he reverses out of the drive. The streets roll by, rows of houses all merging together, your eyes glazing over while you avoid Mattyâs gaze. âSo pretty, baby,â he murmurs. âMy pretty little passenger princess.â
âDoes that mean youâll drive me anywhere I want?â you tease, finally bringing your gaze back to Matty. The afternoon light casts him in a soft glow, his curls ruffling in the gentle breeze. He taps his fingers absently on the wheel, a sick thrill running through you as you remember feeling them on your skin, thighs clenching needily under his touch. You slide a hand between his legs, smirking at the hiss he lets out when you palm gently over his cock. âPromise Iâll make it worth your while,â you add teasingly, plying him with wide, innocent eyes.
Matty chuckles darkly and returns his other hand to the wheel, your skin impossibly cold in the absence his touch leaves behind. âYou gonna get me off right here? In the car with the windows down? Such a naughty girl.â He inclines his head as if to say go on, calling your bluff, and you lower your gaze and return your hand to your lap, subdued. âThatâs what I thought. Donât make promises you canât keep, princess.â
You shrug. âWouldnât want to taint your spotless driving record,â you tease, and he tips back his head and laughs, the sound filling the car and wrapping around you, your head going fuzzy with affection. A few minutes later, Matty puts the car in park, leaning over the centre console to kiss you. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumbing lightly over your cheek and smiling against your lips. Ever the gentleman, he comes to the passenger side to let you out, and you take his arm and let him lead you inside.Â
âAfternoon,â Matty greets the maĂźtre dâ with a polite smile. âHealy for two, one thirty?â
âAh, yes, right this way, sir,â he says, his eyes flickering curiously over you as he leads you through the restaurant.
His gaze lands judgmentally on Matty when he tugs you into him by the waist, and you bristle, deliberately planting a kiss on his cheek as you walk. âWould you like to sit inside or outside?â the maĂźtre dâ asks in a tone that suggests heâd rather be anywhere else.
âCan we sit outside, please? Itâs such a nice day,â you say, and Matty grins indulgently down at you. He inclines his head at the maĂźtre dâ, who leads you into the restaurantâs courtyard. Your jaw drops at the oasis youâve suddenly found yourself in, lush green dotted through with glass tables, quiet chatter undercut with the splash of a dancing water fountain.
âThis place is gorgeous,â you say as Matty pulls out your chair for you. âDo you come here a lot?â
He sees right through you, smirking over his menu. âIâve never brought a girl here,â he tells you, answering the question youâre really asking.
âYou keep saying that,â you say thoughtfully. âNo bullshitting this time, what makes me so special?â
Matty meets your eyes, holding your gaze deadly serious. âI donât date a lot, princess,â he tells you. âThe girls that I⊠spend time withâŠâ Your jaw clenches. âTheyâre not⊠Well, I need to feel a connection, you know? And I hadnât felt it in a long time. I was kind of starting to give up hope,â he huffs a quiet laugh, a soft smile crossing his face when he speaks. âAnd then I met you, and I could just feel it.â Heâs gazing adoringly at you, and you suddenly wonder if maybe itâs okay that youâre in too deep, because maybe, just maybe, heâs right there with you.
âMatty, Iââ
âGood afternoon!â a bright, falsely cheery voice cuts in. âAre you both ready for drinks?â
Annoyed at the interruption, you purse your lips and address Matty. âI donât know⊠What do you think I should get?â you grin, deliberately playing up the affection, leaning towards him and batting your lashes.
âI donât know, darling. Are you feeling like wine?â
âI can come back,â the waitress says, all pretence at cheer abandoned as she taps her pencil against her notepad impatiently.
Rolling your eyes, you wave a hand at her. âNo, stay. Just give me a minute to decide, âkay?â You scan the menu and deliberately order the most expensive rosĂ© with a smirk in Mattyâs direction. He shrugs, ordering himself a Malbec, and the waitress finally buzzes off.
It feels inappropriate to return to your conversation after the interruption, and you chuckle awkwardly. The breeze ripples in the silence between you, pulling clouds away from the sun so it shines directly into your eyes. Wincing, you shield your face, squinting in a way youâre sure is horrendously unattractive. Matty laughs softly. âHere you go, darling,â he says, pulling his sunglasses off his head and gently resting them on your face. âGod, and here I thought you couldnât get any prettier,â he adds, and you flush, picking at imaginary lint on your dress to avoid his gaze.Â
âFlatterer,â you scoff, kicking softly at his shin. âThank you,â you add, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
âSânothing, princess. Keep âem, if you want.â Matty shrugs as if theyâre inconsequential, and not a two hundred pound accessory. âSmoke?â he offers as youâre still reeling.
You nod, tilting your head quizzically. âThought you didnât want me ruining my lungs?â you tease, slipping the cigarette between your lips.
Matty chuckles. âItâs a beautiful day, youâre getting fresh air, your pretty lungs will survive one,â he teases, flicking his lighter under your cigarette as you take a deep drag.
His gaze lingers meaningfully on you as the smoke curls from your mouth and you squirm. âWhat?â you ask, desire evident in his eyes; he just keeps fucking staring.
He blinks, shaking his head as if to clear it. âSorry,â he murmurs. âGod, you look fucking hot,â he adds with a chuckle. Just as you go to reply, the waitress returns with your drinks. You give a cursory thanks and take a long sip, full flavour swirling in your mouth. âYou know, I wouldnât have put you down as a dry wine kind of girl,â Matty remarks. âSweet little thing like you.â
You flush the colour of your wine, but meet his gaze in challenge. âYou donât know everything about me.â
âIâd like to,â he says immediately, and you swallow thickly, his ability to disarm you frustratingly constant. Heâs so fucking perfect, itâs actually disgusting. As youâre searching for a response, he perks up, tilting his head to tune into the song playing quietly over some unseen speaker. âOh, man, I havenât heard this song in forever,â he gasps, a boyish grin spreading across his face. âI was obsessed with this one when I was younger. Used to be on my bandâs setlist and everything.â
Your jaw drops. âYou were in a band?â you demand. âWere you any good?â
Matty chuckles. âIâd like to think so. Sâa shame it didnât pan out, really. I wouldâve made a great rockstar, donât you think?â he smirks, visions of Matty clad in a leather jacket, sweaty and gorgeous, crooning into a microphone swimming across your vision.
âFuck, yeah. Iâd have hated fighting your hordes of fangirls for your attention, though,â you sigh, and his grin widens as you stroke his ego. âWere you the guitarist?â you ask, memories of his calloused hands ghosting over your skin.
He scoffs, insulted. âI was the frontman, obviously.â
âObviously,â you repeat, teasingly blowing smoke in his face as you stub out your cigarette. âBut you still play?â
âYeah,â Matty says, smiling wistfully, the expression taking years off him so clearly that you can almost see the ambitious, idealistic boy he must have been. You hope thereâs a world where the band worked out for him, even if it means youâd never have met. âSâjust a hobby, though,â he shrugs, interrupting your reverie. âYou should hear my mate Hann, heâs fucking wicked.â
Taking a sip of your wine, you sigh meaningfully. âIâve always wanted to learn how to play the guitar.â You lean purposefully on the words, and Matty grins.
âYou want me to teach you?â
You smile blithely. âOh, please. I can sight read sheet music and everything, Iâd be such a good student, Professor,â you add, smirking as he stiffens slightly.
âOh, behave,â he scolds lightly, tugging at his
collar as if heâs sweating at your words.Â
âMake me,â you giggle, meeting his eyes in challenge.
âYou know I will, princess,â he says seriously, your skin prickling hot as he watches you, daring you to break first. Youâre saved from having to, though, by the same waitress coming to take your order. Not even having picked up the food menu, you let Matty order for you, trusting his taste.Â
As it turns out, his taste is impeccable, down to the steak being cooked exactly the way you like. âGod, this is fucking delicious,â you exclaim, digging in eagerly. âThis place is amazing,â you add, unable to keep the beaming smile off your face. You chat back and forth for a couple of hours, asking about his family and his childhood, cooing at the stories he tells. If anyone were listening, theyâd probably be nauseated by your obscene flirting, getting bolder as Matty continues plying you with wine even as he switches to water.
The same waitress returns, the false cheer bright in her tone as she offers you dessert menus. âNo, thanks,â you say without taking your eyes off Matty. âWe have dessert at home.â You flash your teeth in a grin so there can be no mistaking your meaning.
Matty picks up the bill, and you donât even pretend to protest. Itâs been years since youâve been on a date you didnât have to pay for, guys your age from your circles unusually stingy, and you feel guilty expecting broke college boys to pay for you. And itâs only feminist to split the bill with another girl, anyway. âDessert, yeah?â he smirks as you slide into the passenger seat, and you squirm.
âI promise Iâm just as sweet,â you tease. âTake me to yours and Iâll show you exactly how sweet I can be.â
Matty clicks his tongue. âI donât think so,â he says, and your stomach sinks. âGood girl like you shouldnât put out on the first date, or didnât your daddy teach you any better?â he says, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.
God, heâs a fucking tease. âYou didnât teach me anything like that, Daddy,â you pout. âYou canât get me all needy looking this hot and not let me have you. Sânot fair.â You fold your arms, sulking.
âOh, angel,â he tuts. âNot figured it out, yet? I donât have to be fair.â And with that, your fate is sealed, Matty dropping you home and leaning over for a chaste kiss that he resists your attempts to deepen. âIâll see you soon, princess. You know where to find me,â he promises, your eyes not leaving him until his car turns the corner and disappears from view.
You slope inside, disappointed and unsatisfied, plagued with the thought of where you could be right now if Matty had taken you home with him. Your fatherâs car is in the drive, and you groan to yourself, utterly uninterested in explaining yourself. Of course, youâre expected to anyways. âWhere have you been?â your mother demands, and you fold your arms. If sheâd asked out of curiosity, genuine interest, it would be different, but she only wants to know so she can approve or disapprove, sneering consternation written across her face.
âOut,â you say shortly, thick tension pulling taut between you.
âWith who?â she asks, lips pursed.
âA friend,â you snap. âGod, Mum, I went out for lunch, whatâs it to you? Iâm a grown-ass woman, I shouldnât have to ask my mummy for permission to leave the house!â
âLanguage!â she exclaims, and you roll your eyes and push past her, storming up the stairs and slamming the door, finally breathing easy when the lock on your door forms a decisive barrier between you and your parents. Left alone, it doesnât take long for your thoughts to drift back to Matty and the ache he left between your thighs. You wonder if heâs home yet, if heâll want to hear your voice, or if itâs too soon.
You war with yourself for a few minutes, but your desire wins out, calling Matty up and laying back against your pillows. âHello, darling.â He picks up on the second ring. âMissing me already?â
âMhm,â you murmur, the mere sound of his voice sending a pulse of desire thrumming through you. âThinkinâ about you. About how you got me all needy.â
He laughs darkly. âGod, what am I going to do with you? Naughty girl canât even keep her hands to herself for an hour. Are you getting wet for me, angel?â
âYes,â you moan happily, thrilled to get what you want. âI need you.â
âYou beg so pretty, baby,â he coos, grunting softly, and you can just picture him, cock half-hard in his palm as you hear the rustle of clothes dropping to the floor. âCâmon, tell Daddy what you want.â
You whimper, dipping your hand under your waistband, slick pooling against your fingertips. âWish you were touching me,â you moan. âCouldâve brought me home with you. Couldâve bent me over anywhere you wanted, stuffed me full and fucking used me.â
âSuch a slut,â Matty murmurs, faint, slick sounds echoing from the other end of the call as he grunts rhythmically. The image of him makes you dizzy, fisting his cock messily, hips thrusting into his hand. You moan quietly, rubbing slow, tight circles into your clit. âAre you touching yourself?â You murmur an affirmative. âStop.â Your blood runs cold, like youâve been doused in ice water.
âWh- What?â you hiss, disbelieving.
âYou heard me, darling. I told you, good girls donât put out on the first date. Daddyâs teachinâ you manners, yeah?â
âThatâs not fair, Daddy,â you whine again. âDonât need you to tell me when I can get off. Managed just fine before you came along,â you add petulantly.
Matty just laughs. âOkay, baby. Iâm sure you did. You could hang up this call right now, get yourself off all on your own. But you wonât,â he says, smugly confident. âYou know why? Because Daddy knows whatâs best for brats like you. And, really, you just wanna be my good, sweet, dumb little girl, donât you, angel?â
Thick, choking lust envelops you, crushing the air from your lungs as you find yourself whimpering, âYes, Daddy. Wonât touch anymore,â you say, your mouth moving without your brainâs say-so.
Your body hums with energy, tense with the knowledge you wonât be allowed to release it. âGood girl,â Matty croons, your chest warming at the praise. âStill gotta punish you for beinâ a brat, though,â he adds, through a soft moan. âDonât want you touchinâ that pretty cunt without my permission, âkay?â Your stomach sinks, arousal flaring impossibly in your gut.
âOkay, Daddy. Iâll be good,â you promise, his appreciative moan sending heat spiralling between your legs. You stay on the call until the sound of Matty spilling into his fist fills your ears, leaving you sticky and fucking throbbing with need. It takes you what feels like forever to get your breathing under control enough that your legs will stop shaking to carry you to the shower. You gasp as you plunge into the freezing cold spray, barely enough to quench the fire rolling through your veins. Unable to resist, you text Matty a picture of yourself when you step out, the steam on the mirror teasingly blurring your wet, naked body.
And that is the last time you hear Mattyâs voice for an entire fucking week. There always seems to be some obstacle, a friendâs birthday, or a dinner youâre not invited to, or both of you are up to your eyeballs in pointless, mind-numbing work. Youâd almost think he was avoiding you, if not for your constant back-and-forth over text and Mattyâs incessant pleas for you to visit him at the office. You resist for a while, terrified of being caught and what that would mean for this⊠thing⊠thatâs blooming between you, still fragile and new.
But itâs driving you fucking crazy, and you miss him, so after a week, you find an excuse; because youâre a good, dutiful daughter, youâre bringing your father lunch to share after he cancelled your meal out yesterday. You zone out after the same five minutes of talking in circles, giving automatic, robotic responses you know he wants to hear. It would be a lie to say you didnât breathe a sigh of relief when the lift doors ding shut, carrying you up to Mattyâs office. You havenât told him youâre coming, hoping your presence will be a welcome surprise. What you hadnât counted on, though, was his bleach-blonde secretary, idly tapping on her keyboard and actively standing in your way.
Your heart sinks. Sheâs pretty, unbelievably so, and barely older than you. If Matty hasnât already had her, which you doubt, itâs crossed his mind. What if thatâs what heâs been doing, all those times heâs complained about leaving the office late? A vision of her spread out on his desk fills your mind, Matty crooning his sweet, filthy words into her ear as her chest heaves. Her boobs are fake, you decide, your gaze flickering to them. Itâs not humanly possible for a pair of tits to be that big and perky at the same time. Pushing down the jealousy roiling in your gut, you step up to her desk. Her eyes sweep over you, unimpressed, and she purses her lips.
You push your shoulders back, letting the snotty, spoiled brat whoâs never been told no free, a snide grin spreading across your features. It feels fucking good to exercise that facet of your personality again, having tamped down on it since you went to uni â makes it easier to play well with others. Impatiently, you click your fingers in front of the womanâs face. âIâm here to see Mr. Healy,â you say with a saccharine smile. Sure, you could just call him and tell him youâre outside, but this is so much more fun. Especially now that you get to mess with her head, too. Mattyâs never fucked her, but she wants him to, you can tell by the way her face falls when she sees you. Good, you think vindictively. Maybe blondes donât have more fun. Not with him, at least.
âDo you have an appointment?â she asks, voice nasally and grating.
You sigh, like sheâs asking you a ridiculous question. âNo, but heâll want to see me, trust me. Tell him⊠Tell him Angel is here, yeah?â She looks at you, sceptical and detached. âMy parents were hippies, what can you do?â you shrug, raising your eyebrows and flicking your fingers patronisingly at her, as if to say go on. Your gazes lock in a battle of wills for a brief moment, but you grin victoriously when she picks up her phone.
âHello, sir. Thereâs a girl out here asking to see you.â The way she says girl feels like a slur dripping from her overglossed lips. âSays her nameâs Angel? She doesnât have an appointment, I can send her away, if you like. Wonât be a problem.â
âNo, no, send her in. And, for future reference, sheâs welcome anytime, okay? No appointment necessary. Actually, Iâll come get her.â Mattyâs voice is faint from the other end of the phone, but distinct enough that you can hear his words and the click as he sets the phone down. Seconds later, he emerges from his office, breaking into a wide grin at the sight of you. âHello, angel,â he grins, kissing your cheek politely but lingering a little longer than appropriate. âFeels like itâs been forever. Come on in, yeah?â He takes you by the waist and leads you to his office, and you throw a smirk over your shoulder at the secretary as you go, a clear message: I win, you lose. âOh, and Ruby? Nobody in my office for the next hour, alright?â She flushes as red as her name suggests, glaring at you furiously, trying to tell you this isnât over. You ignore her, though, because you and Matty are finally alone.
âOnly an hour?â you giggle. âYouâre losing your touch, sir.â
âOh, sir, hm? Thatâs new,â he teases as you perch on his desk, drinking in the sight of him with something dangerously close to relief.
You lean forward. âShe wants you. So fucking badly,â you remark.
âI know,â he shrugs, loosening his tie with one hand and stroking your bare thigh with the other.
This time, you let the jealousy bubble up to the surface. âHave you ever fucked her?â You know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.
Matty laughs. âHave you ever heard the expression, donât shit where you eat?â he asks, and you wrinkle your nose and nod. âWell, that goes double for the young, hot blonde the company dangles in front of you like fucking bait, just waiting for you to cross a line.â
Youâre starting to see red, his words nothing close to what you wanted to hear. âBut you would. If she didnât work for you.â
He shrugs. âMaybe.â He grips your hips, sliding you closer to him, dislodging stacks of paper and pens from his desk. âIf I didnât have you.â Then, his fingers creep higher, tantalisingly close to where you want them, and you push down the argument you were about to start. Giving up the best sex youâve ever had isnât worth it just because you got a little too possessive over someone who isnât actually yours.
âSheâd never be as good as me,â you say bitterly. âI donât think a man like you would let a little red tape stop you if you actually wanted her. Whatâs wrong with her, really?â
Matty smirks. âJealous girl,â he says smugly. âDonât wanna talk about her when I could have this,â he adds, rubbing slow, teasing circles into your thigh. You whine softly, arching forward into his touch. âYouâd be better than her, yeah? You wanna prove it?â You tilt your head quizzically. âLetâs say youâre my secretary, yeah, baby?â
A thrill runs up your spine. âYes, sir,â you breathe. You slide off the desk to prop yourself in the chair opposite his, unbuttoning your blouse a little and leaning back with a smirk. âYou wanted to see me, sir?â you say, playing up your wide, innocent eyes.
âYes,â Matty says thoughtfully. âI think we need to discuss your behaviour in my office.â You bite your lip to clamp down on your grin, nodding seriously. âAlways in those short little skirts, bendinâ over so you can show off those pretty, lace panties. You wear those for me, donât you, baby?â
You smirk, popping the buttons of your blouse past decency. âYouâre wrong, sir.â You spread your legs wide, and he chokes on his inhale. âIâm not wearing any panties.â
Matty groans, sweeping his desk clear, pens and paper scattering across the floor. âBend over,â he orders sharply. âNow.â
You stand to obey, then pause. âWait one second,â you say, darting around the desk so youâre face-to-face. âJust realised I havenât done this yet.â You sling your arms around his neck and press your lips against his, kissing him hungrily and melting at his touch. Desperately, you try not to dissect the relief flooding your body from the point where his hands meet your skin. âOkay,â you say as you pull back, breathless. âMâready now.â
Bracing your elbows on the desk, you bend over, baring your dripping cunt as Matty shoves your skirt up your thighs. âSpread your legs for me.â You obey, but he just growls and kicks them further apart, a shocked sound pulling free from your throat. âWider,â he orders. âNot doinâ such a good job of convincing me youâd be so much better than her, you know,â he says, tone almost conversational if his nails werenât digging into your hips so hard theyâll bruise.Â
Angry, red-hot jealousy floods your veins, tangling cruelly with the ball of anticipation winding tight in your core. You canât decide whether to go lax, let Matty have his good girl, or to fight against him for comparing you to her. It doesnât take long for the brat to win out. âYou want her so bad? Call her in, then,âÂ
You can practically hear Mattyâs eyebrows raise, the realisation you wonât let him have this so easily setting in. âYou want me to, baby?â He clicks his tongue. âI donât think so. I think youâre jealous of the pretty girl who sits outside my office all day.â He reaches around to pop another button of your blouse. âAnd youâre scared of what I might be doing with her when you canât see.â He pulls your shirt out of the waistband of your skirt and tugs it off your shoulders. âSo you want her to know exactly what weâre doing in here, so you can lay some kind of claim on me. Am I right?â Your mind spins as you try to think of a smartass response, thoughts jolted free from your head when Matty spanks you harshly. The crack of skin on skin might have been loud enough to be heard from outside, you think with a pulse of satisfaction. âUnless the next words out of your mouth are yes, sir or yes, Daddy, I donât want to hear it.â
âYes, Daddy,â you moan out, your cunt throbbing needily. âYouâre right. Want her to see how good you fuck me, want her to know she could never make you feel as good as I do,â you say, the admissions stumbling one after another from your lips, unbidden.
âThereâs my good girl,â he coos, your stomach clenching at the sound of his belt unbuckling, his zipper falling. âSuch a little brat when youâre gagging for my cock, arenât you, princess?â You nod furiously, whining as he teases your hole with the tips of his fingers. Desperate for friction, you grind back against them, weak, helpless moans tumbling from your lips. âBeg for it.â You choke on a gasp. âGo on, angel. You want my cock so bad? Beg for it.â
You donât even have time to pretend to have dignity before wanton pleas spill free. âFuck, Daddy, please! Want your cock so fucking bad, always make me feel so good, sânot the same when I do it myself,â you whine, giving a shuddering gasp when he teases your clit with the tip of his cock. âPlease! Iâm begginâ you, Daddy, Iâll be good, I promise.â
Matty chuckles. âAlright, baby, alright,â he murmurs soothingly, lining himself up with your soaked entrance and sliding home so fast youâre gasping. Your knees buckle as you scramble for purchase on the desk, nails scraping against the varnished wood. âOh, princess, itâs okay, Daddyâs here now,â he soothes, your cunt pulsing desperately around him. âLook at you, beinâ all sweet for me now youâre stuffed full. Such a dumb little slut, arenât you, baby? Bet you wish you didnât have to think about anythinâ except my cock.â
âMhm,â you whine, arching your back as much as you can, your tits pressing against the cool wood of the desk. âMâjust your stupid little slut, Daddy, please fuck me,â you beg, grinding back against him.
Mattyâs hips slam suddenly against yours, a whining scream tearing from your throat as pleasure spills over in your veins. His hand comes down to cover your mouth, your body going limp against his. âShh, princess. Iâm at work, remember?â The reminder that fucking anyone could come to his door, know exactly what heâs doing to you, sends a thrill up your spine. âCan you be quiet, hm? Or do I need to make you quiet?â Another deep thrust draws a long, low moan from your throat, and he seems to have answered his own question. The fabric of his tie covers your mouth, spit leaking out around it. âThere you go, angel. Nice and quiet for me. Bang on the desk if you need me to stop, okay?â
You nod, something that might be yes, Daddy coming out garbled around the gag. Matty fucks into you brutally, your chest heaving as ecstasy burns under your skin. âGood girl,â he coos. âGood, sweet girl. Takinâ my cock so well, princess. Such a pretty toy for your Daddy.â
Matty sets a bruising pace, your tongue pushing against his tie as it holds back your pathetic little noises. Your tits press against the desk, the sharp tip of a pencil digging into your bare stomach. You barely feel it, unconscious of anything but Mattyâs skin against yours. âGod, you feel so fucking good, princess. Daddyâs girl, arenât you? Why would I ever want another girl when Iâve ruined you so perfect for me? Look at you, good little girl gagged and bent over my desk like a whore.â You moan, filthy words washing over you, sliding down your throat, sticky, wet pleasure dripping out of you.
Youâre dizzy with lust, dazed and drooling, ecstasy spiralling through your bones. You canât even think, Matty fucking all coherence out of you, every thrust clouding your mind more and more. Garbled moans fall from your lips in a filthy, spit-slick string, Mattyâs rhythmic grunts swirling deliciously around your head. The calloused pads of his fingers find your clit, euphoria scorching in your bloodstream at the scrape over your swollen nerves. Your legs feel like jelly, melting hot and sweet under Mattyâs touch. âYouâre close, arenât you, baby? Can feel your pretty cunt squeezinâ me so tight, princess. You wanna cum for Daddy?â
A few more rough circles over your clit, one more deep, spearing thrust and you break, wailing around the gag. âGood girl,â Matty croons, fucking you through as stars shatter behind your closed lids. Liquid ecstasy melts your bones, glueing you to the desk. Matty groans your name, cock pulsing as he spills inside you, a sound thatâs pure desire falling from his lips. Still inside you, he unties the gag, letting it fall onto the desk as you draw a deep breath. âHow are you feeling, angel?â
âSo good,â you murmur, voice scratchy from disuse, whining as he pulls out of you. âAlways make me feel so good, Daddy,â you add, letting Matty flip you around and set you on the desk, his eyes falling to your glistening core. Cum drips obscenely from you, puddling sticky and wet on his desk, a filthy smirk crossing his face.
âGood girl. So pretty for me, darling.â He tucks himself away, and once his belt is buckled heâs the picture of professionalism while you sit in front of him, sex-rumpled and half-naked and panting. âFirst girl Iâve ever fucked in here, you know,â he adds, so offhand youâd almost miss it if it it hadnât made your heart jump into your throat. You canât make head or fucking tail of him, one minute taunting you with his pretty secretary, the next swearing that youâre special. âMâsorry, darling, I donât have much in here to clean you up with,â he says with a soft laugh, wiping a tissue through your folds and crooning soothingly when you whimper.
âSâokay. Was worth it,â you say. Your limbs feel tired and heavy, your eyelids drooping as you glance at the time and realise half your allotted hour is gone.
âYou tired, sweet girl?â he asks with a soft, fond chuckle.
âYeah,â you yawn. âYou wore me out. Wish we were in bed. That was the best sleep of my life,â you confess, huffing a soft laugh.
You shudder as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch careful and tender. âSoon, princess, I promise. Iâm sorry we havenât seen each other. Missed you,â he says, and the admission melts in your chest, glueing your organs together and squeezing tightly. You sigh, the question on the tip of your tongue dissolving like a sugar pill as your resolve shatters. âHowâs your week been, angel? Your friendâs birthday, right?â
You swallow a grimace. Isobel is hardly your friend, in the same way your parents arenât friends, but you run in the same circles so proximity forced you into something resembling friendship. âOh, the usual,â you say idly, twirling a curl thatâs sprung loose from the gel in his hair around your finger. âDrinks, drugs, boys,â you tease, grinning when his jaw clenches. So he can dish it out but not take it? Interesting.Â
âDid you talk to any boys, princess?â he asks, eyes glittering dangerously.
Shrugging airily, you kick your legs where they dangle off the desk. âSo what if I did?â you challenge. The next words wrench themselves free of your mouth, tasting bitter as they fall. âWeâre only fucking, itâs not like you actually own me. If I want to fuck someone else, are you gonna stop me?â
The question hangs thick and acerbic in the air between you and Matty swallows visibly. âNo,â he says after a pause. âYou can fuck whoever you want, princess. Wonât be as good as me, though, and you know it,â he says, smug and acrid.
The air between you is tense, horribly charged and all wrong, and you can feel tears prickling at the back of your throat. âI should get going,â you say abruptly, getting to your feet. âIâll see you soon,â you add, not looking back at him as you cross the room.
âSay hi to Ruby on your way out, yeah?â Matty says, something close to a sneer in his voice. As you open the door, though, you paste on a blithe smile and relax your shoulders for Rubyâs benefit.Â
âHope itâs not you who has to clean up in there,â you smirk as you pass. âMade a bit of a mess,â you giggle, savouring the way Rubyâs face shifts in colour as she swallows her grimace.
And so you leave Mattyâs office more confused about what he wants than when you fucking came in. Something shifts between you after that. Your words donât change, Matty just as syrupy-sweet as ever, but the difference is palpable, sugared words souring as you digest them. He gets even more possessive while you fuck, more degrading, insisting youâre such a little slut, baby. Whoring yourself out to every fucking boy who looks at you, but you always come runninâ back to your Daddy, yeah?
But itâs not always angry and mean. Sometimes, itâs slow and so sweet you could swear itâs loving, Matty lavishing you with praise, murmurs of thatâs right, such a good girl and Daddyâs girl, so pretty for me soaking into your skin and tying themselves in knots around your brain. Some nights, especially recently, you donât even fuck when you go to his place. Being there is a comfort, away from catty friends and overbearing parents, somewhere you can just be. Last night, youâd suddenly realised you kind of just werenât in the mood, apologising and making to leave, and heâd just kissed your temple, pulled you in close and asked what your favourite movie was. And you started to believe. And then youâll go out for drinks, so much as mention a boyâs name; heâll toss a jab about some pretty young girl he works with, and youâre right back where you started, tearing each other apart at the seams.Â
Youâre this close to ripping your fucking hair out, sick to death of bottling it all up when you finally decide you need to unload on someone. âI just donât get him,â you complain, your best friend Thea making sympathetic noises at all the right moments. âOne minute itâs all youâre my girl and my pretty baby, the next itâs such a whore, bet youâd let anyone fuck you.â
âBut youâre still sleeping at his place?â Thea asks, judgement obvious in her tone.
You groan. âYes, leave me alone! If you saw the state Iâm in after, youâd understand.â
Thea clicks her tongue. âAnd you havenât actually fucked anyone else?â
âNo,â you admit, defeated. âDonât know if I could, to be honest.â
âDoes he know that? Has he?â
âNo and I donât know. I just donât know where I fucking stand, and I canât ask. Heâll think Iâm some pathetic little girl who canât handle it, I know it.â
âYou know what you need? You, me, a pair of slutty little dresses, and those fancy cocktails with about twelve kinds of alcohol in them from 102. Iâm not taking no for an answer, Iâll see you at ten.â
And, true enough, at eleven youâre clutching a gin bowl for dear life and screeching along to the song thumping through the clubâs speakers. âI need a refill, câmon!â you shout in Theaâs ear, dragging her off to the bar where you can hear slightly better.
Despite the queue, the bartender stops in front of you with a smile. âLove that dress. What can I get for you?â You scan the menu, brow scrunching in a frown, but your words die in your throat as the bartender steps into slightly better light and you take her in properly. Sheâs a fucking goddess, model-pretty with thick, dark hair and long-lashed brown eyes.Â
Thea swats your arm and you realise your gaze has drifted down, and you pull it back up to where sheâs waiting with a smirk. âYouâveâ The menuâs changed. I used to get a Sucker,â you manage to get out around the lump in your throat.
âAlright,â she says cryptically. âAnd you?â
Thea shrugs. âIâll have what sheâs having, Iâm not picky.â
She laughs. âOh, no. You two do not pick the same poisons. Iâve got this, okay?â Slightly entranced, you watch her work, setting something golden and glittering in front of you. âSunshine Baby,â she says with a wink. âAnd for you⊠Antichrist.â
Thea takes her swirling, dark drink with a delighted grin. âShe was into you,â she teases, nudging you with her hip.
âOh, please, she wanted a tip.â The pair of you find a table, one with a prime view of the DJ booth so you can ogle the hot, blond DJ as he whips the crowd into a frenzied mass of sweating bodies. You keep returning to the same bartender, whose name you learn is Charli, and she keeps plying you with free shots for hot girls and increasingly strong drinks, until you find yourself stumbling onto the dancefloor and losing track of Thea.
Your head feels light, your body loose in a way it hasnât been in weeks, the alcohol dampening your coherent thoughts. A pair of hands find your waist, and you twist your head back to meet the eyes of their owner. He couldnât be further from Matty if he tried; your age, for one, tall, willowy and blond. The kind of man youâd usually never have looked twice at. But maybe thatâs exactly what you need right now, you think, grinding your hips back against his with a grin. âCan I get your number?â he asks, pulling you free of the dancefloor, sweaty and flushed and smiling freely. After a long moment of consideration, Mattyâs warning gaze flashing in your mind, you smirk and give it to him. âLet me take you out. You free Thursday?â
His overconfidence is jarring, and you swallow a frown. âI donât know,â you tease. âMaybe. Why donât we get back out there and you can convince me?â You obviously arenât going to fucking go. Even as drunk as you are, you know that. Whatever this thing with Matty is, itâs serious to you, and you know the pair of you need to untangle it. But, for now, you shove it to the back of your mind, distracting yourself with free shots from a pretty boy, your head spinning wildly by the time you find Thea.
She might even be drunker than you are, stumbling and slurring as you bundle her into a taxi; she lives on the other side of town to you, so it doesnât make sense to share. âGo, Iâll be fine,â you insist. âThereâll be another one in a minute, okay? Bye! Love you!â you shout as the car pulls away, Theaâs slightly green-tinged face hanging out of the open window. Left alone, you suddenly realise just how drunk you are, your vision blurred as you slump to the curb. When ten minutes pass without a taxi appearing, panic starts to set in; itâs too close to closing time and youâre too drunk, 102 wonât let you back in, and itâll be the same story anywhere up and down the street. Youâre alone in the dark, bile rising in your throat as you do the only thing you can think of and dial Matty.
âHello?â he says, voice gruff with sleep. âBit late to be calling, darling. Canât sleep? Need some help to relax?â he adds, his smirk audible.
Your voice wavers as you speak. âMâsorry, I didnât know who else to call,â you say, choked with the effort of holding back tears. âI canât call my parents, I donât have any fucking friends whoâd care, thereâs no taxis, Iââ you cut yourself off with a hysterical gasp.
Matty shushes you soothingly. âBaby. Baby, breathe. Breathe for me, okay?â You try your best to obey, drawing deep, hiccuping breaths, shuddering harshly on the exhale. âWhatâs wrong, love?â You stumble your way through an explanation, babbling profuse apologies, mortification creeping up your spine. âDarling, itâs okay. Donât be sorry. Where are you?â
â102,â you sniffle. âItâsââ
âI know the place. Sit tight, okay? Iâm getting in the car now, Iâll be there soon. Iâve got you, promise.â The wave of relief that floods your body when you finally spot Mattyâs car pulling to a stop in front of you is near-crippling, and youâd have collapsed when he wraps his arms around you if he wasnât supporting your weight. âOh, baby. Sweet girl, itâs okay. Iâm here now. Iâve got you,â he repeats soothingly, only pulling away when you stop swaying on your feet. âGod, you smell like the floor of a dive bar,â he teases, and you chuckle weakly. âCâmon, angel. Letâs get you in bed, yeah?â
You murmur another apology as you slide into the passenger seat, and he waves it away with a smile. âHey, my house is the left back there,â you say, the cool night air having snapped you back to yourself a little.
âI know,â Matty says quietly. âIâm not sending you back there alone, darling. Promised Iâd take care of you, didnât I?â he says, his hand on your thigh gently calming instead of teasing.
âThank you,â you mumble, looking down at your lap as Matty parks the car in his drive.
