#haven’t really flushed this out yet but it would be cool as shit

[championofnyx]

If Emily plays a new character for senior year I think it should be a resurrected Lucy. How awesome would that be???? For Lucy to get adopted by the bad kids, to be taken care of after Porter and Jace are taken care of. Maybe the Rat Grinders are rehabilitated and are kind of in the back round. Maybe there not. Whatever, I think it would be a really cool dynamic. Lucy seemed like the heart of the high five heroes and the bad kids would need a new one if Fig leaves.

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Burning Hearts Chapter 14

Pairing: Law x Straw Hat Zoan Type (named) OC 

Summary: You were teleported across the globe in an instant, away from your crew. Your body was badly broken and beaten, thrust into the harsh landscape of a Northern island. You are discovered by the Heart Pirates and brought back to health. Startled upon waking up in a foreign place with an unfamiliar crew, you are shocked with the news that you’ll be spending two years there. Trafalgar Law, the captain of the Heart Pirates has made a promise to train you, but will it become something more than a mentor relationship?

**MINORS DNI THANKS**

WC: 2700

Taglist: @zoros-fourth-sword @cottoncandyloverrrr @nothing-but-brass @airwolf92

Burning Hearts Chapter 14

— — 

You were having a shower early in the morning before training when you hear the bathroom door swing open. You jolt and cover yourself with your hands involuntarily, even though the shower door glass was frosted. 

“Knock much?!” You call out from behind the glass over the thundering of the shower over your head. 

“I knew it was you from the smell of the shampoo, relax.” Ikkaku’s familiar voice floats over the shower door into your ears. 

“Jeez you scared the shit out of me. Last thing I need is Jean Bart coming in and ogling my boobs.” You sigh in relief after realizing it was just your friend coming in to take care of her own morning routine. 

“Hah, Law’d cut his head off. And I’m pretty sure anyone living here wouldn’t mind ogling your boobs. Maybe Bepo, I’m not sure what he’s into and frankly I’d rather not know.” Ikkaku shouts at you as she uses the toilet with the door to the private restroom open to the rest of the bathroom. 

“You could close that, you know- AH! BITCH!” You holler as you hear her flush the toilet and the cascading water becomes scalding hot on your head. “Oh SORRY!” Ikkaku laughs as you cower in the corner of the shower stall and wait for the temperature of the water to go back to normal. 

“Ugh. Rat.” You grumble and rinse the conditioner out of your hair once the water had cooled down. Once satisfied you had thoroughly cleaned your hair, you stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel to wrap around your torso. You throw another towel in your hair to tie it up to dry. You walk over to the sink next to where Ikkaku was brushing her teeth. 

“Does everything have to be a nightmare in this shithole?” You chide her from the sink adjacent to hers, putting toothpaste on your own tooth brush. 

“Yes. Can’t believe you haven’t figured that- WOAH!” Ikkaku exclaims and gasps as she looks over at you. 

“What? What is it? A bug?” You look down at your chest and start patting your towel as your toothbrush hangs out of your mouth. 

“What the fuck is THAT?!” Ikkaku points at you accusatorially. 

“WHAT IS WHAT? AM I BLEEDING?” You panic and spin around and look down your legs at anything that might be ailing you without your knowledge. 

“Your fucking NECK, Daisy!” Ikkaku cries out at you. 

You look in the mirror. 

A large red-purple splotchy bruise the exact size of someone’s mouth was prominent on your neck. 

“Fuck…” You touch it and scowl in the mirror. 

“No WAY!!! You guys finally-“ Ikkaku claps her hands together and jumps up and down.

“NO WE DID NOT!” You spit out the toothpaste in the sink and rinse your mouth out. You sigh and inspect the mark further. “We’ve never done anything like that, last night he was just out of it… after all those brownies he wasn’t really himself…” 

“That makes sense.” Ikkaku begins to apply moisturizer on her face in the mirror next to you. 

“Wait… why does that make sense?” You ask as you braid your hair. 

“Well I figured it would take awhile seeing as he’s a you-know-what.” Ikkaku states as she pulls her hair back in her signature yellow headband. 

You turn towards your friend in confusion. 

“No I-don’t-know-what? What is he? Gay?” You ask. 

Ikkaku rolls her eyes. 

“Seriously, D? A virgin. He’s a virgin. Just look at the guy, you haven’t figured that out yet?” Ikkaku asks you with a raised eyebrow. 

You look from her back to yourself in the mirror. You run your fingers over the hickey on your neck. It made sense. He was such a terrible kisser before you had started giving him the chance to practice. He was always so hesitant to even look in your eyes when he wasn’t on some sort of mind altering substance. Gods you almost felt bad, hoping that you hadn’t made him feel uncomfortable in your last few private moments… wait.. no, he had initiated both of them…

“Oh…” You say quietly, more to yourself than your friend. 

“Duh?” Ikkaku continues. “Just look at the guy. He wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy if it was served to him on a silver platter. None of these losers would. They like comic books and painting tiny action figures, I doubt any of them have seen two boobs at the same time on purpose.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. 

“I’d rather have a guy too nervous to touch me than someone who’s too pushy.” You say as you look down into the sink. 

“You’re in luck then. Better get out there and train before he thinks you’ve bailed.” Ikkaku smiles and you continue to get ready for the day. 

— — 

After another intense training session, you find yourself trailing behind Law through the forest on your way back to the base. 

“Ooof!” You trip over a tree root and faceplant into the ground. 

“It’s the same path every day, and you’re still this clumsy?” Law states as you pick yourself up and continue your journey. 

“No need to be so critical! I’m much lighter in the air nowadays than I am on my feet!” You spread your wings and do a quick flip over the warlord’s head so that you were now in front of him on the path. 

“Yeah, since you’ve changed your mind about your powers. You’re still a klutz.” Law scoffs at you with a smirk. 

“Can I ask you something?” You flap your wings and glide seamlessly backwards along the path above the ground in front of him as he walks. 

“Sure.” Law stares at the dirt as he continues trudging along. 

“Are you a virgin, Law?” You ask while continuing your wingbeats backwards towards the base. 

Law stops dead. 

“I.. why are you asking me that?!” Law raises his voice at you, not meeting your gaze. 

“Because…” You land on the ground in front of him. “We’re involved… in some capacity… I don’t think you can deny that after last night…” You flip your long, flowered, braided hair over your shoulder exposing his own bite mark to him. He looks up at you briefly.

“I-I did that? I’m sorry… I can give you some ice for the bruising I- ” Law says after composing himself, but quickly looks back down at the dirt. 

“Don’t avoid the question. It’s okay if you are. I’m not exactly well versed in the subject either…” You chuckle and kick a rock around on the ground. 

“I am.” 

There was a silence. 

You broke it. 

“Thank you for telling me. If it makes you feel better, I’ve never really done anything… not on my terms at least…” Your smile fades. 

“W-why would that make me feel better?! Daisy I.. I’m scared to hurt you.. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable… not after everything-“ Law lifts his head and steps towards you. 

“I don’t want to talk about that, not right now at least. I’m just glad we could be honest with each other.” You say awkwardly and meet his eyes, sparkling with both nerves and affection. 

“Mhm.” Law nods and gestures for you to keep walking. 

The two of you walk side by side down the forest path in silence for several minutes before Law speaks. 

“I was thinking we could take the Tang into town this weekend. I want to stop at that bookstore again and grab a few more medical supplies since you keep tripping over trees and hurting yourself.” 

“As I recall, you were the last one to need medical attention aboard this crew.” You smirk. “So should we tell Bepo and them that they’ll need to get ready for a trip?”

“No, just you and I will go. That way we can continue training. I think you’re on the edge of a breakthrough with your powers… They can handle themselves on their own here. You’ll have to talk to Bepo about the Tang’s controls, though. I don’t want to run into trouble out there with a rookie who’s only taken the sub out once.” Law continues trudging through the woods.

“I can do that.” You smile. “Last one to the base is a huge fucking nerd!” You spread your wings again and alight above the tree line. You soar over the tops of green firs and pines and hone in on the cold metal structure that was the Heart Pirates safe house that you’ve called home for months now. You land on the ground in front of the steel door and chuckle, out of breath, sure that you’ve beaten your adversary in the race. 

You raise your gaze to see Law casually standing with his sword slung over his shoulder, leaning against the reinforced door casually. 

“I don’t know why you thought you’d win that one, nerd.” Law smirks and heads into the base in front of you. 

— — 

The next day, you spent your afternoon aboard the docked submarine with Bepo in the control room listening to him lecture about the knobs, buttons, and screens. It was painfully boring. 

“If you see here, this red lever controls the speed of the vessel. There are two jet thrusters on the back of the ship and if you push the lever forward to the top it increases- Miss Daisy are you even looking?” Bepo turns around and looks at you from his position at the control panel aboard the Polar Tang. 

You were lounging with your legs up in the captain’s chair and spinning it around in a circle with a lit joint in your hand. 

“Yeah man, up fast, down slow. Think I got it- Hey!” You protest as Bepo puts out a leg to stop your chair from spinning and forcing you to look up at him. 

“This is serious! Anything could happen out there and you need to be prepared! And the captain would kill you if he knew you were smoking in here!” Bepo scowls at you. 

“Doesn’t he smoke cigarettes in here?” You cock your head and ask. 

“Well yes but that’s different! It’s-“ Bepo stumbles over his reasoning. 

“Aaaah I see, rules for thee, not for me.” You sigh and take another hit off your joint. “Relax, big guy. I may look like a dumb bimbo, but I’m a lot smarter than you think. I can handle this.”

Bepo sighs. 

“I’ll only be a call away on the transponder snail if you guys get eaten by a sea king or something and I can take the smaller sub out to get you.” 

“Pretty sure the snails don’t get service inside of internal organs.” 

“You don’t know that!”

— — 

“Fuck!”

You grab more cotton balls off you bedside table and aggressively pack them into your ears. You sigh and flop back down into bed on your stomach and put the pillow over your head. You never thought having Ikkaku as a next door neighbor would be an issue, but it seems her own training sessions with a certain crew member were going very well.

“Ugh gross!” You groan as you try to drown out your friend’s cries of ecstasy from beyond your bedroom wall. Were they getting even louder? You were so tired and desperate for sleep that you didn’t even have half a mind to be jealous of the hot action Ikkaku was getting. You look at the clock. 2:47 AM.

“Gods just finish already!” You gripe as you try to bury your head further into your mattress. It was no use, you could still hear the high pitched whines and cries clear as day through the wall. You had enough, you needed to sleep. You decide there’s only one option left, a risky one, but you were exhausted. You grab your pillow and your stuffed reindeer and make your way out of your room and down the hall. 

You arrive at the captain’s quarters and knock on the door. You hear a muffled “Yeah?” From the other side and push your way in, pillow and stuffie in hand. 

“Hi…” You call out tentatively. 

“Daisy? It’s so late. What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Law quickly steps from his adjacent bedroom and into his office to greet you, pulling a t shirt over his head. 

“Ugh. Can’t sleep. The lovebirds’ song is a bit too loud this evening. Can I stay here? I’ll crash on the couch.” You gesture towards the loveseat and pick the cotton balls out of your ear canals. 

“No you won’t. Take my bed, come on.” Law gestures you towards his room. “Also wait- what song? Someone has music on?” He asks.

“Ugh I wish it was just music.” You groan. “I think Ikkaku is training Peng too well because she was really getting it tonight. Completely insane, the things I heard.” You shudder and walk past Law’s confused figure and slumped through the archway that led to his bedroom. 

“I.. I’m not sure what you mean? Is anyone hurt?” Law knits his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Gods she’d kill me if she knew I told you, but long story short she and Peng have been having… dates? Well basically he goes down on her and then sleeps over. She’s usually not this loud but JEEZ… and you CAN’T say anything!” You sit down on the side of Law’s bed and settle your pillow at the head. 

“He goes- what?” Law was still in the dark. You were going to have to spell it out for him… wow he really was a total virgin. 

You sigh. 

“Oral sex, Law. ‘Going down’ on someone, that’s what that is. You know? When somebody puts another person’s genitals in their mouth? Like for pleasure-“

“Okay okay that’s enough!” Law shuts his eyes tightly and waves his hands at you. He shakes his head, as if trying to erase a mental image. “So, how long has that been going on?” He asks you. 

“Longer than you’d think. I’m happy for them but I’d be even happier if I didn’t have to be front row in the audience. Thanks for letting me stay, I’m beat.” You slip your legs under the thing quilt and lay down, clutching your stuffed deer to your chest. “Are you coming to bed?” You ask, seeing Law still standing in the doorway. 

“Yeah, I’ll hit it on the couch.” 

“Oh come on. It’s your bed. I’m not forcing you out. Just come lay down and get some rest.” You scoot over and make room next to you. 

“No… I shouldn’t…” Law’s eyes were locked on the floor. 

“Seriously? Last time I was here you came in your pants, I think you can handle sleeping in the same bed.” 

“W-why would you say-“ Law stutters. 

“I’m just teasing you!” You chuckle and throw the covers open, further beckoning him in. “What’s the point of being stuck here if I can’t mess with you? Now get in here.” You laugh and pat the mattress next to you. 

Law sighs and throws his shirt off over his head, leaving it on his bedroom floor as he approaches the bed. Law silently slinks into his own bed next to you and lays down. You smile and turn your back to him and rest your head on the pillow. 

“Now, no funny business, Miss Rito.” Law whispers and reaches up a cold hand to pinch at your hip. You could hear the stupid smirk in his voice. 

“I can’t make any promises, Mr Trafalgar.” You laugh and push your hips backwards into his gently as he wraps his arm fully around you from the back. 

Law kisses the back of your head. 

“Get some sleep.” 

You gladly oblige and drift off into a comfortable slumber with Law’s lithe body wrapped around you. 

— 

xx

*Author's Note: HI EVERYONE! Sorry this took forever! I have some ideas bopping around for the next chapter so it should be out soon. Yes, Miss D will reunite with her crew, but we've still got more time with Sir Law for now! Once again if you guys have any feedback or ideas for upcoming chapters PLEASE TELL ME! I love yall :)*

[sadhours]

Wicked Sensation

part six // billy hargrove x f!reader

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve | part thirteen | part fourteen | part fifteen | part sixteen | part seventeen

word count: 5.1k

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, oral (f recieving), slapping, dirty talk, billy being agressive, steve being too good of a guy, angst, underage drinking

“You can take me,” you tell Steve before he has a chance to say hello.

You’d lied awake for hours after Billy had left last night, thinking about how while at first the idea of going to the dance with Steve as a game to Billy you’ve come to realize that’s exactly what it was, a game to Billy. It hurt that he would use the opportunity to have yet another leg up on Steve in this dumb feud they had going on. And it wasn’t even like Steve would know, it was like Billy wanted to hurt him and play mind games Steve wouldn’t even realize Billy was behind. You thought about calling off the whole plan but decided you deserved to actually have some fun and Steve was very much that. Conversations between you two were as easy as they come. Steve made you laugh and you liked the contrast between his easy going attitude and Billy’s intensity.

“Really?” Steve chirped, “Awesome, so uh, cool, cool, yeah.”

“I’ll pick a red dress,” you interpret his stuttering, hand on his chest because you see Billy out of the corner of your eye and maybe you can play the game to your advantage. “Pick me up at 5 for dinner.”

You wave goodbye, eyes darting back to see Billy with amused wide eyes which he has to mask quickly when Tommy walks up to him. You wonder who Billy’s going to go to the dance with, the idea making your stomach twist in jealousy. Which only worsens when you get to class and hear other girls talking about it. Since he hadn’t been making moved on anyone and was seemingly single they figured it was open season.

“You think he’s going to ask someone? Would it be totally weird to ask him?” you overhear Peggy’s voice and roll your eyes. Of course she’s still pining over him. Then you fall down a rabbit hole of thinking about Billy having sex with these girls. Did he touch them the way he touched you? The sensations were extremely hard to forget, not that you really tried to. Was what you two shared special and saved just for you or did he make all these other women crumble under his touch as well? You’re thinking about it for the rest of the school day, flashes of Billy sweating over top the list of women you know he’s been with.

“Why are you so quiet?” he asks on the ride home. Max has headphones on so you’re tempted to admit the reason you haven’t said a single word to him but it just doesn’t feel like the right moment. The two of you never talked about feelings when the sun was still out.

“Just a weird day,” you explain which isn’t exactly a lie.

“Is it about winter formal? Listen, I’d like to take you but…” He starts.

You interrupt, “It’ll ruin what we have.” You’ve heard him say it a couple times. You’ve told him you understand every time. “That’s not what I’m upset about.”

Billy squeezes your thigh and you picture him doing it to every bitch that’s been in his car so you jerk away. “I’m fine,” you insist and look out the window.

He backs off with a sigh, turning the dial up on his stereo to drown out the bad mood. You don’t say bye when he parks in front of his house, storming in your house and slamming the door behind you. Since the house is empty you scream out, closing your eyes tight when you do so and not giving a shit if Billy could hear it. However, you don’t expect to see your dad and little brother running into the living room.

“Oh,” your cheeks flush, “I thought I was alone.”

Your dad looks even more worried than before, “You okay?”

“I got asked to Winter Formal,” you tell him, tossing your backpack on the ground. “What are you two doing home?”

“Your brother is ‘sick’,” your dad says with air quotes, “Had to leave work early to get him. The neighbor boy ask you?”

“No, Billy didn’t ask me. One of the most popular boys asked me,” you vent to him.

He takes the opportunity, you usually never complained about your love life to him. He grabs a beer from the fridge and offers it to you, “Why didn’t Billy ask you if he’s been sneaking into your room for months?”

“His dad wouldn’t like me,” you admit, opening the beer and guzzling it down. You half expect your dad to scold you but he doesn’t.

“Ya know, I had to work on his dads car the other week… he’s a real dick,” your dad levels with you.

“So I’ve heard.”

“Did you say yes?” he asks, grabbing a beer for himself.

“I… Billy told me to and I do want to go so yes, I said yes. But I don’t want to hurt this guy because I like him but… I like him like I like Eddie,” you spew out.

Your dad sighs, joining you at the kitchen table. “It’s not good to lead people on. I think you oughta tell this fella you just want to be friends.”

You think about your light flirting with Steve earlier that day. It felt good to flirt with him but it’s not like you wanted to break things off with Billy to pursue Steve. “I know,” you sigh, “I just wish things could be different with Billy.”

“Compromise is important. I learned that with your mom. I wished things were different with her but when I look back, I wished I was more patient and compassionate,” your dad reveals and it breaks your heart a bit. You missed your mom but you thought your dad was a good guy and if she couldn’t even bother to check in every once in a while then maybe she was the bad actor.

You have no idea how to talk to your dad about your mom leaving so you just nod, “You’re right…” you sigh and stand up, “I’m gonna go out front for a bit.”

Your dad grins with a nod, “Do what feels right, pumpkin.”

When you’re outside you see Billy taking out the trash, watching as you light your smoke and you raise your beer to him. He shakes his head but he’s smiling before he blows you a kiss. You feel your heart skip a bit, swooning for him easily before he’s back inside. You couldn’t tell your dad about the intimate reasons you were upset. You didn’t bother Eddie with sexual details or problems so that left the problem to talk to it about. Which you weren’t looking forward to but for your sanity you had to ask him.

-

You’re waiting for Billy to call since you’d kind of given him the cold shoulder you expected him to give you space. You glance to your alarm clock and see it’s nearing midnight. If he was gonna call it would have been by now. You sigh and get up, standing in your mirror while you undress. You watch yourself and wonder if anything was different between you and Peggy, underneath it all. Peggy probably wears nighties, you think and without much of a second thought, you’re digging in your closet for the one you own, a Christmas present from your grandma. You hold the hanger in front of you, a simple white slip with a delicate lace along the décolletage. She’d probably wear something like this, you think as you pull it over your naked body.

Knock, knock. Your head snaps towards the window to see Billy looking back at you with a surprised grin on his face. You walk over, unlocking the window before sliding it open.

“I’ve never seen that before,” he says, his mouth hanging open when he’s finished.

“You’re gonna drool,” you shut is jaw with a gentle hand before helping him inside.

Billy shuts the blinds behind him and wraps his arms around your waist, “You expecting me?”

“Oh, god, you would like this,” you roll your eyes and pull away.

Billy grabs your wrist and tilts his head, quizzically, “Am I not supposed to?”

“No!” You exclaim, “It’s not me! You’re not supposed to like it!”

His smile falters and his eyebrows knit together in confusion, “What’s going on?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you suddenly feel exposed and ashamed. Billy’s fingers dance under your elbow and arms. He steps closer, eyes expectant while he waits for you to answer. You’re afraid you’ll start to cry if you open your mouth, looking up at him fearful.

“Baby…” he mutters, “Talk to me.”

His voice is quiet but his eyes on you make the room seem smaller and smaller with each second.

“Am… am I different?”

“Incredibly,” he whispers, “Weirdest person I’ve met.” The smirk on his face isn’t soothing in any way.

“No… like,” you let out a shaky breath. “Do you touch other girls like you touch me?”

Confusion and anger cover his expressions, “What? I haven’t touch-“

“When you did, before me, after we did, I mean have you fucked them like me or is it different?” you interrupt him, finally relieved to get this off your chest.

Billy pauses, unsure of how to answer that question or what exactly it implied. He couldn’t help if he knew how to make women come undone for him. “What are you talking about?”

“Peggy wants to ask you to the dance. You fucked her forever ago and she’s still thinking about you. I can’t fathom the thought of you… I don’t know, Billy.”

“Hey, hey,” he sits you down the bed and gets on his knees between your legs, “it is so different for you and I.”

“You made them feel how you make me feel,” you mutter out, the tears spilling out finally.

“But I’m here with you, I stopped sleeping with other girls, babe. For you. You make me feel better than they ever could,” he says and you can’t believe the words coming from him or how easy it is for him to comfort you. “I don’t care if they still want me, you shouldn’t either. They can’t have me, but you do.”

“But Billy… they still talk about you,” you blubber, palms smearing your tears away as they coat your flushed cheeks.

He sighs then, sitting on his heels. He’s quiet for a second and then he’s taking his dagger earring off and putting it on your ear. You hadn’t even realized he took it back from you. “Have this. Wear it everyday. I know it’s not me screaming from the rooftops that we’re together but it’s what I can do for now,” he’s saying, eyes trained on hours.

The gesture is sweet and calms you down slightly. He laces his fingers in yours and squeezes, “You’re different in the best way. I promise you, it’s different. I actually like you.”

You smile, “You mean it?”

“Lemme show you,” Billy’s bunching your night gown up and his mouth is between your legs. You watch him, licking between your folds and the sensation sends shivers up your spine. Say what they will, they didn’t have Billy like you did.

His fingers snake up your nightgown and graze against your nipple, tongue focused at your opening, sliding into you. Falling onto your back, your fingers grip his curls and pull him closer.

“Billy… feels so good…” you praise, lifting your feet to the edge of the mattress.

“Tastes even better,” he pulls away to mumble and the compliment floors you, pushing his face back.

His tongue broadly licks up your slit, shaking his head to aid when the tip of his tongue is pressed at your clit. Every concern slipping away from his deliberate actions. He’s entering you with two fingers and you feel the pressure building efficiently, tearing you apart expertly.

“I’m.. I’m gonna cum,” you stutter out, thighs clenching around his face and your back arched.

Billy quickens his pace, nodding his head up and down while his fingers twist and curl inside you. When you start to pant, he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks which pushes you over the edge. “Billy!” you gasp, pulling at his hair and thrashing against his face.

“You’re mine,” he says when your faces meet again, tearing the nightie off of you.

“Mine..” you mumble out lazily, your body still on cloud nine.

“Yours,” Billy’s mouthing against your ear, peeling his shirt from his torso. You help him with his shoes and pants even though you’re suddenly exhausted. You want him to have you.

“Say it again,” you whimper, feeling his tip press against your entrance.

“I’m yours,” he says through gritted teeth as he inches inside of you.

“All mine,” you say, drunk on the passion as you wrap your legs around his waist and tug him closer.

Billy bites your bottom lip then, pushing the rest of the way and you feel him fill you up. You moan into his mouth when his fingers curl around your hip, everything falling apart around the two of you. He falters a bit, chuckling softly when he stills.

“Jesus,” he exhales, “I’m already close… give me a minute.”

It’s the highest compliment he could’ve paid you and you giggle back, “Thank you.”

“Oh, shut up,” he seethes but he’s smiling.

“You last long with them?” you tease, fingers grazing his chest and then curling around the necklace he’s always wearing. You think it’s the Virgin Mary, definitely something catholic.

Billy gently flicks your nose, looking pointedly at you, “This doesn’t typically happen, no.”

You shudder underneath him, tightening your legs around his waist. The stimulation takes his breath from his lungs and he’s pushing you down by your chest, “Give me a minute for fucks sake.”

“What if I want you to cum?” you challenge, rolling your hips against him.

“Then I will,” he keeps his palm pressed hard on your sternum. He starts moving again, pounding hard into you. Hard enough that it startles you and actually kind of hurt. You gasp and he grabs your chin roughly, tilting your head back but his eyes fierce. “But you’re gonna look at me while I do it. You look away and I won’t be happy.”

You’re curious so you tear your eyes away from his face, down to his chest. Billy’s quick to slap you, grabbing onto your jaw again and scolding you, “I fucking mean it.”

“Yes, Sir…” you pant, the carnal assault bringing a flood of arousal from you, only making the sound of his pumping into your wetness louder.

“Good girl,” he spits and it doesn’t sound like praise but like he expects this from you.

“You like when I’m a good girl?” you say through pouted lips.

Billy grits his teeth, thumb digging into your cheek. “Good girls don’t ask dumb questions,” he fumes, his hips relentless against you.

“I’m only bad for you,” you counter, your confidence in speaking is a show of how close you are to a second orgasm.

“I want you to be good right now,” he pants, holding his gaze into your eyes. You wonder if your banter is helping postpone or hastening his own climax.

“Make me be good,” you challenge and Billy’s pulling out to flip you over onto your stomach, grabbing your wrists in his hands and pinning them behind against the small of your back as he penetrates you hard.

“You little slut,” he slanders, driving his hips back and forth at a harsh pace. He’s successful shutting you up, the ferocious onslaught pushing the air from your lungs. He spanks your ass as he unloads inside of you, your own orgasm erupting in sync with him.

“Billy!” you cry out, shaking beneath him.

You both come down, breathing like you’d been holding it in for hours.

“I assure you, it was never anything like that,” he pants, eyes tightly closed.

-

Dress shopping was not fun. You’d dragged Eddie along for moral support but he wasn’t help at all, laughing at most ensembles you’d tried on. “You look like a cake topper.”

“That’s it,” you say, staring back at a foreign reflection. “I’m not going.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Oh, come on.”

Like some saving grace, you see Billy walking into the store. You lift an eyebrow in surprise, asking what he’s doing there. Then Max walks in behind him, looking out of place just like you.

