#he was kinda stalkerish

[lena-after-dark]

thinkin about adding imhotep to the character roster

[d34d6eat]

been thinking about a pining Kizaru. him trying to get closer to someone he has a huge crush on. he knows it's kinda weird that you're so much younger than him but he can't help it. he figures out your schedule so he can sort of trail behind you. Kizaru keeps his shades on so he feels inconspicuous when peeking around corners to catch a glimpse of you. he might even strike up a conversation after "accidentally overhearing" you talk to a friend about a new interest. he can't stop thinking about you!!! your smiling face creeps into his mind while he's sitting at his desk. Kizaru gets distracted and starts doodling his and your initials in a heart on official paper work.

after a few weeks of constantly thinking of you, he goes out on a limb and decides to ask you out to dinner. surprisingly you accept, and after work you eat with him. he is absolutely ecstatic when you ask to head to his place after eating. the two of you spend hours talking over expensive white wine. you give him your number and ask him to promise to call you in the morning. he agrees with no hesitation, brushing his hand against yours.

as you both get up to leave, you pull him down by his loose tie and give him a kiss. he is shocked but he reciprocates it, wrapping an arm around your waist. the admiral deepens the kiss, practically fucking your throat with his skillful tongue. you pull away from him with a whimper, smoothing your shirt. you thank him for the wonderful evening and tell him to meet up with you when he gets to work if he's able to. after your shy departure Kizaru wastes no time heading to his bedroom. he recites your name as if it were a prayer, palming himself under his pants. oh he just can't wait to get his hands on you tomorrow morning.

i wrote way more than i intended to but i felt the need to conclude it on a bit of a spicy note with a win for Kizaru~~~ 💛✨

[w1lmutt]

Honestly that tpn joke manga had such weird ass way to flanderize the characters (especially Norman,,, that wasn’t parody, that was a crime against the Geneva convention)

I do find it funny that the choice they made for Ray was to make him the most sad sopping wet cat in the world

[kakusu-shipping]

2022 is the year of reviving long dead Self Inserts 12 year old me thought were so cool and normal

[enha-doodles]

SLYTHERIN GUYS - MOST-TO-LEAST LIKELY TO FALL IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT | ✧⁺。

Note : AHH I WAS SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS ONE , I got this as a request in my messages and loved it !! It's my first mtl so I hope y'all like it and if you guys do then I'll probably do more of these 🤭🤭 Also i ranked them first and the reasons are written down in the same order they are ranked :)

Pairing : (mattheo , Tom , theodore , Lorenzo , Draco) x reader

Warnings : cursing , a bit toxicity ? mention of killing in one part

Most likely ↑

Lorenzo

Theodore

Draco

Mattheo

Tom

Least likely ↓

。　　　　✧　　REASONS　　⁺　 　 　。 .

1. Okay starting with Lorenzo I just feel like he's a very fluffy , very poetic , knowledgeable guy (my bros a nerd🤓-) . He really understands and observes people , sometimes it can be a bit stalkerish but eh doesn't matter because it's not like he's one with good intentions , he's in slytherin for crying out loud ? But in the process of this if he sees you and you are exactly his type which is exactly like him then BAM!! You're his new obsession . He thinks he's very smart but he's just gullible in my opinion.

2. Theodore nott . Guy who is just as romantic as he is monotonous . I just feel like because he wasn't loved that much by his "family" he seeks it out where and offcourse he likes pretty girls . So if you're caring , outgoing and basically just pretty he'll fall in love with you very quickly . I also kinda feel like he's a bit naive in those things - like he's the type to date a girl he liked at first sight and if she's not good / cheats on him / acts like she's his mother - then he'd break up and become a manwhore . Still very much up on the list to do it again .

3. Draco seems like a lovesick puppy to me solely because he's never recieved any love properly except for his mother which doesn't really count but whatever. He'll probably fall in love at first sight if you're badass but that doesn't mean he'll admit it ? He'll bully you to get close to you then somewhere between just admit due to too much pressure and teasings from his friends . Don't expect him to apologise tho , i know we're all wise enough for that . And please don't be in gryffindor and dream about a malfoy , like seriously please .

4. Mattheo in my opinion is just a born manwhore so he's not most likely to fall in love at first sight . I just see him hooking up alot but then again there's a chance he might if you're different to him than other girls. But I also feel like he'll mistake his love as a challenge and just blow the whole thing out 😭😭 Plus point if you're a slytherin and you're flirty , that could definately grab his attention and make him fall in love with you and GOD FORBID if you also smoke then you'll probably be married to him .

5. You are either on weeds or highly delusional to even think this man is capable of falling in love . Or you've just read too many fanfictions lmao . Tom is super hardworking and overall a very work oriented person so i don't think he interacts with girls much ? Only to connections that can help him , so yeah he's the least likely one . Forget about frst sight , even a love potion won't make him fall in love . Also I feel like even if he DOES fall in love which would be impossible , but if he does then he'd either ice out the poor girl , kill her or force her to marry him . There's no in between "trying out" bullshit here .

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　 　 　。

TAGLIST : @sugarcandydoll @helendeath

[fruitmins]

Agust Dad—Three

➭ summary: Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party— one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry and change your fate forever.

➭genre: short series, pregnancy au, idol au, angst, dad au

➭warnings: none I think, just pure angst, Yoongi’s kinda stalkerish but that’s okay

<next part>

note: I don’t wanna drag this out but I don’t wanna make the chapters to long😭 anyways my life has been crazy lately and this story gives me life so THANK YOU SM for all of the support I love you ALL. Updated the tag list for whoever asked to be on it🫶🏽

Taglist: @welcometomyworld13 @tatyhend @jiminiesunicorn @littlestarstinyseven @baechugff @thelilbutifulthings @tearykth @familiarlikemymirror3 @coree730 @prajusstuff @wobblewobble822 @choisoorin @manuosorioh @0funsite0 @whipwhoops @bergandysam @aloverga @illnevertrustmyselfagain @silentreadersthings

You thought blocking him would fix the problem. Even though you both worked in the same building, you thought blocking him would make everything go away. You thought he would get a hint and let your breathe.

You actually woke up the next morning with a sense of relief – you’re done with Yoongi. He’s finally out of your life and won't be causing more drama and heartbreak.

Or so you thought.

A loud knock on your front door brings you back to harsh reality very quickly. You weren’t expecting anyone, and it's way too early in the day to be a package or delivery. No one made any prior plans to visit you.

In fact, you hadn’t really talked to anyone since the incident besides a couple family members. But they were way to far from Seoul to suddenly drive to your house.

You stumble to your front door, rubbing your eyes as you try to adjust to the light. You have your hand on the doorknob, prepared to open it as you take a small glance through the peephole.

Oh, it’s Yoongi.

It registers in your head and you quickly do a double take, leaning down more to get a better view.

Oh, it’s YOONGI.

He’s head is down as he looks at his phone, so you can’t get the clearest look at his features but you recognize the luxurious long black hair. You recognize the nice black blazer that he always seems to have on. You recognize his freakishly pale skin and his long fingers and veiny hands.

Min Yoongi is at your doorstep at six o clock in the morning.

You quickly swing your door open, causing his head to snap up from his phone as you stare at him with wide eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

You get deja vu as you whisper yell at him, afraid you’d alert the neighbors or some crazy fan would realize that Min Yoongi is on your doorstep.

You should be asking how he got your address and number, but your mind is too much of a mess to ask the right questions.

“Why can’t I come check up on you?” Yoongi frowns, irritated by your cold welcome and you stare at him like he is an alien.

Before you can answer his insane question, he speaks up again. “Wow this house is treacherous.” He mumbles as he glancing around your porch.

You shake your head, dismissing the sudden rude remark on your house. “Yoongi are you insane? You can’t come here like this.” You say in a quiet voice again, glancing around your neighborhood but nothing has changed.

“You blocked me.” Yoongi states, his tone making it sound like it was the most obvious thing in the world but his expression was still blank.

“Well I did it because I didn’t want to talk to you.” You state harshly, making it clear how crazy he looked by somehow finding your address and showing up anyways.

He just stands there, remaining unfazed by your outbursts, his gaze never wavering. Instead of saying something back, he simply pushes a piece of paper you hadn’t notice he had, towards you.

You give him a confused look as you take the paper before glancing down to look at it. Upon closer inspection your eyes catch certain words.

Your eyes widen as you realize what the piece of paper was.

You don’t know what you’re going to say, but as you glance back up at him you attempt to move your mouth anyways. He speaks again before you can say even anything. “Take the paternity test.”

You remain silent as you stare down at the paternity test in your hands, the silence between you growing more and more intense. "If the baby isn’t mine, you can block me and I’ll leave you alone. But if it’s mine, I want to be involved..”

For the first time every, you see a hint of emotion in his eyes. His blank expression softens, revealing a hint of who he might really be. “I want to be there.”

You don't say anything, but inside your heart's beating a mile a minute and your thoughts are spinning around your mind as you try to process everything. This moment feels far too surreal, like something out of a drama that only exists in fiction.

Of course you couldn’t believe his words. After everything you spilled to him yesterday, you couldn’t just hop back into his arms. You couldn’t just trust him again. You want to tell him off for showing up at your door like this in the first place.

But still, a faint flicker of hope springs inside you. A tiny voice whispers things in your ear that maybe things will be different. Maybe you won’t be alone. Just maybe you could trust him.

"Fine, I'll take the test." As soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel a pang of regret. You can’t deny him the right to know if it’s his, even if you knew that it was already biologically. He was the only man you’d slept with for almost a year.

Without giving him much time to process your words, you close the door breathing heavily as you tired to calm your thoughts. You try to focus on other things for the time being, but despite your efforts to think positively and be strong, a nagging feeling of dread never leaves you. You feel a heavy weight sink in your stomach as you worry about the future and your baby.

You retreat to your room, shutting the door behind you. You take the paternity test out, and after a moment of hesitation, you start taking it. You take a sample of your spit and see that Yoongi has already done the same.

You try to keep your mind blank while you do it, but as soon as you start collecting the sample, your brain is flooded with thoughts of Yoongi and your time together. The night, the sex, everything.

You can’t help but wonder how the you and Yoongi would look together, holding a little baby in your arms with him next to you. You can’t help but think about things as if it was another universe were you met on simpler terms.

Your thoughts quickly spiral into a fantasy, and by the time you finish taking the test, your cheeks are red.

You know it’s stupid but you can’t help but think about what’s going to come after the test gets back to you. It’s going to be proof that the baby is his and he claims to want to be involved.

That he wants to be there.

That he’s here now.

Your mind wanders back to the conversation you had in your office. How you told him over and over that he had abandoned you. And in response, here he was saying that he was here for you.

You don’t know how long you can believe him and you don’t know if the desire to care for the baby will go away.

But one things for certain is that the test will come back positive.

And you’ll no longer escape the reality of what awaits you.

Before you know it, Yoongi shows up to your house a couple days later but this time you actually invited him.

You know that you couldn’t tell him at the company cause you could be caught and it’s not something you should tell him through text, so you invited him to your house.

The doorbell rings and your eyes go to the clock above the door.

It's early, but not that early. With your heart racing, you head to the door and slowly it open to reveal... Yoongi.

You remain frozen for a moment before speaking, your throat dry.

He looks as handsome as ever, though he seems more cautious and serious than usual. He knows why he is here, and you know why he is here.

So you push back any thoughts that aren’t necessary and any memories that don’t need to be brought back. "Hello," you say simply, not knowing what else to say.

"Hello," he greets you, eyes skimming over your stomach, which isn’t yet visible but will be soon.

“Come in..” you say in a quiet voice turning away from him and going to the couch in the living room. Your heart starts racing as you begin to feel anxious about the conversation that lies ahead.

Yoongi enters your house, but the air is tense. The silence hangs so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

Eventually, he speaks up, his tone stiff.

"Did you get the results back?" he asks, his deep voice cuts through the silence.

Immediately your heartbeat goes up a notch, and you silently nod in response. “I did..” you mumble, swallowing hard as you pick up the paper off the table and slowly hand it to him, your heart thumping as you watch him closely.

A moment passes as he scans the paper in silence, taking his time and processing the implications.

Finally, he hands the paper back to you, his expression unreadable and the tension in the room as thick as ever.

There, it's all out in the open now, and there's no going back. You’ve officially connected yourself to Min Yoongi.

"So... it's true then."

Yoongi's words hang in the air, heavy.

You nod, your throat squeezed shut with anxiety and worry. Yoongi's gaze wanders across your face, his expression unreadable. His mind must be racing with thoughts of what to do next.

The silence stretches on forever before he finally speaks again. “We need to talk about this," he says calmly, and his tone is decisive.

You take a deep breath before speaking. “Well, I already told you I plan on raising it alone.” You state in a low voice, not making eye contact with him.

Yoongi exhales a shaky frustrated breath, his emotions taking the wheel once more. He takes a moment to collect himself before finding the right words. "And you think I'm just supposed to sit by and let that happen?" He challenges.

You blink, and for a moment, you can tell how serious he's being and you know you’re being stubborn but you can’t help but think of all the package Yoongi came with. His career, his fans, his schedule.

“It’ll just be easier for you and for me if you weren’t involved.” You state, with a heavy sigh. Yoongi's expression doesn't change, but his body language shifts. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, the tension in his stance palpable.

"Easier for you, maybe. But don’t you think the baby has a right to know who its father is?” He asks and the question catches you by the throat and makes it dry.

Your stomach is filled with guilt, because you know he has a point. You go quiet at the moment, suddenly feeling guilty Yoongi had a right to be involved and the baby had the right to have a father.

And if Yoongi has asked this question, then maybe he was being serious. Maybe he actually cared about the child.

“So, how much do you want to be involved in?” You ask, glancing up at him to see that his eyes narrow momentarily before he responds, but his tone gradually softens as he sees the guilt in your eyes.

"I want to know the baby," he says, the softness in his tone taking you by surprise. "I want to be there for everything, from the first doctor's visits to the first words. I want to be part of its life."

You notice that whenever he says "the baby", his eyes flick towards your stomach as he speaks, even though there’s not visual of the baby even being there.

“What about your career? What about the media?” You question, slightly worried how his fans will react, how his company will react. It wasn’t everyday an idol got some random woman knocked up.

Yoongi relaxes a little after you concede the point, no longer challenging you. "Don't worry about that," Yoongi says quickly, his voice full of determination.

"The media's always going to make a big fuss, but I'll handle it. I'll handle everything. You shouldn’t stress about anything, especially if it’s not your problem to worry about."

His words make your heart flutter, but you're not sure if it's happiness or anxiety. It was like when he looked at the paper, his whole demeanor changed. His whole mindset changed, and you don’t know if you should be excited or worried.

"Listen," he says softly, "I never dreamed that something like this would happen, but now that it has, I want to make sure this baby has the best life possible. I’m not going to take the easy way out, that’s not what a real man does.” He states and despite his tough exterior, Yoongi is determined to be a present father for your child-to-be.

It’s silent again, millions of thoughts and emotions racing through your mind. “Well, I have a seven week appointment, if you want to come..” You mumble in a quiet voice.

“I’ll be there.”

He says, way to quickly.

[s-4pphics]

tag, you're it! (e.w.)

ITS PRIDE MONTH PUSSSSSSYYYYYYY 

omg this is kindaaaa…. yeah

imma lil proud LOL hope y’all like it 

wc;cw: 14.2k, ceosdaughter!ellie, tagger/artist!oc, ANGST!!, mentions of depression and suicidal ideation, illness, parental death & brief mentions of funerals, descriptions of foster care/homeless shelters and poverty, both oc n ellie have daddy issues, MOMMY ISSUES!!, brief mentions of drug addiction(coke), homophobia DURING PRIDE MONTH🤨🤨, internalized homophobia and misogyny, ellie is a horny touch starved loser n kinda stalkerish?, mentions of criminal injustice(police, prisons, etc.) i hate it here, rich ppl being demons, SMUT!!!!! MDNI!!!!, light descriptions of masturbation, potential dubcon!!, sexual tension😟, bratty subbottom!ellie, mean domtop!oc she carries her dick on her like a glock lol, slight fearplay, KNIFE PLAY/BLOOD, DIRTY TALK, finger and strap sucking, fingering, pussy eating, MOMMY KINK!!, nipple play, squirting <333 n creaming <333, riding, reverse cowgirl, slapping(FACE!!! ass titties), hitting it from the bbbbback, loss of virginity, masochism LOL, a lil ass play LOL, pretty taboo themes catch it

“She’s… I genuinely believe she’s deranged, your honor! She’s… uncontrollable! Look at what she’s done to our city! Civilians can see her tracks everywhere they go, and it’s disgusting! Not to mention she’s a pervert!” 

You rolled your eyes as you listened to the high-pitched, ongoing shrieks of one of the wealthiest women in the state as she spat belittlements of you to the judge. 

You were… fucked. 

You adjusted in your uncomfortable chair, leaning back and crossing your arms over your chest, turning your head to eye your lawyer, arching a brow at him as you waited for his defenses for you. He looked… scared shitless, to say the least. 

Yeah. You were definitely going to fucking jail. 

Were these pieces of shit really going to treat you like Satan himself for pulling a measly, little prank? Has April Fools truly lost all meaning?

A couple of days ago, on April 1st, you took it upon yourself to spray paint ♡GIRLDICK♡ across the largest building in the city, which just so happened to be owned by the Miller family, if anyone even bothered to call their cultist bond that. Their wealth swiftly accumulated when the now deceased founder of the organization, Joel Miller, discovered some new form of AI technology… or whatever the elders at the shelter told you. His death shook your city years ago; You weren’t sure why it was so moving for people, but R.I.P, you guess. 

You assumed they were just another group of elitist fuckers, but he must’ve been decent at the most; You still remember his memorial broadcasting on the small TV at the shelter as the other residents mourned in solace. 

Regardless, you hope all their institutions across the nation collapse one day, preferably with the rest of them inside. 

The broad in the black, silk suit kept pointing her finger at you, and it took everything in your spirit to not get up out of your seat and rip it clean off her hand and shove it down her throat. 

Not every tag you’ve done around the city has been rooted in “perversion”. There’s nothing perverse about… loving girldick. It’s a way of life!

Fuck security cameras. 

Unbeknownst to them, you’ve already been coined as a hidden talent in the city, at least according to some people you know at the shelter. You’re faceless in the eye of the public, but that separation doesn’t negate their appreciation for your artwork. You even went viral for the mural you painted of your father for his birthday two years ago, even though the fucker that posted it on Instagram hadn’t included your signature. You could bet millions of people have seen it by now, and you gained absolutely nothing from it. 

But, of course, your form of creative expression was being reduced to a jizzing penis. You've created countless mosaics around the city that represent the purest forms of love and sex, and now you are being blasted for being some sort of corrupt sicko. You only drew what came natural to you, and if people felt a way about it, they could choke on the fattest girldick known to humanity. You hate rich people.

Your father didn’t sacrifice everything he had to teach you the complexities of sketching for your name to be attached to outlines of dicks. You didn’t grow up watching your father skip meals so he could get you a new water paint set for your birthday every year for your art to be lawfully ridiculed. The only comfort this situation brought was that you knew he would’ve found the sloppily drawn cock hysterical. You still remember his laugh after all this time. 

You miss him dearly. You probably could’ve been just as rich, if not more, as the bitch at the other table if he was still here with you. He would’ve ensured you didn’t stray off into the life you live now. 

Being in foster care was the dissipation of your joy. You were considered a problem child very early on: fighting the caretakers when they tried to calm you, cursing at them, stealing, and nobody wanted to adopt you because of that, regardless of your talents. You were set up to fail too early, and you despised the world because of it. 

Your record was horrendous, and you were going to jail. You fucking hate rich people.

… Except the Miller's eldest daughter. She gets a pass. 

And she keeps staring at you. 

Every time you caught her sparkly eyes, she blushed and looked forward, her freckles surrounded by a deep red that rushed down her neck. She was dressed much less… sophisticated than her mother: her hair tied back in a low bun and littered with black bobby-pins, a dark-blue sweater, rings on her thumb, black pants, and clean Vanz. 

You knew a lesbian when you saw one. You could barely hide your knowing smirk. 

“My child doesn’t need to be exposed to such… nauseating ideologies! Think of the children of the city and what they’re forced to see because of vile people like that,” she pointed at you again. You were this fucking close to stabbing her with that pen in front of you. 

Your daughter’s gay, Mrs. Miller. 

“With all due respect, ma’am,” the judge started. What kind of backwards shit was this; Wasn’t she supposed to be respecting him? “It’s important that we stay on track. You’re specifically suing her for vandalism— “

“Ongoing, unchecked vandalism! This is not her first charge, your honor, it’s her seventh! She’s… she’s— “

You tried to tune her out, looking around the congested space of the courtroom, and you caught eyes—shiny, green eyes— on you. Again. 

She was fiddling with her hands in her lap, her teeth picking at the dry skin on her bottom lip. But she didn’t look away this time. You watched her eyes trail over your face, down to your jaw, your neck, your chest, only to come back up to your eyes. 

You did the same, taking in the dots on her soft cheeks, her eyes, her pretty nose, and mouth, looking her up and down, biting your lip, letting her know you were gauging her. She was cute, you had to admit. 

“—sentenced to three years in federal prison— “

You looked up in shock, feeling like your body had been dunked into a tub of ice water and left to die, instantly stiffening at the announcement of your sentence, the sound of the slamming gavel nearly putting you six feet under. 

You couldn’t do anything but stare at the judge in disbelief as he organized his papers emotionlessly, your lawyer putting his hand on your shoulder. You knocked it off and glared at him. You looked over to the table, the family already up and taking their leave, Mrs. Miller’s hand tightly enclosed around her daughter’s wrist as she dragged her out the wooden doors.

Two security guards were already walking towards you with cuffs, gripping your arms too roughly to pull you up out of your seat and latching the metal around your skin. You started to panic as they walked you towards another set of doors.

“Wait, wait, my backpack, I need my— “

“You aren’t allowed to have anything on you. Your property will be held by the court until further notice.” 

“But— “

“No buts, and don’t resist,” you felt the security grip your arm harder, and your anxiety peaked, your panting breaths hardly leaving your body.

You didn’t resist. You couldn’t. Your life was shattering around you in slow motion, loose shards slicing through you with intent to kill. 

You allowed the brawly men to drag you… anywhere. You didn’t care anymore; You were tired, and no longer had the urge to fight left in your heart. 

Ellie was brought up in isolation. 

Homeschooled, no friends, no purpose outside of being the vessel to represent her family name, creating the next line of heirs for her father’s company. 

The benefits of his successes had simply… appeared when she was fifteen. 

She remembered how he went from being present, gave her the utmost attention, played sports with her, taught her how to sing and self-defense with his past down switchblade, to not, completely cut off from society as he barricaded himself in his study and worked relentlessly on new forms of technology. Being an only child brought nothing but loneliness for her after a while. 

But then they were rich. They moved to an affluent neighborhood and into a two-story house in a matter of months, driving Porches and buying out stores. Wealth appeared, but the relationship with her family suffered because of it. 

Her father fell ill, and after a multitude of hospital visits, teary farewells, and a memorial, he was gone. Merely a memory that hardly seemed real. Her and her mother’s relationship became even more unsteady after his passing. 

Ellie’s mother swiftly took over the company in an almost authoritarian way. She interacted with society in a robotic, rehearsed manner. Mechanical, soulless, the only proof of her humanity exposing itself when she snorted white powder. 

Her mother had brought up the idea of marriage the second she turned eighteen, a year before her father’s passing, saying that there were multiple well-off men that were eager to be with her, willing to give her children. Multiple. 

Men…. children… having children with men. Money. The empire. Her mother.

It all made her nauseous. 

… But art didn’t. 

She’d always kept her journals secret. Left in a box on the highest shelf of her walk-in closet where the maids couldn’t find them.

She expressed everything that she couldn’t to her mother on paper. Her depression, her insomnia, her desire for death, her mourning, the need for sex with non-men, any form of physical connection, something—anything that made her feel human, normal.

She needed a fucking hug. A kiss. Sex. She wanted to fuck.

The first time she saw your artwork on an abandoned building as she chauffeured to the museum, she’d nearly fainted. 

It’d been two women on top of each other, the most intimate parts of their body covered with the other’s hands and skin. One had her head between the other’s legs atop blankets and flowers as the other… apparently in the middle of an orgasm. Her mother always made the point of sex sound so… stiff. Lifeless. Merely a factor of procreation.

But your art was so erotic. Sensual. So full of pleasure and softness and care. 

She’d almost jumped out of the car and onto oncoming traffic to get a closer look at every detail, but the car was too quick. She couldn’t even get a fucking picture. 

And she was soaking. How the fuck was she going to explore a museum when she was dripping like this?! 

You’d given her one of the strongest orgasms she’d ever had in her life when she returned home that day, and she didn’t even know who you were. She’d spent hours with her hand between her legs as she thought of your creation while her mother was out working, moaning and crying out as loud as she wanted, and she wasn’t even embarrassed. 

She would sneak out in the darkest clothes she had when her mother passed out on the couch, and just walk. Specifically in search for anything with your signature that she’d memorized like it was her own. She’d taken pictures of your content, memorized them, got off to the suggestive ones in secret, and appreciated your love and passion for your craft. 

She’d even started recreating her own depictions of eroticism. All with women. They never looked the same: different heights, all skin tones and body types, anything that she could think of, she drew it. She’d tried to envision what you looked like after only a few weeks, and she prayed her envisions were at least somewhat accurate. 

She never could draw self-portraits with precision, but she knew it was her. She was always in the middle of the raunchiness that she conjured up in her mind, being touched everywhere, tied up, beaten, completely ripped apart and forced to forget the suffocating world around her. Her reimagining's of herself would be drowned in pleasure, sometimes by you, by herself, by faceless strangers. Anything she wanted. 

When she saw you for the first time, she almost couldn’t control herself. 

She’d felt like a fucking creep as she ducked behind parked cars to watch you paint all over an abandoned freight train behind a trashed building. The streets had been silent as she watched you decorate the metal cart in floral interpretations of pussy, her heart in her throat. 

You looked gorgeous and focused and tired. So, so tired, only in sweats and a tank top with a hefty bag strapped to your back. She assumed you kept your art supplies in there.

Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes off you when she’d seen you during your court hearing. 

You were just as gorgeous as the first time she saw you, but, somehow, even more exhausted. Far away, not really present, but she couldn’t blame you. And she couldn’t stop staring, enthralled by you. Even in your grayest moments, you made her feel vibrant. And that brought her guilt.

But it also made her lustful. Hungry. 

And she couldn’t stop staring. 

When her mother dragged her out of the hearing, she was enraged, even more so when she degraded you on the way back to the car. 

You fucking stared at that whore the whole time!

Don’t ever, in your life, embarrass me again. 

I’ll throw you in the gutter with that rat if you ever disrespect me like you just did in there. Do you understand?

Ellie didn’t even know what she did to garner a response this aggressive, but she was used to it. And, for the first time in her life, she didn’t care. She didn’t give a fuck. 

At that moment, she knew what she had to do.

It was your fifth day in prison, and you felt nothing. 

You didn’t cry, you didn’t plead, you simply succumbed to your destiny in silence. Your father would be so disappointed if he were alive. 

I raised a fighter, so you fucking fight!

But you couldn’t. You were tired, and you wished you could stay asleep, never to wake up again.

You’ve been working like a dog since you got here, and you accepted it. This was your life, and you felt nothing. 

Until your cell unlocked. These fuckers were probably here to shit talk you again. 

They cuffed your wrists and led you somewhere. You didn’t care where, keeping your head down as they encased your arms in a calloused grasp. You hoped this location would be your last forever. 

They led you into an empty room and uncuffed you. You saw the old sweatsuit that you’d received from the shelter, and your heartbeat sped up. You looked at the security in confusion. What the fuck were they doing? What were they about to do?

You could barely hear what the officers were saying, jumbled words of bail bond and cash payments molding together and sounding like a foreign language to you. They undid your handcuffs and pointed towards the clothes, murmuring for you to change so they could transport you back to the courthouse to retrieve your belongings. 

What the fuck is going on?

When you returned to the shelter, you inspected your bag. After nearly scrubbing your skin off while showering. 

The contents were all in their original condition, each individual item wrapped in plastic with small notes attached to them. Except for your dick. You assumed the court had no comments. 

Your paint, your brushes, random hairpins, your notebooks. They were all there in their original condition. Thank god. 

What you didn’t expect to see was a new jacket, sweatsuit, and small note wrapped in the same plastic from inspection. 

You ripped the plastic open and retrieved the note, unfolding it and… confusion, arousal, and fear rushed through you, shocking your body as all your feelings shot down your spine. 

It was a sketch of… you. And a girl bent over with her hands bound behind her back as you fucked her. An… incredibly familiar looking girl. 

A freckled girl. A rosy-cheeked girl. The rosy-cheeked girl from a week ago with the psychotic, sadistic mother.

Her expression in the sketch was pure ecstasy. It looked like she was screaming, her cheeks shaded dark with water-paint and her hair a reddish-brown, thrown in all sorts of directions. Her eyes wild and erotic. Yearning. Teary. Her pleasure seemed dream-like.