âAny time, angel. Iâm serious. Iâm glad you called. Donât ever want you to think I wonât be here if youâre not okay.â And fuck if that sickening, chaotic mess of feelings doesnât just bubble right back up to the surface. He leads you into the kitchen, your body curled into his to steady yourself. âIâll get you something to eat, okay?â
You shake your head. âMm-mm. Youâre already doing too much. And I wonât keep it down, anyway,â you say, pressing a hand to your roiling stomach. âI just need to lie down.â You start to wander into the living room, and Matty grabs your wrist gently.Â
âYou need to eat something, darling. Drink some water, sleep in a bed,â he adds insistently. You let him fuss over you, plying you with a slice of toast and a glass of water, and you tuck yourself into his chest as he carries you up to bed. Dressed in one of his well-worn shirts, his familiar scent fills your lungs, comforting as he tucks himself into bed next to you.
âThank you,â you repeat. âCanât say it enough. Didnât have to do all this, Matty. I wouldâve been okay.â
âDonât want you just okay,â he answers. âWant you feeling good, and safe, and happy. Get some sleep, love, mâhere.â You close your eyes obligingly, but your drunken haze lifting has set your thoughts free, spinning like a coin set on its edge that just wonât fall. Your night plays back in sickening detail behind your lids, the memory of the boyâs hands on you bringing bile up your throat. Laying in Mattyâs bed without having been thoroughly exhausted first always plays with your sanity, your brain wandering to places you know it shouldnât go as he sleeps peacefully next to you.
The sun is coming up by the time you give up on sleep, hoping Mattyâs rhythmic breathing means he wonât hear you trying to sneak away. No such luck, though. âWhere you goinâ, sweetheart?â he asks, and you feel a stab of guilt at interrupting his sleep yet again.
âHome. Iâll get out of your hair, now. Thank you again,â you say quietly.
âBaby. Princess. Come here, come back here,â Matty says, and he looks so sweet and earnest, sleep-soft and smiling, that you obey, and you canât help the happy little sigh that escapes you as he pulls you close.
Shame burns hot through you as you remember the previous night all over again, and you canât stop yourself from blurting out, âA boy asked me on a date last night.â
Mattyâs hand tightens on your hip. âWhat did you say?â he asks, voice low with warning.
You sigh, steeling yourself to look into his eyes. âWhat do you want me to have said? you answer, and he blinks, confusion written across his features. âWhat is this, Matty? Because if this is casual, if you just want a shiny young girl on your arm for a few months, itâs fine by me,â you lie, pushing down the nausea that pools at your words. âBut if this is just fun, we should be allowed to see other people â are you seeing other people?â you ask, tension winding between your shoulder blades as you prepare for the answer.Â
âNo,â Matty practically growls. âAnd Iâm not fucking anyone else, either, before you ask. I havenât in weeks.â He huffs a laugh. âI tried, the day I met you, tried to get you out of my head âcause I didnât think Iâd get to have you.â His thumb rubs gentle circles into your hip, his touch comforting as his words soak in, a soothing balm to your nerves. âDidnât fucking work. Couldnât stop picturing you instead,â he confesses. âYouâre in my head, princess. Mâsorry I let my little strop go on so long. Thinkinâ about some other man touching you was driving me crazy. I was beinâ selfish. If you want to see other people, Iââ
âI donât,â you interrupt. âOnly want you.â
He breaks out in a wide grin. âPictured this being a bit more romantic, but,â Matty pinches your hip gently, and you giggle, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. âYouâre my girl, yeah? Properly mine.â
âYeah,â you say, practically glowing as you smile back at him. âAs long as youâre mine.â
He threads a hand into your hair, kisses you like breathing is a choice, licking eagerly into your mouth as you melt against him. âWhat are you gonna say if another boy asks you on a date, princess?â
âI have a boyfriend,â you beam, just using the word making your heart warm. The tangled knot thatâs sat in your belly for weeks now blissfully untied, your body feels loose and happy and willing. âIâm gonna have a shower, okay, then Iâve gotta thank you properly, yeah?â
A filthy smirk pulls at Mattyâs lips. âI like the sound of that.â You giggle, pressing a kiss to his nose before climbing off him.
âYou would,â you tease, padding into the bathroom and running the shower. You luxuriate under the water for several long, glorious minutes, the water pressure melting the last lingering tension between your shoulders. The smell of the club lingers in your hair until you scrub it with Mattyâs expensive shampoo, the smell familiar as you work your fingers over your scalp, lingering like youâll be able to absorb him through your skin. You towel your hair mostly dry, despite your insistence that Matty was committing a cardinal sin by doing the same, and wander back into the bedroom still naked and dripping wet.
Matty chokes on a gasp. âFuck. Hi, gorgeous.â The praise heats your cheeks and you kneel at the foot of his bed, clasping your hands behind your back.
âHi, Daddy,â you say sweetly. âI said Iâd thank you properly. Gonna show you what a good girl I can be. Best girl youâll ever have.â Matty smirks, sitting up to give himself a better view. âCan do whatever you want with me. All day long.â He smirks, dirty and sleazy and delicious, and pats the sheets next to him.
âCâmere, princess. Up you get.â You scramble to obey, sighing happily when he tangles his legs with yours and kisses you slow and deep. His hardness presses against your thigh as you make out, his hands wandering to your ass and squeezing. âGod, so perfect, darling,â he praises. âCanât believe youâre all mine.â
âYours,â you whimper into his mouth, almost deliriously happy. His kiss is almost ferocious, hungry and devouring, desire coiling under your skin. âDaddy, please. Want you so bad,â you murmur.
Matty laughs. âPatience, angel. Thought you were gonna be good?â he says, but itâs light and teasing, without any of the underlying meanness that might have laced his tone a week ago. You relax, tension unspooling in your belly as you put your trust in him. His hands skim over your body, somehow both gentle and working you into a frenzy. A litany of pathetic little whimpers fall from your lips as you squirm under his hands, Matty smirking into the kiss. âSweet, needy baby,â he croons. âMissed havinâ you all sweet for me. Mâsorry I was so mean, princess. Gonna make it up to you, I swear.â His fingers finally find your clit, heat welling between your thighs. It takes a Herculean effort to stay still, not react beyond your involuntary gasp, but the proud little smile on Mattyâs face is worth it. âGood girl. Tell Daddy what you want, angel.â
You nod, swallowed in hazy pleasure as he rubs slow circles over your clit. âWant you to fuck me,â you choke out, your throat closing in overwhelming arousal.
Matty rolls on top of you, connecting your lips in a messy kiss. âOf course, baby. You okay like this? Wanna watch your pretty face while I fuck you.â
âPlease,â you breathe. Matty doesnât tease, just rubs gentle circles over your clit as he enters you, moaning softly into your mouth. Your hips roll, desire pooling under your skin as he fucks you slow and deep.
âGod, missed havinâ you like this,â he breathes, his head falling into your shoulder. âOh, darling, I know, I know. Daddyâs here, Iâve got you, okay?â he murmurs as you whimper softly, languid, bone-deep pleasure rolling over you. Mattyâs eyes are liquid with affection, his lips curving into an unconscious smile.
His lips find yours again, your tongues sliding together as punched-out gasps fall from your lips in time with his smooth, measured thrusts. Itâs immeasurably intense, Matty playing your body like a symphony, and youâre powerless to do anything but whine and writhe. âThank you sâmuch, Daddy. Feels so fucking good,â you whimper, locking your legs around his waist. The change in angle is glorious, ecstasy winding through your bloodstream as Matty rubs circles into your clit.
âGood girl,â Matty murmurs, âSuch a good girl for Daddy. My girl, my fucking girl. Wish I could keep you all sweet and cockdrunk for me all the fuckinâ time. Fuckinâ wish I could have you as my little kept girl, have this pussy at home waitinâ for me every fuckinâ night,â he groans, the familiar fantasy spiralling through your mind. He murmurs soft, sugary words into your ear, liquid desire melting your brain until youâre sure it must be dripping from your ears, soaking the sheets under your hair. âSo, so pretty, darling. Look so gorgeous while Iâm fucking you, god.â
You glow at the praise, heat thrumming under your skin as his hips meet yours over and over. Youâre practically delirious, lost in thick, syrupy pleasure, the lewd sound of skin meeting filling the room. âMmh, oh, my God, fuckââ you gasp, pleasure coiling tight in your belly as you dig your nails into his back. âMâgonna cum, Daddy, oh, my God, need it sâbad. Wanna cum, wanna make you cum, shit. Need to feel it, need you to fill me up, make me yours, God, please!â
âFuck, such a good girl,â Matty gasps, his rhythm faltering as he gets closer. âCan hold on for me, just for a second, yeah? Wanna cum together,â he adds, and you whine, rolling your hips up against him and trembling with the effort of holding your orgasm at bay. He fucks into you with deep, sloppy thrusts, moaning into your mouth and pinching your clit. Garbled moans of fuck and yes and Daddy stumble from your lips, sticky, hot desire dripping from your cunt as you writhe under him. âFuck, princess, you ready?â Matty gasps against your lips.
âYeah, mâready, Daddy, câmon. Cum in me, fill up this slutty little pussy. Mâyours, your good girl, your little cumdump. God, need it sâbad,â you moan, breaking into a whine as Matty spills inside you with a groan. Your orgasm follows a split-second later, moaning against Mattyâs mouth with stardust glittering in your veins. Euphoria scorches under your skin, your head floating clear of your body as pleasure floods you, gasping and moaning. âThank you,â you say dopily, smiling up at him as he pulls out. You widen your legs to watch his cum dripping out of you, pooling obscene and sticky on the mattress.
Matty watches you with a laugh. âLittle cumslut,â he says fondly.
âYour little cumslut,â you smirk, stretching out your sore muscles. âWhen I said anything you want, I meant anything,â you grin. âWant me to be your little kept girl? Cook and clean for you while you look all pretty and important?â
He chuckles. âFirst of all, Iâve seen what you think passes for a meal, princess. Donât know how you havenât poisoned yourself.â You swat his shoulder, laughing. âSecond of all, if you can stand right now, I havenât worked hard enough,â he says, a smirk pulling at his lips.Â
âYouâre lucky I like you cocky,â you tease, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth and testing your weight on your feet as you stand. Matty catches you as you stumble slightly, I told you so written plainly on his face. âDonât,â you warn, before it can leave his mouth.
âYâknow, I think I like the sound of having a little housewife for the day,â he grins, your stomach tying itself in a knot at the word wife from his lips. âCâmon, sweet girl, Iâm sure we can find something for you to occupy yourself with while youâre waitinâ for me to fuck you dumb again, huh?â he teases, your thighs clenching at the words. You bend to reach for your clothes, and he tsks softly. âDidnât say you could get dressed, did I, angel?â
âNo, Daddy. I wonât.â You swallow thickly, following him downstairs, feeling shockingly exposed in the glare of the sunlight pooling from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Mattyâs cum trickles down your thighs as you hover beside him.
âMake us some tea, would you, darling?â he says, casual like youâre not naked and dripping cum on his pristine kitchen floor. âShame you havenât got a little apron, or something. Think Iâd go a bit crazy, seeinâ you in my kitchen dripping wet in nothing but an apron and a smile. Gotta teach you how to cook someday, if you wanna be my kept girl,â he continues, still maddeningly conversational as your cunt pulses wantonly at his words. âTea, darling? Or have I got you too dumb for that without even touching you?â he teases.
Almost mechanically, you fill the kettle and flick it on, dropping a teabag into a mug for him and wrinkling your nose unsubtly. âCan I have a coffee? I donât do tea.â
Matty laughs. âCourse, princess. Want you to make yourself at home. Coffeeâs just down there.â He points to a cupboard near your feet, stroking over the curve of your ass as you bend over. You donât realise his game until you scan the contents of the cupboard and find nothing but pots and pans, and his fingers are tracing your messy, sensitive cunt. âOops, did I say down?â he deadpans, reaching above your head to open another cupboard. âI meant up.â
âPerv,â you tease, retrieving the tin of coffee as the kettle whistles.
âCanât help it,â he murmurs, dipping his head to kiss softly at your neck and jaw. âToo fucking gorgeous. Canât believe youâre all mine.â
You giggle, breaking his hold to pour your drinks. âCanât believe it took us this long. Weâre idiots, kind of.â
âA bit,â he chuckles, accepting his tea and taking a sip. âSo, what did you say? To that boy?â he asks, and you roll your eyes.
âNo, obviously. Felt so guilty taking his number. Deleted it in the car,â you admit, staring into your coffee to avoid his gaze.
âGood girl,â he praises. âKnew nobody could fuck you like me, right? Nobody could treat you as good?â
You flush, setting your drink down and hopping up onto the counter, crossing your legs behind his back as he crowds into your space. âNo, Daddy. Only you, I promise.â
Matty cups your jaw. âThatâs right, princess. All mine. And Iâm yours,â he says, cupping your jaw and connecting your lips in a searing kiss, drinking in the taste of you as you pour your emotions into his mouth. âSo perfect, such a perfect girl for me,â he says, sucking a bruise into your skin and working his way down. He presses kisses over your tits, one hand coming up to play with a peaked bud as he wraps his lips around the other. You whine, arching your back and pushing against his attentions, a low buzz of pleasure growing in the back of your skull. âLove these tits so much, baby. So fucking perfect,â he murmurs against your skin, pressing a kiss in the valley of your breasts and tracing his fingers down, your muscles tensing at his touch. Desire whirls in your stomach, your head light and skin loose on your bones. He drops to his knees on the cool tile floor, kissing your knees as he spreads your legs wider, eyes blowing impossibly wider at the sight of your dripping cunt. âGod, made such a mess of you, huh, princess? Want Daddy to get you cleaned up?â
âPlease,â you gasp, threading a hand in his curls as he kisses the tender skin of your inner thigh. âDaddy, please. Want your mouth,â you whimper, moaning when his lips meet your slick skin. The pressure between your thighs is instant and familiar, mounting as Matty laps at your folds. He pulls off to bite at your thighs, scraping over his own fading bruises, faint pain tangling with pleasure under your overheated skin. His tongue is hungry as it fucks into you, his moans vibrating gloriously through you as you cling to the counter for dear life.
Your hips grind against his face, euphoria spiralling through you, stoking the fire low in your belly. âThatâs it, princess. Gonna help Daddy get you off? My pretty little cockdrunk slut, need it all the time, right?â he murmurs, rubbing circles into your clit as he buries his tongue back into you. You canât fucking think, everything in your brain drowned out by lips, tongue, teeth, Matty.
âFuck, yes, Daddy, feels sâfucking good,â you whine, burying your hand in his curls and dragging him even closer, his tongue impossibly deep inside you as you clench around the muscle. Heat unspools in your belly, licking under your skin and setting your blood on fire, your hips rocking unbidden against his mouth. You cry out as Matty wraps his lips around your clit, pleasure-pain screaming from your still-sensitive nerves, all his attention focused on your swollen bud. âOh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God,â you gasp, pulse jackhammering between your thighs, so fast youâre scared itâll set off dynamite in your chest.
âYeah?â Matty smirks up at you, his lips and chin soaked in your arousal. Youâre close, embarrassingly so, his tongue sloppy and greedy as he devours your cunt. His quiet moans into your cunt are intensely gratifying, amplifying the ecstasy kicking wildly under your skin. âGod, youâre so pretty fallinâ apart like this. Could live between these pretty thighs, princess.â In response, you tighten them around his head, savouring his little gasp as his tongue returns to your cunt, licking over your hole with fervour. Your eyes roll back in your head, swimming dizzily in ecstasy, your cunt throbbing with need.
Your entire body is tense, muscles clenched and expectant as Matty tongue-fucks you within an inch of your life. âMâso close, Daddy, wanna cum,â you whimper, chasing the pleasure that coils tight around your veins, your vision blurring as euphoria chokes you.
Matty circles his fingers over your clit, his callouses scraping deliciously over your tender skin. âCum for me whenever youâre ready, princess. Wanna feel you fallinâ apart on my tongue. Sweetest fuckinâ girl in the world,â he murmurs, pulling your clit into his mouth and sucking hard, a scream tearing free from your throat. Molten desire pools in your belly, your body humming with energy begging to be released. âCome on, darling, let me hear you. Give me everything youâve got,â he moans, your cunt dripping on his tongue.
âOh, fuck, mâcumming, Daddy, fuck! Oh, God, feels sâgood, fuck, fuck, fuck,â you whimper, pure pleasure breaking you wide open, your vision whiting out as Mattyâs tongue curls deep inside of you. You throb around him, every muscle in your body suddenly jelly, his hands on your thighs the only thing anchoring you to reality. Matty gets to his feet with a smirk, wordlessly prising your jaw open and sliding his wet fingers into your mouth.
You wrap your fingers around his tongue, sucking and licking the taste of you off his skin and moaning softly. âGood girl. You look so fucking gorgeous when you cum, princess.â He catches your lips in a messy kiss, your slick on his tongue as it sweeps your mouth, his hands finding your hips and pulling you close. âYou up for a little day out, angel? Wanna show off my pretty girl, make everyone jealous of me.â
You giggle. âI told you. Anything you want. If you want to bend me over and show the entire fucking world who I belong to, Iâll drop my panties right then and there, promise.â
Mattyâs jaw clenches, nails digging into your hips. âDonât want anyone else seeing you like that, ever,â he growls. âCâmon, princess, go and get dressed. Got a busy day planned,â he grins.
âWhen did you have time to plan a day out?â you scoff, hopping to your feet and heading back up the stairs.
âWanted to take you out and ask you to be my girlfriend, but that part got wrecked. I still wanna spoil you, baby.â He wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss into your hair.
You melt into his touch, leaning into him with a soft, private smile. âYouâre too sweet,â you say, pulling away from him to step into your discarded underwear and jeans, turning to rifle through his drawers. After a few moments, you find what you were looking for, a shirt that must be a remnant of some distant, misspent youth; so small itâs almost your size, and it must have been cropped short on him because it barely brushes the hem of your jeans. âDid you actually wear this?â you laugh, turning this way and that as you admire how surprisingly well the shirt flatters you.
Matty laughs. âTold you, I was in a band in my twenties. Made some questionable fashion choices, but I made it work.â
Your eyes light up. âYou have to show me. Please, I have got to see what you looked like when you fit into this,â you plead, and he scoffs.
âNah. Looks better on you, anyway,â he says, sliding a pair of sunglasses over your eyes and kissing your cheek, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear. âHave you got a jacket? Itâs fucking cold, for June,â he comments, a poor attempt at sounding casual.
Itâs not that cold, and he knows damn well you donât have a jacket. âHmm, nope.â You pop the âpâ obnoxiously. âGuess Iâll have to borrow one of yours,â you say airily, as if that wasnât his obvious fucking game all along. He slides a leather jacket over your shoulders, well-worn and smelling like him, and your reflection stops you dead. You look fucking hot. You look like a rich manâs scandalously young girlfriend, the graceful lines of him slotting perfectly into the picture. You snap a sweet photo of the two of you as he kisses your temple, and you giggle up at him.
âGod, never gonna get over how gorgeous you look wearinâ my clothes, darling,â he murmurs, giving your ass a little smack and hurrying you into the car. His hand is familiar on your thigh as he drives, the warmth of his touch soaking into your skin and fizzing up in your chest. He presses kisses to your cheek at every red light, his gaze adoring every time it lands on you.
You share a lazy, light breakfast, trading kisses over pastries and coffee; yours heaped with cream and sugar and his bitter and black. Matty listens as you explain your friendsâ petty little dramas, nodding or frowning at all the right moments but wise enough not to weigh in. He presses you against the car when you leave, digging one hand into your hair and the other into your waist and kissing the sugary-almond taste out of your mouth. âPretty girl,â he praises, smiling as you flush.Â
âSweet boy,â you murmur, kissing his nose as he pulls back and opens the passenger-side door for you. âSuch a gentleman,â you giggle, sliding into your seat. You fiddle with the radio, turning to him expectantly when the car stays in park. âThought you had the whole day planned out?â
âI do,â he grins. âJust waitinâ for you to tell me where you like to shop, angel.âÂ
You smile, rattling off a list that comes as easily as breathing. âAre you gonna take me shopping?â you giggle as the engine purrs to life. âWonât you get bored?â
âNah,â he shrugs, reversing out of the car park. âIâll be like the male lead in a romcom, carrying all your bags and following you like a lost puppy. Itâll be well funny,â he chuckles, and you canât help but laugh, the image of him laden with shopping heâs paying for and wandering around a boutique looking slightly mystified frankly adorable.
âYouâd make a good movie star. Just about pretty enough.â Matty gives an offended scoff and lights a cigarette, sulkily facing away from you as he takes a drag. An old favourite song crackles through the radio and you sing along, uninhibited and happy and maybe even a little in love.
Matty smiles at you indulgently as you start flipping through clothing racks, running your fingers through the fabric and musing which pieces already in your closet theyâd pair well with. You pull out a pretty little summer dress, white and lacy with pink florals, and hold it up without looking at the price tag. âWhat do you think?â you grin, watching him picture you wearing it with a sleazy smile.
âIf you want it, itâs yours,â he shrugs. âGo wild, princess.â Not one to look a gift horse, you take him at his word, draping the dress over your arm and fluttering off to flip through the skirts. A scandalously short leather mini catches your eye, and you hold it against your hips thoughtfully.
Mattyâs jaw tightens unsubtly. âOh, donât be such a boy,â you tease. âIâll model it for you later,â you add with a grin, and his hands fly to your waist and pull you in.
âPlease donât get me all worked up, sweetheart,â he pleads against your lips. âDonât wanna have to cut this short because I had to bring you home and take what I need from you, do you?â
Your insides melt into liquid and you flush, heat slick under your skin. âTempting,â you smirk. âLater tonight?â
His eyes darken, sparkling with allure. âIâm counting the minutes,â he murmurs against your lips, taking an inappropriately greedy handful of your ass and pressing his lips against yours.
Your knees go weak when Matty licks into your mouth, his tongue hedonistic and clever and sure. You indulge yourself in his kiss for a few moments, his body pressing against yours as he threads a hand into your hair. âMmh, stop trying to distract me,â you say, voice slightly rough with desire. âIâm gonna bleed you dry, darling.â
Matty grins. âDo your worst, angel.â
And you certainly try your fucking hardest, piling his arms high with blouses and dresses and skirts; lipsticks and powders and creams; pumps and heels and sandals. When Matty starts dragging his feet, you take pity on him and pull him into the lingerie section, his jaw going slightly slack as he stares around; he looks vaguely guilty, like heâs been caught somewhere he shouldnât.
You pluck a delicate, white corset off the rack, holding it up musingly. âHow about this? Might be cute with one of those skirts?â Matty swallows thickly, clearly stuck for words that wonât get the pair of you banned from the store and maybe arrested for lewd behaviour.
âI like it.â He clears his throat. âA lot.â
You grin mischievously. âI have an idea, Daddy,â you murmur, the word a delicious taboo as it slips from your lips, scandalously inappropriate on the wide-open shop floor. âShould get yourself some presents, too. Pick some stuff out for me?â
A filthy smirk splits his face, and you shiver, a thrill running up your spine. Matty, it turns out, has extremely discerning tastes, at least when it comes to lingerie. Everything he chooses is carefully considered, holding the lace against your skin to consider the colour, the shape, the cut of the piece and how itâll sit on your body. You end up heaped with a pile of bras and panties, corsets and teddies, babydoll dresses and chemises, slightly dizzy at the thought of dressing up in them for him.
âThink thatâs more than enough to keep us both happy, donât you, princess?â he grins, leading you to the counter. It takes aeons to get you rung up, and you feel a little faint at the sight of the total; itâs more than five thousand pounds. Matty doesnât even look fazed, though, kissing you softly and swiping his card like itâs nothing. Itâs maybe a little embarrassing, but you feel a faint tingle of arousal at him taking such a massive sum in stride.
You drape yourself across him as he loads your bags into the car, pressing grateful kisses anywhere you can reach. âThank you, Daddy. Too good to me. Tell me how I can make it up to you.â
Matty smiles, wide and warm and so fucking sweet you can taste the honey dripping from his mouth. âDonât need to, angel. Just let me spoil you. Like seeinâ you happy after I was such a little bitch before. Mâsorry, sweet girl.â
You laugh as you slide into the car beside him. âIâve accepted worse apologies for worse things from far worse men. I think weâre more than even now.â You run your hand over his thigh, cupping his cock with a smirk. âHow about I put on a little fashion show for you when we get back? Call it even when I canât even remember my own name?â
He grins. âYou are filthy,â he says delightedly, throwing on a burst of speed that pins you against the seat, suddenly desperate to get the pair of you into a bedroom.Â
Mattyâs mouth is ravenous on yours as soon as youâre alone, dropping the bags to grip your waist hungrily and pull you flush against him. âMmh, hold on,â you say, breaking away regretfully. âDonât you wanna see me all dolled up for you, Daddy?â
Groaning, Matty slides his hands down to your waist, spanking you when you bend over to retrieve your bags. A pulse of wanton arousal throbs stickily between your legs, an involuntary moan rumbling from your lips. âPretty little slut,â he mumbles approvingly. âWanna get that pretty ass all red for me, god.â
âYes, Daddy,â you murmur, straightening up and leaning back against him. âAnything you want.â He follows you up the stairs, making himself comfortable on the bed as you slip into the bathroom and change. You primp and preen, experimenting with lip swatches and sparkling eyeshadow, switching out your outfit until youâre satisfied.Â
Matty is waiting on the bed when you slip back into the room. The sight of him, his legs spread wide and clad only in boxers with one hand lazily palming his cock through the fabric, is almost enough to make you abandon your plans. âDâyou like the skirt now, Daddy?â you ask, pulling the waistband down to reveal the scrap of deep-red satin clinging to your waist.
âMmm, I donât know if Iâm quite convinced yet, princess,â he teases. âThink you should show me what it looks like off.â
A heavy pulse of want wells between your thighs, and you grin. âLet me put on a little show for you, first.â You cue up a carefully-curated playlist, swaying your hips in time with the beat and slowly peeling off your shirt. Mattyâs breath catches at the sight of you, groaning low in his throat, the sound going straight to your cunt.
Turning and bending over right on cue, you shake your ass, flashing your panties under the skirt; Matty moans outright. âSo gorgeous, princess. Gettinâ me so fucking hard, god,â he groans, and as you turn to face him, youâre treated to the sight of him freeing his cock, slowly pumping it and watching you intently. Your skirt slides to the floor as Matty fucks into his fist, delicious, gasping little moans tumbling from his lips. âFuck, câmere, please,â he pleads, gaze fixed on you as you stalk to the edge of the bed.
âWanna sample the merchandise, huh?â you tease, straddling his lap and grinding down on his cock. Mattyâs hands come up to your tits, palming and squeezing greedily as your head falls forward to meet his lips. You let him grope you for a few long, delicious minutes, his hands finding your hips, your waist, your ass and digging in. Then, you hop off his lap, and Matty whines. âIâve still got more stuff to try on,â you grin, slipping away and changing into a sheer-white babydoll with a matching thong.
Matty chokes on air at the sight of you, and you smile angelically, kneeling at the foot of the bed. âGod, gonna drive me crazy, darling. Need to fuck you so bad,â he groans, his cock flushed red and dripping as it disappears into his fist.
You giggle. âMâglad you picked this one, Daddy. Dâyou wanna know what I thought when I saw it?â He nods, dazed and practically drooling. âI thought, âThatâs what I wanna wear around the house when Iâm beinâ a good little housewife for my Daddy,ââ you murmur, and Matty has a physical reaction, shuddering as his eyes go wide, the fantasy playing clear as day on his face.
âFuck, princess,â he groans. âAngel. Darling. Sweet girl. Come here. Let me fuck you, please,â he begs, hips shifting needily as he pumps his cock.
Draping yourself over his lap, you smile blithely up at him. âYou promised to spank me, Daddy,â you pout, and Matty gives a filthy smirk, tracing his fingers over your panties as you shudder and squirm.
âSuch a filthy little slut, god,â he murmurs. âThis sweet little ass is gonna look so pretty covered in my handprints, baby. Gonna remind you who you belong to every time you sit down, yeah?â
Arousal swirls through your body, wanton need dripping from your neglected cunt. âBelong to you, Daddy. Your girlâ ah!â you gasp as Mattyâs hand comes down, meeting your ass harshly. A long, low moan pulls from your throat, sweet pain tangling with the burning need under your skin. âYes, Daddy, fuck. Please, more,â you whimper, face pressed against the sheets as you sink deeper into glorious submission. Three more smacks come in quick succession, the flesh of your ass flaming under his touch.
Matty kneads your tender skin gently, soothing before he delivers another hit, the pain washing over you and coiling into thick, palpable pleasure under your skin. âLove this pretty ass so much, princess,â he praises.
âWant you to fuck me there, one day,â you say dreamily, so lost in desire-slick fantasies that you donât even process the admission as it falls from your lips. âWanna be yours. Every single hole,â you murmur, eyes lidded and voice rough with lust. Matty freezes, and you tense. God, was that a weird thing to say? Too early to admit it? Is he gonna think youâre actually a slut now?
A moan of pure, unfiltered lust falls from his mouth and your thighs clench, the fabric of your panties soaked and sticky between your thighs. âFuck, you canât say things like that, princess. Gonna make me fuckinâ cum before Iâve even fucked you,â he murmurs, voice low and raked over gravel, thick with lust. His fingers tease over your clit through your panties, and you arch up into his touch, whimpering.
âThen fuck me,â you plead. âPlease, Daddy. Want you.â Matty grins, manhandling you until youâre laying on your front, pleasure tense in your belly as he slides your panties to the side.Â
Your cunt clenches around nothing, gasping and pleading softly as the sheets dig into your cheek. âThis okay, angel? Wanna watch the bruises come up on your pretty little ass.â
Lifting your hips, you shake your ass at him, a smirk pulling at your lips. âGonna think about fucking it, Daddy?â He groans, the sound going straight to your core, slick cunt dripping as you press against him. âSâokay if you do. I have been. When Iâm alone, when I want you, fucking myself on my fingers and thinkinâ about you stretching me out there. Would feel so fuckingâ Ohh,â you break into a moan as Matty enters you with no warning, meeting no resistance from your soaked cunt.
âSo fucking wet for me, princess. So fucking filthy, playing with that needy cunt and thinkinâ about me fucking your ass, god,â he groans, dipping his head to kiss between your shoulder blades. A shudder runs through you, the stretch and burn between your thighs familiar, the ache soothing.
Your cunt throbs, thick pulses of arousal hammering in time with your racing heart. âHarder, Daddy, please,â you whine, arching your back. Dizzying lust envelops you, your head hazy and light, practically floating clear of your body. A shocked moan escapes you as Matty spanks you again, pain sinking into pleasure that coils tightly through your insides.Â
âDonât be greedy, darling,â he chides. âCâmon, lift your hips a little for Daddy, okay?â Unthinkingly, you obey, letting him puppeteer you, mould you into whatever shape he likes. âGood girl,â he murmurs, sliding a pillow under your hips. You glow at the praise, nails scraping the sheets when he fucks deep into you, the change in angle sending waves of pleasure spilling over you.
âNgh, Daddy, fuck,â you whimper, your words coming out garbled where your face presses into the sheets. Incoherent moans of please and fuck and I need and Daddy stumble from your lips, your body melting into a pleasure-soaked haze as Matty fucks deep into you.
Your hips meet obscenely, lewd sounds filling the room as your world narrows down to the four walls, aware of nothing but him. âThatâs it, princess. Let it all out, let Daddy hear those pretty noises, yeah? Nobody else gets to hear you like this, right?â he coos, pinching your clit and moaning softly as your cunt clenches around him reflexively.
âN-no,â you promise shakily, struggling to pull the words to the forefront of your mind, delirious with pleasure. âOnly you, Daddy. Only one who can fuck me like this. So fucking good.â You choke on a gasp, Mattyâs hips meeting yours over and over, your vision swimming, your body set adrift in an ocean of sheer ecstasy.Â
âSuch a sweet girl,â Matty murmurs, teasing your clit as you whine powerlessly. Seemingly just for the fun of it, he slaps your ass again, the sweet sting tearing you open. Pleasure rushes through you, cradling your very organs, stoking a fire that chars your bones. âGod, I love your pretty ass, darling. Canât wait to fuck this tight little hole.â His words sink into your skin, wrapping tight around your sore muscles, ecstasy coiling in your veins. With what feels like a monumental effort, you rock your hips up towards him, Matty impossibly deep inside you.
The tip of his cock brushes that perfect spot inside you, sending a bright jolt of pure euphoria fizzing up your spine. A keening wail falls from your lips, a loud, uninhibited sound of undiluted pleasure. âGettinâ close, angel? Wanna cum for your Daddy?â You nod wildly, indistinct, stifled pleas tumbling from your lips like prayers. âGo on, princess, cum for me. Cum all over my fuckinâ cock, make me cum.â In that same obedient, thoughtless way, you do. You choke and whimper and whine, drool pooling in your mouth and dripping out against the sheets as you moan the only word you know: Daddy. Euphoria burns white-hot under your skin, melting your organs until your body is made of liquid desire, messily strung together by flimsy ligaments. Mattyâs touch is the only thing anchoring you to reality, your head still hazy as you drift back to Earth.
Mattyâs pace is erratic, frenzied and wild and hot as your cunt pulses with aftershocks. âCum on me,â you beg. âOn my cunt, on my tits, on my face, I don't care. Just wanna see it, wanna feel it, want you to mark me, make me yours,â you plead, and Matty groans. He gives your ass one more swift smack for good measure and flips you over, your bruised skin screaming in protest as it presses into the sheets. Three quick passes of his fist over his cock and heâs cumming, white ropes splashing across your belly and up to your tits, painting your skin in a filthy, lurid display. âThank you, Daddy,â you murmur as he breathes heavily above you. âLove beinâ your little cumdump.â
His head tips back, a disbelieving laugh bubbling free. âSuch a good, sweet, pretty girl with such a filthy mouth, princess. So fuckinâ hot.â You smile proudly, dragging your fingers through his mess and sucking the taste of him off them. Mattyâs eyes go wide, his head falling to lap at the skin between your tits, kissing and sucking ravenously at them. He makes his way up and presses his lips to yours, the taste of him smearing between your mouths, the kiss a filthy thing, alive with desire. âYouâre beautiful,â he mumbles, hushed like he isnât even aware of the words, and you flush.
âSo are you,â you smile as he falls next to you, gazing adoringly into your eyes as your chests heave.
âWe should get cleaned up,â he says with a weak chuckle, and you mumble an affirmative without even pretending to move. âJust a minute, princess, then Iâll get you cleaned up, cook us some dinner, yeah?â he promises, kissing you gently as your eyes flutter closed. Of course, the pair of you wake an hour or so later, dried cum on your belly and crusting into your brand-new lingerie, your thighs uncomfortably wet and sticking. Matty carries you into the bath, takes gentle care of you, the promised meal waiting when you pull yourself out of the now-lukewarm water. Pillar candles glow atop the dining table, the light sparkling off your wine glasses, and your heart melts.
It doesnât take long for you to fall deeply, irrevocably in love with him; every passing day reveals something new to adore. The words spring to your lips at any and all moments, both opportune and not, and it starts to become a real struggle to swallow them back down. You donât want to be too much, too soon, and truthfully youâre scared of what his answer will be, and even more so of how youâll react.
Your private-not-secret relationship is your so-called friendsâ favourite topic of discussion, so much so that youâre afraid itâll get back to your parents before youâre ready for them to know. You try to keep them happy with minor tidbits, throw them off with misdirections (yes, heâs older; no, I wonât tell you by how much; no, my parents donât know him), but their endless reserves of intrusion are starting to wear you down. Thea is your only confidante, the only one besides Matty himself who knows the ins and outs, and youâre fucking dying for someone new to brag and gush to. So when Matty texts you one day in mid-August, asking if you want to meet his friends, you jump at the chance.