“I need a dress,” she mutters and you smile, happy that someone had asked her to the Snowball Dance.

“It’s slim Pickens,” you inform her.

“Why not this?” Billy holds up a sleek, red gown. There’s no frills to it at all and you wonder why you couldn’t find it.

“Huh, more my style than Max’s,” you counter and Billy guffaws.

“Gee, I wonder why,” he shoves the hanger in your hand.

You slip away to try the dress on and realize just what a saving grace Billy was. It was like he knew your body better than you did. The god damn thing fit you like a glove, even if it had an absurd amount of cleavage spilling out. You’d never felt sexier, staring back at the mirror. You decide to make Billy wait, changing out of the dress but holding it to your chest.

“Please tell me it’s a winner?” Eddie begs, a hopeful glint in his eye. You’d promised to visit the comic store after this.

“Billy’s omnipresent or something,” you mutter, not wanting to admit he’d picked the perfect dress for you within seconds of arriving.

Billy smirks, “Ya gonna make me wait to see it, huh?”

“Max! Let me help you find something,” you usher the redhead off, not wanting to give Billy the satisfaction.

When you glance back to see him and Eddie getting along, your heart skips a beat thinking of what could be if only he didn’t have to keep you hidden. You shove it down, watching at what Max pulls from the racks. She doesn’t seem to like anything so you counter, “I went to the Snowball dance both years in junior high. You don’t really have to wear a dress.”

“My mom wants me to pick a dress out,” she counters and you nod.

“Let’s try to find something simple, then. I’m not much of a dress girl either, but our dance has a strict dress code,” you say. After a moment of thumbing through the racks, you pull one out, just a simple green dress. “How about this?”

Max looks at it intrigued, fingertips ghosting the velvet. “I guess this could work,” she decides, grabbing it from you and heading towards Billy. She hands it to him and says, “Here.”

Billy looks over to you appreciatively, “Well that was painless.” But he snakes to snatch the dress in your hand, taking it to the counter. You protest but it’s fruitless. Billy’s paying for your dress and handing the bag to you. “I’ll see you around.”

Eddie scoffs as Billy and Max walk out of the boutique, “That guy is something else.”

“I’ll say,” you sigh, grabbing Eddie’s hand and pulling him towards the comic store.

-

With knuckles against your door, Steve feels anxious. You were hard to understand, pushing and pulling away from him. He couldn’t read you at all and that was part of what kept him interested. As he’s waiting outside, he catches Billy and his little step sister walking to his Camaro.

“King Steve,” he hears behind him, having turned away. Billy’s standing there, wearing a suit, hair meticulously styled and a simple stud in his ear.

“Can I help you?” Steve challenges, his hair is always perfectly sculpted, he spent an hour on it.

“No,” Billy shrugs, but before he can continue your dad opens the door.

“Hi, Dale,” Billy beams, confusing your dad, seeing two men standing in almost matching suits, the only difference in bow ties. Steve’s red to match your dress and Billy’s is a hot pink.

“Hello, Billy,” your dad greets, turning to your date and saying, “You must be Steve.”

“Billy! Let’s go!” Max calls out and Billy stifles his anger.

“Have a goodnight, Harrington,” he spits before walking back to his Camaro.

Steve extends his hand to your dad, “Nice to meet you.”

Your dad invites Steve inside, who then excuses himself in the bathroom before you walk out into the kitchen.

“Your boyfriend intimated your date,” your dad lets you know, looking amused.

“Oh, God,” you sigh, grimacing at the thought but thankfully you don’t have time to stew on it as Steve’s exiting the bathroom.

“You look amazing,” he says, out of breath as if he doesn’t see your dad standing next to you.

“So do you,” you tell him, smiling wide. Steve does look good, he usually looks pretty prim and proper but something about him in a tuxedo has you thinking about him in ways you never have.

“I’m right here,” your dad speaks up, chuckling as he does so.

Steve’s eyes widen, “Yeah! Oh, I’m sorry! It’s… sorry, I,” he grabs the corsage he’d left on the counter and presents it to you. You extend your wrist towards him with a flutter of your eyelashes, watching as he adorns the gorgeous rose.

“It’s pretty,” you note, a satisfied smile plastered on your face.

“Just like you,” Steve points out.

Your dad extends his hand to Steve, your date taking it in a firm handshake, “Take care of her.”

Steve nods, then moves towards the door. Your dad hugs you, whispering “Now that’s how a man should treat you.” before pulling away.

“Thank you,” you look into his eyes, you think he’s right but that Billy would… if he could.

The restaurant Steve takes you to is the nicest place you’ve been. It isn’t a diner at the edge of town. There’s many other kids from school here. You don’t see Billy and his date, thankfully. He never told you who he was going with but you weren’t sure if you’d hoped it was someone he hasn’t slept with or some poor sap he’d already fooled around with. You scold yourself for thinking about him in this moment. Right now was about you and your date. You were determined to have a good time. You order a glass of wine and Steve widens his eyes, perhaps impressed by your boldness. You supply your fake ID to the waiter and it’s accepted so he in turn offers Steve a glass. He accepts and you’re pleased to impress the man across from you.

“You’re something else,” Steve smiles, leaning across the table to take his hand in yours.

“I’ve heard that before,” you quip with a cocky smirk.

The food is good and the company even better. Steve is funny and charming, it would’ve been so easy for him to get in your pants if you weren’t spoken for. He’s handsome as hell too but equipped with a boyish charm that works so well. And God, you think, it would be easy to fall into something steady with him. Due to the three glasses of wine, you wonder what Steve’s like between the sheets. You imagine a slew of praises and what kind of noises he’d make with his dick in your mouth. Never in the past three years would you imagine you’d be here with the King of Hawkins High. The alcohol mixed with the the attention has you pressing Steve against his car in the parking lot, kissing him intensely and adoring the way it takes him by surprise.

“Wines the secret ingredient I needed, eh?” He mumbles when you pull away.

“You look good in a suit,” you shrug before trailing to the other side of his BMW. “Let’s go dance the night way, pretty boy.”

“No need to pull my arm,” he quips.

The high school gym looks like a sad car with a new paint job, the streamers doing little to distract you from the fact that you’re at Hawkin’s High. You immediately catch Billy’s eyes, he’s seeing you in the dress he’d bought for the first time. He’d seen it on the rack next to your mirror but he’d longed for the moment he got to see it draping to your curves. You hold Steve’s hand in yours, noticing as heads turn towards the two of you. You thought you looked so good in the dress no one was calling you a freak. But the looks were definitely because Steve brought a freak to Winter Formal and that freak looked hot.

“Jesus Christ,” Tommy mutters to Billy who is also staring at you. He’s about to mirror Tommy’s thirst but catches himself.

“Whatever,” Billy mutters, slinging an arm over Molly’s shoulder.

Cutting Crew’s “(I Just) Died In Your Arms” starts playing and you grab Steve’s hand, pulling him to the punch bowl. When you get your drink, you feel the alcohol burn your throat. Thank God it’s been spiked. This would be a long night without it.

Billy’s watching across the gym, a little taken aback but the jealousy he feels in the pit of his stomach. But it’s your fault, right? He told you to go with Steve but he didn’t tell you to enjoy it. He seethes, watching after you both down a glass of punch before strutting to the dance floor. He hates how romantic this song is, seeing you drape arms around Steve as you sway together. He’d give anything to hear what you two were whispering back and forth. He’d really love to go up and sock Steve right in the face, but that’d be to obvious. No, he’d have to play dirty. Molly’s blabbering in his ear and he regretted the entire game, seeing how carefree and fun you seemed around his arch nemesis. He grabs Molly’s clutch, digging through it for the flask he’d stashed inside, though the whiskey inside isn’t much help.

When Sweet Dreams bubbles out of the speakers, he’s dragging Molly to the dance floor making sure he’s in your eyesight. He turns her around, hands on her hips and he grinds against her bottom with his eyes trained on you. Steve’s blissfully unaware of the competition at hand, gasping in your ear when you mimic Billy and Molly. You swing your hand up to lace through the bottom of Steve’s mullet. You think about kissing Steve but it’s too early. You’d fuck with Billy later, this is what he wanted after all.

After a few songs, you excuse yourself from Steve, explaining you need a cigarette badly. You let him think it’s from arousal but truly, you need a breath of air. It’s also an invitation for Billy that he takes, stalking out after you.

“Having fun?” he sneers as he catches you lighting your smoke.

You guffaw, hearing as the song before bleeds into Don’t Dream It’s Over by Crowded House. “I’m at a school dance watching the man I love grind against some whore,” your voice is venomous.

“I’m having the time of my life too,” Billy’s heart skips when you inadvertently admit you love him but hey, time and place. “It’s not fun watching heart eyes and grabby hands.”

“You told me to go with him, motherfucker,” you seethe, but internally feigning over the jealousy he exudes.

Billy scoffs, taking a deep drag from his own smoke.

“And Molly?” you laugh, “I should’ve guessed. Oh, Billy is just so cute! He’s just so kissable. Fucking gag me with a spoon.”

Billy greets his teeth, “I have something else I’d rather gag you with.”

You laugh harshly, the alcohol really showing itself when you comeback with, “Oh please Billy! I want nothing else than for you to get off in my throat where no one can see! Our little secret.”

“Cut the sarcasm, bitch,” Billy spits, pushing you against the wall.

“The fuck is wrong with you? You have to get drunk to spend the night with Harrington?”

“Had to get drunk to deal with you tonight. Steve’s a breeze to be around,” you quip and Billy’s got his hand on your throat as a reaction.

“You like getting a rise out of me,” he reasons, frowning around the words, “You’re not a filthy slut but you sure like acting like one to get my attention.”

You look him dead in the eye, “Let go of me or I’ll scream.”

Billy gives a laugh full of discredit, pushing you further.

“Oh my god, what are you doing? Billy, stop! You’re hurting me!” You claim and when you open wide to scream his hand is forcing your mouth shut.

“I don’t like the game you’re playing,” he says, eyes wary.

You bite his hand and he pulls away.

“Tell me you love me,” you appeal, eyes trained on his. “Tell me you love me and fucking mean it, Billy.”

He closes his eyes and blows air out of his nose, like he’s dejected. “You’re such a bitch,” he mutters, eyes fluttering open again but you’re serious.

“Tell me,” you shrill, “Tell me or I’m done. I’ll go home with Ste-“

“I love you, okay!” he drops his hand from his hands from your shoulders.

You pull him close, feeling his breath against your lips, “Again.”

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you too, Billy Hargrove,” you say breathlessly before pulling him into a bruising kiss.

You could feel he meant it, especially with the way he kisses you back. You leave in two days for Florida and you really couldn’t leave without the admission. You melt into him and the two of you share a beautiful moment but it’s cut short by a girl neither of you know, storming out in tears. You both retract, as if you weren’t just sharing the most important stage of your relationship.

“You should get back to Steve,” Billy says dejectedly.

“One more time,” you plead.

“I love you,” he indulges, a quick kiss.

“I love you too,” you mutter, pulling back to stumble back into the dance. Everything seems different. You don’t want to go back to Steve, you want to follow Billy to his Camaro and get a motel somewhere far.

Take my breath away you hear through the fogginess of the smoke machines, seeing Steve fiddling with his fingers at a table. This isn’t fair, you think as you collapse into the chair next to him. Steve saw Billy follow you and the flush on your face but he doesn’t tell you.

“You want me to take you home?” he asks and you nod.

“Please…”

[undinegeist]

I fly all the way to the hotel, on the bus, through the cow-riddled fields I can’t see in the dark, until I’m flying through the lobby, already all the way up in his room in my head…until the valet stops me, tells me I need to check the front desk.

It’s not my thing, but sometimes shit gets broken…I always enjoy dealing with that sort of stuff, insist they come to me personally.

“What’s broken this time?” I act the bored chaperone part to get us off, but inside I’m almost always thrilled.

“Nothing.” He looks spooked. “He just left the key. Said he needs you in his room.”

“Is the pool open?”

“The pool?” His eyes widen; his accent slips, revealing he’s a little American in little England.

“Yeah. Is it?”

“It’s…it’s very cold.”

“Isn’t it heated?”

“We…we could heat it.”

“Cool…please, will you?”

“Y-yes.”

“Thank you.” I give my sweetest smile, all poison viper.

- xx -

“Hey.”

“Hey.” He hugs me, dressed less like a rockstar in something like yoga pants, knit sweater. “What took so long?”

“Nothing.”

“Hmmm. What about the pool?”

“They should be heating it up as we speak. Why the change in scenery?”

“Come check out the balcony, it’s sick. What did you have to do to get it done?”

“Sweet talking.”

He scoffs. “What did you really have to do?”

“Drop my knickers.”

He laughs. “Really.”

“Just had to say I wanted it…didn’t even have to say it was for you.”

“That hurts.”

“I know…couldn’t argue with him though, I like being boss.”

“You are always boss.”

“In all but name, not that I mind.”

He throws open the door, and wow: it is sick.

The view is all countryside, which means except for a few pinpricks of light in our vicinity, there’s nothing for miles and miles…and then there’s the tub, tucked in one corner, filling with water, about halfway.

“What took you so long?” I’m only teasing him as I test the water…it’s warm.

He doesn’t answer, so I turn to face him, to find that he’s flushed, unusually.

“I had to make a call.”

“Bugging Elias again?”

“Almost. Although…we can talk about that later.”

“Cool…are we inviting anybody up?”

“No?”

“Are you asking?”

“I thought it could be just us…I really don’t wanna deal with anyone else right now. Oh, and, uh…I had to give over both our keys so we could have this room free of charge. Do you hate me yet?”

“I could never hate you…especially not for this.”

“I was worried for about two seconds. What’s up with the tour schedule?”

“They set tonight’s show to two days from now, and I called down to the label so they can fix the dates on the rest of the tour.”

“Cool. Tell me what they change it to when it comes through?”

“Always. Now, who’s going first?”

“Ladies?”

“Fuck you.”

He laughs, takes off his shirt, jumps right in…getting covered in goosebumps where he’s out of the water.

I take pity, slipping out of my shorts and going in just my shirt, reaching to hug him.

“How are you always so warm?” He wraps himself around me the rest of the way, and I don’t make him let go, though it feels strange.

“The heat’s in my blood?”

“I was born someplace warm too, and I haven’t got that.”

“Luck of the draw, baby. Maybe yours was a cold year.”

“Is that how you think it goes?”

“Could be…or maybe it’s just a matter of choice.”

“Hmm. What’s that thing around your neck?”

“Secrets.”

“Secrets come in silver now?”

“Haven’t they always?”

“Yeah…”

It’s actually the ring, though now isn’t the time the way I thought it would be…I look up, up at the sky, and then we’re quiet, until my phone rings in my shorts.

“Shit…”

“Could be the front desk.”

“Wanna bet on who broke what?”

“Nah…you always win. Taking me for all I’m worth.”

“I don’t need a bet to do that.”

“My point exactly.”

- xx -

She rolls her eyes and slips halfway off the tub, bending to reach her shorts…I’m sure she’s about to fall over, so I reach to hold her waist…her underwear’s black, watersheer…how the fuck am I gonna tell her?

“Hi?” She’s already sliding back in next to me, careless as fuck, always.

“Oh, cool. Thanks. Take the…yeah. Oh, yeah…that’d be great. There’s no need to…yeah, slide it in. Thank you.”

“Slide it in?” I cock an eyebrow.

“Dirty fucker.” But she’s distracted. “They’re bringing the keys to the pool…wasn’t sure they’d actually do it.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think they heat it usually, and it’s up on the roof, maybe uncovered? They probably had to wake millions just to get it ready.”

“Or three people.”

“I’d hope for none.”

“You’re too nice.”

“You’re not too bad yourself.”

“Underneath everything else.”

“Yeah…”

“So…do you wanna go up now?”

“Yeah, might as well. Need to put on something else…don’t want to get a call about wet streaks in the hall.”

“I’d take it for you.”

But she’s gone, beelining for the closet, where I left her backpack…I stare at her as long as I can before making my way out of the water, closing the tub so we don’t have to start again, get undressed.

- xx -

She throws open the glass door, stripping immediately, jumping in before I can even get all the way out of my clothes.

“Is it cold?”

“No…stop being a pussy.”

“Fuck you.”

“Come over here and do it yourself.”

I give her what she wants, jumping into the water…it is warm, thank fuck.

She swims closer to me, reaches a hand out to play with my hair, laughing at the way it looks…I do the same to hers.

“Is it time for a cut?”

“Maybe…it’s getting a little long.” She slips her fingers around the edges, brushing my neck.

“What should I do next?”

“You know I’ll always say grow it long…but you should ask people again, it makes them feel like they’re part of the show.”

“I should grow it, just for you.”

Her eyes get distant, and that scares me so much, I start to slowly lose it, though I try not to show it.

“You’ll look great no matter what you do, J.”

“Maybe we should match.”

She laughs. “Last time I grew my hair long, I almost died.”

“Why?”

“It hurt…but the worst of it was that it became unbrushable.”

“I’d brush it if you let me…”

Her eyes are still drifting, distant, colder than the night air…until she stops, turning to look at me, swimming closer.

She stops inches away, and then wraps her arms around my shoulders, even as I get mine around her waist…

“I got you something…it’s…fuck, it’s so cheesy, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“I’ve just said one of the cheesiest things of my life…that’s just us.”

She nods, slipping her fingers away; I hold her against me halfway, as she reaches behind her to unclasp the necklace she hadn’t been wearing earlier, taking it in her hand, before slipping something out of it.

“I know you’ve got tons of metal, so I wanted to get something different…the colors are boring, but still…”

She slips it into my hand, and I turn it over, accidentally pulling her closer, her fingers going across my back, along my neck…it’s a ring, black pink woven together, unlike anything I have.

“It’s…it’s great. Where…where did you get it?”

“Some country mall…I wove it myself. I used to have one of these a while back and because I was a hopeless useless romantic even when I didn’t want to be…I thought if I ever found someone I really liked, I’d make them one…and it couldn’t be metal, because that hurts, and it’s bad enough that you’re…that we’re doing whatever this is.”

“This isn’t bad.”

“Right now…but it has been. And I know I’m fucked, that I’m not easy.”

“I’m not, either. I don’t mind. This…no one’s ever given me anything like this…thank you, Y/N/N. I love it.”

It feels like barely a second, until we’re kissing, her breath mixing with mine, the two of us tangling together in the water…we stop, for barely a second, just long enough for her to slip the ring on my finger, and then I’m lying on my back on the pool steps, and she’s making her way over my chest, up and down until she’s down, just enough…I don’t know how, but she’s always ready, reaching into her shorts for a condom, sliding her tongue hard enough that I feel dizzy, lost…we don’t even talk, I couldn’t anyway; I only have to slip my fingers over her arm for her to slide up, slide in, legs around my waist, hair everywhere…I slip my fingers around her hips, sliding her underwear all the way down, slipping in slowly so I don’t hurt her…she pushes down, though, the rest of the way, and then we’re pressed chest to chest, and I’m kissing her.

“I love you so fucking much.”

She doesn’t answer, doesn’t need to…she bites my shoulder, and I come…finish her off, until we’re both on our backs on the steps, and I’m all the way under her, the only way to chase away the cold.

[calypso-finale]

Hundred Nine. Part 3

It is really fuck Taylan, if he thinks I was going to have him in a picture with my family, oh he was wrong and he is mad at me, but he can be “it’s nice that your mother can be less racist for the day” Oakley sniggered “please, she is full of shit at times. I don’t even think she was racist; she just didn’t like you and I feel her. Because I feel the same way” he is a liar “ok, says the man following me” he shook his head “the guy is fuming you know, that you didn’t let him in the picture” I shrugged “I do not care, he isn’t family yet. And also I don’t think he will make it down the aisle at this rate, like why does he hate me so much. I ain’t do anything to him” I am so confused “because of all the shit Tianna has told him about you, he thinks shit of you for it. Some guys are just weird like that, don’t worry about it though. You really outdone yourself with this party. It’s amazing” I cooed out “thank you, but I am glad the kids are gone because the way I am ready to put Aziel to sleep, he is tired though Look at him fighting sleep “he is sat on Rachael lap and is fighting this sleep” Oakley laughed “let me go and get him, I don’t think I spoke to your mother and father either so yeah, be good” I pointed, making my way over to his family. His family is just tiny but then the family when we went Ireland is huge, they are all there, so they do have a big family but they in Ireland “hey” I said sitting down “amazing party and home” I smiled “thank you, I have been getting nothing but compliments for my house, I think at first when Oakley and I saw it at that time he didn’t want it but I think he has warmed to the idea now, it’s amazing. But thank you” I keep getting many compliments from it “my bro stay here?” Juke asked smiling “he comes here yeah, to like see Aziel. We co-parent the right way for his sake and a lot of his bad behaviour has tamed, he has calmed down and I think it was him seeing a lot, but he is loving life now” Juke is smiling at me “that is good, we have seen a positive side to Aziel too haven’t we Neil” Rachael said to him “yes, he is very positive. When Oakley would drop him off he would be always be on the I am going to run up and down this house and make so much mess without a care, but he comes, and he is being nice to the cat. He enjoyed gardening too didn’t he” his white side of the family is funny, they are so different, Neil isn’t white but he is deep down “gardening, and he doesn’t kill the plants instead?” Rachael laughed “no, I told him he has to be gentle, and he is, so I think it’s a good positive feel towards the change in you and Oakley” I am glad the rest are seeing it too.

Aziel is so tired, like this boy is fighting sleep but he keeps falling everywhere “come here” I said standing him up and pulling his pants up “I don’t want you to pee in bed so you needed to do that” he whined out with his eyes closed “I know, just one more thing, wash hands” flushing the toilet and dragging him a long, I wasn’t about to let him sleep without going to the toilet “he’s ready to sleep now” looking in the mirror “he is dad, but he is ready to knock out asleep, there you go. Good boy” it's been me dragging him everywhere to do things “now dry your hands” my dad laughed “papa” Aziel said “come, let me carry you. Breaking my daughter back” my dad made his way over and picked up Aziel “he has too much fun” walking behind my dad “he did but he didn’t really have a nap mind you, I woke him up straight away when he fell asleep but he was ok at first but now, he can’t even hang” just want him to sleep so then I am child free “I love you so much kid” my dad put him into the bed “like being a grandparent is a whole different love, I miss him when he is not around too. I think we don’t get to have him much and now he is what, in school” he tucked him in “I know dad, I feel the same way. Thank you” I didn’t even know my dad was here “it’s cool, goodnight big A” he is asleep now “that was the easiest to ever put him to sleep” my dad hugged me “does he play up usually?” pulling a face “erm, sometimes. He likes to try and talk me out of not putting him to sleep, which reminds me of you, you like to talk people out of things” my dad laughed out.

Now this is the part I like the most, the adult party because these kids be driving me crazy “I hope Mr Breezy about to get on the mic” Halle said as she made her way over to my dad and me “are you paying me? I cost you know, these vocals ain’t free” why is Halle giving my dad flirty eyes “I am trying to seduce you into doing it now, nigga I am broke you can’t be asking poor me for money” my dad chuckled “see how drunk I get, I may sing a thing or two” looking at my dad “you don’t have too, ignore this one” my dad shook his head walking off “how are you anyways? How is the baby, how is the new man?” Halle and I haven’t spoken for a while “baby is well, I hope it’s a she and I am ok. Wyge and I are looking for a home together so yeah, things are good. I am happy” she seems happy “I am upset with how this all came about, I promise you. I do care for Colin, he deserved better but it just fizzled out. What me and him had was complacent, it wasn’t like he changed to court me, it turned bland and then I did want a baby. I am happy Rylee, what can I say” nodding my head “well there isn’t anything you can say, you’re happy. I am not even mad at that, I never was but you came at it wrong, you came at Oakley and me for nothing, that was all that annoyed me” which she was in the wrong for “I accept that, I felt I was backed up in the corner. I am sorry for that, but you know I wouldn’t have come at you both like that, just I felt trapped, and I wasn’t ready to say and stop staring at my fucking face, my nose has got bigger” I laughed out “bitch I been peeping your eyes, you whore. Like my nose is bad” we both laughed “sorry, I am stood here like her nose has changed. Oh you got pregnancy nose, I felt disgusting through pregnancy, like no. Never again” I hate the thought of ever having another “well bitch you can’t leave Aziel with no siblings now; we need another for my child. Another Rylee” I gagged “no fucking way” I am dead against pregnancy, and I will campaign for that, worst time, Aziel will be fine.

This is where the games begin, Oakley family went besides Juke, he stayed behind but they went so this is just really family and close family friends “this is where the drama begins” I drank my mocktail “mhmm, who you think?” Mika asked “clearly Ti and standing by Taylan like a bad smell, she doesn’t trust him, and I wouldn’t either, he is a mess. He is trying to impress my dad but is doing a terrible job at it” Lillian kissed her teeth “that nigga got a nerve though, Tianna can do better than him. Come on” I got up “I never got to speak to Reuben” it just hit me; I said I would, but I am glad he is still here. Making my way over to him and Imani. Imani is either playing in our faces but the way she gets all shy with us sisters for nothing “room for another one” I said sitting down “well, you just sat” squinting my eyes at Imani “you damn right I did, sorry I just been ever so busy with the party and then Aziel but I’m here now, so how are you?” I asked him “erm, a little overwhelmed. It’s a lot of characters here, I’m just looking here and there. It’s like big people here so I feel overwhelmed with it all, but I’m ok thanks” I bet he feels “I can imagine, I mean you came so it means something with Imani right” he chuckled, he is cute. He looked at Imani and he laughed, looking at my house “Imani, can you do me a favour, Aziel bedroom light has come on and I hope nobody has woke him” Imani scoffed “please” I smiled “look I have been busy all day, please” Imani sighed out “fine” she got up, which then gives me the chance to speak to Rueben “have you felt welcome though? I know it’s overwhelming, but I hope so” he looks a little nervous, I don’t blame him though “yeah, everyone has been nice. I think your dad is a little reluctant, and a lot of my favourite UK rappers are here, like Dave. It’s crazy, but thank you for inviting me, I appreciate it” I cooed out “it’s fine, I just want the guy that is potentially seeking my sister to know that he is welcome here, that we aren’t bad. Is there something between you both?” I asked, let me push it a little “you coming with the questions, erm yeah. I like Imani a lot, I think she is like me in many ways. I am a shy guy; I am not pushy. I am very patient, and I want us to take it slow” that makes me so happy “Imani is very much the loved one so be careful with how you are, don’t break her heart too” I pointed “oh no, I wouldn’t” he laughed “Rylee, He is awake” looking at Imani “oh my god” I said seeing Aziel awake holding his blankie close to himself “what’s wrong?” I asked “Imani, can you do me another favour, get his slides please” she groaned out “you don’t ask for much” Aziel hugged me “what happened? Who woke you” I know someone did “Raihan” I knew it; I knew them boys would have “it’s ok, you can sit with me” rubbing his back “did you want to be a mother early?” Rueben asked “oh” I laughed “this was a surprise, I can’t lie” he let out an oh “but I’m happy, the little prize at the end. I mean it was a big surprise, but yeah” Aziel lifted his head “daddy here” he pointed “he is, his friends are here now” he will want to go to him “Dave” I laughed out “you said that so confidently, you like Dave” he is staring at them so hard “Daddy!” He shouted, Oakley ain’t hearing shit he assumes he is asleep.