And you looked just as gone. Head tossed back, sweaty with your dick shoved inside her pussy, your nails digging into the soft skin on her hips, small, but deep, bloody scratches following the painful glide of your fingertips that make the red blotches on her backside. There were small doodles of strap-ons and pussies smudged, erased, fixed to perfection that seemed almost manic. Obsessive. 

You looked at the bottom of the crumpled piece of paper, a small signature across the bottom of it. 

♡GIRLDICK♡

Come back home. Five days.

E.M.

… Come back home? You don’t have a fucking home. And who the fuck is E.M? Your heart was beating against your chest, climbing up your throat in an attempt to escape your body entirely. You couldn’t stop your eyes from flying across the sloppy penmanship. 

… ♡GIRLDICK♡

E.M.

M. 

♡GIRLDICK♡

M.

… Miller Enterprise. 

Miller. 

… Freckles. 

…. What in the fuck. 

It was almost dark, and you were shivering as the wind blew past you. 

It had been five days. 

You were eyeing the large building in front of you from across the street, a giant M slapped across the top of it, windows galore, hoodie on your head and trembling hands shoved in your pockets. 

You could see the last bit of employees trickling out of the building, clad in suits and tight pencil skirts, heavy briefcases and clicking heels. 

You could also see the fresh white and black paint covering where your spray-painted dick used to be, and it made you chuckle to yourself. You were almost tempted to recreate it with your new snagged bottle of acrylic. It supposedly glowed in the dark. 

But then you saw a dark shadow in the corner of your eye, hurriedly moving past the glass of the entrance. 

Your heart raced instantly at the thought of being discovered, and you followed the body's movement. You could see it was Ellie the closer she got to the glass, dressed in a black sweater and comfortable pants, and her same shoes from the court hearing. She looked antsy, a bit on edge, but curious. She was anticipating seeing you. 

You could see her messing with the keypad on the door, the loud sounds of locks clicking over the bustling streets. Flashes of red, swiftly replaced with flashes of green shined through the maxi-glass, and she looked around at all the doors. What was she checking for?

She seemed satisfied with her job, and she slid the entry door open, leaving it slightly ajar so she could slip something between it. 

She gave one last glance at the system before bolting back inside and down the lengthy hallway before all the hall lights shut off. 

Did she… did she just disable all the alarms for you? 

Now, you were the one anticipating meeting her. 

You ran across the street the second you got a chance, hurdling through traffic before running up onto the sidewalk and treading the stairs. 

You looked down and noticed two pens taped together, holding the door open. You picked them up and inspected them, a glossy, silver M near the gel tip. 

You stepped inside before anyone noticed, the door automatically shutting behind you before the same green lights came on, a robotic voice confirming that the doors were locked.

You were inside the Miller Enterprise, and you were terrified.

Ellie was so nervous. 

She’d been checking her Chanel watch all day, obsessively monitoring the windows to see if anyone that resembled your form had arrived, but she was disappointed every time she looked. No sign of you, yet.

The later it got, the more anxious she became. Did you see the note she left in your bag? Was it too forward? Did you think she was fucking crazy? Did you hate her for what her mother did? She prayed not. 

She was currently pacing around her mother’s—father’s—dark office, every step of her shoes echoing in the nearly empty room. She hasn’t been in here since she was seventeen, and it brought just as much anxiety as it did the first time. 

This will all be yours when I’m gone, don’t fucking ruin it. 

She hated everything about this space. Every aspect of her dad was completely gone. All his pictures, his vinyl, his pens and pencils, his nameplate. Everything. All of it, completely void of emotion. 

She hated it, she hated it. 

But then she heard a clang in the hallway, and her anxiety picked up even more before she could process it. 

She quickly made her way over to the exit, peeking her head through the doorframe and examining the hallway, searching for you. The noise had to be you! You really came! She could feel her nipples getting hard already.

But she saw no one. No one was in the dark hallway. 

… Fuck.

Why did she shut the system off? The lights wouldn’t come on!

Her hands instantly got clammy, her heart racing, and her knees shook. She hadn't felt like this since she was a kid, and she was horrified.

Someone’s here to hurt you, someone’s going to come in and hurt you!

You never leave doors unlocked! He always said to lock your doors, never, never, never—

She couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from taking over her entire body, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her father’s switchblade, pressing its latch down to expose the blade. She slammed the door shut and walked over to the large window and tried to steady her breathing. She looked out of the glass and inhaled harshly. 

Keep your grip tight when you strike! 

Calm down calm down calm down—

“Boo.” 

You saw Ellie jump with a hard gasp before spinning to face you, a fearful look on her face and her switchblade in hand, pointed edge towards you. 

You could see her chest rise up and down with every shaky breath she took, her body trembling and cheeks flushed. You felt like your body was going to burst into flames, but you hid it, grinning slyly at her as you stepped forward. 

Deep breath. 

“Hi, Ellie.”

Another step forward. She took two back, nearly pressed against the glass. 

“Y-You,” she stuttered as her eyes darted around nervously, and you could see her cheeks flushing in the darkness, “How’d you get in here?” 

“I think you know how.” 

You shrugged, the contents of your bag shuffling on your back. You pointed towards the large, stretched windows behind her that oversaw the entire city, the hustling streets and lights beaming into the dimly lit room from the last bits of sunset. 

“View’s incredible,” your mockery littered in sarcasm. Don’t let her know you’re scared. 

She took a bold step forward as her brows furrowed, anger twisting on her doll-like face. You took two, as well. You saw her eyes dart to your feet before meeting your gaze to hiss at you.

“There’re cameras on every floor of this fucking building! I press that button,” She darted her small knife towards the enclosed, red button on the side of the wall, a large print of EMERGENCIES ONLY directly above it. “And every cop in this city’ll show up and take your ass back to the fucking gutter where you’re supposed to be.” 

… How the fuck was she going to threaten you when she told you to come here?! What was she playing at?

She pointed her weapon back at you. You ignored your confusion and raised an impressed brow before walking forward without pause, pulling her mother’s chair out from under the desk, the wheels squeaking against the marbled tile. You saw the grip she had on her knife tighten. 

You smiled at her. “You’re pretty good with a knife, honey.” 

“Fuck you. Don’t fucking call me that.”

“I dunno,” you scoffed, twirling on your heels as you took in the luxurious space around you. “I can bet my bottom ass dollar that you like it.” 

Her glare hardened, and your smile brightened. You finally moved to sit in the chair, the plush leather molding against your body and stuffed backpack. You scooted back under the desk and rested your elbows on the hand-carved rosewood, completely calm. At least outwardly. Your insides were jittery from adrenaline. 

You quickly inspected the contents of the desk: her mother’s matching rosewood nameplate, some loose paperwork with large sums of money scattered on them, dark pens and markers, and a signed restraining order. With your name on it. 

You’re apparently not allowed a hundred feet within the perimeter of the building. 

… Funny. 

“Press it.” 

Her scowl hardened, “What?” 

You pointed a lax finger towards the button as you looked up from the document, “I said press it. You want me gone so bad, right?” 

She didn’t reply, her fingers fidgeting around the knife as she adjusted her grip. Her eyes nervously flitted across the room, all over the white floors, back on you. 

“You’re not gonna press the fucking button.” You spat with a devilish smile. “And I know why.” 

“Fuck you, you don’t know sh— “

“You paid my bail.” 

You heard her release a shaky exhale when you sliced through her words, her eyes widening in shock like she saw through you, and you knew you had her. Your smile widened as your nails pattered where you tapped on the desk. 

“Uh huh. Why’d you do it?” 

Her throat moved as she swallowed, and you almost laughed. 

You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out the piece of paper that kept you company in your small cot during your restless nights, unfolding it and holding up the explicit depiction that she left in your bag days ago. You pressed her as you swung the chair with your foot, “Think somebody’s got a little crush. Mommy’s gonna be so upset with you.” 

“FUCK YOU!” She marched towards you until she was in front of the desk, her scent enclosing around you before you felt the incredibly sharp blade against the side of your neck, and you stiffened in terror. You looked at her in shock, studying her expression. She looked pissed, but you saw… something in her eyes that made your core squeeze tight. 

It was vulgar, needy, and you hoped she missed your body’s excited shudder at her crude rage. 

She didn’t. Curiosity shone behind her lust and fiery, her enraged shrieks shook your eardrums. 

“You’re fucking worthless! You really think anyone’s gonna care about you rotting in a fucking cell?! You’re… you’re nothing! You’re a low life! You’re… you’re! —“

You deadened your own eyes as you slowly moved to stand, but she pressed the knife deeper into your skin as she leaned over the desk, your faces closer together. You stiffened and felt a sting on your skin, and a drop of wetness. Your pussy squeezed, and you could feel sweat looking under your jacket. 

“Gonna kill me, Ellie?” You glared at her, your heart pounding with fear and exhilaration. 

Say you want me. Say it, sayitsayitsayit!

Her eyes were vengeful as she scanned your face, but you saw that glint grow behind the harsh overcast. Something you craved just as badly as she did. 

“Really want mommy to see her precious girl killing somebody on camera? Hm?” 

“She,” her breath shuddered. “wouldn’t give a fuck if it were you, I promise.” 

You barely whispered your reply as you leaned even closer, your nipples hardening under your sports bra and your underwear clinging to your wetness. 

“Then do it.”

The heavy breaths she released hit your face in a burning wind, and your core tightened once more. You could see the aggression on her face slowly dissipate, that giddy sparkle in her eye overtaking her pupils as they darkened. 

You felt the cold steel pull away from you slowly, her hand coming down on the desk, — unfortunate— and it threw you into action.

Your hand flew up to her throat and squeezed the sides, and you heard the clatter of the object as it hit the wood. You heard her suck in a choked breath as her eyes glossed over, suddenly desperate and wanton and scared like you’d been seconds before. She looked like a neglected kitten, and it made you hold her neck in tighter constriction. 

She whimpered aloud as she attempted to gasp, her hand coming up to grab your wrist, but you snatched it away with your free hand, and it limply dropped to the desk, her body submitting. 

You leaned in closer to her, and her eyes squeezed shut, lips puckered, silently begging for you to kiss her. You snickered. 

You let her neck go and slammed your palm across her blushing cheek, a loud crack! filling the room. 

She cried aloud, looking like she was about to burst into tears as she jumped off the desk and backed away from you, her hand pressed against her searing cheek. You rose to your feet and circled around the desk, rushing towards her until she was pressed up against the window. Tears were running down her face. You shoved her closer against the glass, grabbing her cheeks to force her to look at you. 

“You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? I got a little fan, is that it?” 

“N-No— “

“Yeah, I do. Fuckin’ stalker. Probably gotta whole shrine t’me in your fucking room. Does mommy know that you worship me? The lowlife who fucked up her building?” You snapped at her.

She flinched at your tone before she choked out a gasped sob, “I j-just liked what you m-made.”

“Stop crying, Ellie.”

She nodded as she sniffled, wiping the tears off her cheeks. You grasp loosened on her cheeks as you cupped her face, your thumb brushing away the wetness on her already bruising skin. You noticed how she leaned into your caress. It made your heart jolt.

“Look at me,” you whispered. 

She hesitantly met your eyes. 

“You wanna kiss me?”

She looked down at her shuffling feet, and you saw her fist clench. 

“Answer me.” 

“Y-Yes, wanna kiss. Just… just one?”

You hummed in satisfaction, inching closer towards her like you did previously. She stiffened but shut her eyes tightly, her plush lips poking out in a pucker once more as your noses touched. You chuckled and whispered, your lips brushing against hers as you spoke. 

“You ever kissed anyone, baby?”

She sighed out an uneven nuh uh, her mouth chasing yours. You grinned wider.

“Oh? M’gonna be your first kiss?” 

She whined out a needy uh huuuh! 

You stuck your tongue out, slowly running the wet muscle over her lower lip, and you felt her whole body tremble against yours. She brainlessly stuck her tongue out to lick yours, but you pulled back. She tried to follow you, but you yanked her head back by the small bun at the back of her head, the soft strands curling around your fist. 

She let out a moan, and your tongue licked up her exposed throat, leaving a trail of spit up her chin, all the way to her mouth. 

You relented and connected your mouths, and she let out a shocked noise into your mouth. You slipped your tongue in her gaping mouth, wet, smacking noises filling the room as you kissed her hotly. She couldn’t keep up with your quick movements, her lips and tongue moving sloppily against yours. Her spit was all over the outside of your mouth. 

You felt her hands come up to your hips to grip your jacket in a tight fist as she moaned into your mouth. 

The noises she let out were so sweet: little, excited gasps and whiny keens as she tried to pull you closer. 

You released her hair and grabbed her chin to move her head to the side. You kissed down her neck, and she jerked against you. Her breaths increased in pace as you pecked her sweaty skin, lapping your tongue all over the side.

You sucked into the skin under her ear, right under her jaw, pulling her sweater down to mark her collarbone. 

“Pleeease, pleaseplease, ah— “

You mumbled in between gentle sucks, “What, Ellie? Talk.” 

You felt her hands grab your hips tighter, but she said nothing. You pushed her hands off you roughly and looked at her with piercing eyes. She shrunk into herself when she met them. 

“When I tell you to do something, you do it. You understand?” 

She nodded quickly. 

“So fucking talk,” you gritted out. 

“Want,” she whispered with a sharp gasp. “Want you.” 

You smirked, “You want me?”

“Mmhm!”

You shoved your backpack off your shoulders, the thud echoing when it hit the floor. 

“Want me to do what?”

She paused before looking down at her feet again, twiddling and picking at her fingers as her face burned red. 

“Um…” 

You rolled your eyes and turned away from her, but you felt her hand grab your wrist and you stopped. You looked at her in annoyance. 

She looked at you tentatively, her breathing shaky. 

But then she slowly brought your hand in between her legs. 

She shivered as she placed her hand on top of yours, making you rub her cunt back and forth. She released pleased sighs as her lashes fluttered, her head falling back against the window as she looked at you up and down. 

“P-Please?” She licked her lips. “Wan’you here.”

You scoffed in shock, and her thighs squeezed down on both your hands. You pressed your palm closer against her, and her hips bucked into you. 

You moved closer to her, your clothed chests pressed together. 

“Move your hand,” you spoke quietly, just for her to hear even though you were alone.

She dropped it limply. You pressed your palm into her covered clit, and she moaned. 

You leaned in, your lips brushing her cheek as you spoke.

“Baby just wanted her pussy touched? That’s why you acted out earlier?”

She didn’t speak as she panted heavily. You brought your hand up to slap her cheek again, and she released a pained cry as her hips twitched. 

“Talk!”

“Yes! Needa… need t’be touched!”

“Tell me where.” You brought your hand back down to her pussy as fresh tears slid down her cheeks. 

She sobbed. “A-Anywhere!”

You leered at her soft face. “Yeah? I get t’choose?” 

She nodded quickly, her eyes screaming touch me, please! Make me cum!

“Open your mouth, honey. Stick your tongue out.”

She mewled softly, but did what you asked, her shiny, pink muscle glistening under the beaming city lights. 

You brought your hand up, rubbing your index and middle finger on her soft tongue. 

“Get ‘em wet.”

She hummed as she sucked them into her mouth with no hesitation. You felt her tongue messily swirl around your digits as she sighed contently, and you pressed an encouraging peck on her cheek. 

You slowly fucked your fingers in, pulling them out, only to push them back in again. You almost awwed aloud when she chased your digits every time you pulled out. She was already drooling for them. 

You pressed her tongue down as you fucked in, and she gagged on them. Her eyes shot open and they instantly watered, her throat tightening around you. 

“Bet you suck a mean dick,” you muttered before you could stop yourself. 

She moaned loudly as you fucked deeper into her mouth, pressing down on the back of her tongue. 

“Oh, yeah? Want mine down that pretty throat?”

She garbled and nodded as much as she could with your fast thrusts in her mouth. You couldn’t wait to fuck it open. 

“Snooped through my shit, didn’t you? Saw my fucking cock and creamed yourself? That’s why you bought me new shit?”

You saw her bring a hand down to touch her pussy, her hips bucking into her own hand, chasing any stimulation. You grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from her. 

You finally eased up on her throat and pulled out completely, lines of slobber connecting your fingers and her mouth together. You cut them with your own tongue, her spit clinging to the edges of your mouth. 

You planted a smacking kiss on her lips before you shoved your hand down her dark, flared pants and into her boxers. 

She squealed when you immediately found her clit with your spit covered fingers, the slippery bud sliding between your already drippy fingers. You watched her hand fly to the white windowsill for balance as your hand went wild on her cunt. 

“Such a wet fucking pussy. Feels good, baby?”

Her brows creased as she nodded, her body rocking with your movements. “A-Ah! —“ 

“Uh huh. You touch yourself like this when mommy’s at work? Hm?”

Her head shamefully jerked in confirmation. You could see her now: her pretty legs spread on her plush bed, her sopping pussy squeezing at the thought of you fucking her just how she needed. She’d be grabbing at her tits as she flicked her clit, desperate to cum all over her blankets for you. Your pussy was so wet. 

“You think about me when you do it?” You knew the answer, but you needed her to say it. Confirm that she thought about you just as much as you thought about her. 

“Yes! Yes, yes!”

“Fucking whore, no wonder she hates your guts.”

She moaned louder at your degradation. “S’c—coming! “

Your fingers were practically vibrating on her cunt, her clit thumping as her orgasm built. “Get my fingers nice’n sloppy, angel, c’mon— “

She reached down to grab your wrist as she jumped on your fingers, but before you could slap her, her body tensed, and her eyes rolled into her skull. You felt her clit pulsate under your touch, and you knew she was cumming.

“Fuckmemommy!”

You couldn’t stop the shock that appeared on your face as you watched her thrash on your hand, gasping out, asking you to please fuck me, mommy! Need you to fuck me!

You just massaged her through it, pressing your hips up against hers so she couldn’t run from your touch. 

“Wan’mommy to fuck you, angel?” you mumbled in your daze as your pussy dripped, your brain barely registering what you just said.

“Yespleasepleaseplease, gimme— “

“Fuck, baby, need mommy inside you?” Your heart was pounding in your ears. 

“M-Mhhm!—“

“Gimme your leg,” You lifted it up with your free hand, bringing it up so it came around your waist.

You slid your fingers down to her twitchy entrance and slipped the tip of your pointer finger inside. You almost moaned at how her walls clung to you, sucking you in deeper, milking you.

“Tightest fuckin’ pussy,” you mumbled to her, and she whimpered when your finger arched inside her. You prodded around until she slumped against you, pushing her hips down on your finger. You leaned in, your lips brushing her ear as you cooed right there? yeah? feels fuckin’ good?

She couldn’t even speak. She just plopped her head onto your shoulder and sloppily kissed your neck. Your cunt clenched and you flinched when her soft tongue licked into the small slit she made earlier. You heard her hum as her tongue swiped a line from your collarbone to your cut; She was licking your blood up like a fucking dog!

It made you punch that spot in her harder, and she cried out against your skin, her nails digging into your forearm. 

You slowly pushed your middle finger in, and she sobbed as she stretched around you. You arched your thumb out to rub her clit as you poked that spongy spot in her pussy; She was so loud for you. 

“Like when I touch you there?” 

“I like it, like it s’much!” You felt her nodding mindlessly against you.

“Gonna cum on me again?” you spat at her. 

“Fuck yes!” 

“Know you’re gonna cum hard, can’t even fuck you like I wanna, squeezing me so tight.”

You dug your fingers as deep and fast into her as her cunt would allow. Her walls were choking the fuck out of you, practically screaming for them to stay where you were pressed inside her. How the fuck was she going to take you fully?!

The thought of breaking her open made you shake, “Gonna make this pussy take me. Can’t wait t’give you this fucking dick.”

Then she started screaming out for you, trying to get you closer, wrapping her arms around you, her leg dropping onto the floor. “Ohgodohgodohgod, m’cumming, mommy, I’mcu—AH!”

You almost fell back when she went limp on you, her knees buckling as her slick coated your fingers, your palm, her panties. You used your weight to push her back against the window, her head thudding against the glass like before, but she seemed too engulfed in her desire to care. You almost brought your hand up to comfort her sore spot, anyway, but you stopped yourself. 

You took her in: practically dangling off you as she wailed from orgasm, her face beat red, the bun at the back of her head almost loose, her eyelids fluttering. You sneered at her, a nasty grin on your face. 

“Atta girl, so excited for cock, ain’t she?”

She could only grind out yesyesyes between her teeth, her fingers still squeezing down on you as you rubbed her clit, her orgasm slowing down. 

“You gotta make me cum first, m’kay?” 

“W’na make… mommy cum!” she nodded like a bobblehead as she slurred. 

“Yeah? Want mommy’s cum in your mouth?”

She wept desperately, “Yes, please, need it!”

You grinned, catching a glimpse of your desperate reflection in the mirror. You’re so glad she was too fucked out to notice.

“C’mon, honey.” 

Ellie stood in front of you as you sat in her mother’s chair, her shoes kicked off. 

Your bag was tossed next to you as you stared at her, noting her fidgeting stance. She wasn’t looking at you, at all. She was looking down, specifically at your occupied hands. 

You’d picked up her discarded knife from the table, inspecting its rusty, scratched design, slightly bloody blade, retraction. You couldn’t stop fiddling with it. 

“W-What’re gonna do with that?” You heard her ask. 

You ignored it. “Where’d you get it?”

“It was my dad’s.” Her voice went sharp. 

“What kinda father lets his baby play with such sharp objects?” You said in between sarcastic snickers. 

“He’s fucking dead, who cares.” 

You finally looked up at her sharp tone, examining her tense face, and your playful smile slowly dropped. She tried to appear as if mentioning it didn’t bother her, but you recognized that look in her eye from anywhere. Grief fucking sucks, no matter how much time passed.

“… Hm.” 

You looked down at the blade again, then back up at her, “He taught you how to… handle it?” 

She shrugged, her brows raising as her arms crossed over her chest. You nodded. 

Your arm was suddenly incredibly itchy. “Mine taught me how to… draw n’stuff.” 

You looked off to the side awkwardly as you reminisced on the first pack of colored pencils he’d bought you. You remembered how particular he was about the art utensils and their conditions. You didn’t realize that he was trying to ensure their quality because he couldn’t afford another pack until you got older.

Always make sure these bastards are sharpened! That’s true precision!

“… Cool,” you heard her say, and you looked at her, “Were you guys, uh, close?” 

“Mhm,” You nodded stiffly, and silence surrounded the two of you. Ellie awkwardly nodded as she stared at the floor, and your lips twitched before you turned to stare out the window.

Some time passed in pure silence before you heard her speak. 

“… Still wanna, uh… D’you still wanna fuck?” 

You looked at her as she fumblingly scratched the back of her head. Her eyes met yours as her ears burned. You grinned as your shoulders rose.

“Up to you.” 

“Like… I still wanna if you do,” She nibbled on her bottom lip. 

You leaned back in her mom’s seat. 

“Ellie.” 

The deep tone of your voice made her look up, her eyes shining like crystals as her arms dropped to her sides. 

“Yes?” 

“… C’mere.” 

She moved, her sock-covered feet padding on the floor until she was in front of you. 

You looked up at her, your hand coming up to play with the hem of her sweater. 

You spoke softly, “Off. C’mon.” 

She grabbed the back of her top and lifted it over her head, her bare chest jiggling with her movements. She tossed the fabric to the floor. 

You eyed her chest like you were going to swallow her whole, her perky nipples urging you to reach out and pull on them. Her pussy is so fucking sensitive; Were her nipples just as bad? Worse? Could she cum just from you touching them? Fuck, she probably could—

“Are they… Do you like them?” 

Her soft whisper cut through your gawking. You met her eyes through your lashes as she squirmed in front of you. 

Your hands came up to grab her hips, massaging them gently. 

“Yeah, baby. They’re so pretty, fit you perfectly.” 

She sighed in content, “T-Thank you.” 

You planted a soft kiss to her tummy as you looked at your thumb around the elastic of her pants to pull them down. 

Her stomach jerked with every sharp breath as your lips moved on her bare skin. You felt her hand come up to your shoulder to grasp it as she stepped out of her pants. 

Your hands traveled upward to grab both her tits in a rough squeeze. She wheezed and arched her back so you could get closer. You heard her murmur a quiet fuckme, and you looked up. She was watching your every move with wide, curious eyes. You held her gaze as you licked up her torso, and she whimpered. 

You brought your hands back down to grab the back of her thighs, moving her closer to your lap. She placed her hands on your shoulders as she climbed on top of you, and you sucked her nipple into your mouth. 

She grinded down onto you and moaned, and your eyes fluttered shut. Your tongue made circular movements on the pert bud, and you hummed at the taste of her soft skin. Her head fell forward as she gasped right in your ear, and it made you suck on her hard. 

Her hips were jerking on top of you, trying to fuck down onto your clothed thigh as her nails plunged into your back. 

“Feels so… mmh!”

You brought your hand back up to her other tit and played with her nipple with your fingers. 

And then you slapped it. Hard. 

She let out a sharp squeak and mindlessly bounced on top of your leg; You could feel a slight dampness building on your jeans, and you scoffed at her, sneering when you pulled away. You hit her other tit just as hard, your spit transferring onto your palm. 

“Ah! Fuckfuckfu— “

Smack!

“Yes!”

SMACK!

She squealed. “M’gonna cum!”

You reached up to slap her face before pulling her hair to the side with a tight fist. 

You quickly grabbed her switchblade off the desk and unlatched the blade, the sharp edge popping up. You instantly pressed it to her neck, and she choked on a ragged pant. 

The lust in her eyes was accompanied by fear, and you grinned. 

“Don’t get scared now. You were waving it around earlier. So ready to fight, huh?” 

She shuddered, rutting down on your leg again, and you pressed the sharp edge into her skin harder. Her eyes shut tight, and two fat tears fell down her cheeks. She nearly bounced on you. 

“I could fuck you up right here, you know that, right?” 

“Please, mommy, needa cu—!”

You moved the knife away and released her hair, slapping her in the face again. “Shut the fuck up, you nearly slit my fuckin’ throat and now you wanna fuck. I should leave right now, fucking brat.”

She sobbed, “Nonono, please don’t leave, mommy don’t go, m’sorryI’m— “

“Mommy, don’t go!” you mocked. “Get on your fuckin’ knees.” 

You kept the blade pressed against her jugular as she clumsily shuffled to the floor, her cries shaking her body. 

“You wanna apologize?” She nodded jerkily, minding the silver edge on her vein.

“Yeah? Wanna make mommy feel better?” You said with a mean pout. 

“Mhm!”

You sloppily kicked your boots off and shoved them under the desk. 

“Take m’pants off, baby. C’mon.”

She moved quickly, unbuttoning and tugging your jeans and underwear down your legs as she sniffled. She yanked them off with a hard tug, and her eagerness made you giggle as you lifted your hips. You unzipped your jacket and pulled it off your shoulders, tossing it to the floor, leaving you in your black tank top. You could’ve sworn you saw a glimpse of a grin on her face as she eyed your breasts before she dived towards your cunt. 

You shoved the knife closer against her, and you saw blood pool at the edge of the blade. She looked up at you with an anxious expression. 

“I didn’t say you could touch me. Ask nicely.” 

She looked confused as she mumbled brokenly, “Ask you what?”

Your brows furrowed at her, “My mistake. You probably never had to ask for shit in your life.” 

Her bruised cheeks glowed red as she looked down in embarrassment. 

You grinned slyly. “Say, mommy, may I eat your pussy, please?” 

Shock overtook her expression before she rolled her eyes at you and looked to the side.

“You’re fucking cra— “

You yanked her dark hair back and pointed the end of the blade against her bruised jaw. Her ragged breaths hit your face.

“Say it.” 

“Y-You're not gonna hurt me,” she stated unsteadily. 

“You don’t know shit about me, and even if I did hurt you, you’d want it. Admit it.” 

She avoided your gaze and her lips quivered. 

You continued. “You’d let me do anything I want because you’re disgusting. A filthy fucking slut with a silver spoon in her mouth.”

You huffed at her with a frown. “And you like girls. You’d be just as worthless as I am in her eyes if she found out.” 

You nodded over to her mother’s nameplate, and her eyes shut like she was a child getting scolded for stealing candy at the store. 

“I’m right, baby? You don’t want a husband? Don’t wanna get bred for the empire like she wants?”

She shamefully shook her head as tears fell down her face. You didn’t even know if she was in that circumstance or not, but by her reaction, it seemed to cut her deep. You ignored the searing pain in your chest.

“Mhm, so,” you turned her head so she could look at you, her red eyes burning through yours. “Something you wanna ask me?” 

Her mouth dropped open in submission.

“M-Mommy, may I… May I eat your pussy, please?” 

You smiled in satisfaction, placing a gentle kiss on her wet forehead. 

“Yes, baby, you may.” 

You pulled the knife away from her and set it on the desk, grabbing her chin to plant a kiss to her mouth. She whined happily into yours. 