My friends are absolutely desperate to meet you, by the way
Insist they have to meet this girl I wonât shut up about
Iâve been told to tell you Emerald Hill at 10pm on Saturday, and not to take no for an answer
If that tells you what kind of a bunch they are, fair warning
iâd love to :)
come pick me up at 8? then weâll have time to get presentable before we have to go ;)
By the time Saturday rolls around, youâre practically fizzing with excitement, much to your parentsâ suspicion â theyâve been sceptical all summer of how happy youâve been, curious glances and pursed lips every time you so much as smile at your phone. The excitement has turned to nerves as youâre leaving Mattyâs, though, roiling in your gut as you obsess over every detail that could go wrong. Matty wraps comforting arms around your waist from behind, kissing the top of your head and holding you close, the thump of his heartbeat at your back soothing. âStop worryinâ so much, love. Sâgonna be fine, okay?â He gives a boyish little grin as he opens the car for you. âCanât wait for you to meet my boys. All my favourite people in one place,â he says, and you smile softly, that warm, fizzing affection you donât want to give a name to creeping up your chest.
Matty lets you choose the music as you drive, shaking his head every time you queue up another glitter-gel-pen pop song. He takes your hand and leads you into the bar, a classy little place tucked into a street corner, his eyes lighting up as he catches sight of whoever youâre here to meet, swallowed into a bear hug by a tall blond when he reaches the table.
âAh, mate, itâs been too long,â the other man says, pulling back and offering you a hand. âGeorge.â
You look up into his face and your jaw drops. The hot DJ from that fateful night at 102 grins down at you, and your eyes widen as you try to take back your composure. Swallowing your tongue, you smile and give your name, taking a seat as Matty pulls a chair out for you. Just as youâre getting over that shock, you lock eyes with Charli and she smirks back at you.
âSunshine Baby!â she exclaims. âFancy seeing you here.â
You laugh, the tension in your shoulders loosening at the merest semblance of familiarity. âHow do you remember that?â you laugh disbelievingly.
âWait, you two know each other?â Matty interrupts.
Charli shrugs. âSort of. Sunshine over here racked up a three hundred quid tab and tipped me a hundred on top. Donât forget that in a hurry.â
You cover your face in embarrassment. âThat makes me sound like an alcoholic,â you groan. âYour fault, by the way.â You poke Mattyâs shoulder affectionately. âI was mad at you, practically fucking bought out the bar about it. Entire place got a free drink off me.â
âI like her,â another member of the group chimes in with a laugh. You look up to meet the eyes of the speaker, andâ Jesus. One group of friends shouldnât be allowed to have this many hot people in it. âRoss,â he says, and you smile politely. The last member of the party introduces himself as Adam, and you greet him with a smile, letting yourself get absorbed into rapid conversation and raucous laughter. âRight,â Ross interrupts. âMatty â youâre picking up the tab,â he declares. âOh, donât make that face,â he says as Matty scoffs. âAmount you drink, Iâm not paying it on a teacherâs salary.â
You giggle. âAw, give him a break. These days, Iâm spending his money faster than he can make it,â you joke, and Charli cackles. Youâre pleasantly tipsy, the alcohol loosening your lips and lifting the weight of anxiety in your chest, conversation flowing between you as easily as the wine in your glass. You cling to Matty as you leave, waving cheerful goodbyes and promising to text Charli to arrange a girlsâ night.
âIâm gonna regret introducing you two, arenât I?â Matty sighs, pulling you in close against the unseasonably cold wind, the warmth of his body soothing.
âNo,â you giggle. âI love her. Wish I had friends like yours,â you say, wistful and slightly self-pitying as you slide into the car.
Matty cups your cheek, leaning in across the console to press a tender, loving kiss against your lips. âIâm sorry, baby. But you have me. Always gonna have me, yeah?â
Your heart flutters, those three little words rising in your throat once again. âI guess youâre a pretty good consolation prize,â you tease, pushing down the frightening intimacy of the moment with levity.
âAlright, alright,â he chuckles. âWanna come back with me? Or do you want me to drop you home?â
You scoff. âIs that even a question?â
The rest of your summer passes quickly, too quickly. You spend more time at Mattyâs house than home, more and more of your things finding their place there as time passes. You start going to visit him at work without any other justification, every step nerve-wracking as your fatherâs presence looms. You have one unbelievably close call when heâs in the lobby as youâre leaving, frantically slamming the door close button in the lift before he can turn and spot you. Ruby stays just as hostile, seething at you and muttering warnings that Mattyâll be bored soon every time you pass her by. You take a petty, savage pleasure in tormenting her, just a little, deliberately pulling Matty in for long, filthy kisses as you open his office door.
By the time you canât put off going back to uni any longer, thereâs barely any point in you being home at all. Naturally, Matty offers to be the one to drive you up, and you seize the opportunity to be alone with him for the last time in however fucking long. Your father is privately relieved not to be the one to have to, you can tell, accepting your explanation that Theaâs just passed her test and sheâs offered to drive me. You donât mind, do you? without question. Shows how much he knows; Theaâs failed her practical six times and counting.
When you arrive, Matty insists that you donât lift a finger, carrying all of your boxes upstairs and giving you something to ogle in the process. Youâre the last one back, your housemates smirking at you and nudging each other at the sight of him, fourteen years your senior with grey in his hair, kissing you filthy and unashamed in plain view. Later, you mouth behind his back, their answering giggles reminding you that you do have good friends, after all.
Matty looks devastatingly gorgeous in the late-autumn sunset, leaning against his car with a cigarette dangling from his lips. You snatch it with a smirk, stretching up to peck his lips and taking a deep drag. His smile melts you into goo, your heart hammering so fast it might smash free of your ribcage. If you donât say it now, youâll lose your nerve.
âI love you,â you rush out, muffled against his chest as he holds you, arms cradling your body tight and warm and safe. âYou donât have to say it back, I just⊠I do, and I want you to know.âÂ
Matty pulls back to look at you, eyes soft with affection and adoration and maybe even something deeper. âDo you know how long Iâve been waitinâ to hear you say that, princess? God, I love you. I love you so fuckinâ much,â he groans, his hands at your waist the only thing keeping you upright as your knees go weak. âThink I might die, havinâ to be without you these next few weeks.â
You giggle, giddy with infatuation and devotion and⊠God, you can just say love, now. âIâll be back soon, donât worry. Could never stay away from you.â
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A Day at quadrant: LN4 (Part 2)
Author note: I donât even know how to post anything on this and never wrote a fic but I hope this is good but I think itâs pretty shit and I havenât finished it yet and if any writers want to use this idea you can for sure just @ me please oh and if you have feedback please let me know thanks xx
Also i tried to change my like writing style thing cause i feel like it was shit last time but yeah idk
Lando x quadrant fem reader
Blurb: reader is a member of quadrant, she games most of the time but also likes f1 along with her best friend Ria bish. She is friends with all members at quadrant and finds it a good laugh with all her mates, but maybe her view of someone in particular is more than a mate..
Warnings: sexualising, swearing, mention of a gun, leaked tape, sad distraught reader, friends to maybe lovers if I make it a series? Smut-ish? If I missed any let me know (I donât know how to do warnings sorry x)
Well wasn't last week a fucking eventful week. You still cant stop thinking about Lando right next to you comforting you about what happened. You're starting to feel better about the whole issue and get some support from people online and all the other members of quadrant, but fuck that was just shit. You haven't been in any quadrant videos since, but you're in a better place now and probably need to start participating in them more.
Lando and ethan make the idea of quadrant meeting up at landos apartment and trying to train like him for a day. You aren't exactly looking foward to it but oh well, at least Ria is going. You text your gc back and tell them that you will do it too. Then, you get a message.
Lando: are you 100% sure ur okay to come back and film already? you dont have to if you dont want to.
Y/n: yep. I need to get in more videos and im feeling better anyways, thanks for asking.
Lando: all good
Well that was polite and unexpected of Lando to reach out, but whats more unexpected is for your panties to be soaked right now over 2 text messages. well fuck, oopsies.
That night all you can think of is Lando, it's a bit embarrassing to admit, but he was circling around your head like it was an f1 race. You decide to get your head out of it and call Ria to come over and have a chat, since she is your best friend after all. Shortly she pulls up to your apartment in Monaco, funning in bursting of excitement to see you.
"RIAAAAAAA!" you shout when you open the door for her. "Y/NNNN" she replied back. You give her a hug and make her a cup of coffee just how she likes it. You guys sit and chat about the f1 grand prix in Bahrain coming up, and how you hope Lando continues to have a good season with Oscar this year. "Did you see the chat about the new yt vid we doing" You ask Ria. "omg yes and they are bringing angry ginge in I heard" Ria replies back.
"STOP IT" you yell back laughing. You love ginge and his videos, who wouldn't? he's a very very funny bloke. "OMG i''m definitely coming tomorrow then to the recording are you kidding?".
Unfortunately time goes by when you're having fun, and Ria was the most fun, so she had to go a few hours later which felt like minutes. Besides you both need sleep for the youtube vid you're filming tmr at Lando's. You go to bed and try to sleep as much as you can, which didnt happen lol.
rise and shine love. It's already 6am and time to go to Lando's place to film. Normally you don't have to wakeup early as fuck but for the purpose of the video and "being Lando Norris" you had no choice. You get to his apartment after parking at the front and knock on the door, to which he opens. "hi y/n" he says nicely and gives you a hug. "So good to see you Lando, where is everyone?".
"first here mate" he says almost excitedly. "so what are we actually doing today like playing video games or some shit" you say. "haha your funny mate, we are lifting weights, eating what i eat, using the sim, and neck strengthening" he says laughing at you. "fuck r u taking the piss" you say laughing. "oh my days Landoooo do I look like an f1 driver" you also reply with. "well yeah thats the whole point of the video ya dumb fuck" he replied jokingly.
"hahaha get fucked lando nowins" you snap back. he laughs as you proceed to miss the chair you went to lean on making you flinch and stumble looking like an idiot. he is still laughing which makes you laugh too. "Lando norizz" u reply. "haha you think I have no rizz, funny" he replies egotistically. "yeah i do actually" you don't at all, in fact he hasn't even tried yet he has rizzed you up. "wanna bet?" he snaps out.
you don't have time to think before he pins you against the wall and just looks at you with those hot eyes of his. you can already feel your cheeks burning and your thong getting wet. "you say I have no rizz yet your cheeks are burning, and I bet those panties are more soaked than that porridge you tipped over the counter when you stumbled at my gaze, huh?" he grunts out.
what the fuck just happened, first how did he know and secondly did he just pin you against the wall. not the first time you want that to happen. you know what fuck it if we wants to be like that then he may as well be uncomfortable the whole video.
"how did you know about my tight, black lacy thong i'm wearing over my tight pussy hey? not your first time thinking about it aye?" you tease him, but whole walking over to him you see him looking uneasy.
why? because ginge was at the fucking door and heard that, and can see Lando's boner from a mile away. "well bonjour" ginge says laughing. "bonjour mate" lando says as he daps up ginge covering his boner and trying to ignore what just happened.
You already know this video is gonna be the longest set of your life..
sorry its a short one x
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Explaining your First Love to the Yandere's
A/N: "The Yandere's", meaning as many yandere's i think I can characterize as yandere's as perfectly as possible without burning myself out. Also, are the pictures too much?????? Also, I couldn't find a good pic for Sugu without picking the one where he's literally going insane LMAOOO. Love how my semi-debut for my yandere characterization for him is shown w a not so pleasant picture of him(they're all perfect). Anyways, this is probably gonna be my most chaotic, yet organized, post about jjk ever. I have a solid plan and will go through with it. It's friday and this is me "letting loose" before the weekend. Also, the first love story will be pulled from my own experience. With multiple twists to it to make it sound as interesting as possible.
SCENARIO:
"Mmmm. I remember my first love." You hum in a pleasant tone as you start to reminisce events of who you first gave your heart to. "I loved him so much, it was insane. Because....we grew up with each other. We used to be like this." You twist your fingers together, smiling at him as you explain. "He was an embodiment of me, as I was of him. I don't remember a time we weren't friends. I think it helps to mention that our mom's were friends and they were neighbors. So....we've always known each other. He's a year older than me."
You two were out in the park on the grass. He suggested a little picnic together, hoping to bring you two closer so he could possibly make more moves to be more than a friend. But you were so oblivious to it, even going as far as talking of your first love as if you still missed this stupid asshole.
"I still miss him." You go silent for a few seconds and stare down at the checkered blanket, smiling. He gapes a little and resists the urge to scoff. "We both loved playing video games, we watched the same tv shows, went to the same elementary school....a lot of things happened between us. He didn't like me back, though. I confessed to him when I was 9 and he said no." You laugh. "But even then, I still loved him. I still feel it, too. For some reason, my love for others doesn't really go away. Just sits at the bottom of my heart to make more room for others."
You sigh and continue talking about the guy. "He just grew more and more....attractive as I grew up. I am pretty sure he's why I have my type that I have in men currently. He's very tall....a deep voice." You sigh, closing your eyes to remember. "Relaxed, closed off.....I heard him on the phone when our moms were talking a month ago. He sounds....so different. I don't even know what I'd do with myself if I saw him again." In real time, he watched you unravel slowly to show how.....inf*tuated you were with this guy. You were so focused on naming his qualities. As if you could picture him perfectly in your mind.
"I'm so glad we don't talk to each other anymore. I ruined our relationship. Said a few inappropriate things I shouldn't have said at the wrong time. I haven't spoken to him in....6 years. And I'd rather it stay that way, honestly. Because he's a rather boring person outside of his physical attributes. But I have attachment issues." You pick up one of the snacks laid out between the two of you. "Yeah. I'm done talking about him. I would rather not think of him anymore."
YANDERE REACTIONS:
Sukuna:
Sukuna was baffled. Anger, frustration, fear, and even jealousy kept his tongue from moving. He thought this moment wouldn't ever happen in his life. He thought this wasn't a possibility. Your extreme disloyalty to him was what made him clench his hands in anger. But if he rationally thought about this, you don't know. You don't know how much he loves you. How much the Ryomen Sukuna loves you. You were supposed to be his in all lifetimes. He felt like he absolutely knew you were pure. You smelled pure and your energy felt pure when he first met you. So why were you fixing your mouth to say such disgusting and unfaithful words to him as if he wasn't right there?
He wanted to ask you if you've been trying to give yourself to him like a whore, but he knew that was just him overreacting. He wouldn't ever say such things to you, anyways. He wanted to change for you and was trying, starting with these stupid little date settings he knew you loved. A fucking park. And here he was being stabbed in the chest multiple times without your knowledge of it. It was all your doing.
He might be human in this lifetime. He might be nothing but a mere human for you to toy with freely, and he would let you do it to him. But he would never allow a puny roach get in the way of getting what he deserves. He deserves you and he will have you, one way or another. And if that means cutting a small piece of your heart out just to keep the rest, then so be it. He can't have any piece of you in him. Just thinking about him makes another vessel pop in his body somewhere. He will kill this thing.
Kento:
Maybe he was overbearing. He really just couldn't help but feel insecure. There should be no real reason for you to bring up a man from the past. Someone that should clearly be out of your mind. Was he boring? What did that fool have that he didn't? And why did you mention it while you two were on this date??(It wasn't a date, but it felt like it to him) Maybe he was too plain. Men like him were just smokers and loners, of course you'd bring up someone else that can satiate your desire for real love. It's all because he couldn't. Not in the way you want to be loved.
But he knew, he knew that he was enough. He knew he was your type as well, so, what did you mean by he was the type you have in men?? What does that mean for him? Will you use him and throw him away? He doesn't want to be used and tossed out like trash. He wanted to be yours forever. He wanted to be your man. Your man. He wanted to be your lover, your obsesser and the one you obsess over, not that imbecile. He wanted to be skin to skin, he wanted to be under your skin, he wanted to make his mark on you and for you to do the same to him. He deserves your love. But here you are expressing it for another man you haven't even spoken to in over 6 years. He deserves that type of commitment, there's nothing he's done to deserve it this late.
"I love you." The words slip out like oil on water. And it makes his heart oh, so much lighter.
Suguru:
"Heavens. I'm glad you aren't talking with him now." Suguru chuckles and shakes his head, peeling off more strawberry leaves for you. "This is why." He points with the strawberry at the people walking past and then gives you the strawberry. "This is why I don't want you talking with them. They do this to hold you in their clutches, I've seen it." Suguru sighs as he recalls your story in his mind. Jesus, was it trying to hypnotize you? If so, it was working. No worries, it won't be around to mess with your mind much longer.
"They actively lie, they laze around, let their emotions control them, and then try to manipulate you to stay with them to be their stepping stool." He brushes your hair back neatly, and you scrunch your eyebrows at his words. "But I know you're better than him. Better than all of them." He calls out your name and stares into your eyes with a look that makes you flustered. What is his problem?
"You are the light. You are one of the most strongest and intelligent sorcerers I have seen of this time. You hold up your potential and continue to blow my mind with how beautiful your soul is. I am constantly drawn to you and your energy, I never get enough of it. I don't ever want to hinder you and I don't want anyone else to hinder your energy. That's why I will kill that filthy animal that tried to touch you." It's scary, the way he maintains eye contact with you and spits the nastiest insult about the man you once loved with your whole heart.
"I can't wait to get to know you better. You've been teaching me so much. Maybe you can tell me about your favorite nature spots and we can relax there whenever you're free. And sometime later, I could also take you to meet my family. You'll love my two daughters." He laughs lightly, knowing Nanako and Mimiko would adore finally having a real mother worth of raising them. Together, you and him would be unstoppable.
Choso:
Choso was finished with peeling the mandarin for you. You kind of were confused about how he went about doing this, though. Because all over his lap were the smallest bits of mandarin peels you've ever seen. But the mandarin looked perfect. He obviously took his time. He handed it to you softly, smiling. You accept it happily and begin peeling.
He was surprised he didn't rip the thing apart then and there. Maybe be should peel things more often. The way you so freely spoke about your love for another man when your soulmate was sitting right next to you, peeling fruit open for you was preposterous. He needed a hug. A lemonade, had to kill someone, something. But he stopped killing people for you(secretly), so he has to resort to acting like he's peeling off that devil's skin. Starting from where the shiny skin first shows. The first piece is always the hardest to pick off and it's hard to choose where to begin. But soon enough, the color underneath began to show. He slowly picked off every. Little. Piece. He heard a yelp of pain and cries of "sorry's" in his head for every piece.
Every single little piece made the air smell more and more sweet and tangy. The more you spoke, the faster he picked. The stronger the smell was. So citrus-y and delicious. It made him smile. He loved peeling this mandarin. Then picking off white strips connected to the mandarin itself, so that it was smoother and you had no access peel. Like veins, they came off one by one. He simply stared at it when he was done. Smooth, perfect. Scattered remains laying everywhere on his lap.
He's never felt this way before. What were you doing to him? What is this twisting feeling in his gut that makes him want to puke? Why can't he breathe? Why does he want to kill the kids and mothers at the playground not too far away? He needs you to calm him down.
He hates this park.
"Here you go, angel." He hands it to you, smiling. You looked a little confused at first, but then took it from him, opening it to take a slice. "Oh, this looks real nice, Cho. ......Why are you smiling like that?" He shrugs, picking up one of the strawberries you brought from your place. "Like what...?"
Toji:
Toji was silent. The awkward silence he was creating between the two of you made you nervous. He was sitting close to you, leaning over to you, his arm supporting his weight behind your back with your shoulder touching his chest. He was just staring down at the bowl of strawberries. ".....Toji?" Your soft voice made him sigh.
No, he couldn't do it. Killing you won't kill the pain and anger in his chest. This was probably the angriest he's ever been. He wanted to shout at you to apologize for how you were making him feel. But what he really wanted was to feel your lips on his and for you to shut the fuck up. For some reason, every time you open your mouth, it always ends with him degrading further and further off the side of sanity and just going completely ballistic.
You saw his hand on his hip. The hip that wasn't actually his hip, but was his gun he was resting his hand on. He would feel so much better if those shrieking rats would shut up. Fucking rodents running around you two freely like he wasn't about to ruin everyone's day.
He wouldn't say he was often traumatized, but he could've went his whole life without hearing that story. Now he has to find a random man and kill him for stealing your heart. I mean, the least the bastard could've done was reciprocate his feelings and not leave you feeling helpless. "I could treat you better than that dick." You flinch at his words before smiling, averting your gaze as well. "Oh....." He leans in closer to your face. "Where does he live, huh? Is it the prick with the glasses?" "No?" "The one you work with?" "I-I told you I haven't-" "Eh, whatever. I'll find him and kill him." He smiles at your bashfulness and grabs a few strawberries from the patch.
Sometimes he forgets you don't care much for how he says things. If the right message gets across, you usually don't mind how he says it. But he just blatantly threatened to kill him. You grab the leafless strawberries from his hands and begin eating. Nah. You were his, for sure. He sighs and lays down on the blanket, staring up at the blue sky.
Satoru:
Satoru nodded along with your words, his hands trembling. When you smiled, he did. When you sighed, he would, too. And when you finished your story, he had to swallow the thick bile in his throat. You were just....recalling old memories, that's all. Nothing else. He tried to focus on the grass blades he felt through the blanket. He tried to focus on the sounds of the kids running around squealing.
He watched you eat some of the cold grapes he brought you. They were big, and you praised him lightly for finding such a great batch. He nods quietly and stares down at his lap. Everything was fine. You were fine, and so was he. "Satoru...?" Honey dripping naturally in your voice makes his head turn automatically. The worry etched on your face made the strings holding his mind together break one by one. "Are you alright..? You're sweating."
Nothing was fine. He can't believe you just said that to him. Why would you..? Why did...? Why?.....wait, why?? Why??? Why why why why why why WHY would you do that? Why would you say that to him? He sacrificed so much for you. He killed all of the assassins that went after you when the higher ups found out about you and him getting closer. He paid off your parent's debt secretly. He paid your rent. He woke up early in the mornings to talk to you because he knows you like to wake up to see the sunset. He memorized all of your schedules when you have special weeks, special breaks, he memorized all days that you memorized, he knows what mattress you like to sleep on, he knows how you like certain foods to be seasoned, he knows your favorite weather and season, he didn't fucking learn all of this about you for nothing!! WHY don't you ever appreciate everything he's ever done for you? Why don't you notice him? Why don't you love him? He stalks you every day to understand the type of man you would want to live under your roof and be under your covers and that wasn't enough.
He's been so alone all of his fucking life. No one understood him like you do. He couldn't help but open his ribcage, breaking them off of his body to one by one to let you touch his hot beating heart with your cold fingers. He wants you inside of his heart forever and never let you go, can't you understand that? He hasn't slept in three days, predetermining what he was going to say to you during this picnic, and you tell him that?? Just fucking kill him. Kill him, kick his face, spit on him, ruin him like you're doing now. He clearly doesn't matter.
"Satoru??"
He's supposed to be the one you compare playing video games with, he is supposed to be the one you watch the same tv shows with, he was supposed to go to the same school as you!! His skin is on fire, he can't breathe, his mind hurts, the grass blades are irritating his skin and the children are making his migraine worse. Are you saying something? He can't hear you. His ears are ringing.
He wants to be him. He wants to rip open the skin and spine of the man who lived in your soul since the dawn of time and crawl into his body to experience what he experienced. He wants to do all of those things with you as kids and live with you, grow with you, let him be your infatuation. He wants to rewind time. He wants to die. He wants both of you to die and be reborn to be given a second chance he can never ever have.
"Satoru!"
Your face is twisted into heavy concern and slight fear. Satoru sat in front of you, staring at you. He hasn't moved in three entire minutes. His face was covered in bucket loads of sweat, his lips twisted into a tight smile that threatened to break into a million pieces. The corners of his lips wobbled as if he was going to cry, but his eyes were wide open and dry. His legs, arms, and back stiff as he sits in such an uncomfortable position, it had to hurt. You were scared for him.
Can he hear you? You slowly raise on of your hands to touch his cheek and he flinches under your touch, finally blinking. "Yes?" You purse your lips and bring out a cold water bottle from your basket. "Here, maybe you should drink some water." He takes the water bottle you dropped into his hand. "Thank you." He whispers and sighs, twisting open the cap. You watch him guzzle the whole thing in 5 seconds. "......maybe we should go indoors." He nods, closing the now empty water bottle. "Yeah. The sun is hurting my eyes."
No part 2's. Because I don't like continuing old plot and I love seeing people go crazy for me not continuing good content.
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for the past few years iâve had a personal rule that i do not sign anything i havenât read - mostly because i genuinely think itâs a good idea, but also as a kind of social experiment - and i wanna share some observations
when i worked at an amusement park, i was one of like two or three people in a group of around twenty young adults who read the employment contract
i gave up on reading every TOS and privacy policy early on - now i only read them if itâs a website or company iâll be giving personal information to (and even then i only skim them) - but iâve never found anything super suspect in one
i also have an exception for when iâm made to feel like iâd be an asshole for stopping to read something. notable examples of this going into effect include the patient-intake paperwork at the ER when i went in a few months ago. (i really wish iâd just gone ahead and been the asshole in that situation, even though i have no reason to think there was anything bad in it)
i think the only time i was the only one to read something that the people who gave it to us actually wanted us to read was the waiver at a cat café, which included a lot of safety information about how to interact with the cats
one time i was approached by a guy with a petition who told me it was an anti-fracking petition (which was a real petition that was going around at the time), but the paper he handed me was a petition to instate a âcitizenship requirementâ for voting. i pointed this out to him and he tried to convince me that even though thatâs what it said, itâs not really what my signature meant, and then named the university he graduated from as though it gave him some level of extra credibility??
i have more than once been given a HIPPA form at a doctorâs office where my signature certifies that iâve been offered a copy of their privacy practices, when i had not, in fact, been offered a copy of their privacy practices. the last time this happened, the receptionist didnât actually have a copy of their privacy practices, and had to get me to me sign it several days later once she got a copy from her manager
99% of people are very accommodating when you tell them âi want to read this before i sign it,â but itâs never what theyâre expecting
on a related note, if someone thinks itâs important that you know whatâs in something theyâre giving you to sign, they wonât wait for you to read it - theyâll go through, point to each section, and tell you what it says. this is what happened when i signed my lease, and itâs actually a pretty common instance of using my asshole exception, because then i feel like iâm calling the person a liar if i stop to read it myself
the moral of the story is... like... we treat a signature like itâs the absolute most surefire way of saying âyes i understand this and agree to it,â but in practice thereâs not even a pretense that a signature means youâve READ whatever youâre signing. in fact, handing someone a piece of paper and saying âsign hereâ is one of the LEAST effective ways to make sure they understand and agree to something, and PEOPLE KNOW THIS, and we do it ANYWAY because what else are we gonna do? notarize it??
i donât have a solution but like. thatâs kinda fucked up, you know?
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closing the distance || alexia putellas x reader ||
you surprise alexia with your transfer to barcelona.
alexia looked absolutely adorable as she laid in bed. the two of you usually facetimed each other for a little while after your respective trainings. it wasn't uncommon for you to just be sitting in your car while you spoke to her, so she didn't question anything in the background.
"hi baby," you greeted alexia. her lips curled into a smile at the term of endearment. the two of you were alone, which meant that alexia didn't have to act so serious. "how did you sleep?"
"as well as i can without you next to me. when will you be down for a visit? i've been missing you," alexia said. you were surprised that she hadn't been whining and pouting a lot more. usually, she threw a little fit until you slotted her into your schedule. alexia was very needy, which had surprised you whenever the two of you first got together.
"soon, very soon. that's actually why i'm calling you right now. i thought that you'd want to know before the news actually breaks." alexia sat up in her bed, knowing exactly what you were talking about already. the two of you had already been through several conversations about your transferring once your contract was up. a lot of the girls had been sad to see you go, especially stina and frida, but you needed to be closer to alexia.
the two of you had been together for a long time, already having lived together for short stints of time whenever you were still living in spain. your transfer to arsenal had nearly destroyed your relationship, and if it wasn't for alexia's spanish teammates talking some sense into her, you knew that it would be nonexistent. however, now the two of you were approaching a few years together, and the natural progression of things to you felt like marriage, which you knew alexia would only agree to if you moved to barcelona with her.
"i want to hear you say it," alexia said.
"it's not official yet, i have to sign the contract first," you told her. alexia's face fell for a moment, but only until you spoke up again. "that's what i was trying to tell you. i'm in barcelona for a bit, and i was wondering if i could stay with you for the week."
"you don't have to ask, this is your home too," alexia told you. you smiled as you moved to get out of your car, which was the first time that alexia realized you weren't in london anymore. "are you outside of apartment building?"
"i am. i had my last practice last week," you told her. alexia dropped her phone as she ran out to see you. you laughed to yourself as you hung up and slipped your phone into your bag. within a minute, alexia was running out to the parking lot and nearly tackling you in a hug. "ale!"
"te amo-," alexia pressed a kiss to your cheek, "-i have missed you, mi amor."
"i missed you too, baby." alexia lifted you up off of the ground in her arms. she set you down gently, pressing several kisses all over your cheeks. you laughed from the sensation of her lips tickling your skin slightly. "let me grab my suitcase and we can go up together."
"don't bother, i've got it," alexia said confidently. you rolled your eyes at her, but let her grab your bags anyway. "i can't believe that you're moving back in with me. we can eat breakfast together, go out for lunches, and i can show you all of my mami's recipes. i don't care about anything other than catching up with you this week. i'm keeping you all to myself."
"you can have me until i sign my contract. i did promise mapi that we'd go out for drinks if i ever came back to barcelona," you reminded alexia. it had been one of the only ways for you to convince the defender to let you go. you had been a good friend of hers at athletico when you had played there together, and she was almost worse than alexia about the idea of losing you.
"i am sure that i can convince you to stay in with me." alexia wiggled her eyebrows and flexed a little. as silly as you found her sometimes, the flexing was unfortunately extremely attractive to you. it was alexia's surefire distraction, and she knew it.
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About You Pt2
Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader
Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.
A/N: were in the 2009 season. i also grabbed some ideas from a film quote so if you notice that, hello hehe. hope you enjoy, let me know your comments
About You Series: 1, 2, 3
Taglist: @spideybv28 @randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama
2009, Albert Park
Moving from Toro Rosso to Red Bull has been the source of excitement of Sebastian ever since he signed the contract last December. He was excited to work with a bigger team and it opened up better opportunities for a championship which is why he feels really giddy walking to Albert Park.
"Seems like a good year for a championship?"Christian greeted Sebastian.
"I'm looking forward to that, the car feels nice"Sebastian agreed.
When the two walked to the garage, they immediately saw the Webber siblings discussing with some of the mechanics. Mark immediately waved at Sebastian.
Sebastian can tell that their dynamics improved since it was announced that they will be teammates. They spent a lot of time together in Milton Keynes so they found each other tolerable. It was surprising that now he feels a lot more closer to Mark than to Y/N.
He was actually expecting her to be around when they said Mark will be around Milton Keynes but the female Webber never showed up. Mark says that Y/N has been taking some time off since she will be busy during the season. Sebastian thinks he might be the reason why she has been absent so he felt a little relieve to see her.
"Excited for the first race of the season?" Y/N asked.
"The car seems alright, I think we can bring some good points in"Sebastian replied.
"We're gonna bring in a challenge this year, I can feel that we can compete for the drivers and constructors championship this year"Mark added
"How about Brawn, do you think they'll be a challenge?"Y/N wondered.
Sebastian heard about the team during the winter break. It was sort of a crazy story about how everything happened. He never saw Jenson or Rubens as a threat so he thinks that they might be an okay team that he doesn't have to worry about.
"They are a new team, I'm sure they won't be a threat" famous last words.
Brawn GP turns out to be a slight threat. Sebastian calls it a slight threat since this was only the first race and maybe its just their luck that they managed to pull away. They have to see how they perform in the next few races.
It was quite a bummer that Red Bull was unable to bring any points. It frustrated him heavily since he started 3rd and managed to stay 2nd the whole race until that unfortunate collision with Kubica that ruined his race.
Mark managed to finish the race but he finished 13th. Still out of the points.
As Sebastian was replaying the whole thing in his hotel room, he heard soft knocks at his door. He didn't remember ordering anything from room service so he was a bit confused as he headed to open the door.
"Hi Seb" it was Y/N "I was sent here by Mark to ask you if you want to go out and eat. You are in Australia and our family is from Australia and it will be a little bit rude if we didn't treat you out in Australia"
"That's too many Australia in one sentence"
"Have dinner with us and the family?"she simplifies "Please?"
There was not much to do anyway, Seb thinks so he accepted the offer. It might also be a good start to rekindle the friendship since its been a while since the two spoke with each other.
"You're driving?"Sebastian asked
"Of course, what kind of host am I if I'm going to make you drive"
The drive was reminiscent of Sebastian's memory when they were in Germany. Only that the view is more of beaches rather than the greens and the cold of Europe.
"I heard stories about you and Mark, it seems that you two are getting along quite well"Y/N opened up the conversation
"Oh he talks about me?"
"Well as his assistant, I have to ask about his work dynamics so yeah you have been a talking point of our conversation"
"That's nice"Sebastian smiles "How is life treating you? I didn't see you in Milton Keynes"
She lets out a heavy sigh and Sebastian could tell that there is a certain tiredness in her eyes. Maybe its true what Mark said that Y/N is actually drained from a season of F1.
"I just have to get away. A lot of pressure to deliver"
Sebastian understands that. Its probably the reason why he also tried to be understanding with Mark's situation as well. He knows that at the end of the day, the sports was brutal in one way or another. Everyone eventually gets that pressure to deliver.
"Let's not talk about f1, lets just talk about basic life things" Sebastian steered the conversation.
There was a smile gracing both of their faces because its just Sebastian and Y/N again. No last names, no championships, just them.
2009, Sepang International Circuit
"I hate wet races" Y/N confirms.
She doesn't get why everyone gets a bit excited with wet racing but she can't find how this is enjoyable for some people. Isn't the thrill of racing beyond speed limit exciting enough for them? Now they even want to race under dangerous weather conditions.
"It test your skills as a driver" Sebastian defended "Back me up here Mark"
"You're on your own Seb"was the reply of the older Webber. He did not want to take side with anyone.
The trio has been sitting at the garage waiting for the race to start. There was still 20 minutes left and Y/N has been stressing about how the dark clouds are looming over. She thinks it may start under dry conditions then go to wet in a snap.
"You can test your skills by overtaking and setting the fastest lap" Y/N noted
"Its all about strategy and taking risks"Sebastian assured.
"You better make sure that the both of you finish the race"
"No promises, Seb might hit me again"Mark joked
"Oh c'mon, I said I was sorry about that"
True enough to Y/N's prediction, the race started on the dry conditions then it ended up to be a wet race. Y/N had her fair share of wet races but this was the most terrifying for her opinion. There were puddles and the drivers can't see a thing with the rain blocking their vision.
It gotten so bad that Y/N actually went out of the driver's room to check on the status of the drivers.
"Aren't they red flagging the race?"she asked one of the mechanics
"There is still nothing from the stewards but Mark is also insisting that the race should be stopped"
Y/N was glad that she wasn't the only sane Webber around.
Just then there was a crash on screen and the weather made it very difficult for them to decipher which car spun but it was for sure a Red Bull. Y/N felt a bit comforted that it just spun without hitting anyone or anything.