I have just realised that Tianna isn’t here, where the hell has she gone “hi” Aziel made his way over to the boys “my guy!” Dave said dapping him “I missed your birthday, but I got you something” taking Aziel blankie him because the boys around are videoing him and he has his night clothes on just roaming around now, Dave crouched down “my guy, I am going to give you some Ps because I ain’t got no gift for you” he got money out “don’t do that, just buy him something tomorrow when you take him out” I said “you want to go out with me? Get you some toys?” Aziel nodded his head “go out, out” the boys laughed “yeah I got you, sorry I’m late. I had something on” Dave said to me “oh it’s ok” I smiled “I think Aziel sensed it, that is why he is awake now” Oakley picked him up “so can I actually take him to get something?” looking at Oakley “mhmm depending, how about Juke. You free, go with Dave. Let him get Aziel something” these men “I am busy” I scoffed “you know what, I will just go with you. But you need to pick us up” Dave laughed “alright, you hear that my G. We going to get you some gear, I mean stuff not that gear” Aziel is too spoilt “what are you even doing?” Oakley acting busy “meeting, I am going on tour, you know that” he got a point “ok” Oakley pointed, looking over at what he is pointing at, my parents have been missing really “breezy in the building!” the boys started shouting “the legend himself right here” my dad looked pissed off but then he soon switched “the boys came out, what is Aziel doing here?” let me go to my mom, she will have the gossip on what happened.

I am waiting on my mom to come back, she said she would. The boys have got the mic on now and are singing or rapping, I don’t know half of them, they seem to be UK artists. I think they are because the way my friends are going off. I know they going to make my dad sing soon, they always do. Momo is just judging them all, they are loud for this song “sorry, just sorting out Raihan. Oh they are having a party here, look at my grandson in the middle of the night in his night clothes” smiling a little as I turned to my mom “why did dad come back all mad?” my mom rolled her eyes “because Ti asked who gave Taylan weed, well Chris and Herb of course, so Tianna got mad. So I said move away from the party, it’s not right, so we went somewhere private. Ti said you know he can’t take it, then Taylan said I can, you think I am a bitch and Chris said you shouting at my daughter and then I am like Chris stop it. You shouldn’t have gave it him, but like it happened. Taylan said to Chris you never like me anyways, so fuck you. I know, it made it all worse. Tianna trying to keep peace move him away, and I had to plead and plead with Chris to not do anything. Then he left it because Tianna got upset, but least we kept it away from the party” I groaned out “this is so bad, poor Tianna” my mother is so distracted “Oakley has not stopped staring at you, like hello” looking behind me and clocked his eyes, my mother is right. He just stared me down, he then looked away “that was weird, so Tianna is with him? Is she safe with him” looking at my mom “good question but I just wanted Chris away” I didn’t even know this was happening because I have been so busy.

[planetsano]

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 𖥔 ⭒ ִ ׂ you only call me when you’re high !

synopsis — “Mikey, talk to me just once..” You hiccup. “Please don’t make me beg..” No, no, he wants you to beg. Fuck, he wants to hear you cry for him so bad. Mikey knows you’d look so fucking pretty for him with fat tears running down the flushed apples of your cheeks and a runny nose.

warnings — bonten mikey, toxic behaviors and relationships, (one sided) phone sex, sadism, dacryphilia, (m) masturbation, perversion, mentioned drug use, potential spoilers.

character — sano “mikey” manjiro.

Thinking about how Bonten! Mikey calls you every now and again to make sure you’re still breathing. You’re that piece of his former self that he just can’t seem to let go and he’s certain he hates you for it. Your pretty face and sweet voice plague his mind at the tiniest things that remind him of you, like seeing your favorite color or how you used to get so excited over trivial shit. He remembers how happy you would get seeing a family of ducks at the pond by the park he would often take you to so he could spend some time with you. Or how you always scolded him for being “too harsh.” Mikey often wonders how you would feel about him now if you knew how he was today— would you be scared of him? disgusted? disappointed? He wonders, especially when he calls you at 3:24 AM with who knows what in his system provided by his right hand, Sanzu.

Thinking about how he sits on the edge of his bed looking out the full wall made of glass in his dark suite. The city outside is the only light source being provided as Shibuya’s bustling nightlife is on full display as he looks onward. It was a spectacular view with skyscrapers meeting the skyline in the distance and glowing lights that ranged from a warm yellow to a cool toned white with a few specs of reds and other bright colors from the restaurants, storefronts and billboards that decorated the city. It was eerily quiet in the room compared to the outside, anyone could hear a pin drop. A blaring silence as he sat still in his dark aura.

Mikey sat with his elbows resting on his knees, one of his hands falling limp in front of him while his other hand held his phone up to his ear. He stared blankly at his slender hand, eyeing the bruising of his knuckles caused from a punch he landed to someone earlier that day. Mikey broke his nose but he almost wants to scoff at the red, purple and bluish discoloration but he can’t find the energy to do so. It is annoying though, he’s going to have to look at his hand for the next few days and be reminded of the scumbag who didn't even deserve to be glanced at let alone touched by him.

Thinking about how the ringing of the line would be awfully loud in his ear in comparison to the dead silence in his condo. An unfamiliar feeling of anxiety was being invoked in him when the fourth ring sounds and you still haven’t picked up yet. It’s usually an immediate answer when he calls. He wonders if you’re finished with him this time. Would it hurt? Mikey likes to believe he wouldn’t. He’s.. completely numb, why would you cutting ties with him hurt? It’s what he wanted in the first place when he disappeared years ago..

And yet, if that was truly the case then why does he even make the attempt to reach out to you? Sure, it’s on his own time. You wouldn’t hear from him for months and months on end and when you would attempt to reach out to him you got nothing in return but a call log filled with red. There’s still a want to hear your voice, why is that? Mikey knows the answer but before his thoughts could run any farther he was met with your voice.

“Mikey,” God, your voice is as sweet as ever and he fucking hates it. “How was your day? I miss you— well, I always miss you..” He can hear the hurt in your voice as it trailed off nearing the end of your sentence and as fucked as it is— it makes his cock twitch to life underneath his black yoga pants. He’s not sure.. why, but he doesn’t really care to find out.

Maybe it’s the sick sadist in him coming forward, shamelessly enjoying how he’s been causing you mental and emotional pain over so many. Or maybe it’s the fact he’s being yearned for in a way he hasn’t known in years. Sex is so easily accessible, Mikey had hundreds of women at his disposal but you.. you miss him. Miss him. It was amazing, really. Mikey knew he was a piece of shit, you didn’t didn’t know the extent to which he was, but the fact that you say things like that after he broke your heart and abandoned you is.. bizarre to Mikey.

Thinking about how it’s most likely a combination of both possibilities along with how.. pathetic and naïve you are clinging onto and accepting any kind of contact and attention from him because you’re still in love with him. Unconditional love was a beautiful thing in concept, but no one talks about how toxic it can become. To Mikey, the thought was intoxicating. He could quite literally do whatever he wanted to you and you would still come back to him. You’d still love him all the same as you did years ago when you both were younger.

You’re just a kicked puppy who keeps going back to the foot— not knowing any better because you crave love and care from the owner. It gave Mikey a sick sense of power over you that he couldn’t find anywhere else. You make him feel like he’s alive again. You’re a drug all on your own it seems.

“I saw something that reminded me of you today,” He hears you shift on the other line, the sheets that rustled slightly underneath you sounded through his receiver. “It was a necklace and it had your birthstone in the center. It was really pretty, so I bought it..” Your voice trails off again into a silence as your brain works to think about something else to say to fill the silence. Mikey can’t see you but he can hear the soft zipping of you moving the twinkling peridot stone along the thin chain around your neck.

Thinking about how this version of Mikey is a bit of a twisted pervert so he leans back onto the cool sheets of his king sized bed and pulls out his already half hardened cock from its confinements. He silently spits into his hand to get himself slick enough for his hand to glide up and down his shaft with ease as his mind wanders off to your appearance as you make mindless conversation on the other line. He knows what you look like today, you’ve sent him pictures before over text. You’re still as beautiful as he remembers, only in a more mature way. Your hair was longer, body curvier and fuller and the baby fat from your face was lost and replaced with a more refined beauty. People would describe you as gorgeous or beautiful rather than cute or adorable today.

“Oh! I got promoted too! Isn’t that cool, M?” He’s not listening but he hears you. Your voice is only furthering his arousal, he doesn’t necessarily give a fuck about what you’re actually saying to him. “Being a personal assistant isn’t too bad, but sometimes I think about when we used to talk about running our own bakery.” Again, the bitter sweetness in your voice is impossible to miss as you speak.

Mikey remembers— he remembers all the nights you used to spend over in his room and you would ramble about your future with him. You were so happy when he suggested opening you guys’ own little sweet business, you immediately started coming up with names. It was a sweet memory but the things that used to satisfy and make him “happy” are no longer of concern, he views it all as meaningless now. That feeling he felt back then is lost, he looks back and feels nothing.

Thinking about how Mikey’s high makes him feel like he’s sinking deeper into the bed, drowsy and heavily lidded as his senses are heightened and elevated. His hand moves in long and languid motions while he strokes his now fully hardened cock himself to your unassuming voice as you continue to ramble.. His hand skill fully twists around his shaft as his hand moves upward, giving his cock head more stimulation. He coats his fingertips in more of his warm lubricant before wrapping his hand around the base of his cock again to give himself a firm squeeze.

Thinking about how the silence always gets to you on the other line but you’ve conditioned yourself to be grateful that he even reaches out to you in the first place. It gives you the tiniest hope of light that maybe he does still love you and maybe you’d be able to see him soon if you just tried hard enough. You believed that you could “fix” him, that it would all be okay if you were in each other’s arms again. That’s why you continue to put yourself through this same cycle but when will it be over? When will it be enough? You wanted your happy ending with Mikey, you were desperate for it, but will it ever even happen? You’re at your end and you know it.

“..You can’t keep doing this to me, you know?” You state, your voice finding a fake confidence that quickly wavers into a whimper. “It’s not good for me..” He’s listening now and his hand is rubbing at his cock at a quicker speed.

“Do you even care?” He listens to you ask, your voice crack and senses that you’re becoming more distraught as the seconds on the call continue to pass. His breathing is picking up, chest heaving as he feels his orgasm build up in the pit of his stomach.

“Mikey, talk to me just once..” You hiccup. “Please don’t make me beg..” No, no, he wants you to beg. Fuck, he wants to hear you cry for him so bad. Mikey knows you’d look so fucking pretty for him with fat tears running down the flushed apples of your cheeks and a runny nose. The thought of it makes his cock jump and another clear fat bead of precum ooze from the tip of his angry cock. He doesn’t bother wiping it, instead choosing to let it run down the underside of his dick. It eventually gets smeared into his shaft by the movement of his hand, mixing into the spit he used to lube himself up moments before.

“Please.. Please talk to me,” Mikey hears your soft weeping through the phone turn into full blown sobs and it drives him insane. It feels good.. It feels so good being the cause of your pain. His heart is racing and he feels alive for the first time in so long. A small but sadistic smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he nears his high.

“Why did you leave me? I thought you loved me, Mikey..” You’re a sniffling and stuttering mess by this point. The worst thing about this whole thing is that you don’t even know the love of your life is on the other line silently getting off to your despair.

Thinking about how his silence to you right now feels like he’s digging through your chest to snatch your heart out with his bare hands then crushing it with all his strength between his fingers. You hate him. You hate him for leaving you and you hate yourself for still being in love with him after all these years of neglect, suffering and silence.

“I hate you!” You choke out through your sobs. “I fucking hate you so much, Manjiro..”

Thinking about how Mikey immediately spills his load at that. His cock spurting six thick white ropes of his seed into the still air. He makes a mess with some strands of his cum landing on his pants, his sweaters and even on his face. The rest trickles down his knuckles and fingers as he continues to milk himself. He's delirious with euphoria right now. His blank face now dusted with a heavy shade of pink with strands of his blond hair sticking to his forehead. He’s lost his cool and aloof exterior. It's now been replaced with glossy, crossed eyes and slightly parted lips that threatened to spill his tongue out.

“Why do you do this to me?” You ask, broken.

Thinking about how the answer to your question is that he still loves you and he misses you, but there's something so satisfying about making you hurt as much as he does on the inside. Maybe you’ll learn to understand why he’s the way he is someday then you can finally be together— suffering in a shared darkness together.

© all content belongs to rekiri 2021. do not modify or repost.

[nameless-shrimp]

LOVESICK || KEISUKE BAJI

↳ PAIRING: Baji Keisuke x GN! Reader

↳ TYPE: one-shot

↳ WORD COUNT: 2.5k

↳ WARNINGS: intense swearing, lots of fluff

↳ SYNOPSIS: Baji has a crush on you, and when he finally goes on a date with you, he experiences some emotions he's not quite used to.

↳ AUTHOR’S NOTES: woooo baji love. this boy deserves the best. soft baji, soft baji, soft baji! anyway, here you go! i had a lot of fun writing this, it made me happy. i hope it does the same for you <3

Nearly tripping on the chair, Baji ducks closer beneath the desk, where Chifuyu cocks an eyebrow. Typically, to see Baji so nervous was an unusual state. And Chifuyu tilts his head to the other side of the classroom, watching your presence string by the large chalkboard, completely lost in the depth of conversation amongst the other classmates. Fighting a snort, he laughs; Baji growls in distress.

“Don’t be so damn loud, fucker,” Baji curses underneath his breath. “They’ll hear me.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” Chifuyu quips with a deadpan look. “You’ve been eyeing them the whole semester and you haven’t said a word.”

“Quit it.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“I’ll kick your ass, fuckface.”

Chifuyu sighs in defeat, fighting an eye roll. “Break’s coming soon. S’the perfect time to ask them out on a date or something,” placing a palm on Baji’s desk; the toothy look that Baji portrayed showed nothing but a young boy losing his confidence—Chifuyu finds it amusing, whereas Baji believes he would uppercut him some time. Maybe later. After lunch—sure. “Tick-tock, the clock’s speeding pretty fast. Soon enough, they’ll be out of the class and you won’t see them ever again and you would’ve missed your shot.”

“Oi,” Baji retorts, furrowing his eyebrows devilishly. “I will punch you.”

“Even if you did, s’not like you made any difference with Y/N, any—”

“Shh!” Baji shushes, standing up quickly before grabbing ahold of the blond’s figure. Chifuyu snickers in pure delight. Bastard. Completely finding amusement in Baji’s nervousness; not even Baji could blame him. Yet he wanted to punch him—again. ‘Later,’ he thinks. “If you keep talking so loud like that then Y/N will he—”

“Hear what?”

Baji freezes; wide eyes enlarge while Chifuyu cackles in a boisterous fit. He slaps his knee religiously before backing away. Hands shaking, Baji gulps quickly, facing you in an instant. His legs start to crumble, though he keeps his ground. Fuck. You weren’t supposed to hear a goddamn word and—shit he was so going to kick Chifuyu’s ass for this and—and—and—you were right there so like, ‘fuck, um?!’ Baji thinks furiously, eyes darting from your school uniform to the flushed look on your face; innocence. All wrapped around the eyes as you cautiously shoot a puzzling glance.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean to, um…” Baji murmurs, throwing a hand behind his neck. He taps his foot impatiently; the desperate need to have the moment end though he also didn’t want it to at the same time. A chance. Even so, for Baji to take you out somewhere—nothing too fancy, nor would it be perfect; his heart swirls in shades of red. An unusual feeling, but he finds it comforting all at once. “I didn’t mean for you to hear me talk about you or mention you in any way! Seriously.”

“Well, you caught my interest,” you say. “So what is it?”

“S’nothing,” Baji waves a hand. “Really. I mean it.”

“Okay,” you blink. “I still wanna know.”

Fucking hell.

“Yakisoba,” Baji murmurs underneath his breath. “I like… yakisoba a lot.”

“That’s cool.”

“Was wondering if you’d want to go and, like,” Baji huffs, turning away. His cheeks flourish pink; Chifuyu smirks from afar; cheeky bastard, playing with chalk mindlessly. He’s enjoying the whole show and Baji nearly stumbles on his words. “Get some with me, ya’know? The two of us. Hanging out. I wanna get to—yeah, like get to know you better.”

You nod slowly, taking in his words. “Yakisoba sounds really delicious,” you say, tapping your chin. Quickly, a nod follows in response. Baji’s eyes widen. “Sure, I’d love to go out with you to get some.”

His feet remain still; frozen—stuck. Baji notices the glimmer across Chifuyu’s eyes even from a few feet away, where he nearly throws chalk towards him. Mimicking confetti, almost. And Baji nods, tightening his lips into an overly excited smile. Bowing, Baji murmurs a soft thank you, only to have you bid a farewell despite you two sitting five desks from each other. The bell rings in an instant, catching the other students to fumble to their seats.

Chifuyu pats his shoulder, throwing a ‘thumbs-up’. Congratulations. At least Baji took the step further. His heartbeat quickens, whether it was an adrenaline high from actually speaking to you and that you agreed to go out with him. He daydreams a wondrous date—to take you to a dazzling cheap restaurant that even his age could afford; perhaps, a swing to go stargazing; in hopes of watching a smile flutter across your lips.

He grips his pencil tighter. Smile not once fading. Reds. Scarlet pinks with shades of white; his heart is filled with such colors that Baji wasn’t really used to. At least, he works with it, for now, attempting to divide numbers in his mind while staring at the chalkboard in front of him.

A warm shade of colors; his stomach churns in excitement. Such a new wave of emotions—Baji lets it happen.

Sunset peeks through the refined glass; the restaurant lost in the blink of silence. Nothing but the sound of pots and pans dancing in the background from the nearby kitchen, and the gentle soothing of your voice causes Baji to fluster into a peek of an immense high. He recalls the moment Mitsuya was messaging him only an hour ago about the date he was about to accomplish with you—the swirls in his heart continue to grow. A new season almost; the edge of winter breezing into the spring with gray clouds. That kind of feeling.

The way your body moves in front of him, exchanging photos of cats that were kept within your phone, Baji remains still. Continuing to blink even from inches away. That glimmer in your eyes—one that he wishes to spark more often.

Tip-tapping your fingers on the table, the trail of your voice dives deep into a childhood story; falling off a bike—or something like that, and Baji laughs. He couldn’t help it; not only could he relate to that numerous times even now, but the presence you bestowed was far from dull, only to sing a song of your laughter—an orchestra unfolding.

“Ah!” You cough into your fist, catching him out of his daze. He blinks quickly. “This is pretty spicy! It caught me off guard.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Baji exclaims, eyes enlarging. “I should’ve told you it had a bit of a kick to it before I recommended it to you. Shit, I—fuck, I’m sorry.”

Waving your hand, coughs rush out from your lips. “No worries,” a smile was thrown his way. “It just surprised me, that’s all.”

“I—I don’t mean to upset you.”

“Hmm?” You hum, brows raised. “You didn’t at all. Don’t worry too much. We’re here to have fun, remember?”

Baji nods, lips slowly trailing into a smile. “Right. M’sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” your head shakes; Baji’s eyebrows knit in a puzzling state. “Like I said, we're here to have a good time. To look at cat pictures and eat some yakisoba together.”

“Just…” he murmurs something inaudible underneath his breath.

You grin. “What was that? Couldn’t hear you.”

“You weren’t supposed to.”

“But I want to know,” you chuckle brightly. Baji’s heart flutters—he swears for a minute it stopped beating once the melody played from your lips. “You got me curious now.”

“You just hear everything, don’t you?” Baji quips playfully, fighting back a forced scoff. Coughing into his hand, he turns to face his cup of water. “Just… nothing.”

Your face deadpans. “Oh, really?”

“Ah, ‘kay,” he gives in, shaking his head. “I just don’t wanna ruin today with you.”

Blinking at him, you chuckle once more before falling into a large fit of laughter. He arches a brow, eyeing you in confusion—all while wondering why you chose to wear a cute outfit today. “Silly,” your eyes close, mind trailing into a breeze. Gentle. Calm—even so, with Baji’s nervous presence around. “I don’t think you can ruin anything about this day. I’m already having a good time.”

He reaches for the napkins while fiddling with his chopsticks. Hands shaking rapidly; Baji clears his throat. “You sure?” He asks, cocking his head side to side—mostly out of a fit of nervousness. “Well, I mean, m’not trying to ruin anything. Seriously.”

“Stop,” you retort. “I refuse to hear anymore of this.”

“But—”

Your hands cover your ears. “No.”

Baji finds himself laughing—letting the swirls of pinks in his heart dance once more.

Dancing along the constellations up above; the stars kiss his skin. Closing his eyes, his mind fogs into a gentle daze—the remembrance of spring weather arises into his mind. Cool; warm, all at once. Footsteps were audible close to him where he felt the grass tickle his ankles. Not minding it one bit, Baji smiles. Satisfaction tickling his face; the look usually suits him, especially in the moment with you.

The tip of his tongue tastes of an orange pop soda from when he last ordered a drink at the restaurant he took you to. He keeps that same smile on his face, allowing his heart to swing along with your shoulders touching his. You stare up, watching the moon, with a finger darting from one star to another. The talk went on about the edge of the universe, from the myths of aliens and different worlds that went beyond the stratosphere, the kind of conversations that dwell deep perfectly at the edge of eleven at night; it was past your time to be at home, but Baji didn’t really seem to care.

(Lovesick. Chifuyu claimed he was that at one point; Baji said it was ‘bullshit’, that there weren't such feelings for the emotional boy to feel.)

“Something about you, Baji Keisuke,” you murmur, voice softening to the wind; the air was warm. Baji raises his eyebrows. “It’s just… funny.”

“What is?” He asks; curiosity killing the cat.

Your hands trail over his knuckles, softly petting his skin. He gulps from the small bit of contact—heart twirling into nothing but swirls once again. Completely stuck in his high from the morning he rose to the moment he shared with you right then.

“Your heart is so soft,” you say, closing your eyes. A yawn follows. Exhaustion reaching the edge of your shoulders. “I think you’re someone special—someone that just wants to protect others.”

There was once a moment when you stepped into the same class as him, and he was immediately taken back by the way your hair nearly got tangled from the white fan. Chifuyu instantly took note of his reaction, quick on his feet to pick at Baji’s emotions right off the bat. (He wasn’t pleased, of course.) Although Baji wasn’t going to remain in denial—not until Mikey had taken note of Baji’s later showings to Toman’s meetings.

He never made a move, not once. A ninja hidden beneath the shadows. He couldn’t quite understand why he remained uncomfortable with his confidence once your presence walked past him every morning—to where Baji consistently pulled through and fought back a punch at every snicker that Mikey threw at him for being lost in a lovesick daze. Lovesick; once again, as Chifuyu mentioned to him once before. At some point, Baji asked Draken if there was such a thing—and the response was silence. Though it was still an answer that spoke the truth.

With how your eyes glowed underneath the large moon that slept in the sky, Baji slowly fell in love with the adrenaline rush. Purple street lights glowing from below the hill both of your bodies rested on; a treasuring memory growing into the back of his mind—one that he wished that he could not forget. And his heart jitters; a quicker pace, with the warm colors capturing him behind bars.

“Y/N…” he breathes, looking down at your figure.

“Ah, yes?” You open your eyes, fighting the tiredness. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

“No, love, I just—”

“Did you just call me ‘love’?”

“Yeah,” he reacts quickly in defense, almost choking on his breath. “Do you not like it?”

“No, no…” you smile, shaking your head. Face planting into his shoulder; cheeks flustering into a warm heat. “I like it. Yeah. Keep calling me that.”

“I want to,” Baji grins; a toothy one—tongue hidden beneath the teeth, kind of grin. And his lips press down to your forehead. Love… sick. Right. “It’s just that I think…”

You sigh deeply. “You think what?”

“I think I—” Baji cuts himself off, batting his eyes before shaking his head. “Nothing.”

“You stop yourself too much,” a laugh was heard. “Tell me.”

“S’best if I wait on it.”

“Suit yourself.”

Dark night slick above the both of you. Baji’s hands roam along your shoulders, pulling you close to his chest. Your head softly falls to his lap; a hum of a popular pop song was audible to his ears. The bits of autumn breeze cools his forehead down, nearly on the brink of sweat. Typically, Baji wasn’t one to give in so easily to touch—or at least, he thought. Tips of your fingers rub his knuckles once again and he smiles heavenly to the warmth—stardust glimmers across your eyes; he blinks for a harsh second to snap into the shape of the current moment—in touch with reality, and he realizes it then.

Lovesick. Baji laughs loudly. To fall so hard for someone that he may not have. Perhaps that was meant to be true even after so long—a time where something can change. With you. Together; hand-in-hand. His protection. Baji imagines it for a moment, deep in the basket of silence.

His world stops. You glance up at him, fluttering your eyes to force a wide awake state. A dance of your fingers allows him to part his lips; you trail along his mouth before he starts to chuckle. How ticklish for Baji to act. And your laugh sings once more—a harmony; meant for only him to hear. “Quit looking at me like that,” you playfully cry out.

He tilts his head; unamused, slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You’re looking at me like you’re in love.”

Heart swirls; colors of Valentine’s day roses—the feeling of silver mountains and pink flowers in spring. Baji continues to let these emotions rise, again. And he laughs loudly, closing his eyes in a swift shut—finding peace. Acceptance; to be in a loving daze that he chooses to not escape. Trapped beneath the cracks of his violent side lies a young boy experiencing the emotions that he didn’t expect to witness, but did so anyway.

He keeps his hand on yours, staring back down at you. Face fading into a slow unconscious state, drifting away into a sweet sleep. Knowing you were still half-awake, Baji continues to laugh.

Pretty pink lips; heart diving into a sea of lovestruck highs.

“Maybe I am.”

[bonbonthedragon]

Bakugou x reader

Summary: Bakugou thought he was being cool, he wasn’t

Warnings: Bakugou being cool duh

Note: whoa. Tis been a while…hi. Also this just kinda happened and haven’t read over it so…yeah okay have a good night

Bakugou knew he was beautiful. Hell his mother was a model and designer and he was the female version of her, at least that’s what everybody said. And though his ego had leveled out through the years, Bakugou knew his worth. So in all honestly, he didn’t blame you for staring at him so much. It had been almost 30 minutes since he had sat down for his break, choosing a park bench he hoped no one would bother him at so he could eat his lunch in peace. When you sat some feet away from him he was going to move but you just pulled out a booklet and began writing, so he didn’t bother to think you’d interrupt his sweet time to himself.