You pulled back and adjusted your position, leaning back with your legs spread, the underside of your knees hooked into the armrests of the seat, your cunt on full display for her. Your sopping pussy was right next to her face, and you saw her eyes flutter in delight. 

“Want me t’show you how?” 

She nodded intensely. 

You brushed away the flyaway hairs on her forehead, your hand planted on the back of her head. 

“Spit on my clit, babe. Get it nice n’wet.” 

She released a glob of spit right onto your pulsing bud,

and you sighed as it dribbled down to your hole. You tilted her head back, remnants of slobber collecting on her chin. You gathered spit in your mouth and pulled her lower lip down, her mouth falling open. You spat onto her tongue, and she moaned, tilting her head down to spit it out all over your pussy. You bit your lip so hard; you almost drew blood.

You reached down and spread your lips, your throbbing clit poking through. You could see her trembling as she eyed you. 

“Wanna taste, Ellie?”

“Yeah, please, mommy,” she choked out. 

“Lick me, then, honey.” 

She wasted no time, the tip of her tongue circling around the nub instantly. Your mouth fell open at the sensation. The pink muscle was so soft, the licks slow and gentle, barely there. 

“Doing so good, baby, take your time,” you sighed out. 

She keened at your praise; her lashes flitted like butterfly wings in Spring as she rubbed your clit in deep licks. 

“Fuck, Ellie, s’so sensitive,” she whined against you, eyes begging for your approval as she watched your expression. You caressed her burning cheek with your pointer finger, and she licked deeper.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it, making me so happy,” her eyes rolled shut as she tongued you, sliding her tongue all over your pussy in slow strokes. 

You moaned out every time she came up to lap at your clit. You guided her head down to your hole, and her tongue slipped inside, slurping up all your slick. You were gasping her name out as her tongue wiggled inside you, swirling all over your walls. 

“Such a good girl, fuck, El!” you groaned out as wet sounds filled the room. “Wanna make mommy cum?”

She hummed excitedly and nodded, her tongue moving back up to massage your clit. You tightened her grip on her head, forcing it to move back and forth her hums shaking your clit. 

She moved her head faster against you when she sucked your clit into her mouth, and your head fell back against the chair as your eyes rolled back. Your thighs were shaking, toes curled as you squealed out encouragement. You needed to cum, she was going to make you cum!

“Get me there, pretty, m’— gonna make me fuckin’ cum— “

“Wan’mommy’s cum, please?” she sloppily murmured against you. 

“Gonna get it, baby, m’right there! —“

She was fully moaning all over your clit, “Gonna fuck you so good, angel, fuck yes!”

You peeled your eyes open and looked back down at her when she released your clit to moan aloud. Her drool and your pussy juice were all over her pink lips as she sighed and whimpered in pleasure. You couldn’t see what she was doing, but her forearm was moving frantically as quiet shhlcks filled the room. 

“Ellie.”

“Mommym’gonnacum— “

“I swear to g— “

“S’so wet, oh god, please!” 

SMACK!

Her head flew onto your thigh at your hard slap to her face, and she screamed out as her body tensed up. You watched her with a scowl as she squealed out m’cummimgsohardmommy against your skin, a puddle of drool forming on your skin. 

You yanked her hand out of her boxers, and she whined in protest as her orgasmed died, her hips bucking back into the air. You stood up, pulling her up by her waist and bending her over the desk, holding her down by her neck. 

“Stop fucking with me, Ellie.” You pulled her boxers down under her ass, taking in the sight of her still pulsating cunt and her twitchy ass. 

She spat at you over her shoulder, “Or wha— “

SMACK!

She groaned out in pain against the wood when your hand connected with her asscheek in a fiery slap, your hand burning. 

“Motherfuc— “

SMACK! 

You hit her and hit her. And hit her again. And again. Until she was jerking away from you, her hips bucking against the desk and your handprints covering her ass in a cherry-red tint. 

You don’t even remember how many times you slapped her, but she was sobbing out apologies against the desk, asking for your forgiveness over her tears.

“You done fucking around?” Your hand felt like it was in flames when you dropped it on the desk.

“Yesyes, mommy, I won’t—sob— won’t fuck up again!” 

“I was actually gonna eat your pussy out,” you scoffed out nastily, and she only cried harder at the insinuation that you weren’t anymore. “You don’t want that, you don’t want me fucking nice.” 

You pulled away and walked towards your discarded

bag on the floor, digging through it and pulling your dick out, stepping into and adjusting the straps as you watched her bruised ass jiggle with each wail. 

Your dick stood up as you walked back over to her. You gave her one last hard slap on her marked ass and pulled her up by her arm, shoving her onto her knees in front of you so she was trapped between you and the desk. 

You could see her wiping away tears, but you grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at you. 

“You want dick so bad? Get it wet so I can fuck you.” 

Shock appeared on her face.

“Y-You’re gonna fuck me with that?” You watched her inspect the size of you. The length, the girth, all the ridges. Her breathing got heavier the longer she stared.

“Now you’re fucking scared, really, Ellie?”

“I’m not sca— “

“Talk back again, and I’m leaving. You’re getting on my fucking nerves.” 

She glared at you, but looked down, straight at your tip, then back at you. 

And then she spit on it, a fat glob of saliva dribbling down the sides of your cock. Her hand came up to wrap around the base, rubbing her spit into the silicone. She held eye contact with you as she stuck her tongue out. You reached down and placed your hand on top of hers, slapping your tip on her slobbery muscle. 

“Good fucking whore, good n’sloppy,” you let go to pat her still-red cheek with a heavy hand, and her pretty eyes hardened, her blush deepening. She dropped her mouth open, her lips curling on the tip as she sucked on it. You bit your lip as you watched her tongue swirl around you.

She moaned around the silicone, her eyes filthy. Her hand spread her spit up all over you as she took in your inches slowly, jerking you off and slobbering on you at the same time. She looked like a fucking pornstar, like she practiced for this, like she wanted to impress you, and you shook like you could actually feel her mouth. Your pussy was desperate to cum, but you pushed it aside and watched her. 

She released you with a wet pop, her tongue flicking around your tip like she was lapping at your cum, and you couldn’t stop the moan that left your mouth. 

“Nasty slut, goddamn— “

She smiled like you just called her the prettiest girl in the world before sucking you back in, her head bobbing up and down as she slurped you up. There was so much spit on your length that it started dripping onto the floor.

You bucked forward, your hips moving on autopilot, and she choked on you, her hand coming up to your thigh to squeeze it. You ignored her grasp and fucked into her mouth harder, pinning both her arms above her head on the desk. She gargled around your dick, and you could only imagine the tightness of her throat with each gag. 

“What, baby? Don’t like it? Want me t’stop?” You gritted out. And you thrusted deeper. She moaned and her mouth opened wider.

She was making wet noises around you, her head thudding against the top drawer of the desk when you fucked in. You fucked your entire cock down her throat, and she gagged hard. 

You pulled out and let her go.

She fell forward and coughed hard, her drool pooling down on the eggshell floors as she choked. You watched in irritation as she heaved.

“Get up,” her gasps slowed as she breathed in deeply, and she lifted her head to glare at you from her hunched position. 

“Get up.” 

“Fuck you,” she spluttered.

“I’m gonna. Get up.”

Despite her bitterness, she slowly stood and instantly bent over the desk with her scarred ass poked out towards you. You chuckled when you saw both her holes pulse in excitement.

“That’s how it is?” you slapped her asscheek, and her hips bucked back against your hand. 

“Uh huh,” you heard her crackly mumble dazedly. “Need you t’make me cum.”

“Seemed alright doing it yourself a few minutes ago.”

She ignored you, and you smirked, “Need your cock, mommy, pleeease, please— “

You reached out, running two fingers over her drenched slit, and she pressed back on them as she sighed in pleasure. You slowly slid your fingers down to her clit, and she moaned aloud, her thighs jerking. 

“Look at this fucking pussy, jesus.” 

“I-It’s pretty?”

“Yeah, baby, fuck,” your mouth watered when you saw her walls clench. “Can’t even be mad, you’re so fucking hot.”

“Then fuck me,” she whined out sweetly, looking at you over her shoulder. 

You leaned down until you were eye level with her pussy, her walls squelching and squeezing repeatedly. You bit your lip and kitty-licked her cunt, her slick painting your taste buds as her smell surrounded you, and she jumped at the feeling. 

“Taste like fucking honey.” 

“So do you, made me so wet,” she exhaled as she shivered in anticipation. 

“S’gonna hurt,” you whispered, more to yourself as you eyed her tightness. 

“Don’t care.” She pushed back on your face.

“Put your hands behind your back. Don’t move them.” 

She shuddered and obeyed instantly, her hands overlapping at the wrists at the small of her back. 

You pressed one last kiss to her pussy before standing upright, “You move your hands, I stop.”

“Not gonna move, mommy,” she whispered in between unsteady breaths. “Make me feel good, please. Please, please.”

“Shh. Got you, baby. Open your legs,” you caressed her back and she squirmed. You felt goosebumps rise all over her skin, and you smirked.

The gap between her thighs widened even more for you, her cunt on full display. You could hear her beckoning you to pop the tip inside her in tiny, desperate whispers, and it made your core clench. 

You inched closer to her until the back of her thighs pressed against the front of yours. You wrapped a hand around your wet dick and brought it up to her slit, soaking it in her gooey slick and sliding it between her silky lips. Her cunt was already soaking your entire length and you didn’t even fuck her yet. She was subtly pushing back on you, trying to get you inside her. 

You heard the enthusiasm in her voice when she keened, “Mommy, please, it’s right there!”

“Mhm, I know, I see it,” you mumbled wetly, her gooey cunt looked so pretty under the light of the city, shining like glitter.

“Making mommy so wet baby, such a pretty girl,” you brought your cock back up to her slit and pushed forward, slowly popping the tip in her snug opening. She squealed loudly, and you saw her fists clench at the end of her spine as her walls clung to you, pulling you in.

“Yesyesyes, oh god, mommy, fuck, uh huh!”

“Yeah, baby? It hurts?” 

“Nooo, feels s’good, oh shit! —“

You slowly pushed in another inch, gauging her reaction for any discomfort, your thumb moving on her hip softly. She tried to push back to take you deeper, but you held her hips down.

“Fuck mefuckmefuckme— “

“Gonna be my good girl, baby? Gonna take it nice’n deep?” 

“Yeah, mommy!”

You pushed in even deeper, and you could feel the resistance of her cunt the more you slid in. You couldn’t stop the moan you released when she said your name. 

“Y-You’re splitting me open, ffuck— “

You pressed in the last bit of your dick, her ass resting at the top of your thighs, your hands propping you up on the desk as you leaned above her, placed on either side of her head. She was sighing heavily in satisfaction, and you could see her glossy eyes rolling. 

“Feelin’ good?”

She nodded slowly, “U-Use me, mommy, please use me t’cum, fuck.”

“Gotta take care of my girl first,” you fucked out of her slowly before snapping your hips, fucking all your inches back into her, and she screamed. “Such a tight pussy.”

You bent down to kiss her pretty back, down her spine as you stroked her deeply. You’d barely completed your fourth stroke before you felt Ellie tense up under you, her body shuddering as she moaned quietly to herself. You snickered at her. 

“Baby’s cumming?” you licked up her spine again. 

You could only see her nod in jerky headshakes from where you stood, her cheek pressed against the desk. You looked down at where you were connected, and you could see how her walls struggled to choke your dick. You grabbed her wrists in one hand and fucked her through her orgasm, your free hand sneaking under her hips to rub her clit. 

The second her body relaxed, you saw the muscles in her back flex again, the arch in her back deepening, “Mommy, think—m’cumming again, oh god, motherfu— “

“How many are you gonna give me, angel?” you rubbed her clit faster, fucking in harder. 

“I feel it, I feel it, fuck!” She wasn’t listening to anything you were saying as she yelled in her pleasure. You could see how much she was wetting your cock, lines of her slick forming every time you pulled out of her. You angled your hips downward when you fucked back in, and she shouted your name out, her warnings of her orgasm echoing in your ears. You released her clit and pinned her down by her neck again. 

“Like it right there, baby? That’s the spot?” You could feel your core squeezing with every cry she let out, her voice completely broken, her squeals scratchy. 

She was babbling about something, but you weren’t listening, the squelchy sounds of her cunt increasing in volumes as you forced your dick in her, stirring her guts up. 

You looked down and saw her ass squeezing with every quiver of her cunt, and you licked your lips. You let her wrists go and brought a hand to your mouth, sucking your thumb in to wet it before rubbing her ass with it. 

She let out a loud slew of ah ah ahs before you felt a burst of wetness on your thighs, dripping down onto the floor. Her entire body was jerking back onto your, her rosy ass jiggling every time she hit your hips. 

But then you heard a slam above her shouts of pleasure and mommy!

You looked up to check on her unsteady form as she continued to drench your lap, her hand resting on the back of her mother’s nameplate, her fingertips digging into the wood as she screamed in her euphoria. 

It made you fuck her harder and pull her hand away from the dog tag. You didn’t even care about punishing her anymore, you needed to cum. You’d been riding that edge since you got here, and you knew you were going to cum so hard.

You leaned over her body and grinded into her, moving her hand away from the plate and sitting back up in its position. You grabbed her by her spit-coated chin so she could look dead at her mother’s name. She whimpered and tried to look away from it, but you tightened the grip on her face to keep her still. 

“Look at it, baby— “

She sobbed, murmuring how hard she was about to cum again, her eyes fluttering as she stared at it, her cheeks glowing like apples.

You bent down to her ear, “You embarrassed, angel? Huh? Wanna close your eyes? Gonna squirt on me again?”

She was looking dead at the plate, “You’re so deep, mommy, fuck yes, m’gonna!—“

“Nasty fucking slut, taking it so good,” You looked up at the clear window as your thrusts picked up pace again, the entire city shining through the glass in all its glory. Every light of every building, people roaming, honking, noises of construction. It was all beneath you, and it was all theirs. The strap was bumping on your clit with each thrust. 

“Look at your city, baby,” you lifted her weightless head by her wild, knotted hair and made her look into the distance as you groaned in pleasure. “Gonna be all yours one day, can do whatever you want with it soon.”

“Fuuuck— “

“Uh huh, you like having that power? You can get whatever the fuck you want— “

“M-Mommy!”

“Just need a baby, right? Gonna g-give her what she wants? Gonna give her that precious heir, that golden child?”

“Yesyesyes! Wan’your baby, ge’me fucking pregnant!”

You moaned at her begging as you babbled mindlessly to her, “Gonna cum in you, fuck, need it… t’catch— “

She was screaming about how your seed was going to catch in her womb, how hard she was going to squirt again, begging you to fuck her harder, hurt her, make her bleed, make her scream. You could feel your senses leaving as your orgasm built as she pushed back on you, and you moaned her name in her ear. 

“Fuuuck, Ellie,” your clit jerked, and you let her go, her head falling onto her arm in front of her as she yelled in euphoria. “Gonna make that bitch raise my fuckin’ kid while I’m gone? Huh?”

She didn’t even react to your slip of your departure, “Yeahyesyesyes! Fuck, I’m cumming!”

You felt another spray of liquid drip down your legs as you drilled her, and it triggered your own orgasm. Your clit jerked as your release rushed through you, your walls clenching as your body shook on top of hers, grinding against her to ride it out. You could almost feel the sensation of filling her up, her cunt sucking your cum deep inside her. 

She was still moaning above you, wringing the last bits of her orgasm out on your cock. You whined against her sweaty skin, the aftershocks moving through you. 

You felt her go completely lax underneath you, heavy sighs leaving her parted lips. 

You both caught your breaths in soothing silence. 

After Ellie asked you to show her how to kiss properly, the pounding of your heart refused to slow down. 

You were seated in her mother’s chair once more, her wetness still coating you in stickiness as she straddled your lap, her arms around your neck as she gazed at you nervously.

“We just fucked, why do you look like that?”

Her brows creased, “Like what?”

“Like you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” she whispered, her eyes flickering down to your lips before looking back up at you. 

You only hummed at her, brushing your noses together before leaning forward, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her down to you. Her eyes shut tightly, and her lips puckered in front of yours, and you pulled back, grabbing her face to stop her.

“Stop doing that, just relax.” 

“… What’d I do?”

You mimicked her, poking your lips out stiffly before breaking out into a grin. She huffed with a tiny smile, shaking her head, “Sorry.”

You shrugged, uncaring. She looked down, “Where do I put my tongue?” 

You snorted, “Nowhere yet.”

You craned your neck up slowly and connected your mouth with hers gently, your lips molding against hers. She sighed and leaned closer into you, her arms tightening around the back of your neck. You felt a sharp sting in your chest at her delicate touch, and you pulled away. A soft smack filled the room when you separated. She smiled softly, “That was cute.” 

You nodded stiffly, murmuring a mhm, before looking down. Out the window. Behind her. Anywhere but her eyes. 

You felt her nuzzle against your cheek, kissing it gently, “Are we… uh, fucking again?” 

“You want to?” The pounding in your ears was giving you a headache. 

You felt her nod. Another kiss to your cheek. Another pull in your heart. 

Your hands planted on her hips, lifting them so she could sit on you, but she grabbed your wrists to stop you. 

Her hands latched onto the hem of your shirt, attempting to pull it up and over your head, but your hand caught her wrist. Not harshly, but stern.

Her eyes softened at your masked expression, releasing the gentle grip on your shirt, “I’m, uh… I’m sorr— “

“It’s fine. Ready?” you grabbed the base of your dick in your hand, and she mumbled a quiet yes. 

You felt her hand come on top of yours as she helped you guide it to her entrance, and your breath shook as you exhaled.

Her hips came down on you at her own pace, your free hand resting on her hip. She gasped when it slipped inside, her hands coming to support herself on each armrest. 

“Feels different like this,” she whispered huskily.

You smirked, “I know, take your time.” 

She nodded, slowly sinking down on you. You saw her eyelids get heavy as her walls caught on every ridge of you, her head falling back in her pleasure. Her soft locks disheveled all over her head, her bun nonexistent as her bobby pins stuck out from every direction. 

She slid in too deep, though. She let out a pained gasp as she caught herself on the chair, her brows furrowing. 

“Okay?” you checked in.

She nodded, her lip in between her teeth, “So deep like this, fuck… don’t know if I can go all the way down.”

“It’s fine, babe, make yourself feel good.” 

“H-Help me?” her breathing was picking up as her hips bucked. 

Your other hand flew to her hips, digging into her soft skin as you guided her hips on you. You eased her into a deep grind, and her hands flew behind you, landing on the headrest behind you. 

Her head rested in the crook of your neck as she followed your movements, her wet moans hitting the side of your neck. The sensation of her breath on your skin made your pussy clench. 

“Am I—gasp—doing good, m-mommy?” 

“Fucking me so good, baby, shit,” you whispered in her ear, and she moaned aloud in yours. She sped up on you, the harness digging into your clit with each swivel of her hips. 

Your hands moved down to grab her ass, spreading her cheeks before slapping them, grabbing the plush of them in your hands. She fucked you harder, and you felt her spit drip on your neck as she wailed into your skin. You threw your head back on the headrest when she sucked on your neck, right on your open scar.

She lifted her head up and looked at you with gentle eyes, her hands moving down from the headrest to grab your cheeks in a soft touch. She was panting on your mouth, her lips brushing against yours with every jump on you. She was so close and she smelled so good, her lips soft. 

She whispered dreamily, “Can’t stop cumming— “

Your eyelids fluttered, “Then don’t. Give it to me, m’so close— “

She grinded harder as she leaned down to connect your lips in a honey-sweet kiss. You reciprocated against your brain's desires. 

Push her away. She’ll never be yours! This is all she wants from you!

Tears built in your eyes as your peak approached, her moans increasing in urgency against your mouth. You sucked on her bottom lip, biting it hard. This is the most eager you’ve felt since you touched her. 

“Cum with me, pleasepleaseplease— “

“I’m gonna, baby, fuck me hard!”

She was going crazy on your dick, full-on bouncing on you, taking it all despite her protests earlier, and you felt yourself tipping. Your pussy squeezed and soaked the harness as your orgasm pulled in your gut. You looked down at your cock, and it was drenched in her white, sticky substance. She was creaming all over your cock as she used you. It made your eyes cross in your skull as your euphoria hit you. 

You were so loud as your nails tore into her skin, your moans matching hers in volume. You felt another splash of fluid on you, and you came harder, another wave crashing through you. You would’ve curled in on yourself if she wasn’t on top of you. 

You felt her tongue slide into your hungry mouth, swirling around yours as you shouted through your high. She was making you feel so good, and you couldn’t fucking think. 

You felt like you were cumming for minutes before the harsh pulses slowed into soft twitches, her hips slowing, and she bent down to kiss you. The touch was soft, sweet, undeserved. You stiffened, on guard immediately. 

She was close, she was too close. Her soft caresses on your face snapped you out of your intoxication, pulling away from her mouth and grabbing her hips to pull her off your dick. 

“T-Turn around, Ellie.”

“Huh?” she asked softly, her eyes teary and delicate. 

“T-Turn around,” your voice trembled.

“O-Okay.”

She was too fucking close. 

She lifted off you, planting her feet on the ground and you spun her. You pulled her down on your lap, her ass in front of your cock. You grabbed your tip, pushing it past her entrance, and she mewled. She took it with ease, mewling out as her back arched into you, swallowing you whole as she sunk down again. 

She planted her hands on your knees and immediately bounced on you, her toned ass meeting the base of your harness with every jump on your cock. 

You could see her pussy suck on your inches, suffocating your girth, her walls clinging to you. 

You grabbed her neck and pushed her forward slightly, and she cried out in painful pleasure. You planted your feet on the floor and fucked up into her. 

“Fuck! Your dick feels so fucking good! Oh my—agh!”

You saw even move cream spread over your dick with every fuck inside her squishy walls. You were moaning with her, fucking her harder, faster, the hand on her neck moving up to pull her hair hard. The sound of wet skin slapping accompanied the sounds you both made in your pleasured state. 

You were going to cum so fucking quick, “Fuck, Ellie, shit— “

“I’m gonna cum so hard, mommy!” your hand in her hair flew down to her hip, grinding her down harder on you. You moaned at the feeling.

“Yeah? Already?” You were right behind her, those euphoric waves pulling in your gut.

“Fuck—fuckyes!”

“Want it so bad, get it all over this fucking dick, baby— “

Her hand that'd been playing with her tits flew down on top of yours on her waist, her fingers lacing with yours tightly as she shouted, screaming your name. She met your harsh thrusts as she bounced, and she squirted on you again, and you watched it gush out of her, wetting your stomach and harness and the chair beneath her, the sound of splattering liquid on the floor making you cum the hardest you ever had. Your vision whitened as your orgasm crushed you. 

She kept cumming on you, and you kept cumming for her. The pleasure didn’t stop, and all you could do was scream her name out like she did yours, hold her hand tighter as your brain melted. She rocked back and forth on you, prolonging your orgasm, making you cum harder. It just kept building in intensity, the aggressive pulses wracking through you, your toes curling as she milked you, and all you could do was take it.

You blacked out in her mom’s chair, the last thing you remember seeing was her pulsing, squirting pussy, pulsing ass, and the auburn stars that painted her entire back. 

Some time passed, your lashes fluttering open as you felt soft touches on your face. 

You were met with delicate, green eyes, Ellie looking at you with a softness you hadn’t seen in years. It felt foreign, deep, and it made your heart pick up in panic. 

You pulled away from her touches and looked around unsteadily. 

She was too close. Too fucking close.

The office was a mess: clothes everywhere, the floor was soaked, the whole room smelled like sex and pussy, desk askew, its contents thrown everywhere, Ellie’s tears and puddles of spit all over the surface. You could even see splatters of… her on her mother’s restraining order against you. 

You were suddenly terrified, moving into action and guiding her off your lap so you could stand. You undid the straps of your dick and stepped out of it, cringing at the drying stickiness, and throwing it into your backpack.

You heard her speak from behind you, “Hey, hey, you okay? What’s wr— ‘

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine, I gotta go,” you said tensely. Unwelcoming. Guarded.

“Did… did I do something?” She sounded too soft, too gentle. 

“No, Ellie, I just, I gotta go,” You dressed erratically, pulling your underwear up and jeans on, wincing at your cum sticking to your garments. 

You could hear the crack in her voice, “Can I… do you need help or— “

“Ellie, I’m fucking fine. I’m fine, okay? Forget it.” You spat over your shoulder as you repacked. Don’t look at her, don’t fucking look at her. 

She sounded just as anxious as you did, “W-Why are you so upset with me all of a sudden? What’d I do— “

“You didn't do shit! Can you fucking drop it please!”

Her breath shuddered, “I thought… I thought we were… okay?” 

You whipped around to face her, an incredulous look on your face. Your heart shattered when she flinched, but you yelled at her anyway. Why the hell did you look at her?

“Why the fuck would we be okay?! Did you forget how we fucking met in the first place!” You pointed behind her to the soiled court order, “We’re never going to be fucking okay! Get that through your fucking head.” 

You reached down to grab your heavy bag, throwing it over your shoulder in a hurry. You felt like you were going to suffocate. You needed to go. Right now. You turned towards the door. You hadn’t even shut it all the way when you came in. 

“I’m never going to see you again, am I?” 

Your own tears fell at the dejected acceptance in her voice. She sounded so broken, and it was all your fault. 

But you knew this was for the best. The two of you could never exist together in bliss, even though meeting her was the most human you’ve felt since you were a child. Since your father was alive. 

But you were too different, too damaged. All you would do is hurt each other, you would resent each other, grow to hate, to regret. The world was too cruel, and she was not prepared for its harshness. You were barely prepared, and you lived it every day. And you promised yourself to never go through the despair of loss again. You walked towards the door and heard her release a quiet sob. 

“No,” you pulled the knob, the spacious hallway being another reminder that you didn’t belong. Not here, not anywhere. Her mother was right. 

You were worthless. Held no value in this society. 

In another life, you could’ve been something great. Your cards could’ve been different, better. You could’ve made your father proud. The two of you could’ve been happy.

“You won’t.” 

You left the same way you came, moving in urgency before her sobs lured you back to take her in your arms, against your will. 

Maybe in another life. 

hi lol OOOOOOWEEEEE 

this was heavy sorry gworlies i love sad shit 

don’t hate me too much? 

omg tell me what y’all thought or whatever *looks away shyly 

thank u 4 reading if u did :3

hi taglist love yall @cherriessxinthespring @ellieswifee @elliespookie @belovednanami @sevikasimp @saturnsellie

[anjelicawrites]

The one looking out for you

Paring: dark!Michael Gavey x fem!reader Synopsis: fill for this ask: “Hii can I request a dark Michael gavey x fem reader smut where they're coworkers and reader don't really know Michael because he works in IT and they only pass each other here and there but Michael is obsess with reader and one day he overhears reader telling a coworker that she's ovulating but her fiancé (who's been cheating on her without her knowledge) is out of town and they've been trying for a baby. Michael digs up dirt on her fiance and leaks the info anonymously and then he "coincidently" finds her crying and kinda drunk and he "comforts" reader”. Warnings: NONCON (reader is drunk while having sex), rape, rape drugs, stalking, obsession, sexist language, fatphobia, pictures and videos taken without reader’s consent, vomiting, alcohol usage, reader being drunk, p in v sex, chocking, titty sucking, fingering, creampie, baby trapping, breeding kink, lactation kink, talk of reader reduced to a basement wife, talk of pregnancy sex. A/N: reader is AFAB but not described. Where needed, she/her pronouns used.

Michael knows how special you are, how gentle you heart is; he sees you in all the ways other people don’t. Some might call his behavior obsessive, stalkerish even, but the world doesn’t understand that, when you finally find your person, you need to take all the necessary steps to keep that person safe. Take today, for example. You had worked overtime, your team leader needing your expertise for the latest company project, and are going home just now, after 9 pm on a cold winter night. You should wait for the bus, or hail a cab, but you’re too tired to wait and just want to go home thus cutting through the city park. Michael knows because he’s following the GPS of your phone, to make sure nothing happens to you, and is using the speakers of your phone to hear what’s happening around you and call the cops if someone tries to approach you.

He shouldn’t have cloned your phone, he knows it’s frowned upon, but you pull shit like this: how is he supposed to keep you safe? You are too gentle, too trusting of the world and in need of a protector, someone who will really look after you, not like your useless fiancé, who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve, nor he loves you, otherwise he wouldn’t be having an affair with the girl living in the next door apartment. The discovery had been casual, the Trojan he used to clone your phone had infected your fiancé’s as well and Michael had been the unwilling witness to his sexual escapades with that whore. He had been so disgusted by the way the asshole talked about you, that he would have disconnected from the phone, if he wasn’t digging for dirt on him.

Michael knows he’s invisible, he’s always been: no friends, no girlfriend, only him and his brilliant mind; when he was younger he had suffered because no one acknowledged him, now he understands he has a superpower that helps him navigate corporate life, absorbing all the relevant information, without anyone realizing what he’s doing.