"Its confirmed, that is Seb's car"
"Safety car for the lap"
"Webber is gonna ask to stop the race"
There was a flurry of emotions inside the garage. The race was stopped at lap 33 and there was the question if they will wait for it to restart or is it called off completely.
"I'm in 15th, this is not good"Sebastian was already groaning. He missed out on the points again by a big margin.
"Hey 15th is okay than dnf or being hospitalized"
Knowing Sebastian, Y/N knew he wanted to do well and it didn't seem like it was going to how Sebastian had it in his mind earlier this year. She gave him a comforting pat.
"Do you want some ice cream?"she asked
Sebastian looked at her as if she grew two heads "In this cold weather? You are asking for ice cream?"
"Ice cream heals people's boo boo" Y/N shrugged "Besides Kimi made me hungry for ice cream"
"You are crazy" Sebastian started "But c'mon lets go get some ice cream"
2009, Circuit de Catalunya
Mark: Can you see me before qualis at the back of the garage
Mark: need your help, please
Sebastian never received any urgent texts from Mark so he must say that his curiosity is piqued by it. He immediately set out to meet Mark in the designated location.
"You need me?"Sebastian asked.
"Sebastian, just the person I needed" Mark seems elated to see him "Listen I need you to do me a favor"
"Okay as long as I don't have to hide a body"
"What?"
"Nevermind that. It was a joke Mark"Sebastian wanted to facepalm himself. Mark never seems to understand his humor especially when he was too excited with things.
"So May 15 is coming up. I need your help to distract my sister and maybe tour her around Spain while we do some preparation at the hotel. I just need your help to distract her for like 3-4 hours"Mark explained.
"15th?What's on the 15th?"
Sebastian was pretty sure that there was no race or other commitments that is happening on the 15th. He tries to rack his head for any important dates on the 15th but he can't remember a thing. Meanwhile, Mark looked offended that Sebastian didn't know the significance of May 15.
"Its Y/N's birthday"Mark answered.
Oh. Now that Sebastian thinks about it, Y/N never told her birthday. He felt like an idiot after realizing how they spend a lot of time together but he still haven't asked her about her birth date. But now that he knows, he makes a mental note of it.
"Okay. I think I can do that. Leave it to me"
"Thanks Seb, I owe you big time"
Seb: Are you still here at the 15th?
Y/N: Why are you asking?
Seb: I'm feeling adventurous. What do you say about getting lost in spain?
Y/N: hmm sounds nice. Count me in.
"How long till we get there"Y/N asked.
They have driven for quite some time already and Sebastian promised that this place will be worth the wait. Sebastian will not admit it but maybe he got a little bit of lost in directions for the past 20 minutes and he is just starting to get the hang of the destination right now.
"Just a few minutes more" Sebastian assured. He can already see the spires of the building so he felt a sigh of relief escape.
"We were lost a while ago, aren't we?"
Sebastian just give out a grin as he continues to drive closer to the place. He stopped at the designated parking lot and unlocked the door.
"Adventure awaits Miss Y/N, welcome to La Sagrada Familia"Sebastian introduced.
When Sebastian was looking for a place to go, the La Sagrada Familia was one of the top hit. Sebastian didn't even consider if she is religious or what but he thinks she can appreciate the reminder that this architecture is still a work in progress and it has managed to endure a lot throughout the years of construction.
"This is beautiful" was her response.
"They say that this will be the most beautiful form of apology when it is finished"Sebastian informed "This was built for the city's sins"
"I beg to disagree"Y/N replied.
It was now Sebastian's turn to be curious.
"I think this is the grandest gesture of someone's love"Y/N elaborated "This went on for years, decades, centuries-they did not stop loving Barcelona that they continue working so that the city will be forgiven"
It was a pretty analogy in Sebastian's mind. He felt like no amount of his research could compare with that realization.
If the outside of the cathedral looks majestic, the inside is beyond what they could imagine. The both of them let out a small woah as they stepped foot into the church.
"You know you can make three wishes when its your first time to enter a church, they say it comes true when you do that"Y/N mentioned "You wanna give it a go?"
Sebastian nodded and he noticed how Y/N immediately closed her eyes.
'A world drivers championship. Happiness. Y/N receiving her wish' was what Sebastian prayed for.
He takes out a peek and Y/N was still in her own solemn state. Sebastian wonders what is it that she wishes for and he hopes that this three wishes thing works. He really wanted Y/N to fulfill her wishes, it will make him extremely happy.
"What did you wish for Y/N"
"Safe races, World Peace, and points for you and Mark" she answered
"Oh c'mon, you don't have things about yourself. Don't you have any personal wishes? Like your own goals or your own things?"Sebastian quizzed
Y/N knew deep down that she wanted something but she knew that saying it at the moment might not be ideal. But heaven knows, she prayed for Sebastian Vettel to stay in her life.
2009, NĂŒrburgring
Y/N didn't mind that she was in heels, she was running as fast as she could to parc ferme. The moment that the last lap started and Mark was still leading, she immediately headed straight to the destination. Their father was already at the pits waiting with the signboard.
There was certainly a mix of emotions. Y/N's mind reel back to how Mark started pole and then had an incident with Hamilton at the start of the race. It caused him to have a penalty which lessens his chances of winning but Mark was in for a mega-drive. He managed to regain all the places that he lost from the penalty and here he is leading the Grand Prix.
Y/N felt her ears ringing as the crowd roars as the chequered flag appeared. Every speaker was blaring out the obvious, this is Mark Webber's first win in Formula 1.
People are starting to line up near the barricades. Y/N doesn't care if she was being pushed but she will be the first one to meet her brother and congratulate him once he gets out of the car.
"YOU DID IT! YOU ABSOLUTELY CRUSHED IT" Y/N screamed to Mark.
Mark did not miss his sister and immediately hugged her tight. He kept on repeating his thanks for her support and for not giving up on him. Y/N could only choke on a sob with the cameras flashing the emotional sibling moment that they shared.
"Congratulations Mark"Sebastian appeared next to him and Mark gave him a hug.
It was a happy day for the Red Bull team for securing double podiums. The whole Red Bull team cannot contain their happiness as the two walked to their podium spots. It is certainly a day that warrants a much needed night out.
So fast forward and Red Bull rented out a club to celebrate the victory of today. Y/N was certain that she deserved to let loose a little with the events that happened today.
Shots after shots, Y/N managed to drink everything up until the room started to feel a little bit wavy. It was a good thing that Sebastian has not been much of a party animal, he knew that this was Mark's time to celebrate so he won't be taking too much of a spotlight.
"You are seriously wasted, you should stop drinking now" Sebastian said, catching Y/N before she could trip in her heels.
"my brother won, can't you believe ittttt"her words are slurred.
"Yep, I'm getting you water and were going back to the hotel"
"NOOOOOO"
But Sebastian has already carried her out of the club. Sebastian knew that there are probably much more people wasted there but Sebastian was focused on Y/N. She was the reason why Sebastian decided to sober up the entire night. Knowing that Mark will be celebrating, no one will take care of Y/N.
Sebastian wanted to take care of her.
The trip to the hotel was smooth as Y/N was asleep at the car. Sebastian was giggling when he picked her up and she started rambling about how there are different kinds of beautiful in formula 1.
"But you know what's the most beautiful thing in f1 that I have seen?" she asked "Its the time where I saw Sebastian Vettel test the car"
Sebastian got curious, he didn't know that Y/N was around when he tested the car.
"And it was so dreamy. There was this beauty about him and you know he is so passionate. He isn't a paid driver or maybe he is but damnnnn the way he raced and the way he loved the wheels"Y/N rambles on.
It feels illegal for Sebastian to be hearing this and he knows he should not take advantage of Y/N's truthful drunkness to hear what she thinks about him. But somehow, Sebastian stayed with her. He tucked her in the bed and left a glass of water at the bedside table.
"Did you know Sebastian Vettel is the prettiest boy ever. He is so pretty like how the sun is so pretty to the plants" Sebastian also laughed at the comparison. Y/N was really really drunk.
"I like Sebastian"
"What?" was Sebastian's shocked question.
"I like sebastian, what sue me? I think he is a pretty pretty boy"
Sebastian feels like his heart is pounding but he has to stay cool. She is drunk right now and she might not be aware of the things she is saying.
"You get some rest, lets talk about this in the morning" Sebastian said as he left the girl.
It took every ounce of his being to prevent himself from confessing that he likes her a lot too. But Sebastian will do his confession sober. If Y/N remembers this incident then they will talk about it. If not, he will wait for the right timing to discuss the feelings he has for her.
Morning came and Y/N did not remember anything.
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đ đđđđđđđđđ [đđđ] // đđđđ đđđđ đđđđđ
summary: Lucy Gray has always been there for you, the only person you care for as much as you do. So much, in fact, that when you discover Mayfair's plan to have her reaped in the Hunger Games, you know you have to stop it. Even if it means giving up your own life.
warning/s: the usual warnings that come with the Hunger Games.
author's note: okay so someone requested another lucy gray imagine where reader volunteers for her, so thatâs what i did but kinda did it a little bit different as the usual volunteering storyline feels very been there done that lol. Hope you all like it anyway! thereâs a second part too :)
two / masterlist / wattpad
It had been a long a day, my feet hurting from being stood up for so long and my exhaustion from working a long shift worsening by the second. But as soon as the clock hit 5pm, all my energy returned and I was quick to leave my apron behind as I left. Working at a crockery stall in the markets wasn't a terrible job, and it paid decently, but some days dragged longer than others and I only wished for it to end.
Thankfully, tonight was also a night that the Covey performed at the Hob, so I made my way over there, specifically behind it where the musical group got ready before performances in an abandoned garage they claimed as theirs. I always met before their shows, wanting to wish them luck and also because Lucy Gray, my best friend, would never let me hear the end of it if I didn't stop by beforehand.
"There you are!" Maude Ivory, the youngest of the group, called me over once I stepped in the open door. "You took forever!"
"I'm like two minutes late, Maude Ivory," I defended myself, and a smile fell on my lips when I saw her pouting. "Sorry."
"Can you braid my hair like last time?" she asked politely, already turning around and readying herself for me.
"I sure can," I agreed, smiling at the others as they got ready before moving to braid Maude Ivory's hair.
It didn't take long, just a simple braid around the crown of her head, complementing the rest of her hair that was left out in a way that made her look like a princess. Adorable.
"Oh, I love it!" she gushed, immediately looking in the mirror to appreciate it, and I watched her with a smile. "Thank you, Y/N!"
"No problem," I said dismissively.
"Wow, you look beautiful, Maude Ivory," Lucy Gray appeared beside me, smiling down at the younger girl, and then she gave me a playful look. "Favouritism much?"
I couldn't help but laugh. "All you had to do was ask."
She immediately took a seat on the chair Maude Ivory was moments ago. When I didn't move, she glanced over her shoulder at me with a knowing nod. "Well, go on then."
I rolled my eyes lightheartedly before moving to braid her hair next, squeezing her shoulder slightly in retaliation, and I knew she was smiling all the same. As I'd done many times before, I combed out Lucy Gray's curly hair with my fingers, unknotting it the best I could, before separating it into two parts and giving her two over-the-shoulder braids.
"You done?" she asked impatiently, definitely trying to annoy me.
I finished tying off the second braid before rounding the chair to take a look. Her brown eyes looked up at me adorably, and even though she did nothing special, my heart fluttered in my chest at the attention.
Okay, so maybe I liked her a little more than friends, but I couldn't help it. She was the only person I had in my life that meant something to me, the only one who truly cared. After becoming friends many years ago because we happened to play in the park together as kids, she was stuck with me, and I suppose my gratitude for having her in my life turned into adoration somewhere along the way.
The only real family I had was my father, but he had been bitter towards me since my mum died only a few years after I was born. He hated me without saying it, and I sought love in friendship with Lucy Gray. Though, it was so much more than that on my end. But she could never know, for I'd rather have her in my life like this than not at all. And I would never risk jeopardising that, ever.
"Don't move," I warned her, before leaving the garage for a moment to pick a flower I'd seen just outside.
When I returned, I was surprised to see her sat how I'd left her, though pouting. I carefully slid the flower at the top of her braid, near her ear, and stepped back to admire my work.
"You're done, Little Miss Impatient," I finally said with a stifled smile.
She gave me a disapproving look before moving to the mirror to check it out. Her facade faltered as a warm smile tugged at her lips and she admired the view.
"Okay, I'll let you off since this is pretty nice," she said jokingly.
"Wow, only nice? I thought it was much more than that," I played along.
Her smile widened as she approached me, before kissing me on the cheek and hugging me briefly. I was expecting neither, my brain short circuiting as quickly as she pulled away.
"It's beautiful, Y/N, thank you," she said truthfully, losing her humour. When I didn't know what to say, too busy trying not to think about her lips against my cheek, she said, "You're stayin', right?"
I blinked, dazed. "Huh?"
She began to chuckle, and then her question truly sank in and I cleared my throat, nodding.
"Iâ yes, I am," I said, giving her a small smile. "Where else would I be?"
She rolled her eyes playfully before turning to the others. "Right, guys, are we ready to blow everyone's socks off?!"
As always, I enjoyed my evening at the Hob, cheering the Covey on and staying for all their performances as promised. It was always so lovely in there, except for the occasional fight that would break out between the miners and Peacekeepers, but none of that happened tonight. I was tired by the end of it all, as were the others, but as we all walked out together, Lucy Gray tugged my hand back.
"Hm?" I said, yawning as I looked to her.
"Are you in a rush to get home?" she asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"No, why?" I asked curiously.
Excited, she said, "Come to the lake with me."
I quirked a brow. "Now?"
Expression softening, she nodded. "Yeah, it'll be nice. It's a clear night too."
Another yawn escaped my lips and I covered my mouth before shaking my head. "I dunno, I'm a little tired and it's getting late."
"C'mon," she insisted, before grabbing my hand and forcing me to follow her, but not before looking to the others and adding, "I'll see you guys later!"
"Don't make too much noise when you're back!" Barb Azure, the eldest of their group, warned her.
"I won't," Lucy Gray mumbled, and then we were off and I just about managed to wish everyone a goodnight behind me before we were too far from them.
"How aren't you tired?" I asked as I fell into step with her, accepting my defeat and knowing I couldn't really decline her offer anyway. "You've been onstage all night."
She shrugged. "I'm a little tired, but I wanted to spend more time with you. You've been workin' loads lately."
I sighed, feeling a little bad. "Sorry, it's the house. Payments are falling behind and my dad is getting on my back andâ"
"Hey, I'm not complainin'," she stopped me. "I just miss you."
A small smile crept on my lips at her unwavering honesty â that was one thing I'd always envied about her. She could say how she was feeling without overthinking how it could be perceived, whereas I was the complete opposite.
"I'm right here," I assured her, and then she glanced at me with a smile that warmed my heart.
"How is he?" she asked. "He still standoffish with you?"
"Isn't he always?" I said, a little bitterly, before shaking my head. "Never mind him anyway. Doesn't matter."
Probably sensing my mood, she said, "You're right, it doesn't. You have me."
I was glad it was dark out, otherwise she would've seen the pink dusting my cheeks.
We continued our walk to the lake, talking and trying to stay awake long enough to make it there. It was a long walk on a regular day, but tonight it felt even longer because of the constant stepping around and trying to find our way in the dim light of the moon peeking through the trees. Still, it was comforting to be around Lucy Gray instead of back home where my dad would no doubt be on my case, so I savoured the time together.
By the time we reached the lake â in particular, a spot where a cabin sat, with a dock and boat beside it â Lucy Gray and I were wide awake, any hint of exhaustion for the evening dispersing with our trek. We both took a seat at the edge of the dock, feet dangling over the side, and she nudged my arm gently.
"Look how pretty the water looks," she said with amazement, and I hummed in agreement.
It was beautiful out tonight, the lull of the water lapping over itself and shimmering in the moonlight providing the perfect view for a perfect evening. Being out here always put me at ease, but being out here with Lucy Gray was indescribable.
After a moment of quiet, she nudged me again and I took the hint, following her lead as we both lay on our backs to look up at the night sky. If the view before was great, then this was amazing. Stars filled the sky, dazzling and bright and filling me with a sense of awe. It was different than seeing the stars from my house â this was all open, isolated, peaceful. I loved it.
"How many have times have you been here at night?" I asked Lucy Gray curiously.
"Not a lot," she assured, "but enough to know that it'a perfect for stargazin', and you love that, so I wanted to show you."
I chuckled a little. "I do. Thanks."
Another quiet enveloped us, only the sound of the water, the trees rustling gently and some birds in the distance to be heard. I could have stayed like this forever. It certainly would have been an upgrade from my usual life.
"Did you see Billy Taupe earlier?" Lucy Gray asked suddenly.
Billy Taupe was her ex-boyfriend and an ex-member of the Covey, but we'd all be ignoring him for a few weeks now after we'd discovered he'd cheated on Lucy Gray with the mayor's daughter. As a result, him and said daughter, Mayfair Lipp, weren't fond of us, especially Mayfair, who seemed to hold a personal vendetta against Lucy Gray.
I nodded, glancing at her, but she was still looking at the sky. "Yeah. I avoided him, but him and Mayfair were glaring at me for sure."
She exhaled quietly, troubled.
"Did he say something?" I asked, attention fully on her now.
"He confronted me between one of my performances," she admitted, piquing both my interest and concern. "Started talkin' about how I needed to stop badmouthin' him to the rest of the Covey."
I furrowed my brows. "You haven't though. If anything, you barely mention him."
"Well, he doesn't seem to think that," she said with an eye roll.
I frowned, hating to see her upset at the likes of him yet again. "If he keeps bothering you, tell me. I'll have a word with him."
As if I'd said something hilarious, she began to smile and then laughter spilled from her lips. "You're cute, and I appreciate it, but you shouldn't get involved. Him and Mayfair are capable of a lot."
"Lucy Grayâ" I started, ready to retort, but she cut me off with a serious stare, her smile fading.
"Promise me, Y/N," she said sternly, dark eyes boring into mine.
I gave in instantly, embarrassingly enough. "I promise."
Visibly relieved, she relaxed and nodded slightly before sitting up and stretching her arms. I watched for a moment, though thoughts of Billy Taupe and his foulness stuck in my mind. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? Same with Mayfair? Didn't they have anything better to do?
"Say, you ever been for an evenin' swim under the stars?"
I blinked, barely paying attention. "What?"
She glanced down at me with a smirk, before standing up and beginning to step out of her dress. Realising what she was doing, I sat up and started to protest.
"Lucy Gray, it's gonna be cold and dark andâ"
But she beat me to it, her dress pooling by my feet as she dove in from the edge of the dock. I wiped my face with mild annoyance as she splashed me, watching as she resurfaced with a laugh.
"C'mon, you gon' leave me hangin'?!" she exclaimed.
I narrowed my eyes at her with distaste, but as always, I couldn't say no to her. So, grumbling to myself petulantly, I stepped out of my own clothes and dove right into the water next to her. It was cold, as suspected, but as I resurfaced, my body was already getting used to the temperature. It was still the middle of summer, so it was actually quite refreshing in the evening heat, though my complaints of it being dark were still valid.
"Not bad, right?" Lucy Gray asked me with a grin.
I pushed my hair from my eyes and gave her a reluctant glance. "I suppose not."
Her grin only widened, and then she looked up, eyes reflecting the moonlight and shimmering like the water. "Look."
I looked up too, amazed by the sight of the sky yet again, but before I could say anything, Lucy Gray splashed my face with water, making me shriek with surprise.
"Lucy Gray!" I scolded, wiping my eyes as she laughed. "You did that on purpose!"
Her laughter only increased, and then I was attempting to splash her back, but she was swimming backwards and then I was swimming after her, her laughter filling the silence of the woods and brightening up the place more than the moon ever could. I eventually grabbed her and splashed her face enough for her to spit it out and cease her laughter.
"Okay, okay, you win!" she gave in, wiping her eyes before playfully glaring at me.
It was my turn to laugh and she rolled her eyes lightheartedly before swimming around me yet again.
We stayed there for a little longer, splashing about and talking about everything and nothing. It was easy to forget everything waiting for me back home, or my job that I didn't want to go to, or the reality of our lives. No, all I had to focus on right now was Lucy Gray's voice, her company, her.
But it was seriously getting late, no doubt past midnight now, and all good things couldn't last forever. We were floating on our backs, staring at the sky in a comfortable silence, and I hated that I had to interrupt it.
"We should go back," I said reluctantly, stopping floating. "If my dad realisesâ"
"Right, yeah," she agreed apologetically. "Come on."
We both climbed out the lake in a peaceful silence, tugging on our clothes and shoes and squeezing the water from our hair the best we could. As I was doing just that, I felt her eyes on me and looked up with a confused smile.
"What?" I asked, feeling the last of the water drip down my wrists as I let go of my hair.
She began to smile unabashedly. "I'm glad I have you. Thanks for coming tonight. For being here."
My face was heating up, but I played it off with a playful eye roll. "Weirdo."
She chuckled quietly, shaking her head, before leading the way back to the Seam.
It had been a long day at work and the last thing I wanted was to come home to my father being grumpy, and yet that was what I'd gotten a few days later.
As soon as I walked in, I saw him home too, looking around the kitchen with a clenched jaw. He must have just got back from the mines, judging from the coal dust covering his clothes and skin.
"Hey, dad," I greeted politely, though already feeling tense because he didn't seem to be in a good mood.
"The hell is all this?" he asked me, ignoring my greeting and instead motioning to the dishes on the table.
"What do you mean?" I asked with confusion, leaving my bag by the door.
"It's a mess in here," he said with irritation. "Did you not clean up?"
"Dad, I've been at work all day," I reminded him, sensing he'd had a bad day at work, because he wasn't usually this hostile. "When would I have cleaned up?"
He raised his eyebrows, as if I'd said something absurd. "Excuse me?"
I swallowed hard, not liking the way he sneered at me. "Iâ," I started, but stopped because I didn't know what to say. Technically, they were his dishes. His mess.
"Y'know, I work really hard to keep us alive," he said with a glare. "And the least you could do is keep the place tidy. You do fuck all anyway!"
I clenched my jaw, frowning and trying my best to contain my annoyance. "I know you do. But these were your dishes. From breakfast. I didn't even eat, I just left."
"Oh, so it's my fault?! That what you're saying?!"
"You're not listening!" I couldn't help but shout, getting sick and tired of his behaviour. "Look, you might have had a bad day at work, but you can't just take it out on me!"
"You don't know what I get up to at work!" he shouted right back. "It's not like yours, standing there, looking pretty! It's hard labour! Something you could never understand!" Then he motioned around and added, "Clearly! This place is a tip!"
I clenched my fists behind my back, but my anger was building up. "It's a tip because of you, dad! You leave it a mess! Then you come back and you blame it on me!"
"Don't you dare raise your voice at me!" he yelled. "Have some respect!"
"Then actually try and listen to what I'mâ!"
I couldn't even finish because he suddenly slapped me across the face, a sharp, blinding slap that knocked me off my feet for a second, leaving me stumbling into the kitchen table. I blinked, tears pooling in my eyes.
"Clean this place up," he snapped, before turning around to go to his room, slamming the door behind him.
I breathed out slowly, eyes burning now, and tried to ignore the pins and needles on my cheek. It wasn't the first time he'd hit me, and I should have been used to it, but it still took me by surprise sometimes. I hated it. I hated him. I would have done anything to leave, but I had nowhere to go.
Needing to get out of there as I calmed down, I left through the front door, waiting by the side of the house. I took in some fresh air and wiped furiously at my tears. He was the worst father a child could ask for, but he was the only one I had.
My face was hot and I was glad I couldn't see my reflection, knowing it would just be red on one side. As I finished wiping the last of my tears, I heard footsteps from behind me and sucked up a breath before turning around, worried it might be my father, back for round two. Thankfully it wasn't, but it was Lucy Gray.
She was smiling at first, then her eyes took in my expression and it faded instantly.
"What happened?" she asked straight away, stopping before me.
"Nothing," I assured her, though my cheek was still flaming, and she wasn't stupid.
She looked back at my house, and then back to me with a frown. "He was upset again, wasn't he?"
I looked to my shoes shamefully, not needing to answer. She knew what he was like, but it was something I hated to put on her. Nonetheless, she understood, and she touched my cheek gently, making me wince.
"You should stay with us," she muttered, trying to find my eyes, but I wouldn't look up. "We'll always have room for you, Y/N."
"I can't," I said with embarrassment. "And he's not always like this. It'sâ I'm handling it."
"No, you're not," she said, letting go of my cheek.
I didn't want to argue, nor did I want her pity, so I cleared my throat and looked up with the intention to change the subject. "What did you come here for anyway?"
She wasn't happy as she gave me a worried look. "Y/Nâ"
"Lucy Gray," I pleaded, before she could say anything more.
Giving in, she exhaled quietly. "I wanted to see if you wanted to go on a picnic with us tomorrow. You're not workin', right?"
At the sound of something much nicer, I relaxed and nodded. "I'd like that."
She seemed to relax too. "Good." Then she glanced over her shoulder at the house again, before adding, "You're stayin' with us tonight."
"I'm notâ"
"You are," she insisted stubbornly. "You still have a few things left from last time."
I sighed tiredly. "I have to clean up. He's gonna be mad."
"We'll clean up together, then you're comin'," she reasoned.
"I'll do it myself," I told her, shaking my head. "You know he doesn't like me hanging around with you."
She looked ready to protest, but I shot her a pleading look. The last thing I wanted was to set him off again, especially in front of Lucy Gray. Thankfully, she seemed to get this and nodded reluctantly.
"Fine, but hurry up," she gave in, taking my hand and squeezing it reassuringly. "I don't like you in there alone."
"I'll be quick," I promised, before leaving her to clean up.
My dad was still sulking in his room, so I was able to clean up quickly and let him know where I was going. He didn't answer, nor did he stop me, so I left and met Lucy Gray back outside. She took my hand without question, not letting go until we reached her place. I was glad not to be alone tonight.
A week later, it was another fun evening at the Hob where I watched my best friend perform and I didn't have to worry about work or my dad or anything. It was just like any other evening there, nothing out of the ordinary, or so I thought.
During one of Maude Ivory's talented solos, I got up to the go to the toilet, making it a quick one so I wouldn't miss a thing. But as I left the women's toilets, I caught sight of Billy Taupe and Mayfair chatting around the corner in hushed voices. I didn't care at first, trying to ignore they existed for Lucy Gray's sake, but then they mentioned the singer herself and I couldn't help but eavesdrop a little.
"...doesn't know when to keep her trap shut and herself to herself," Mayfair was saying bitterly.
"She's a singer," Billy Taupe reminded her. "That's what she does. Just ignore it."
Mayfair scoffed. "She thinks she has everyone in this town wrapped around her finger because, what, she can sing? And put on a little show? Well, you know what, we'll see how she sings her way out of the reaping!"
I froze from behind the wall, wondering what she meant by that.
"What?" Billy Taupe asked, just as confused but suspicious as I.
"She may have the looks, honey, but I have the connections," Mayfair continued, her hushed voice growing increasingly more annoyed as she spoke. "You just wait until reaping day. Lucy Gray won't be bothering anyone for much longer."
My eyes widened at her threat. What the hell was she talking about?
"What are youâ" Billy Taupe started, but the sound of the floorboards creaking beneath my weight made him stop, and I cursed inwardly.
Before they could even consider investigating, I slipped away between the doors unnoticed, back into the main room where everybody was distracted by the singing, dancing and drinking. My head was reeling though, trying to piece together what I'd just heard.
There was no way Mayfair would do what she was implying, right? She wouldn't just sabotage the reaping because of a feud, surely? Would she? If she did, then that would mean Lucy Gray would be chosen as tribute andâ
Oh, God. If she was chosen, she'd be shipped off to partake in the Hunger Games and that was it. She wasn't a fighter, she was a performer. And the Games was no place for someone like her. I'd never see her again. And her familyâ oh, no. No, this couldn't happen!
What could I do to stop this? Mayfair would never listen to reason, especially not from me. It wasn't fair, any of it.
Suddenly, I felt nauseous at the thought of everything playing out just as Mayfair wanted. Needing some fresh air, feeling overly stuffy in the Hob, I pushed past everyone and stepped outside, ignoring those who were enjoying a cigarette or drink and trying not to throw up.
I couldn't lose Lucy Gray like this, not because of some stupid feud. How badly could Mayfair hate her to do this? The Covey would be broken without her. She was too valuable to everyone. And she was all I had.
"Y/N?"
I turned around, seeing Lucy Gray approaching me with a concerned smile on her lips.
"What happened?" she asked, stopping before me.
I blinked, my thoughts still racing around. "What?"
"You left lookin' upset," she said worriedly. "What happened?"
I swallowed the lump in my throat, shaking my head. "Nothing. I just feel sick. Might've eaten something funny."
Her smile faded, replaced by a concerned frown. "Oh, gosh, do you wanna go home? Go to ours? I can walk you back. The others won't mind if I leave a little early."
She was watching me carefully, patiently, dark eyes flittering around my face as if she'd find the problem just like that. She was too kind for her own good and I couldn't help but think about how unfair this all was. She wasn't a bad person at all. How could Mayfair do this? Why couldn't I do anything about it? There had to be something!
"Y/N?" Lucy Gray said, before pressing the back of her hand to my forehead with concentration. "Hmm, you do feel a little warm."
It wasn't fair.
Without thinking, I hugged her tightly, promising myself there and then that I would fix this. She wasn't going to be subjected to Mayfair's wrath, not if I could help it.
"Woah, what's gotten into you?" she said with surprise, but returned the hug.
"Sorry," I mumbled, before pulling back and clearing my throat. "I just need some water. I'll be fine."
She quirked a brow. "You're sure?"
I nodded, trying my hardest not to worry her anymore.
"Okay... good," she said with relief, before a smile curled on her lips. "I've got a new song I want you to hear."
I returned her smile, letting her tug my hand and lead me back inside, but the truth of what I knew was already starting to suffocate me.
For days I mulled it over, trying to convince myself that maybe I misheard or misinterpreted Mayfair's words. Or that, maybe, Mayfair didn't have as much power as she was letting on.
But deep down, I knew it was true, and she was just petty enough to send Lucy Gray to her death. Which then brought me to my next problem: what could I do to stop it?
Mayfair was the mayor's daughter and the mayor was the one who chose the names for the reaping. It was pretty solid, with no interference from me able to stop it. But what was I to do? Do I tell Lucy Gray? Her family? At least, if I did, it would give them time to prepare. But how exactly? Would it not be easier to just let it play out as to not ruin their last moments together?
I didn't know, and it was so much information to carry, eating away at me little by little. What I did know was that I couldn't lose Lucy Gray. What would my life even look like if she was gone? What would the Covey do without her?
Lucy Gray was loved, needed, wanted. She couldn't die, not when she'd be so dearly missed and had so much left to give. If only I could take her place... I knew I would if I could. Nobody needed me or cared for me, nobody but her. But she'd get over my death. And my dad couldn't care less. If it meant saving Lucy Gray, I would do it. After all, I loved her.
But I couldn't, because it was her name to be picked, not mine. And with her name, she'd walk onstage and I'd never see her again. How could I change that?
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I WANNA BE YOURS â P.SH
synopsis: hiding your secret relationship with sunghoon from your brother, jay, proved to be quite a challenge. that was until youâve had enough of it, and sunghoon had to prove himself that he wants to be yours.
pairings: non-idol!sunghoon x afab!reader
genre: brother's best friend au, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, romance, humour
warning(s): profanities, slight suggestiveness
wc: 1340
a/n: sorry for the inactivity (currently going insane) !! as promised, here's the hoon drabble, apologies in advance if it's lacking đ not my best work imo. will be back after tomorrow since it's my last paper (yay) so please wait for me hehe. as usual, feedbacks and reblogs are much appreciated ! love you all !
masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.
This was wrong. Very, very wrong.
Who said it would be a good idea to get involved with your brother's best friend? Nobody. Exactly.Â
You found yourself somehow being tangled with Park Sunghoon ever since a party your brother and his friends held. He was only two years older than you and you've known him for practically your whole life. Your brother, Park Jong Seong, had known Sunghoon ever since they were kids, so he was definitely far from a stranger.Â
Coming around your house almost every day, dinners during festivities, holding parties when your parents were out of town, Sunghoon's always there no matter what the occasion was. It didn't help that he was nice to you too. Constantly giving you friendly smiles and acknowledging you when your brother chased you away during their 'bro time', he was a sweetheart.
Eventually, you knew you were in hell once you discovered your teeny tiny crush on Sunghoon was real and existing. To be fair, he was gorgeous, paired with an even prettier personality.Â
Yet, Jay was there to cockblock you and stop your chances. Look, he's a great brother to you, but he made it clear that you were 'off-limits', whatever that was. You couldn't believe it either.Â
Being the typical little sister, it was natural to defy your big brother and do exactly what he told you not to. Unbeknownst to him, you've gone behind his back and got with one of them. That explained why Sunghoon being in your room was wrong, especially when he's in your bed.
"Fuckâwhat about Jay?" You rasped out in between kisses, feeling the touch of his lips travelling down your throat.
Sunghoon groaned, his hands on your waist tightened momentarily. "He's not going to know I'm in here. I snuck in from your window anyway,"
"He can suddenly barge in,"
"You have your doors locked,"
Those words might seem nonchalant, but it was more than what it meant.Â
The times he's spent in your room, knowing each and every part of it, the crevices of your sheets to the feeling of your skin on his. It wasn't just something simple. Neither was the fact of your door always being locked.
"IâI don't know," you suddenly turned uncertain, pushing yourself up and having him stop.Â
"Hm? Are you okay? Something's up?" His face morphed into a look of concern, worried at your abrupt change in emotions.
"It's justâ" you sighed, not knowing how to approach it, "I wish we could be honest to Jong. I don't want to sneak around anymore, Hoon, it almost feels like you want to keep me a secret,"
"I don't, Y/N, I would never want that," he ran a hand through his hair, proceeding to take yours in his. "I want to be with you, hell, I want to tell everyone that. I wanna be yours,"
"But? What even are we?"
Right, you got to the question that everyone feared.
"Your brother. I don't know when I can do it,"
Frustration etched deeper into your face. "Hoon, if you don't know when you'll do it, then maybe, maybe, you just don't want me like that, or that you're scared to admit your actual feelings and continue to toy me around,"
"Noâ"
"Goodnight, Sunghoon."
You turned over onto your side, frowning deeply. It was time for him to set his shit right, and he was going to have to figure it out himself.Â
The next few times you saw Sunghoon after that night was when he came over to hang out with your brother. He has been texting you, to which you reciprocated dryly. He even got you flowers, your favourite snacks and even waited for you outside your bedroom door, but all of that wasn't enough for you to forgive him.
Why couldn't he just tell Jay the truth? If it was you, you would've already said it, but since Sunghoon was reluctant, you didn't. This was frustrating.
What's more frustrating was having Sunghoon seated next to you at the dinner table during dinner. You could feel him casting glances at you, nervousness emitting from his body quite obviously.Â
You were acting nonchalant, almost too nonchalant that it even had Jay casting glances between you and his jittery best friend. However, he said nothing.
"Hoon, pass the salad to Y/N," your brother said from Sunghoon's side, nudging him. You glanced up at the mention of your name, meeting Sunghoon's slightly widened eyes and confused stare.Â
"Iâuhâhere," he took the bowl and passed it to you, chewing the insides of his mouth.Â
How could you be mad at him when he looked like that? Sunghoon's starry eyes that never failed to soften your heart, the moles that decorated his face which you've traced in the night when he was asleep, he was your Sunghoon, or so you thought.Â
"Thanks," you said softly, offering a smile that he warmly reciprocated.Â
As you took the bowl from him, you felt the feather-like touch of his fingers grazing against yours, sending electricity up your senses. You locked eyes with him again, this time an equal want and pining evident in both your gazes.