Your eyes continued to flicker every minute to him, knowing this from the corner of his eye and tried not to smirk. You weren’t so bad yourself, stunning curves in all the right places, hair down for the cool breeze and sporting some loose jeans and a tee. He would have mistaken you a student if he hadn’t realized your pallet of makeup and obvious attire that just screamed you had the money to buy the shit you sported. Oh yeah, did he mention you had pulled up to that park in a 2013 Alfa Romeo 4C? Yeah that was hot.

He looked at his phone just to see his break was up, taking in the last of his drink and getting up to throw it away. Though, he wouldn’t leave without having a go on you first, of course. And as he walked up, your eyes didn’t even flicker to meet his until his feet were in obvious view from you eyes that were once glued to the ground, now trailing up to his in a boring sort of look.

“Couldn’t help but look at me could ya, sweetheart?” He snickered, crossing his arms and flicking his head over to your car “like the ride, haven’t seen a Alfa Romeo in a long time. What is it, 2013?”

She glanced at the red vehicle, looking back “2015. They stopped being produced in the 90’s, came back some years ago.”

Bakugou flushed, of course they didn’t even exist in 2013… his brows knitted and he found something to change the subject, stretching a bit until he pointed to your lap “and what’s that?”

You glanced down, humming in acknowledgment and tore the paper from your book “it was a drawing you, I liked the way you sat on the bench. I’ve never seen someone sit so… angrily?” You shrugged, crumbling it and he flinch, just a bit at the thoughtless action. “But anyone who calls me “sweetheart” shouldn’t deserve to have their portrait done at all.” You got up, tossin the paper in the same bin he had tossed his lunch in and turned the other way, immediately lighting up as you saw someone. “Momo!”

Bakugou stilled when he saw but an old classmate of his strut towards you, and before he could catch her attention you grabbedthe other hero’s hand and began to walk the other direction for her, fussing over how long you waited and her apology.

The blond only stood until you turned on the trail, looking back over at the bin cursorily and, against his better judgement, dug in it. He pulled out the crumbled paper, something from a clearly expensive sketch book and un-did it.

“Oh…” he mumbled, breath takin away from it.

Every line had no mistake taking his form, a black and white drawing of a man who sat alone on the bench, grumbly taking bites of his sandwich with his water in his other hand. It was…really well done, she had sat so far away yet taken every detail there was to his bulky costume of a hero suit. He fiddled with the edge of the page until some writing caught his eye and he flipped it over, a number and business name attached.

I like your face, you should let me paint you

- (y/n)

[fuckingthefictional]

Hi! I would like a request about Derek from teen wolf, please. The reader is trying to approach him, taking care of him "because Derek is too busy taking care of the others", BUT IT'S BEING SO HARD because of all of his past. Derek and the reader argue one night because of the overprotective nature of the reader about him, and when she tries to leave the loft, completely upset with Derek, he tries to fix things between them. Could you do this with a lot of angst and, then, tons of fluff? Thanks!

Ignored

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader

Warnings: Angst bbyyyy, and some fluffy goodness at the end, not checked over (so probably a crap ton of spelling errors)

A/N: hello hope you enjoy, sorry it took forever! I’m so busy with work, college and personal issues that writing has been put on the back-burner.

When the name Derek Hale was mentioned- one immediately thought of the broody, salty, sarcastic young man who lived by himself after the tragic Hale house fire.

Nobody would ever associate the name Derek Hale and caring. It just wasn’t in his nature. Because under no circumstances could Derek be remotely kind, caring or soft in any way possible.

That’s what people thought of Derek. But not you- or the majority of the pack for that matter.

Yes, you saw where others came from with their ideas and judgement (Derek’s lack of colour in his wardrobe obviously didn’t help either).

But to you when you heard the name Derek Hale, you immediately thought of the kind hearted man who would give up anything for the safety of his friends and family (as much as he claimed otherwise).

You knew him differently, you knew him like the back of your hand. You knew that his favourite food was Spagetti Carbonara without the mushrooms, that he didn’t like Coca Cola, that he secretly loved watching trashy tv shows like keeping up with the kardashians, and most importantly that he was running himself ragged.

He had bitten off more than he could chew when it came to helping everyone out. He was the one giving lifts and helping with homework and hosting pack nights, and handling Isaac’s nightmares, all of this happening at the same time as some supposed lizard creature being on the loose.

You had been ignored by Derek Hale for approximately 72 hours. Now this wouldn’t be bad if it weren’t for two things.

1. He wasn’t aware that he was actively ignoring you.

2. The idiot wasn’t your husband of 2 years.

Over 68 hours ago you hadn’t minded, you had even brushed the silence and distance off- knowing that Derek liked to have a little time to himself.

But when it hit the 5 hour mark of the 4th day, frustration and disappointment had begun to set in.

There was one more thing that made the whole situation worse. He was blatantly ignoring you- and only you.

It hurt. You could admit that to yourself easily without any qualms at all. It hurt.

Whether that was to do with the whole ‘mate’ side of things you didn’t know- all that you did know was that Derek Hale was drowning and he wasn’t going to swim until everyone else was okay.

-

Thud, thud, thud, creaak

“Der please sit down”

“I can’t. I gotta figure this shit out before the school finishes for the day.” Derek grunted from his spot in the middle of the room. His head firmly stuck in the thick, dusty book that he had been pouring through for the majority of the afternoon.

“Der please, take a break.” You pleaded with him, begging him to just stop for a second and relax.

“I can’t,” Derek murmured again, before he pivoted in his heel and walked away up the staircase.

His heavy footfalls retreated upstairs, the musty book still clutched in his grasp.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you willed the tears in your eyes to stay put and to not roll down your cheeks in fat drops.

Why couldn’t you be enough for him?

-

The next plea came around 2 hours later, when you brought a bowl of homemade pasta and garlic bread up to Derek. Hoping that just maybe it would strike up a conversation, that maybe he would utter more than two short sentences to you.

“Babe- I made you lunch.” You elbowed your way into the room, balancing the bowl and plate in your hands.

“Just leave it on the desk.” He motioned to an empty slot on the overcrowded surface.

“I just thought that maybe we could have lunch together, have some time with each-other.”

“Y/N/N’s I would- but I have so much to do. Stiles and Scott are already on my ass about the damn lizard freak in town.”

“Der, you need to take a break.” You placed your hands on his shoulders. Instead of feeling them relax you could feel his muscles tense up.

Shrugging your hands off, he pushed the fresh plate of food away, “I can’t.” He spoke simply.

“But-“ you tried to object in protest, trying to plead with the broad shouldered man in front of you- hoping that maybe, just maybe he would come to his senses.

He did not.

“I said no Y/N.” Derek ground out, “I’m busy. Please for the love of God stop bothering me.”

The words stung you, causing you to stumble back in shock. Derek had a hard exterior, everybody knew that. But he had never spoken like that to you.

He had promised on your wedding day that he would always be kind, that he would be your biggest supporter and largest source of love.

But all those words felt like lies now. You felt alone, like an empty shell of yourself. Why couldn’t you just be enough?

-

Hours flew by, the watch on Derek’s wrist occasionally beeping to signify the new hour. If he were being honest- he had lost track of what the time was.

The only signifier was that Stiles, Scott and the others were in his presence- meaning it was at least 4pm

And judging by the sky outside of his office window, it was late evening, as the sky itself had melted from cool blues into a fantastic array of oranges and purples.

But besides the low chatters and bickering coming from Isaac and Stiles, the house felt almost too quiet.

There was no tv hum coming from the living room, no occasional flush or running of water from the restroom, no sizzle from food coming on the oventop, no sound of a page in a book turning. Nothing. Just silence.

“Hey Derek,” He looked up to see Scott staring at him, “Where’s Y/N?”

“Well-“

“Yeah, I haven’t seen her yet today.” Isaac chimed in.

“I’m not actually too sure.”

Derek was met with a sea of blank stares.

“I’m sorry- there’s a kanima out there roaming Beacon Hills, the very same kanima that is killing more people by the day. And you don’t know where your wife is?” Stiles asked incredulously, “Are you kidding me.”

“Well I’ve been so caught up on this research that I haven’t been spending as much time with her.” Derek attempted to defend himself.

“Derek, please tell me that you haven’t been ignoring your wife.”

Everybody had there eyes on him again.

“Well-“

There was an uproar of protests, all of which were yelling at Derek for ignoring and deserting his wife.

“You better find her Derek, before something happens and you regret it for the rest of your life.”

-

You really didn’t know how long you had been out here for. All you knew was that the night was closing in and the chill was setting in your bones.

But you didn’t want to go back to the loft, you honestly didn’t think you could handle seeing Derek after his outburst earlier.

The cold, damp ground soaked into your body- sucking all the warmth out of your body at a creeping pace.

The spot you sat in, hadn’t changed much since your first date with Derek. It was still isolated and it gave off the best views in Beacon Hills. Nobody knew about it but you and Derek.

Sighing deeply, you looked out over the viewing point- watching the tiny specks of light flicker in the distance. Every single light showed a different life that was being lived, each one with their own struggles. Beacon Hills was something else to say the least.

“I knew I could find you here.” A familiar voice broke your train of thought.

You kept silent, staring straight ahead, willing that your bottom lip wouldn’t start trembling and the flood gate wouldn’t open in your eyes.

“Look I’m sorry.”

You sniffed, still unable to look your husband in the eyes, “Are you though?” You briefly shut your eyes to stop any tears from breaking through, “or are you just saying that to get on my good side.”

You could feel Derek’s presence settle down besides your own. His breath creating little puffs of mist under the dark sky.

“I didn’t realise you were trying to help me, until it was too late and you’d left the apartment” He muttered, “It’s my fault, I should’ve taken your advice, I should’ve listened to you.”

You listened intently, knowing his words were sincere and heartfelt, “Why didn’t you listen to me then Der?” You responded bitterly.

“Because accepting help means showing weakness, and showing weakness is something I haven’t done since before the fire.” Derek’s voice was small now, “Before I met you, accepting help was off the table- I was a lone wolf, with no pack or family. And now I’ve found you and I’m desperate to not lose that again, I can’t lose you to this new threat in town- I can’t be alone again.”

Silence hung heavy in the air as your husband’s words set in. It made sense to you; why he was studying non-stop, why he had barely slept or ate.

It was apparent that while he was trying to protect his loved ones, he was also pushing them away in the process. That needed to change.

“You won’t be alone Der,” You lay your head down on his shoulder, “I promise that much- it’s you and me forever.”

“Through every supernatural event that happens in this town?”

You giggled softly, “Yes, and every single thing in between.”

[happy4562]

Plumber Has an Emergency

Although he was a master locksmith who could have a door open in less than a minute, Pete didn’t know dick about plumbing. All he knew was his toilet was overflowing. Luckily he knew one thing and that was how to turn the water off. Before bed last night he took a piss and when he flushed, the water had rushed right up to the brim. Not wanting to pay an extra fee for overnight assistance, Pete decided he would wait until the morning to call.

Rob made his way out to Pete’s about an hour after Pete called. Rob had been a plumber for years and Pete just chose his name out of the phone book. Rob began his assessment. Meanwhile, Pete had needed his morning shit for quite some time now. It was pressing but not at that dire emergency stage yet.

Rob quickly realized the toilet needed to be snaked out. There was probably some minor blockage that wasn’t allowing the toilet to drain. He grabbed his tools out of his truck and got to work.

An hour later and not much progress had been made. Pete’s shit however had progressed further along. He needed to get on a toilet as soon as possible. As Rob was bent down working on the toilet, a loud wet fart escaped.

“Sorry about that man, I guess the coffee is doing it’s work on my system. It probably doesn’t help that I had a few beers last night”, Rob said.

The fart was rancid and punched Pete right in the face with its stench.

“No worries. Uhmmmm do you think you’ll be much longer? I haven’t been able to use my toilet yet today?”, Pete asked.

“Should be done any minute now”, Rob answered as his stomach loudly gurgled.

Another 30 minutes passed and still no luck. Pete was now pacing his hallway. His morning shit was always his biggest and today was no exception. Rob too hoped the toilet would be fixed soon. He was getting pretty desperate. He never used a client’s restroom but this time he didn’t think he would make it back to his truck, nevermind the McDonald’s down the street.

Rob heard what he had been longing to hear as the toilet quickly drained. He flushed once to make sure the blockage was gone. The water filled once again in the bowl, this time stopping where it was supposed to. The toilet was now operational again.

“Sorry to ask, but can I use this before I go?”, Rob inquired while motioning to the toilet.

“Sure, but I need to go first!”, Pete yelped.

He waited for Rob to leave the room but instead he just said good there with a pained look on his face.

“Uhmmm can you step out for a minute?”, asked Pete.

“No. If I move at all I’m going to shit my pants”, said a flustered Rob who was clenching with all of his might.

Pete didn’t care at this point. He needed to shit NOW. He dropped his boxers to the floor and quickly began going. After 8 loud plops, he pissed strongly against the side of the bowl. Luckily for Rob his ass was clean after 2 passes.

Pete hadn’t even pulled his pants all the way up before Rob dove onto the bowl. Loud diarrhea thundered out of him. He turned bright red. Here he was having a monster shit in front of a client. A stranger at that.

He sighed with relief as his shit splashed. The smell engulfed Pete who said “how about a courtesy flush?”.

Rob flushed his diarrhea away before more filled the bowl. The beers had really messed up his system and the coffee was the catalyst. Pete had washed up at that point and decided to give Rob some privacy. As soon as he shut the door, Rob groaned loudly and completely gave up all inhibitions.

The relief was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He had a few more bursts before finally feeling cleared out. He wiped up 10 or 12 times before flushing, watching to make sure the bowl didn’t clog like it had for Pete the night before. He washed up and joined Pete in his kitchen.

“Sorry about that,” Rob shyly said. He was barley able to look at Pete.

“Shit happens. It’s cool”, Pete said in a reassuring tone.

Rob left and headed to his next job looking fully content as he drove away.

[bubblyhoney]

win for me

warnings: lAnGuAgE, alcohol consumption (both reader and all other characters are of age to drink), marijuana use, Making Out™️, a miniscule Flowers from 1970 reference. PSA: WHEN UR INTOXICATED AND/OR AT A PARTY, TELL UR FRIENDS WHO YOU WILL BE WITH AND WHERE YOU WILL BE AT ALL TIMES. DRINK AND PARTY SAFELY!

tags: sapnap x fem!reader

summary: a collection of moments throughout the beginning of your relationship

words: 5000

A/N: even though this isn’t my most organized or perfect fic this was so incredibly fun to write. and it’s a college!au!! one of my favs. hope you guys like!! let's pretend the pandemic doesn't exist for this one too (please wear ur masks btw)

-

Sophomore Year:

Smells like shit in here is your first thought upon entering the laundromat.

It does, in all honesty. What would you expect a place where college students wash three months of dirty clothes and comforters with vomit to smell like? Urine and just a hint of marijuana, incidentally. The door closes noisily behind you and a guy in a black baseball hat turns his head at the noise. Half of his face is hidden underneath the shadow of his scruff and he says nothing, but you still offer an obligatory polite-stranger smile. The place is pretty deserted, what for it being nearly 4 in the morning. And you’re a rare kind of customer; only a few things to wash and you brought your own detergent.

There’s an empty washer next to an old woman in an acid-trip of a parka, and you sweep past the few other patrons with your mesh bag close. The man in the hat nods at you as you pass, looking up from his phone.

Okay. Dark load in one and delicates in the other, you remind yourself. The quarters get pushed through the slot (not without dropping three and having to scramble to pick them up before they disappear between the machines) and you fill the dispensers with a flowery laundry detergent your roommates hates. Oh, and the clothes go in. Done. You relax into a cracked plastic booth around the corner of the machine, pulling a book of crosswords from your bag.

Somebody yelps halfway through filling out a five letter word (“a series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person's mind during sleep”) and you jump. Baseball Cap rips open the dryer, fumbling around and supplying a pair of gray sweatpants. You can’t help but watch. He digs through both front pockets, pulling out a wad of dollar bills. He sighs, shoves the pants back into the dryer, and starts it with a hard push.

“Gut feeling?” You ask. He looks around for a second and settles his gaze upon you. Nice eyebrows, you think.

“Yeah,” he laughs, slightly nervous. “Yeah. I wore them yesterday and just remembered I put some tip money in my pocket.” Leaning back onto the shelf behind him, he shoves his phone into his pocket and folds his arms tight to his chest.

“I feel you,” you empathize, and set down your pencil. “I washed a parking ticket with my underwear last week.”

He stutters out a laugh, nodding.

“That must’ve sucked,” he adds.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “I wasn’t going to pay it anyways, but would’ve been nice to keep it for memory’s sake.” Rubbing at your knee offhandedly, you just watch him. He’s cute. And easy to make conversation with.

“Hey, um,” he mutters and clears his throat. “Do you by chance know some guy named Karl? Tall, messy brown hair and a horrible laugh?”

You open your mouth, then close it.

“Actually—,” you start but huff out a laugh. “Yeah, he’s uh, he’s dating my roommate. Why’d you ask?”

Reaching a hand to rub at his neck, his face twists into something sheepish.

“I’ve seen you at some parties this semester. I didn’t mean to sound creepy like that— I just—yeah.” His cheeks flush pink and he looks down to the ground.

“No worries,” you say, barely even thinking. “I think I’ve seen you too. You’re in Delta Tau Delta, right?”

“Nah, nah,” he laughs. “Just got some friends in there.”

“Ah.” You nod.

The conversation falls into silence, but not uncomfortable silence. He pulls out his phone again, and you look back to the crossword in front of you. The old woman between you leaves with a humongous load of blankets and a small family leaves with a cart full of bags; now it’s just you two.

When the washer with your delicates ding you nearly jump two feet in the air. Exhaling, you set your work down and open the door.

“Shit,” you curse as two bras fall onto the tile. You reach down to get a hand on a black lace bra and hide it quickly under your elbow. A sneaker squeaks loud in the almost-empty room and you see Baseball Cap’s shoulders.

“Here.” He’s kneeling as he hands you your pink bra and you accept it, biting your lower lip.

“Thanks,” you mumbles, slightly embarrassed, and step back to shove those bras and a couple pairs of your underwear into your bag. He offers you a small smile and backs off to his own machines, humming an off-key version of Unchained Melody to himself. Your other load of laundry gets shoved right on top of your delicates.

It’s when you’re nearly out the door, bell jingling, that you think to look back.

“Hey,” you start, almost stuttering for no reason. “What’s your name?”

He turns, dark eyebrows raised.

“My—uh… My friends call me Sapnap. You can call me that too.” Rosy cheeks once again; you seem to be making him awfully nervous.

“Sapnap.” You try it in your mouth, pursing your lips. “Okay. I’ll see you around Sapnap.”

He nods, affirming your statement.

“See you around Y/N.”

It doesn’t hit you until you’re buckling your seatbelt and starting your car that you realize you didn’t tell him your name.

Perhaps he knew more about you than you thought.

Yeah, you laugh to yourself. Karl’s got a big mouth.

Junior Year:

It takes you a collective twelve minutes to go talk to him.

It’s quiet in the library, students that happen to come here to study or procrastinate few and far between the scattered tables. Your poison today is a 4 page history paper on Normandy that you’d been staring at the instructions for for days. You’d already written a bunch of, frankly, horseshit for the body, but the introduction and conclusion were throwing you for a loop.

The vibes in Ridgeback Hall were also certainly off, today more than any other day; the main help-desk was empty and everybody had to do the tedious task of locating niche textbooks themselves.

Lifting your head from the wood of the table, you squint and focus your vision on the guy in the white tee and denim jacket that had been the focus of your thoughts for minutes. He chews at the end of his pencil, mouth screwed up into a ball, and shoots daggers at the empty notebook in front of him. You’re surprised it hasn’t caught on fire yet just from his gaze.

“Sapnap!” You whisper-shout, stretching your arms across the table as if it would make him any closer. A person with purple hair jumps at your voice but turns back to their laptop. “Sapnap!” you try again, tapping two fingers on the table. His head jerks up, eyebrows furrowed and an angry expression on his face, but softens at the sight of you.

“Y/N,” he counters, equally as loud but with a smile on his face.

“What’re you doing?”

“Calculus.” He sticks his tongue out, making an awfully tortured face. You laugh and wave your fingers at him, gesturing for him to come closer. He just huffs out a sigh, stacks all his papers in one pile, and gets up. The trek over to your table is short but he takes it so slowly you wonder if he always walks like that. Like a varsity basketball player who just got off a horse.

“You’re so slow.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles and settles into a chair across from you. “It’s 2 pm, give me a break. I need a Redbull.”

“Those are bad for you, you know,” you say matter-of-factly and drop your chin onto your hand. He’s even cuter from this angle, you think briefly. He just rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, Miss I’d-like-some-coffee-with-my-sugar-and-cream,” he teases, pointing to your venti iced coffee. It’s about as pale as the color of a band-aid. You just sigh and close your eyes. “You tired?” He flips his pencil in his hand and leans back into the seat, sighing.

“Yeah,” you mumble. “I haven’t slept yet today.”

“Wow, you’re dumb.” He looks scandalized. You just shrug.

“Perhaps. I don’t really know why I did it actually— just for funzies!” You raise an arm but let it drop back down. “I stayed up playing Sims.”

“Feel that. I play Minecraft with my buddies until like 2 am every night too. It’s nice,” he decides and folds his arms across his chest. Your eyes flit over to his strong arms, admiring the way his denim shirt looks around them. Thick.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” He says too loudly and it warrants a ‘shush’ from another student. He reddens, but looks back down to you. “I—why do you ask?” You shrug, eyebrows raised.

“Just wondering. You’re too cute to not have one.”

“Right,” he huffs, but his cheeks stay pink. You two fall into easy silence, his eyes trained on the notebook in front of him and yours closed peacefully. “Are you dating anyone?”

They snap open not-so-peacefully.

“Nope. You wanna submit a boyfriend application?” A smile cracks your lips and he grins back.

“Maybe,” he replies and stares at your mouth. “I have to say—,” He stretches into a yawn. “I think I’m qualified.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your eyebrow quirks. “And why are you so qualified?”

“Well, first of all, I work at Ace Hardware. That’s where cool people work.” He presses one finger into his palm. Then two. “And I have a bunch of free time because said job at Ace Hardware only likes scheduling me in the mornings. Plus, I’m hot.” He shrugs.

You nod faux-seriously, considering his list.

“Those are very good qualities, sir. I’ll have to get back to you on that.” You pause. “Okay, I’ll schedule an interview. How’s 7 pm at the Chili’s on Main? Chili’s is the designated interview place.” You wiggle your eyebrows. He just smiles at you, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That was smooth.”

“Yeah, I know.” You carefully study your nails. “I’m pretty impressive.”

“Clearly,” he mutters and chuckles. “But I do like their salsa. And margaritas. We got a deal?” He holds out a large hand. You take it, squeezing tightly.

“Hell yes.”

When you see the man called Sapnap a week later, you are very obviously in a different state of mind.

Same state, same college town, but very different blood alcohol contents.

“Sappy!” You shout, raising your arms above your head with a stupid grin on your face. He turns, that familiar look of surprise evident in his expression.

“Y/N,” he laughs and approaches your group of friends in the kitchen. It’s Greek Wedding night at Delta Tau Delta, and you assume Sapnap came to support Delta’s “groom” Alex. You’d gotten uncharacteristically drunk, trading air for sangria, and you were now in the incredible stage where everyone was both your friend and your favorite person.

Throwing an arm around his shoulders, you mash your face into his bicep and giggle.

“Missed you so much,” you try to manage out of your mouth, but it comes out slurred and stuttered. “So much.” You’d gone to Chili’s two days before and promised another ‘interview’ in the next few days, but it felt like two months away from your beloved. Beloved friend, that is. Only one date.

“Yeah?” He places a hesitant hand on your back and nudges you into a standing position. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Oh, shhhh,” you mumble and close your eyes. “Only— a lot.” Blinking them back open, you zero your gaze in on a bottle of Ciroc half-empty and looking very tempting on the kitchen island across from where you’re leaned up against the kitchen sink. He catches your gaze and steps in front of you, pleasant face filling your vision. You gasp.

“You are so cute.” Sliding your palms up onto his face, you hold his scruffy cheeks in your hands and smile all dopey at him.

“Is that your brain or the alcohol telling you that?”

“Uh,” you swallow. “Both. And my heart.”

He just shakes his head and his chest moves with a heavy laugh.

“Glad to hear it.”

“Are you having fun?” You ask, all concerned and furrowed eyebrows. You look like you’re genuinely interested and worried about if he’s having a good time or not, and it makes his expression melt.

“I’m having lots of fun,” he passes over his shoulder as he flips on the tap and fills a red solo cup with water. “In fact, I’m gonna have a nice, cold glass of water right now.” He shakes it like an owner offering their dog a treat.

You eye the cup in his hand, having half a thought that this might be some sort of backwards psychology move. The other half wins.

“That sounds so good right now— can I drink some?” Your eyebrows pull together and your bottom lip drops into a pout. It makes him blink for a second. He remembers the little game you’re playing and just hands it over, smug. You gulp it down quickly and crush the empty plastic into your palm with an exaggerated exhale. “Hit the spot,” you sigh, and pat your stomach fondly.

“You hungry?” Sapnap asks you as he steadies you with two hands on your shoulders. Something pops into your head at his words: a set of two McChickens and an Oreo milkshake.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, and mirror him by placing your hands on his shoulders. “Can we go to McDonald’s?”

He just shakes his head, grin wide on his lips, and shrugs. Perfect teeth, you think.

“I haven’t drank anything, so I’m good to drive.” He pulls his keys from his pocket. “I know you’re smashed right now so—do you feel safe with me?” The question falls from his mouth and you truly consider it, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Yeah. I’ll take this just in case,” you say, and take a large dinner fork from the counter next to you. It has some red liquid on it that you brush off onto the fabric of your jeans.

“That’s actually gross.”

“Yeah.” You grip it tighter in your head. “But it’ll do the job if you try any shit. I’ll put this in your eyeball.” Brandishing it, a smile stretches onto your mouth. He just shakes his head and heads for the back door, jerking a hand in your direction to get you to follow him.

The cool night air explodes on your face when you step onto the porch and it makes you blink rapidly. Sapnap is right at your side, offering a forearm as you slowly make your way down the two back porch steps. A tall blonde smoking half of a blunt makes a grunt noise as you two pass and your knight-in-shining armor looks up.

“Gonna go get some food. Want anything?” Sapnap stops on the rocky path to the sidewalk, tilted up to hear the blonde’s response. The other guy shakes his head but nods to you in passing.

“I’ll tell her friends where she went,” says the blonde, and disappears through the sliding glass doors.

Your hand falls from his forearm to his hand and grasps it tightly, swinging back and forth as you stumble to his car. You flash him a grin that he just chuckles at.