You greet him whenever you stumble upon him in the corridors, still grateful he solved a computer issue you had the day of a big presentation, the reason why he’s met you in the first place and every gentle smile you direct his way, adds fuel to the fire of his obsession. He’s racked his own brains for days, after that first fateful encounter, wondering how he could start a conversation with you, cloning your phone had been the only way he thought he could find something you two had in common. It saved him a gaffe, when he saw all the photos with your fiancé, and gave him so much insight inside your brain, to understand you were the woman for him; of course you are far more creative that he’ll ever be, your soul gentler than his, but you are smart and being so different will only add to you two’s relationship, once he’s gotten rid of your boyfriend.

Michael is working on the new firewall, hidden in his own basement office. He’s thankful that the other IT people are misanthropes as he is and don’t mind that he’s working with his headphones on, on the contrary, everyone is wearing headgear to focus better on their task, the difference being, he’s listening to you. Your day is slow, with the big project finished, you and your team can kick back a bit, have a chat while ironing the last wrinkles.

Michael has been listening while you were chatting with that stupid cow, Marissa, about the last movie you’ve watched at that theater that shows mostly old black and white flicks; Michael has managed to garner quite the knowledge about old time Hollywood and Cinecittà and has discovered a fondness for old Hammer movies himself, even though the movies he prefers the most star you while you’re pleasuring yourself (something you’re doing quite frequently, since the asshole doesn’t seem to be that interested in you anymore), the theater? Your webcam and your apartment.

His focuses his attention when you go to have a coffee with your ‘work wife’ Jenny; through your phone he hears that you two are going downstairs, to the cafeteria of the building: one day you and him will do the same, pick a place to call your own, just to have a break. You have only bought your phone with you, it’s easy for him to listen to the inane chat, even though the cafeteria is packed; he’s not truly focusing on the conversation, just to the sound of your lovely voice as you wait for your coffee (espresso, a splash of oat milk and half sugar) and your favorite pastry (pain au chocolat, vegan); it’s when the asshole’s name drops that he stops working and focus only on you.

“You know we’ve been trying truly hard, at least we used to.” You say with a defeated tone he doesn’t like. “Then we stopped for his big project, I understand that he couldn’t follow that and my hormonal cycle.”

Michael grits his teeth; he’s been looking out for you for the better part of the year, before? He wasn’t your guardian angel and it had been difficult for him to put together the pieces, since you don’t use that many apps to store your personal life and information.

“Wait.” Jenny stops you. “Wasn’t he the one who wanted to start trying again?” “Yes.” From your tone only Michael can imagine you pinching the bridge of your nose. “He’s been repeating me to check my ovulation, write everything down or use those pregnancy like sticks, and what does he do the weekend I am at my peak? Leaves for work!”

Michael has to clench his fists when he understands what you and Jenny are talking about: children. You and the asshole having a baby!

Michael has to leave his small office and storms to the bathroom where he can pace around like a caged beast: that son of a bitch wants to knock you up, while he’s having an affair with the whore next door?

Calm, he tells himself, you need to stay calm and focused.

“What kind of trip is that?” He hears Jenny ask. “Work. His firm is trying to promote a new kind of prosthesis during this orthopedics conference; he has to be there.” “Why can’t you go with him? Take the weekend off? You wouldn’t be the only partner to go, I think”. “There have been some issues.” Your voice lowers conspiratorially. “Some of his colleagues had gone with their mistresses, on firm expenses and now all family members are banned from going.” “Hmm.” Jenny doesn’t seem too convinced. “Are you sure he wants to truly try?

Michael hears you sigh and wished he was there, not in this stupid bathroom!

“We are more distant. I keep telling myself that we had to both work on big projects at the same time, that we were forced to focus on work more than we would have liked and that, after the storm, things would go back to normal.”

Michael hears you sniff and the soft sound of Jenny’s hand on yours.

“What’s your gut feeling, love?” She asks, with a quiet voice. “That is not a storm and that he’s asked to try for a baby again because he doesn’t know how to handle all of this.” “Perhaps him going away for the weekend isn’t such a bad thing.”

Michael likes Jenny, she’s smart, calls IT only when she has a real issue and treats all of them like they are people, not the weird nerds hiding in the basement; he reckons Jenny is a bit of a nerd as well, based on the Star Trek knickknacks on her desk. Yes, when you and him are together, she’s one of the friends he’ll advise you to stick with: you’ll have to drop many of them, too stupid for you, and for him, but not Jenny, she can stay.

Michael hides in one of the stalls and opens the secret app on his phone where he keeps all your photos and videos. Some are racy, you pleasuring yourself using your favorite dildo and clit sucker, your sobs of pleasure going straight to his cock every time, but that’s not what he is looking for as his thumb swipes through all the pics he has, until he’s found the one he loves the most: you on the sofa, dressed in an oversized jumper, as you read your book. You look homely, the picture of what he wants your lives to be: quiet and filled with each other’s presence, you two don’t need anyone else, Or perhaps...

His mind goes back to the conversation he’s just heard. Michael doesn’t truly care for children but for you? He’ll give you a soccer team of babies if only you asked, fuck you full of his cum until he’s sure he’s bred you, only to fuck you some more once you’re full. His finger slides through the photos until he finds one of you in your bathing suit, just to imagine your tummy full of his child and your breast swollen with milk, begging to be sucked: yeah, the idea of knocking you up becomes more and more appealing as the minutes pass. He just needs to make sure the asshole doesn’t manage before he does.

Michael goes back to his cubicle with a lighter heart, now that he knows what the stakes are; he even whistles his favorite song as he orders a bouquet of the flowers you love (white callas and light pink lilies), to have them sent to your workstation: this has been his only outward way to express his feelings for you and today you need something nice to look at, after your heartfelt conversation with Jenny. As he focuses again on the firewall, Michael mentally pats himself on the back for having cloned the asshole's phone by mistake: you will have to know what is going on, it will hurt you, but he’s going to be there for you, unlike your fiancé.

Later that night, Michael is storing all he has on the asshole on the USB pen he’s bought on the way back to his small apartment; as one of the computers is working on the background, out of curiosity he checks if what the asshole has told you about the ban on partners going to conventions is true or not: if he’s lying, he’s going to add to the mountain of proofs he has, if not, well, it means that even him plays fair sometimes.

He stares at the desktop, before clicking on his browser icon: obviously is a picture of you, a selfie you’ve taken on holiday; you look so relaxed and happy, the shadows the straw hat you’re wearing paint on the skin of your cleavage are so elegant: he’s never met a woman who can be classy even when wearing a skimpy bikini. You are truly a Goddess among your kind, the best and the smartest, created just for him. He hopes you’ll let him snap racy pictures of you, once you two are together; nothing obscene or pornographic, just to celebrate your beauty and grace. Michael thinks he will be able to convince you, otherwise something in your water to make sure you’re pliant will make do.

You don’t want to be at this stupid office party. Yes, your last project was a success, all your colleagues want to celebrate, but you are in no mood, thanks to your cheating, asshole of a boyfriend.

You don’t know who sent you the USB pen, you’re not sure you’ll ever thank them for opening your eyes, but the truth is in front of you and you have no way to stop knowing what has been happening behind your back; given the chance, would you rather not have received the envelope and the USB? Nursing your umpteenth cocktail you’re not sure of the answer.

The envelope was white and lacked a return address, which was unusual but not overly so: the local Catholic Church leaves leaflets when Christmas and Easter are near, to promote the activities during these periods of time, never envelopes but you thought they were changing their strategies and opened it once you were home, alone as usual. The USB had surprised you, the printout of the reservation made of your fiancé and the girl next door, for the conference, propelled you to the bathroom, where you threw up your lunch and afternoon snack.

There was another message, smaller, that invited you to check the USB pen in your hand, if you wanted to know the truth; you stayed rooted on the spot for the longest time, torn between wanting to ignore everything, or let the bomb explode. Time passed, punctuated by the old clock in the kitchen, until you made up your mind, and choose the latter, you’re a daughter of Pandora after all, and plugged the USB in your computer: a barrage of text, photos and audio messages attacked you, you managed to go through a small percentage of them, before you had to run to the bathroom to throw up again, your stomach churning bile until you had nothing left to give. After this onslaught you cried with your knees tight against your chest, until you felt so tired you’d sleep on the cold bathroom floor, but you forced yourself to go back to the living room and went through all the proofs of your fiancé’s infidelity with the whore next door.

You didin’t know your personal guardian angel was listening to everything and looking using the smart TV you’ve bought last year. Michael’s heart hurt with your pain, he wished he was there to comfort you; if only you had waited for him, instead of being with the asshole, he wouldn’t have to make you go through all of this. It was your fault for not having faith that your true love was waiting for you: you’ll go through this cathartic experience and then be free to start your new life, the one Michael will tailor for you, and for himself.

With gritted teeth he watched the fight you have with the asshole, all the excuses he spewed, and then the insults against you, before he left slamming the door. He saw you angrily drink and cry until you passed out on the couch and he stayed up all night, watching you through the TV to make sure you were still breathing. It hurt him that you were hurt, but it was the price to pay for a better future.

You have been on autopilot for the rest of the week: went to work, where you used a mere fraction of your attention on the last details of the finished project, and then returned home to cry. You fiancé, better, former fiancé at this point, didn’t even try to patch things up with you, on Thursday, after you returned from work, all his stuff had disappeared and he hadn’t even left a note or sent you a message. You truly spiraled after that, called your best friend and wept on the phone for hours, until you head hurt; on a whim you had even thought about not going to work on Friday, but you couldn’t, not with the presentation of the bloody project and the celebration party afterwards. You decided to settle with finishing the alcohol at home and sent disparaging texts to your ex, who never answered them (little you knew that your own guardian angel had to do with that, and with the fact that he had disappeared with all his belongings; that was not something Michael thought you needed to worry your pretty head with).

You played your part on Friday, said your little spiel and shook hands on command, wore a fake smile for everyone to see, until you could hide in the conference room, nursing glasses after glasses of cheap alcohol, until you felt like enough time had passed to return home.

You’re sitting at the big desk, facing morosely the incredible view from such a high floor, with a glass and bottle you’ve taken from the open bar. You’re drunk, it's so easy to ignore the little voice in your head that’s telling you to stop, call a Uber and go home when your tummy is sloshing with alcohol. You’re so detached from your body that the door opening with a small creak doesn’t scare you.

“I thought nobody was here.”

You turn your head slowly and feel the strain of your eyes as they focus on the intruder. On first sight you don’t recognize him, then his name comes back to you Michael, one of the IT guys who solves all your technical issues. You’ve met him a couple of times, once when Marissa had some issued with her computer. You had felt bad for the guy, who had to come upstairs to simply turn the switch Marissa had swore was already on the right position. He had said something nasty about your colleague under his breath, ‘vapid cunt’, or something among those lines, as he was leaving. You didn’t approve of his language, but understood his frustration: he probably had to deal with stupid accidents like that all the time, his patience must have slipped; you had stopped him before he entered the lift and said you were sorry on your colleague’s behalf. You could have sworn his eyes had focused on you, behind his tick glasses, as if he was assessing you, judging you, but it was just a moment, then his blue eyes seemed to clear and you had repeated yourself that you have been consuming too much true crime, if such an innocuous man could cause weird thoughts in your head.

You had seen him around, he had saved your arse when your computer stopped working the day of a big presentation, tall and gangly, and always greeted him with a smile and a wave, which he would awkwardly respond to: he was one of the many people you knew, but weren’t truly friends with.

“Hi.” You try to sound sober. “Far from the madding crowd as well?”

Ok, you tell yourself, that’s not too bad.

Michael gently closes the door, you don’t see it but he locks it as well, before he walks towards you.

“Something like that.”

You stare at him, truly taking his appearance in for the first time. He’s awkward, standing the way he does a couple of chairs away from you, but not ugly: he should dress better and wear more stylish glasses, but he is handsome, in a nerd kind of way; his eyes are a beautiful shade of blue, and he is tall, not imposing but with large shoulders.

“Come.” You say, patting the chair next to you. “Don’t stand where you are. Fancy a drink?”

Almost knocking a chair over, Michael walks where you are and stiffly sits.

“I think I am full for the night.” He answers, when you offer him your own glass. “Are you sure? I’d loathe to drink by myself.” “Sure.” He answers. “Uhm, congratulation with the project.” He adds.

You pour yourself a generous amount of alcohol and drink it down in one go.

“That? Child’s play.” “Still, a great amount of money coming this way.” “Yeah.” You’re suddenly more morose than before. “All I am good for.”

You sway on the chair and distantly feel Michael’s hands, his very large hands, grab you by your shoulders before you can fall.

“I’m fine Mickey boy.” You slur with your face dangerously close to his. “I’m nothing but trash worth kicking anyway!”

You shrug him off and try to keep an upright position.

“Don’t say that about yourself!”

Something in his tone forces your drunken mind to focus on him.

“What do you know?” You bare your teeth at him and he has to keep you upright again. “I’m with this guy for years, years! I turn down the position in the USA office for him! Lose weight! Learn how to cook like his sodden mama and what does he do? He fucks the next door neighbor, that fat cow! I have to starve myself and be shamed when I can’t be a bloody size 8 and he fucks her! Sends her dick picks! Talks shit about me!”

The same way rage had possessed you, it disappears, leaving you a shaking handful of nerves; before you even realize it, you fall against Michael and start crying, fat, inconsolable sobs against his ugly sweater.

Michael holds you tight, reveling in the fact that you are in his arms, never mind the reason: you’ve opened up your heart to him, you’re seeking him for consolation! Not Jenny, not your best friend, but him! Because you know, in your heart of hearts, that Michael is the one for you!

He knows he’s awkward as he caresses your back and tries to murmur soothing words against your hair, but it doesn’t matter, not when all his hard work has come into fruition!

“I’m so sorry.” He hears from the general direction of his chest. “I don’t know what happened.” “That’s fine.” He answers, his arms still caging you. “Truly Michael, I don’t know what possessed me.”

When you finally manage to lift your head from his chest, you stare into his eyes, now dark pools your drunken brain can’t read.

Michael loses himself in your beautiful face and in the pain still marring your features: you need consolation and not the kind that words offer. He hadn’t planned all of this when he had followed you in the conference room, but you are in his arms, needy and sad and his cock is rock hard. You are causing all of this, he tells himself, because you need this and him. And he can’t say no to you.

His big hand sneaks into your hair to pull you closer to him; in your drunken state you don’t realize what’s happening, if not when his lips crash on yours, uncoordinated and dry. You try to push him away, to beg him to stop, but he uses your parted lips to slip his tongue in to deepen the kiss, his free hand grabs your hips and he pulls you on the table, slotting himself between your parted legs, his erection shocking you. When he starts kissing your neck, you try to push him away again, too drunk and weak to manage and he grabs your wrist in his big hand, to push you against the cold glass of the table; his free hand slips under your skirt and his fingers sneak under your panties.

“If you don’t want me, why are you so wet?”

He towers over you, his eyes unreadable behind his glasses and you can’t help but sob again: your drunken brain can’t find an adequate response, your body on fire after such a long time without another person’s touch.

Your body arches when his fingers slip inside your cunt, warm and wet, to fuck your hole hard and fast: he’s seen you masturbate so many times he knows how you like it, how you want his thumb on your clit, how to curl them to find your G spot and bully it, while you trash and cry, your muscles impossibly tight around him. He knows the sounds you’re making, those high pitched sobs that mean you’re close.

“Nooo…” You moan when his fingers leave your body.

Michael’s stare his cold and burns you at the same time, you have to hide your face because you can’t stand it deep into your soul; roughly he forces you to look at him.

“Look at me when I fuck you.” His palm cups your cunt cruelly. “You don’t get to come if you stop staring at me.”

Your drunken mind wants to come, wants an orgasm to take the pain away, it doesn’t matter who gives it to you, as long as your heart stops hurting. Then you will forget all about it.

A scared sound escapes your mouth when his big cock is revealed to you: you’ve never had anything so tick inside of you, you’re scared. Michael seems to revel in the fear he sees in your eyes, he can feel his erection grow with it, the knowledge that you’re finally at his mercy fueling his desire: you’re going to take all of him and be grateful that his seed will grow inside your belly, he’s going to give you all the time to adjust, but he’s coming inside of you and you with him.

Impatient he pulls your shirt and bra out of the way to free your beautiful breasts and he jacks himself faster at the sight of your tits. He bats your hands away when you try to cover yourself and curls one hand around a breast, until you cry out in pain.

“You’re all mine to see.” The vise on your breast is so tight he’s going to leave imprints. “Say it!”

You’re drunk and petrified, you don’t understand where this violence comes from, you just want to come and be done with all of this.

“I’m… I’m all yours to see.” You manage to say with tears threatening to fall from your eyes. “It wasn’t so hard.” Michael’s hand travels from your abused tit to your cheek to dry the tears already there. “I want to make you feel good, but you have to behave. Will you be my good girl?”

If you weren’t this drunk you’d fight him off you, scream bloody murder until someone comes to your rescue, but you’re drunk and desperately need all the human connection that you can scrape. You’d never sleep with Michael, not in a million years, but you’re not in your right mind and you just slump against the cool glass, incapable of stopping him.

Michael’s bulbous head nudges your wet entrance, slowly he slides in and groans at how wet you are; he hasn’t had many partners but no cunt has felt as perfect as yours, the ripple of your muscles as your body desperately tries to adjust to his size makes his blood boil, your pained moans and keens spur him on and his pushes become faster and faster, the more your cunt opens up for him. Desperate you try to relax, the pain of his intrusion mixes with pleasure, your drunken mind is confused, your body arches when he bottoms out and your eyes roll in their sockets: you’ve never been so full in your entire life.

Michael has to stop once he is sitting fully inside of you, your hole strangles his cock in ways no other cunt has ever managed, your nipples are erect with the pleasure he’s giving you and you’re making those small sounds that have him want to fuck you hard and fast, but he’s promised you pleasure, and he is no liar. Your tearful eyes are on him as he bends his back to envelope one nipple in his mouth to suck, gently, the other is getting pinched by his long fingers; slowly the pleasure mounts over the pain you’ve been feeling, your drunken body responds to his ministration and you moan, eyes on his as he switches between nipples with satisfied groans, your hips even lift to invite him to move, and he follows your movements, picking up speed when he feels your muscles give up to his ownership of your body.

You moan and keen when he picks up speed and he pulls your legs over his arms to fold you and fuck you faster, your wet cut squelches with every push, his cockhead bullies your G spot mercilessly and you try to squirm away, the pleasure too much and not enough. Michael bends against your body again and kisses you, tongue proprietary in your mouth he snuffs your scream when you come, your cunt so tight around his cock that he follows, copious in your hungry hole, and keeps fucking you, his erection still at full mast, fueled by your desperate sounds of overstimulation: he’s dreamed about this for too long to stop now.

You try to beg, to scream, but his hand around your throat cuts off your desperate prayers, your scratch his wrist and he simply fucks you harder, grinds against your poor clit tighter and your legs kick against his back, spurring him on: he knows you like it hard and even if you don’t? It’s what you’re getting now.

With a groan he pulls out and turns you face first on the table, fast he enters you again and grabs your tits to use your body as leverage to fuck your hole savagely, his hold the only reason your body is still up, your hands try to grab uselessly at the glass, his heavy balls slap against you and pleasure burns through you, painful it courses through your body and you squirm with it, tears falling from your eyes as his cock rapes your hole deeper and deeper, until he comes, panting your insides again, triggering your own orgasm.

You pant, the cold of the table nice against your over heated skin. Distantly you feel Michael’s lips on your nape, he’s leaving small kisses and nibbles on the soft skin, when you try to move you moan, your cunt curling around his still erect cock.

“Michael, please.” You beg, so sore already. “If you didn’t want me, why is your cunt strangling my cock?” He whispers cruelly in your ear.

Michael can’t believe his body can still be in need of yours, but he’s not going to say no, not when your cunt is massaging his erection so deliciously. Fast he removes his cock and plugs your cunt closed with his fingers, he can’t risk his seed to go to waste, not when he’s trying to knock you up; one handed he turns you on your back again and enters your hole with a groan: he’s found his home and he’s not going to leave it.

“Please Michael.” You sob. “I’m so sore!”

He cups your cheek and kisses you again. You submit to his ownership, afraid of triggering his rage; distantly a part of your brain is screaming that you don’t want this, that you should fight him, but you don’t have the strength to, not when you just want to forget your ex for a while ans are so scared of his rage: you will feel dirty afterwards and will drunk yourself in a stupor to forget, but that’s problems for future you, now you can't do anything else, you just want the pain to stop.

“I was too forceful, was I?” Michael caresses your body, already getting used to the feel of your skin under his. “I’ll go slow this time, love. Give me your last one and we’ll stop.”

For now, he thinks. He’s not done with marking all your holes as his.

“Don’t hurt me.” You sob, small and pathetic. “Never.”

His hips move slowly against yours, long and deep pushes that you feel everywhere in your body. His hands are at your breasts again, massaging them in tandem with his pushes inside of you; you squirm, your muscles sore with the abuse he’s subjected you to, your clit inflamed with the way he grinds against it, still sparks of pleasure explode in your muddled brain, your cunt clenches around him, pulling him in tighter and tighter, that he can’t help but grind against you, the image of the ring of his come and yours around his base and the squelch of your hungry hole spurring him on. He’s not going to last long and you’re coming with him again, sucking all your seed inside of you, until it takes. He’s going to fuck you through your pregnancy as well, his hips grind faster when he imagines the added pressure of your full belly and your tits, leaking milk he’s going to be all the happier to suck.

“No Michael please!” You beg when he starts fingering your clit. “Be my good girl.” He groans, punishing you with hard thrusts. “You’re going to come and drain my cock dry, or I’m not going to stop until you do.”

Your body arches at his words, the part of your mind that’s still coherent reels at the realization that he’s been fucking you bareback, your cunt clenches at the thought, tighter and tighter as he fucks your deeper and faster, until you come with a pained sob and he follows you, emptying his balls fully inside of you.

He stays rooted inside of you, willing his seed to take as your muscles massage his soft cock to the point of overstimulation; you’re a mess of tears and ruined make up under him, still too shook after so many orgasms, and he uses your fragility to enact the last part of his plan.

He grabs the glass and bottle still intact after your coupling and fishes for the small packet of drugs he’s bought on less than savory websites (the wonders of the deep web, if one knows where to look) and dissolves one capsule in the remaining alcohol. Gently he raises your head and forces you to drink everything: you need to be pliant for this part, he can’t risk you acting silly if you two meet some coworkers on the way out.

Once you’ve drunk everything, he stays inside of you, just enjoying your body as the drug takes effect, only then he’s going to dress you and help you back to your apartment, where he’s going to fuck you for the whole weekend. Hopefully his purchase will not be needed, but if you misbehave he’ll have to give some more of it, he needs you to be pliant, ready to follow his breeding project. As you stare at him with glassy eyes, Michael decides he’s going to drug you anyway and once the effects drain off your system, hopefully you’ll buy his story, that you two went on a weekend binge of alcohol and sex. If things will go as he’s planned, come Sunday you’ll be embarrassed and he will buy you breakfast and ask you out on a proper date, if you start complaining, then he has to use plan B, the one he had devised when he had found out you had a fiancé. You don’t know it, but if you are going to be a silly goose, he’s going to hide you away in the small farm out in the country he’s bought under a false name (he is a man who needs little to survive and has managed to put away a big sum easily), until he can break you and remake you into his perfect little wife. He will have to lock you in the basement for a time and use the fake posts he’s prepared in advance to justify you disappearing from your life, but he’s positive that’s not going to be needed: you are his other half, after all.

[bahrtofane]

Promises under the stars pt2

Tag list - @leanastarkey

@moonlightbaesstuff

Part 1. READ THIS IS U HAVENT PLEASEEE

Part 1 Jude pov

—-

Jude Bellingham x reader , Carlos Sainz x reader

Word count - 11k+ (I’m sorry. )

Watch it -angst. Talks of pregnancy, divorce. Kinda stalkerish behavior ? This one’s a little all over the place ngl.

Many of you and probably wondering who this man is. Don’t worry you will find out soon ^^

The long await pt 2 my god it’s finally done ENJOYYYYYYY

——————-

Jude is 6. He's clumsy, he's full of wonder. He sits in a field picking at flowers and grass while you sit on your stomach watching the bugs dance. He likes you a whole lot. He thinks you're very nice and his mommy said that you're always welcome. He wonders what will be for lunch. He doesn't know what will come much later

The rage hasn't found him yet. It will. On a cloudy afternoon when he sees you standing hand in hand with a boy you swore to hate. Hot knots form in his stomach when he sees you smile at him. He wants to punch him square in the mouth.

He’s 10. And it's only the start.

It will find him again. When he's much older, floating around through his life. Floating isn't the right word, there's nothing soft about it. When he's being dragged by it. By force. Kicking and screaming as pleads tumble from his lips to just go back to the field one more. This time he’ll pay attention he screams. He promises.

Just one more time. Anything to relive it over again. To make things right with you. To at least own up to what he's done. One chance.

It will never come. He knows and yet he still tries.

On Judes 25th birthday does the rage visit him once more. Almost like an old friend if there was anything friendly about it. This time he’s sitting in his shower, letting the water pelt his skin as he cries. There’s no soft touch of friendship to accompany the lashings.

It's a dull pain, one that starts at his throat while he tries to hold back sobs. His body betrays him, lips cracking as he tries to use his hand to bite back each cry. It spreads down to his chest, heaving breaths trying to take in as much air as he can without swallowing any water.

It proves to be too great, he starts to sputter and cough, getting up and leaning against the walls of his shower. Turning his face from the shower head. He still can't breathe. The tightness in his chest only grows till its the weight of his actions pressed against him.

It moves till his hands are shaking, and his legs are having a hard time keeping him up. He turns the shower head down to only hit his feet, sitting down in the showers built in seat.

Oh how he misses the fields.

—--

You miss the fields.

There are days when you drive by just to feel something if not feel like yourself. No matter how old or far away the self might be. It's still you, isn't it.

You wonder what life would've been without him. No fields in the summer and chasing through grass till you couldn't anymore.

His mother told you once when you were much younger, perhaps kinder, that you were always welcome. She said it as a passing comment while handing you a plate of cookies while Jude was already half way done with his.

Neighbors. You were neighbors. You forgot.

What more will you forget? Bits of pieces of your past that will fizzle away only to be brought out now and again. There will be a time where you won't remember, you know. Perhaps that will be a good thing. Make it easier on everyone that way.

You still miss the past. You miss them. Before everything went the way it is now.

You will miss them some more.

You're set to leave. Moving out of Birmingham on your birthday. You think it's too symbolic, but things just ended up this way.

You spend the night before smoking till you can't see straight. When did you pick the habit up you don't know. You bounce between cigarettes and weed. Whatever's available.

It calms you down, you say to no one in particular, white stick hanging loose from your lips as you look at your bare apartment. Curled up on the floor in a blanket. Your hair is wet. You just showered. You think youll go to sleep with it wet. You're so tired. You don't even stay up till 12 to see the birthday messages pour in.

Pouring in is an exaggeration. You only get a few when you wake up, bright and early. Mainly from family along with the gifts they got you earlier in the week. Your birthday gifts go neatly in a suitcase as you head to your new life in London. You thought about moving out of the country, somewhere far away and perhaps tropical. Nice beaches and clear skies to wander under. But you like your familiarity. And the job offer came just at the right time. So here you are.

Packing the last bit of cake from this morning in tupperware.

Your birthday was rushed this year. You weren't going to do anything till settling into your new place, but your friends insisted on doing something at your home one last time. So at a brisk 9 am your friends fill your apartment for the fastest birthday you've ever had. Cake set on the table, hat placed on your head, candles set ablaze as you make a wish. Eyes closed and begging.

You wish for things with Jude to be as they once were. You wish for him to find his way back to you. You wish to be welcome again. For the fields to kiss the tips of your fingers as you run your hands through the grass. You wish to never forget. You wish for peace. As foolish as that might be.

A click of a camera makes your eyes open. Hugs and kisses as you get passed around. There's people here you don't even recognize but you try not to be too grumpy. They all help out anyway. Cleaning up any last bits of dust and dirt and traces of you from the cream walls.

Once upon a time the same space would have held Jude, celebrating with you and wishing for more years to bless you.

But now it's completely empty, everyones left. And soon you will too.

You've decided to drive the way to London. You packed most things into the small cargo trailer that attaches to your car. The rest lat minute things go in your actual car. Snug as a bug.

Your family stops by for some last goodbyes and birthday wishes, making sure you have what you need, and off you go.

You haven't cried the whole day, not for the weeks leading up to the move. But for some reason the second you pull your car onto the road you're a mess. You dont get more than 15 minutes before you have to pull over and just sob.

Why? You pretend like you don't know. Pretend to lay in oblivious embrace by your own stupidity. But you know, oh how you know.

The same face never seems to stop from tormenting you. You bring your own misery. And you can not stop. Almost entranced by the dance that brings your own demise.

It’s Jude. has been for as long as you can remember now. Seems like it'll remain as such. Even after the whole marriage fiasco. You can not look away, not for a second. Not letting your tormented soul know a moment's rest in favor of knowing his joy. It's hard to move on so you live through twitter updates of his life and the occasional news article. Feeding off of second hand news of a man whose words used to be pressed against your skin till he was all you could feel, see, reach, touch, know.