He was the first to cough and retreat his hold on the bowl. You were snapped out of your momentary daze and also let out an awkward cough, scooping the salad into your bowl to shake off the feeling he gave you just now.
Once dinner was over, you took the very first chance to escape back upstairs, heart beating quicker the way up, and there was probably a reason for your anxiety. Sunghoon.
"Y/N," almost as fast as he had popped into your mind, he appeared behind you, probably followed you up. He got a hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks and you turned around, mouth slightly agape. "I figured we should ⊠talk,"
You took in his words, nodding slowly. "We should,"
"I'm sorry," he said without any hesitation, a hint of desperation laced in both his gaze and voice. "I was wrong for not putting a label on our relationship, I should've treated you better, you're everything to me. My heart wouldn't stop beating whenever I see you, you've completely bewitched me, you've drove me insane,"
Sunghoon heaved in a breath, stepping closer. "Secrets I've held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought. I told everything to Jay,"
"Youâwhat?"
"I did. I realised what you said was right and I told him. He's cool with it, Y/N," Sunghoon smiled, and it was the same smile he only had whenever he's around you.Â
"Really?"
"Really," he intertwined your fingers with his, pulling you close. "I wanna be yours, Y/N. You have my deep devotion, always,"
"Gosh, I want you to be mineâneed you. I like you, a lot, like crazy a lot. I wanna be yours too,"
"You genuinely drive me insane," he leaned in close, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, his lips edging closer. "Tell me if I can kiss you, pretty girl,"
He's kissed you many times, but this round, it hits differently. "You can,"
It didn't take Sunghoon another second before crashing his lips onto yours. He was pouring his pent up frustration, angst, desperation, and love into his kiss, almost kissing you as if there was no tomorrow.
As things escalated, you pushed him into your room, letting him spend the night where he smoothly asked you to be his girlfriend, which you agreed to, duh.Â
All was well between you and Sunghoon. You even got together and started planning out dates. It was meant to be.
On the other hand, Jay spent the night with music blasting in his ears. He had already suspected something between you and his best friend, but to find out it had been happening for months? It was shocking. But, he wasn't opposed to it.
He just has to make sure to close his eyes whenever you two are around together. Couples, ew.
( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )
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Savit-e
My host mother is a woman with long twirling hair and more floral-patterned sundresses than Iâve seen in my entire life. She throws open the closet each morning to flick each dress along its hanging rail, sharp squeaks. âWhat can I even wear?â The dresses sway like summer willows. I sneak in behind her and grab a t-shirt and jeans from my tiny pile at the bottom.
She loves earrings that swing and she loves stain-glass windchimes which clink and muse while she pours me the bitterest cup of tea Iâve ever had in my life. I fill it with sugar and she chides me. I remind her of all the spicy dishes I make that she cannot eat, and she says, âOkay, Iâll let it go this one time.â She sips her tea black. The birds titter at her joke. Weâll have the same conversation tomorrow.
My host mother is Jira and I wonder how closely we might be related every time I catch that glimmer in her eyes like my mothersâ. Jira is too tall to be my mother and her hair is not quite dark enough, but I like to believe I see it. I like to believe Jiraâs country and mine are related, that maybe her great-great-grandparents and mine were friends before the records were scorched and the lines were redrawn. Or maybe our countries bore no relation to each other. Maybe they were friends anyway. Maybe they were enemies. Iâve heard every opinion.
Jira has a worry-face like my mother, but she uses it for different things, like plum prices at the market and rain clouds blundering through like clumsy creatures. It used to surprise me, since my mother reserved her worry-face for only the dourest things in her mind. I saw more and more of it from my mother before I left. âBaby maybe you should spend the summer home. Maybe you can get your money back.â She said sheâd been reading things in the news. I told her not to worry. I would be safe in my travels. I feel stares pressing into my back while Jira leans over the plums. I notice Jira receives the stares too.
She hums a tune and busies herself in the kitchen in a dress Iâve never seen. Sheâs been in a great mood since her daughter came home this morning. I didnât get a good look at her daughter at first because Jira swallowed her right up in her arms. But I got to see her better when I helped bring her bags in. Savine is lithe, baby-faced and a head shorter than Jira, and her eyes carry the same arch and slope as Jiraâs. She has the same dimples and she moves in the same way, tilted forward, as if to let gravity do the work of carrying her momentum.
Savine is napping from her trip, and Jira seems to have forgotten all the slow and patient syllables she usually saves for me. She speaks in her rapid pace and I jog to keep up. Too many words slip through my grasp. One in particular I hear too many times. Savit-e. Â
âSavit-e?â I ask.
Jira puckers her lips as if to think. Her eyes rove. Footsteps tap gently closer behind me, and Jiraâs eyes light up as she looks past me.
âSavit-e!â she says, motioning forward as Savine rounds the counter and pulls her mom into another hug. Savine is only 10. Sheâs been away almost 6 months for school, according to Jira.
A nickname, I note. Savine wears earrings like windchimes as well.
âŠ
Jira has offered to charge me no rent if I babysit Savine for the summer and cook dinner in the evenings. Savineâs summer classes are early and short, as are mine, so I pick Savine up every day at noon. âThis is Reb. Sheâs my momâs friend this summer,â Savine tells her school friends. I gather that Jira does something similar every year, taking in an au pair while she works the summer.
There is a park Savine likes in particular, with the tall slides and the cold water fountains and all her friends. It takes me a few days to realize her friends are new to even her. Any child at the park becomes her friend by nature of needing two to play the teeter-totter. I meet parents and I practice my clumsy language with them. They donât stare strangely at me like the man in the plum aisle.
Three times over the summer, I hear a parent at the park ask me. âWho is Savit-e?â I point to Savine every time. I donât think too much about it, because they always like the answer, nodding along. Savineâs friends do not use the nickname, but I experiment with it here and there. Savine lights up when I do. âSavit-e,â I call to her from the school lawn, and she squeals and bounds forward to wrap me in the kind of hug she gives her mother.
I pick up a copy of the newspaper from the corner store every day on my way to pick up Savine, and I read what I can of it at the park. The newspaper is not a person, and it does not stilt its vocabulary to be simple and clear the way people do when they notice me struggling with the tongue, so oftentimes I gather just the concepts from articles. It is my fourth week of doing this when one article stops me. I see the spelling of what Jira says out loud so often.
Savit-e.
The article is hard, but I recognize the word for murder, and the words for three men. Three men murdered, and Savit-e. I would ask Savine, but Iâm afraid the article may be something upsetting.
I ask Jira that night, after Savine has gone to bed.
âA man killed three others,â Jira says, brow slightly scrunched as she skims the paper and distills its contents to simpler words I know. Her eye creases are deep by the evening lamplight. âHe is not charged with a crime, because he was protecting his Savit-e.â
This sinks in slowly, and a red flush of embarrassment makes itself known on my cheeks.
âSavit-e⊠as in âdaughterâ?â
I use my own word for it, since I donât know Jiraâs word for daughter. Or at least, I did not know, until now.
Jiraâs brow scrunch tightens, which she does whenever Iâve used one of my words she doesnât know.
âLike Savine is to you. Savine is your daughter.â
At this, Jira nods slowly, then more quickly as she lets the meaning sink in. âYes⊠Savine is my Savit-e⊠my daughter.â
I thank Jira for the explanation. I lie awake that night thinking too much about the parents at the park who think Savine is my Savit-e.
âŠ
I start to dislike the newspaper. Iâm not sure if itâs the summer heat sewing aggravation, or some deeper unrest, or maybe my own growing vocabulary, but more and more I notice articles that leave me unsettled. I read about the arrest of a man who looks like the man in the plum aisle. Maybe thereâs no resemblance at all. Maybe any man with those piercing eyes in a mug shot feels like the man in the plum aisle. There are still many words I donât know, but country and nation come up often. And Savit-e. More articles of someone acting in protection of their Savit-e.
My mother isnât here to protect me. I walk more cautiously when Iâm alone at night, as a woman, as a Savit-e with no parents here to protect me.
Iâm in the kitchen with a knife shunking through the angled cuts of scallion. The pot for the noodles is boiling and Iâve halved the spices as I do every night for Jira and Savine. I donât even hear the front door kick open.
I do hear Savine scream.
My heart is in my throat and my blood is cold, and I move, because in the moment I have forgotten I am a Savit-e far away from home. All that matters is Savineâs scream.
And my sockless feet are light as I snake through the dining room and round the corner to the living room, entering from the same door as the two men who now stand there, backs to me, both eagerly teasing the handles of a gun. One has Savine in a chokehold, and the men stare at Jira, pressed flat against the wall. I realize Jira does have a worry-face she reserves for the truly awful things.
And the men with their backs to me are plum-men, in ways I understand without knowing what fast and clipped words theyâre shouting at Jira. The one holding Savine presses the barrel of his gun against her ear, and the windchime titter of her earrings is drowned under her scream of fear. The plum man barks a demand at Jira, and she watches with moon-plate eyes.
He barks it again.
Jira raises a trembling hand. And her digits curl, and her palm pulls inward, and her earrings clink with the slow stuttering shake of her head. She points her index finger firmly against her own heart, and she declares âSavit-eâ.
Jira runs out through the second living room door.
âMooooom! Savit-e!!â Savine screams, and her words choke, and she wriggles under the hold of the man. And suddenly sense returns to my body at the sound of Savineâs screams.
I am still holding the scallion knife.
I donât remember what I do next, but the knife does.
âŠ
There is a drawl of radio static that seems to dominate my ears. The sirens and flashing lights are background noise to me now. Theyâve taken Savine away with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Theyâve assured me Iâll be able to see her, but later, once sheâs been looked at, once sheâs calmed down, once Iâve been spoken to.
âYou are not in trouble,â the detective tells me in my own tongue with a slight accent rounding her words. Sheâs the only one who speaks my language. They called her in when it became clear I didnât know enough of theirs to give a report. âYou were protecting your Savit-e.â
I flinch, a little bit, somehow still capable of embarrassment with a mind thatâs gone completely numb. âSavine isnât my Savit-e.â
The woman detective frowns. I remember weâre in my own tongue.
âI mean, sheâs not my daughter. Sheâs Jiraâs daughter. Sheâs Jiraâs Savit-e.â
The womanâs frown lessens some. âYour daughter, no. Your Savit-e, yes.â
I hold my hands near my face. They still smell of garlic and scallions. âThe potâs gonna boil over. I have to go turn off the stove,â I say, urgently, and unhelpfully, as the thought suddenly strikes and I push myself standing.
The womanâs hand is on my shoulder, and she presses me down. âThe pot is not boil. The stove is off. It is okay. Who is Savit-e?â
And the question sits weird. I realize she asks it like those parents at the park.
I donât answer. The detective chews her lip, and I see her eyes searching for a word she canât find. âWho is your⊠The Most? Who is your The Above? Who is your The Most of All?â
âMy most what?â
âWho is your Protect Over Everything?â
And from her face I can tell she is frustrated with her own words. There is more she is saying that I cannot know in my own language.
Protect Over Everything. I think about the scream that pulled me from the kitchen.
âI think⊠Savine⊠is my Protect Over Everything.â
And this satisfies the woman. And she nods the way the parents at the park do. âYou are not in trouble. You always protect Savit-e. You must always. There is no trouble for what you did. Good job, that you protect your Savit-e. You will have her back soon.â
I go stiff.
âJira needs her back, not me. I go home in a few weeks. I only startedââ I falter. âSavine is Jiraâs Savit-e.â
The detective shakes her head. âJira is Jiraâs Savit-e. Jira does not come back.â
âŠ
I postpone my flight home. I tell my mother itâs because my studies are going long. Iâll tell her more, later, when Iâm ready.
I pick up Savine every day from school as always. She doesnât smile, and she pulls me into a hug that is too tight and lasts too long. She doesnât want to go to the park. She comes grocery shopping with me, because itâs better than being left home alone. I look over my shoulder whenever I grab the plums.
I cook dinner and I eat with Savine, and we do this at the counter because when I sit us at the kitchen table, Savine looks too long at Jiraâs empty place. I tried calling Jira once, after Savine went to bed. Her phone rang from the next room. I watched it ring until it cut to voicemail.
Thereâs an article about me in the paper. I canât read most of it. Or maybe I just donât try to. I see Jiraâs name. I see the plum man words. I see Savit-e written 14 times.
I donât know what happens to Savine if I leave. Iâve tried asking and I get too many words I do not know, and no one who can explain them better to me. But their expressions stay with me. Like the looks of plum-men and worry-faces and now this new look, which is rooted in something deeper about a country which I know too little about. Itâs a sad look. Itâs something I can maybe understand without the words attached. I tell my mom I might like to extend my study through the fall.
Savine has started calling me âSavit-e.â
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LEE HEESEUNG ; ìŽíŹìč
â requested: yes!
â synopsis: running into your rival houseâs quidditch captain with your friends at hogsmeade wasnât exactly the way you planned to hard launch your relationship.Â
â word count:Â 2k
â genre: harry potter au, fluff, a bit of angst sorry i love angst
â pairing: gryffindor!heeseung x fem!slytherin!reader
â featuring: jake, sunghoon, jay, aespa yizhuo (ningning) and minjeong (winter), loona/loossemble yeojin and hyeju, txt huening kai
â warnings: cursing
â taglist: @llvrhee @lovelycassy
i. BUTTERBEER AND EXPOSURE
It was cold, to put things lightly.
It was the second week of December, about a week before the fall term at Hogwarts ended, and the winter season decided to make its presence known well this year with the chilly winds and white snow covering every surface imaginable. You were donned in a sweater, jeans, boots, a puffy coat, and a green scarf to accentuate your Slytherin pride. You werenât wearing gloves, and the frostbite that would soon be eating away at your hands was making you regret not deciding to wear a better outfit to Hogsmeade.
You were currently stood outside of Three Broomsticks with one of your best friends whoâs also the captain of the Slytherin quidditch team: Park Sunghoon. The two of you were waiting for some other close friends to join you at the tavern for some Butterbeer and unloading stress after the packed term.
Sunghoon watched you shove your hands into your pockets after trying to warm them up for the third time in the past minute; he laughed at your once-again failed attempt, rubbing his own (gloved) hands together, âYou really shouldâve brought gloves, Y/N.â
âYou really should mind your business.â You retorted, giving him a sour look. You looked at your watch, âWhatâs taking them so long, anyway?â
âI dunno, you know how Hyeju and Yizhuo get when Jay is running late,â he sighed, âbecause what I bet is that they left without him, like usual, and then they felt bad and went back for him, like usual.â
âYouâre definitely right,â you paused, âbut that doesnât mean we need to suffer in the cold for them. Canât we go inside?â
âNo,â Sunghoon laughed, âtheyâll be pissed and you know that.â
Your friend group, comprised solely of Slytherins, seemed to always have situations like these happen to it. Especially those consisting of Hyeju and Jay.
As if on cue, the echoes of the voices of the aforementioned Yizhuo, Hyeju, and Jay were heard in the distance. You playfully rolled your eyes at the three as they made their ways into your field of vision.
Hyeju ran ahead of the other two, clad in a puffy coat and fuzzy hat that made her look like a second year rather than a seventh year. Even running late, she was dressed more appropriately than you were.
âThere you guys are,â you huffed when they got closer, âweâve been waiting for like ten minutes. Itâs freezing.â
âMaybe you shouldâve dressed warmer,â Jay said, shrugging, âjust an idea. Wanna go inside?â
âI thought youâd never ask.â
The five of you entered the tavern, immediately met with a wave of warmth and the chatter and laughter of the fellow tavern-goers. The scent of Butterbeer and Rum enveloped your nose and made you smile without realizing. The warm lighting welcomed you into a table around the middle of the room. Â
A waiter soon found his way to your table, âGood evening, everyone. Do you all know what you want or should I give you a few minutes and then come back?â
âI think itâll just be a round full of Butterbeer, so long as thatâs okay with you.â Sunghoon motioned to the whole table, smiling at the waiter.
âOn it. Iâll be right back with those for you.â
Talk about school and classmates flowered easily into the conversation, mostly about Quidditch and your recent loss to Gryffindorâs team a weekend prior. Sunghoon wasnât pleased about the situation, and he especially made his disdain towards the Gryffindor Quidditch team captain, Jake Sim, known.
âItâs bloody stupid,â he nagged, âSim caught the Snitch at the worst time. We were up 20, and then of course the âGolden Boyâ had to sweep in and get the victory. God, I hate Gryffindor.â
Your friends all agreed with Sunghoon, but you kept quiet.Â
You were secretly dating Lee Heeseung, one of the Chasers on the Gryffindor team, and none of your friends knew. You had shown up to the match with them, clad in your Slytherin attire, cheering on Sunghoon. In the middle of the match, however, you feigned sickness, and told your friends you were going back to your room to rest. You roomed with Yizhuo, so you had to make sure that whenever you were done with fibbing to them, you had to beat her back to the housing.
What you were really doing was going back to the Slytherin common rooms to change into Gryffindor attire so you could cheer on your boyfriend. Luckily, the entire house was attending the match, so you had no worries about being caught in the Gryffindor wear. You snuck back to the match and found yourself with a few of Heeseungâs friends, Kai, Minjeong, and Yeojin.
Your friends still had no idea (you hoped) about what happened that day, and you intended to keep it that way. So, instead of speaking against their badmouthing, you just sat there in silence.
The waiter returned with your drinks and you wasted no time getting started on yours.
As if on cue, a voice cut through the noise that you would be able to recognize anywhere; it was Heeseung, accompanied by Jake, Yeojin, and Minjeong, who had just also walked into Three Broomsticks.
âSpeak of the Devil.â Sunghoon snarled at the presence of the four.
âIronic,â Hyeju laughed, âthatâs bloody ironic.â
The four Gryffindors sat themselves at a table not far from where you and your friends were sat, close enough to be in earshot despite the chatter of the tavern.
You knew Sunghoon was a lightweight, but you didnât think heâd be drunk (or ballsy) enough to already start conflict with the Gryffindors.
âAye, Sim,â he called, to which Jake whipped his head around to spot the voice. At the sight of Sunghoon, he rolled his eyes.
Heeseung had also turned his head, quickly scanning the group to look for you. His gaze softened when you locked eyes, but he quickly sent a glare to Sunghoon.
âWhat do you want, Park?â Jake asked, turning his body around to face your table. He laughed, âNot still caught on that Quidditch match, are you?â
âOh, yes, I am, actually. Some bloody sense of luck youâve got, I wouldnât be surprised if youâd cheated to win.âÂ
Jake rolled his eyes again, âMaybe weâre just better, Park. Ever think of that?â
âNo,â Sunghoon glared, âit has never been a thought in my mind, and it never will be. Because itâs just not true.â
âYou really think so? Because, if I recall correctly, one of your friends even came to cheer on Gryffindor. Some loyal housemates you have,â Jake said, âwonât even cheer on their own team because they know weâre better.â
Jakeâs eyes flashed towards your own for a split second, making you widen your eyes in an attempt to get him to stop talking.Â
âAs if,â Sunghoon commented. He looked at all of you, âbecause I saw them all there cheering for Slytherin.â
âClearly you werenât looking close enough.â
You saw Sunghoon furrow his eyebrows, to which he glanced back around the table. You swallowed briefly, hoping that he wouldnât notice your nervous look. You again widened your eyes at Jake, urging him to stop.
âWhatâs going onâŠ?â Sunghoon looked confused, and a bit hurt.
Yeojin grabbed Jakeâs shoulder, letting him know that he should probably let up and not let his pride get the best of him.
âCan someone please just explain whatâs going on?âÂ
The desperation in Sunghoonâs voice caused you to look over at Heeseung, who gave you a reassuring smile, almost telling you, âItâs okay, let them know if you want toâ.
You sighed and grabbed Sunghoonâs arm, forcing his attention towards you. His look melted from one of hurt and confusion to another of something indescribable.
âIâm sorry for keeping this a secret,â you started, âbut now that you know, I canât lie anymore.â
âDid you really go cheer on our rivals, Y/N?â Hyeju asked, looking at you with a hint of betrayal.
âI did. But I had a reason to,â you clarified, âbecause otherwise I would have never cheered on Gryffindor. No offense, Jake.â
Yizhuo stifled a laugh at the look that Jake gave you which was one of shock. It seemed like out of all your friends, she cared the least about the situation at hand. Jay and Sunghoon stayed quiet.
You stood up from your spot and walked over to behind Heeseung and placed a hand on his shoulder. You sent your best friends a slightly apologetic look, but started, âI cheered on Gryffindor because IâŠâ
You trailed off. This was a lot harder than youâd anticipated. You started again, âIâm dating Lee Heeseung. Heâs a Chaser, and Iâd gone to every other match to cheer him on. Sunghoon, Iâm really sorry about lying. It wasnât fair to you guys.â
âYou have a boyfriend?â Jay questioned, finally breaking his silence. He laughed, âGod, I thought you were going to die alone. This is great news, actually.â
Yizhuo and Hyeju laughed, and the tension seemed to ease at the joke. Even Jake cracked a smile.Â
But Sunghoon still didnât say anything.
You returned to your seat which was next to him. He barely acknowledged your presence.
âDo you wanna talk?â You asked. You looked at him, âWe can go outside.â
Sunghoon vaguely nodded and stood up to lead you outside into the cold. Once outside, he sighed.
âIâm really sorry, Sunghoon. I shouldâve been there to cheer you on,â you said, âI wasnât being a very good friend.â
âItâs not even about that, Y/N.â He spoke, frustrated, yet seemingly more calm than earlier, âWhy did it have to be a Gryffindor of all houses? Our rival house? Really?â
âI know, Iâm sorryâŠâ you apologized, âbut it just kind of happened. Honestly, I am sorry for lying to you all for so long. But Iâm the happiest Iâve been.â
âWhen did you start seeing him?â
Heeseung stepped out of the door right before Sunghoon started his sentence, and answered the question for you:
âWeâve been together since April.â
âApril? Y/N, thatâs a long time.â Sunghoon said exasperated.
âI know,â you said, watching Heeseung make his way to stand behind you. You brought your attention back to Sunghoon, âbut you always talk so lowly of Gryffindors. I didnât want you to feel betrayed.â
âIâm more upset that you felt the need to lie to us for so long, Y/N,â he huffed, âIâm really happy that youâre happy. But weâre your best friends, why didnât you feel like you could trust us with knowing this?â
Heeseung wrapped his arms around your shoulders to preserve heat. Sunghoonâs gaze softened at your smile towards Heeseung.
âIâm happy for you,â Sunghoon said, âI really am. Iâm sorry we had to find out like this, my pride got the better of me during the argument.â
âI forgive you, and Iâm sorry for lying to you.â
âItâs okay, we know now, and thatâs what matters,â Sunghoon replied, âat least youâre not dating Sim. Thatâs what really matters.â
You laughed at him.
âIâm gonna go back inside,â he told you, âand maybe try to make friends so that things arenât weird,â he stopped, looking at Heeseung, âbut you better treat her well. I have no problem being anti-Gryffindor again.â
Heeseung laughed nervously as Sunghoon entered the tavern again. You turned around in his embrace, craning your neck to look at him.Â
âSo,â you started.
âSo?â He questioned, raising an eyebrow at you and breaking into a smile.
âIâm sorry.â
âWhy are you sorry, angel? You did nothing wrong. Itâs better that they found out eventually, but I should be sorry for not keeping Jake in check.â
âYouâre okay,â you reassured, wrapping your arms around him. You pressed your cheek against his chest, âIâm happy they know. Sunghoon will get over the loss.â
âHopefully.â
You looked up to notice the snowfall that had started falling on Heeseungâs brown locks. You pressed yourself closer to him for warmth.
âMaybe they could even become friends.â You suggested.
âI hope they can become friends: Jake and Sunghoon. I feel like theyâd click.â
Peeking into the window of the tavern, you noticed how your friends and Heeseungâs had conjoined into one table.Â
You let your face break out into a relaxed smile, âMaybe.â
a/n : this was so fun to write i canât wait to get to other reqs
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Medieval Fantasy
Pairing: Witcher!Geralt x Reader
Summary: The offerings at this hotel, I swear.
Word Count: 5.1K
Warnings: 18+, NO MINORS, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving, 69), p in v (cowgirl, missionary), monster fucking (right?).
A/N: I suppose, strictly speaking we're not fucking the monster, but he's still a treat, so enjoy!
A/N 2: (Edited) I do owe @augustsprincess a little thank your for an idea; I played it out during the group chat here, but I probably wouldn't have included it at all if not for you, so *smooches*
Fantasy Hotel Masterlist
Mike ordered a pizza from room service for the last hour of your reservation with him once he flipped the time switch. You sat cross-legged on the couch with him, munching happily while he narrated the ridiculousness of the rest of the scenes to your scary movie, making you giggle where youâd normally be hiding behind a blanket. Youâd remember this night fondly for a long time. Mikeâs easy going way had put you completely at ease once he noticed you were a little hung up on Walt.
He unfortunately didnât know anything about how to get a hold of your missing object of desire.
You set the scene for the story pretty much as it was, but added more spook and gore, opting to split up the experience into two nights. One with live Mike, just barely slipping out the window before the parents came home from their Halloween night costume parties, only to be killed by the tow truck driver who showed up when his car, parked around the corner from the house, wouldnât start. He was hung on the hook that should have hoisted his beater onto the truck. And one a few weeks later, when the heavy drag of the chains and hook across the attic floor led the heroine to investigate, only to be taken swiftly and with no mercy by her incorporeal boyfriend. Not rough, just urgent, insistent, longing for some other connection that would allow him to leave the vicinity of his undoing. If he could have taken her outside on the sidewalk without prying neighbor eyes, he probably would have.
You put the notice up after you posted. The next would be your last regular monster fucking post. You were taking a hiatus to work on your first novel.
sendmeanangel: and then Walter burst through the window, all wolfed out
darkgothnightengale: while they were both fucking you???
sendmeanangel: yeah, and i can only think my subconscious was trying to not kill me when it chose August and Mike for that experience. I canât imagine having anything else inside me while getting fucked by the Bull
MNstrluvr: i would kill for a dream like that
darkgothnightengale: well, did he take you away?
sendmeanangel: i woke up!!!
darkgothnightengale: and still no luck finding him?
sendmeanangel: no. i found a guy who seemed like him, but heâs in Minnesota. Or was. Itâs like his online presence is either non-existent or ended abruptly at least ten years ago
MNstrluvr: another ghost lol!
sendmeanangel: very funny. Mike was a lot of fun anyway. I needed that
darkgothnightengale: and youâre still going back?
sendmeanangel: iâve never heard of a witcher. He just showed up on the site the other week and i bet heâs softer than he looks. I booked him at the same time i booked Mike, so itâs already scheduled and i could do with one more amazing adventure before i give it all up
darkgothnightengale: i still donât understand why. If you donât have walter, whatâs the harm?
sendmeanangel: thereâs no harm. Obviously iâm free to do what i want. But i think about him all the time. And i just think maybe itâs time for a break
MNstrluvr: when you find him you should see if heâs up for booking a room with you so you can recreate that dream
sendmeanangel: oh my goddddd!Â
âWe certainly hope you havenât been displeased with your experiences here,â the desk clerk asked gently.
âWhat? No! Everythingâs been wonderful. Why do you ask?â you inquired, at a loss for what may have precipitated the comment.
âWe noticed you hadnât made another future booking yet.â
âOh, that,â you stammered. âI justâŠno, everythingâs fine.â You fingered the edges of the card stock bearing the elevator code to get you to L2 and tightened your grip on your bag reflexively. Just a trick you used to bring you back to steady.Â
âWell, please. If thereâs anything at all we can do for youâŠâ You smiled and cast your eyes down so as not to betray your true feelings, but glanced up quickly to try to judge the meaning behind the next statement made with a hint of weightiness. âAnything at all.â
âThank you,â you offered. âIâll keep that in mind.â
The elevator opened to a small wooden hut, a place for your belongings and coat, a small wash basin filled with still steaming water and fragrant scents set on a wooden stand. You disrobed, dipped a washcloth in the water, and bathed yourself with the enchanting smells, then grabbed a linen towel to dry off before climbing into the outfit youâd selected for the fantasy. You slipped the silver dagger into the holster youâd strapped to your thigh and dropped your heavy skirt down over it before wrapping the cloak around your shoulders.
You had no idea what you were walking out into, only that if things got too hairy, as they absolutely could, heâd be there to save you. There to comfort you.Â
You stepped out onto a wooded path leading to a trail along a marshy bog, mostly full moon shining in the sky above you. You were never going to get over the mechanics of this hotel that made it seem like you were in at least five distinctly different places, some of which were outside, while still housed in the same building. But you were solidly on the side of possibility. Monsters were real. Magic was real. This hotel was real.
You carried a small basket of goods, as if headed to a market or maybe home from one. The path ahead of you seemed less than ideal and you began to wonder if youâd made a wrong turn. The churning and bubbling of the bog was lost on you as you looked around for another path that might lead to more solid ground, grateful for the light of the moon since a flashlight app was absolutely not happening, as your phone was left back in the hut.
Suddenly, a loud shriek sounded from the liquid and a large figure began to emerge, long twig-like legs reaching into the space above it as if searching for something. You dropped your basket and ran as soon as it became obvious the thing it was searching for was you. A momentâs respite allowed you to reach under your skirt and grab the dagger before you resumed fleeing away from the monster but suddenly a creepy crawly leg swept around you and it was all you could do to jump out of the way.
You stumbled when you hit the ground, but landed on your back, which meant you could stab up at whatever was coming at you and you did. The blade wasnât long enough to do full damage, but some gore dripped down your arm as you registered a little casualty point and you pulled back and stabbed again as quick as you could, completely unconcerned with whatever came oozing out. It had to be better than being dead, you thought.
You heard another roar and the distinct slice of a finely crafted blade through the air and the legs that had you trapped were suddenly no longer attached to the larger body that was stalking you. It gave you time to move, scramble out of the way and find a spot to regroup. From behind the boulder you saw him. Leather clad, silver hair flowing, steel blade drawn and hacking through more limbs. As he spun for another attack, you glimpsed his dark eyes and shimmery, pale skin.
It was maybe not the time, but his ass looked great too.Â
âLittle help,â the strained call came, as he flipped the beast over, tackling what you took to be the lower extremities. A smooth patch on the chest seemed like it was made for stabbing so you climbed onto the rock and jumped, landing right on top of the beast with your tiny blade finding a home in the furry goo.Â
One final, ear-splitting shriek and the deed was done. Your compadre stood and held out a hand to help you up and off the steadily shrinking body of the buggy creature youâd just slayed. You felt your feet touch solid ground as you looked up at the mountain of a man who stood before you.
âAlright?â he asked. âI think you got âim, but we should head out in case there are more. I donât think tonight is the right time for this. Weâll come back tomorrow and finish the job.â
âWhat job?â
âOkay, sure. This wasnât why you were walking alone late at night in a Krak infested bog? Are you telling me you werenât hired to clear the area?â
âNo?â you answered, unsure what the words coming out of his mouth meant. Was this what a witcher did?
âWere you hired for anything?â
âIâm really not sure what you mean.â You had to find a way to talk to this man coherently. You remembered your basket. âI was just walking back to town from a market. I think I got a little lost.â
âI think you got a lot lost. Can I help you find your way back? Iâm Geralt.â His black eyes were ringed with dark circles, but in the moonlight, those looked like they were fading slowly.
You offered your name and a hand, which he shook, and you felt a line of heat rush straight through your arm, down your chest, and into your core. You gasped as the last of the shadows over his face and eyes dissipated, leaving you staring into amber eyes full of flame. The memory of lights piercing the shadows the other night flooded your brain. What if that wasnât Walter, as you suspected? But no; the howling.
Geralt helped you locate your discarded basket, into which you stuffed your goo-covered corset and cape, eager to be free from the stench and hoping desperately that dry cleaning would do the trick when you were home. You mounted his horse, Roach, with his assistance and he led you into town. He made a beeline straight for an inn, dropping you off at the entrance with instructions to ask about lodging while he found boarding for his horse for the night.
âOi! Youâre late!â an oversized brute behind the bar exclaimed in your direction as you entered the tavern and you froze, unsure what part of the fantasy this could be. âHave ya lost control of yer legs suddenly? Bring the goods here. Now!â
You looked down at the basket with a realization that was confirmed by another shout.
âYes. That. The basket. Now!â
You were about to begin the trek across the wooden floor to hand off your basket to the foul looking man, when a pair of comforting hands came to rest on your upper arms, holding you firmly in place.
âI think you have the wrong merchant. This basket of goods is mine,â Geraltâs deep and soothing voice growled. âAnd we require rooms for the night.â
Rooms? Was this not happening?
âAlmost full tonight, Witcher. Only one room left.â You stifled a snort at the cliche of it all.
âWeâll take it. And Iâd venture to say youâll want to provide a meal and round on the house. At least one of your swamp monsters is already dead thanks to this one.â Geralt stepped you into the tavern and over to the bar where a key dangled from the innkeeper's hand.
âShe took out a Krak?â
âPractically single-handedly.â There was something like pride in Geraltâs voice, and maybe a little admiration, though you definitely didn't handle that on your own. Still, you grabbed the key with a smirk and turned to find an empty table. Geralt followed once heâd grabbed two tankards of ale, and two plates of stew with bread were set down in front of you after a few moments of awkward silence, during which you took in the clientele. How was the hotel paying all these extras?
âWolf!â someone called from the entrance and for a moment you thought theyâd seen Walter. You looked around, but found nothing other than another sizable man clad in leather and steel making his way to your table.
âLambert,â Geralt acknowledged him, and introduced you. âWhat brings you tonight?â
âJust finished up a town over and heard of another job. Looks like youâve already taken it on. Finished so soon?â
âHardly started. First killâs hers anyhow.â Geralt nodded with what appeared to be reverence in your direction.
âBeginnerâs luck,â you demurred. âI donât think a small dagger is going to be of much use with the rest of whatever those were.â
âLooks like Iâll be headed out at first light alone then, to complete the task,â Geralt mumbled, with a comforting look at you before turning attention back to Lambert. âIâd welcome your assistance with this one.â
A barmaid approached to set another tankard of ale in front of your new red-headed table mate and you didnât miss the way her hand traced over his shoulder and her eyes met his as she walked back toward the counter to continue serving other customers.
âItâs a good thing youâve found your bed for the night, since weâve just taken the last one,â Geralt grumbled with a hint of tease.Â
âUnless you need my assistance with anything else?â Lambertâs tone was clear and they both turned their gazes slowly toward you.Â
It was a choice. You hadnât asked for this, but you were being offered an option. Heat filled your cheeks and you cast your eyes down with a sudden shyness. Though two entirely different men, your dream from the other night was somehow presented to you on a platter, and yetâŠ
âI donât think Iâm anything Geralt canât handle on his own,â you replied, aware this was your call and no one else's.
With the sleeping arrangements out of the way, you spent the next hour or so enjoying stories of training and fighting. If your ears didnât deceive you, several of their completed jobs seemed to include gratitude delivered by way of sexual favors, sometimes alone, sometimes together. They were cheeky and sly with the language, but the innuendos were there and you couldnât stop yourself from thinking about it.Â
You waived off another round of ale and professed youâd much rather find a tub of warm water to sink into for a bit. Geralt agreed and you both said your goodnights to Lambert.