“Watch your step,” he warns as you yank on the handle of the passenger door and nearly fall off of the curb.

“I’m fine,” you huff, and scramble to get yourself upright into the seat and buckled. He closes your door and jogs to the driver’s seat, climbing in and starting the engine quicker than your head comprehends.

The small space fills with the sound of Letters to Cleo as he’s maneuvering out of his parking spot and he slaps a hand at the stereo button almost immediately. His cheeks redden as he glances at you once.

“I love Letters to Cleo,” you admit, and switch it back on. Ah, Co-Pilot. A classic. “Be my co-pilot!” You sing, loud and sharp. He shakes his head but huffs out a reluctant laugh.

“My older sister loved them. Bit old for my taste, but—you know. Can’t deny that I love a little bit of 90’s angst.”

“Absolutely,” you nod vigorously and pick at your nail. “Oh!” The fork magically reappears at your side and you grab at it. “For my McChickens.”

“And for me,” he adds.

“Yup. You too.” But you drop it onto the seat and lean forward, fumbling with the volume dial until you feel the lead singer’s voice thumping into your heart. “I love this lady!” You shout and rock your head to the beat.

Shaking his head, his shoulders move in an easy laugh. The drive-thru line is kind of busy for 2 am, he notes, pulling in right behind a navy BMW sedan. But it moves quickly, especially when you’re moving in your seat, scream-singing the lyrics to I Want You To Want Me.

“Yeah,” he says, loud into the mic. “Two.”

“Alright.” The voice reports from the speaker, a background clicking joining their bored tone. “Two McChickens, a double cheeseburger—ketchup and pickle only— , a medium fry, and an Oreo McFlurry. Anything else, sir?”

Sapnap chews on his lip, and glances at you. You just give an encouraging thumbs up.

“That’ll be all,” he reports.

“Second window, and your total is $9.67.”

He barely has time to call a “thank you so much!” before the line ends with a click. Rude.

“Jesus Christ,” you moan the second you sink your teeth into your first sandwich.

“Agreed,” he mumbles and pushes as much cheeseburger he can fit into his mouth.

“This,” you start, swallowing. “is the sexiest thing I’ve encountered in all of my years. I thank all higher powers when I consume McChickens…” Trailing off for dramatic effect, you stare down the sandwich before mimicking a dinosaur war cry and practically shoving it down your throat. He just nods in agreement.

“It’s so nice out tonight,” Sapnap comments, swinging a look out his rolled-down window. He parked right in front of the Campus Quad, large bubbling fountain the show to your dinner. And some geese fighting each other for half a rotting hot dog.

“Mhm.” You crumple up your wrapper trash and toss it into the empty paper bag. “Could totally go for a swim.”

He turns and gives you a look. You look right back.

“Should we?” It’s barely a question.

“Um, hell yes,” is all it takes for you to say before you’re clambering out of the car and starting for the fountain. He follows closely after, jogging to catch up with your borderline track-star sprints.

“Wait up!” He calls as you reach the border of the fountain.

“Ugh,” you sigh, impatient. “Hurry up.”

“Mouthy,” he grumbles before kicking off his shoes and bending to fold his pants up over his knees. You just climb straight in and brave the cold.

Squealing, you hop from one foot to the other, shoulders tight as you get used to the freezing water. He laughs and climbs in right beside you.

“Shit,” he curses, and shivers. “This sucks.”

“You suck,” you quip right back and splash around. He stares, disgusted, at the water soaking up your jeans all the way up to your knees.

“You’re gross for wearing jeans in a fountain. That’s worse than wet socks.” He starts to move around as feeling comes back into his toes.

“What, would you prefer me taking my pants off?” A sassy look paints your face and he rolls his eyes.

“No, but you could’ve folded them up like a normal person.”

“I think you forget,” you start, and splash a palmful of water his way. “I’m quirky.”

He gasps, face twisting as the water hits his thighs.

“You’re dead.”

If campus police were patrolling the Quad right now, they’d see two college juniors wading around in a fountain, water up to their knees, having a competition to see who can inflict the most damage. He won, it seems, because your shirt is drenched all the way up to your ribs.

“Okay!” You shout, hands spread to brace yourself. The water in his palm falls. “I’m cold and I want my other McChicken.”

“Fine,” he sighs, and with some difficulty manages to get out of the fountain and back into his shoes. You just make your way back over to his car barefoot, braving the mulch and poorly-sanded concrete.

You both finish your food quickly, discussing menial things like how fast food restaurants always skimp on the pickles and how it’s truly a disservice to the world that so many people don’t know it’s Biggie singing the song Kat dances on the table to in the 1999 classic 10 Things I Hate About You.

When Sapnap pulls up to your house, he shifts the car into park and lets loose a heavy sigh. You whip around, hand on your buckle, and sport a very confused look on your face.

“I’m tired,” is all he says. Head falling onto the seat, he rolls over to give you a half-lidded look. You nod empathetically and climb very carefully out of his passenger seat. Your drunk muscles haven't caught up to your mainly sober brain, which is impairing your ability to look like a functioning human being.

“Thank you for tonight,” you chirp, smiling in at him with your arms folded on the open window sill. The half-drank Oreo McFlurry is lukewarm in your hand. He stares at your flushed lips.

“Anytime you want a drunk McChicken let me know.” He winks. “I have a gift card.”

“You spoil me,” you coo, and step up onto the sidewalk. “I’ll see you sometime soon, yeah?”

He nods, pursed lips fighting a grin.

Cute, you both think at the same time.

Sometime soon, somehow, means the very next day.

It’s breezy yet uncharacteristically hot out, and certainly way too bright for a hungover Y/N.

You’re sat on the porch swing, nursing a hot decaf coffee with lots of sugar and cream. Sunglasses sit comfortably on your nose, but you still have to squint. The pills you took have yet to kick in, so all you have to do is wait and try not to vomit into your mug. Suddenly, your phone lights up and buzzes to life. You press the green button and lift to your ear.

“What do you want?” Your voice is awfully froggy, you realize, and clear your throat.

“Good morning to you too.” Sapnap’s voice rings clear yet husky into your ear. The corners of your lips twitch up into a smile. God, you’re whipped just for the sound of his voice.

“It is definitely not a good morning,” you grumble and switch him into speaker phone. You drop the phone into your lap and stretch out further on the swing.

“Good morning for me,” he chirps cheerfully. “Take anything for the headache?”

“Yes,” you report, sounding like a pouting child and rubbing two fingers into your temple. “Some idiot fed me ice cream last night so this morning I woke up having to both shit and throw up.”

“Aww,” he sympathizes, sounding way too entertained. “That sounds like a you problem.” You stuck out your tongue, but upon realizing he can’t see it, make a ‘hmph’ noise into the mic. “Anyways. I called to see if you wanted to go get breakfast with me. Waffle House, specifically.” You make a face but lift yourself up off the swing, wincing.

“I saw a rat eat an entire piece of french toast there once. But—sure. I’ll pay.” He starts to whine, but you scoff. “Let me love you, bitch. You pay for my McDonald’s and I pay for your pancakes. Easy trade.”

“Whatever. See you in five.” He hangs up right as you twist the front door open and drop your phone onto the couch.

“Who’re you talking to?” comes from the kitchen and you jump, pressing a hand to your chest. A shirtless Karl enters the living room with a bowl of fruit loops in his hand.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, and duck into the hall closet for your pair of dirty tennis shoes. “I was talking to Sapnap.”

“Oh,” he says around his mouthful of cereal with a grin. “You guys dating yet?”

You pass him a weird look, bending to tie your shoes.

“Gimme like two weeks. I’ll have him at my beck and call,” you laugh and collapse back into the couch.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He quirks an eyebrow and exits stage left into your roommate’s room.

The few minutes it takes for Sapnap to come to your house are short but filled with contemplation. Do you really want to date him? He’s certainly cute enough. Nice enough. And smart enough. He seems to like you too—

A honk interrupts your thoughts. Always having to be obnoxious, huh?

“You’re annoying,” you mumble as you buckle your seatbelt. He just shrugs, tiny smile tugging his lips, and shifts into drive. The short trip to Waffle House proves more quiet than lively. He seems awake, actually, so you attribute the silence to your tumultuous thoughts. The music is nice, though. Bikini Kill is perfect for 10 am.

After you two order (three chocolate chip pancakes for him and two regular waffles with a side of hashbrowns for you), he finally breaks the silence.

“Hey, are we dating?”

You pause with your lip on the rim of your orange juice. Your gaze falls from his lips to his fingers wrapped around the coffee mug. Two silver rings adorn both his middle fingers and they glint underneath the fluorescent lights.

“Do you wanna?” You squint back up at him. The tips of his ears flush pink.

“I-uh… Yeah. Yes,” he says simply. You try to hide a smile, but realize there’s no point.

“Okay.” You take a long drink of your orange juice. “I really like you. A lot. A surprising amount, actually; I haven’t really dated seriously since highschool.”

He nods, shuffling his feet on the tile. What else does he have to be nervous about? you wonder.

“I’ve… kindasortamaybelikedyousincesophmoreyear,” he mumbles and you swallow.

“Huh?” Leaning forward, you set your glass down.

“Um,” he starts but doesn’t finish.

“Did you say you’ve liked me since sophomore year?”

“...Maybe.” His coffee becomes the most interesting thing in the world, apparently. “Do you remember that one time during the Summer Carnival where Karl lost his phone?”

“Uh—yes! Yeah, actually. I do remember that. He found it in the porta-potty. What about it?” The waitress sets down both your plates in front of you and you offer her a smile in thanks before she trundles off to the drink station. You pick up your fork and wait for him to continue.

“I left two hours early because you invited Michael from your computer science class.” You pause around your mouthful of potato and he just stares back, trying not to grin. “Yeah. I thought you were hot and left early because you brought another guy.”

“Michael is gay,” you say slowly.

“Yup.” He nods and shoves a forkful of pancake into his mouth. “Isn’t that so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you tease but your cheeks blush pink.

“Anyways. Now I’m dating you, so. Win for me.”

“Ditto,” you murmur, and manage to fit half of your first waffle into your mouth. “This is the easiest it’s ever been to start dating someone.”

“It’s ‘cause we’re cool, I’m pretty sure,” comes from a mouthful of pancake.

“That’s facts.”

The rest of Pancake House is bustling, a few families with young kids and some other hungover college students scarfing down similar breakfast foods and confections. You two barely give any other customers the time of day, too wrapped up in conversation and each other. The waitress gets a heavy tip after an hour and a half of struggling to swallow dough soaked in syrup and chocolate.

Sapnap walks you to your door after breakfast, hand on your waist and pressed to your side. It feels good. Right.

“I’ll see you Wednesday right?” You ask, turning to him with hopeful eyes. How could he resist?

“Definitely. Wouldn’t miss Game Night for the world— I can’t wait to beat your ass at Uno.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” You murmur but you’re already slinging an arm around his shoulder and bringing his mouth down to yours.

You taste like sugar, he thinks. His hands find the small of your back easily, pressing you further forward into him. You hum at that, tracking a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair to grip it between your fingers.

He smells both musky and sweet and cool at the same time: heaven. One of his hands slides up to grip at your neck, thumb rubbing at your jaw, and you make a pleased noise into his mouth. There it is.

“Y/N!” Shrieks from inside your house and you jump, pulling away from Sapnap with a smack.

“What?” You yell back, irritated, and he just laughs as he dips to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Stop tonguing your boyfriend and come help me with my photography project.”

“God damn it,” you sigh and drop your hands. His slide down to just rest on your hips, comfortable. “I have to go.” You're annoyed, that’s for sure, and he prays you aren’t too mean to your roommate.

“Alright.” He dips for a quick kiss one last time. Okay, two more times. Maybe three. But he pulls away, grinning. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

And then he’s stepping off your porch, walking to his car with his hands in his pockets. You watch his back fondly.

God, boyfriend. He’s your boyfriend. Boynap. Sapfriend. You can’t decide on a name, but all sounds perfect.

Perfectly him.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D comments = welcome!

[bnhabadass]

Pairing: Shinsou x Reader Genre: Angst with happy ending, NSFW Word Count: 4,049 Synopsis: Shinsou is sick and tired of seeing you go out on all these disappointing Tinder hookups, especially when you always seem to ask him to satisfy you afterwards. But there must be a reason why you keep going on these dates, right? A/N: This is my piece for the bnharem roommates collab. I always forget how much I love writing Shinsou’s character but this definitely brought my spark with him back. Make sure to check out everyone else’s collab pieces on the masterlist!

Another night of tinder swipes. Another night of late night walks through desolate and windy streets. Another night of sleepy dinner and listening to the same old boring stories that every date has to offer. Another night of disappointing sex as he can’t seem to find the hole and his finger nails are sharper than they need to be. Another night of two pump chumps who ask, “does that feel good baby?” and another night of lying through your teeth as you fake moans and count the seconds before you’re allowed to leave.

It’s just like any other Saturday night where your toes are crushed in the tips of your heels and you shiver as you walk back to your apartment, keys clutched between your fingers just in case someone tries to pull something and you need to think quickly. You have your routine ingrained in you, like second nature.

The walk back home is cold and clammy. You can’t shake the feeling of the little hairs on your arms and legs springing up like a cat in shock as the wind pushes right past you. The only thing you could think of to keep yourself from toppling over from exhaustion was the heat that would be coming from your room back home, the fuzzy blanket you’d lie under, and the man awaiting your return to greet you with surprises like no other.

When you did open the front door, heat wafted towards you and your achy muscles began to relax.

“Rough night?” The voice from inside cooed.

“‘Oh baby do you like that?’” you mocked. “‘Does that hurt so good?’”

The person sitting on the sofa with a book covering their face laughed. “Please tell me he did not say that.”

You kicked off your heels and rolled out your ankles. “Shinsou, I swear to god, you have to meet some of these people. This one guy was ridiculous. As I was sucking him off he told me I reminded him of his mother.”

The purple haired young man gagged. “And you still sucked his dick?”

“That’s the best part,” you laughed. “He finished right after he said that.”

Shinsou grimaced. “Why do you keep going on these dates when everyone you end up sleeping with sucks.”

You collapsed on the couch next to him. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because a certain someone always ends up taking care of me after.” Laying your head in his lap, you smiled up at him.

Shinsou gave you a lazy smirk back. “So that’s it, huh? I actually know how to use my tongue so you’re purposefully coming home unsatisfied.”

“I wouldn’t say purposefully,” you said with a mock offended tone to your words. “If there ever is a man out there who did know how to please me then I can guarantee I wouldn’t be coming home every night I have a date.”

He propped his cheek up against the palm of his hand. “But that hasn’t happened yet, has it.”

You loved this, the flirty and dangerous aroma in the air. It was intoxicating and you craved every bit of it.

“So what are we going to do about it?”

You leaned up and kissed him, and then that kiss led to another. Soon you had gotten up and moved into Shinsou’s bedroom. Your tights had been stripped down and your dress was pulled up over your ass.

Getting onto his elbows and knees, Shinsou readied himself to lick his first stripe along your folds and make you melt beneath him.

The week went by, like usual, and your relationship with Shinsou remained the same, just like usual. You’d each come home from work, him tired from training and patrols and you exhausted with paperwork and having to deal with bothersome coworkers taking up all your spare time.

Nothing happens during the week. The two of you laugh and joke around like best friends, like neither of you have seen each other naked, and you’re sure you’re happy this way. That’s what Shinsou keeps telling himself anyway.

You never seem to notice the way his eyes linger on you for a split second too long or the way he glares at your phone over your shoulder as you swipe left or right on dating apps. You’d think that if he was jealous he would try to distance himself, to back away from the trouble you might get in and the disappointment you’d find after each hookup. But no, Shinsou cares too much about you to let you go out on your own without knowing who, where and how you’re setting yourself up for disappointment.

“Hey Shin,” you call from the couch on Thursday night. You’re lying down with your feet propped up against the arm rest. Shinsou has to move them out of the way before plopping down himself.

“What’s up.” His large palm rubbed up and down your legs as they rested on his lap.

“I think I matched with someone who won’t be horrible in bed.” You showed him your phone, and as he scrolled through his profile you could feel the itchy heat of embarrassment rising to your face.

Shinsou’s heart seemed to stop. His eyes widened when he read the words “pornstar” and “Onlyfans'' in the dude’s bio. Handing your phone back to you, he kept his eyes trained on the floor. “That’s great. He seems like he knows what he’s doing.”

“Yeah.” You took the phone back and resumed looking through his photos. “He messaged me earlier and we have a lot in common too.”

Shinsou nodded. Why did he feel so weird? He knew that not every guy you matched with would be a disappointment. He had been telling that to himself for months now, but watching the nervous smile that crept up your face as you received a new message from this guy made Shinsou want to scream. “I’m gonna go for a run,” he said, lifting up your legs to stand up from the couch.

“Really? It’s dark out. Are you sure you want to go running?” You didn’t look up from your phone.

“Yeah I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, stay safe. Oh! Did you still want to watch a movie tonight?”

Shinsou froze. “Um, maybe not tonight. I’m not sure. I’ll see if I’ve cooled down a bit after my run.”

You looked up from the screen, slightly deterred. “Oh, okay. Have a good run.” You weren’t exactly sure what he meant by that. He hadn’t seemed to be bothered by anything earlier, so why was he acting weird now? You were sure you hadn’t said anything to make him upset and when he told you about his day, he didn’t seem bothered by anything that happened at work.

Rolling over on your side, you continued texting this new guy, a new sense of nervousness clouding your vision.

It’s Saturday night and you’re putting on your makeup. Your hands which have never been shaky before have fucked applying your eyeliner three times now. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous. You’ve met up with guys every weekend for months now. Could it be that this guy is different because he knows what he’s doing? Yeah, that must be it. You’re worried that you won’t be good enough for him, right?

Still, that didn’t seem like that was it. You were so excited talking to him at first. He made you laugh and you wanted to meet up with him so bad, to see his charm in person. But then you showed his profile to Shinsou and things started to feel different, like somehow they were falling apart.

You haven’t spoken to your roommate much in the last couple days. His usual pokes and prods at the men you tend to meet up with were replaced with silence. You haven’t joked around like usual or spent time together unwinding after work, and you were worried. It hadn’t been this distant between you since one of your female friends told you about a guy she knew who was looking for a roommate and the two of you met for the first time.

Since then, you haven't gotten anything but closer. You began your weekly rituals of getting takeout and watching movies and getting drunk after particularly rough days at work. Living with Shinsou was the happiest you have been in a long time. So why did that change?

Stepping out of your bedroom, makeup incomplete and dress unbuttoned, you peered into the living room where Shinsou was working.

He sat shirtless on the couch, legs propped up on the automen with his laptop balanced on his legs. His wild purple hair, which had gotten longer since the two of you met, was loosely tied back with a hair tie. His gray sweatpants were untied and you were sure that if he were to stand up they would ride low on his hips.

As you stared at his profile, you couldn’t help but admire how his chiseled face, adorning a pair of reading glasses, looked so serene as he stared at the work ahead of him. He looked calm, calmer than you’ve seen him in a while, and that made his face more youthful. Shinsou stretched out his arms and you could hear his corded back crack before he went back to typing away.

You ran back into your room and slammed the door. Your face was hot and flushed. Beads of sweat permeated on your temples. How could such a simple act of stretching make you feel so hot and bothered and worked up and oh no. How is it that you were so blind? You were in love with your roommate.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

You paced back and forth, rubbing all of the makeup off of your eyes in the process. You stared at your blackened fingers and rubbed them on your dress, not caring that it would dirty. Thinking back to all the moments you cuddled as “friends” and all the times you would lay together after a disappointing date, you were able to pinpoint each exact moment where your feelings grew.

You sat on your bed and watched as your hands shook. You couldn’t go on this date now. You don’t care about the guy, no matter how good at sex he might claim to be. The entire time, you’d just be wishing you were on a date with Shinsou. Granted, every date you’ve been on, a little part of you has wished it was with Shinsou. Every week you couldn’t wait until it was over so you could be enveloped yet again in his flirty aroma that was so, so addictive.

So that was it, you wouldn’t go on the date and things would go back to normal between the two of you. But would they really? What would you say if he asked why you cancelled? All you wanted were things to go back to the way they were. You wanted to bask in the flirty air and feel Shinsou hold you close and caress every curve of your body with so much love and tenderness.

You stood up and looked at your blotchy face in the mirror. Surrounding your eyes was a mix of black and shimmery gold swarming together. You wiped them off along with the rest of your makeup. You won’t be going out tonight so there’s no point of dolling up.

What am I going to do?

You slid off your dress and slipped into a pair of pajama bottoms and threw on a tank top. The least you could be is comfortable in such a stressful situation.

I can’t act the way I used to, knowing how I feel now.

You may have been an idiot for this, but you decided to face your situation head on. Without doing so, who knows how you wouldn’t go crazy living under the same roof as the man you’re in love with.

You stepped into the living room. Shinsou was still typing away and looking over reports, so you cleared your throat to get his attention.

“Hey, you about to go out?” When you didn’t respond, he looked up and his face fell. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you dressed?”

You couldn’t look him in the eye. As soon as you heard him speak and the amount of concern in his voice, you just wanted to cry. The sting of acidic tears and mucus welling in the back of your throat made you want to throw up.

“Did something happen?” He took off his reading glasses and scooched over, letting you take a seat beside him.

But you didn’t move, just kept staring at your cold feet against the hardwood floor.

“(Y/n), talk to me.”

You looked up at him and tears began rolling down your face. You felt so pathetic, that you would be crying over love of all things. Love was supposed to be magical, right? Not embarrassing and tear-ridden. “Can you,” you started, but you needed to take a step back when you heard your achy throat cracking as you spoke. “Can you give me a reason not to go?”

Shinsou adjusted himself. He was clearly trying to make out what you were saying. “What? If you don’t want to go then don’t. No one’s forcing you to go on this date.”

You couldn’t help crumble at what he said. If only he knew what you really looked forward to after each date and what you were really thinking about when you were out with these other guys.

Shinsou stood up as you crumbled to the ground and squatted down next to you, wrapping his arms around you. You sunk into his chest and sobbed against him. It felt so unfair that with his arms around you, you felt whole, like you were two pieces of a puzzle.

“Why do you need a reason not to go on this date? Is he pressuring you or something?”

You shook your head against his chest. “I don’t want to go on a date with him.” On one hand, you thought your subtle hints would get through Shinsou’s thick skull, but it seemed as though they were a paper plane trying to penetrate a brick wall.

“So find some other guy.”

Why was he being so dismissive? You didn’t want just some other guy, you wanted Shinsou.

“Look, you’ve found plenty of other dates in the past, just because you don’t want to go out with one guy doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.” He kept rubbing circles in your back. “Why don’t you call up a past hookup or something?”

You pushed away from him. “How could you say that,” you whispered. “I don’t want to go on a date with one of them.” Your voice began to raise. You had never raised your voice at Shinsou before. “I want to go out with you, you idiot.”

There was a moment where all you could hear were the little noises throughout the apartment like the ticking of the clock in the kitchen or a fly buzzing close by. Then, you slapped a hand over your mouth. You didn’t mean to say that outloud. You didn’t mean to raise your voice or push away from him. But you did blurt it out, and Shinsou looked at you with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

The hair on his arms and the back of his neck raised up like static. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if he should look at you with shock or look away in embarrassment. He was completely and utterly confused.

“Shit,” you whined from behind your hand. “Forget it.” You rubbed the tears under your eyes away and went to stand up. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Wait.” Shinsou grabbed your hand before you could fully stand up. You had never realized how small your hands were compared to his until now. “You can’t just say that and then walk away.”

He was right. You sat back down on the ground, his hand still grabbing onto yours, playing with your fingers. “Okay,” you mouthed, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get any sound out if you tried.

“Why do you go on all of these dates?”

You thought about it for a moment. You were never really sure why you bothered hooking up with so many people, but sitting on the ground with him, you had a pretty good idea. “Because we’re roommates.”

“So?”

You kept your eyes on your fingers intertwined with Shinsous. “Because realizing you’re in love with your roommate is shitty, so the least I could do is hope that after an unsatisfying night of sex, you’d be willing to provide.”

He stopped playing with your fingers and instead, squeezed your hand. “And I hated seeing you with these different men so much that any chance you gave me I ate up.”

You blinked once, twice in confusion before meeting Shinsou’s eyes. “You...”

“Mhm,” he nodded.

The heavy weight of tears on your chest finally lifted. You could finally breathe freely. There was silence among you before the two of you burst out laughing. You rested your head on his shoulder as your chests heaved up and down. When you took your head away to look him in the eyes, he leaned in and kissed you. You didn’t hesitate to kiss back and wrap your arms around his neck.

Shinsou dragged your body closer to him, so you were straddling his lap, and weaved his arms around your figure. He was a good kisser, which you already knew, but you had never taken the time to feel his passion until now. Shinsou made sure to tease you with a darting tongue and hands which traveled down your figure and stopped at the base of your hips.

You weaved your hands through his soft hair and pulled his hair tie out. His fluffy purple locks were so fun and tempting to tug on. Kissing him with this amount of love and emotion enthralled you, and you felt a little disappointed when he pulled away.

“Would you like to move this to my bedroom?”

And you bit your bottom lip before nodding, a smile creeping its way up along your face. You stood up and followed him into his bedroom eagerly.

After Shinsou closed the door behind you, he turned around and snaked his hands up your back. You giggled at the contact and let him pull the shirt over your head. You weren’t wearing a bra, so Shinsou immediately leaned over to take one of your nipples in his mouth. He sucked it until it puckered and let it go with a loud pop.

“You know,” he said, backing you against his bed. “I’ve never been able to say until now how truly beautiful you are.”

“Shinsou,” you sighed, taking a hold of his purple locks. You collapsed onto the bed and let him kiss his way down your front side. His kisses were rough but full of love, and you know they would leave bruises behind.

He slid your pajama bottoms and underwear down your thighs until they pooled on the floor at your ankles. “Everything you do is gorgeous, even the way you’re sprawled out under me, under my command just waiting for me to touch you.”

You could feel your pussy clench at his words and your thighs shook in waiting.

He kissed the top of your pussy and trailed kisses around your thighs. You watched as he hiked your legs over his well muscled shoulders while keeping eye contact. His long tongue darted out and he licked one long stripe between your folds and suckled on your little sweet bud.

You arched your back and let out a choked moan. Out of all the nights you’ve slept together, this was the first time you really saw him for all the love he gave you.

Shinsou kept his face right in front of your dripping hole just for a moment and let his hot breath tickle your needy clit. He chuckled at your squirming form and teased you even further with kitten licks and hands that reached up to squeeze your breasts as he dove in to lap up your juices.

Your hands grasped at his, keeping them firmly clenched onto your chest as he delved in deeper and deeper into your wonderful taste. You could feel your orgasm quickly building up. Your toes curled and knees jerked up, hips bucking your clit further up into Shinsou’s mouth. You let out a loud moan and sigh of relief and surprise when you could feel your juices spraying onto Shinsou’s face and watched as they dripped down his chin.