His warmth has long seeped away from your skin. If you close your eyes just right, you can swear you still feel it.

You wonder if his wife knows this. Funny enough there's enough divorce rumors to actually make you laugh. It brings you the closest thing to ease you can feel nowadays. The possibility of his marriage ending.

You spend your time being chased by the ghosts of your past, by the shadow of Jude you swear you always see from the corner of your eye. The feeling of his hand on your back guiding you through crowds.

His wife, who you find out to be a girl named Kaylie, cannot go a week without arguing with him somewhere public and it is getting plastered all over social media and tabloids. It seems like the media has long since forgotten about you. Which is good you guess.

Has he forgotten about you? Does his memory fail him as well?

Does he keep all your memories somewhere far away from here? Or does he keep them close. Nothing more than an arms length away for him to bring to life once more.

There are days where you grieve for the life you once lived so violently it scares you. Caught up in the past and unable to truly move on.

Other days are better, and you think not of the man who once had your heart.

You hope to have more of those days.

You wipe the tears from your cheeks, freshening up and doing a once over in the rear view mirror. It's time to get going. Not just from your old home, your city, but everything it holds. All it means.

It's time to leave Jude behind the way he did to you.

—--

London is quick and crowded. You find a rhythm against the rain that beats the streets. Find your footing on the pathways. Even if you miss your home, and the familiarity of your old life.

Your new place is much smaller. No large living room. Smaller bathroom. But you love it. It feels much better. Free of your past. Untouched and only known to you.

It takes ages to move in fully, and you don't even have all that much stuff. The trailer proves to be a little bit of a hassle getting into your parking garage but you make it in one piece. The first day you only bring your suitcase full of pjs and essentials. You don't start work for a week. You have time.

In the meantime you explore. Scouting out cafes and grocery stores. You do a little shopping spree by the third day. You get sick of take out, making a few favorite dishes while you people watch from the balcony in your bedroom (you have one in your living room too!).

On the fourth do you actually move in all of your things. It takes multiple trips up and down the elevator from the underground parking garage to your building's lobby and then up to your floor. But you do it. All by yourself.

You get the main things out and sorted, leaving the decor for last. You have an in unit washer and dryer which is really nice. It came fully furnished so there was no need to bring any of your old things with you so you sold them. Couch and table and all. Good riddance.

By the 6th day you're completely moved in. and the place starts looking like yours. You settle in for a movie scrolling through work emails and any last minute things to get done.

You actually did it huh.

—--

Your new workplace is vibrant. So you find colorful hues to pick at, pass your time with. One particular color comes in the form of Carlos. He's red, you decide.

He’s a few years older than you. Lips are usually pressed into a thin line, concentrating on all that's around him. Or on some days you find them to be cracked in an easy smile. He's experienced and been around the block of many things. He's warm and inviting, chatting with anyone with a smile and ease. So different from the Madrid star boy that plagues you.

You come to learn Madrid is Carlos’s home town. How fun. You don’t take it to heart.

He guides you where you stumble or hesitate at the office. Always happy to lend a helping hand. You learn that he's very high up on the pecking order. The kind of high up that doesn't even clock in. But it doesn't stop him from treating you like an old friend.

You're not back to your usual self, not yet at least. And you have a hunch that he picks up on that. When your gaze falls to the floor he doesn't reprimand you. Nor when you tend to space out. He lets you move at your own pace, it's all unbelievably kind. Especially considering you just got here.

He was the one to do your first day orientation actually.

“If you need anything at all feel free to find me, i'm usually in my office down the hall,” he handed you a little welcome basket filled with goodies. Soft smile while he guided you to your desk.

He’s intimidating at first. Tall, large, handsome. It's easy to feel out of place next to him and his fancy tailored suits. His walk that never falters and voice. You like his accent. You told him as much on the first day, you probably shouldn't have. Too much right? He didn't seem to mind all that much. Sheepishly smiling and mumbling a thank you before going back to setting up your email.

You noticed the way he kept picking at his nails the rest of the time.

In truth he’s anything but intimidating. He's kind to you, gentle. Never once making an advance, a comment, a passing glance. Everything is strictly professional.

—--

Your gaze is starting to flicker to Carlos. Uh oh trouble trouble.

You read up on code and triple checked with HR policies. And since he's not your direct supervisor, there's nothing stopping you from pursuing him. He's technically not in the same department as you (took you a month to figure that out). They just placed him here to help out in the meantime. Everyone's short staffed you guess.

You won't be making any moves, romance is the very last thing you need right now. You haven’t even recovered from the last one. Besides you don’t even know how to love anyone else but Jude. He’s the only one you’ve ever known.

You arrent ready to learn how to love someone else. Will never be ready you fear.

All this and it's hard not to get jittery when Carlos walks by. Just look at the man.

He is so sure of everything it seems. Not afraid to speak up but he's not aggressive either. He's found the perfect balance and you can't help but admire it.

The way he smiles at you makes your heart leap to your throat, even if you know the same smile is mirrored to everyone else in the office. You don't really care.

Smile at me again, you want to say, smile just for me.

You think you have a crush.

Oh you're so screwed.

—--

Carlos has found his way over to your desk at the start of each morning. Briskly walking by, poking his head into your cubicle and asking you how you're doing.

He's sweet. Too sweet. It's making getting over him even worse.

“How are you doing today?” he says, greeting you with a smile.

“Good! Just finished all the work I needed to get caught up on.” you turn your monitor to show him.

He hums, “amazing thank you. You can send everything over at once at the end of the day.”

You nod, making a note of it on your sticky notes, covered in little flower doodles you’ve mad to pass the time between meetings and what not. He tries not to smile too hard at this. He thinks you're a perfect addition.

—--

“Oh come on make a move.” your friend groans over the phone.

You roll your eyes, setting your phone down on your desk and tidying things up in your room. It’s bed time and some peace and quiet is the last thing on her mind it seems.

“i’m not gonna do that.” you grumble, playing with the strings on your pjs.

“why, he’s perfect!”

“Remember the last time I said that about a man?”

Silence.

—-—-

It's late when you finally finish up the paperwork for the day. Closing your 30 some tabs and sighing in relief when you sign out of your desktop, clocking out for the day. Your knees hurt and you think you have a cramp somewhere on your calf. Perfect perfect perfect.

There's not a peep in the office anymore. Everyone save for the janitor has gone home. Well everyone but Carlos, who sits in his office typing away and answering the occasional phone call.

You know he's no stranger to staying late but this is the first time it's only been the two of you. In fact, he stayed behind in order to help you out. What a strange reaction your stomach does. He stayed for you. You you you. Hm.

You had refused at first, but he only waved you off, telling you to send the documents his way and that was that. He's been in there since noon, and you are so grateful. Yes you’re new, yes you learn fast but jeez a little help is always appreciated. It came in the form of a very persistent Carlos, who are you to say no.

You gather your belongings and make your way to Carlos's office. Door just open enough for you to see him squinting at his laptop. Chewing his bottom lip and tapping his foot against the tile of the floor now and again. His suit jacket lays on the back of his chair, white dress shirt sleeves rolled up enough to watch his arms flex while he types. You swallow hard.

"Hey, Carlos," you say, your voice breaking the silence of the empty office.

He looks up, offering you smile but you don’t miss the way it falters at the edges. He’s tired. "Hey, heading out?" he asks, his voice soft in the silence that surrounds you. Gruff around the edges from not speaking as much as he’s used too.

"Yeah, just finished up," you reply, a small smile playing on your lips.

He nods, his attention returning to his computer screen for a moment before he stands up, stretching his arms above his head.

“I appreciate you sticking around to help me out," you finally say, breaking the silence.

Carlos shrugs, his smile turning slightly sheepish. "Hey, no problem. We're a team, right?"

You smile back, an odd feeling blooming in your chest. "Right." You begin to slip away from his door frame but his voice stops you.

"Mind if I walk you out?" he offers, gathering up his things.

“Oh I wouldn't want you to go out of your way.” you wave.

“Nonsense,” he shakes his head, “its pitch black out and its dead empty. It's not safe. What kind of supervisor would I be if I didn't?”

You hold back a frown, right. He's your “supervisor”, not much more. You hesitate, looking outside floor to ceiling windows. Covered in the pitch black expanse of night. It does give you the creeps. You haven’t been in the parking garages this late.

“Okay,” you nod. Just loud enough for him to hear.

He cracks a smile, swinging his suit jacket back on and heading out.

He walks at a much more leasuriy pace while you weave your way out of the cubicle and offices that line the hallways. You find yourself falling into an easy conversation with Carlos. He asks about your transition to London, your thoughts on the city so far, the usual small talk.

“Which garage do you park in?” he asks when you reach the elevator.

You lean against the wall,”the C one, 3rd floor.”

He nods, pressing the buttons and humming under his breath.

It scares you, just how fast Carlos has made his way into your life. Made his presence known. As if he's saying look at me, I'm here to stay. But is he truly?

Maybe you really are going crazy. Who knows anymore.

And as you step out into the cool night air, the rain misting softly against your skin, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you're starting to leave Jude behind. Genuinely this time. Oh if you can just stop thinking of him.

Carlos isn't a bad replacement by any means. Some would even call him an upgrade. He's made London seem not so daunting anymore. Ever more so apart as he walks you right up to your car, wishing you a good night with a small nod and smile.

But a part of you simply just can’t move on.

—---

Carlos sits next to you at a work dinner. Fancy restaurant that's all paid for. Something to celebrate the recent great work. How can you say no to free food?

A few others from your department are here, names you don’t bother to repeat. You know a handful of girls at the table have eyes on Carlos, thanks to the printing room gossip.

Especially a very cat like Jessica who’s cubical is right across from yours. According to Janice from accounting, she’s been trying to get with him for ages, and no matter what she does Carlos always turns her down and attention back to work. You had laughed the first time you were told about the infamous coffee fiasco that apparently everyone and their mother has heard.

Janice had told you while you walked out together to your cars. Giggling the whole time.

“Oh you should have seen it. Jessica walks into his office back first holding a coffee and runs into a share holder who’s walking out at the same time. Boom her white blouse gets absolutely drenched. The best part? Carlos didn’t give a damn.” She snickered.

Jessica now sits across from you, tight black dress on and her signature head of burgundy hair shining in the lights that shine above you.

You had expected at least some drama from her, especially when you were told you were invited by Carlos personally. But no. Nothing. Not even when the meal ends and everyone says they good byes.

You take this as your chance to talk to him more privately, to at least thank him for being so kind to you.

So when the chatting dies down and he pulls out the company card from his wallet, you turn to talk to him more. Everyone is getting up out of their seats at this point. Grabbing purses and shuffling for the door. But you stay behind, leaning what's probably far too close into his personal space, and speaking only when you know none of your coworkers are watching.

You lean in closer to Carlos, he smells good, as always. Tailored suit framing him all too well. Your heart is beating a little faster, faster than you'd like. Much too fast to just thank him for being nice for heavens sake. For a moment you think he can hear it through your dress. It's red, though it would match him well.

The servers flash by you but you register nothing but his gaze, the way it flickers to you as you move. Time slows you think, while you try to swallow around the bile that builds in your throat. Speak.

"Carlos," you begin, your voice soft, "I just wanted to thank you for always being there for me. I really appreciate it."

His lips curve into a gentle smile, his eyes meeting yours with warmth. "It's my pleasure," he gives you a small nod, tucking the company card back into his wallet.

Encouraged by his response, you continue, "I... I've been thinking a lot lately about how lucky I am to have you as a colleague. You make everything seem so much easier and I cant thank you enough for how kind you've been to me. Especially joining half way through the quarter. “

As you speak, you notice a subtle shift in Carlos's demeanor, a flicker of something else in his eyes as nods for you to continue.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is..." you pause, your heart racing, “thank you for taking your time with me.” The words come out too fast and jumbled together but they’re out.

His brows furrow so quickly you almost miss it. But they’re replaced with a smile faster than you can blink. His expression softens further, his gaze holding yours. "That's very sweet of you," his voice barely above a whisper.

You wring your hands in your lap, sweating bullets as you hang on to each world that tumbles from his lips.

"Im very glad I could help, and that you think so highly of me. It’s always my goal to help everyone.” He finishes, getting out of his seat and wishing you a good night.

—--

Something shifts after the dinner.

Maybe it’s Jessica who leaves for a neighboring branch in France. Or things slowing down enough for you to pick up new hobbies and think about getting a cat. You’d like a cat. Something to care for, look after. Love.

Or maybe it's the new way that Carlos looks at you.

He’s been…different to say the least. He spends more time at your cubicle than any other. He sends you coffee every morning. He doesn’t even get on you for scrolling through Pinterest when your work is done, as long as its done he does not care. It’s to the point that dear old Janice has picked up on it and even asked you.

”So Carlos huh.” She laughed one day while you were picking up your files.

“Huh?” Like a deer in headlights.

”Oh come on he might as well camp out at your cubical you two are very obvious.”

You blinked. Once. Twice.

”We aren’t together?”

Janice thought you were lying for a solid week before she actually believed you. So yes things have taken a turn. Not good, not at all. You thought thanking him for his kindness would be it for you. A way to confess without actually confessing.

You don’t want anything to do with romance. Not for the next 30 years. You are so so good.

——

You stop responding to the kind words and you feel horrid. So so horrid. You thanked him and now you don't look him in the eye when he does the same things you praised. You shut yourself into a cage refusing to even acknowledge that he exists. Only talking to him when you have to. And even then you’re curt on a good day.

It becomes too much all too much for you to bear being around him for more than a minute.

You can’t do it, you just can’t. It feels so wrong. Like you’re just like Jude if not worse.

You scroll through his instagram on bad days. Unblocking him just to end up crying when you scroll down to that damn post yet again. Just married. You want to comment kill your self but you don’t want to get your account banned.

You click on his story by accident, he's on some island. You hope the plane crashes.

You probably need therapy.

And Carlos, sweet sweet Carlos, never takes your sour mood to heart. You wish he would give up. For your sake. For his sake.

“His” sake. It’s not Carlos.

——-

You aren't even dating. Not seeing each other, not involved. And he never stops trying. Never once is unkind to you.

You know if you’d outright tell him to stop he would in a heart beat. But you don’t, letting him continue the dance alone. People in the office have noticed and started taking a dislike to you. If only they knew the half of it.

You say yes to going out after pictures of Jude and his wife on vacation break out.

“I wont force you if you don’t actually want to.” Carlos sheepishly scratches the back of his neck.

You give him a timid mile, “I want to, trust me.”

Even if the want is only wanting to move on.

“Committed to our marriage.”

You still don't truly hate him.

——

He doesn't know of your history with the man. You don't want him too. Especially considering Carlos is prpbbaly the biggest Real Madrid fan to ever exist. Madrid is his home town for fucks sake. It’s like a big joke is being played on you. You don’t find it funny.

A part of you is just using him as a placeholder. Holding out hope. Hope for what you're not all too sure about.

For a man who abandoned you to come back and make it all better?

Your new lover you feel pity for. You're a lost cause. A stick in the mud. You shy away from the most basic of things. Holding hands, hugs, an arm around your shoulder.

He still doesn't give up on you. You wish he would.

Carlos doesn’t care that you can’t stomach kissing him just yet. He’s happy to wait, to take it step by step.

“I just, I can't Carlos. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Well take it at your speed. I promise.” A smile.

Carlos is kind to you, even when you're not the same back.

He goes back to his department come winter, and you see much less of him at work. It makes you miss him oddly. No random pop ins and your favorite drink in his hand.

No asking how your days been at lunch. No running into each other when you’re both in the printing room. Giving eachother shy smiles.

Hm.

——

You learn Carlos is a big gift giver. He spoils you. He only wants you to have and experience the best. Always on his arm showing you off. There’s no hiding with him, no forced to duck out of the way in case of cameras. He always pays when you go out, and always a little bag in his car waiting for you.

”Carlos getting me jewelry every time you see me is too much.” You frown. Sliding into the passenger of his rather adorable Volkswagen Golf.

“You don’t like jewelry?” He frowns, sliding his seat belt on.

“No I love it I just feel bad you spend too much on me.” You sigh.

”Please take it from me, it really is nothing. I want to give you even more.” A chuckle fall from his lips.

You learn in the same week that his family owns the damn company. “Why the hell didn't you tell me?’

he shrugs, “it's what I liked so much about you. You didn’t know and it didn’t affect how you saw me, treated me.”

”I feel so stupid Carlos.” You mope.

—-

Life is easy with Carlos. He’s grown on you and you open up. Piece by piece and taking your time. He leaves no room for doubt. Always there to guide you with a hand on your back, pinkies intertwined.

His successes are yours, and yours are his. You cry together. You celebrate together.

At events he brings you on stage with him to bring good news about the company. Toasting with you by his side. The days with him are good to you. And they turn to months.

You meet his family when things get serious. And you try not to let the past influence you too much.

What if they hate you? What if it's a repeat of everything you tried so hard to leave behind? What if his mother refuses to see your face?

He only reassures you with soft kisses and warm smiles. “They’re going to love you. Just be you. “

Just be you.

——-

You take a trip to the countryside of Spain for the weekend. At the cusp of spring, to meet his family. You fly first class, your first time, and knock out for half the time. He holds your hand the entire time, rubbing his thumb along your skin while he tells you more about his childhood. You even learn a few phrases in Spanish, you hope your accent isn’t too awful.

When you get to the winding driveway that gives way to the most picturesque white house on a hill you try not to gasp. It’s gorgeous.

His mother immediately welcomes you with a crushing hug when you step out of the Uber, boasting about how gorgeous you are.

You meet his two sisters, Blanca the oldest, and Anna the youngest.

They greet you with wide smiles, excited to have you. Leading you to the patio of the villa to chat. Carlos insists on taking your bags while you bond with his family. You give him a look while hes half way through the door with both bags in hand.

“Go go i'm sure they want to gossip!” He shouts from the base of the stairs.

You sigh, shaking your head at him with a smile while his sisters take you to the living room.

“We've been dying to meet you!” Anna giggles.

“Carlos never stops talking about you, you know. That already speaks volumes he's a private guy.” Blanca adds.

You give a nod, ”I'm happy to be here. He talks about you guys all the time too, good to put faces to the names.”

“Come we’ll show you around.” Anna gets up.

And you follow. Meeting the dogs and watching Carlos kick around an old golf cart till he gives up and heads back inside.

You meet his father who gives you a tight hug.

“You like golf?” He has a club in hand.

“I never actually played.”

“Carlos you haven't taught her?!” He gives his son a scowl, “Come, I'll teach you.”

So you do. Spending hours in the Spanish sun trying to learn technique.

“She might be better than you Carlos!” his dad laughs when you get the ball right into the hole.

He sits on one of the patio chairs, drink in hand, arms splayed on either side.

“Maybe she'll beat your record.” He hums. Eyes crinkling while he watches you chase down balls that you hit too far.

The afternoon winds down and you find a seat next to him.

“Have fun mi amor?” Pressing a kiss to your hand.

“Golf is actually kinda hard.” You huff.

He laughs,”not too bad though right?”

You shake your head, “no it was fun!”

“That's good. We're going to start the grill up in a few. What are you feeling burgers or kebab?’

You hum, taping your index finger on your chin, “anything you want is fine by me.”

He gets up, giving your head a pat, “kebab it is,” heading over to where the large grill sits against the stone wall.

You head inside to find his mom getting plates out.

“Anything I can help with?”

“Oh no honey you're our guest, go relax.” she waves.

“No please, it's really nothing.”

“Nonsense!”

“I insist you all have been too kind.” you try.

She places a hand on her hip, ”fine fine. You can help me get the table set.”

And you do just that.

You stick around in the kitchen helping Carlos make the actual kebabs. Grinding the meat while you hand it off to him to mix in the spices and assorted greens to the mix.

Next he shapes them using his thumb and first two fingers, squeqwering the meat into each wooden stick and setting them in the fridge in batches.

When the grill is up to temperature, in they go with vegetables and steaks.

You eat surrounded by laughter and warm smiles. Your belly is warm and full, and it's not just the amazing food.

His family shower you in so much love it feels like you’ve known them for ages. Soft smiles and preening at your compliments. His mother says yoy fit right in and his sister are happy to have another girl.

By the end of the night his dad is calling you his daughter.

—--

Jude has a rare few days off. Nothing on his plate, nothing to do. It comes unexpectedly. The fault of bad plannning, mismanagement, something like that. He didn’t listen past when they told him days off. Music to his ears.

Kaylie has been kinder to him, and hes been able to stomach being around her more and more. If not for her for his child.

They might be married but he holds no love for her. Nothing at all. How can he? But that doesn’t mean he cant at least try to put an effort to make things work. The very last thing he wants is for his baby to be stuck between homes or worse yet ages away from him. Not knowing who he really is and fed lies by Kaylie. He knows how she is.

Cunning, sly. Add fur and she’d be a fox.

He picks and chooses his battles and today he chooses peace. Getting some flowers and her favorite take out place on the way home.

He comes home to his house dark and void of any signs of her. The curtains are drawn, the tv off, so is the ac. Hm. No ones home.

He gives Kaylie a call, but it goes to voicemail. She does this often, ignoring him and doing what she wants. He doesn’t really care. She’s most likely out shopping again.

He sighs, setting the bags down on the counter and heading to his-their- room.

At the foot of the bed there’s a grey satchel looking thing. He doesn’t remember seeing that. And he’s not one to snoop but its in his bed, left out among a few clothes. Maybe its the maids and she forgot? Hm.

When he picks it up there’s some weight to it, the draw string come undone as he moves it close and out tumbles a silicone sheet.

Brows furrowed he picks it off the ground, turning it in his hands. It’s realistic, like it was made to mimic human skin. Bumps and ridges along one side while the underside is smooth. It tapers off on either side to make two Velcro ends. There’s a belly button in the middle.

When he realizes what it is, Jude wants to throw up.

The past year flashes in his mind till hes reeling. He cant see, tumbling back into his bed as he clutches the sheets.

The fake silicon baby bump tumbles out of his grasp and onto the floor, flopping like its laughing at him. Mocking him for being so god damn stupid.

The rage he’d tried to hard to ignore, to wipe out from his body rises up like a summer heat. Trapping him in his own body till hes blinded. He throws whatever he can see. Trashing the room. He can barely breathe.

In his own home hes been made an idiot. Under his own roof that he pays for he worked he that he built from the ground up hes been manipulated. His movements slow till he feels like a single cloud after a storm. Aimlessles floating looking for pourpse.

Jude leaves the house in an instant, taking pictures and tucking the item into his back seat. He’s going to his lawyer. Now. He needs a divorce.

——-

Kaylie dismisses every accusation. Calls him a lair, every name under the sun.

He has cameras in his home, a detail she never knew of. He got them installed before he even moved in. They work in his favor as his lawyer brings up the footage. His mother is seen brining bags inside and setting them down onto the table. And out comes a box, and out of the box, the satchel.

His mother bought it for her.

She admits to it when called up. Shrugging like it’s the most natural thing she’s done. A choice as easy as breathing. To fate her son to such misery. To betray.

The divorce happens. Even after it takes weeks. He leaves her.

Why don't you pick up?

——-

Carlos proposes in the same time frame that Jude divorces. While you celebrate with his family you see the news. It’s everywhere, plastered on every site and app and news outlet. Jude Bellingham divorced. A younger part of you feels excistatic. And the current you tastes something sour in your mouth while you read the headlines.

A part of you took Carlos as a placeholder. But you gave up, no more waiting. And now that the wait is over and you are to married? There is nothing left to say, want, need.

It’s so wrong. All so wrong. You have a fiancé.

He’s more than sweet enough. And yet, in every moment spend with him, there’s a humming on the back of more mind filled with fields and stadiums.

You wonder if he thinks the same. If he keeps up with you in any way. You wonder if your engagement has made him feel anything. You hope it has.

A part of you hopes his divorce came as a result of your own news. But who knows.

—--

When you find yourself in Madrid you’re greeted by a family that has become your own. They call you the jewel of the family. Proudly showing you off. It’s hard to think of anything else.

His mother takes you to get your nails done with her while you catch up.

“How is Carlos treating you?”

“Oh he’s lovely. You raised him extraordinarily.” You smile.

She preens, promising to take you on the coast when the weather is warmer. Go out for a swim even. Anything you’d like.

You get matching colors and walk out arms linked and smiling.

——

You learn that Carlos, before you, had given up on love. It was a thing he dreamed of. A thing unable to attain. Something akin to the stars. There to see, not to touch. Never to have or to know fully.

He had whispered it to you in the darkness of his room after a homemade dinner. The best pasta you’ve ever had. The compliments made him blush and get all jittery. It’s adorable.

“I just never thought I would be able to have this.” He breathed out.

You gave him a firm kiss, cupping your hands to his cheeks. “I’m the one who should be saying that. You’re amazing Carlos. You amaze me everyday. I’m so lucky to have you. To love you.”

A beat of silence. Sniffles. “I adore you.” He mumbles out while he tucks his head into the crook of your neck. Gentle hands combing through his hair.

That hes had his fair share of flings and unserious girls around him. Only about two he’s actually brought around his family. On whim and a half baked thought turned to full trip. And those ended in a dumpster fire apparently.

“It was so out of no where he never talked about her and then he calls saying hes brining this girl over.” Anna waves her fork in hand.

Today they’ve come to visit London and you’re out for dinner just the three of you. Carlos is working late and he insisted you go meet them at the resurant.

“Send me pics!’ Was his only request while you gave him a kiss at the door.

“Oh she asked for a promotion almost 20 minutes in.” Blanca rolls her eyes.

Anna nods, “i don’t remember her name but I remember her horrid sneer. Like she was part shark or something. Creepy. I think Carlos was just trying to prove that he could love since both of us are already married.”

Prove that he could love.

But he loves so easy it’s hard to wrap you mind around. Someone so lovely and sweet having trouble. Your heart aches for him. Both of you have had shit luck previously huh.

——

The middle of summer you get introduced to the annual family reunion dinner of sorts.

“It’s nothing crazy dont worry. Just grilling and more Sainz at the house.” He assures you.

So you pack up again and head to Spain. He always gives you the window seat. Puts all the carryons into the over head bins for the both of you.

It’s nice, being able to turn your brain off for once.

The dinner is a whole affair you come to learn. You’re in the kitchen prepping with everyone while both Carlos senior and junior get to setting up more tables on the patio.

The theme is white this year. You brought two white dresses just in case.

The chaos soon dissolves into a steady rhythm as the prep comes to a close and you wait for guests to start arriving. You get changed in one of the spare rooms they’ve given you each time you come. Stepping down the stairs to a crowd.

His family is very very big. Huge even. All pouring in the property in fancy cars and watches on their wrists that cost more than your yearly rent. Yikes.

You shrink on yourself, sticking to the kitchen and absentmindedly rearranging plates and taking a seat at the dinning tables as you watch the greetings from the windows.

His mother spots you. In a gorgeous sleek jumpsuit and white shawl to match.

“Oh you look lovely.” She beams.

When you don’t return the ethusiam she frowns. “What’s wrong my dear?”

You look away bashfully. “Nothing at all.” Forcing a smile.

She takes a seat next to you, taking your hands in hers. “Nonsense. You can talk to me. I promise you’re a daughter to me.”

You sigh, turning to face her. “You’re whole family is so lovely. So grand. I feel like I'm not enough or I don't belong sometimes.” You admit, wringing your hands in your lap.

Her brows furrow, “you’re a part of the family my love. My Carlos loves you, so do the rest of us. That alone means you belong. Not to mention what a gem you are. You’re an exceptional woman with both your character and achievements. Don’t sell yourself short.” A hand squeezes your shoulder and you look at her with so much appreciation you might cry.

“Thank you so much Ms Sainz, really. You’ve welcomed me so sweetly. I'm so honored. “

She rises out of her seat, taking your hand in hers as she guides you to the door. “Come now, we’ll walk out together. Don’t worry i wont leave you till you say so. “

You give her another great full smile, taking a fabric of your dress in one hand and head out to greet the rest of your family.

——-

You sit nestled next to Carlos and his mother. At the end of the table while the maids handle plating and serving the food. You’re emmesnly greatful there is no grilling to be done on your end in the white dress that trails on the floor.

Carlos gives you a smile among the chatter that surrounds the two of you. His mother rises, and in an instant all eyes are on her. You hope one day you can command half as much attention as she does.

She says most of her words in Spanish, a few you catch onto (Carlos has been teaching you here and there. Giggling at your accent but you’re getting there!)

She raises her glass and the last part comes out in English. “We thank everyone for coming. You all are welcome here, as our guests and as a part of the family.” Sending you a smile at the last bit. You can't help giving her a wide smile in return. Reaching your eyes and so big it hurts your cheeks but you don't care. You’re so happy to be here.

Carlos gives your hand a squeeze under the table, eyes crinkling into. Familar smile.

Something clicks for a moment.