Settled into the room, you were surprised to find there really was a wooden tub full of tepid water. A large cauldron hung over a roaring fire and you watched as Geralt used a rudimentary crane-like contraption to hoist the pot over the tub and dump its boiling contents into the water below.
âItâll warm the water for a bit, so you should take advantage now, if you were serious.â
âIt doesnât look like thereâs room for both of us,â you mentioned with a little sadness.
âWe can take turns, just donât stay in too long,â he replied with a mischievous smirk. âDo you need any help with your garments?â
With your corset already removed, all that remained was to unlace the heavy woolen skirt and lift the flowing linen gown underneath it over your head. Geralt was a huge help nevertheless and your body shivered as you imagined his fingers tracing every inch of you, not just your waist or the lucky bits of leg that received his touch as he bent to grab the hem of your dress.
He held your hand as you stepped into the tub and sat down, knees bent against your chest. How would he ever manage to fit himself in here? you thought. While you swirled the water around you, you watched as he turned away to unbuckle his leathers and disrobe as well. You were right about his ass.Â
You smiled a little to yourself at how comfortable getting naked with him was and then you smiled wider when he turned to face you once again, approaching you in all his glory and settling down onto a stool next to the tub with a washcloth in his hand.
Geralt offered to help you wash off, then dunked his hand into the water when you accepted. He ran the soft rag along your back, down your arms, across your chest. He took a few moments to run the soaked cloth along his body as well when the water began to cool much faster than youâd hoped, leaving no opportunity for him to sit in the tub himself. When he âdroppedâ the rag while dipping it back in the water for another pass, he didnât hesitate to reach deeper into the tub, fingers searching the bottom for the cloth but finding your bottom instead. He leaned forward to complete the kiss you had asked for with a lick of your lips and smiled into your gasp when his fingers made their way between your legs.
âYou know,â he started after pulling away from your hungry mouth, âI do feel as if I owe you a bit of gratitude myself.â
âWhy, whatever do you mean, Geralt?â you gently taunted with a fake bit of naivete.
âYou were the hero tonight. You deserve a reward.â He stood from the stool, exposing his hardening length, and helped you to stand.
âAnd will you be my reward?â you purred, clasping your arms around his neck as he lifted you out of the tub.
âGladly,â he replied, slipping his hands eagerly down your side body and around your thighs to wrap your legs around his waist. He captured your mouth again with a searing kiss as he walked toward the bed and deposited you on your back, legs splayed wide and waiting for him.
âMaybe you could finish what you started.â
He dove to the bed next to you and cupped your cunt with a rather large hand.
âThis is just the beginning,â he promised as he bent two fingers and slipped them inside. He watched your face with intent as he pumped his fingers in and out, teasing more and more slick from deep inside you. He kissed you when he added a third finger, swallowing the moan that ripped from your throat.Â
You couldnât control your hips if you wanted to, bucking up into his hand, trying to pull him in deeper, trying to find the grind that would let you explode. His lips on your jawline, his tongue on your neck, kisses on your collarbone before he nuzzled into you and whispered how good you fucking smelled from here already. All these words of praise and touches of desire sent you right over the edge with an urgent need to crawl back up and do it again.
He must have been expecting you to take some time to recover because he was off guard when you pushed at his shoulder and sent him to his back so you could sit up and swing your legs over his. Settled on his thighs with an eye toward his very large erection, you smiled and made clear your intentions.
âI want you, Geralt. All of you.â
âHowever youâd like,â he grinned back, one arm tucked behind his head and the other reaching to stroke himself.Â
âFuuuuuuuhhhck,â you moaned, watching how he handled himself, sure saliva was probably dripping from the side of your mouth. âKinda like that.â
You scooted back down his legs and leaned forward, eager to let him feed you the cock he was keeping hard for you. As with every other host, it was going to be impossible to take him all the way, but you were going to give your best effort on the parts you could reach. His hand motion shortened as your mouth took over servicing the head and a few inches of length. You let your tongue swirl around the tip and dripped saliva from your mouth to give both of you something to slide over.Â
Your pussy was still yearning for touch and since you didnât need your own hands for the blowjob, you let one travel down your body and between your legs to trace along your folds. You rubbed two fingers over your sensitive clit, curling to dip them into your warm, wet opening a few times before returning to focus attention at the nub.Â
âI can help with that, if youâd like,â Geralt grunted breathlessly, the arm behind his neck reaching now for your body, prodding you to turn. While you continued to lave over Geraltâs prodigious member, you crawled around to find your knees on either side of his head and when you felt his hand smooth over your ass, you didnât resist the pull. Â
You moaned around the cock in your throat while Geralt wrapped his lips around your pussy and licked his way into your slit. Eventually, he let go of his dick and wrapped both hands around your thighs, holding you close against his face and lapping in tandem with the bob of your head.
On more than one occasion you found you could not concentrate effectively on the head you were giving, since the head you were receiving was so mind blowing. You found you had to lift your mouth off his cock and beg for more, scream for him to make you come. When he did, you were able to return to pleasuring him, since he didnât seem to be in any kind of hurry to move you away. Instead, it was as if he were playing a game called âhow many times can you come on this tongue.â
It became abundantly clear that you were never going to be able to return the favor. Geralt was not interested in coming down your throat, so when you felt like you couldnât handle one more tender lick, one more urgent suckle, one more flick of the tip of his tongue on your sensitive pearl, you begged off. Pleaded for mercy.
âIâm not done,â he called from the other end of the bed. âI still owe you my gratitude.â
You peeled yourself reluctantly away from his cock and eased yourself around again, to lay alongside him, chest heaving and thighs shaking.
âI canât fathom how one Krak deserves more than youâve already given, but Iâll gladly take it, if only youâll let me rest a moment.â You draped an arm over his chest and drifted your fingers through the dusting of hair you found.Â
âPerhaps some water?â he offered, reaching for a cup and the pitcher by the bedside. You shared the cool liquid, quenching one thirst while another still burned hot and needy.Â
âHow long can you last? Surely Iâm not that bad at oral.â
His laugh was so bright, it was as if the room was suddenly aglow.
âYou are excellent at that. I just have a lot of practice not letting go until Iâm sure my partner has reached the absolute peak. Itâs a point of pride.â
He wasnât arrogant about it, just matter of fact. He was here to serve.Â
âWhat if we simply waited until you were ready again? Surely that wouldnât take forever.â You trailed your fingers down his chest, through the patch of hair at his abdomen, and onto his still rock hard length. Feeling how firm he was, letting your hand trace the veins, your thumb nudging the helmet of the head, you couldnât help but be hungry for him again.
You found yourself straddling his thighs once more, eyeing his cock, begging for him to fuck you now.
âDo they have condoms in this time, wherever we are?â If an ancient Greek labyrinth had condoms, surely this medieval inn had them, too. You were still in the hotel after all. He chuckled and nodded toward the nightstand, where you found a plain wooden box that revealed what you were after when opened.
Geralt made to take the packet from you, but you resisted. âAllow me, please.â
You tore open the package and worked the rubber onto the tip, then rolled the sides down and checked the fit. You let him make a final adjustment, but when he leaned up as if to roll you over, you protested.
âIâm good right here,â you purred, grabbing ahold of his sheathed cock and lifting up to position yourself right above him. You set him at your entrance, still dripping from your several orgasms, and lowered yourself good and slow. You were getting used to the size of these men, but that didnât mean the start didnât require some care.
Your eyes closed almost involuntarily once youâd taken him to the hilt and you sat motionless for a moment, feeling your core loosen around him. You began a steady pulse, up and down, as you opened your eyes to see him staring up at you with desire. He rested his hands on your hips, neither speeding you up nor slowing you down, just feeling the motion, feeling you.Â
After a few more strokes, you grabbed his hands and slid them up your body, pressing the palms of his hands against your breasts and tossing your head back at the sensation. He was more than willing to continue cupping and squeezing without your guidance which allowed you to set your hands on his thighs behind you, providing even more leverage for your rise and fall. Now you sped up.Â
âFuck, Geralt, this feels so good,â you cried out.
âI can make it better,â he countered, slipping his hands around your ribs and pulling you forward, chest to chest as he captured your lips once more. With his hands firmly holding your head in place, he began to buck up into you and when it seemed like it was going to be to much, he let his hands drift down your back and onto your hips again, to hold you place while he set a punishing pace, thrusting ever harder and deeper into your pulsing core until he finally exploded with a roar. It wasnât your peak, but you werenât complaining in the least. Heâd fucked you through several tiny orgasms, each ebbing and flowing with ease. If there was nothing more, no additional gratitude the rest of the night, youâd be just fine.
But he was having none of it. He lifted you off and laid you to the side, urging you back against the head of the bed and lifting the covers for you to climb under. Once you were comfy, he left the bed to deal with the condom removal, grabbing an apple and knife from his bag on the way back. You sat and conversed while he fed you thin slices of sweet fruit, taking his own bites after every third for you.
Geralt was easy to talk to. Not overly wordy, but happy to chat nonetheless. Although you wanted to ask questions about the hotel, you knew it would be wildly inappropriate so you stuck with the script for the scene. What would it take to clear the rest of the Kraks? How dangerous would it have been had he gone alone? Whatâs the most danger heâd ever gotten into? The most fun? How often, exactly, had he and Lambert been thanked simultaneously?
That question was designed to reignite the passion in the room. You werenât disappointed. The mere telling of the experiences got him rock hard again and it was with delight that you let him take the lead the rest of the evening. Once heâd donned another condom after feasting on your pussy one more time, he took you on your back, legs wrapped around his waist so he could grab at them when he needed to open you wider or lift your leg over his shoulder to find that one final deep spot that had you panting his name and coming hard around him. He took one more lingering kiss, then pulled out and tidied up, joining you back under the covers for a final round of pillow talk before turning in for the night.
Somehow, with the knowledge that the physical part of the evening was over, the air in the room changed and the conversation did as well. He wasnât overly concerned with keeping the topics to the scene, but you found yourself second guessing if you should ask anything at all about Walter. It seemed rude, even though Mike had been completely open about it. This stay wasnât that one.Â
Youâd booked an overnight and Geralt hadnât needed to bend time for you, if that was even something he could do, so you had no direct in with a question about his possible gifts. You could maybe ask why Lambert had called him Wolf, since they were both from the same school. But in the end it was Geralt who brought up Walter, without realizing what he was doing.
âI lucked into this spot. The hotel had just lost one of their best hosts, and the guy was booked solid weeks out. Theyâre still trying to find another werewolf to take his room, but in the meantime they contacted me and set up this level.â
âHow did they find out about you?â you asked, trying to keep your heart rate from spiking at the hint of information about Walter.
âThe way they find out about any of us, I suppose. Word of mouth.â
âDo you know what happened to him? The guy before you?â You didnât think you were holding your breath, but Geraltâs answer told you otherwise.
âNot a clue. I try not to get caught up in the gossip. Hey, are you alright? You look like youâre about to faint. Thatâs a real skill since youâre already laying down.â
You tried to take a breath and laugh it off at the same time, asking your next question with a feigned indifference. âThereâs gossip in this hotel?â
Geraltâs laugh was infectious. âThereâs gossip at every hotel, but this one's something else. I think the vampire is the ring leader. I try to stay away from it. Keep my head down. Take care of my guests. And I shouldn't have even said that. Please forgive me.â
It was obvious he wasn't going to give up much more information, if he even knew anything specific to begin with. You tried to stifle a yawn, but Geralt noticed and stood up to blow out the candles illuminating the room, leaving one small oil lamp burning. When he returned to bed, you curled up into his warmth. You felt a little bad about imagining it was Walt you were snuggled next to, but it didnât stop you from drifting asleep with a smile on your face.
You opened your messaging app as you were about to step out of the cafe where youâd gone for a latte the next morning after dropping your bag at home.
sendmeanangel: youâll never guess who showed up to get coffee this morningÂ
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Itâs 1979, and every day, Barb wears a dark purple bracelet around her wrist. Itâs pretty, although a bit more basic than what Nancy would normally wearâjust a simple band of woven fabric, and a little star charm dangling from the middle.
âWhereâd you get it?â Nancy asks her one day out of the blue. She does that sometimesâasks people things without any lead up. Her mom tells her sheâs inquisitive. Her dad just says she asks too many questions.
Barb never seems to mind. Over the last few weeks of getting to know each other, thereâs never been a question that Barb isnât happy to answer.
This one seems to make her sad, though. She holds her arm up and twists her wrist a little, watching the charm catch the light.
âItâs a friendship bracelet,â she says. Nancy is old enough to recognize the twinge of jealousy for what it is, but she isnât quite old enough to understand why itâs there.
âWith who?â she asks anyway.
This time Barb does hesitate. She looks around the middle school cafeteria, but theyâre the only ones sitting at this end of the table, and the buzz of students is loud enough no one can really hear them even if they decide to pay them any mind. Not that they ever would. Nancy and Barb tend to fly under the radar.
âYou know Robin Buckley?â Barb says, lowering her voice.
Nancy shrugs. Sheâs heard the name. Itâs a small school, after all.
âShe has the other one,â says Barb. âMy parents took us to Indianapolis a few summers back. A lady at the mall was making them. I got purple for her favorite color. She has pink for mine.â
âAnd the star?â Nancy asks. She reaches out without really thinking about it, holding the little charm in her fingertips.
Barb smiles. âWe used to stay out in the park for hours after dark, watching the stars. She knows all the constellations, and a bunch of old stories about them. She knows a ton of stuff like that. Sheâs pretty cool.â
âYou guys donât hang out anymore,â Nancy feels the need to point out. But Barb just shrugs.
âYeah. We had all different classes last year, and I guess we just drifted apart. I say hi when I see her in the halls sometimes, but we justâŠdonât really talk anymore.â
âOh.â Nancy lets the charm go. Barb lowers her arm and picks up her fork again. âWe could get friendship bracelets.â
Barbâs eyes light up. âI saw some charms and stuff at Melvaldâs the other day. We could make some!â
âLetâs do it,â Nancy decides. âWhen you spend the night Friday, weâll ask Mom to take us to Melvaldâs.â
âDeal.â
-
Itâs 1983, and Nancy has a pink braceletâwith a pen charm, not a starâthat she keeps in a shoebox of all of Barbâs things.
She only pulls it out and looks at it when she knows itâs a bad idea; when sheâs already one bad thought away from breaking, and she holes herself up in her room so she can push herself recklessly over the edge.
She takes the bracelet in her hands and runs her fingers over the soft, time-worn threads. Pink for Barbâs favorite color. Barb had a soft, sky blue for hers. She thinks about that bracelet, dangling around Barbâs wrist while she drove them to Steveâs house, tied to her still, soaked in blood and rot as she decays in the Upside Down.
Nancy tucks the bracelet into her pocket. If Barbâs association with Nancy led her to her death, then Nancyâs association with Barb can mark her until the day she dies.
-
Itâs 1985, and when a new girl walks up with Steve, Dustin, and Erica, looking terrified and in shock, the first thing Nancy sees is a pink bracelet around her wrist.
âIâm sorry, who are you?â Nancy asks.
âIâm Robin, I work with Steve.â
But thatâs not the answer. Sheâs not Robin who works with Steve. Sheâs Robin who carries stories of the constellations in her head and memories of Barb on her wrist. Robin, with a pink bracelet and a star charm that, quite frankly, looks ridiculous among the leather bands and thick rings she wears.
The group sits down once theyâre finally all together. They exchange stories and make a plan, and all the while, Robin sits off to the side, on her own.
Nancy thinks about Barb sitting on her own by Steveâs pool, her gaze turned down and her shoulders stiff around her ears. She watches Robin curl up and hug her knees to her chest, and that damn pink bracelet is all she can see.
-
Itâs 1986, and Robin complains every step of the way as Nancy wrangles her into a blouse and skirt.
âYou should lose the rings,â Nancy tells her. âTheyâre unprofessional.â
âGee, thanks,â Robin mutters.
âYou can borrow some of mine if you still want to wear them.â
âNo, itâs fine.â She pulls the rings off one by one, dropping them onto Nancyâs desk with small, satisfying clunks. She shakes out her hands when sheâs done, and Nancy watches that star charm bounce back and forth along its soft pink band.
Robin notices her looking. She covers the bracelet with her hand and scowls.
âThe bracelet stays. Iâm not taking it off.â
âThatâthatâs fine.â Nancy thinks she should say something elseâsheâs not sure how theyâve gone this far without talking about itâbut she canât stop staring at it.
Robinâs shoulders slump. Her grip on the bracelet shifts and she runs her fingers over the charm, her expression turning sad.
âSorry,â she says softly. âI justâI got this because ofââ
âBarb.â
Robin meets her eyes.
âShe told me,â Nancy says. âSheâshe still wore yours.â
And for the first time, it occurs to her that Barb was wearing a purple bracelet that night, too. That there has always been a part of Robin Buckley rotting in the Upside Down along with her, along with Nancy.
Maybe they were all doomed, intertwined, forsaken from the start.
âA purple bracelet,â Nancy says. âAnd a star charm. Because you liked watching the stars together. She said you knew all the constellations. She saidââ
Robinâs arms are around her the second her voice breaks. She hugs her close, and Nancy swears she can feel that star charm pressing through her shirt.
-
Itâs 1989, and Robin is moving box after box from her house with Steve into Nancyâs apartment.
It takes all day to get her clothes in the closet and her desk into the second bedroom theyâll use as an office and her frankly excessive collection of tapes onto the bookshelf in the living room. By the time dinner rolls around, theyâve both decided everything else is a job for tomorrow, or the day after, or next week.
But before they go to bed that night, Robin digs through a box of photo albums and picture frames to pull out a small, black shadowbox. She holds it carefully in her hands and walks over to where Nancy stands by the bookshelf. Nancy takes it from her with a soft, sad smile and reaches up to place it on the shelf. She feels Robinâs hand on her waist, and she steps back to tuck herself into her side.
They both look up at two pink bracelets, a pen charm and a star charm, hanging safely side by side.
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đșđđșđđœđ & đđŸđșđđ đđŸđœđșđ
đ â đŒđșđ
đđ đđđđœ
Calum Hood x Famous!Reader
Summary: Requested! After 4 years of agreed no contact, one phone call and song takes back all that you've worked for.
Warnings: Mild Cursing, Slight of Explicit Content.
Word Count: 1k (not rlly proofread lol)
Copyright © 2023 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
.·:*šàŒș àŒ»Âš*:·..·:*šàŒș àŒ»Âš*:·..·:*šàŒș àŒ»Âš*:·..·:*šàŒș àŒ»
"So, Y/n tell us more about Calum Hood"
A name I hadn't heard in exactly 4 years to the very date.
48 months, 1461 days, and 35040 excruciating long fucking hours.
My face immediately lights up at the name nevertheless, brushing my hair behind my ear nervously,
"Hood? I'm not quite sure what this has to do with my upcoming EP coming out at midnight", I breathlessly laugh out, my eyes locking with the interviewer in front of me. My new work titled, "Bittersweet" was launching at midnight, only containing 4 songs to go along with the 4 bittersweet years I've spent away from him. It was hopeless of me to write about him, but he was the only source of inspiration I could find.
"Well you two had a bit of chemistry as far as we know, is that right?"
Sure we did. We spent over 6 years together on and off, but always came back to each other. He was my rock, my everything, but ultimately we knew it wasn't going to work out.
"Sure we did, I mean it was nothing but a mere innocent crush", I cross my legs now, my shaky hands clasped on top of my knees. The crowd was silent as excited fans packed into the small room to hear the soft launch before midnight.
"Well it was surely more than innocent", she motions to the screen next to us. "This picture was taken four years ago in Bali during the second leg of their tour", I mentally roll my eyes but smile anyway. A few people from the crowd squealed as the iconic picture of us in cuddled up on the beach was displayed, the same one he posted himself as an excuse to have me on his page.
"Like I said- It was a small crush" I was trying to convince myself more than everyone else.
I watch as the slideshow continues on, the screen filled with every single moment in time that Calum and I were spotted together across the world. A few innocent ones of us walking next to each other, to one taken on the balcony of a hotel. We were just kids who didn't know what they were doing- lost in the moment together. He will always have a place in my heart. When things ultimately ended, we both agreed to never speak again- it was only weighing each other down.
"Well I thank you for your time, I hope everyone enjoys the album and finds some comfort in the chaos", I stand up abruptly, extending my hand to shake the interviewer's hand. The crowd cheered quietly as I walked off the stage with a slight wave. I needed to get out of here, I felt like a complete idiot working myself up over someone that I no longer talked to.
I slipped past the stage crew as I shuffled out past the backdoors and towards the parking lot, my fingers fumbling with my keys as I tore my driver's door open and plopped down dramatically. The door shut behind me and I sighed to myself loudly,
That was fucking ridiculous, they didn't even ask anything about me. Just about someone I never wanted to mention. Of course, I could talk about him until the end of time, but it wasn't my place to do so anymore. He was playing sold-out shows every other day and had no worry about a girl back home who happened to have matching tattoos with him, right? The tattoo we shared was of a small flower underneath our ribs, the same flower he gave me on our one-year "situationshipversary" as he called it. It was a silly gesture that I treasured, the California wildflower that he pulled over on the side of the Pacific Coast Highway to pick during peak traffic on the way to my house. It now lay inside a small glass bottle hung around my neck, all wilted like our history.
I pull my phone from my purse, scrolling down to the bottom of my contact list, and clicking on the "DO NOT CALL!!!!" number. I hesitantly dial his number and bring it up to my ear,
"Hey! You reached Calum, I'm away from my phone right now but leave a message!", He declined it immediately, either that or his phone was dead. Not quite sure which one makes me feel better. I roll my eyes at the stupid prepubescent voice and turn my phone off.
I tossed my phone down onto my lap and leaned my head against the wheel. I subconsciously wanted to log back into my Instagram and scroll down an update page to find out anything about him. I had no idea what he was up to or who he was with, it's been years since I've last heard his voice.
"You know this isn't good for either of us, Y/n", he rang through my head as I remember standing on his porch in late July.
"Calum, we've been through this so many times- why can't we just try?"
He runs his hand through his freshly cut hair and shakes his head, "It never ends well, I feel like a fucking lost dog who always limps its way back to you.. I just- Fuck- I can't do thi-"
The last thing I remember was the door closing in my face, leaving me all alone with no closure. I could hear him on the other side, a thump on the door indicating he was leaning against it. I tried for the handle, jiggling it a few times before banging on it, begging for him to talk to me. I couldn't stay mad at him forever, as much as I wanted to. I wanted to scream at him, slap him in his beautiful face, and kiss him all at once.
My phone vibrating snapped me out of my thoughts and I looked down,
DO NOT CALL!!!!
My heart skips a beat, staring at my phone on my lap buzzing away. I bit my lip softly, pulling it closer to my face as I accepted the FaceTime call.
The camera was pointing to the ceiling when I answered, his voice booming loudly as he spoke.
"Hello?"
I let let a breath I didn't know I was holding, trying to gather the right words to say. What was I supposed to say after all this time?
"Cal?", my voice is softer than I had hoped for, the word slipping past my lip like it's begging to finally be let out.
"Holy shit", the camera shifts and he props it up against the wall, waving at me with one hand. Calum sits in his studio chair with his old bass in his lap, headphones pushed back against his long curly hair. His eyes are wide as he raises an eyebrow, "Shit, long time no see."
I adjust the camera against my steering wheel and scoot my seat back, allowing for a better view of myself as I smile innocently with an awkward wave. "Hi Cal, how ya been?" I see his eyes travel down to the necklace around my neck, my fingers dancing around the bottle as I speak.
"Shit, Y/n if I'd known it was you calling I would've answered way faster, I just had deleted your number-", he stops himself, looking up with a sympathetic crooked smile before sighing. I raise a hand up to reassure him instead, "Calum", god saying his name tugs at my heartstrings, "It's okay, I get it... we don't have to dance around it.. now what are you up to?"
He was lying, Calum hood was bluffing to my face and I had no idea. After all this time, he still had my contact listed as "My wildflower", but he couldn't dare admit to me that he didn't answer sooner because he was scared.
Scared of what I was going to say
Scared id tell him I found someone new
Scared of seeing or hearing me again
"I'm actually working on a song right now", he laughs and holds the iconic bass up, a small spot right under the strings that once had a star sticker I placed on it- now scraped off.
I make a face, reminding myself that that was the past and I shouldn't dwell on it too much, but seeing him happier without me didn't make me feel like I thought it would. A part of me wished he was as miserable as I was, cooped up in my room writing stupid songs that were confessing my raw feelings.
"What's it about?", I chirp up as he bends down to play a few notes on the keyboard next to him, assuming it's the intro.
"It's about someone that was in my life, uh someone you don't know- she came around afterward", he says slowly, not meeting my eyes through the screen. I just nod in agreement, opening my mouth to speak.
"Would you like to come over for dinner sometime this week?", The words flow out before I had time to think about it. As I wait for his response, I pick at my nails- a habit he absolutely hated. He would smack my hand out of my mouth every chance we were together, telling me "I'd get worms in my belly" I did stop for a while, but my bitten nails were the only reminder he was actually gone.
"Yeah, I would love to!- Look I'll let you go but we'll keep in touch alright?", He speaks quickly, his hand flying down in one swift movement. With that, he ends the FaceTime call and I'm left looking at my reflection. I looked dumbfounded, smiling to myself as wide as I could.
I couldn't let myself fall for this again, for him- we both knew it wasn't going to end well for either of us. But hell it's been 4 years and I've changed as a person, and by the looks of it, he has too.
My phone buzzed once, twice, and then three before I looked back up at it to see three new messages from none other than Hood.
DO NOT CALL!!!!: I kinda lied, you do know the person I wrote it about
DO NOT CALL!!!!: mp3.wildflower.calumdemo.rec
DO NOT CALL!!!!: my wildflower ;)
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Errant
Word count: 16.0k
Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Female Reader
Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Fighting, Name Calling, Toxic Themes and Behavior, Allusions to Cheating, Jealousy, Anger, Gaslighting. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Oral M!Receiving, Fingering, Oral F!Receiving, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Slight Masochism, Slight Humiliation Kink, Spanking, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex. Fluff.
A/N: Hey! Welcome back for the third installment of the four part Valentine's Day Mini Series I've been working on along with my best pal, @sacredstarcatcher! We've had so much fun writing these, and we hope that you enjoy Josh's story! This may not be everyones cup of tea, so make sure you read the warnings! There's only one left now, and we can't wait to share Jake's story with you! See you real soon!
JOSH POV
You sit on the exam table, gently swinging your feet as the doctor scribbles on his prescription pad. The paper underneath you crinkles, your clammy hands getting stuck to it.Â
âItâs looking like the perforation is healing, but Iâm going to give you some antibiotics and ear drops. Youâll take the antibiotics for 10 days and the drops for 5.â He tears off the prescription and hands it to you. âJust be sure you arenât drinking and you avoid getting any water in or around your ears.â
You scrunch up your nose when you hear the pointed reminder not to drink.Â
âThank you, doc. Iâll be on my best behavior.â You joke, hopping down from the table. Your sneakers squeak as you stick the landing.Â
Navigating through the back halls of the ENT practice, you follow the signs that direct you to the check-out. Itâs eerily quiet as you walk through the waiting room and out of the front doors. The sun nearly blinds you when you get outside, so you lift your hand to block it out while you search for your girlfriendâs car.Â
Spotting her a few rows into the parking lot, you walk in her direction, knocking softly on the window once youâre close enough. She unlocks the door and you slip inside, the car next to her parked a little too close. She sighs, shifting from park to drive while you buckle your seatbelt.
âHow was it?â she asks, her enthusiasm lacking. You look over at her as she cranes her neck to check that the way is clear before she pulls out of her parking spot.
âWell, it was fine.â You take a deep breath before continuing. âI have to take antibiotics and put in ear drops for a few days, so you might have to help me with that. I can keep taking the pain meds that the doctor I originally saw prescribed, but the pain should subside as I heal.âÂ
She nods, keeping the radio volume low. The only time she doesnât sing in the car is when sheâs upset, and you know the song currently playing is one of her favorites. So, you seal your fate and ask the dreaded question in every relationship.
âWhatâs wrong?âÂ
She huffs and thinks for a moment before she answers.Â
âYou know itâs Valentineâs day, right?âÂ
âOh. Yeah, I guess it is.â Youâve never put much stock in the holiday and you didnât think she did either. The last two years, you hadnât ever done more than get her some flowers or chocolates delivered, mostly because you werenât around.
âI just⊠I donât know, itâs the first one weâve been able to spend together and weâre spending the day going to the doctor and the pharmacyâŠâ
âOh, so youâre mad that you had to bring me to the doctor?â you ask, a little defensive now.Â
âThatâs not what Iâm saying, Josh. Iâm just saying I wish we were doing more than running errands.â She speaks curtly to you, and honestly, itâs a little condescending.
âItâs a made up holiday anyway. Iâve never bought into all the hearts and candy and bullshit. I didnât think you did either.â You rest your head on your hand, looking out the window as she drives a little too fast down the freeway.
âItâs not about that. Youâre not getting it.â she snaps, her tone whiny and frustrated.
âListen. I had my assistant send you chocolate covered strawberries to your office. I donât really know what else you want from me.â you bite back. Youâve had enough of this argument and want to be home already so you can take something for your pain and try to get some rest.Â
âI didnât even know that, seeing as I had to call out and use a sick day to take you to the doctor.â she says, and you feel your scalp get hot, your temper flaring.
âSo you are mad you had to bring me to the doctor.âÂ
âI just donât understand what a ruptured eardrum has to do with driving!â she says, her voice raising a bit. âYou didnât take your pain meds this morning so you technically would have been fine to drive⊠I just donât appreciate that I had to use my PTO on Valentineâs day and all Iâm doing is driving Miss Daisy.âÂ
âI donât know if you realize this, but Iâm in a lot of fucking pain.â you grit out, and she scoffs a laugh.
âYeah. Iâve heard.âÂ
You know youâre about to lose it, so you close your eyes for a moment, gathering your composure. Unfortunately, she just keeps going.
âI thought I was going to spend my Valentineâs day getting bitten and scratched by your brotherâs awful fucking cat, but now that youâre all home, I get to spend my evening dealing with you while youâre miserable and in pain, and Iâm not sure which is worse.âÂ
âYou act like Iâm home on some vacation⊠I have a work function tomorrow even if Iâm not out at the shows, soââ
âAre you kidding me?! You somehow have MORE obligations now that youâre home? I guess Iâm the fool for thinking we would have more than a few hours to spend together.â She cuts the wheel and turns sharply into your driveway. You grab the handle of the door and grumble under your breath at the way sheâs driving like a maniac.
âLook, itâs not like I asked to go. Jake and Danny did the last one, so now Sam and I are stuck going tomorrow. Itâs supposed to be nice. Itâs a fancy thing, dinner and drinks. I figured you would be my date.âÂ
You watch her turn off the car and think for a moment, the word âdateâ appealing to her a little bit, which is exactly what you had hoped.
âCome on. I missed you and I feel like shit and youâre⊠youâre all prickly. Canât we just have a nice night in? Iâll make it up to you. I just want to take a nap.â
She seems to be thinking about it as she gets out of the car. You unbuckle your seatbelt and follow suit, walking around to her side and reaching for her hand. Tugging her closer, you wrap your other arm around her shoulders and kiss her on the side of her head with some force.Â
âOkay, okayâŠâ she relents, leaning in to you.Â
âI love you. Youâre still my Valentine, right?â you ask, nuzzling your nose into her hair and squeezing her tighter. It works up a little giggle out of her, which means youâre in the clear.Â
âI guess so. You didnât even ask me.âÂ
You squeeze her again, this time digging your fingertips into her sides to tickle another laugh out of her.Â
âIt was on the card that came with the strawberries, obviously.â you quip, peppering her cheek and neck in kisses while she continues to soften up.Â
âOh, get out of here. Go take your damn nap.â she says with a smile, turning you by the shoulders towards the house and pushing gently.Â
â
HER POV
You hear the soft padding of feet upstairs and the whip of the flat sheet as your bed is remade, pulling your attention away from your computer screen as you send off emails. The sun is set now, the room cast in darkness, and you figure Josh has slept off the fatigue that was a result of his medications. You gently close your computer, setting it next to you on the couch as you hear his feet walking slowly down the stairs. You turn to lay eyes on him, looking a little worse for wear in his low slung joggers, but still glowing as usual.Â
âHey baby, you feel any better?â you ask, resting your chin on the back of the fluffy leather couch cushion.Â
âNo. Not really, but itâs fine.â he pauses, reaching the landing and walking up to the back of the couch. He pulls his phone from his pocket and checks the time, âYou want to get ready, we can go grab dinner?â he asks, running a hand over his messy curls.Â
âI would love to, but are you sure you want to?â you ask, a little surprised that he actually wants to go out.Â
âYeah, I have to eat with these antibiotics.â he says, pushing off the couch, and heading into the kitchen. âHow long do you need to get ready?â
âUm, I donât know, twenty minutes or so?â you answer, standing quickly and grabbing your phone from the coffee table.Â
âAlright, Iâll be up there to change in a minute.â
You take the stairs two at a time, rounding the corner into your bedroom, and dashing into the closet. You finger through your hangers searching for the perfect outfit, the idea not occurring to you that youâd need one since he wasnât even supposed to be home for Valentineâs day this year.Â
You pull a dark burgundy top from the hanger, the thick sweater material perfect for the cold snap that has swept over Nashville this week. You pull your t-shirt over your head and put it on while reaching for a pair of dark wash jeans. After shimmying into the denim pants, you find a pair of heels, kicking off your socks and securing the buckle at your ankle.Â
You make a mad dash into the bathroom, doing a quick version of your normal make up and running a curling iron through your hair. Youâre spraying your wrist with his favorite perfume just as you see him walk past the bathroom door and into the closet. You can hear him changing clothes, grabbing his coat and pulling it over his arms as he steps into the bathroom and meets your gaze in the mirror.Â
âWow, uh, you know itâs freezing out, right? Actually, colder than freezing.â he says, adjusting his sleeves.Â
âYeah, Iâll grab my coat from the closet down stairs, no big deal.â you answer, walking towards him and shutting off the bathroom light.Â
âYou sure you want to wear heels?â he asks, as he ushers you downstairs, a lilt in his voice.
You open the coat closet, grabbing your jacket and pulling it over your arms. âYeah, why not?â
He throws his hands up, âJust askingâŠâ
You grab your purse from the kitchen counter, following his lead out to the car. He makes a point to open your car door, shutting it behind you before skittering across the front of the car to join you.Â
With the turn of his keys, his Jeep roars to life, his fingers quickly pressing the buttons to turn on the heat. He puts the car in reverse, backing up enough to turn around in the driveway, the gravel crunching beneath his tires. He lays his hand over top of yours on your thigh, clasping your hand in his. He licks over his lips and turns to look at you.Â
âHey,â he pauses, waiting until he has your attention. You let your eyes meet his, before he refocuses on the road. âIâm sorry about earlier⊠I just have a short fuse when Iâm in pain. Thank you for taking me today, and thanks for taking care of me.â
âOh, itâsâ itâs okay, I know you donât feel good. Donât worry about it, baby. Weâre here now, right?â you say, offering him a lopsided smile.
He pats your thigh as he drives down the road, leading you into town as he mouths the words to the songs playing through the speakers. Your heart flutters as you look at him, your head tilting back to rest on the headrest, just happy to be with him, and happy that he changed his mind about doing something tonight.Â
Youâre quickly pulled from your daydreams as he whips the car into the parking lot of Philâs Tavern, a local spot that is not exactly known for its phenomenal cuisine, sitting a whopping 5 minutes away from your home. You sit up a little straighter, making sure youâre seeing this right, and that he really is parking the car.Â
âPhilâsâŠâ you question, turning to look at him.Â
â...Yeah? Did you want something elseâŠ?â he asks, as if annoyed youâd question his decision.