You had never squirted before. You could feel a calm wash over you as you settled down. Shinsou wiped his hand down his chin. “That was fucking sexy.”

He kissed your lower lips one last time before standing up and allowing you to scooch further up on the bed. You were exhausted but it didn’t matter. Watching Shinsou strip down and seeing his cock spring to life only made you want more of him.

He crawled over you and kissed your lips. He tasted like a mix of your juices and honey, probably from that tea you saw him drinking not too long ago. Whatever it was, it was addictive. “Are you ready?” he asked as he positioned the head of his cock in line with your opening.

You nodded, heaving up and down and running your hand along the side of his face. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Shinsou was thicker than most of the people you had slept with, and you always felt the stretch of him penetrating you every time he pushed himself in.

Knowing that it probably hurt a little, the stretch of it all, he paused every so often and kissed your face, allowing you to warm up before he bottomed out inside of you. You were just so tight and welcoming, it took all his strength not to pound into you immediately, to take it nice and slow as he rubbed against your clit with his thumb.

Your face was hot. It was odd to you that it had never felt this way before, that until now you had never been this nervous to feel his cock pulsing inside of you and to feel his mouth nip at your clit and nipples. You had closed your eyes and focused on your breathing.

Shinsou reached over to tickle the palm of your hand. As you looked up at him, he cupped your face and smiled down at you before he started to thrust his hips.

You squirmed and writhed around as he bucked deeper in and out of the hole that seemed to suck him in further and further.

He felt it was so unfair because he never seemed to last as long as he wanted to when he was with you. The way your aching pussy clenched around him so tight was euphoric. He wanted to let his dick bask in your warm, gushing cavern forever.

“You’re beautiful,” you heard him whisper as he sped up, his orgasm fast approaching. “You’re perfect.”

And again, you squirmed around as that cord built up inside of you and snapped, leaving you gushing around Shinsou’s cock and heaving up and down underneath him.

Shinsou didn’t last much longer. He came almost immediately after you did, feeling your walls clench around him oh so tight. He rolled over next to you and laid his head in the crook of your neck. His hair tickled your nose as you nuzzled into him.

“We should clean up.”

“After snuggles,” he yawned.

You laughed. He’d never been this clingy until now. He had never praised you so much until now. “What does this mean?”

“Hm?”

“For us?”

Shinsou rolled over to look at you. “It means you’re gonna sleep in this bed with me tonight, and tomorrow morning I’m waking up early to make my girlfriend a pancake breakfast. Okay, kitten?”

You had to keep yourself from squealing at the nickname. Instead, you closed your eyes with a goofy smile on your face. “Okay.”

[alygatorwrites]

can I request a lil something? during the end of the manga or after the timeskip if you haven't read it yet, reiner still has feelings for historia and reader has one-sided feelings for him.

pieck gives reiner a small hint, saying he's wasting time while there's someone close to him that cares for him and points to you. he doesn't understand at first and maybe is conflicted about his feelings for you because of historia. reader is cool about it as she doesn't expect him to reciprocate her feelings.

a rollercoaster of emotions later, maybe there is a happy ending tho? i am curious to see what you can come up with 😭😭 i have dreaming of this scenario before bed and i can't help but get jealous of his crush on historia abjdsndks maybe you can help reiner reciprocate reader-chan's feelings or not

thank u so much aly 💖🥺

reciprocation

pairing: reiner braun x reader

a/n: OMG yesss! honestly, i was kinda annoyed at how reiner still had a crush on historia. i know that isayama wanted to show how everything went back to normal, but i was hoping that reiner would have a bigger role in the allied nations instead of being "dumbed down" to having an obsession with her. MAYBE THATS JUST THE JEALOUSY SPEAKING LMAO 😭 i was hoping this would be longer, although school has been killing me so im really sorry!! i hope its okay 💗💕 thank you honey!

↳ to be added to my taglist, please fill out this ♡form♡

as reiner is handed historia’s letter, you fold your hands on the table and watch him without a word. when he reads the lines and smells the parchment - jean saying something snarky afterward - you say nothing.

you want reiner to be happy: you want to see him at ease like this more, face soft as the leaf of the page flits from his pinched fingers.

and so you let the man speak about historia like she’s a damn goddess, gushing over her handwriting, and keep your goddamn mouth shut. ignore your jealousy. your feelings.

the truth is, you’re in love with reiner.

you can’t even remember how it happened, but you can remember the first time you looked into those hazel eyes, and how you knew that they were going to stick with you for eternity.

you’ve come to accept his crush on the queen, though. reciprocation was never an option in your mind.

when jean begins to chew reiner out for lusting after a married woman, and reiner says something about jean being a horse, pieck’s gaze lands on you. “you’re rather quiet,” she says softly, resting her head on her palm.

you shrug, turning away from her. “i’m just tired.”

pieck catches your chin between her lithe fingers, and turns you to face her with a tiny smile. the young woman is very perceptive, and you’ve known her long enough. 

that’s when you notice the twinkle in her eye. she’s planning something.

pieck releases your jaw then, sitting up in her chair. “you’re wasting your time, reiner,” she says suddenly. “there’s already someone you know who cares for you.”

you pretend to not hear pieck - and definitely pretend you don’t see her faintly point at you through your peripheral. the movement of her fingers is barely there, but you catch it.

damn you, pieck.

the way you’re now pinned underneath armin, jean, connie, and reiner’s stares makes your stomach tie itself into knots with bubbling reluctance. shit, this is awkward. you want to run away.

still, you peer over to study reiner’s reaction. he looks confused at first, the contours of his face unreadable. you swear you see connie facepalm at the man’s cluelessness.

then reiner’s expression slowly changes: his eyes widen in awe, lips parting slightly, and brows knitting together. he seems genuinely surprised - and conflicted.

conflicted? why?

there’s no time to explain yourself though, because the door creaks open and annie steps in. her words fall on your deaf ears, and when everyone stands up to leave, you’re the first one out of the room. work beckons you as always.

two days pass.

you’ve been busy filling out tons of paperwork pertaining to the allied nations, so when you’re finally given a day off, you take it with open arms. 

freedom at last.

you lean against a bench outside of headquarters, enjoying the salty breeze that flutters along your skin. it’s dusk, the sky covered in a gradient of neon colors as the sun dips below the horizon.

you haven’t seen reiner since that day in the conference room. you wonder how he’s doing, what he’s thinking, how he’s holding up -

“hey.”

speak of the devil. you glance over your shoulder toward the voice, low and familiar.

reiner approaches you, clad in his uniform: the suit hugs his large frame perfectly, showing every flex of his muscles, and his blonde hair is neatly parted. the black tie looped around his neck just pulls it all together. it has you weak at the knees every. single. time.

“hey,” you answer, giving reiner a smile as he stops beside you.

and that’s when your heart lurches at the sight of him.

the sunset highlights reiner’s profile in gold, a heavenly shine that settles upon his blonde lashes and the flawless slope of his nose. the flecks in his irises sparkle – a beautiful mixture of soft browns and muted greens. the only thing you can do right now is admire the man. 

his words are what breaks you out of your daydream.

“work has been crazy lately, huh?” reiner says, focused on the candy-floss clouds and their fluffy shapes.

“well - yeah, pretty much. i don’t want to look at a pen or a piece of paper ever again.”

“that bad?”

“you have no idea. i almost regret marley and paradis reconciling.”

reiner chuckles gently at the joke, but it’s strained. his forehead remains creased, and he’s not really smiling. the emotion there is more … doubtful. it’s like he’s having some sort of inner conflict.

hopefully reiner’s not acting cautious because of the other day. you know he doesn’t return your feelings, and that’s totally okay. you’re happy enough being with him like this. “i’m not mad or anything, y’know.”

reiner stiffens at that. there’s a white flash of teeth when he chews on his lower lip. “i know.”

“good,” you hum, breathing out a sigh of relief. your core twists with envy when you force a grin. bite it back. tease him like always. “so about historia … ”

reiner’s eyes go wide almost comically, and you hear the breath in his lungs leave his firm chest in one exhale. there’s a light blush staining his cheeks now. it’s funny; he’s so goddamn big, yet he’s such a teddy bear.

“y-yeah,” reiner mutters. you observe the way his brows pinch together as he awkwardly shifts in place. it takes a while before the man composes himself again, which is strange.

is he scared or something? what the hell?

“pieck,” reiner hesitates for a moment. the golden strands of his hair ruffle in the wind and he appears ... well, lost. “was she being serious?”

the question is a shocker - jeez, he could have at least let you prepare yourself. a firm ‘no’ almost slips out, but you’ve never been much of a liar. not to reiner, anyway. crossing your arms against your chest, you inhale sharply and nod. avoid staring at him face-to-face. “yep.”

“ … why me?”

reiner says the words with a mixture of spite and anguish, a casual and rumbling voice. you immediately turn your head, frowning. “what?”

“i’ve done so many horrible things.” reiner exhales heavily and stares down at his hands; perhaps he’s imagining all the blood they’ve been stained with. “i betrayed everyone. i killed innocent people - all because i was selfish.”

it’s no surprise that reiner is broken after everything he’s been through, but it pains you to know that he continues to suffer in silence. whatever war is raging inside his ribcage tears him apart piece by piece, and you wish you could carry the burden. 

there’s probably nothing you can say to convince reiner that he was just a kid, a victim of circumstance. there’s nothing that can persuade him to see himself the way you do.

so you decide to tell reiner why you love him. 

you explain the amount of admiration you hold for him. tell him that you love the way he just wants to be someone his comrades can lean on, like a big brother. tell him that you think he’s the most gorgeous person you’ve ever seen and how you think he deserves the world.

the way you spill your guts out snaps every nerve in your body. you don’t say everything you want to – but you tell him enough. a dark flush spreading across your face, you find the courage to look at him.

the world seems to stop on its axis when you find reiner staring right on back. the intensity of his eyes is stunning; they’re lit up with astonishment and affection.

god, the affection. you see it clear as day. maybe one of the greatest regrets in his life is how he forced himself to see you only as a friend.

that’s when he reaches out to you.

reiner retracts his hand twice, unsure, before slowly brushing his fingertips against yours. the touch is so feather-light that you almost can’t feel it. it’s a test - he’s waiting to see if you pull away. you can’t even move if you wanted to, because his fond gaze keeps you rooted to the spot before him. 

when you don’t recoil, reiner finally moves to gently hold your hand; his palm is so much bigger than yours, and your fingers slot together perfectly, like a jigsaw puzzle’s final piece. 

heart thrumming like a hummingbird has been stuffed into your chest, you’re almost at a loss for words and come to a realization.

this utterly amazing man likes you. always has. 

but reiner shoved away the feelings for one simple reason; you deserved ‘better.’ focusing on the old crush he had on historia was a distraction - an attempt to convince himself to stop thinking about you.

because looking at you everyday and not being able to act upon his feelings was too painful.

“is this okay?” reiner asks lowly. there’s a slight pinkness to his cheeks, the color of a selfless love.

by some miracle, you manage to nod dumbly. “yeah, of course. it’s fine.” it’s amazing is what you actually want to say.  

reiner squeezes your hand at the reassurance, a sigh escaping from his throat. “i really—”

you wait for him to finish, but he doesn’t. reiner just searches your profile for signs of discomfort, and then untwines your hands to bravely swipe a thumb along the length of your cheekbone. 

there’s no time to speak because he’s already leaning down.  

the sensation of reiner’s lips pressing against yours lights your skin ablaze; you can feel the curling flames of passion sear your soul, made even more intense by the warmth of the sunlight on your back.

it’s natural, it’s tender, it’s warm.

reiner’s breath rattles into your mouth when you rest both palms against his solid chest and deepen the kiss. the musky smell of his aftershave and cologne envelops you completely, and fuck, it’s so good. your arms wrap around him, fingers passing over the sharp slopes of his shoulder blades.

as much as you wish the kiss could go on endlessly, there are people gathering outside. avoiding any unwanted attention from nosy strangers is very much appreciated.

you pull away to nuzzle your nose into reiner, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, protective arms moving to loop around your waist. it’s such an intimate caress that it sparks your brain into overdrive.

as the rushing sound of the breeze comes back to your ears through the quiet, you tuck the kiss away to be remembered forever. that’s all there is to it. being close to reiner like this - swaying together like wildflowers in the wind - is more important than anything else.

“i like you,” reiner murmurs.

the suddenness of it makes you laugh, and you can feel the upward quirk of reiner’s lips - a whisper of a peaceful smile and a sweet, sweet promise.

[fangirl-everythang]

Smoke Break C. T. H.

Summary: At Calums' party he leaves for a smoke, y/n joining him later on. Some rando pukes on y/n leaving the two to get away. He maybe receives a gift.

Warnings: Swearing, Sex, Oral sex, smoking, mentions of alcohol.

Word Count: 3475

Calum's POV

Who the hell are these people? It's a party for me and I know no one here. Fucking great, Oh yeah mate, trust me it's gonna be HUGE. You'll love it. This is the last time I listen to Ashton. Do I look like I'm fucking having a great time?

We need to get him a girlfriend. They all tell me I need to settle but I'm known as the lone wolf it never works with the lifestyle we have. Well somehow Luke and Michael make it work but to me it's exhausting.

"Aye mate, having fun?" I turn to see dyed hair and I know it's Michael.

"It's fine." I huff as someone shouts happy birthday once more. I see Roy across the way with some chick and he shrugs at me. I would've just preferred to go see Mali but she's always busy now. I just look at Michael while taking a sip of the beer in my cup I've been on this one since this shit of a party started.

"It could be worse you know? You could-" He's interrupted by Crystal who leans up and whispers in his ear he nods and begins to grab her hand. "We're gonna head out she's not feeling well." He gives me a sympathetic smile. "Happy birthday." is all he says when they begin to leave the room. Welp, there goes another friend.

I haven't seen Ashton since the party started and Luke definitely is getting it in with Sierra right now. Literally, all over each other, it's truly disgusting if you asked me. Deciding to move away from this wall I head to the kitchen to throw this drink away, taste watered down because of the ice. Pushing through the moving bodies and the lights everywhere, I dump that shit in the sink. Ashton comes my way trailing a girl behind him, "There you are! Y/n showed up?" I see the hair of a girl just talking to someone who's just come behind her.

Y/n has been around us for a while. I don't know when but our friendship started after we met at a party. She was waiting for Arzylea to join her when we started talking. Next thing you know she was a part of our inner circle. Not gonna lie, She's my favorite person in the group. Everyone thought that when Arz and Luke broke up, she would leave too but she's still here. And she keeps that group chat very entertaining shall I say. We've hung out a few times, with her it's different though. I don't feel the need to be THE Calum Hood bass player for 5SOS, she knew of me but cared more for the person I was. She asked questions even though she knew the answers. I just felt relaxed with her. As more people entered the kitchen, I go to the back porch where I don't see anyone. There are too many people and I don't even want to think about how to clean this up. Pulling a cigarette from the pack I just let the smoke fill my lungs and slowly exhale while leaning against the siding of the house.

"You know that's an awfully bad habit you have Hood." The familiar voice speaks, forcing me to open my eyes.

I chuckle, "Why aren't you enjoying the party?" I ask her.

"Come on you know that's not my scene." I nod silently agreeing. She looks stunning, the way her dress hugs her body, she's so effortlessly flawless. Most girls have to go through a tribal ritual to look as amazing as her. "Stop that." she laughs.

I shake my head slightly to remember what I just did. "Sorry I-I didn't mean to um yeah fuck." I stumble for words she just nods. "It's okay.'' she looks down and fumbles with her hands. It's cute how she does that, almost like she doesn't know she's the most beautiful person in the room. A harsh gust of wind pushes past and she shivers. I look at her and open my arms with my jacket she rolls her eyes but gets closer. Holding the cigarette with my mouth to free my hands I just pull her closer until I feel the warmth of our bodies touch.

"Thanks" She mumbles against my chest. She looks up at me before pulling the cigarette between my lips, just as I'm about to protest she takes a puff. Watching her smoke is by far the hottest thing I've seen, and I've seen Luke naked.

"Oh look who's punkrock now?" I smirk at her as she brings the burning toxin to my lips. Her laugh. Sounds like fucking angels I can feel her chest moving through my shirt. "Can I be in the band now?" She raises an eyebrow.

Dropping the small bud I just laugh along with her. "hEYYY I'm serious" she wines.

"Sure you are." I smile at her.

"No offense Cal but your party blows." She looks at the lights jumping on the hardwood of the deck.

"It's more of Ashton's," I admit. One hell of a birthday. She wraps her arms around my waist and places her head on my chest. "Happy birthday Cal," she whispers.

"Thank you y/n." I can feel my pulse in my throat. Being with her makes me so comfortable but yet I feel like I'm on fire. She gets me like no one else could imagine. I place my chin on the top of her head and just hold her. I don't want this to end. "Did Ashton invite you?" curious to how she showed up. In the group chat she said she had plans this weekend. I was really disappointed because if it wasn't clear enough I like her a lot.

"Something like that." She reaches for her phone and scrolls through her text. "From Ashton at 6:58 am," she begins to read slightly pulling away to look at the screen between us. "Hey Y/n! know you're busy this weekend but that doesn't matter because Calum likes you and won't admit it but it would be cool as lemons if you could show up." I'm going to fucking kill him. I hope he likes his ashes being burnt with that fucking lemon tree. She smiles at me and I feel like I could evaporate right the fuck here. Oh Ashton. I will kill you. The door next to us opens and some random guy comes out drunk as hell. "Oh h-hey you three," His burp interrupts him, "It's a great party in thheere"

As he stumbles Y/n goes to keep him upright, but his body has other plans. The foul smell that comes from the vomit projecting on Y/n is awful. He apologizes but quickly goes back inside wiping his mouth on his shirt. "Are you okay?" I ask her equally as shocked. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, I grab her hand without waiting for a response and drag her inside. After her many protest and looks from random people that can smell the bile on her, we make it to the stairs. There are too many fucking people here. Constantly pushing past bodies I know none of these bathrooms are cleared. I walk her down the hallway to my bedroom door when someone interrupts me. "Dude, I've been trying to get in there all night. It's locked. Complete dipshit of an owner right." He smirks reaching for a high five. I roll my eyes at his gesture and grab the key to open my door. His smirk fades into one of realization. He tries to apologize but I shut the door in his face after Y/n follows me inside.

I take off my shoes and she looks at me questioningly. "I have a bathroom in here you can use Y/n." as I relock my door. The last thing I need is for some stranger to come messing with my personal stuff.

"You shouldn't have-"

"Shut up. Some stranger just threw up on you. I would prefer to be in here with you than out there where I don't know anyone. Now go shower." She starts to argue but I just help shove her in the bathroom while closing the door. She knocks from the inside of the door, "Yes Y/n?" I smile at her playful banter.

"I need help. I can't reach the zipper" she says through the wooden door. I release the handle and nod. right she can't see me. Opening the door I walk in, "So your plan was to lock me in here?" She smiles looking through the mirror at me while moving her hair to one side of her shoulder.

"Not exactly, I was gonna kidnap you later." I grab the small zipper and begin to undo it. No wonder who the hell can hold this tiny thing. Once I get it down she thanks me. "Just throw it away okay?"

"But-" I stare at her and she agrees. Closing the door to let her shower. Clothes, she needs clothes. I walk into my closet and grab a t-shirt and her emergency bag. She came up with the idea since no one knows how to bring clothes anywhere we all have one outfit at everyone's place. Thanks to Michael she had to wear the outfit here, but her undergarments are still there.

I knock on the door and she's still in the shower so I leave the shirt and the bag on the counter in the steamy room. Walking out I take off the skinny jeans I'm wearing and change into sweats and a t-shirt.

So many options. Who ever came up with Netflix is a fucking genius. My phone buzzes next to me and I see Ashtons Name. A text, great!

From: Daddy 1:17 am

Bryana's here. Gonna go Catch up.

I just send him an 'Ok' because we all know they're still stuck on each other and there's no way in hell I'm going down there. About 20 minutes into big mouth Y/n walks out of the bathroom wearing the clothes I left for her. No one's ever looked that good in my shirt, shit I don't even look good in my shirt. "Thank you Calum" she quietly commented. "No problem." I pat the spot next to me and she climbs in the bed. I hit play on the tv remote as the show continues to play. I can't even focus on the hormone monster on the screen, this feels so fucking right. I feel her playing with my hand as she watches the screen intently. Her brow furrowing when she doesn't get the concept of Jay being a magician or the way her eyes crinkle when she laughs. I could literally just watch her all day. I mean I know she doesn't like me but I can't help but imagine what a relationship with her would be like. I don't want to jeopardize our friendship but this, this feels more important. It's just not fair I mean there's tour and I wouldn't want to be away from her that long if she were mine. I don't understand how she's single I mean look at her. And you don't find many girls with a personality like hers, she's so kind-hearted and the most humble person I know. When we were in Bali, everyone went to this pool resort and we thought she went missing for the day. But she returned home after visiting orphanages and helping at the village day clinic. I don't want to be selfish but I'll be damned if I let her go. I'm so thankful for that girlfriend of Luke's to bring her completely unbothered, outgoing, and amazing friend with her to that club in New York.

"Did you hear me?" The soft voice brings me from my thoughts. I look down at her "No what?" She starts laughing. I see a black screen on the wall and look at her quizzically. She raises her hands in defense "It's been off for the past 15 minutes." she shrugs. "You looked deep in thought." I just stay silent and look up at the ceiling. ''You can talk to me you know?" she whispers.

"Have you ever wanted something you can't have?" I ask. She chews on her bottom lip before responding.

"I suppose, I mean in regards to what?" but I cut her off, "Why'd you come tonight?"

"It's your birthday." she states clearly confused. "Ashton's text doesn't bother you?"

"I didn't think it would have to bother me?-"

"You had plans."

"You mean much more Cal." I let her words sink in. Did she like me the way I like her?or maybe she doesn't and I'm really hoping for something? No. This could never work. I don't do relationships.

"Do you wanna keep watching? " I ask her hoping she'll say yes.

"That was the last episode" she says as she turns to me a glimpse if hope in her eyes. "We can just talk Cal."

"I'm actually pretty tired." She nods, a small frown on her face as she goes and turns the light off. "Night Cal"

"Goodnight Y/n." I whisper before pulling her closer to me. I feel her muscles relax and soft snores escape her lips.

* * *

The sun in the room feels warm against my skin. Opening one eye I see the contract of the bright light against the walls. As I go to move the curtains I feel a warm presence next to me turn. Well, fuck me. Her shirt came up just the slightest to exposed her black lace panties to me and damn is it a sight. Look away. Look away. Look away.

Physically getting up from the bed she pouts and rubs her eyes. "Cal? " her slightly rasped voice speaks. "Yeah just closing the blinds. "

"Can you leave it just a tad. " she ask pulling the covers over her. "The soft light is nice. " I mean I can't say no. "Come here. " she demands and I get back in bed with her. "I should probably start cleaning soon. " I say as a line ass excited to leave the room. All I can picture is how good she looked in these panties and I need to take care of this soon.

"No you won't, since when have you cleaned? Plus I told you I'd help. " my dick is straining against these fucking briefs.

She softly traces random patterns into my skin as we just lay there admiring the room. "Cal" she mumbles.

"You've got an uh-problem. " the blood rushes to my cheeks as she notices my boner. "Sorry i-" I begin to excuse myself from the room hoping a black hole could appear. That would be great.

Surprisingly enough she pushes me to keep me in place. "It just occurred to me that I never got you a gift."

She runs her fingers over my manhood, "Can I make it up to you?"

"Y/n I don't think-" Oh fuck. My dick twitched at the sight of her removing my shirt leaving me speechless. The black lace that clung to her, which landed us in this situation, looked even better than before. "Um you -uh" I start mumbling trying not to look at her body for too long. I mean I could but I'd cum no question.

"It's either a yes or no?" as I was about to answer she started running her hand along the thin black lines. My eyes never leaving her hand as she teasingly rubbed her clit through the fabric. "You see Cal, I want you as much as you want me."

Fuck friendship. I replace her hand with my own to feel her. Fuck how long I've waited to do this. She pushes my hand away from her core while leaving open mouth kisses down my jaw. Licking my earlobe, she whispers, "You're the birthday boy."

She scoots further down the bed until her face is near my groin. This is a sight I could get used to. She slips her fingers in the band and starts pulling my briefs down. Her eyes light up once she sees my throbbing shaft. "You have such a pretty dick." Her thumb runs over my tip causing me to shudder and if possible made me harder. "Y/n you don't have to." My voice cracking a bit, why the fuck was I so nervous.

She rolls her eyes as she kisses my tip her tongue licking along the vein. She slowly begins taking me in her mouth, "Oh fuck y/n" I moan as she swallows around me, her hand pumping what she can't fit all the way. Her mouth is so warm and she's so fucking perfect. My head hits the headboard as my other hand laces itself in her curls as she bobbed her head along my length, letting every sound fall from my lips. Accidentally I pulled her hair which I was going to apologize for until she moaned. The vibrations that sexy ass sound I thrusted up. Fuck no I want to be in her.

"Y/n stop." She let her teeth graze my dick as she moved her mouth off of me. My stiffened member glowing with her saliva.

"I'm sorry this was a bad-" She started mumbling getting off the bed and fixing her hair.

"No!" I yelled surprised at my own tone. "I mean um you're great I just- I want to be in you." The redness on my cheeks very visible. She hesitates before sliding her panties off, "We don't have to I'm sorry I just thought that's where this was going and I-" She kisses me softly and I shut the hell up.

"Calm down, I was just thinking." She says straddling my lap removing her bra. "And before you ask what about well," she lines me with her entrance "It was whether I wanted a condom or not." Our moans are in unison as she slowly slides onto me. Feeling her tight walls stretch around me, her dripping arousal glistening in the soft lights of the sun. The whimper that came from her mouth as she takes all of me. "I'm on the pill and it's your birthday meaning you get the full experience." She says after a moment of her adjusting, sending a playful wink my way. She begins to move and I swear no one has ever felt this good. My hands find their way to her hips slowly rocking her back and forth.

"Fuck Cal" She whimpers as she begins to ride me. I move one of my guiding hands to find her sensitive nub, tracing small circles with the pad of my finger. She jerks back from the touch causing me to smirk, someone's sensitive. I place my thumb over her sensitive nub yet again rubbing back and forth eliciting a moan from her. “Cal I can’t-“ Grabbing her hair pulling her face closer to me, “ You can and you will, got it?” She whimpers nodding in agreement, “I’m not cumming till that pretty pussy of yours is pulsing.” Slowly grinding my hips up, grazing her g-spot with my tip. “Cal-fuck, this was supposed to be your gift.” Grabbing the back of her thigh slowly bringing her body closer to mine, I turn us so she’s underneath me.