You let nostalgia and familiarity cloud your judgment and hold on to a man with no real sense of direction in his life. Pushing away Carlos. Sweet sweet Carlos who only wanted to love.

——-

You mention your apartment being stuffy and within the week there are an unfamiliar set of keys sitting on your living room coffee table. A red string tied into a bow on them is the only thing that accompanies them.

You know exactly who it’s from.

You call him and he picks up immediately. “Hey baby.” There’s a curl to his voice. He’s smiling.

“Carlos. What’s with the keys?

He hums, “they’re for you.”

“What?”

”You know if you ever get tired of your place. You have a house now. If you want it under your name let me know I’ll send the papers over.” Said with the most casual tone in the world. Like he dropped off flowers instead of keys to a house.

“I’m not following.” Thumbing the keys in your hand.

“I bought you a house. If you dont like it- “

”I love you.” You blurt.

He giggles on the other end. “I love you too.”

He helps you get moved in on the weekend while you hold back tears the whole time.

——-

You go out to dinner for your birthday. Fancy restaurant on a rooftop. He brings a camera and takes so many pictures you worry he’ll have no more storage after this.

Both of you are matching red. You in a floor length dress and him in a suit with red detailing at the seams. Just enough to catch the light. Just enough to make it obvious that you two are a pair. It’s cute.

You eat in comfortable silence while the sun sets. Many kisses shared.

“How does dessert sound?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Sounds lovely. Where are you thinking?”

”Little ice scream shop down the road? The one with all the toppings you like.”

You smile, “yes please.”

You figure there’s no need to get to the valet so instead you get on electric scooters, laughing while you ride down the side walks through the night.

You know you probably look immensely silly. In fancy dress zooming past pedestrians while you can't stop laughing but you don't really care. You’re happy. You’re so happy.

——

You marry Carlos in his family home under the Spanish sun no more than 2 years later. Your family is ecstatic, his mother can't stop crying from joy.

“You’re the greatest thing to happen to my Carlos.” She weeps while bringing a hand to your cheek.

It makes you cry till the makeup artist has to come in and make everything right again.

You walk down the isle and it feels like a dream. Carlos cries while watching you walk to him. His lip wobbles during the vows and you barely hold it together long enough to kiss him.

You’ve grown to not just love him. You adore him.

The years Carlos has given you have been filled with only bliss. His family frequent your home for dinner when they’re in London. And you even got the cat after all. Carlos has warmed up to her. A little black fur you named Luna. Very original but you love her.

She’s at the wedding. In a tiny white collar with a white boy sitting in his mothers lap purring.

The family dogs are in similar spots. The wedding is in the back portion of the property, he built more of the porch walkway to make room for guests and seats.

Your first dance is so soft and sweet you feel like you’re in a dream. Or when cotton candy touch’s water, melting into glittery threads of sugar.

The night it filled with so much love. You forget about all your troubles. It was worth it you think. Worth it to end up here.

——-

Carlos is a baker. He bakes you blueberry muffins to take in to work every morning and always has hot pancakes or breakfast. A good pancake never needs syrup, he says. And his never do.

He tries new berries and flavors with each season and gives you a kiss when he drops you off at your cubicle.

Janice was right after all huh.

——-

When you’re in Spain or his family in London you go touring the sights with his sisters when you can. Going cafe hunting and bringing home treats for a very giddy and hands Carlos at the end of the day.

“What’d you get up to today?” He mumbles in between kisses.

“Your sisters brought out baby photos.” You giggle. “You were a cute baby!”

He snorts, “I was well behaved.”

You give him a look, handing him a small box filled with pastries, “not according to Blanca you weren’t.”

He shrugs, icing already on his nose that you happily kiss off.

——-

On your next birthday you take a quiet night in and a homemade dinner full of all your favorites at his home. He wears a stupid kiss the chef apron and makes him pose for pictures. You send them to his sisters (you have a groupchat of the three of you)!

You watch him work his magic, cooking in fluid motions and when its time to eat you almost melt.

“I think this is your best ever,” you mumble in between spoonfulls.

He giggles, kissing the apples of your cheek taking a seat opposite from you. “I’m glad love. Happy birthday.”

There’s a small box on the table that you haven’t noticed yet. Too small and rectangular for a ring. It's only when you clean up do you notice.

“What’s this?” Gently picking up the box in your hands.

He stands at the sink washing the dishes in a way to avoid your gaze. He’s shy. ”My gift to you.”

You open the box and out tumbles another pair of keys. “You and keys.” You grumble, but with no real venom.

“Carlos are these car keys.” You hiss.

He hums a tune under his breath in favor of answering you.

“Oh my god.” You whisper, feeling the ridges and creases. You recognize the logo. You’ve mentioned it on a whim here and there. Or that one time you saw it parked at a restaurant and you took a picture.

Leave it to Carlos to never miss anything. He’s giving you a damn Porsche for your birthday.

You set the key down on the coffee table. You help finish up the dishes kicking him out while he pouts about it being your birthday and he should be doing this for you not the other way around. A kiss and a promise gets him out and to the living room.

When you’re all done he leads you to his garage. Where a Porsche in your favorite color stands. Gift wrapped with a red bow and your name on the fender.

How did you end up living a life like this?

———

Jude finds you after years of digging. It takes just ages and he blows through so much money but he finds you, in London living in a house bigger than his own in Madrid and cozying up to a man he's never seen before.

He’s long cut off contact with his mother and the rest of his family. His brother he sees from time to time. His dad only briefly. Still no apology from him. He’s rather die than see his mother again and she knows that. She stopped sending Christmas cards ages ago.

He has business to finish. One that’s ages old and begins before he could understand the world around him. Begins with you, and it seems to always end with you. Call it fate or some cruel joke being played on him. Jude never got over you. Never has never will. You’re all the love hes ever known. Learning you got married almost sent him down an alcoholic rampage. But he had a ballon dore to set his eyes on (and he won, did you see?)

His source of information (a mutual friend) lets him know the man is named Carlos, comes from old money. The type that has houses on every content and still doesn't know what to do with it all. Too much to spend and not enough time to do it all.

That's fine whatever, he can do one better.

He shows up at your doorstep at the cusp of spring. There’s something poetic there, spring bringing new beginnings and all. Maybe there is a beginning to be made from the buried buds of yesterday's winter. He tells himself to not get his hopes up to high but the mere thought of seeing you again makes his skin tingle.

So up he goes. Don’t ask how he got passed the gate, a secret he will never tell. Chill still in the air and wrapped in a coat and scarf up to his nose. He tries not to gag at the matching porches that are parked outside.

He silently prays that it's you who will open the door.

Jude is nearing 30 now and he fears he may not have much more time left to chase you across the country.

A few rings of the doorbell is all the warning you get until you come face to face with the man who you've been so desperately trying to escape for years.

“Jude.” He melts at the sound of your name from his lips. Just as sweet as he dreams. The years have been kind to you. You look just as remembered. Just as full of life, of wonder. Just a tad bit wiser perhaps.

He nods, stepping forward. You back up, closing the door half way and hiding behind it.

“I'm sorry,” he begins, fists clenching at his side, “I'm sorry for every single second I left you alone. I was a coward. I was- fuck I was stupid and it cost me you. I rehearsed this a million times and I can't even find the words to say to you.“

“Jude. I'm married. There is no sorry. What's done is done.”

His face pales, “No please you can't just-”

“Can't just what, leave? Like you did? How did you think it felt when I heard of your wedding through instagram Jude please let me know. Because it wasn't jumping for joy. Or when you would ignore me for days till it became months.”

“I was young and stupid I didn’t mean-”

“No!” you shout, hands gripping the door knob. “You don't get to barge into my life whenever you feel like it. I'm married. I love him and he actually gives a damn about me, go figure. “

“You have to hear me out.” he pleads.

“No I fucking dont Jude!” you cry.

Footsteps pad up behind you, door opening further to reveal Carlos who puts a protective hand on your waist.

“Why are you making my wife upset? Can I help you mate?” His eyes do a once over Jude, unimpressed. Madrid super fan or not you come first.

“Mate?” Jude scofs. Seriously this is the guy you replace me with, what a joke.”

Carlos presses his lips into a thin line,”get off of my property.”

“Yeah right or is it all your dads. Damn trust fund baby. I hope you enjoy the money. Fucking nepo baby.” Jude points a finger at him.

You sigh, “Jude you need to leave, now, or i'll call the police and you get to escorted off the property by them and the whole world gets to watch your image crumble. “

He walks off of the front steps at this, head hung low and taking one last look at the two of you. Sneering at Carlos before he stops away.

Carlos looks at you, frowning. You have a lot of explaining to do don't you.

—--

“Jude, Jude Bellingham at my door. What was that about my love?” He gets a glass of water, taking a sip.

You sigh, sitting back on the couch.

“Carlos… where do I even begin.” Rubbing your eyes aggressively.

“Wherever you want,” he shrugs, leaning on the kitchen counter.

“Jude and I were once neighbors, friends, lovers. Everything. I loved him so much that I didn't even care that he would ignore me for months till once day poof! He announces he got married on instagram of all places while I was a wreck so I moved out of our hometown. Came here. Meet you. Rest is history.”

”Why is he back?”

you shrug. “Hell if I know. Last I knew he got divorced won the ballon dor. I haven’t talked to him since he left me.”

Carlos nods, setting the cup down and joining you on the couch. “If you want a restraining order we can do that?”

You shake your head, “I dont want to make it bigger than it needs to be. If he keeps trying we can talk about it.”

”Okay.” Pressing his lips to your forehead. “Mom wanted to get brunch with you but you can cancel after all that.”

You sit up. “No no! I’d never miss brunch with her i’ll start getting ready.”

Carlos smile at you, padding back upstairs to your bed room to get ready for work.

——-

The next family vacation is in Italy. Partly due to the champions league and partly because its his mothers turn to choose. You happily agree tagging along and seeing the family jet for the first time. (They have a jet???) you still have some getting used to do with the way they live their life.

It’s a welcome distraction to the shit show that was at your door.

You do some sightseeing and have brunch all together accompanied by his sisters husbands as well. Both kind men who would do anything for both sisters. It’s sweet, to have a family full of so much love.

You split up after brunch and Carlos wants to do some sightseeing and you of course go.

You end up walking round Milan for hours till you get hungry and spot a little hole in the wall, street food stand that Carlos can not wait to try.

You get in line and brush your fingers against the buckles of Carlos jeans while you wait. He pouts saying something about how it should be the other way around followed by more quips that make you laugh loud and bright.

There’s a figure that you dont see, standing on the opposite side of the town square that recognizes your laugh from a mile away.

Jude is here, of course he is. But its not to sight see. To compete. He left his hotel with a mask do get some fresh air before all his physicals and here the universe has brought you to him once again.

You dont see him, of course you dont. His gut twists while he watches you laugh in ways he never did him him. He feels like a creep, watching you and your husband laugh into each other with matching smiles. Like hes doing something he shouldn’t, watching something he shouldn’t. But he cant bring himself to look away.

Not when you place your order or when Carlos feeds you some of his portion. Nor while you giggle when some gets on your nose and he wipes it off for you.

He waits for some sort of reaction to the public. Braces for judgment but nothing comes. It’s here that he’s reminded how different his life and yours is.

Everything you couldn’t do with him you now freely do in the streets with your husband. The word makes him sick. Husband. It should be him there not that corporate sell out.

Jude tears his eyes away when he gets a text from a teammate. 20 mins till he has to check in. He should leave. He’s seen enough.

——-

Rumors behind to float around Carlos. Wicked and dangerous. They come out of no where and they span from everything and anything under the sun.

You no longer get work at the same firm. You both agreed that Carlos was more than okay to support the two of you. And you liked the idea of being a stay at home wife, mom, etc.

But the rumor begin to draw you into the mix. That you married him for money. That you not got the job because you were fucking him.

That Carlos only got his position due to his father and so forth.

His reputation is on the rocks and a careful set of eyes from afar watches how you repond.

Leave him, come back to me. He wants to say

You dont do any of this. If anything you become more attached to your husband. Unwavering and refusing to leave for a moment.

——

Jude finds you once more in a coffee shop. Setting down a cup next to you while he hovers over your seat. It’s the same drink his mother used to force you to order near the end. You don’t acknowledge it even if it’s the only one he knows you to drink.

It’s the cusp of full now. Months after his first intrusion. You watch as eyes crowd him till there’s a circle of people around you with phones out. You feel sick for more reasons than one.

“Jude.” You warn.

He sits down. Ignoring the eyes. He’s desperate now. And frankly he doesn’t care about the backlash at this point. He only cares about one thing. You.

”im sorry i just cant watch you live you life with him and ignore what we had.”

“Jude-“

”Just please listen to me that’s all I ask of you.”

“You have nothing i want to hear.” Crossing your arms.

He starts to cause a scene. Voice rising and drawing even more attention if that’s even possible.

You agree, 3 minutes. That’s all he has.

He breathes a sigh of relief. He starts off by saying “hazelnut coffee right? your favorite”

It’s not your favorite, it was the only drink his mom ordered for you because it was supposed to keep you from bloatingit’s not your favorite, it was the only drink his mom ordered for you because it was supposed to keep you from bloating.

You stare at his face reminding yourself that he really doesn’t know you at all. When you don’t answer he picks at his hands. Finding the right words

“She’s gone and everything is right now. we can be together again just like we promised it’ll be us agaisnt the world. just me and you. I always loved you.”

“you’re late jude. I’m married. I can’t leave my life behind for you.” Crossing your arms over yourself.

“Why not?”

Your eye twitches. “When you had the opportunity to actually give a damn you didn’t. You didn’t fight. Hell you didn’t even speak and left me in the dust for some no name you stuck your shit in one night and got off too. And now what i’m supposed to go running back?”

“So what now? you want to be with him? He isn’t even someone worthy of you.”

“And you are Jude??”

“he left you here at a cafe alone easy to find.”

Your patience is wearing thin.

“I know we have history. And I know our childhood together was sweet. But the past can not keep you tethered and making decisions based on it. You can’t keep chasing things that no longer exist Jude. I’m no longer yours and I haven’t been for a while now. “

“What do you mean it doesn’t exist” he desperately tries to grab your hand.

But Carlos walks in. Putting a hand on your shoulder and staring Jude down. Almost as if saying go ahead, try it again. “I’d appreciate it if you backed up and away from my wife mate. I wont ask you again.”

he helps you get up, putting your hand over his. When you stand does Jude notice a baby bump.

It’s this moment that Jude realizes that hes lost you, completely and wholly. There is no redos. His own cowardice lead to this. And now he watches the woman he loves walk hand in hand with another.

———

CHOSE YOUR ENDING

JUDE. CARLOS.

[gutterfuuck]

your mark fics have me 🫣🫣🫣 i was literally tweaking over that bff mark one…i need more bff mark immediately omfg…

ask and receive!

kind of a continuation on this post here, mdni!!

i have written just like the format of my last post about pervy bff mark, though will be working on a full fic pretty soon, so glad u have enjoyed it!

cw: stalkerish behaviour from mark ngl, making out, dry humping, mark is kinda subby but more because he is desperate and not rlly a sub? i am not sure how to describe it haha ^^;, drinking, college mark and reader

bff!mark who wakes you up with breakfast in bed, making sure to not be beside you before you woke up, he didn’t want you to think that you had done something with him last night… or rather, that he had done something to you. he would be milking his cock for weeks thinking about how you tasted on his tongue, craving for more, craving to have you pulling on his hair and whimpering his name.

bff!mark who says, “oh, it was no big deal. gotta make sure nobody tries to harm you, y’know?” as he leaves your room in response to you thanking him for getting you home last night, remembering how he had helped you clean up and change. you trusted him so much, he was such a gentleman. you were glad to call him your best friend.

bff!mark who blushes fifty shades of red when you run up to him the next day, grabbing onto his arm and pressing your soft breasts against his skin, his brain short circuiting as he tried to spit out a simple hello, butterflies plaguing his stomach.

bff!mark who almost creams his fucking boxers at the opportunity of getting something from your dorm room for you; “i just need my bag! i can’t believe i left without it this morning, i really don’t have the energy to sprint across campus- mark pleaseeee..~” you begged, and how could he refuse?

bff!mark whos hands are shaking as he slots your key into the door, unlocking it and stepping in. he found your bag almost instantly, of course he would recognise the bag he had gifted you. you always used it, always carried around a piece of him.

bff!mark who can’t help himself from locking the door behind him ‘5 minutes’ he thought. he could blame his lateness on tiredness, he’d tell you that he just walked back instead of running like he had on the way there.

bff!mark who pulls his hardening cock out of his pants, spitting on his hand so he could fold up one of your pillows and thrust into it, so he could pretend to fuck your cunt and get off on the idea that you’d never know that you would have your face pressed up against his dried precum later as you drifted off to sleep.

“y/n so good… wan’to f-fuckihn- hold you..” your bff groaned as he thrusted his hips up into the soft fabric, eyes closed as he thought about how pretty you would look with his dick in your mouth, how much he’d love to have your head bobbing up and down on his cock, how much he craved tasting your tight cunt again and how much he wanted to bounce your hips up and down onto his length; how much he wanted to fuck you into the mattress until he felt satisfied. “pressing on me like that.. c-could’ve-should’ve touched your tits..” he whispered, throwing his head back with a deep moan.

bff!mark who has to stop himself from cumming on your pillow, quickly pulling his pants back up and grabbing your bag, returning it to you with a smile. you’d throw your arms around his shoulders, jump up into a little hug with your leg raised… you made him so horny he couldn’t think straight. he especially couldn’t think straight when you asked him if he wanted to come over tonight, watch a movie, have a couple of drinks together since the guy who had promised to see you tonight bailed on you.

bff!mark who arrives with a large bottle of cheap vodka and an off brand bottle of coke, his eyes scanning you up and down in your almost skimpy pajama set. you don’t mind showing off a little skin, mark would never think of seeing you like that.

bff!mark who watches you refill your cup again and again; you always got carried away with your alcohol. he sips carefully, pretending to take large gulps. waiting. until-

“wanna kiss?” you slurred, taking mark by surprise. had he heard you correctly? he almost grabbed you by your shoulders and slammed you up against your dorm’s kitchen wall, grateful for his self restraint.

bff!mark who can’t talk— only act— you had knocked the breath out of him. he nodded lazily, biting his tongue before pressing his lips against yours experimentally, quickly pulling away… his hand cradles your cheek, lips connecting with yours again.

bff!mark who is so eager, who doesn’t even wait until he’s pressing his tongue into your mouth, loving the way you gasped lightly, twitching in his jeans at the way you shyly pressed your tongue against his. mark used his other hand to subtly rub his hardening dick, mind cloudy and body hot. there was no way this was actually happening.

bff!mark who wants to tell you how badly he’s wanted this; wants you to know about how he touches you when you sleep next to him, how he couldn’t help himself from stealing your underwear and cumming his brains out at the thought of your tight cunt walls compressing his dick.

bff!mark grabs your waist, guides you both over to your bed and pulls you onto his lap, his lips never daring to leave yours and his tongue fighting against yours. “f-fuhckk..” he’d whine for a second, totally lost in you. your hips gyrated on top of his bulge, causing a loud groan to come from his throat. there was no way in hell this was happening- he must’ve died and gone to heaven

“n-need you to suck me off- n-no- i wanna lick out your pussy so bad— fuck let me put my tip in-won’t hurt i promise, y/n please-“ he babbled, hips bucking up against your thin pajama shorts, quickly pulling his pants down so it could bob out freely, cock head wet with precum.

bff!mark who melts into you, hands not knowing where to touch or where to go, your mixed saliva dripping down his chin with how messily he kissed you. the best thing about it? you were sober enough to remember this time. fuck. he thought as he pulled your shorts to the side, looking down at how your pussy left a damp spot on his jeans, i can’t wait to fuck up your insides.

sorry to cut it off short here! i want to save all of the good stuff for the full fic i will be working on. i hope you enjoy! i lowkey love bff mark now… don’t fuel me…

[onesidedradiostatic]

O k but the asexual panic of realizing someone you thought was your rival/enemy actually has a massive homoerotic, stalkerish crush on you. Alastor may be fine outwardly when he next sees Vox, but internally, he'd be panicked. He knows he doesn't really have a reason to be... but there's logic, and then there's the terror inducing realization that this guy actually LIKES you... romantically. It's not JUST Vox anymore... it's Vox, the guy who freaking stalks Alastor and has a body pillow and a shrine and is FREAKING STALKING him.

(kinda referring to this)

okay hold on so I feel like something we need to take into account here is that alastor is also very fucked in the head. I think he is aware of vox's stalking, he knows of his attempts of trying to spy on him at the end of episode 2 and stares directly into one of the cameras vox has on him at the start of episode 8. I think he likes the attention. HOWEVER, I think it'd be very incredibly funny if his enjoyment of it goes down the drain the MOMENT he realises there is any sort of romantic/sexual intentions in it. like. "oh being obsessed with me? who wouldn't be? keep it up" but having a crush on him? it going into sexual territory? ew. ew. no. stop. stop it. STOP.

[seungrem]

tomie!enhypen (sunghoon) x no pronoun!reader

The Curse of Sunghoon

masterlist ~*+ - part 1 ~*+ - part 2 of ??

summary: It seemed everyone had become lost in their flawed tendencies since the arrival of the new student. His enigmatic spirit and flawless features made him impossible to miss- enchanting students and teachers alike. Uncanny in many ways, the boy’s name was Sunghoon, and for reader, it seemed his presence was nothing other than ill-fated.

( overview: please see warnings. no pronouns mentioned excluding occasional ‘em’s, student!sunghoon & reader & jungwon & heeseung, part 2 but it’s kinda just part 1.5 )

( warnings: mentions of blood, weapons, threats, fighting/physical aggression, death, not gross & not detailed gore, arrests/police, gangs/mob groups, manipulation, and stalkerish/obsessive behavior )

emoji code:

🌿 ( long story/series )

🧸 ( fluff crumbs )

🪐 ( Junji Ito - Tomie AU )

☁️ ( stands for y/n )

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“Your absence has been problematic..”

Rough gusts of wind brushed against ☁️’s skin. The sky was still cloudy from the morning’s rain.

“..Even more than your presence had been. Why’d your curse only now come around?”

Looking over the bridge’s stone guardrail, the student rested heavy arms down. The stream’s water rushed steadily under the structure, though not nearly as harsh as it had been a week prior.

“Why’re you over here sulking? Shouldn’t you be at school?”

☁️ turned to see Heeseung, his mahogany hair floating lightly as he stepped onto the bridge. Approaching ☁️, he stopped a few feet away and leaned against the guardrail as well.

“The school day ended four hours ago. Why’re you here and still in your school uniform?”

“I had a feeling that you’d be here.”

Eyebrows furrowed, ☁️ remained with a forward gaze. “So.. what do you want?”

“Now that Sunghoon’s gone and this place is “problematic” as you say, somebody needs to watch over you.”

“Oh.. I’ll be fine. I know who to look out for.”

“This a lot different than you think it is, ☁️.”

“I need to be alone right now, Heeseung. You can watch me from a distance, can’t you?”

“Well, people are usually dying to be this close to me-“

☁️ looked over to the boy to see a grin slowly growing along his face.

“Oh.. sorry. Too soon..?”

“Leave.”

“Why aren’t you drawn to me? Don’t you think I’m everything you want and more? Am I not handsome?”

“Are you serious?” ☁️ responded in an aggressive tone.

“You can’t reject me.. and I don’t take rejection very well.” Heeseung muttered between gritting teeth. He was shaking, which worried ☁️ slightly. “Wait.. you must still like Sunghoon. It can’t be a me problem..”

“Clearly.. I’m just not in the position to be interested in anyone. Now, I would like to sulk in peace, please.”

Heeseung stopped shaking, and took a deep breath. “Mhm. I’ll see you Monday.”

“I hope not.” ☁️ muttered, earning a scoff from Heeseung as he walked away.

I can’t believe that guy. He’s such a weirdo.. and his ego problems are a lot worse than Sunghoon’s.

Returning a gaze to the trees and flowing stream, ☁️ continued his thoughts out loud.

Now where was I?

After school, ☁️ would go over to the bridge and talk about all that went on throughout the day. Like how rumors of the archery teacher going insane were spread rampant after he didn’t show up to class the entire week. Other students stated that they’ve seen him creeping around on campus, but who knew of that was true. Rika also didn’t show up for the first half of the week. It seemed she hadn’t been sleeping, as she had bags under her eyes and didn’t say a word to anyone. ☁️ recalled that she still only had one bow in her hair. Both her and Hoshino have been on edge, but in contrast to Rika, Hoshino became meaner. As ☁️ would stand on the bridge every evening, one or two of Hoshino’s goons would pass by. It became so frequent that ☁️ would greet them on a first-name basis. On Thursday, accusations against Hoshino came about, with more rumors saying that he was the cause of Sunghoon’s disappearance. That was also the day that the young teacher (whose name ☁️ still didn’t know), confronted ☁️ in private. The teacher explained that he couldn’t remember when or how, but he remembers ☁️ being associated with missing items from his classroom. After pretending not to understand, ☁️ was on borrowed time. It obviously wasn’t good that the teacher’s memories were coming back, and ☁️ could tell that he was thoroughly investigating Sunghoon’s situation, which made the student anxious.

☁️’s trance was broken as footsteps echoed from the left side of the bridge. It was an older man, who looked at ☁️ and nodded.

“Be careful around here. The kids are reporting stories of ghosts.” The man muttered as he passed the student.

“Really? I’ve visited this bridge everyday and haven’t seen anything.” ☁️ responded.

The old man looked over the edge and pointed at the water below. Then, he turned, continuing his trudge down the bridge and onto the dirt path. ☁️ struggled it off.

Today was Friday, and rumors of Rika framing Hoshino for Sunghoon’s disappearance were passed around in ☁️’s first class. Both had been the subjects of much discussion, aside from one of the new students- Jungwon. Hours later, as ☁️ sat alone at lunch, police officers entered the cafeteria. Hoshino was apparently taken into police custody, but released later that day for unknown reasons.

After lunch, ☁️ attended the archery course, expecting to sit around as the students had been doing since Monday. To their surprise, the teacher was back, and extremely disoriented. His short, gray hair basically stood upright, and he stood hunched over with a cane. He, too, had noticeable eyebags and a disturbed expression. The old teacher was silent for a while before asking the students to turn themselves in for the murder of Sunghoon, as he was planning to do. You’ve could’ve guessed that the students, Hoshino especially, didn’t like this request. ☁️ felt the group’s hostility rise as the students shouted and eventually chased the old man out of the gym and into the forested area. For a man with a cane, it seemed he was perfectly capable of moving without it as he bolted out the back doors. ☁️ understood what they might do, and why they would do it- fear, anger, states of craze or madness, desensitization. ☁️ didn’t participate this time, and instead watched everyone run out of the room, with four or five students having been left behind. One student asked if they were actually going to turn themselves in, which everyone agreed not to.

☁️ heard that Rika had skipped this archery class to target the young teacher. She seemed to mistakenly think that the man was framing her, and he was the reason she was being accused of Hoshino’s arrest. ☁️ recalled Sunghoon’s interaction with Rika the week prior, when he was still alive. He handed Rika a bag full of papers and files, and then she was on her way. Sunghoon had never clarified what his scheme consisted of, and part of ☁️ wish that he had. From what ☁️ heard from teachers’ gossip, the young teacher had a few stab wounds but was still alive.

☁️ flinched at the sound of footsteps once again. It was Hoshino- who looked as if he was ready to fall asleep standing up.

“☁️.”

☁️ took a step back.. expecting the worst. “Y-yes?”

“Have you seen Smiley? It’s been hours since he’s came through here.”

Smiley was one of Hoshino’s goons who ☁️ saw regularly, and earlier today, ☁️ walked from the school to the bridge with him. ☁️ remembered waving goodbye before Smily walked deeper into the forested area. Ironically, Smiley wasn’t very amiable- or smiley. He was nice to ☁️, though, thus the two interacted often.

“Yes, but it’s been a while since he walked down that path. I haven’t seen him walk back.”

“Shit.” Hoshino muttered as he hurried past ☁️ across the bridge.

“Let me come with you. It’s getting dark.” ☁️ blurted out impulsively. Hoshino appeared confused, but nodded hesitantly in agreement.

The two walked side by side off of the dirt path and into the forest.

“Where are we going?” ☁️ asked, looking around.

“To where we.. scattered.. Sunghoon.”

☁️ exhaled.

“Sorry. How have you been holding up?”

Baffled, ☁️ looked over to Hoshino. “I’ve been okay. I have my thoughts, but I’m sure you have yours, too.”

Hoshino nodded.

“Can I ask you a question, though?” ☁️ continued.

Hoshino nodded again. The sky was fading into an orange hue as the two walked.

“What happened today? How’d you end up in police custody, and how’d you get out?”

“I don’t know who said what, but that crazy bitch Rika was how I got out. One of my guys caught her burning clothes and documents in this forest yesterday. She wasn’t burning evidence for me, though. She was doing it for herself. I don’t think she anticipated sparing me. I’m confused about it all myself. I don’t know what she’s doing- I don’t know anything. It’s really pissing me off.”