âYou saidâ Youâ I thought we were going to dinner, not picking up sandwiches from the fucking neighborhood bar?!â you shout.Â
âIâm not getting a sandwich. Iâm getting soup. You can get whatever you want.â he says, pulling his keys from the ignition, and opening his door.Â
A huff leaves your mouth as your jaw hangs slack, watching in shock as he shuts the door behind himself and makes his way to yours. He opens yours and offers you a hand to step down, but youâre still sitting in shock that this is his idea of a romantic Valentineâs day date.Â
âJoshâŠâ you admonish, looking down at your heels and sweater.Â
âWhat? I asked you if you wanted to wear that and you said yes!â he says, shrugging his shoulders.
âYeah! I didnât think we were going to fucking Philâs, Josh! Itâs Valentineâs Day! I donât know if youâve noticed, but there arenât a lot of cars in the parking lot?!â
He clicks his tongue, and looks around. âPerfect, then we have the place to ourselves.â
Your eyes close on their own and you take a deep breath to keep yourself from having a meltdown. You grab your purse from the floorboard and grab his hand, stepping out of the car and snatching it away from him as soon as your feet hit the gravel.
He shuts the door behind you and locks the car, the two of you walking quickly into the dimly lit bar and grill. You walk up to the counter to order, watching as the bartender throws back a shot with the guys at the end of the bar. You catch his attention and he rushes over to the order counter pulling a pen out of his pocket. âWhat can I get âcha?â
âHey man, can we uhâ Iâll take the soup of the day, whatever it is is fine.âÂ
âItâs ahh, itâs Chicken Tortilla.â he answers.Â
âYeah, thatâs great, thanks.â he answers, pulling his wallet from his pocket. âBabe?â he murmurs, wanting you to order.Â
âOkay, Iâll do a Cuban, extra pickles.â you say, crossing your arms over your chest.Â
He nods, âOutta Cuban bread, sorry sweets.âÂ
âOkay Iâll do the Italian then.â you concede, watching him scribble it down on the notepad.
âYou want that hot or cold?â he asks.Â
âHot.â
âThink our press is down, but I can check.â he says, turning to shout towards the kitchen.
âItâs down, is cold fine?â he asks, him and Josh both staring at you.Â
âFuck.â you mutter under your breath. âYes, fine.â
â$17.97.â he says, ringing the service bell for the staff. Josh swipes his card through the card reader and puts it back into his wallet, placing it back in his pocket before thanking the man at the counter.Â
âOh shit, I didnât tell him itâs to go. You donât care if we take it home, right? Itâs a little loud in here.â he doesn't give you a chance to answer before stepping back up to the window.
You pull your phone from your purse, opening Instagram to mindlessly scroll while you wait for your food, seeing story after story of the dates your friends are on, fueling your rage all the more. You didnât care that you werenât at a fancy restaurant. You didnât care that you were having a sandwich. You cared that he seemingly didnât care about how you were feeling. That it was just any other old day to him, simply because he didnât subscribe to the holiday. But that didnât mean you didnât. You tried to see the bright side, that he was home, and that you were at least together, even if he was in a sour mood.
He steps back over to you, pulling his own phone from his pocket and sending a few texts. You canât help but notice how carefree he is, completely unbothered and oblivious to how youâre feeling as you stand right next to him. Â
âYou wanna watch a movie or something when we get back?â he asks, putting his phone in his jacket pocket.Â
âWhat movie?â you ask, raising a brow.
âI donât know, a documentary? We can find something, Iâll probably fall asleep watching it anyways.â
You huff out a laugh, âOf course. Yeah, whatever you want Josh.â
âWhatâs your deal tonight, Y/N, JesusâŠâ
You feel your blood boiling beneath your skin and just as you are about to unleash, the order bell rings and a brown paper bag is placed on the counter. Josh steps up and grabs it, pulling his car keys from his pocket and heading for the door, leaving you to follow behind him.
â
He pulls into the driveway rapidly, rocks flying as he throws the car into park. Shutting off the engine he pulls his keys from the ignition and grabs the brown paper bag from the center console. âCome on, letâs get inside. Iâll start the fireplace.â
You huff as you step out of the car, making your way up the walkway, pulling the sleeves of your coat over your hands. He unlocks the front door and places the to-go bag on the kitchen counter on his way to the living room. Â
You take off your coat and hang it in the closet, pulling your foot up to release the buckles of your heels, letting you drop back down to your normal height. You can hear him mumbling in the living room, clearly having a hard time getting the fire lit. You walk into the kitchen grabbing a bottle of red wine off the top of the fridge, and searching around the junk drawer for the corkscrew. Itâs no time at all before youâre popping the cork out of the bottle and pouring the Merlot into a bulbous green colored wine glass.Â
He joins you in the kitchen, washing his hands in the sink before looking over at you, starting to take the first sip of your wine. âReally? Youâre seriousâŠâ
âSerious, what? About this glass of wine? Yeah, I am.â you quip, swallowing down the first sip.
âYouâre really gonna drink my favorite wine, right in front of me when you know I canât have any? What are you playing at tonight, Y/N?â he seethes, pulling his plastic container of soup from the bag.
âWhat am I playing at? Iâm sorry, I didnât realize that just because you canât drink, meant that I had to follow suit! My mistake!â you shout, setting the glass down on the marble countertop maybe a little more forcefully than you should have.Â
He shakes his head trying to rid the nasty thoughts you know are swirling around up there as he pulls a spoon from the utensil drawer. âWhatever, Iâm gonna take this to the couch.â
You grab a plate from the cabinet in front of you, unwrapping your sandwich and placing it on the plate. You look over and see him tinkering with the TV remote, no doubt queueing up something the two of you have watched, studied, and rewatched a hundred times. You grab your wine glass and your plate and join him in the living room, setting your items on the coffee table before sitting at the opposite end of the couch.Â
The tension in the air is thick, neither of you wanting to say anything for fear of it turning into yet another argument. So instead, he presses play on the remote, and as suspected, âKubrick by Kubrickâ begins to play for the 77th time in this household.
âJosh, reallyâŠâ you whine, your shoulders slumping in defeat.Â
âI donât want to get too invested in anything, Iâm gonna pass out as soon as I finish this soup.â he answers, turning up the volume to effectively silence you. Â
âCanât we watch something, I donât know⊠With a plot? With a shred of romance? That we havenât seen a hundred times?â you barter, talking over the intro music.
âCanât you just let me enjoy being home for once?â he snaps, pressing pause on the remote.
Your eyes dial in on his, and almost poetically, youâre positive he can see the reflection of the flames in the fireplace dancing across your infuriated eyes.
âFor onceâŠâ you breathe, biting your tongue. âSure, sure. You uhâ you just enjoy yourself, okay? I would hate to ruin your time at home with my presence.â you say, standing up from the couch with your wine glass in hand, leaving your sandwich laying there as you bound up the stairs.Â
Before you even reach the top you hear the music blare back to life, and the slurping of the soup from his spoon. If you had a bedroom door you would slam it but fucking of course, you donât.
You place your wine glass on your nightstand before walking into your closet ridding yourself of the wasted outfit. You pull a slinky black satin slip from your pajama drawer, dropping it over your bare body before padding back out to the bedroom to close the curtains.Â
You draw back the fluffy flax colored duvet, thinking of nothing but positively melting into your olive green linen sheets; a Christmas splurge the two of you decided you couldnât live without. Sinking down into the feather pillows you let out a sigh, finding yourself exactly where you expected to be tonight, before you ever knew Josh was coming home for a few days.
You settle in with your glass of wine and your kindle, reading love stories of men, who at this point, you were sure didnât really exist. An hour or so later, when the wine was long gone, and the house had grown quiet you heard the front door lock, and the flick of the light switches downstairs. You switched off your lamp, hoping to avoid any further conversation for the night, placing your tablet on the nightstand and pulling the sheets up over your shoulders.Â
His footfall is light as he pads up the wooden stairs, rounding the corner hesitantly as he catches sight of you in the bed. He slides his hand down the wall as he enters the room, walking quietly into the bathroom and shutting the door. You can hear the sink running and the sound of him tossing his clothes into the hamper as you close your eyes and will yourself to fall asleep.
Itâs not long until you hear the door open and feel the dip in the bed as he slides in behind you, a gentle sigh leaving his lips as he sinks into the sheets. You feel the brush of his knuckles as they glide up your spine. âI know youâre not asleep, my loveâŠâ
Knowing youâre caught, you turn softly to your back, âNo, you donât know. I could have been.â
A soft smile forms on his lips, a few misplaced curls falling over his forehead, âNot true. I know you fall asleep with your arms over your head every single night. And in the middle of the bed. You never sleep on your side of the bed.â
âWell maybe I want to tonight.â you quip, rolling back to your side and repositioning the sheets.
âCome on baby, donât be like that.â he says, wrapping his arm around your waist. He pulls you towards him, his obviously nude body conforming to yours. You can feel him, hard against your back and you push away from him.Â
âJoshâŠâ you scold.Â
âWhat, babyâŠâ he asks, running his hand along the curve of your waist. âI miss youâŠâ
âYou didnât an hour ago!â you sneer.
âYes I did! I miss you all the time! Every single day Iâm away from you. Thatâs why you moved in, remember? So I could spend every day with you when Iâm home?â he pauses, âEvery night like this?â
âJosh, I justâ Tonight was⊠Well the entire day, really, was rough. Iâm not exactly in a romantic mood at the moment.â you answer.
âWell thatâs okay, you can just blow me instead.â he says, more of a demand than a question, his lips brushing against your shoulder.Â
âOh can I?! How generous of you to offer that to me! What a privilege!â you mock. âYou really have earned it, I canât believe I didnât think of this myself!â you scorn, reaching for his hand and shoving it towards his dick. âTry that instead!â
âGoddamn youâre being such a bitch!â he seethes, throwing the duvet off of himself and snatching his phone from the nightstand.Â
âYeah! Happy Valentineâs day to you too, Josh!â you spit one last time as you watch him pull on a pair of boxers. He smooths his hand over his face and runs his tongue under his lips, looking at you one more time before stomping his way down the stairs.Â
â
JOSH POV
It took you approximately fourteen seconds after you said it to know you fucked up. It took you two more seconds to realize there was no coming back from it, at least thatâs what you deduced as you tossed and turned on the living room couch all night. You spent those sleepless hours racking your brain for ways you could fix this. You were a dick, admittedly, in pain or not, and she in no way deserved the way you treated her.
You pulled your sore body up from the couch, tossing the throw blanket over the arm as you made your way up the stairs. She was still sleeping, sprawled across the middle of the bed with your pillow hugged to her face. You wished you could take back what you said. You wished you had taken her somewhere nicer than Philâs. You should have known that when you saw her in heels and smelled your favorite perfume. She dressed up for you. But you couldnât see past your own selfish needs. You only cared about yourself and what you wanted.Â
You kicked yourself the entire time you spent under the spray of the shower, knowing that of the three sporadic days you would spend at home with her, youâd let one go completely to shit. Then tonight, youâd spend the whole night schmoozing with label executives, where she would willingly stand in your shadow until it was time to go home.Â
UnlessâŠ
A smile spread across your face as you formulated your plan, and as you shut off the water and wrapped a towel around your waist you hoped and prayed it would work.Â
â
You rap your knuckles against the old wooden front door, peeking through the glass to see if there is any movement inside. Itâs nearly noon and you know heâs in there, but whether or not heâs awake is the question. You shove your hands into your pockets, the cold air whipping through the porch a little too harshly for your liking.Â
You hear his footsteps bounding down the stairs and you see him appear through the glass, a strange look on his face as he opens the door.Â
âIf youâre on my doorstep, you want something that a text wouldnât cover.â he says, raising a brow.
âCan I not come visit my twin?â you ask, pushing past him into his warm house.
âNo, I think your last words to me when we left the airport were âFuck off, donât call me, Iâll see you in three daysâ, but I could be mistaken.â he says, shutting the front door.Â
âListenâŠâ you counter, flopping yourself down onto his couch with a huff.
He stands across the living room with his hands on his hips and a small smile on his lips. Thereâs something different about him, but you canât quite put your finger on it. Almost like a little bit of life has been breathed into him.Â
âWhy do you look differentâŠâ you ask, the intrusive thought pushing through.
âI donât.â he says, putting his hands on his hips. His eyes flick up to the window behind you, before looking back at you.Â
You cut your eyes at him, you can tell heâs not telling the truth but you let it go because you have more important issues to deal with.Â
âI need a favor.â you say, cutting right to the chase.Â
He raises his eyebrows signaling for you to continue.Â
âI need you to go to this event tonight in my place, Iââ
âNo.â he shouts, cutting you off.Â
âJake, please. Y/N and I got in a huge fight and I have to make it up to her and I canât if I have to go to this fucking thing tonight.â you explain, giving him the shortened version.Â
âNo. Actually, my answer is not only no, but fuck no.â Jake stood with his arms crossed across his chest. You let your head flop back onto his couch, a groan leaving your chest.Â
âYou know I wouldnât ask if it wasnât fucking dire.â You plead. âI fucked up, and I have to make it right. Please JakeâŠâ
âJesus Christ, itâs Thanksgiving all over again. You know Josh, if you and Y/N didnât fight like this every other day, I might be more willing to consider it. One day youâre gonna fuck around and lose her for good.â he says, shaking his head and rubbing his hand over his chin. âHold on, you two fought on Valentineâs day? Fuckinâ poetic. What did you do, buy the wrong flowers? The wrong chocolates?â
âNo, I⊠Didnât get her flowers.â you mumble, hoping he didnât hear you.Â
âOkay, so no flowers. Did you take her out to dinner or something?â he asks, tilting his head.
âNo, I mean, well, kind of.â you mumble again. âDidnât really think about it.â
âWhere did you take her Josh.â he demands, crossing his arms again.Â
âWe went to PhilâsâŠAnd gotâŠTo-goâŠâ you answer, realizing again as you say it out loud how bad it sounds.Â
âThe fucking sandwich place Josh, youâre kidding meâŠâ he spits, starting to pace around the room.Â
âDonât act all high and mighty Jacob, you sat home alone...â you retort, knowing this isnât helping your case.
He lifts his finger to you, pointing at you with a scowl, âFuck you. Also, it sounds like she was justified. Didnât she take you to the doctor yesterday? Hasnât she been catering to your ass since weâve been back?â
âYeah.â you answer.Â
âAnd you didnât plan a single thing at allâŠâ he confirms.Â
âCorrect.â you say, over enunciating the âTâ.
âAsshole.â
âOkay, so you agree, I fucked up and need to fix this.â you say, gesturing with your hands. âSo go to the event tonight in my place and let me smooth things over with Y/N tonight.â
ïżœïżœïżœSorry, but I canât. I have plans.â he answers, shrugging his shoulders.Â
âPlans?! With who? You donât leave your house!â you shout, seeing a blur of black fur and claws tear across the living room. âJesus, I always forget you have that thing.â
âYeah, Iâm not keeping it.â he says, shaking his head. âAnd itâs none of your business. Youâre going to that event. The label doesnât care if youâre in a fight with your girlfriend. They are expecting you, and you are who theyâre gonna get. Plus, Sam will be there so you donât have to do all the talking. Take her with you, lay it on thick, and take her home. Things will blow over like they always do and youâll be back to your 2AM facetime gushy bullshit in no time.â
âFuckâŠâ you sigh, laying down across his couch. âI just donât think itâs gonna go that way. This was a bigger fight than usual.â you say, feeling your phone vibrating in your pocket. You pull it out to see your timer flashing, indicating it is time for your next dose of antibiotics.Â
You reach into your other pocket, pulling out the loose pill, and grabbing the glass of water you assume to be Jakeâs from the coffee table. You swallow down the pill as he watches in contempt, checking the time on his phone.Â
âDo you need anything else?â he asks, pacing around his living room.Â
âNo. Guess fuckinâ not. What are you getting into today?â you ask, relaxing back into the cushions.Â
âI have⊠some errands to run. And a few other things.â he says, dismissively.Â
âErrands and a few other things? Who the fuck are youâŠâ you ask, stretching your legs out on to the coffee table.
âI was about to take a shower, are you staying or going?â he asks, and as you lay your head back on the couch your eyes start to feel heavy.
âJust gonna rest my eyes for a minute.â you answer, getting more comfortable.Â
âGoddamnit, Josh⊠Okay, but youâre leaving when I do.â
â
The sound of the front door closing is what wakes you, and as you come to you see Jake standing in front of you with grocery bags, clearly back from his errands.Â
âWell, good morning.â he says, his tone a little snipped.Â
âShit, what time is it?â you ask, pulling your phone from your pocket and checking the time. Fuck.Â
âYeah, time for you to go the fuck home and get ready.â he says, making his way into the kitchen.Â
âAlright, Iâm outta here, good luck with your⊠plansâŠâ you smirk, making your way to the door.Â
âDonât need luck, but sounds like you do. Fix it, Josh.â he says, pushing you out the front door and slamming it behind you.Â
â
HER POV
As you leave the house, you think back on how many hours itâs been since you spoke to Josh. He popped into the bedroom when he got home and let you know that you had to leave by 6 to get to the event on time, but you donât really count that as a conversation. You hadnât actually exchanged words since your argument before bed.Â
The two of you sit in complete silence as he drives, the radio turned down so low itâs barely audible. You hold your jacket close around you, unable to shake the chill from the awful cold snap plaguing Nashville.Â
As you arrive, Josh quickly gets out of his Jeep, jogging around to your door to open it and offer you a hand to step out. You accept it, begrudgingly, and steady yourself on the asphalt. You opted for smaller heels tonight, a little scorned from the night before. You look at him and see his slightly forced smile under the streetlight. Heâs in his favorite brown suit, his hair in perfect curls, three tiny, metallic dots painted on the apples of his cheeks. He looks sinfully good, and if you werenât so upset with him, youâd kiss him square on the lips.
âI know you donât want to be here. Just⊠at least try to smile in the pictures, okay?â He says, a hopeful lilt to his voice.Â
You give him a little side-eye before starting to walk towards the front doors of the venue. He catches up with you after locking the car, his hand landing on your upper back as he ushers you into the front door heâs holding open for you.
The two of you wait in line for the coat check, your eyes scanning the lobby for anyone you may know. You donât recognize anyone, so you shuffle ahead in line and keep your coat pulled tight around you. Once youâre a bit further up in line, almost to the front, you hear a familiar voice.Â
âHeeeeey guys!âÂ
Samâs arms wrap around both of you from behind, pulling you into a forced group hug. He unintentionally cuts the entire coat check line to stand with you and Josh.
âHi Sammy,â you mumble, giving him a halfhearted smile. He looks to Josh, who forces a grin, his nose scrunching up in a way that makes it clear to Sam that the two of you arenât getting along. Itâs nothing new to Sam, so he shrugs it off.Â
The line moves again and youâre finally at the front. A friendly young girl is standing behind the podium at the entry to the closet, a few guys running back and forth to take coats and put them in their assigned spots. She offers the three of you a smile as she looks down and tears a tab in half.Â
âCan I take your coat, sir?â she asks Josh as you start to shrug your own off your shoulders.
âOhoho, trying to get me out of my clothes, young lady? I just walked in the door!â he says, like heâs some sort of comedian. You roll your eyes so hard you think they may fall out of your head and fold your coat over your arm. She laughs, her cheeks turning pink as she accepts your coat instead. She dutifully hands the coat to the boy behind her, then offers the other half of the ticket up, between you and Josh for either to grab it.
âAnd now youâre trying to give me your number?â he jokes with a charismatic grin, seeing the number 107 on your ticket. She lets out a shameless giggle at that one and you canât help but shake your head and walk away, uninterested in hearing any more of his god awful jokes. You arrived in a terrible mood and heâs already managed to make your night worse.
Passing through the entrance to the cocktail hour, you grab a glass of champagne and thank the server. Taking a big sip, you look behind you and see Sam and Josh approaching, Josh talking animatedly with his hands to Sam, but Sam is looking straight ahead. At you.Â
His eyes scan over your figure- youâre in a champagne satin mini-dress. The cowl neckline is loose, but the waist pulls in due to the lace-up back. The shimmery color is brought to life under the light right above where youâre standing. Sam isnât listening to a single word Josh is saying, just nodding and staring at you from a distance as his steps slow.Â
Itâs then that you cook up a terrible idea, if not the worst youâve ever had. If Josh wants to treat you like he doesnât care about you and put more romantic energy into the coat check girl than heâs shown you in days, you may as well give him a taste of his own medicine. Right?
Sam eventually pulls his eyes away from your body, nodding cluelessly at Josh. He canât help it and looks back at you again, but this time, Joshâs gaze follows his. You sip your champagne, ignoring the way Joshâs eyebrows raise in surprise as his neck cranes forward slightly. You can read his lips as he says, âJesus Christ.â and look away without giving him a reaction.Â
The two of them make their way over to the high top cocktail table youâve claimed as your own. Josh clears his throat and musters up the courage to speak to you. His voice sounds like it might crack.Â
âIâve never seen that dress. Whereâd you get it?â he asks, giving you another once-over now that heâs closer.
âYou sent it to me while you were in Paris for my birthday.â you answer dryly. âOr was that your assistant too?âÂ
He closes his eyes and lets out a sigh, realizing heâs just dug himself a little bit deeper.Â
âCome to think of it, Josh, have you ever bought me a gift yourself? Or do you just send the people that work for you on errands to ship me fancy baubles to keep me quiet and occupied while youâre away?âÂ
He steps a little closer to you, lowering his voice.Â
âDo we have to do this here?â he pleads. âIâm sorry I didnât remember. You look beautiful. Okay? Let me go get you a drink. What do you want?âÂ
You cut your eyes to Sam, who seems to be trying to occupy himself by staring up at the ceiling. Letting out a big sigh, you mumble back a tired, âChampagne,â to Josh.Â
He nods and walks off, heading for the bar. In the meantime, you look at Sam, whoâs giving you a nervous smile.Â
âSorry. Itâs been⊠a rough few days.â You confess. âThis ear thing has turned him into a jackass.âÂ
âOh, yeah. He complained the whole way home.â Sam says, commiserating.Â
âSo itâs not just me?!â You laugh, Sam joining you.Â
âNo no. Not just you.â
You notice Josh is on his way back and decide to test the waters. Reaching forward, you step closer to Sam and adjust the collar of his shirt under his suit jacket, your touch lingering as you let your hand brush down the front of his chest before tugging his jacket into place and pulling your hands back to yourself. Youâre in close proximity, so you look up at him with a little bat of your eyelashes.Â
âOh. Thank you!â He says, a little caught off guard, but heâs Sam, and heâs friendly, and you know heâs going to let you get away with it.Â
Josh appears and somehow squeezes his arm between you and Sam, placing your champagne on the table. Heâs noticed the mischievous glint in your eye and itâs game on.Â
The event starts to pick up, more and more people roping Josh into conversations. Itâs obvious that heâs the more recognizable of the two brothers there tonight, so you find yourself left standing with Sam on more than a few occasions.Â
âDid you trim your hair?â You ask him, reaching out to twirl the end of his shiny brown locks around your finger. He chuckles softly, feeling a little bashful. Josh is at your side but deep in conversation with a man youâve never seen in your life.
âYeeaaaaah, I did, it was getting a little unruly. Just trying to keep it healthy. Iâm surprised you noticed.âÂ
âOf course I noticed, Sammy. Some people may not notice you. But I always do.â Your voice is syrupy sweet. You feel a nudge from the other side of you and Josh is clearly eavesdropping, his brain working overtime as he nods at the gentleman talking his ear off while also listening to you and Sam. Sam doesnât notice and gives you a soft laugh, shrugging. His cheeks are tinted a little pink. Heâs too easy.Â
âWhy donât we go find our table for dinner, hm?â Josh suggests, cutting his conversation short, which is just not in his character. You finish your last sip of champagne and leave your glass on the table.Â
âYou heard him. Câmon, Sammy boy.âÂ
You reach for his arm, linking it with yours. Josh gives you a look, but you usher him forward with a dismissive gesture. He glowers at you before walking toward the seating chart to see that the three of you are at table six. Sam follows along, his hand in his pocket as you hold on to his forearm.Â
You settle into the chair between Sam and Josh. You opt for the chicken when the caterers come around, and both Sam and Josh go for the fish. There are a few speeches that go on before your plates arrive, so you sit politely and listen, Joshâs back to you as the speakers present. Since Sam is behind you, there are a few points where you turn around to laugh with him about something the presenter says. Josh stays facing forward, effectively blocking the two of you out.Â
As your plates are delivered, everyone starts to eat, the table occasionally chattering, but itâs mostly quiet as some music plays.Â
âHowâs the chicken?â Josh asks, trying to make small talk. You take a bite, nodding.Â
âReally good. And the fish?â You ask politely, but you donât really care.Â
âDelicious. Do you want a bite?â He asks, gesturing to his plate with his utensils.Â
âOh, no. No thanks.â You reply, turning away. He shrugs and goes back to eating his dinner, sipping his water.
âDo you wanna try a bite of the chicken, Sammy?â You ask, raising your eyebrows. You give him a soft smile as he nods, swallowing his bite.
Cutting a piece, you lift your fork towards Sam and he instinctively opens his mouth. Your other hand comes up under his chin to make sure he doesnât get any sauce on his jacket. He accepts the bite from your fork and chews, nodding.Â
âOh, thatâs really good. I should have gotten that.â He says, talking with his mouth full. Itâs then that the stranger next to Sam interjects.Â
âHow long have you two been together?â She says, a nosey but well meaning woman. Josh nearly chokes on his dinner, pulling his cloth napkin up to his mouth as he coughs. Itâs such a distraction that you donât hear what Sam says to her.Â
Once Josh stops coughing, he looks at you with a subtle anger behind his eyes.Â
âCan you stop? I get it. You made your point.â Josh grumbles through gritted teeth. You feign innocence, blinking at him with bullshit doe eyes.Â
âWhat point, Josh?âÂ
âYouâre flirting with my brother so blatantly that strangers think youâre dating. What the fuck am I supposed to do, just sit here and let it happen?âÂ
Sam, realizing tensions are high, starts to stand up.Â
âIâm gonna go get some airâŠâ he says, departing from the table like itâs on fire.Â
âIâm not flirting with him. Iâm just being nice to him. You remember what that is, right? Being nice?â You say with an attitude, tilting your head as you wait for an answer.Â
âCut it out.â He tenses his jaw and his mouth barely moves as he scolds you like youâre some kind of dog.Â
âFuck you, Josh.â Youâre not putting up with it for another second, so you push away from the table, grab your drink, and head in the direction Sam went.Â
As you sneak through the crowds and the bar lines, you check to see if Josh is following you, but heâs still seated at the table. You see Sam through the glass doors, standing under a tent thatâs doing little to nothing to stop the wind, smoking a cigarette. Gently pressing against the push bar, you slip outside and approach him tentatively.Â
Itâs quiet between the two of you as he gives you a smile thatâs more of a grimace, though you know him and know that itâs not his intention.Â
âTwo wrongs donât make a right, you know that, right?â He says, giving you a knowing smirk as he exhales some smoke. You sigh, kicking at a pebble beneath your feet. You hold your glass of champagne with both hands, your thumb nervously running along the side of it.Â
âI feel like I do. But sometimes I canât help myself.â You peer up at him, a coy smile spreading across your face. He lets out a laugh, shaking his head.Â
âYou two are a match made in hell,â he starts, bringing the cigarette back to his lips. âBut I canât imagine him with anyone else.âÂ
You roll your eyes. Lately youâve been feeling like Josh doesnât even want to be with you anymore, but itâs not like you would have time to even discuss splitting up in person, since heâs hardly around long enough. Instead of divulging any of that to Sam, you lift your head and step closer.Â
âCan I have a drag of that?â You ask, giving him a mischievous smirk.Â
âOh, I donât know about that. You know how he is.â Sam says, well aware that the only thing Josh thinks itâs okay to smoke is not cigarettes.Â
âJust one.â You bargain, looking out at the parking lot for a moment, then up at him with doe eyes. He canât help but smile at you in return.Â
âDonât even touch it. Heâll smell it on your hands.â He jokes, turning it around in his fingers and holding it towards you. You tilt up your chin, smiling sweetly before he moves it closer to your pouty, glossy lips. Your eyes close gently and you start to inhale.Â
Within seconds, itâs pulled from your lips, and all you hear is Samâs thick Michigan accent as he whines, âOWWWW!â your eyes shooting open.Â
âI will break every bone in your fuckinâ hand if you donât get the fuck out of here right now, Samuel.â Josh threatens, suddenly outside with the two of you on the patio. Sam grabs the cigarette from his restrained hand with his free one, dropping it to the ground and stepping on it with wide eyes.Â
Josh pushes his arm towards him as he lets it go and Sam nearly trips over himself, mumbling a startled, âJesus Christ.â before adjusting his suit jacket and heading for the door. Â
âAnd you.â Josh is positively seething, as he steps up to you. âWhat am I going to do with you, hm?â
You nervously step backwards, leaning onto the railing behind you as he cages you in. âJosh, Iâmââ
âOh, itâs a little late for that, don't you think? I fucking warned you, Y/N.â His hand grips into your elbow, yanking your forward and dragging you behind him as you make your way back inside the building. âGet your fucking coat and meet me at the front door.â he says, releasing you as you enter back into the large crowd.Â
You walk back over to your table, collecting your bag and your champagne before rushing over towards the coat check. You hand the same girl your ticket stub, and you anxiously sip your champagne as you wait. You may have pushed him too far this time. Seconds later she returns with your coat, and you take it with a smile, pulling it over your arms and making your way to the front door.Â
Josh is waiting, chewing a piece of gum a little harsher than necessary. His jaw is hard set and his cheeks are pink and you know this does not bode well for you. As you approach him he offers a small wave and a smile to someone behind you, before letting his eyes drift back to yours, full of fury, the tension returning to his body.Â
âOh, so you can listen.â he says, yanking the large glass door open, both of you being hit with the cold outside air. You step out the door and begin the walk to the car, clutching your jacket close to your body. Your teeth chatter as the wind hits you, your whole body shivering.Â
âWhat, are you cold in that slutty little dress?â he asks, walking a little too quickly for you to keep up with him. âSeemed just fine on the patio with Sam. Suck it up and keep walking.â
He turns his head looking back at you as you try to drink down the rest of your champagne. He reaches for the glass, ripping it from your hand and tossing it into the bushes. You hear the glass shatter and youâre a little taken aback. Youâve never seen him this mad before, and you hate that you kinda like it.Â
âJosh!â you shout, you cheeks heating at his aggressiveness, and you think the alcohol in your system is to blame for that.Â
âWhat has gotten into you, Y/N?! You thinkâ You think you can just go around acting like a little slut at my work events? With my fucking brother? Do you know how that looks!?â he shouts, as you round the corner, steadily approaching the car. He is still chewing the gum too hard, hoping it will relieve some of the tension pulsing through his body. Â
âI donât know what youâre talking about Josh, I think the pain meds are making you crazy.â you scoff, completely brushing off his accusations, even though he is completely right.Â
âOh, fuck offffâŠItâs not the pain meds, itâs you! Youâre making me fucking crazy! Running around like a little trollop just to make me irate for sport!â he yells, his midwestern accent peeking out in his anger.Â
He reaches for the door handle, yanking it open to let you step in, regardless of how angry he currently is. As you position yourself in the seat you turn to look at him, ready to deliver another snarky comment but as you open your mouth he cuts his eyes and slams the car door closed. You huff and fasten your seatbelt as he joins you on the other side.Â
He starts the car and peels out of the parking spot, spinning the tires as he pulls out onto the main road. Your hands grasp at the door handle for stability, his expression unwavering as he continues to blow down the backstreets of downtown Nashville.Â
âJosh, Iââ
âNo. Silence. Donât say another fucking word until I speak to you first. Got it?â he snaps, the fury is thick in his voice.Â
You cross your arms over your chest, debating whether or not to taunt him further. As if he can hear your thoughts he turns to you, speaking through clenched teeth.Â
âNot. A. Fucking. Word.â
The rest of the drive home was spent in silence, and you could tell he was compiling his list of your transgressions. You knew that the second the front door shut behind you he was going to unleash every bit of it on you, and to be quite honest, you couldnât wait.
Once he tears recklessly up the driveway, he kills the engine and the headlights. Throwing open the door, he slams it behind him and makes his way around to the passenger side. Despite his burning anger, heâs still insistent on opening your door for you. He offers you a hand and when you take it, you feel how warm he is to the touch. Hopping down to the ground, he lets you steady yourself, then tugs your hand so youâre forced to walk in front of him. He lets go once he knows youâve gotten the hint and start off wobbling through the gravel in your heels like a baby deer as he locks the car.Â
You wait next to the front door, knowing Josh has his keys and you opted to leave yours at home to save space in your clutch. He ignores you, his jaw still working overtime on the probably stale gum in his mouth, turning the key in the lock and pushing into the house. He leaves the door open for you to follow him in, so you do, shutting it gently as you slip off your heels.Â
He tosses his keys onto the dining table and you watch as they slide to a halt as he rids himself of his suit coat, tossing it over the back of a chair. You make a move towards the closet, ready to hang your own coat but as you walk he steps in front of you, snatching the thick black fabric from your hands to throw it over the same chair. He stares at you with a hardened jaw, his face and ears red as he prepares for his onslaught, and as a small grin turns up the corner of your lips you see his anger tip the scales to catastrophic.Â
âI donât know why youâre so worked up, Josh. If I didnât know any better I would say youâre acting a bit jealous. Or threatened, maybe?â you pause, tapping your finger to your chin. âYeah, I think threatened is the right word. Are you nervous little Sammy is gonna steal your spotlight and your girl?â
âSteal my spotlight?â he responds, scoffing. Itâs clear you hit a nerve there. âYou need to learn when to keep your mouth shut. Especially when it comes to things you know nothing about.â
âI know how many people were bumping elbows with him tonight, talking about his upcoming projects, barely even asking about the album. Heâs got his own career now.â you double down, narrowing your eyes at him, twisting the knife. He steps closer to you, his nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath. You know heâs about to lay into you for that.
âYou should be grateful I even let you tag along to these fucking things.â he snaps, his voice raising. âYou know, thereâs a hell of a lot you should be grateful for, now that I think of it. Do you know how easy it would be for me to find a nice, quiet girl who waits patiently for me to come home and doesnât spend every waking moment reminding me of my shortcomings?âÂ
You donât like the direction heâs taking this, and youâre realizing you may have pushed him a little too far.Â
âI could go down the line and pick any one I wanted, but I still come home to you. And this is what I have to put up with?âÂ
âSo do it then! Go ahead and take your pick!â you shout, throwing your hands in the air. His cheeks grow red, and his eyes narrow.Â
âBut you wonât, will you Josh... Because you know that not a single one of them will stick around once they find out how you really are. When they find themselves home alone night after night. When you donât speak to them for days at a time when youâre writing or on the road. When you miss their birthday⊠and every major holiday for that matter. When they find out that your idea of love and romance is having your assistant buy hush gifts you canât be bothered to choose yourself. In fact, I wouldnât be surprised if sheâs the one texting me from your phone, too!â
He slams his fist down on the dining table, his keys rattling against the wood. âThat is not true, and you know it!â
âBut it is, and you know who puts up with it? Me, because I love you. And I can promise that youâll be hard pressed to find someone else who is willing to deal with all of that.â
âDare me?â he challenges, wincing slightly as the pressure builds in his ear.Â
âI donât know Josh, is that what you want? Wouldnât say Iâd be surprised with how youâve been acting lately.â you say, pushing away from the kitchen table and walking further into the house.Â
âHow Iâve been acting lately?â he scoffs, following after you, hot on your heels.