“Go out with me and we’ll call it even yeah?” I ask her before continuing to thrust into her. Our moans fall in unison as I pick up the pace. Thrusting into her faster than the time before, the only sounds heard throughout are those of our moans and skin clapping together. My mouth finds its way to her neck, assaulting the soft skin in the area- leaving a reminder for this evening. I can feel her tightening around me, edging me close to my own release. “Cal I’m close.” She manages to mutter as I find my way back to her clit, rubbing fast purposeful circles. Watching the way her pants and moans fall through her lips to the glistening of her chest as it rises and falls with each breath. The sight being enough to drive me to the brink of insanity, “Cum for me y/n.” Almost instantly her eyes roll back as she arches her back, her pussy tightening without mercy forcing my own orgasm to appear. My hips jut forward as I release into her , slowly edging us both along. Our panting is the only thing to be heard as a gently collapse on top of her. “Did you mean it?” She ask, moving the hair from my forehead.

“If you mean me asking you out, yes.” She smiles and pulls my face closer to hers. “took you long enough.” She whispers before attaching her lips to mine.

A/N: (Also posted to Wattpad) I hope you enjoyed it. I'm actually really happy, I've been doing quite a bit of writing so yay! We have another calum smut blurb on the way.I also need help deciding who's the endgame for my Loki/Bucky love triangle but all with time. Anyways I hope you're all having a wonderful weekend!

XOXO Janelle

[after-witch]

Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Title: Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Synopsis: You’ve broken up with Ransom Drysdale, and you mean it this time. But the freedom that comes with the breakup leads to a series of unexpected coincidences that leave you wondering: was it worth the price?

Word Count: 8955

notes: yandere, mentions of physical abuse, financial abuse, comfort sweaters

Nothing lasts forever. Not even relationships--and certainly not love. What might start off as an intense, passionate relationship can (and did, in your case) eventually fizzle; things that you were willing to overlook when you were absolutely besotted would wear down with time, and eventually they became too much to ignore.

That’s what you tell yourself, what you remind yourself, in the moment after you tell him:

“It’s over, Ransom. We’re done. I’m leaving.”

It couldn’t last forever. Not with his inability to stay sober, not with his tendency to cheat on you with meaningless flings that somehow hurt more than any steamy single-minded affair. Not with his flare-ups of controlling tendencies that left you in tears on the bathroom floor as he asked you to please stop dressing like a slut in front of his family, is that too hard to ask?

You’d asked him to change. He swore he would; he never did. You forgave him, more than once, more times than you could count. But enough was enough. Maybe he thought you were too weak to leave him, especially three years into your relationship, when your lives were becoming so integrated, pushing you towards a potential permanent future. It was a future that left you feeling numb and anxious. Stuck in a marriage with someone who wanted to stay with you but treated you horribly, all the same. And that wasn’t even getting into the family dynamics that left your head spinning.

He stares at you now, and his mouth opens just a little bit in what you know is going to be a barrage of questions, insults, maybe even threats spurred on by your words. But instead he closes his mouth and shakes his head, letting out a soft, bitter chuckle.

“Well, damn. This sucks.” You can see the indent of his tongue in his cheek before he clicks and shrugs. “Guess that’s it then. Need help packing your shit or what?”

His response is so blasé that you’re genuinely shocked and, you must admit, a little hurt. He didn’t even ask for a second chance or beg you to stay or argue with you about your terrible timing because our-vacation-to-Hawaii-is-coming-up. So it’s your turn to look surprised, and you shake your head.

“No, I… already took care of it. It’s at a storage locker.” You didn’t have family left, and your close friends had pulled away from you one by one once you stayed with Ransom time and time again--so you’d had to pay movers to help you pack and transport everything to storage over the weekend, while Ransom was away and you were free to make a clean breakup.

He nods, sticks his hand inside his jacket pockets. He’s looking around the room, avoiding direct eye contact in a clear show of his discomfort. It’s weird seeing Ransom like this--the normally self-assured, cocky Ransom, looking for any excuse not to look at you.

“So… see ya around?” His tone is sincere, if still confused. The idea of you leaving must have really never crossed his mind. The look on his face when he finally faces you again appears genuinely puzzled.

He sticks out his hand and it feels almost comical for things to end this way, particularly considering the nights you’d spent imagining some big blow up, some big fight with Ransom screaming and you firing off the many reasons why it had to end no matter what he said.

But it didn’t go the way you expected at all. It was calm. Easy. A clean break-up.

So you shake his hand and grab your purse and the small roller-suitcase and give a half-hearted wave as you walk out the door; the taxi you’d hired to pick you up is waiting, car running, meter going. You would be staying at a hotel for two weeks, which would hopefully be enough time to find a semi-decent apartment; your credit score had improved so much since Ransom added you to his cards, to a shared checking account, and it wouldn’t be too difficult to get approved.

A new life, one where you could focus on yourself for once, was just around the corner.

**

"I'm sorry, miss, but it's definitely not the reader. The card is declined."

You've had this nightmare before. No, you've lived this nightmare before--years ago when your credit was shit and you ran up your cards and had to face the music in a publicly humiliating display with the longest checkout line you'd ever seen behind you. Only that was years ago, in a little grocery store, and since getting together with Ransom you never had to worry about problems like this. You never had to worry about the shame of not having enough, not being enough.

But this? This was happening now. In an upscale hotel. With your nice purse (a Christmas present) and designer clothes (casual, comfortable) and your cheeks flushed undeniably warm.

The hotel clerk has a tight, sympathetic smile on her face. A coworker who walks behind her glances at you, judging, and you just know he's going to head into some break room and tell everyone but yet another piece of discarded army candy with a declined credit card. You wish you'd kept your sunglasses on.

"Did it, um, say why? I don't--" you plaster a smile on your face, hating the way this all feels familiar, like a part of your past coming back to haunt you. "I don't understand, the card is good."

The clerk's smile flickers, just a bit.

"It says there's a fraud alert on this card. Perhaps you'd better call the company. Or would you like me to call them?"

Fucking. Ransom.

"Oh, oh no, don’t worry about it. I’ll call them myself. I'm so sorry about this." You turn away from the clerk as quickly as possible and step away from the counter, away from the person waiting behind you who will surely have no trouble with their card, away from the clerks giving you a passive side-eye. You lean against a cool cement pillar in the lobby and you know what you have to do.

You have to call Ransom.

You haven't deleted his number yet--you'd planned on calling him today or tomorrow to figure out how to split up your shared finances--so it's easy enough to find the number. It's not so easy to tap his contact, but you have to, so you force yourself to do it and stare at his photo as the call rings. And rings. And rings. “Hello?” Your breath catches but in an instant, when the message continues, you feel stupid. It’s his voicemail. Fuck.

You text him, instead. Emergency. Call right away. And of course: He leaves you on read. Fuck.

You call him again. And again. He picks up on the sixth call, but your heart is racing too hard and sweat is beading down your forehead and it takes you a moment to confirm that the "Hello?" wasn't part of the voicemail message this time. Fuck.

"Um. Hey," you say, keeping your voice as un-royally-pissed-off as possible, because if he did put in a fraud alert then you don't want to risk any additional asshole moves. "So there's something wrong with the card? The one that ends in 8921? The hotel said there was a fraud alert and--"

"Did you really think I'm going to keep paying for your shit if we're over?"

His voice is quick, biting--exactly what you'd expected from him earlier. Somehow it stings even harsher over the phone, where you feel more helpless, unable to avoid his words.

"I thought..." you wet your lips, trying to maintain your cool. "Look, my name is on them, so I thought send you my part of the payments until I can get cards in my own name."

He chuckles, low and short. "Yeah? What, you want to create a payment schedule or something?"

You fight back the annoyance in your tone. You hate having to be the bigger person, but your finances--your life--is on the line. "Yeah, actually, that'd be perfect. It wouldn't be for long. You know I'll pay them on time, I'm not looking to screw you over."

"You're going too pay me on time? For all the stuff you've bought, the stuff I’ve bought for you, this hotel room and god knows what else? How are you going to afford all that?"

He knows you recently earned a promotion at your work. He knows this, because you were so excited about it, and his half-assed congratulations over lukewarm leftovers left you feeling bitter and sad and useless. So you can't help it when bitterness seeps into your voice with your answer. "You know I just got a promotion."

"Did you?" It's said in such a casual tone that it gives you pause, but a moment later he simply hangs up on you.

Fucking. Ransom.

You shove your phone back into your purse, and the clerks at the counter are staring at you. Sweat has trickled down your back and your shirt sticks to your skin ever-so-slightly as you pull away from the pillar and approach the counter, awkward smile and cheeks hot.

"There is an issue with the card, they're working on it, so I’ll just call for a new reservation when it's fixed. I'm so sorry for the mix up!" Your voice is so peppy and high-pitched and fake and you feel like you’re back at your old job, feet aching with falling apart shoes, forced to deal with people returning old toasters laden with crumbs, calming they’d “just bought it the day before and it didn’t work.”

"Of course," the clerk says, and you know this is hotel clerk code for "You're a shitty liar."

You roll your suitcase out of the lobby with tears in your eyes and you shove your sunglasses on as soon as you've cleared the building. You feel exhausted, drained--so you use what little energy you have left to start googling for cheap motels.

**

The room smells musty. You pin the plastic sheet you’d snagged at a dollar store over the comforter and pray it will be enough to protect you from whatever is on the likely unwashed fabric. The TV is broken, there’s no WIFi, and there’s a few suspicious stains on the floor that make you wonder if this hotel has ever been featured in a porno, true crime show, or both.

But it’s all you could afford with the cash in your wallet. You only had enough cash on hand for 2 nights at a ragtag hotel that offers nightly and hourly rates. You didn’t dare use your debit card or any credit cards with Ransom’s name or information on them.

You just need some sleep. A good night’s sleep to feel renewed and ready to tackle retaking your life, bit by bit. In the morning, you need to go to the bank and withdraw your money from the joint bank account. Then you can reopen an account in your name, get a new debit card, and apply for a few credit cards afterwards.

Sure, it would have been nicer to do this without Ransom being an asshole. But deep down, you suspected he wouldn’t let you have a clean, lets-still-be-friends type of break. Not after all the times he’d pressured you into staying, manipulating you with words and gifts and promises, promises. Promises that were worth shit. 

The sheet crinkles underneath you as you scroll through your messages. You’d texted a few formerly close friends about the breakup earlier, hoping that they’d maybe want to reconnect. So far, you’d been left on read, blocked, and received only one response: “New number, who is this?”

So much for that. Not that you can blame them. There are only so many times they can rush over for a late night intervention in which you tell them every horrible thing Ransom does (he’s controlling, he doesn’t want me to meet with friends without permission, he tells me what I can and can’t wear, he cheats, he lies, he pushed me--)--before they get tired of you returning to him, again and again and again.

The only one who’d been texting you recently--okay, for the past year--had been Ransom. Mostly dick pics. And demands for you to send him something back, which you always did after a while, because you didn’t want to deal annoyed texts or voice messages accusing you of clearly cheating on him or hating him because why else wouldn’t you be willing to send him so much as a sexy selfie to your boyfriend? 

But in between those, there were conversations. Sometimes sweet ones, sometimes thoughtful ones that always made you remember why you fell hard for him in the first place. Late night conversations from when he was off on trips. You try not to wonder if he was fucking someone on each of these trips, if while you were sending him a late night ramble about a TV show and he was humoring you with jokes and quips, he was actually snuggled up with someone else. Laying in bed, naked, laughing at your dumb ass waiting at home.

The not-so-sweet conversations were ones that you had screenshotted and sent to your friends more than once, before they pulled themselves away. Texts asking where you were. Asking who you ate lunch with, and whether or not you were fucking them. Asking why your new office was connected to a certain co-worker’s, and how many blowjobs you had to give to get said new office because you didn’t tell him about the new office until after you were moved in, so you were clearly hiding him. Asking you to send him outfit pics so he could approve them or make you change if they were too slutty or not slutty enough or if you were only clearly wearing that halter dress to try to get with the bartender.

Yet your mind had always returned to the nice Ransom, the Ransom who made you laugh and squeezed you hard when had a shitty day of work and let you bury your face in his sweater as you snuggled on the couch. Maybe that’s why it took so long to leave.  You were waiting for him to stop being Ransom and start being the fantasy of Ransom you’d conjured in your head.

Your eyes feel heavy so you plug in your phone, turn the sound off, and lay down on the uncomfortable plastic sheet that crinkled over the pillows. It feels strange to lay on a lumpy mattress covered in plastic, after years of custom-made beds and memory foam pillows and all the other luxuries that Ransom was able to provide.

You try not to think about it too much. While you won’t exactly be indulging in all the luxuries you had with Ransom, but your job pays you well, and you won’t ever have to go back to living hand-to-mouth like you did before. You won’t have to worry about late bills and debt collectors and landlords who come late at night and demand inspections while you’re in your pajamas.

You have work in the morning. You have to get to the bank in the morning. Your thoughts are still buzzing with anxiety as you fall into an uneasy slumber.

**

“I’m sorry, but the account has been closed.”

You feel years of customer service training cracking underneath your skin. You can’t freak out. If you freak out, they won’t feel inclined to go the extra mile. You know this, from firsthand experience.

So you take a shaky breath. “Um, this just--it isn’t possible. It’s a joint account. I’m on the account. There was money in there, you can check--”

“I’m sorry, but the funds were transferred and account has been closed by the other account holder. There’s nothing I can do. I suggest contacting the other party in the account.”

You swallow and nod and walk away, this time having been smart enough to keep your sunglasses on to hide your humiliated expression. Why didn’t you insist on having your own account? Ransom said it was better to keep it joint, so you could just buy stuff whenever you wanted. You’d agreed because it was so generous, something you’d never thought possible at the time, when you were used to having to pay overdraft fees and cringing whenever you checked your balance.

Your fingers tremble as you bring up his contact on your phone. You tap. No answer.

You don’t have time to call him two, three, ten times--you have to get to work. So you steady your nerves. You breathe in, you breathe out. You get in your car and plug your phone in and decide to contact your lawyer. Fuck--your lawyer was Ransom's lawyer. But the anxiety eases when you remember that you’d paid him a retainer fee months ago, and Ransom couldn’t do anything about that. You could at least get a basic consult out of the retainer.

The call ringing sounds muffled through your car’s speaker but it isn’t long before someone answers, and you’re transferred to the lawyer Ransom insisted you have--gotta have a lawyer when you have money, babe--and that you hadn’t spoken to in ages.

“Hi,” you say, voice artificially bright, “this is--”

You don’t get a chance to finish.

“I know who this is.” The lawyer sounds tired, and his tone is curt and clipped. “I’m sorry. I’m no longer able to provide you with any legal counsel.”

You almost miss a red light and regret calling the office while you were driving.

“Is this about the debit card? Because I paid the retainer months ago--”

“The retainer has been refunded into the connected checking account.”

Your voice looses its artificial cheeriness and you stumble over your words in frustration. “That’s--it’s--it was a joint account, which is why I called, Ransom drained it and took everything. Isn’t there something we can do, because that was my money too and--”

“I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel.”

You want to cry. You hate crying, as an adult. It makes you feel weak. Especially on the phone.

“I don’t understand. Why was the retainer refunded? Did--did someone call you?”

He clears his throat into the phone. “I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel. Goodbye.”

He hangs up. Your hands shake.

You pull into the parking lot of your work and park the car and as soon as you do, you hunch yourself over the steering wheel and simply shake in frustration.

You have no bank account. Ransom drained it. You have no credit cards. Ransom blocked them. You couldn’t even talk to a lawyer, because--shock--Ransom made sure you couldn’t. Everything was in Ransom’s name. He insisted on adding you to his accounts, closing out your own paltry ones; insisted that he pay off your credit card debt, and making you close those, too, instead adding you to his cards. It was all to help you out, he said, at the time.

Wasn’t it? He was shockingly not judgmental about the state of your finances, and while you’d put up some protest, you didn’t exactly argue with him when he suggested wiping your debts clean and getting your credit back up. And considering that he wasn’t immune to needing a bail-out now and then (late night calls to his grandfather, snarky comments at his parent’s dinner table, come to mind) maybe he could sympathize with being in over your head. Even if your issues were rooted in poverty and shitty jobs and his were rooted in a total lack of financial discipline and, as you’d later found out, a drug addiction.

Still. He helped you before. He would help you now, once he realized how serious it was. For now he was just--reacting like an asshole, acting childish and ridiculous. He was an asshole. You know this. You’ve known this. You need to call him and meet with him and make him realize how ridiculous he’s being, and he’ll sigh and snark but he’ll agree to stop acting like such an ass.

But first you have to work. Life goes on. Even without Ransom--even with Ransom, screwing you over out of pettiness.

The air conditioning in the lobby is on blast, and the familiar smell of clean furniture and floor cleaner from the late-night cleaning crew is surprisingly comforting. Here, you can forget about Ransom--forget about the cards and the lawyer and the fact that your life has been upended in mere hours. If only until your lunch break, at least.

Anthony is working the front desk and you give him a a soft, if strained smile. There’s something in the smile that he gives you in return that reminds you of the hotel clerk. Sympathetic and judgmental.

Ah. You probably look like--well, less than your best, you realize. You did pack some toiletries in your suitcase but the water in the motel had streaks of brown and you didn’t shower, opting instead to rinse your face with what was left of a water bottle you’d bought earlier and layering on more deodorant to make up for the lack of a proper scrub. You probably looked a bit tired, haggard, not unlike some of the employees who got stuck with big clients the night before their paperwork was due.

Still. Nothing that freshening up in your private bathroom--thank god for the new office--can’t help. So you hit the button on the elevator and take deep breaths as you ride up, intent on working as productively as possible. The doors open and you navigate the familiar maze of open-plan desks for the lower-tier workers, desks surrounded by half-walls that always kept you staring straight ahead, lest you accidentally glance over and see a co-worker picking their nose.

Yet as you weave in-and-out of the familiar rows, heading towards the back of the room where the real offices, the ones with full walls and doors and privacy glass lay, you can’t help but feel that something is… off. 

No one calls out to greet you, though that can be easily attributed to the jealousy over your promotion. You’d been working there for far less than most of the lower level workers--Ransom got you the job, with his connections and a hefty revision of your resume and, you assume, some personal phone calls--and you’d already been promoted to senior management. That wasn’t technically Ransom’s work, though. That was all your own effort, your own blood, sweat, tears and intense devotion to each project that came your way. Sure, the connections he helped you make, the dinner parties, all that helped--but if it weren’t for your skills, the connections wouldn’t have made a difference. Right? 

Still, whatever bitterness existed in the people hunch in open-air cubicles, the receptionists always greeted you. But today they caught your eye then awkwardly glanced down, or pretended to be looking for something in their drawers. It was odd. Did you look that bad? That out of sorts?

You shake off the heavy feeling in your stomach and for once, you shut the door to your office instead of keeping it open for passers-by or people needing approval for this-and-that. It feels good to lean against the solid wood door and take a breath, a deep one, invigorating and calming.

A quick trip to the bathroom has you staring at yourself from all angles. You don’t look that bad, you reason. Just tired. But who wouldn’t be, sleeping on a plastic sheet in the shittiest motel in the area? You take a quick sniff under your arms but even that reveals nothing much but a faint hint of sweat and powdery deodorant.

There’s a firm knock at your office door and you glance at the mirror for a final once over before opening it up. It’s your boss. Did you have a meeting? You try to do a mental scan of something you’ve missed, but nothing comes to mind.

“Hi,” you say, wavering with uncertainty at the threshold. Should you invite him in? “What can I do for you? We didn’t have a meeting, did we?” You let yourself chuckle, dry and quick. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit scattered this morning.”

Your boss doesn’t return your chuckle, which immediately raises the hairs on the back of your neck. Something was wrong. Shit--you were working on a major project for a seriously important client. The type of client that could genuinely make or break a company, if you got on their bad side. You press your lips together and make a silent vow to keep it serious.

“I’d like to keep this conversation private.” His tone is low and serious and you invite him in without a second thought, shutting the thick door behind you, trying to ignore the way everyone was shooting glances as it closed. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your thoughts race--no wonder everyone was giving you the stink eye. Something was wrong with the client, and you were the one making primary contact with them.

Your boss takes a seat on the leather sofa pushed up against the wall and you immediately set yourself down behind your desk.

He sighs. Short. Frustrated. Annoyed.

“We have to let you go.”

The words don’t register.

“Go where?”

It’s only after you say it that you realize what he said, what it meant, and you feel like a colossal moron in every respect.

“It’s not working out,” he continues, staring at your desk and not at your face. “Since you’ve only been in this position for a month, you don’t quality for senior severance. The best we can do is to pay you what you’ve earned this week.”

Your mouth is so dry that you don’t know if you can talk. Your hand fumbles on your desk for a water bottle you’d left overnight, and that’s when you see it--the photo frame. You keep a photo of yourself and Ransom, cuddled together for a selfie, on your desk. The photo was lying on your desk, frameless, ripped in half--leaving only your vacantly smiling face staring up at you.

Ransom was here.

“Did he put you up to this?” You whisper. “Did Ransom tell you to fire me?”

You know he won’t answer. But you stare at him so fervently that he can’t help but look up at you, and you see it all in his eyes, in the subtle, embarrassed expression of his face.

You can imagine Ransom strolling in--maybe he called first--and settling in for a private audience with your boss in his office. He’d probably pull the chair up to the desk and put his feet on it, just to be an ass. Then he’d bring up… you. And why you had to be let go. Did he give a reason, did he tell your boss why a respected employee who he once secured a position for, who shot up the ranks through intense effort and work, needed to be fired? Did he even need to give a reason?

“This is absolute bullshit,” you say, finally, voice dry and hoarse and bitter. You want to say you’ll be contacting a lawyer. That this won’t stand. But you know--and he knows--that there’s nothing you can do.

Your boss stands, slow, and sighs again. “I’m sorry it had to end this way. Pack up your things as quickly as possible.”

He leaves, and you keep your eyes trained on the ripped photograph to avoid seeing the expressions of the people in the doorway before your boss mercifully shuts the door.

It takes all of your effort not to cry.

You don’t have much effort left.

**

Your things consisted of a handful of personal items, little touches you’d brought in to make your office feel more like “you.” A nice picture print. A pastel afghan to drape over the couch. A stapler with a floral design. You have the strong urge to dump them in a trash can, but that’s quickly quelled by the realization that you can’t afford to buy new things, or any things, at this point.

You don’t care if wearing your sunglasses as you power walk to the elevators makes you look stupid. You know someone, somewhere in this office is filming you and probably captioning it with something stupid to post to their Reels or TikTok, and it just makes you leave faster. A few people murmur comments your way, sympathetic in tone, but you’re not really listening. None of their platitudes matter, because Ransom was here, in your workplace, in your office, and he stole the thing you were most proud of from under your feet.

To his credit, when you reach the bottom floor, Anthony practically fumbles out from behind his desk and holds the door open for you. He mouths a “Sorry” and he probably is, but he’s probably used to dealing with rich assholes like Ransom who get what they want, when they want it; even when what they want is to fire a good employee on demand for very personal reasons.

The sun is beating down hard, even for the morning, and the stress of your situation makes you blast the air conditioning as soon as you get in the car. God, the car--how are you going to afford the payments? You wish you could call your mom. You wish your friends--are they even your friends, anymore?--would call you back.

You grab your phone from your purse and stare at the black screen. Maybe you should call the friend who didn’t block you. She would answer, if you called, because she knew you didn’t make calls unless it was serious. She might not rush to your side, but maybe she can offer you a place to stay, a couch, some advice. A kind word would do, right now, with how much anxiety and frustration has been packed into the last 12 hours.

But when you unlock your screen, your gut sinks. Five missed calls. From the storage company. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You tap their number and bring the phone to your ear and pretend that your hands aren’t shaking.

The man who answers is the same one you talked to on the phone before, when setting up your move. “Hello, Move’nSecure Storage Company. This is Steve speaking. How many I help you?”

“Hi Steve!” You hate how chipper you sound. “I actually just got a few missed calls from you guys, I’m sorry, I was in the office and--”

“Oh.” His voice is surprisingly flat, suddenly flat, losing its customer service inflection in an instant before picking it back up. “Yes. We’ve been trying to reach you. For confirmation, the storage locker your purchased is A443, correct?”

You fumble in your purse for the receipt and confirm the little numbers printed neatly on the paper. “Yes, A443. Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not.” You’re grateful that you didn’t have much for breakfast because you know it would be clawing its way back up at this point. “The card you gave us for the storage fee was declined.”

The debit card. You’d paid in cash for the move, and paid for 1 month of storage with the card. The card that was now useless, connected to an empty and closed bank account.

“Is there another card you can give us?”

“No, but...” You say, because no, there is not. There is not a card. There is not a job. There is nothing. “But if you could just hold my stuff, I’ll be there in less than a hour to get it.”

“We don’t hold items,” Steve tells you, a rehearsed banality to his tone. “Your items are currently outside the unit.”

You instinctively want to yell at Steve but, fuck fuck fuck, you’ve been there, behind the counter, dealing with people who couldn’t pay for shit and then had the nerve to get upset with you. “All of it?” You ask, your voice cracking slightly.

“Yes.”

You hang up, and toss your phone onto the passenger seat. The quicker you get there, the less chance that something will get broken or stolen or who knows what else.

The trip to the storage unit seems to take forever, and when you arrive you don’t even take a second to lock your car doors. Instead you sprint inside, startling Steve--looking at his phone, then at you, then at the sign plastered up on the wall leading to the storage locker floors. He points. Row A, separated into 100s, 200s, 300s, and--your number--400s.

You don’t remember if you say ‘thank you,’ because you’re speed-walking down the hallway and following the signs and it isn’t long before you see it: a storage locker with tons of stuff piled up, dumped, outside the now-empty unit where it was supposed to be safe and sound. Waiting for you to get an apartment and pick it back up and rearrange it into your new life, your new “you.”

The problem is immediate: You can’t fit all this in your car. You don’t know anyone who could take the stuff for you. You mind reels for options and the only thing you can come up with is ferrying your belongings to and from the hotel. You can pay for a few more days once you cash your partial paycheck. After that… you don’t know.

Pawn your things? Yeah. That might work. You can get enough cash by pawning most of your stuff, the good stuff. Enough money to get you into a shitty apartment with leaks and a bad landlord. Then you can a job that barely pays rent and you’ll be right back where you started, before you met Ransom. Before you thought leaking ceilings and $20 paychecks after taxes were a thing of the past.

You ignore the humiliation that makes your stomach curl as you take your things out to the car, handful by handful. Steve doesn’t bother holding the door open for you. You mention that you’re going to be back on your way out, and he offers a non-committal hum.

At least when you get to the hotel, the owner sees you fumbling with boxes and offers to help you out. It takes less time with two hands to get everything in the room, and once it’s locked up you head back out to the storage units.