☁️ raised an eyebrow. Hoshino had eyes and ears everywhere, so to hear that he was clueless was scary in itself. ☁️ still didn’t understand how he ended up becoming accused, though. The two stopped upon seeing a body lying on the floor in the distance.

“That’s gotta be Smiley.” Hoshino ran over to the body with ☁️ close behind. “Shit, shit, shit. That’s him.”

☁️ leaned down to feel the boy’s pulse. Placing two fingers under his jawline, ☁️ felt Smiley’s cold skin touch his own.

“He’s dead, Hoshino. What happened?”

“It’s getting dark, I’ll take you home.”

-

“I really wish we met under better circumstances. I’m sorry for putting you through all this.” Hoshino shook his head, and then ran a hand through his fluffy black hair.

“Don’t worry about me. What happened to Smiley?”

“I think- no, I know it’s the old teacher. Everybody’s been saying that he’s been lurking in the woods since what happened last week. It only makes sense.”

“How’s that old man gonna take Smiley out, though? I thought you guys took care of him when you chased him.”

“The others beat him pretty bad. I didn’t think anything of it.. He’s unpredictable right now.”

“An old person said that there were ghosts in the area. Maybe that has some correlation?”

“You haven’t seen what’s under the bridge yet?”

With a head tilted to the side, ☁️ squinted.

“What do you mean?”

“Make sure you have no plans tomorrow. I’ll pick you up here.”

☁️ remained silent and nodded.

“Are you okay being here alone tonight? If you need me to, I can stay.” Avoiding eye contact, Hoshino gestured to ☁️’s home- which they stood right in front of. It was a tiny apartment complex ☁️ was renting out while attending school in the countryside.

“I have someone watching over me, so I’ll be okay. But.. are you gonna be okay? You don’t look good. At all.”

“It’s been a rough week... I never wanted any of this.”

“I know. But it’s still going to be here tomorrow. Go home and get some rest.”

Hoshino nodded. “Does twelve-thirty work?”

☁️ sighed and nodded.

“Have a goodnight.” Hoshino muttered before turning around and walking home in the darkness. ☁️ waited until Hoshino was out of sight to turn around.

Walking to the front door, ☁️ heard a familiar voice whisper out. Heeseung was nearby.

“☁️~”

☁️ carefully turned around and walked back over to the sidewalk, where Heeseung now stood.

“How do you know where I live?”

“I watch over you, remember?”

“Right.. what do you want?”

“I’m going to join you two tomorrow. Also, no more of this walking through the forest when it’s nighttime. Not with everything going on.”

☁️ nodded. “I’ll see you at twelve-thirty.”

“Who’s this?” Hoshino muttered, pointing to the tall boy waving from across the stream. Another boy accompanied him, though ☁️ very faintly recognized him.

“His name is Heeseung. I don’t know who the other guy is.”

“Why’s he wearing a school uniform on a Saturday?”

“I don’t know. It’s kinda his thing.”

The two approached Hoshino and ☁️ with flashy smiles.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Heeseung nodded to ☁️ and then looked at Hoshino. “This is my friend Jungwon. He’ll be joining us today.”

“Uh, I’m sorry?” Hoshino grimaced. “What do you mean “joining us?” Neither of you were invited.”

“Now, now. Let’s not get worked up. We’re all here for the same thing.” Jungwon spoke, rather irregularly. His tone was crisp and elegant, as if he wasn’t from this century. Unlike Heeseung, he wore normal clothing- a black hoodie and grey corduroy straight pants.

“What.. thing?” ☁️ asked, raising an eyebrow.

Heeseung gestured to Hoshino, who walked off of the bridge and down the tiny hill in which its side stood exposed- it was where ☁️ had left Sunghoon’s organs. The stream’s water continued its pace as ☁️ shuffled behind the others. ☁️’s stomach dropped upon seeing a skeletal structure growing from the stone abutment. Short pieces of skin draped off each bone and fluttered in the wind as if it were cloth. The body’s brain could be seen through the eye sockets, and the ribcage pierced through the heart. There were no legs, and the pelvis bones seemed to grow straight out of the stone structure. Whatever it was, it still had parts of organs and muscle along the body.

Feeling queasy, ☁️ sat on the ground and looked away.

“What the fuck is that.”

“The ghost everyone has been talking about.” Hoshino replied, sitting next down beside ‘em.

“This is where you left Sunghoon’s heart. Is it not?” Heeseung asked, looked down at ☁️.

“Yes… Is this him?” ☁️ asked, feeling even more sick.

“Somewhat. Do you know what he is?” Jungwon replied. Heeseung shot the boy beside him a concerned look.

“What do you mean?” Hoshino asked.

“It’s okay. I need to speak with Heeseung.” Jungwon replied, walking back up to the bridge’s path with Heeseung following behind him.

“How long have you known about this?” ☁️ looked over to Hoshino.

“A few days. I didn’t know it was of Sunghoon’s body parts, though. Only weird ass person would do some shit like this… I still think it’s that teacher.”

“If those two know about this, do you think they could help us figure out what happened to Smiley?” ☁️ whispered, pointing at the bridge above.

“They know. Heeseung.. brought Smiley back to life. I don’t know how, but that guy said he saved Smiley’s life the night that we found him. He’s recovering at home.”

“Oh, that’s great.” ☁️ sighed, relieved. Quickly glancing at the ghostly figure in front of the two, the student wrapped an arm around the knee. “Why are his organs in such good condition after a week? His heart is still.. beating. There’s no blood pumping through it.”

“I don’t know. This is really weird, though.”

Hoshino muttered before ☁️ nodded in agreement. “Let’s get outta here.”

Hoshino stood up first, him then helping ☁️ up. It was then that ☁️ noticed the scar along the side of Hoshino’s face- it stretched from his left ear to the end of his eyebrow. The two made their way to where Heeseung and Jungwon stood, them seemingly bickering.

“Everything okay?” Hoshino interrupted before they turned their attention to ☁️.

“Yes. That’s all I’ve needed. I’ll see you two in class.” Jungwon nodded to Hoshino and ☁️, and then turned around after glancing at Heeseung.

“Ready to head home?” Heeseung smiled, motioning ☁️ forward.

“Actually, I was going to take ☁️ home.” Hoshino responded, looking from ☁️ to Heeseung.

“There’s no need if I’m around. We should get going. It’s not safe around here-“ Heeseung took a step forward and lightly grasped ☁️’s arm, leading the student away from Hoshino. ☁️ turned around to face the boy.

“I’ll see you on Monday.” ☁️ called out, attempting a smile before practically being dragged by Heeseung.

“Yeah. Right.” ☁️ heard Hoshino mutter.

“I didn’t know that you were off of the market.” Hoshino teased after catching up to ☁️. The two walked to school under the trees’ pink archway- them only four or five blocks away.

“What do you mean?” ☁️ responded, half surprised to see the boy next to him.

“Heeseung… You know, you could’ve just told me.”

“We’re not dating.”

“Does he know that?”

“I think so.”

The walk was quiet for a minute before Hoshino cleared his throat.

“So..” He began. “I told you that I owe you for what happened. You need anything?”

☁️ sighed. “I.. don’t need anything. But, I do think it’s a good idea for you to lay low for a while.”

“Right...”

“As in keep to yourself. Don’t talk to teachers or other students. And don’t pick on other people.”

“I don’t pick on other people.”

☁️ looked over at Hoshino with rolled eyes.

“I just need to keep everyone in line.”

“Just a suggestion.”

“And I’ll take your suggestion seriously.”

☁️ looked over to Hoshino again.

“I never see you talk to anybody like this. Not even your goons..”

“And you’re going to ask why I’m talking to you, right?”

☁️ nodded.

“Well, I’m not sure. You have such a genuineness to you. You’re always so.. calm and composed and grounded. It’s intriguing.”

Unsure of the compliment, ☁️ nodded.

“You probably just haven’t spent much time around me, in honesty.”

“Well, I’ve been trying. Your friends seem to plot against me, though.”

☁️ nodded again, seeming to grasp what Hoshino was trying to say.

“I don’t need more rumors, so I’ll see you later.” Hoshino whispered, him then walking away from ☁️ as the two approached the campus.

☁️ walked into the building to find there wasn’t much traffic in the hallways. Checking the time, the student had a few seconds to get to class.

“Shit.”

-

The teacher walked into the classroom later than she usually had- a few minutes after the bell had rung. ☁️ slouched against the wall, awaiting her usual spiel. As she opened her mouth to speak, she was interrupted by the sliding door’s abrupt opening. Jungwon walked in with straight shoulders and a pair of clear-framed glasses. He turned his attention to ☁️, and then to the teacher as he ran a hand through his straight, black hair.

“Hello, I believe my schedule has been changed.”

“Oh right, please come and introduce yourself.”

“Hello, everyone. I’m Jungwon. I just moved here earlier this week.” Jungwon’s voice was much more bubbly than ☁️ remembered.

“Very nice to have you join us. You can choose any seat that isn’t currently taken.” The teacher responded, with an obvious uninterested tone.

Jungwon scanned the room, eventually locking eyes with ☁️. He walked over to the empty seat beside ☁️, the one Sunghoon used to sit in, and gently placed himself in it. The teacher opened her mouth to speak again, but the sliding door slammed open once more. This time, Sunghoon walked in. He looked as he usually did- black hair neat while still swaying as he moved, shoulders straight, and skin fair and flawless. The only difference were the sunglasses he wore on the tip of his nose. Upon his entrance, the entirety of the class had a reaction.

“Su-Sunghoon?” The teacher asked after freezing in place. She shook slightly, eyes locked on the boy before falling to the ground. ☁️ gasped and held a hand over the mouth at the sight of him. A student in the back of the classroom threw up beside their desk. It seemed everyone else was wide-eyed or frozen in place. Sunghoon smiled at the students’ response and approached Jungwon.

“I’d like my seat back.” Sunghoon teased, his eyes (despite them being blocking by the sunglasses) seeming to pierce through Jungwon.

“This one’s taken. There’s another over there.” Jungwon replied with a far different tone, his eyes not leaving Sunghoon’s.

“Then why don’t you go sit in it?” Sunghoon instructed, gripping Jungwon’s shoulder as he spoke. Jungwon smiled- probably out of anger, and nodded slowly while pursing his lips. He reluctantly stood up and threw his bag around his shoulder, walking to the other side of the classroom and sitting in an empty seat. The class then sat in silence, aside from the one student who began crying softly as the teacher remained on the ground.

-

Sitting across from Sunghoon and beside Jungwon, ☁️‘s stomach was left in the first classroom. The cafeteria wasn’t nearly as loud as it would be any other day, and ☁️ couldn’t eat anything. ☁️ also couldn’t tell if Sunghoon was staring at ‘em, or if it was just the sunglasses. Eventually, Sunghoon broke silence between the three.

“So, ☁️.”

☁️ froze, slowly raising his gaze from the table to Sunghoon’s face.

“I heard that the old archery teacher was still stalking students on campus. Is that true?”

A lump in ☁️’s throat, the student struggled to get words out. “I’m not sure..”

“So he hasn’t overstepped his bounds with you?”

“I haven’t actually seen him.. I’m not sure if that rumor is true.”

Sunghoon nodded after licking his lips.

“So, Jungwon.” He continued, though his next words were nothing less than pure audacity and snide. “What’re you doing here?”

Jungwon slammed his fists onto the table and slowly looked at Sunghoon.

“Well, you see. There’s this thing that continuously causes problems in this specific area. I have to make sure that every problem is resolved before I can finally get rid of that thing. Sound familiar?”

“I truly wish you the best of luck with that. You’ll really need it.”

If ☁️ didn’t know any better, ☁️ would say that they were threatening each other. Deciding it was best not to get involved, the student remained silent for the rest of the period.

As the three stood from their table upon hearing their bell, Sunghoon motioned ☁️ to follow him.

“I have to pay someone another visit.”

Despite wanting to say no, and wanting to stay away from the dead boy standing in front of him, ☁️ was too scared to oppose.

The two walked side by side away from the crowd of other students, down a separate hallway and then up a staircase. Eventually, Sunghoon and ☁️ stood outside of a classroom. After knocking lightly, Sunghoon swung the door open. The lights were off and a small lamp on the teacher’s desk was on, illuminating a corner of the dim room. ☁️ recognized the young teacher- though today, he had bandages wrapped around his neck and arms. The sleeves of his white button up were rolled up above his elbows, displaying the white wraps. He seemed to be talking to another woman, presumably another teacher.

“Could you excuse us, please?” Sunghoon asked, stepping inside of the room.

“Oh, h-hello.”

“Do you have a moment?”

“Sure..” The two teachers glanced at each other, the man clearing his throat shortly after. “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind conversing in front of another teacher, right?”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “I do mind. We need to speak in private, Mr. Achigai.”

Exhaling, Mr. Achigai pursued his lips and nodded, signaling the woman to leave the room.

“☁️, why don’t you keep her some company?” Sunghoon looked over his shoulder, his eyes directing ☁️ out of the room as well. The student nodded and stepped out after the teacher, sliding the door shut. ☁️ eventually turned to the woman- who seemed to be middle aged. The two looked at each other for a few seconds before the woman cleared her throat.

“Have you heard the rumors surrounding that boy in there? About why he was missing?” She whispered, it almost sounding like a croak. ☁️ nodded.

“A boy doesn’t just come back to life after getting killed. You should be really careful around him.”

☁️ grimaced at her words, whispering back, “How do you know that he died?”

“When the kids talk, the staff hears about it. An accidental death in the gym isn’t something that can be covered up.”

☁️ took a few second to ponder. “If you knew about it, why hasn’t anybody reported it?”

The woman looked around. “It isn’t in our authority. We can’t just accuse an entire class, and with no evidence but what others are saying.” She paused, looking at the closed door beside the two of them. “We got lucky when someone was able to get the ringleader “arrested,” but something weird happened.”

“It was a lack of evidence, right?” ☁️ interrupted.

“Well, technically. Mr. Achigai knew a student stole some personal documents from him a week or two ago. He thinks that this student was trying to plant evidence on that ringleader, which led to the arrest.”

“And did he mention who did this to him..” Pointing to the neck and arms, ☁️ awaited a response.

“I’m sorry, it’d be inappropriate for me to name names.. but-“

“Rika, right?”

The teacher looked around and shook her head. “I’ve already told you too much.. and you’re a student. Our classes are coming back soon and I need to-”

“Wait, wait.” Holding a hand up to stop the teacher from leaving, ☁️ continued. “Rika was caught burning paper and clothes in the woods. She was trying to remove herself from the situation she was put in, but saved the ringleader in the process.”

“What situation?”

The door was abruptly swung open, and Sunghoon gazed expectantly at ☁️ and the teacher.

“Excuse the intrusion.” Sunghoon said as he faced the woman. The woman nodded, stepping aside to let Sunghoon walk out of the classroom. ☁️ turned around to see Mr. Achigai leaning against his desk, arms folded. Sunghoon motioned ☁️ to walk beside him as the woman slipped back into the classroom. As she did, her eyes met ☁️'s in a silent exchange, the two conveying a message to the other: "Use this information wisely." ☁️ caught up to Sunghoon as a bell rung.

“What did you and Mr…”

“Achigai.”

“..Mr. Achigai talk about?” ☁️ looked up at Sunghoon as students began walking down the hallway in the opposite direction. The crowd split into two as they passed ☁️ and Sunghoon, the two receiving nervous glances as they moved.

“I asked him if he knew the whereabouts of the archery teacher. I also asked if he was aware of what he was doing.”

“What’s he doing?”

Sunghoon didn’t answer until they reached the stairwell, and all of the children had passed.

“Killing students in the forest. Collecting body parts. Following me wherever I go.”

“Hoshino was right, then.”

“Speaking of. What’s your relationship with him? Seems you two have gotten awfully close.” Sunghoon looked over at ☁️ with an expressionless glare.

“I wouldn’t consider him a friend.. more of an acquaintance. Seems I’m on his good side.”

“Yeah, well. He’s not on mine.” Sunghoon mumbled as he began descending the stairs.

“Hey, Sunghoon.” ☁️ called out, making the boy stop in his tracks. He turned around, and locked eyes with ☁️. “Are we going to talk about.. you. And why you’re here?”

“I’m a gift, and you’re luck enough to have received me twice. Lucky you!” Sunghoon laughed manically as he began walking into the hallway. ☁️ flew down the steps and jogged to catch up to him, but he was nowhere to be found.

-

“Sunghoon!”

☁️ lightly jogged to catch Sunghoon down the school’s stone driveway. The boy looked over his shoulder and began walking a bit slower, allowing ☁️ to catch up.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you since you disappeared.”

“Oh, sorry. I forgot that I agreed to meet someone around that time.”

☁️ nodded.

“Ready to talk now?” Sunghoon turned his head to face ☁️, an eyebrow raised.

“Mhm.”

Stepping onto pink petals scattered across the stone beneath them, Sunghoon and ☁️ entered the cherry blossom archway- reviving their daily routine.

“Last week, Rika told us that she was following us home. The wind blew one of the bows in her hair over to our direction, and I picked it up before she could retrieve it. Later that week, I left the bow in Mr. Achigai’s room so that he suspected her of stealing from him. From what we’ve both gathered, my plan was successful. Only one person wears those bows daily, so I knew that Mr. Achigai would figure it out. I told Rika to plant the documents on Hoshino somehow, and I’m sure she would have if I didn’t get impaled by arrows. From what you’ve told me, I think she got scared, and decided to discard everything.”

“I didn’t tell you that..” ☁️ faltered.

“I’ll get to that. But last week, on my phone, I had a message to the local authorities scheduled to be sent. It was targeting Hoshino, and with the planted evidence, and the information I was providing them, he would’ve been taken care of. He’d be in despair instead of having his blood shed.”

“That’s.. a lot.”

“I thought you’d be proud of me for doing such an ethical thing.”

“I am.. but can you get to how you’re here right now?” ☁️ huffed, still curious and confused.

“All that glitters is not gold, but perhaps it’s diamond. Think of me as the diamond.“

“I’m.. still not following.”

“I won’t say anything more, but I will say that I heard everything. When I was gone and you stood on the bridge. I heard it all. That’s the only reason I can actually relay this information to you.”

“So that ghost skeleton was actually you?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t have ears when I spoke, though. And I’m still confused.”

“You’re going to be, and that’s okay. I’m back now. That’s all you have to worry about.”

The two remained silent for a moment.

“Oh, I recall hearing that you’ve met Heeseung and Jungwon, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, you’re not allowed to be near them anymore. No matter the situation.”

☁️ stopped walking with furrowed eyebrows. “What? Why?”

“They’re not normal, and they’re not friendly.” Sunghoon explained, stopping as well.

“Heeseung said he watched over me while you were gone. How’s that not friendly?”

“He only did so because you didn’t pay him mind. Also because he knew I was coming back, and if anything happened to you, then there’d be a lot for him to clean up. Jungwon isn’t friendly, no matter how bubbly his voice or how much he smiles.”

☁️ nodded, and the two continued their stroll.

“So you three know each other? Where from?”

“We’re pretty much brothers. Not literally but figuratively and.. biologically.”

“I think that statement is a bit conflicting..” ☁️ mumbled.

“All you have to know is that they’re not nice. They’re biologically not capable of sympathy or compassion. You cannot be near them.”

“So are you capable of that?”

“I’m not sure.”

“So why can I be near you and not them?”

“Because you’re apart of my purpose, now. I moved here to see what would happen. And then I met you.”

“Oh..” ☁️ sighed with rolled eyes. The two began walking again. “.. And why am I apart of your purpose?”

“Well, you’re the first person who hasn’t fallen for me upon my pursuit. You can’t be manipulated or forced to do anything you don’t want to. It’s intriguing. And I want to know why.”

“That’s how it normally goes.. you can’t force-“

“That’s not what I mean. It’s okay, you won’t understand. You’ll know one day. Or you won’t.”

The two remained silent again as ☁️’s turn came about, causing the duo to slow down to a halt. The student turned to face Sunghoon, but heard the nearby bushes rustling. Noticing ☁️’s change in gaze, Sunghoon quickly turned around and scanned the area.

“I’m taking you home.”

-

“I’m also spending the night.”

“Who said you could?”

“I have a stalker now. That means you have a stalker, too. It’ll be taken care of soon, though.”

“The way you talk is so insane.. and scary.”

With pajamas on, ☁️ walked over from the bathroom to the bed and sat down. Sunghoon pulled the curtains shut as the sky became darker.

“I’m simply being honest. It’s not like anything would happen to you, though.” Sunghoon stated, pointing to himself as a way to say “I’m right here!”

“Right..” ☁️ nodded. “I have a couch you can sleep on. I’ll give you one of my pillows and blankets, too.”

“I’ll take the bed, actually.”

“Um.. no? Go over to the living room. I’ll bring the stuff out.”

“Either I sleep in the bed or we both sleep in the bed.”

☁️ stared at Sunghoon, who was unwaveringly dead set on sleeping on the bed. Sunghoon walked over to where ☁️ sat and crossed his arms.

“Fine dead boy, it’s all yours.”

“The point was to get you to lay down with me.”

Grabbing a blanket and pillow from the bed, ☁️ walked past Sunghoon.

“I know. Have a good night.”

BONUS:

☁️ awoke to being lifted from the couch bridal style. With the blanket still wrapped around ‘em, ☁️ rubbed the eyes and opened them to see Sunghoon.

“What’re you doing?” ☁️ mumbled.

“Taking you to your bed.” Sunghoon whispered back as he softly laid ☁️ onto the bed and draped the covers over ‘em. “Goodnight.”

a/n: 2 months late don’t kill me pls :,)

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[dpr-stay]

Love Lost! | LN4

Lando Norris x Reader

Warnings: A little bit of the feels, jealous!Lando, hurt/comfort, happy ending, a little bit of drunken confessions but not really, childhood bestfriends to lovers bcs i love that trope.

WC: ~3.2K

Hiya, it's been a few weeks. I've been really busy and kinda lost my inspo to write, so this is me dipping my toe back in. Hopefully it's ok. NOT EDITED (not much has changed huh)

There comes a point in every young person's life where they must look back at what they have done and realise how they could’ve done it greater. Done it faster. Done it kinder. Done it better. Whether it be a choice, an action, or some words, reflection and acknowledgement are key milestones in the development of a person's life.

Lando has had many of these moments. Such as when he had first set foot in a kart, he should’ve done it earlier. His debut season, he should’ve done it better. His schooling, he should’ve put more effort in. The realization of his feelings for his childhood best-friend, he should’ve done it faster.

It was all he could think as his eyes caught you at the bar with some random nobody leaning over your side, obviously trying to chat you up. He took a sip of his surprisingly bitter drink as he watched. The drink shouldn’t have been bitter, it was some fruity cocktail he’d bought for you before you’d arrived, but the look you were giving the guy who you were talking to certainly made it so.

The tightening of his chest went unaddressed as his first clenched around the glass stem, his mind begging to ignore the way your smile had shifted from the fake one you gave to creeps to one not dissimilar from the way you smiled at him. An elbow jolted into his side, causing his eyes to draw away from the bar, though his mind remained around 15 feet away.

One of his mates, some guy he’d met a week ago who wasn’t after his money but wouldn’t say no to sixteen free drinks, looked at him concerned. Atleast Lando thought the look was concerned, he couldn’t exactly tell as the guy's face was hidden behind a pair of douchey shades. He shouldn’t think that though, he probably owned at least ten pairs that looked the exact same.

The guy moved his head again in a silent gesture and Lando nodded, hiding his suffering behind the pretense of not stopping this guy from getting laid, returning the silent gesture. He then shrugged before moving on, quickly running up to a group of girls and placing his arms around the shoulders of two, leaving Lando to continue stewing.

Really, it wasn’t stewing. He had no reason to ‘stew’. He’d only discovered he’d felt this way recently, he hadn’t been silently grudging for years. However, as his eyes moved back to the bar and watched as the guy's hand slid from your shoulder to your back, he could definitely feel the pot boiling over within him. 

You hadn’t moved though, there was no indication that you were uncomfortable from your body language, so Lando had to accept that he wasn’t able to intervene. He trusted you as much as he liked you unfortunately, so he knew that you’d walk away or even signal if you didn’t like where this was going. He couldn’t rush in and be a knight in shining armour if there was no damsel in distress, no matter how much he hated it.

He slid down in his seat, trying not to appear too stalkerish to any people at the club as he watched the two of you interact. Last thing he wanted was rumors of him being a voyeur spreading around the media. It wouldn’t be too far off with the way the guy you were talking to was going. His hand was still sliding lower, moving from your mid back all the way down till it met the seat of the chair.

Lando could hardly hear the music pumping through the club, only focused on your body language. One slight flinch or look of discomfort and Lando would take that as his cue to storm over and create such a row that he would be heard in Azerbaijan. 

However, you didn’t move away. Lando could only watch as you adjusted in your seat, letting the guy's hand slide under your behind. You definitely didn’t need any help. The drink tasted almost acidic when Lando next took a sip, forcing himself to turn away from the bar. He came here for a good time, he didn’t need to see you getting it on.

He cleared his throat, though no one could hear him and no one had even paid attention to him in an hour. A quick glance around the club confirmed this, people engaged with their own activities while he was sat, watching someone he was in love with get hit on.

That’s not pathetic, is it? Lando thought it would be more pathetic if he acted on his impulses, walked over and stopped the random guy in his tracks. You’d probably be mad (would you?) and he didn’t think he could deal with it. Especially after watching what was happening in front of him.

I mean, you’d definitely been mad at him before, knowing a person for over a decade does that to someone, but he didn’t know how mad you would be. He’d never been in this situation before, one where he had to put his drink down and sit on his hands to stop them from punching the guy in the face. 

The fact that this was one hundred percent not healthy was all that Lando could think. He shouldn’t be putting himself through this, watching someone else touch you how you wanted to be touched. How he wanted to touch you.

God, he should leave. There was no point in staying here just to torture himself. He was a voyeur, not a sadist. He took a breath before chugging the drink you had insisted you couldn’t have because you wanted to pay for your own and then standing up and lumbering his way to the exit.

Doing the responsible thing, he arranged for an uber as he walked down the corridor to the door. The fresh air that greeted him sent a wave of feeling down his spine. He walked further away from the cue to get into the club, praying that no one would recognise him as he walked.

Luckily, no one did. Lando didn’t know if this made him feel better or worse.

It’s a funny thing, that. Lando normally liked being in the spotlight. Maybe it was growing up always being unwittingly compared to others, but he liked being special. Even in times Lando didn’t want to be recognised, because he truly didn’t at the moment, he still craved that little serotonin boost whenever someone would turn to him with stars in their eyes. 

It felt nice to be revered, nice to be seen as greater, all those things he didn’t consider himself. You’d always provided that for him. He didn’t want to come off as shallow or as a user, but your everlasting presence in his life, your consistent praise, had always made him feel good. 

God, that did make him come off as shallow. It went without saying, he thought, that he always tried to return the favour. The way you always smiled bashfully in response to his compliments always made his day brighter. 

He almost swore out loud into the empty street as he walked. He should’ve realised earlier. He’d never taken himself as the boy-next-door type, mostly because he was always someplace else, but the idea of domesticity with a person who he’d always been around, especially since it was you, made him feel incredibly warm inside. 

A warmth he doesn’t feel often. It had only come around a few times in his life, but the most notable would’ve had to have been around two weeks earlier. He was just lying in bed, you on the phone rambling about whatever you were now interested in.

Every one of his responses were some variation of “yeh” but that didn’t stop you. Eventually you’d tired yourself out and Lando had finally got a word in. He’d made some tired quip about you “never shutting up”. You’d responded in like, a joke about him not being able to keep up. You’d gone back and forth with your banter before eventually you’d both called it quits and said goodnight. 

Lando hadn’t even registered the fact he was about to say “I love you” as a sign-off before you’d hung up on him until the quiet beeping of his phone sounded. That had made him really, truly think about your years-long friendship, pondering about whether he had meant that platonically or romantically.

It hadn’t taken long for him to figure it out. After ten minutes an itching had settled in his mind that he should call you back and force you to continue talking. He missed your voice, even if it was you ranting about something he had no idea about. Even the thought of it had inspired a familiar warm feeling to bloom within him.

The warm feeling had still been present in the club, even if it was accompanied by the crushing weight of feeling mediocre. Lando almost scoffed at himself as he mindlessly kicked a rock as he walked. 

His earlier thoughts ran through his mind, cursing himself for thinking it pathetic to try and stand up for his own feelings. He should’ve said something at any point. Now you were probably dancing with the guy, ignoring the fact that Lando wasn’t even in the club.

That wasn’t true, of course. You were too kind. Something that Lando had always appreciated but made it incredibly hard in situations such as this one. The buzzing of his phone alerted him to this, a single text from you reading ‘Where r u?’

Completely inconspicuous but oh so characteristic. The shorthand made it clear you were busy, you were never one for abbreviations, but Lando refused to think about what you were busy with. He didn’t think you were ‘easy’, god no he wasn’t an ass, but he’d never seen you click so fast with someone to the point that you’d let them put their hands on you like that.