âYeah! Like Iâm such a burden to bear. Like youâd rather I wasnât here. Iâm practically your glorified assistant, or arm candy when you feel like dragging me along.â
You start to climb the stairs toward your bedroom, needing to get out of your dress and away from him. Unfortunately, Josh isnât one to ever let you have the last word, and he starts bounding up the staircase after you.
âIs that what this is about? Youâre still mad you had to bring me to the doctor? God forbid I ask you to do something besides complain and spend my money. I needed your help, because if you havenât noticed, something pretty serious happened to me, but for some reason you wonât stop giving me a hard fucking time about it!â That comment about the money stops you in your tracks, leaving you glaring down at him on the step below you.Â
âItâs not about your money and itâs not about me having to help you. Itâs about you not giving a shit about how I feel and blowing me off when I try to tell you. All I want is for you to care! Have we grown so far apart that seeing me upset doesnât even phase you anymore?â
Josh runs his tongue over his teeth as he tries to conjure up a response. He steps up so heâs on the landing with you, a little bit of silence settling over you both.
âAnd you thoughtâŠâ he starts, looking out the window behind you for a moment, then back to your eyes. âYou thought the way to get me to care⊠was to behave like a little slut?â
The energy suddenly shifts between you. You know that in the silence, he must have had a realization that heâs not meeting your needs. You feel your mouth go a little dry and you take a step backwards, reaching to hold on to the railing.Â
âIââ
âYou know what I thinkâŠâ he says, moving closer, caging you in with his arms. âI think that Iâve been gone too longâŠâ his breath is hot on your cheeks. âI think youâre due for an attitude adjustment.â
Your breath catches in your throat as you grip into the bannister. You swallow nervously, as his hand moves to meet your satin covered waist. âYeah, I think I need to remind you just how good you have it, donât I sweetheart?â
The words are there, swirling through your head but as his eyes peer into yours, nothing seems to come out.Â
âSâmatter, baby? Nothinâ to say suddenly? No smart ass remarks? Iâm right, arenât I? You need me to fuck some sense into you?â he growls, his fingers gripping into the curve of your waist. He nods his head in the direction of your bedroom, a crooked smirk on his face.Â
âGo ahead and take off your earrings, baby. Get out of that unbecoming little dress and wait for me on the bed.â he says softly, rubbing a thumb over the apple of your cheek before walking off and locking himself in the bathroom.Â
The cocktail of emotions your brain is floating in has you dizzy. You want to be angry at him, but youâre starting to feel a little embarrassed as you think back on how you acted at dinner. Part of you wants to cry, his harsh words hitting you where he knew it would hurt, but another is so turned on by the way he just flipped the switch on the entire emotionally charged exchange.
You shuffle into your shared bedroom, sitting gingerly at your vanity and taking off all of your jewelry. As you take off your rings, you stare at the earrings and necklace in your porcelain dish, remembering when he had gifted each piece to you. Maybe itâs not that he doesnât care how long or how often heâs awayâŠhe just doesnât know how to make it better. So he sends you trinkets from wherever he visits, reminding you that youâre on his mind. Your heart lurches as you realize that maybe all he wanted while he was away from home was a quiet dinner with you, his love, at Philâs, and thatâs why he didnât take you out to an expensive steakhouse where you would undoubtedly sit awkwardly across from each other and make conversation. He wanted comfort. He wanted what he knows no other woman can give him.Â
You hear the water start to run, which zaps you back into the moment. Standing from the velvet upholstered stool, you head for the walk-in closet and try to reach for the zipper on your dress. You canât exactly get to it, stretching to try and pinch the zipper between your fingers. The bathroom door opens and you whip your head around, knowing heâs going to come looking for you.Â
Itâs only seconds before you feel his warm hands gliding across your hips, no doubt knowing you need his help with the zipper. Perhaps thatâs why he purchased the dress to begin with. Knowing he would be the one to help you take it off. He moves your hair, laying it all to one side of your neck before pressing his lips to your skin. His fingers pinch the small zipper as he slides it down, letting the silk dress flutter down around your ankles.Â
âTell me you know that I love you.â he breathes, his lips brushing against your neck.
âI know you love me.â you answer, breathless as your chest heaves.Â
His hands slide around to your bare stomach, pulling your body back until youâre flush with his own. âNow, tell me youâll remember that.â
âIâll remember.â you whisper, feeling him long and hard as he rests against your back.Â
He grabs your hips and spins you around to face him, cupping your cheeks in his hands. âGood, because Iâm about to fuck you like I donât.â
A gasp leaves your chest as your eyes meet his, dark and blown out. He drags his thumb over your lips, smearing the remnants of your pink lipstick across your chin. âNow get on the bed like I told you the first time.â
Reluctantly pulling away from him, you make your way back into the bedroom, kneeling on the bed, sitting on your heels. You nervously cover your chest with your hands, the room feeling a little cold all of the sudden. He steps into the room, his hand lingering on the doorframe.Â
âMove your hands,â he says, his voice quiet but stern. âYou wanted the entire dinner table to see them. Why canât I?â
Your cheeks burn red as you lower your hands to your lap. He approaches, his eyes scanning every inch of you like heâs appraising you.
âHe didnât touch you, did he?â he asks, pushing your hair behind your ear. âMy brother?âÂ
You quickly start to shake your head. Maybe a little too quickly. You watch him with careful eyes as he lets his hand gently graze your throat, then move further down, the gears in his head turning.
âI bet you wanted him to, thoughâŠâ he adds, pinching at your nipple teasingly, wanting a reaction. You take in a sharp breath between your teeth.
âNo.â you say defensively.
âYou like Sam because heâs so sweet. He cares. Thatâs what you want, right? Someone to wipe away your tears when you cry about meaningless shit? You know thatâs his specialty.âÂ
âI donât like Sam. I just wantedââ
âSave it.â Josh snaps, grabbing harshly at your cheeks to shut you up. He stares at you for a moment before placing a gentle kiss to your squished lips. He pulls away quickly, but doesnât release his grip on your cheeks.
âIf you want to act like a little whore, Iâm going to treat you like one. If I want to hear you speak, Iâll tell you.â
He pushes you backwards as he releases his hand, landing you in the pile of soft feather pillows behind you. He stands up from the bed, shimmying off his boxers before crawling back onto the bed in front of you. His eyes meet yours and for a second there is a softness there, almost as if he is asking if youâre okay with this. You offer him a subtle nod before he lowers his head and begins to drag his nose up the length of your leg.
âDid you have fun tonight, flitting around the place, drink in hand, practically begging to be fucked in the bathroom? Hm? Is that what you wanted?â he asks, pressing a hot kiss to the inside of your thigh.Â
You squirm beneath him as the filthy words leave his angelic lips. âDid you want him to take you away and fuck your stupid little brains out? Answer me.â
âNo.â you reply, desperate to feel his lips on your body. âI⊠I wantedâŠâ you stammer, your bravery leaving you with every shaky breath. He places an open mouthed kiss to your mound, but freezes once your words trail off.
âYou never stop talking, but now youâre at a loss for words? Fucking say it, Y/N.âÂ
âI wanted you!â you cry out, your head falling back onto your pillow, a heavy sigh leaving your chest. He squeezes the softness of your thigh before he speaks.
âAnd you really thought that would work?â he asks, nipping at your soft skin, chuckling quietly. âYouâre dumber than I thought.â Â
You feel your skin grow hot at his words, your hips jerking upwards on their own accord.
âYou like that, donât you? You like it when I call you my stupid little girl?â he asks, sucking a mark into your thigh. âMy dumb little brat?â
A whine leaves your chest as you feel his tongue slowly start to slide through your folds.Â
He pulls away from you, âAh, ah⊠Be quiet, remember? I know itâs hard for you to do as youâre told, but if I have to remind you again you arenât going to like what happens.â
You stifle your moan and move your hips as his hands hold you in place, his tongue reconnecting with your core as he makes slow, languid laps against you. âDid I leave this pretty pussy too long? Does she miss me and need my attention?âÂ
He moves his hands to let his thumbs spread you further, swirling his tongue over your clit. âI think she misses me so bad that itâs got you acting crazy, my love.â His lips suction against you, sucking you into his mouth with a lewd slurp. His hands slide up to your hips, pulling you closer to his face. His tongue grazes your entrance, dipping in just long enough to tease you. He presses a kiss to your clit before pulling away again.Â
âYou must be crazy if you think my brother could do even half of what I do to you. No one, no one, treats this pussy like I do. Worships this pussy like I do.â
âJoshâŠâ you whine, the word leaving your lips before you could stop it.Â
You feel a sharp flick to your clit and you cry out, your body jumping in response.
âI told you that you wouldnât like it.â he says, pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit, as if to soothe the pain he inflicted. You feel a rush of warmth at your core, your body responding positively to his actions.Â
âOh, baby, fuckâŠâ he groans, sliding his fingers thorough the wetness. âBut you do like it. You love it.â He pauses, locking eyes with you. âAnswer me.â
âIâYesâŠâ you breathe, feeling his smile against your core.Â
âMy dirty, sweet, baby likes a little pain with her pleasure.â he growls, sliding a finger inside of you. You clench around it, desperate for more. âYeah? More? You want two or three?â he asks, his eyes flicking to yours.Â
âT-Three.â you beg, breathless as you feel him slide in two more.Â
His lips find your clit again, suckling the sensitive nub into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it again and again as his fingers work you from the inside. The pressure is growing and you know youâre close. He must feel you fluttering around him, so he pulls his fingers and mouth away from you quicker than you can blink.Â
âNu-uh. Not until I say so, and I do believe Iâd like to get mine first tonight... You know, for my troubles.â
A huff leaves your chest as you look at him, sitting back up to rest on his heels.Â
âYou know baby, I think Iâm feelinâ a little reckless tonight...Iâm thinkinâ maybe we skip the condom, what do you say?â
Your eyes widen in surprise, Josh always having been completely adamant that you use protection. Always. Despite being on birth control. You can count the number of times youâve gone without a condom on one hand over the three years youâve been together.Â
âAreâAre you sure?â you ask.
âYeah, I think you need the full effect⊠need to really feel me so you can remember your place. Remember why you count down the days until I come home.â he says, fisting his base.Â
âAlthough,â he says thoughtfully before pausing. â⊠if Iâm going to fuck you like a whore, Iâm gonna have to wear one. Standard procedure, you understandâŠâ he mumbles, reaching over to his nightstand and pulling a silver foil package from the drawer. You feel your heart drop as he rips it out of the package and effectively rips the opportunity away from you. A quiet, disappointed whine leaves your throat.
He clicks his tongue as he watches your face drop, âAw, what is it? Did you want my cock?â he asks, a smug grin on his face. âIf you behaved yourself I probably would have given you what you wanted. Itâs a shame, really.â
âPleaseâŠâ you whine, hoping he doesnât notice the tears in the corners of your eyes.Â
âOh sheâs begging for it. God, you really are so sweet when you want to be.â he says, rolling the condom over his cock.Â
âJosh come on, please!â itâs a pathetic whine as it leaves your mouth, but you donât care.
His hand collides with the side of your hip, a loud smack ringing through the room. âDonât be a little brat. Youâll take what youâre given.â
A whimper leaves your lips as the sting sets in. âThat huââ
âWhat? Hurt? Thatâs typically the point, love.â Your hips jerk up towards him, his abs peeking through as he leans towards you. âNow, do you understand?â
You nod your head as he lowers his, pressing his lips to yours. His perfect heart shaped lips capture yours, his tongue pressing into your mouth with fervor. Your hands come up to wrap around his waist, his skin soft and smooth beneath your hands. You feel his muscles tense under your touch as he ruts his hips, dragging himself against you, the sound of the latex audible as you try to angle yourself so heâll slip inside you.
âSo impatientâŠâ he chides, sucking his teeth as he hovers his lips just above yours. He decides to take mercy on you, letting himself start to slide inside with ease. You cup his cheek, kissing him tenderly, a silent thank you. You feel the heat building in your abdomen again, half the battle won after the way he edged you previously.Â
âDoes that feel good, sweet thing?â he asks, pushing in to the hilt before slowly pulling out again. âYou gonna settle down now that youâre feeling nice and full?â he asks, and you respond with a shake of your head. âNo?â he questions, surprised. He fucks into you slowly, deeply. You feel every inch of him that youâve missed⊠but itâs not the same.
âNoâŠI wanted you to take it offâŠâ you whine. He shakes his head, a little chuckle leaving him.
âYouâre in no place to make demands. Iâm gonna get mine, toss it in the trash, and leave you wishing it was dripping down your thigh. And if youâre smart, youâll say thank you.â
You feel yourself clench around him at his cruel words, making him smirk. So he carries on, picking up his pace as he grips into the softness of your thighs.
âBut youâre not, are you?â he taunts, lowering his head to kiss and suck at your collarbone. âCanât be if you pretended to be interested in my idiot brother. Youâre mine. What do I have to do to get it to stick in that little brain of yours?âÂ
You whisper his name, closing your eyes as your cheeks turn pink, his insults both embarrassing you and bringing you closer and closer to the edge.Â
âI told you Iâm getting mine first. Donât make me tell you again,â he warns, his palm landing on the pillow next to your head as he rests his weight and increases his range of motion. As he moves faster, his thrusts become more brutal as he starts to knock the wind out of you. Itâs getting harder to keep yourself from losing it, your thighs starting to quiver.
He feels it, because he always does, but you can tell by the look on his face he doesnât want to stop. He curses breathlessly and pulls out, his hand leaving your hip and moving down to stroke himself, but he lets out a grunt and pushes up to sit on his heels, looking down at himself.
â...Fuck.â
He wraps his arm under your thigh and tugs you closer, urgently, and sheathes himself inside so quickly you cry out.
âOh, baby. You feel like fucking velvet.â he moans, his head falling back, his moans bouncing off the ceiling. When he pulls back, something feels⊠different. âLooks like you got what you wanted after allâŠâ
He sits back again and pulls out of you, resting his hands on his thighs as he takes a deep breath like he needs to get himself under control. Sitting up on your elbows, you look down at him between your thighs to see the condom has not just broken, but torn. Itâs more than halfway down his shaft, which explains why he felt so slick and warm inside you.
âOhâŠâ you say softly, your lips parting. You stare at him above you, his chest rising and falling, his eyes heavy as they lock onto yours. He lifts one hand, motioning you forward with two fingers, and you know exactly what he wants.Â
âOn your knees.â
You donât hesitate to roll onto your side and stand from the bed, dropping to your knees with your hands in your lap. He watches as you go, waiting until youâre in position to stand himself and approach, raking his hand through your hair almost affectionately. You keep your eyes on him, the way heâs hard and straining against the useless condom.
âDoes being on your knees hurt, little slut? Or is that right where you belong?â he asks, resting the tip of his cock against your lips. âOpen.âÂ
You stick out your tongue, dragging it against the bottom of his tip.
âMore.â he demands, pushing his hips forward. You open your mouth wider as you move to reach up and touch him, but he immediately tells you, âNo.â
Your eyes look up at him, brows furrowing in curiosity as you question silently whether or not heâs going to take the condom off.
Itâs sudden and shocking when he answers your question, grabbing the back of your head and shoving himself in deep. You feel him against your tongue, tasting the lube and feeling the latex on the front end of your tongue.Â
He starts to thrust so quickly, you reach for his thighs to try and push him back. He doesnât seem to care, almost relishing in your struggle, his fist tightening in your hair. As a gag works its way up your throat, he pulls you off of him, gasping for air, saliva dripping down your chin and neck.Â
âHowâs it taste, baby?â he asks, tugging your hair, making you look up at him through bleary eyes, trying to catch your breath. As you open your mouth to answer, he fists himself, shoving himself back into your mouth. You gag immediately and he pulls out, your mouth open as you try to breathe. He doesnât let you, though, grabbing your jaw and spitting directly into your open mouth.Â
âYou better think twice before you complain.âÂ
You snap your jaw shut, swallowing thickly, your eyes popping back open to look up at him in shock. He gives you a crooked smile, pleased with the way heâs managed to throw you off. It only encourages him as you look up at him with wide eyes and try to catch your breath. He quirks a single brow, then runs his tongue over his teeth.Â
âNothing to say?â he asks, challenging you. You shake your head once.
He pushes the head of himself back inside your mouth, then spits again, making you flinch as it lands on your cheek. You squeeze your eyes closed, intending to hollow out your cheeks and suck, but he pulls himself out with a pop and drags his cock through the spit on your face, chuckling.Â
âYouâre starting to smarten up.â he mumbles. âLittle brat.â
He taps the tip of his cock harshly against your lips and you can see the wheels spinning in his head as he plans his next move. âBack on the bed, all fours.â he says, snapping his fingers and pointing to the center of the bed.
You immediately pull yourself from your aching knees and scramble onto the bed, positioning yourself on all fours, just as instructed. You feel the bed dip behind you and you turn your head, seeing the remnants of the condom still intact around him. He makes no effort to remove it, wearing it like a trophy as his hands find your hips. His left hand slides up the curve of your back before pressing a palm to your spine, a silent order to arch a little further.Â
âYouâre trembling. You want it so bad donât youâŠâ he growls, his tip brushing against your entrance. âWant to feel my nice warm cock inside youâŠNothing but me and youâŠYouâd like that wouldnât you, babyâŠâ
âYes.â you breathe, almost a whisper.
âI shouldnâtâŠI should put a new one on right now.â he says, the clench of his jaw audible.Â
He thrusts himself inside of you, the barrier of latex gone between the two of you, letting you feel every ripple and vein of his perfect cock inside of you. It nearly takes your breath away as his hips slam into you. A groan leaves his chest as his hands grip into your hips, and you can feel his hot breath on your back.
His hips crash violently into yours, his pillow soft tip grazing your cervix with every stroke. Heâs struggling to keep his composure, it's evident with his erratic breathing and the stuttering of his hips.Â
You clench around him, a whimper falling from his lips in response, briefly breaking the facade heâs chosen for the evening. âFuck, Y/N⊠Iâ I fucking hate you. You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?â
A pang shoots through your chest, you feel the tension in your stomach start to build as you flutter around him. âI hate that I canât live without you. I hate how much I love you. YouâI canât deny you anythingâŠNot everâŠâ he pauses, his chest heaving. âCanât you see that?â
âJoshâŠâ you beg through panting breaths.Â
âNot yet, youâre gonna wait. Wait until I say, yeah? Can you wait like my good girl?â he says, struggling to stave off his own release.Â
âIâ I canâtâŠâ you whine.Â
âYou will.â he demands, punctuating his sentence with his hips. âFuck, you feel so good, swear to god Iâm gonnaâ fuckâŠâ
âJosh please, please!â you beg, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.Â
âMy little slut begging to cum, oh youâre a fucking vision⊠My angelâŠâ he pauses, sliding his hand around your waist and pinching your nipple between his fingers. You tighten around him and you hear him hiss in response. âOh goddamn, youâre not a fucking angel though, are you⊠Youâre straight from hell.â
His hips start to falter, and you can tell heâs close. You turn your head to look at him, his hair wild and sweaty against his temples, his jaw hanging slack as he watches himself fuck you. His eyes flick up to meet yours, they are dark and his pupils are wide as a slight smile turns his lips.Â
âI know I said I was going to get mine first, but youâve been such a good girl for me. Go on, cum baby. Cum right on my cock, wanna feel you give yourself to me.â he says, nodding his head.Â
His permission throws you right up into the sky, your release washing over you so forcefully that your arms give out below you, sending you tumbling into the sheets. His hands hold you up as he continues to fuck you through it, curses and praise falling from his swollen pink lips.Â
As if your bliss fueled his own, you feel him pull your hips back firmly against him, a groan exploding from his chest once he canât hold on any longer. You feel his cock twitching, his release beginning to spill inside of you as your name falls from his lips. You clench around him and he rapidly pulls out of you, fisting his cock as his cum continues to spill, painting hot white streams across your back.Â
The room is quiet, just the sounds of the two of you attempting to catch your breath. His hand slides up over the curve of your ass, his fingertips catching a drip of his cum before it falls to the sheets below you. His hand reaches around smearing his fingers across your lips, and you can hear him snickering as he leaves his release behind. âA much better shade on you, darling.â
With a smack of your ass you feel him step off of the bed, padding towards the bathroom. âStay there, donât move. I donât want a mess on the sheets.â
You stay put, frozen as you lean down on your elbows and rest your chin in your palm. He comes back out of the bathroom a moment later in his robe and saunters to the stairs. You hear his footsteps slowly descending the steps, the occasional squeak indicating how far away he is.Â
You figure heâs heading to get you a towel from the dryer, so you just sigh and bide your time, feeling the wetness on your back start to get a little cold as the air moves through the room. In the silence, you hear a cabinet opening⊠then a cup being placed on the counter. Your lips part in shock as you realize heâs downstairs making a drink while he leaves you here, messy and exposed. The cherry on top of the punishment heâs dealt you this evening.
Itâs a good, long while before he comes back up the stairs, again, at a leisurely pace. He softly pads across the room, then steps into your line of sight, putting a mug down on the nightstand. He made himself a cup of tea?Â
You sigh, looking at him flatly, a little tired of the game at this point. He steps into the bathroom again, this time reemerging with a warm, wet towel. He approaches the bed and kneels over you, gently wiping you clean as silence settles over you both.
âI made you some tea. In case I was a little rough on your throat.â he says quietly. âI figured I owe you a drink after throwing yours into the bushes.â His tone conveys that heâs remorseful, his voice back to its unique, charming timbre. âListen, I didnât mean to get so⊠worked up. You were right when you said I was threatened by Sam, and I just kind of lost control.âÂ
You hum softly, resting your head on the pillow and looking at him over your shoulder, your eyes soft and tired.
âIâm sorry I pushed you that farâŠâ you say quietly, your voice hoarse. He tosses the towel towards the hamper, standing from the bed. He leans down and places a kiss to your temple as you lay all the way down, just as your back starts to hurt.
You hear him opening your dresser drawer and soon enough heâs back at your side, placing a set of silky, cream colored pajamas and a pair of underwear near your head. He kneels at your bedside, resting his head on the bed to look at you where you lay.
âI picked these out for you when we were in Glasgow. There was this little boutique near the hotel that caught my eye. It was after dinner one night and I tried to call you but the time difference was making a mess of thingsâŠI couldnât get ahold of you and I was just feeling lonely⊠so I took a walk and decided to pop in. I saw them and thought of you immediately. Thought of how theyâd feel when I got back home and in bed with you.â he confesses, petting your hair the whole time he speaks. Thereâs almost a sadness to this story that makes guilt bubble up in your chest. You accused him of never calling, rarely thinking of you, and sending his assistant off to buy you meaningless gifts. The thought of him hand picking it for you while he was feeling lonely thousands of miles away breaks your heart. Â
âIâm sorry I said all that stuff. About the gifts. That was admittedly pretty awful of me.â you squeak out, feeling ashamed of the way you acted and who you painted him to be. âIâve been really hard on you.â
âHard on me?â he asks, a breathy laugh rumbling through him.
âI just⊠I havenât been really considerate about your ear and the stress youâre under and I think Iâve been feeling neglected in a way, so instead of trying to fix it, it was just easier to put all of the blame on you and lose sight of the sacrifices you make for me every day. For us.âÂ
He shakes his head, unwilling to let you accept all the blame. âI havenât exactly made things easy on youâŠâ he says, his voice a little small. âI thinkâno, I know I can do more. I will do more. I fucked up yesterday baby, and Iâm sorry. I should have planned something nice. You deserve that. And Iâm sorry about tonight, fuck, Iâm just sorry for all of it. I love you and I need you and Iâm just really, really sorry.â
He stands from his place on the side of the bed, watching you as you slide into your silky pajamas. He tosses his robe to your vanity chair and joins you on the other side of the bed, pulling back the linen sheets and sliding in next to you.Â
âIâm sorry too. Iâm sorry I was a brat, and Iâm sorry I used Sam to get under your skin. I justâ I wanted your attentionâŠand I know it was stupid and immature⊠I just needed to know you still cared, even just a little bit. I wanted to see it.â you pause, looking into his dark brown eyes.Â
âAnd last night, you just wanted a night in and I wasâŠless than agreeable. I wish we could do it over. You just wanted your comfort food and your favorite movie, home alone with meâŠbut I couldnât see that. I know youâre hurting. I know youâre doing your best and Iâm sorry I was ungrateful. Iâm happy that you were even home. Iâm happy I can take care of you while youâre here.â you say, moving closer to him in the middle of the bed. âI missed you last nightâŠâ
He props himself up on his elbow, his cheeks still a little pink from earlier, and in the dim light of the lamp he is glowing. âI missed you too baby, I knew I fucked up before I even got out of the room. I should have never said that to you. Not ever. Can you forgive me?â he asks, letting his free hand slide across the sheets and grab yours.Â
âCan you forgive me?â you ask, letting your glassy eyes meet his.
âBabyâŠâ the word is a breath from his lips. You reach for him as he wraps his arms around you. You cradle his head in the crook of your neck as he breathes you in and you know all is forgiven between the two of you. You scratch his scalp and pet his velvety shaved sides, holding him close enough that you can feel his heart beating.Â
âCan I make you that soup you like tomorrow? With the kale and the carrotsâŠâ you ask, a whisper against his temple. You feel him nod, a small hum leaving his chest.Â
âAnd I still have that sourdough starter that Jake gave us⊠I can make some bread with it? Does that sound good?â you ask, feeling his grip on you tighten.Â
âOh my god, that starter. Have you been feeding it like he said!? I completely forgot!â he gasps.
You laugh hard enough that it shakes your chest, âOf course I have. He would be so sad if I let it die.â
You feel his body relax against you again, âDo you know how much I love you?â he asks, turning his head to face you.Â
You feel your skin blush as he looks at you, his eyes full of adoration. âA lot?â
âMore than that.â he smiles, his cheek dimple peeking out just a touch. You can hardly stop yourself from pressing your lips to it, your favorite thing.Â
âI love you, alot.â you reply, peppering his face with kisses.Â
âBut there is something that I want to talk to you aboutâŠâ he says, his voice growing a little more serious.Â
âW-what?â you ask nervously, pulling away just a little.Â
âI know youâve been so excited about coming to Spain in a few weeksâŠAnd Iâve really been looking forward to it tooâŠâ he starts, and you feel your heart drop. Is it canceled? Does he not want you to come?
âYeahâŠâ you breathe, anxious to hear what heâs about to say.
âSo, you know itâs been a long time since weâve toured over there, and our normal coordinator isnât able to make it, so we are using a secondary coordinatorâŠIt really throws a wrench into everything. Things are going to be really shaky those first few days with the jet lag and all of that. I justâ I know that itâs gonna be super crazy, and I feel like we probably wonât be able to spend much time together while we get the tour stuff sorted out.â he pauses, and you feel your eyes well with tears. âI just donât want you to come and feel ignored...â
âSo Iâm notââÂ
His face softens as he brings his hand up to cup your cheek, âSo, I went ahead and booked us flights to go a whole week early, just me and you. Found us a quiet little place on the water right outside of Barcelona. It has a big open porch and a giant bed. Itâs so beautiful and I know youâre going to love it. We can do whatever you want, just you and I.â He kisses your forehead before he continues.Â
âAnd before you ask, yes, your boss already knows. I wanted to surprise you when we left, but I figured you would be suspicious that the rest of the guys wouldnât be with us in the airport. I was planning to tell you tonight when we got home, but we saw what happenedâŠâ he smiles, his eyes positively sparkling. âSo, how does that sound, my love? Will you come with me?â
Tears rush to your eyes. You were so prepared to be disappointed again that they were already on their way and this sealed the deal.
âThat sounds so perfect,â you manage to squeak out as he wipes away an errant tear sliding down towards your pillow. When he pulls you in for a tender kiss, you can feel him smiling against your lips. âMy coworkers are going to kill me for going on a two week vacation during tax seasonâŠâ
âIâm sure theyâll be okay.â he says, brushing it off with a soft laugh. âThey probably ate your strawberries yesterday, so you can call it even.â You suck your teeth at that, lips parting in shock.
âThey better not have! Iâm out for one day and the wolves descend?â
âIâm sure theyâll be there waiting for you Monday.â He soothes, pulling the sheets and comforter up higher over the both of you, pulling you in close as his little spoon. âBut just in case⊠Maybe we can get some melting chocolate at the store tomorrow and make our own for dessert?â he mumbles softly.Â
âOh, Iâd love thatâŠâ you say, pleasantly surprised at his effort already. He holds you tight, nuzzling into your hair. His hands are soft and warm as they sneak up under the silky pajamas, a comforting touch after so many nights spent in this bed alone.
âItâs a date, my love.âÂ
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big boy energy
Jisung Ă Fem!reader
notes: this is my first text in English, so I'm feeling nervous đŹ English is not my native language, so forgive me for any errors or mistakes like that!! And that's it!! I hope you enjoy it!!
w.c: 0,7k
tw: none
I don't even know if this is good. I write more to see how my English vocabulary is doing, but anyway!!
Good read, sweeties!! â€ïž
Your older brother's getting married in a few months, and dance lessons were scheduled for the couple and the godparents to avoid any embarrassment on the big day. Right now, you have no clue who your dance partner will be because your brother keeps saying, âHer right dance partner will show up any minuteâ.
You're chilling in a chair, adjusting your high heels for dancing, when you hear a noise from the salon door, and your eyes immediately snap in that direction.
â Hey guys, am I late? Sorry, my flight was delayed â Says the guy standing by the door. Jisung looks taller and stronger than the last time you saw him, but he still has that same sparkle in his eyes from when you were kids. Jisung, just two years older than you, used to mess with your braids all the time.
It was tough when he left town to study and work in Korea, his country of origin. You couldn't help but miss him, even though it seemed like he didn't give a damn about leaving you behind.
You kinda resented him for that because you've always had a thing for him, but he either didn't notice or didn't feel the same. I mean, you used to like him, but now that you see him another time, your heart can't help but race.
â Jisungie! You're not tired, are you? â Your brother asks. Jisung, dressed all black, looks even hotter than usual â I've got a mission for you.
â I'm good, let's do it â Jisung says, meeting your gaze with a nostalgic sweetness. You finally stand up, and thankfully, you don't trip and fall flat on your face.
â You'll be dancing with my sister, okay? â Your brother practically pushes Jisung in your direction. Jisung smiles at you, and all you can do is cross your arms and scowl.
â I hate you both â You mutter to Jisung and your brother as he heads back to his fiancĂ©e, sticking his tongue out at you in a teasing way. The dance teacher starts the class, and you even have the chance to complain to Jisung. He holds you tighter, causing you some agitation, but all you can focus on is trying to breathe normally while his face is so close to yours.
â Did you miss me, shawty? â He asks, leading the dance with skill, not like the same boy from years ago who learned to salsa from âShall We Dance?â while you were sighing over the charmer Richard Gere.
â I'm not giving you the answer you want, Andy Park â You say, and Jisung chuckles softly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, but you brush them off, wrapping your arms around his neck like they were made to be there.
â I prefer when you call me Jisungie, babe.
â I preferred it when you didn't leave me alone, babe â You retort, stepping on his feet. Jisung lets out a low groan but still holds you close, dancing like there's no one else in the room.
â I'm sorry for letting you down all this time. I'm an asshole, it's true â Jisung admits, acknowledging all the times you two didn't talk when you really wanted to, even if it was just to argue, something you did a lot as kids â Can we make peace, pretty please? Go back to the way things used to be?
You hesitate for a moment before letting a small smile slip.
â Like the old times, huh?
â But this time, I really wanna kiss you â Jisung whispers in your ear, and your heart feels like it's about to leap out of your chest. You feel his cheek against yours, and if you don't answer him soon, you might just pass out.
â Andy...
â Keep calling me like that, and I'll kiss you right here, not giving a fuck about your brother and my best friend â He says, planting a soft kiss on your cheek, leaving you dizzy with his scent filling the room, making it hard to breathe. You muster up the courage to speak, looking into his eyes.
â When did you get this big boy energy?
â I don't know, but you better enjoy it, cutie.
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random dp x dc writing
i suddenly had an idea for a new dp x dc crossover fic, here's a piece of it!
đŠ
âSo much for movie night.â Tucker complains.
Sam groans, stretching her legs as Danny gets up, and transforms. The rings come easily to him now, unlike they had just a little more than two years ago. Their ghost-hunting tech had merely been discarded to the side after their patrol before they settled for the movie night.
âYou guys can stay here.â Danny says, pushing himself into the air. âI told Skulker and Technus to pass along the message to the other usuals, but maybe somebody else didnât get the memo.â The Box Ghost surely hadnât; but, then again, the Box Ghost doesnât usually get any news from the Ghost Zone. Or maybe he does, and he doesnât care. Either way, the cardboard-loving menace was stuck in thermosland right now, and Danny wasnât going to let him out until after they found out if Amelia would survive INVASION OF THE KILLER TEACHERS III: SCHOOLâS OUT or if she would become another zombie student.
âYou sure?â
âYeah. Iâll make it quick.â Danny allows himself to turn invisible and intangible, and slingshots himself through the roof of Samâs house and into the sky. The clouds that had been moving in during their patrol clouded Amity Park in a dreary autumn rain. Leaves that had begun to turn were blown off the trees by the wind, and a distant rumble of thunder echoes in the distance.
Once upon a time, the storm wouldâve terrified Danny. It would bring too many bad memories, of electricity burning through his skin, killing him and bringing him to life at the same time. But now, as a flash of lightning hit the sky, he canât deny the surge of energy and delight in his core.
Stupid electric core.
âAh! Sir Phantom!â
It isnât one of his usual rogues for once. Instead, itâs a familiar face, and an ally. He calms down a bit at the sight of Lady Dorothea. Heâs still a little annoyed that his movie night is being interrupted, but at least itâs by another friend.
Plus, heâs sure Lady Dorothea, whoâs working hard at modernizing her kingdom, probably wouldnât understand what a movie night was, anyway.
âHey, Dorothea!â Danny drops his shoulders. He keeps himself intangible, feeling the rain fall through him. Lady Dorothea is intangible as well. âIs everything okay? Does your brother need to get his ass kicked into next week again?â
âNo, not quite.â Lady Dorothea sighs. âI do need your assistance, but it is not for kicking any asses this time. Something⊠else has happened.â
âSomething else?â
Lady Dorothea nods. âYes. A few cycles ago, a newly-formed ghost stumbled into the castle gardens. My head gardener, Montagu, had found him stumbling through the hedges, and our healers were able to stabilize him before he could have faded, but thenâŠâ She bites her thumbnail nervously. A roar of thunder echoes around them. â⊠Sir Phantom, I believe he may be a halfa.â
Danny blinks at her. âSorry, what? Did you say thereâs another halfa?â
âYes, I didâ Sir Phantom, as far as my kingdom has come with modernization, I do not believe we have the capabilities of assisting a halfa, let alone one so young. I, no, we need your help, as soon as you are able to.â
A new halfa. Dannyâs brain feels like itâs melting and spinning at the same time. Heâd never encountered this before. Was that what Danny had felt? The new Halfa, forming? Or, well, maybe transforming for the first time, or something. He felt like pop-rocks were bursting under his skin, and he could feel a few stray sparks shoot off from his hands.
A new halfa.
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