You keep your sunglasses on for the second trip into the storage unit, even though you don’t know Steve or care what he thinks. He doesn’t look up when you walk in and it’s just as well, since you’re only heading back to the A-400s and don’t need his non-existent help.

But the sight that greets you when you round the corner to your unpaid-for storage locker makes your blood run cold.

Your stuff is gone. All of it.

You rush back to the desk, where Steve does look up, startled by your urgency.

“My stuff,” you spit out, “My stuff is gone! Someone took it!”

Steve shrugs. “Sorry.” He points to a sign behind him: “We are not responsible for the loss of items inside or outside storage lockers.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” You can’t the anger in your voice this time. “You just watched someone walk off with my stuff and didn’t say anything?”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “If it was that important, you shouldn’t have left it here. Or you should have given us another card.”

You feel like throwing your hands up but you just clench your fist and storm out the door, huffing as you reach your car. The anger melts into the sense of loss, the realization that you only have a few meager items that you’d managed to collect; you picked the lightest stuff, first. And in retrospect it was things that didn’t matter much at all. Clothes. Hair supplies. Makeup. You should have grabbed the box with your USB sticks, your memory cards, your photo albums; your personal mementos and sentimental shit. Instead you grabbed the box with your shampoo.

At least the clothes might get something in a pawnshop. The makeup, too, on Facebook or Depop or Instagram. But it wouldn’t be enough to put you up in an apartment. You’ll have to live in your car. Until they repossess it for lack of payment.

You don’t have your bank account, your credit cards, your job, a place to stay, or your personal possessions. And soon, you won’t have your car.

You have no friends. No boyfriend. No family.

All you have $20 left in your wallet and well, fuck it. You grab some McDonalds on the way home because, fuck it, and eat all the fries before you make it to the motel. The thought of eating in your dirty room makes your stomach turn and you decide to eat everything else you bought, the burger and the shake and the chicken nuggets too, tossing the wrappers on the floor. It feels like deja vu--getting cheap fast food to make you feel full, tossing trash on the floor of the passenger seat, all bringing back the way you used to when you’d grab something from the dollar menu on your way to work at the call center.

You almost wish you could stay at this hotel, brown water and all. The owner is decently nice. He smiles at you when you enter and doesn’t bring up that you didn’t come back with more boxes, like you said you would.  

You’re surprised at how grateful you feel for the dingy hotel room now that you won’t be able to stay here more than another day. Now that the alternative is sleeping in your car, then sleeping on the street, if you were lucky.

Your phone feels heavy when you set it on the table and stare at the home screen. Another photo of you and Ransom stares back up at you. You haven’t had time to change it up yet. He’s grinning. You’re smiling. It’s a good photo. You try to place it in your memory, try to remember what beach that was, but your trips blur together and you can’t.

Should you call him? If it was just the cards, just him being petty over credit and finances, it was one thing. You could try to placate him with returning gifts, just asking him to give you what you put in from your own paychecks. But making you lose your job? It was too far, too fucking far. And there was no going back from that. Fuck, someone was probably moving into your office as you sat in this dimly lit room mourning the loss of your entire life.

For a brief, very fleeting moment, you consider calling Harlan. You weren’t exceptionally close, but he seemed to like you well enough. He’d even asked you once, puling you aside at a tension-filled family party, if Ransom treated you right, told you to tell him if he ever got to be too much. Harlan felt like Ransom’s keeper--in more ways than one. You could never tell Harlan about the shouts or the occasional bruises from when Ransom really, really lost his temper--it’s not like you could prove them, anyway, as Ransom made sure to keep you away from his family when he lost control like that. No need for excuses about running into doors when he made sure you looked your best at family functions.

But the thought of breaking the uneasy stasis that Ransom had with the most significant member of his family made you want to vomit. There would be no coming back from that, and you knew better than to cross any line involving the great Harlan Thrombey.

You could call your friend--ex-friend? The one who didn’t block you or forget your number. You should. No, you will. Because what else do you have to lose.

But before you can bring up her number, you get a text--Ransom. It’s a photo and your curiosity gets the better of you as you click the notification.

“What the fuck?”

He’s sent you a photo of his car, trunk open. It’s filled with boxes, odds-and-ends. It’s filled with your stuff.

You text him: What??

He texts back: Hey. I’m in front of the hotel. Come out? Bring your suitcase. :P

It’s your stuff. It’s his car. He’s here. All reason is thrown aside as you grab your suitcase and purse and rush down the hallway, ignoring the owner’s confused response from behind his desk as you push open the front doors and look around the parking lot.

His car is parked to the side, not in front of the hotel’s glass double doors. He’s standing outside his car, leaning against it. He takes off his sunglasses and tucks them in his pocket when he sees you approaching, face confused and fuming all at once.

“What the fuck, Ransom, what the fuck is your problem--”

“Hey, hey,” he says, hands up in defense, “You’re not even going to thank me for picking up your stuff?”

You feel suddenly, impossibly rooted to the spot.

“What do you--what? You took my stuff?”

He shrugs. “C’mon, did you really think I’d just leave your stuff in some shitty storage unit? Someone would’ve taken it if I didn’t get there first.”

You swallow. “Why?” You ask, because Ransom never does anything for no reason. Or so you’ve learned.

His expression loses a bit of its cocky casualness. He tilts his head a bit, looking at you as if you’ve asked a particularly offensive question.

“Why do you think?”

To lord it over you? To make you think your stuff was gone and make you worried, sick, crazy?

“I don’t know,” is what you settle for in the end. “I really, really don’t. You--” You lick your lips, and try to calm down, calm the pitter-patter of your heart, and think before you speak. “You’ve done some pretty messed up stuff today. My job?” The last question comes out soft and pained, and you know your eyes are starting to tear up.

“Hey.” His voice is soft and placating and it makes your stomach flip as he approaches you, standing there on the sidewalk with your purse and suitcase. “Hey, c’mon. Don’t cry on me.”

You know this Ransom. The Ransom that holds you and pets your hair and offers to get Thai food delivered even though he doesn’t like it just to make you happy.

He puts his hand on your shoulder and you jerk it away. “Don’t.” That Ransom is a fantasy. Or an incomplete version, the version that pretends he doesn’t lie and cheat and hurt you in more ways than one. “Don’t you fucking dare, especially not after what you pulled today. My job? My job, Ransom? You’re a--a fucking asshole.”

He puts his hands up again, defensive, and takes a step back. But he doesn’t return to his car, and stays just a few steps in front of you.

“Look. Call me an asshole. Sure, fine, I can admit that. But do you know what else I am?”

He waits a beat, waits for you to look at him, before he continues. “I’m a realist. I like facts. And the fact is? You aren’t much without me. No job, no credit cards, no bank account. Without me, you’re just some broke chick scrambling to get an apartment in the shittiest part of town, working a dead-end job that don’t pay shit. With me though…. “

He leaves the words unfinished, but you know what he means. Flashes of your life, cocktails and smart business outfits and dinners at restaurants you didn’t even dream about attending before you met him. Phone calls with shakers in the industry and social media requests from people you’d never dream you’d meet. Connections that meant something, a career path, dinner parties with people who could offer tangible benefits to your career and your life.

It wasn’t that he spoiled you. He wasn’t a sugar daddy. You weren’t getting gifts for blowjobs. It was that his presence in your life boosted you, socially, financially, mentally, physically, in every which way possible.

His presence got you a job that you loved, which meant you weren’t burnt out when you came home, which meant that you had the time and energy to spend hours catching up on books or redecorating the house or watching movies. Good money meant you could order in whenever you felt like it, meant you didn’t have to worry if you burned dinner because you could just buy new steaks or order-in or go out, last minute, and still get a great table. It meant you had all the clothes you wanted, stylish and personally tailored; it meant you had easy access to a gym and exercise equipment and an indoor pool to keep you healthy. It meant you had a life that provided comfort in every way possible.

Being with Ransom Drysdale was like… like a little shot of privilege directly into your arm.

Privilege that he took away just as easily as he gave it. Just as easily as you took it. Just as easily as you took it and eagerly ignored the dark side underneath. Or maybe you didn’t ignore it. Maybe you liked it, maybe it reminded you of who you were underneath the designer clothes and expensive dinners.

Maybe you wanted to fix him, like he fixed you? He wasn’t totally bad, after all, he did make sure no one took your belongings. Maybe it was your presence that gave him the idea for that touch of sympathy, maybe with Ransom change was slow and muddled, not picture-perfect sweeping changes like the kind in movies.

“So?” Ransom’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Are you going to come home or,” he waves his hands around dismissively, at the hotel, at you.

You feel very, very less-than right now. You look awful, your hair mussy and your makeup mostly melted off with sweat and sun. You probably smell more than you normally do, thanks to the lack of a shower. Your muscles, sore from the motel bed, ache for the large spa bathtub that Ransom had installed in the master bathroom just for you, stocked with bubbles and salts and overpriced bath bombs that were $10 a pop.

But your muscles had hurt before, when he pushed you against the dresser.

You have nothing, and no one. Except Ransom. Ransom who didn’t judge you when you instinctively saved plastic bottles and boxes, but merely nudged you towards recycling and took you out to splurge on a reusable water bottle and proper storage containers the next day. Ransom who asked you what sort of job you wanted, really wanted, and made it happen for you. Ransom who shrugged and wiped away your credit card debt without making you feel like shit.

Ransom who didn’t let you leave the house if your wrists were sporting fingerprint shaped bruises. Ransom who argued with you about talking to men, even men at work. Ransom who held you tight at night and said he never wanted to let you go, and wouldn’t you just make a fine-ass addition his crazy family. Ransom who took care of you, now that you had no one else.

“What do you want me to do?” The words feel slow, sluggish. Like they wanted to stick to the roof of your mouth and it took everything in you to get them out.

His voice turns low and serious as he stares at you with an characteristic expression. “Well, the first thing is to get down on your knees…”

You feel your eyes practically bugging out.

“What the fuck, Ransom?”

He laughs. He always did have a nice laugh.

“I’m just messing with you, Jesus. Take a chi-I-il pill. Just grab your purse and come sit your sweet ass in the front seat. Let’s go get some burgers, I’m starving.”

Your legs feel like jelly when you take that first step, and the sound of your roller suitcase as you pull it along seems louder than ever. Ransom pops the truck and you just manage to fit it inside with the handle closed, jamming it in between some boxes at an odd angle. The handle of the passenger side is familiar, warm from the sun.

You open the door and practically shove yourself into the seat, closing the door as fast as possible. You can’t do more than glance at him as humiliation and anxiety and just the smallest bit of relief washes over you. It’s been less than 24 hours since you broke up, and here you are--again.

He’s staring at you quietly, his expression difficult to place. He looks relieved. He looks annoyed. He looks like he wants to kiss you. He looks like he wants to slap you. Maybe he wants to do it all at once and can’t decide which to pick.

Instead, he puts his hand on your thigh. Gives it a squeeze. Hard, bordering on painful.  He’s staring straight ahead, at the worn-out sign on the hotel’s front door, one hand gripping the flesh of your thigh. He looks good in profile. “Don’t ever try to pull something like that again. I mean it. I really mean it.”

You turn, glance out the window, familiar tears at the edge of your eyes.

“I won’t,” you whisper, dreaming of the tub and bubbles and how good a warm soak will feel on your back, on your thighs, on your soul.

“Good girl,” he says, patting your thigh firmly. He plucks his sunglasses out of pocket and puts them on in a smooth motion. The car starts smoothly, its fine-tuned and expensive engine a familiar sound, and your hands feel robotic as you pull the seatbelt over your chest and click it tight.

“Let’s get dinner and get home. You have some unpacking to do.”

[binunus]

sex with bin x eunwoo (m)

a/n THIS WHOLE ALBUM??? IS SO GOOD??? LITERALLY WHAT THE FUCK !!!

also im so so sorry that i keep disappearing, every time I think I have a break in school, my professors keep going like sike here’s a new assignment and group presentation 🤡, but I swear I’m still working on all the requests, it’s just a real slow progression this time 😔

but thank you all so much for being really patient with me and my works, i legit wanna cry when I think about how sweet all you loves are ❤️

→ genre: smut

→ tw: threesome, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it lovies) dom!binwoo, brat!reader, light bondage?? anal, eiffel tower, oral (f and m receiving), fingering (f and m receiving), ~choking~ bc it’s me, squirting, v-voyeurism??

→ word count: 3.3k _________________________________

oh good fucking lord

I don’t even know where to start

just the thought of getting dicked down by these two immaculate men??? at the same time??? i would sell my soul

and just binwoo are literally my biases?? im still going back and forth between them (even though I think bin is the top)

alright so how does this little thing even start

this is a non-idol au, lowkey this request is giving me frat boy vibes oops i said it

bin and eunwoo are close, they’re best buds

they have fucked the same guy/girl before, but never at the same time

they just have the same taste in people wink wonk

sidenote: bin and eunwoo as bi kings??? so much power fuck

so you are a mutual friend

you met them both in college and have stayed friends since then

but relationships aren’t for you (not yet at least)

the streets™ are still your companion

yes you have fucked both bin and eunwoo before in college, eunwoo once when you were junior, and bin a couple times throughout senior year

you don’t talk to them often, but if something comes up on your feed or a monumental event happens to any one of you, of course you’d spike up some conversation

so you’re coming back in town for a week or so, visiting old friends and family

and bin hits you up like “hey, I saw that you were in town! we should get some dinner and catch up!”

and you were not about to say no to that, bin was a good part of your college years! it would be nice to hang out with him again

alright you weren’t expecting to get action from this dinner – it popped in your mind, yes, but it wasn’t the ulterior motive

but did you try to dress up a little to impress moon bin?? maybe so

and shit, when he showed up to the restaurant looking like a whole ass man?? 

like did his biceps look more appetizing than the food you were being served? a little bit

conversation was exchanged very easily, you and bin were always a bit flirty with each other, ever since college, but you both knew it never meant anything beyond sex

and so when he asked if you were dating anyone, you knew this was the invitation, and were you going to accept it?? 100%, you haven’t had sex in a while because of your job

and so you find yourself back in bin’s apartment

bin: hm? I guess eunwoo’s not home from work yet

you: eunwoo? as in cha eunwoo? you guys still live together?

bin: yeah, we like living together, rent was cheaper that way, and this place is equidistant from both of our work places...is that a problem??

you: no, I mean it makes sense, just...what if eunwoo comes back while we’re in the middle of fucking...wouldn’t that be weird?

bin shrugging: you’ve had sex with eunwoo in college too, and it’s not like he hasn’t seen me naked before either. who knows he might even wanna join?

he said that as a joke alright

but as soon as he mentioned it, your eyes dilated a bit

bin noticed immediately and he caged you against the wall, a little smirk playing on his lips

bin: you seem to like that idea, y/n. hm? you wanna get fucked by both me and eunwoo? didn’t know you were into threesomes

your cheeks are flushing, you felt seen: would you feel weird if he joined? you guys are friends and roommates

bin shaking his head: me and eunwoo have talked about it before, and honestly this seems like the perfect opportunity. we’re all friends here.

you being nervous a little bit bc a threesome?? with both bin and eunwoo?? those two 6 foot attractive men??

you tried a threesome before bc you were curious, but it wasn’t the best hookup experience

you: should we...? wait for him??

your cheeks are flushed a little, like how were you supposed to go about this

bin smiles bc you look a bit cute right now being all shy and he just pinches your cheek

bin: you got cuter since we graduated y/n

you: shut the fuck up bin, don’t make me tie you up again

bin smirks and his hand moves from your cheek to fully grasp at your neck, he squeezes your throat as he pushes you so that your back collided with the wall: baby, if anyone’s getting tied up tonight, it’s gonna be you

and god if you weren’t horny before, you definitely are now, especially with the way bin was cutting off your airflow??? your head was spinning in the best kind of way

bin slotting his thigh in between your legs as he just crashes his lips onto yours

and he’s still choking you when he literally shoves his tongue down your throat, you have to grab onto his broad shoulders just to steady yourself

making out with bin is so hot

he picks you up by your ass and you wrap your legs around his waist, you both are still making out as he leads you to the couch

you’re straddling him oh lord have mercy

you in between kisses: why don’t we go to your room? what, is it messy?

you moan as he spanks your ass at the quip: we’re gonna need to do something about that smart mouth of yours baby...and we’re here to give eunwoo a little show when he comes home. Why, you need a bed? pillow princess? last time I remember, you were fine getting fucked in the maintenance room.

you two go back to kissing, bin’s hands were gripping at your waist now, lifting up the bottom of your shirt so that you could take it off

never in your life have you been so happy to wear a skirt, you could feel the outline of his bulge against your underwear, the fabric of his jeans giving you just enough friction

and when you start grinding on him, he grunts into your mouth and bites on your lower lip

and fuck when bin removes his shirt? he was always built in college but the definition of his muscles now?? you were literally drooling

you: holy shit bin, isn’t your job in business? where do you find the time to workout?

he’s kissing your neck now: you can always find time to workout y/n, just make it part of your daily routine

exercise evangelist moonbin™

you’re tilting your head to the side giving him more access, bin’s sucking hickeys into your neck and it just feels so good

your neck’s a sensitive spot, if you couldn’t tell

and bin knows that so he’s paying extra attention to your neck, you don’t even notice when his hands go around your torso to unclasp your bra

the two of you are literally just topless on his couch, making out and feeling each other up, when lo and behold, eunwoo comes home

his eyes go wide and he immediately covers his face: jesus christ bin, go to your fucking room

bin starts laughing, you know his laugh where his eyes literally crinkle and he smiles so wide and his laugh increases in pitch, that one

you can’t help but laugh too, you thought you would be embarrassed, but this is a bit funny

you: you don’t have to cover your eyes eunwoo, it’s not like you haven’t seen any of this before

eunwoo: oh shit, hey y/n, didn’t know you were coming over?? well...uh if you guys aren’t gonna go to bin’s room, I’m going to mine and just let me know when you’re done

bin: you sure you wanna go to your room? y/n wants you to join us

eunwoo’s blushing a little bit (he’s not covering his face anymore) when you two meet eyes: are you sure y/n?

you get a bit shy again bc shit, eunwoo in a suit coming from work with silver-blue hair? sexy

you: yeah...if you want to, me and bin are cool with it.

bin’s back to kissing your neck as you basically watch eunwoo remove his jacket and tie

and oof him unbuttoning his dress shirt? y’all he’s a tease, they both are

bin: let’s take this back to my room

eunwoo: we can go to mine, it’s cleaner and my bed’s bigger

you: i knew it

bin bites your shoulder and you let out a mix between a yelp of pain and a moan

bin: eunwoo get your ropes, we need to teach y/n a lesson on being bratty

eunwoo chuckling as he leads the way to his bedroom

bin already made himself comfortable on eunwoo’s bed, and you’re standing to the side making conversation as eunwoo looks through his closet for the ropes lol

as soon as eunwoo finds it, there’s a dark change in his eyes and he smirks at you: why don’t you join binnie on the bed, y/n?

your stomach turns in excitement, eunwoo tosses the ropes to bin and he puts a hand on your back as he leads you to his bed, and before you could get on by yourself, eunwoo just tugs your skirt down making you gasp

you lie down and bin grins as he binds your wrists to eunwoo’s headboard, usually you would put up a little fight when you get tied up, but you just stayed silent, you were anticipating what would happen next

bin: you’re being oddly obedient y/n

you’re a brat okay, but in the past when you and bin used to hook up, your brattiness increased by like 100%, like you’re extra bratty with bin for some reason

~it is what it is~

maybe it’s because eunwoo’s here too that your bratty side has suppressed a bit

bin and eunwoo both start removing all their clothes and you’re like shit eunwoo’s built too

bin settles in between your legs and eunwoo leans in and starts kissing you

and mmm eunwoo’s good at making out like he legit be taking your breath away and then you start feeling bin take off your soaked panties and he just goes right in

you literally moan into eunwoo’s mouth and your hands are straining against the ropes bc you just want to hold onto something !!

eunwoo feeling up your breasts and tweaking your nipples while bin is sucking on your clit and probing his tongue in and out your entrance??? euphoric

you’re literally feeling so many sensations right now and it’s just foreplay woo

and then the edging starts

bin??? hella good at eating out, oof what that mouth do

and with the added stimulation from eunwoo kissing your neck and pulling at your nips, you’re reaching your orgasm faster than anticipated

and suddenly they’re both off you

you: what the fuck?

you’re like gasping and glaring at the both of them and they just give you smug looks

bin: I don’t know if you deserve to cum just yet, y/n. right, eunwoo?

eunwoo chuckling as he nods and flicks at your nipple: binnie told me that you like talking back, hmmm that won’t work with both of us here y/n

your submissiveness kicking in and you’re whining: i won’t talk back, I promise

bin: I don’t know if I believe you y/n

and then they switch places and now bin’s making out with you again and eunwoo’s face to face with your cunt and he just shoves two fingers in your entrance and starts scissoring you

and right as you’re about to cum, they pull away again

this goes on at least two more times, you’re literally so frustrated tears are pooling in your eyes and you’re whining hard as hell, your wrists already aching from the ropes 

eunwoo: do you want us to untie you, y/n?

you nodding as you’re sniffling back the tears

aww they feel bad so eunwoo unties the ropes and he’s like gently rubbing at your wrists

bin wiping your tears away as he pinches at your cheek again

bin: you okay, y/n?

you: I’m so close, please

bin: alright baby, who do you want first, hm?

you honestly didn’t know, you had no preference, you just wanted to get railed

eunwoo: why not both?

your eyes go wide a little bit, your ass isn’t even prepped

bin sensing your hesitation and he just puts a hand on your waist: if you don’t want to--

you: no, i want to...I’m just...my ass isn’t ready...

eunwoo laughing cutely as he pats your thigh: we’ll prep you baby, don’t worry

you start by going on all fours, bin enters you first from behind and the groan he lets out bc you’re just so tight wow 

he literally has to restrain himself from just ramming into you, your walls just fit so snugly around him, his nails were digging into the skin of your waist

you open your mouth in a moan at the stretch and in that moment, eunwoo shoves his cock down your throat you literally gag

for reference, they’re both above average, no surprise there, I’d say both around 8 in., but bin’s girthier for sure

and so bin’s fucking your cunt while eunwoo’s fucking your mouth

simultaneously, eunwoo tugs at your hair and bin sneaks a finger down to gather some juices from your pussy before probing at your asshole

bin’s prepping you real well mmmmm

he’s literally fingering your ass while he’s pounding into you, the tip of his cock hitting so deep in your cervix

on the other hand you’re so focused on sucking eunwoo off, you take him as deep in your throat as you could, letting your jaw slack as he just thrusted in your mouth

and also the vibrations of your moans around his cock every time bin hits deep in you???

eunwoo swears he almost busts a nut when your hands reach up to play with his balls

he’s panting as he pulls your mouth off his cock: I need to be inside you before I cum

and then he’s lying down on his back and you start to ride eunwoo, and then bin lines his cock up at your other hole and you start to tense

eunwoo bringing you into a kiss to try and distract you from the pain your asshole’s about to feel

and you start hissing as bin starts to push in, you’re clenching so hard around eunwoo and tugging tightly at the ends of his hair

eunwoo starts making circles on your clit so that you could relax a bit to make it easier for bin to enter your back hole

and then the three of you just stay still for a bit when bin finally bottoms out, you’re still trying to get used to feeling stuffed full, you haven’t been fucked in so long and now you’re getting railed by two cocks??

the two of them are both saying sweet things to calm you down and distract you from the pain

and it’s cute, you know from your respective past hookup experiences with them that they’re really good at sensing discomfort or pain and would always tend to your needs

oof baby but as soon as you give the okay for both of them to move

it’s like you’re taken to another dimension holy shit

they both hit so deep, you swear to god their cocks have to be touching or something, or maybe at least reaching your intestines

when people say rearrange your guts, it definitely must have been this

you’re trying to set a pace on top of eunwoo, but bin thrusting from behind literally makes your knees go weak until eunwoo just lifts his hips and takes over, matching bin’s speed

and imagine this: bin pulling your hair, making your head tilt back and eunwoo just reaches up and covers your neck with his hand before he squeezes at your throat

your eyes are literally rolling into the back of your head, you have never felt this good ever in your life

your head’s spinning again, and you know all three of you are reaching the tipping point pretty soon, your stomach is churning, making you clench hard around both eunwoo and bin

eunwoo biting his lip as he groans, his grip tightening just a bit more around your neck

bin’s still yanking your hair back and he starts spanking your ass, he’s moaning as well

you literally scream, throat feeling raw, as you cum, you have never orgasmed so hard before, your body was convulsing around both of them and you just collapse on top of eunwoo

you’re vision literally sees white and your ears are ringing as they both cum in you

you black out for a little bit

eunwoo and bin: o_o holy fuck

the two of them start panicking like...did they just fuck you dead?? put you in a coma??

okay but just imagine eunwoo and bin bickering with each other about what to do like

bin: do we call 119???

eunwoo: what do we say? we fucked our friend into a coma?

it’s okay because you regain consciousness soon enough and both boys let out the biggest sigh of relief

you: ...what happened?

eunwoo: you passed out for a bit there y/n

you start giggling, much to their surprise, and you try to sit up

bin: ...are you okay y/n?

you: yeah, I can’t believe I blacked out because you guys fucked me so well, that’s pretty hot not gonna lie

eunwoo goes into the kitchen real quick to get you some water and bin sits down next to you

you thank eunwoo when he hands you the glass and he sits across from you and bin

the two roommates exchange a look and just high-five each other

you roll your eyes as they just laugh at each other...ugh boys

bin teasing you: I’ve never seen you so submissive y/n

eunwoo joining in: yeah, didn’t know you could squirt as well

you almost spit out the water: i-huh? no way

eunwoo: yeah, my stomach was soaked, I wiped it off when you were out

your face flushes, you’ve never squirted before

bin: don’t be embarrassed! it was hot, y/n, really

the three of you then just jump into a casual conversation about college, keep in mind you’re all still naked

and then you feel the cum just like in both your holes and it’s just uncomfortably sticky

you: uh...do you guys mind if I shower? my pussy feels gross right now

bin, with a glint in his eyes: I can clean that up for you, baby

before you know it, bin’s eating you out again -- to be more specific, he’s literally licking the mixture of yours and eunwoo’s cum from your cunt

that’s sexy...

you make eye contact with eunwoo and he’s just smirking as he sits back and watches you two, no intention on joining yet

alright but you had no idea if you could take another round right now, the first one literally made you pass out

so after bin makes you cum again, you tap out for the night

the three of you shower -- separately -- and then regroup in the living room to just chat and chill

the two insist you sleep over for the night since it’s past midnight by now

were there also hints of a round two in the morning?? maybe

you sleep in one of eunwoo’s shirts, but end up sleeping next to bin bc he’s whiny and likes cuddling

you three fuck again in the morning oops until eunwoo had to leave for work

then you and bin fuck again afterwards

happy threesome

happy comeback :)

4-5-21