Lando didn’t know how to respond, instead checking the time on the Uber. There was no way that many people were getting Uber’s that it was a twenty minute wait. He could only sigh before scrolling back to your text. 

An answer that properly conveyed his dilemma evaded him, so he just replied with a ‘Going home’ before quickly tacking on a ‘Have fun :)’ because he felt it was rude not to. After hitting send, he put his phone in his pocket before leaning against the wall of the building closest to him, staring straight into the night sky. 

He’d only have a few minutes of respite before a familiar call of his name sounded in his ears. His head swung down out of shock, watching your hasty figure make your way towards him. You were swaying on the heels you were regretting wearing, your purse having your essentials halfway out of it.

“What the hell, man?” You asked as you stumbled closer, the drink you’d bought yourself making your already unsteady steps seem as though you’d fall over if you went too close to a crack in the pavement. 

He could only look on in incredulity as you stopped in front of him, one of your hands reaching for his arm to balance yourself. He quickly reacted, sweeping you into his side, before turning his head to look at you.

“I thought you were going to stay back.” His voice had a tone of question to it and you shook your head, swaying violently side from side as you moved it.

“No, I came with you. Gonna leave with you too.” Your words were mumbled as you spoke them, the drowsiness you felt becoming incredibly apparent. Lando tried not to react, though he found it incredibly hard. The knowledge that you’d never even planned to leave with anyone but him reassured him. The feeling he got from that reassurance made him slightly uncomfortable. As much as it made him regretful that he didn’t act earlier, no one owned you and you could do whatever you liked.

The words you spoke awoke a feeling that had been increasing ever since that phone call, the previous events of the night also hadn’t done it any favours. That feeling was protectiveness. 

“Would you like me to take you home?” He asked and you nodded against his side. He held you there while you swayed, thinking over what the feeling coursing through his veins entailed. Was it right to feel protective over something that definitely wasn’t yours?

Lando was left to ponder this as you both waited for the cab. He didn’t know if that question explicitly applied to this situation. Maybe you weren’t each others in a relationship sense, but you were definitely each others in a friendship sense. Hell, he’d consider himself yours in any circumstance. He just didn’t know if you thought the same.

As the Uber pulled up the curb, Lando walked you both over. Quickly opening the door and guiding you in, he then rushed to the other side and got in the car. He gave the driver the address of your house before leaning back into his seat.

It took approximately five seconds after the car had started that your head fell on his shoulder. He froze, not daring to move a muscle in fear that he would disrupt your sleep. A quick glance down out of the corner of his eyes showed that you actually weren’t asleep, you were staring up at him. Your eyes looked as though they were shining as they stared at him, and he couldn’t help the heat rushing to his cheeks

Your expression looked starstruck, as though you’d never seen him before. He quickly tapped your shoulder in a silent ‘you okay?’ gesture. You didn’t respond, causing him to look down and look at you.

Unknowingly, he had positioned you at eye level with each other. He could feel the breaths escaping your lips as you breathed out, the closeness a feeling he decided he would cherish because of the highly unlikely chance of ever feeling it again.

Or he could call it, lean in and deal with the repercussions. He was tempted, of course, it would be such an easy way to just rip the bandaid off. He wouldn’t have to deal with a confession or the rejection. He could just lean in for a few seconds then open the door of the Uber and roll out, never having to see you again to face the rejection he could sense. 

After a few seconds he pulled the plug, deciding that the longer he held his head so close to yours, the creepier it came off. Neither of you talked the rest of the journey, relying on the old tunes of Oasis that the driver decided to put on.

Eventually, you arrived at your address. One look at Lando convinced him to walk you inside. He’d call another Uber, regardless of wait times.

You opened the door to your building, holding it open for Lando which he acknowledged with a smirk. You just rolled your eyes, the moment from the Uber well and truly passed. Regardless, you both moved to your elevator, moving in as you clicked the button of your floor. 

There wasn’t many people around, it was too late, so it was just you and Lando in the elevator. A space that would normally be full of conversation was unusually quiet. 

Lando knew why he was quiet, he was recalling the moment in the Uber, slightly mourning what could’ve happened if only he was braver. He didn’t know why you were quiet, probably thinking about how weird he was acting.

But, frankly, the night was almost over. Just another couple of minutes and Lando could start the journey home, able to think over how that man had touched you and how he would never be able to do that. He should definitely try to move on. It would be too uncomfortable to spend a long amount of time secretly loving his best friend.

The lift dinged and you both walked over, moving side by side down the corridor till you eventually reached your door. You both paused outside your door. You didn’t make any move to grab your key and instead just looked at Lando, an unfamiliar look on your face. You almost seemed resigned. Lando didn’t know why.

You then sighed before moving to your purse, rummaging for a second before pulling out your key. A quick turn and your door was open. You turned back to Lando, a small smile on your lips.

“Goodnight Lando.” You said sweetly and Lando returned the gesture quietly, pulling you in for a small hug. After you separated, you seemed to hesitate for a second before shaking your head and going inside. Lando watched you close the door and heard it click before he called out one last ‘goodbye’.

Except the words that left his lips were not ‘goodbye’. They were ‘love you’. Completely unconscious slip of the tongue but it resulted in Lando completely freezing. How the hell had he done that?

He couldn’t hear any footsteps from your side of the door and Lando was left gaping as he processed what he said and the fact that you definitely heard. It was way past the time to say it was an accident when he regained any sort of agency.

He immediately turned away from your door, poised as though to make a getaway. However, the sound of your door opening stopped him. Oh god, how was he going to write this off.

He slowly turned, making eye contact with you as you stood in the doorway of your apartment. Your expression was more shocked than blank, but it was definitely on the border. He could see the question in your face, but he could only respond with his completely gobsmacked expression.

He didn’t know what you took this to mean, but you smiled. A bright smile. A smile more radiant than any one he’d seen you give the man from the bar. It took you a second to gather your thoughts to speak, he could see you formulating something to say in your mind.

“I love you too.” Was your response and if Lando’s jaw could drop further, it did. He was not expecting any of this. If he were to confess his feelings, he thought there would’ve been a lot more of his tears involved and a lot more planning. However, here you were, shyly returning his feelings. A smile that matched your own spread across his face and you giggled at his reaction.

“Really?” He asked dumbly, something you’d tease him about later. You nodded.

It took him less than two seconds to cross from where he was standing awkwardly in the corridor to your door frame, and it took him even less time to kiss you.

And, for once, Lando felt relieved that he didn’t do anything a different way.

hope you likey

[pixeechix21]

Toxic!stalker! Ghost

Summary: you're petty and decide to teach Simon (Ghost) a lesson. Too bad he’s a stubborn cunt. He tracks you down in the club, with another guy, after kicking him out he decides to show you who’s really in control

TW: very rough, TOXIC, explicit, jealousy, harm, degradation, praise (kinda) there’s more but IDK soooo…. Oh well. Plz read at own risk this is very toxic stalkerish

You got a message from him just, short and blunt.

-Don’t go out tonight.

you huff out annoyed at how he’s so controlling. 

- Fuck you don’t own, just watch me xx.

 You type back furiously then turn to your best friend, “imma need something stronger,” you say to her as you rummage through her room looking for the vodka. 

“He still at it? You know you really need to fix your obsession with those types babe,” she shakes her head smiling as she zips up her dress then goes to help you with yours. 

“Get back to me when you follow your own advice,” you joke laughing. She gives you a playful slap and continues with her makeup.

At the club you feel your head swimming already. You just want to get lost to the flow of the music, and push Ghost to the back of your head. The bouncer gives you both a sleazy up down, that prompts you to go deeper into the club. “Y/N!” you hear a familiar voice, wide eyed you make direct contact with Simon’s hazel eyes. “Look at you! You bonnie lasses,” Soap’s accent is heavier as he gives you a drunken hug and one to Eve. 

You smile trying your best not to give in to the urge to look at Ghost again. “I thought you weren’t going out,” you shout over the music. Soap goes on to explain that Simon wanted to go out one last time before the next deployment. 

“Keep this between us he’s been acting moody all day,” Gaz chips in laughing drunkenly hooping an arm around Eve for support. He says it loud enough for him to hear, Simon takes a stiff drink ignoring the light jabs. “Been a Krabby patty today haven’t ya,” Gaz pinches Simon's cheeks before they’re swatted away.  

“Oh my god i love this song!” Eve shouts and drags Gaz away to dance. Not wanting to stay closer to Simon’s cold glare. You go to walk past him, but his large hand grips your elbow pulling you in closely, he dips his head so that you can hear him, “you look stunning. Watch your back,” with that he lets go of you. Blushing you walk away to join Gaz and Eve’s little dance circle. 

All night you can feel his eyes burning in the back of you. You’re annoyed at how he was never meant to be there, and now is deliberately ruining your night. You’ve had enough. I’ll show him, you think pettily. A guy behind you starts to guide your hips in sync with his movements. Bingo. You let yourself go with him, dancing and feeling your bodies pressed closely. Arms snaking around your bodies, gripping holding. He breathes the stinks of alcohol as his mouth comes close to yours. Over his shoulders you see Simon glaring at you, you pull the guy's head closer to you, “do you want to get out of here?” You say lightly biting his ear, you can feel him shiver under your hands. He pulls back looking like a college frat boy about to get his first girl, ever. “Yeah, I know some people,” his fingers dig into your ass. You almost want to barf at how he’s touching you. But you know it’ll peeve Simon off, he wouldn’t let anyone touch you anyways. Eve gives you a wide eyed worried look “HE’S UGLY DON'T DO IT” shaking of the head. You mouth “it’s fine,” and she shrugs, gives up and goes back to Gaz.

“Take us somewhere they can’t hear us,” you say looking up sultrily. Without warning his lip engulfed yours, sloppily tonguing your mouth open. It’d nasty you’re not going to lie but, you pull away. He takes your hand and  leads you away to the VIP rooms. Looking over your shoulder you make sure to catch Simon’s eyes, but he’s already looking at you. His eyes are dangerously calm tracking your movements through the crowd. Soap is dancing awkwardly around him, almost spilling as he tries to drink. He leads you away up a level to a quiet room, inside there is a view of the dance floor below and plush couches, looking around you spot it. The CCTV. You walk yourself over to the central couch and look up at him, the camera in front you. He walks up to you, eagerly going to pull down his pants. Instantly you reach out your hand and stop him. “Come here and kiss me,” you pull him down to you. Again with that sloppy kiss. 

He’s on the couch and you straddle him.

Simon had watched you get led away from him by a sleazy, college boy that didn’t know how to handle an ass like yours. He was furious at you, he wants nothing more than to teach you your place. Soap spots him, “who’s pissed your porridge big guy,” Soap follows his eyes and chuckles. “Cheeky one that lass is,” he pats Simon on his back. 

“I’ll be back, don’t get lost,” Simon says and walks off, behind him Soap laughs, “can’t promise anything!” 

Simon finds himself heading straight for the security room. The small weazily boy sputtered as he saw Ghost's large figure enter. “I think it’s your time to leave,” he says. The boy tries to protest but as Ghost comes closer he scrambles out of his seat and runs out of the room. Simon looks for you on the large sets of screens. He clicks on your room, his blood rushes instantly to his cock. There you were beautiful, but held by the greedy boy’s hands. He watches you, knowing that you know that he knows he’s watching you. The way you ground your ass into his lap, he wishes that it was him. He sits there for a little longer, getting harder as he feels himself at you pleasuring himself on top of another man, knowing that you too wish it was Simon instead. You toss your head back, making eye contact with the camera, smirking. Simon groans at how devilish your acting. He catches the boy’s hand shoveling themselves under your clothes and he loses it. He storms out of the room and heads straight for the private room. He didn’t even knock as he slammed the door open. The boy beneath you pushes you off scared shitless. You smile at his entrance. “Always knows how to make an entrance,” you laugh out sitting standing up to confront him. He has a crazed look as you stand there makeup smudged, the strap of your dress half off your shoulder. 

“Wh- who are you? Do you know who I am!” The college boy stands up looking pathetic with his pants unbuttoned and a wrinkled shirt. Simon takes two strides and takes him by the shirt.

Baring his teeth, “I don’t fucking care, you could be the god damn prime minister and you still wouldn’t be allowed to touch her,” he grounds out through gritted teeth. The boys looked frightened half to death. 

“Let go of me!” he says, voice cracking as he tries to sound bravado. “She didn’t want you, she picked me. Leave so we were busy.”

“Trust me she didn’t, you leave before you lose that nosey little pecker,” Simon threatens. You watch him, biting your lips and clenching your thighs as you imagine how far he’d be willing to go for you. He shoves the boy to the ground, causing him to stumble and fall then crawls to his feet running out whilst shouting, “my father will hear about this!” 

Simon doesn’t give him a second thought, turning to you. He comes to you towering over you, chest rising and falling in anger.

God he’s gorgeous when he’s angry at you, you think desperately. You smile prettily at him making him growl in frustration. “What am I going to do wihh a little brat like you, hm? Tell me love,” his rough hand touches your bare thigh, riding up.

He takes a step forward, you can feel his muscles tensing as you lay a hand innocently on his chest. “I don’t know, whatever you want Simon,” you practically purr as his thumb makes circles on the inside of your thigh. 

“After that show, I have no choice but to punish you,” his voice is husky, gently grabbing your throat. Your breaths mingle. His size and the ever looming threat suspends in the air around you, replacing the vital oxygen with pure lust. You clench your thighs again in anticipation.

He looks done and your misshapen outfit, slowly his fingers travel from your throat to your shoulders he slips off one strap then the other. You stand there as the dress falls helplessly to the floor. In the red and blue lights he can see your curves, light up angelically. He doesn’t know if he should worship you like a goddess or show you how much of a devil he can be. 

You nipples are hard from the wanting. Your panties are already soaked through. You look down to his tightening pants and bite your bottom lip, at having him fuck you. “Such a pretty thing,” he says absentmindedly.

He takes the back of your neck and crashes his lips into yours. This kiss wasn't at all like the one before. This kiss made your head swim, and your stomach to flutter. Your hands instantly take hold of him, pulling and clawing at anything so that your bodies are closer together. He steals all the air in your lungs as if he was taking your soul, locking it up so that you can never reach it. You absorb him groans as he gives in to you. This isn’t sexy like what you’ve seen in the movies, it’s messy, desperate, intoxicating. He pinches and teases one of your nipples causing you to moan.

 Breaking apart, lips swollen, he pushes you down to the couch. Above you his eyes dart across your body lusciously remembering every inch for when he’s out in deployment. “Open your legs, shouldn’t be that hard for you, love” he stands there. You look up at him unsure at what he’s going to do. You never knew what that psycho was planning. Obediently you open your legs. Between then he could see the wet patch, and stifles the urge to rip them off and eat you out so much that you won’t even be able to scream his name.

“Good. Show me what you do when I’m not here,” he says, not taking his eyes off of you. You move your fingers down to your soaking cunt. Underneath the panties you start to work yourself, trying to break eye contact. The blood rushes to his cock more. The pain of him wanting to fuck you blurs his thoughts. Seeing you fuck youself was adorable, how you wriggled and struggled to meet his eyes. His pants become unbearably tight and he has to adjust slightly. “Simon,” you whine, bucking your hips as you start to finger yourself.

“That’s it my sweet,” he rumbles. “Imagine that my cock filling you up,” his words fuel your imagination. You whine and moan as you come around your fingers. Splayed out you look like a meal ready to be devoured. Simone drops to his knees and rips your panties off, removing your finger with his tongue. He laps up and down, licking you, circling your swollen clit. Hands pushing your hips to the couch firmly as he tongue fucks your pussy. You hold tightly to his hair trying to grind against his face so that you can come easily. “You don’t come until I say so. Understand?” he says against you. You look down at him and weakly nod your head. He doesn't stop this tormenting, not until you were saying incoherent words begging him to let you come. “Not fucking yet.” 

He has to fuck you. He’s already dripping precum as he takes his member out of his boxers. You lick your lips at the sight. “You want it?” You eagerly say yes, eyes glowing as he takes the tip and puts it to your mouth. “Tounge out for me,” you stick out your tongue. He takes the tip and taps it on your tongue, lubricating it with your spit. You can taste the slight slatiness as lick the precum off. 

On top of you he crushes your body, the pressure reassuring you that this is reality. He teases his tip into you, feeling you clench around him he grunts at your tightness. You feel heavenly to him as you take him in inch by inch like the good slut you are. “That’s it every single inch,” he whispers to your ear. The couch creaks lightly as he starts to pump in and out of you. You feel your climax build up again as the friction rubs off against you. He groans and swears under his breath as he unfurls from sanity. It hurts so fucking bad. “Fuck Simon- please harder-” you’re cut off as he starts to absolutely rail into you. “You like that?” he bites your neck and kisses it, leaving a mark. One hand holding both of yours above your head, the other clamping down on you thigh. “Shit Simon I need to come,” you scream in the crook of his neck.

“Who’s fucking pussy is this?” He goes harder. You try to get the words out but have lost all ability to think, “you shouldn’t have teased me with that frat boy. You really thought he knew how to fuck you?” you shake your head, eyes tearing up at his force. “This pussy is mine, repeat that. This beautiful pussy is mine.”

“This- this-” 

“-beautiful pussy.” he urges. His fucking get faster, you milk him as he goes on.

“This beautiful pussy is- is yours,” you manage to get out. His lips are on yours eating you up, tongue dominating yours. The wet sounds of your soaking cunt being fucked by him fill the room. The sound of flesh against flesh. “Good, come on me,” he puts his hand between you and then circles your clit. You can’t hold it any longer, a slurry of words escape and you are finally able to come. As you clench around he’s unable to hold back, you can feel his cum seeping out of you, as your juices mix and drip down his cock. What a night.

I can’t think of an ending, it took me waaay too long to write this and tomorrow I’ve got a full day so my bad if it’s not edited

(Also please note that yes this an/ can be an example of a healthy relationship, if you feel like you've experienced this plz be careful loves xx)

[st0rygirl3]

Hottest Killer part 2 - Matt Sturniolo ༊*·˚

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══ ═ ═ ═ ══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

*HEAVILY BASED ON GHOST FACE AND THE CRAZY STALKER VIBE*

Part 1

What are you supposed to do when there’s been reports of crazy killer running around your neighborhood and once he finally gets to you, decides murder isn’t the right plan?

⚠️Warnings⚠️:

🔞MDNI 🔞 but I’m not ur mother

fem!reader x ROUGH!dom!Matt Sturniolo Suggestive content, smut content, stalker content, stalkerish, talks of being crazy, talk about murderers, kinda r8pe but overall consensual. Full filth, choking, spanking, and hair pulling kinks, P in V, unprotected sex (please be safe) {kinda cheesy cutesy fluff} aftercare!

A/N: o.m.g. I didn’t not expect part one to get 33 notes!!! That is so completely insane to me, thank you so much for liking my story and interacting! So ofc I had to make a part 2, and maybe a part 3 depending on where this one goes and what yall want! Thank you so much again and enjoy! My writing is still improving but I hope you enjoy!

It had been a few weeks since your interaction with Matt, and god you could not get him off your mind. Staying up till 12, waiting for his return, holding the note in your hand, but he never showed. It was Friday, 8pm and you’re sitting on your bed laid back with your laptop resting on your lap.

Your phone began to buzz, and your head snapped over to look at it. Confused, you grabbed the phone and looked where the name or phone number of the person should be, but all it read was ‘Unknown’. Immediately part of you hoped it was Matt, but the other half prayed it was anyone but. Yes, he said he’d be back, but back for what? To kill you for real this time?

You took in a deep breath and clicked the answer button, to which a darker voice than you remembered from that night came through. “Comfy gorgeous?” The dark voice said, laced with an uncomfortable feeling. Your stomach sank at the voice, it sounded somewhat familiar, but not familiar enough to be Matt. “I’m sorry who’s this?” You responded nervously. The caller was like a dog, able to sense your nervousness and fear, answering with a dark chuckle. “You know who it is, sweetheart.” The voice lightened up more, still holding an uncomfortable dark tone, but the voice almost warped, into Matt’s voice, like a voice filter had been turned off. “The one you’ve been touching yourself to. Can’t get me outta your head after that night can ya princess?” The voice said cockily. You were speechless, unsure of what to say. How did he know that? You looked up and saw your large bedroom window, with curtains dripping down the sides, not fully closed. The sky was pitch black. “Matt?” You asked shakily. “Yes princess?” The voice answered. You got up and walked to your window looking outside, where you saw Matt standing in your backyard, looking up at you with piercing blue eyes, just as you remembered. He had his hat on and mask covering the bottom half of his face. He had his phone up to his ear, and a brown bag in the other hand. “Brought food for you. Care to come open the door?” The voice said as you stumbled back in surprise. You somehow dropped your phone on the floor but didn’t mind it. You grabbed the knife under your pillow just incase.

Creeping down the steps you turned left, walking to where your back door is. You walked to the back door carefully, placing your hand on the handle as you saw Matt began to calmly approach the door from the outside. You began pulling the door, shaking but a weird excitement seemed to counteract that. As you fully slid the door open you backed up, and Matt walked forward, until your back was pressed against the counter, and he was centimeters away from you. He placed the brown food bag around you on the counter. His gaze directed to the knife in your hand, making you nervous. “Gonna try and kill me?” Matt said with a raised eyebrow, sounding almost amused. “I-it was just for self defense.” You said defensively. “I already told you, you are way too pretty to murder.” Matt said placing his thumb on your chin, and curled his pointer finger and placing it under your chin, tilting you to look up at him. You guys stayed there, making intense eye contact for a solid minute, questioning eachother through gazes. Having a conversation with our talking, but Matt cut the silence. “Would you like to eat?” Matt said releasing your chin. You walked away from him and towards the brown bag, which you approached cautiously. You grabbed it quickly, opening it slowly. Inside you saw sealed sushi rolls. Your eyes widened, you loved sushi. You quickly smiled grabbing out a roll and chop sticks. You ran to the living room and sat down on your couch, excited to eat. Matt hung up his hat and mask on the coat hanger, grabbing the bag and following you to the living room. When you saw his face again, with stubble of his beard your stomach turned.

You shook your head, he was a murderer, a criminal, you can’t like him- no way. But fuck those eyes, that perfect jawline…it killed you.

You looked back up at him as he had a hand on the back of his head rubbing it awkwardly, awaiting an invitation to join you. He looked almost flustered? You sighed and patted the seat next to you, which he quickly took, resting his arm on the top of the couch behind you. Spreading his legs wide enough to make you feel some way. The postion he was in made you wet at the sight. You pushed down the emotions and looked at the tv, fumbling with the remote to find something to watch. You finally decided on some 2000s movie. You set the sushi on the coffee table and turned to Matt who was already staring at you with a smirk, and his head leaned back on the couch. Your face grew red, you could feel it heating up. The dirty thoughts started clouding your mind, filling your eyes with lust. Imaging his veiny hands holding your neck as he pounded yo- “Y/N.” Matt interrupted. You quickly snapped back to reality, finding his gaze again. “Y-yeah?”you said nervously. Matt wasted no time, “How bad do you want to kiss me right now?” He said with a smirk, leaning in closer. “More than I want to…” you spat out. “Yeah?” Matt said voice laced with lust and need. “Then what are you waiting for?” Matt said getting even closer, your noses almost touching. His hand began running up your thigh causing you to gasp. You placed you hand on his cheek, and before you can talk yourself out of it you smash your lips onto his. You fight his tongue for dominance, and once you begin winning Matt grabs your hips and moves you to his lap, never breaking the kiss. You put both hands on either side of his face, just to bring him as close at possible. You begin rocking your hips against him growing erection, causing him to let out a groan in your mouth. He tangled one hand in your hair and kept the other planted on your ass, squeezing ever so lightly. He broke the kiss, letting you catch your breath. “This wrong…you’re a criminal, I should have you arrested.” You said shaking your head. “Oh sweet girl, I am not a murderer. I’d never hurt a soul.” Matt smirked. You just sighed, against your better judgement leaned back in for another more passionate kiss. “I think I’d let you hurt me.” You sighed. Matt lifted his hand and wrapped it softly around your neck, causing the heat between your legs begin to pool. “Yeah? Thing is..I could never hurt you.” Matt said as he began kissing your neck, leaving hickeys. “Shorts and panties off.” Matt demanded. You quickly got up and removed your shorts and panties as he removed his sweats and boxers. You got back on Matt, hovering above his throbbing cock. He looked up at you, “Do you wanna do this Y/N?” Matt asked sweetly. You nodded quickly, “please.” You begged. Matt placed his hands on your hips and began lowering you down, stretching out your walls inch by inch. You let out whines as his thick long cock spread you out slowly. Desperately you sunk quickly in his cock, taking him in full. Causing him to let out a groan, burying his nose in your neck. Matt lifted you up a little, supporting you wait. Matt began railing you upward, starting slow. “That’s it baby, taking me like a good girl.” Matt praised keeping his eyes on yours.

“Faster Matt please!” You begged. Matt took your request and began thrusting harder, grunting with each thrust as you moaned uncontrollably. You couldn’t control the sounds slipping out. “Go on, tell me what you’re thinking beautiful girl.” Matt demanded with breathy moans in between. “I’m thinking how fucking….” You gasped with a moan. “How fucking sexy you are…how bad I need you.” You confessed. Matt flipped you on all fours, gripping your hips he began mercilessly slamming into you. You began screaming his name, his dirty words praising you. He grabbed your hair in a pony and pulled on it. You felt your stomach began to tighten, your worlds colliding. “G-gonna cum!” You screeched. “Cum for me baby.” Matt urged. Your walls tightened, begging for his cum. Matt’s thrust began getting sloppier and you could tell his was close. “Inside of me…” you begged. Matt groaned as he sunk his cock fully inside of you, filling you up completely. Matt fell onto your back, his chest crashing with your back. Matt put in a few more thrusts, finishing you off completely. As he pulled out and you crashed down he sat up next to you catching his breath. You flipped over quickly and sat up on your knees on the couch. You grabbed his cheeks turning him to face you. “You’re not leaving again.” You demanded. Matt smiled softly. “Anything for my princess.” Matt smirked before carrying you bridal style up to your bathroom. Setting you in the stand up shower he turned on the hot water, climbing in next to you, finally fully naked. You clung to him as he held your waist, he began rubbing in soap all around your body. “God you’re beautiful.” He praised you smiled putting your forehead against his upper chest. He kissed your head sweetly.

After the shower he dried you off, taking you to your room and throwing you on the bed with a laugh. You giggled as he came to hover over you, his hands on either side of your head.

You felt something touching your stomach, looking down to see his hard erect penis. You began palming him as he let out a groan.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish Y/N…” Matt warned.

People who asked for part 2 !!! (I’ll make a tag list thingy soon❤️)

@vschrissturn @townofangels

[empty-vessel-of-a-person]

What we know (and love) about Sylus so far

This are only my general thoughts and opinion about Sylus introductions to the game. I may have missed something and wrong about something so I appreciate your input. Cheers!!!

He let M/C go back to Linkon City unharmed. Clear “The Nest” and gave her a brotch that allows her to go to N109 Zone whenever she wants to. She is important to him more than what he let on.

He wants to resonate with her. The intention is really unknown to me but when she finally does, he was calm and more appreciative of her.

I have to go back to the story cause I know I missed something. Either they share the same half of the Aether Core or they both have Aether Cores.

It occurs to me that M/C is the Onichynus Target, not because they want to harm her but because their leader (Sylus) is looking for her.

He helf free her in a way, making sure she is safe from everything underground or anything from his world (figuratively). But he warns her about Linkon. My thoughts about this is he is aware of the remaining warriors of Phylos who are after her. And maybe, just maybe, the Lemurians that are aware of Rafayel giving his heart to her causing the downfall of his civilization. It’s kinda hard to swallow but the possibility is there and it is Scary.

As from Sylus’s phone calls and memories, he is monitoring her almost 24/7. Borderline stalkerish but due to his awareness of the looming danger from Linkon, I guess he is just an extremely cautious man. He knows she cannot force her to stay with him so he does everything and anything to ensure her safety all the time.

With all the given facts, it’s really easy to fall in love with him but given their position and upbringing they are ment to discreetly meet and be with each other. It’s kinda heartbreaking to me that in Moonlit Orchid Greeting, he mentioned rendezvous instead of date because they cannot meet freely.

One of the most notable things about him is the fact that he casually say that he is in fact in love with M/C. He never beet around the bushes with his feelings. He lays his heart to her so freely and I swoon. Literally convulsing like it’s me he is pouring his heart to. Source: Razor Grip:

Final Thoughts

I feel like the next chapters of the main story will be darker than the N109 Zone Arc. This is due to the fact that instead of answers, we are left with more questions about the Aether Core and where it came from.

But this time, thanks to Sylus, someone is there for M/C who exactly knows how to deal with Aether Core and maybe and hopefully finds a way to free them both and the others from protocore syndrome. And with this I hope they entwine Sylus’s story with Zayne. I want this 2 to meet even just once.

Lastly, I admit that indeed Sylus finds his way to my heart. But Zayne will always be my number one. 😉😉😉