#i /could/ have waited until oc kiss week

[direwombat]

run, rabbit, run | kit cross x sybille la roux x jacob seed | ~2k | M

much love to @socially-awkward-skeleton​, for letting me borrow kit and play dolls with her, i hope I did her justice <3

All Sybille wants is one good day. 

Strike that.

All Sybille wants is a day that isn’t bad. Perhaps a middling, uneventful one, if God could spare the generosity. One that she can look back on and say, “Yup, nothing exciting happened, and it was great.” She’d give just about anything for a fucking break. A single day to catch her breath from the ragged pace she’s been pushed into.

But apparently that’s too much for her to ask, because everything is going downhill with the speed and force of a goddamn avalanche. The Valley is free, but John fled to Joseph’s island before she could take him into custody. Rachel is safe and the smothering clouds of Bliss are slowly blowing East, out of the Henbane, but she lost Cross to whatever the fuck is going on in the mountains.

One second the two had been drawing up battle plans to take Joseph down.

The next, her former coworker (and friend if she’s feeling generous) was sliding a bowl of what Sybille chooses to believe was raw ground beef through the bars of the cage holding her hostage.

She did her trials, and this time someone was kind enough to leave her next to the bloody pile of those who died by her hands, rather than on top of it. 

But the amount of time given to lick her wounds has been getting noticeably shorter. 

She runs, pumping her arms and legs until her breath goes ragged and the taste of copper tickles the back of her throat. The frigid pre-dawn air pierces her lungs like ice with every inhale while her muscles burn with exertion. 

The worst part is that she has no idea how long they’ve been tracking her. It’s only within the past hour they’ve decided to close in. The Chosen hunting parties were annoying, but she knew how to avoid them. But of course, that meant Jacob started hunting her down himself. That was bad enough. At least when it was just him, her odds of escaping were a coin toss — it could go either way. But having both Jacob and Kit pursuing her? 

She’s fucked. 

All she can do is be smart about where she runs and pray she’s faster than they are. 

Clawing branches rake over her skin and clothes, slicing shallow cuts and ripping strips of fabric from her body. At this point, she barely feels it over her thudding pulse and her feet pounding against the forest floor. The blood beading on her face and the ache in her bones are nothing compared to the beautiful and excruciating agony that will likely come when they catch her. 

When, she realizes dreadfully. Not if.

She sees the trap coming long before she stumbles into it, but the momentum she’s built isn’t stopped so easily. It’s little more than a flash of red hair darting through the densely grown trees, but it’s enough to tip her off. She’s heading straight for one of them — Kit, she thinks. Not tall enough to be Jacob — but she’s locked in her current trajectory. Any kind of pivot now would just break her ankle. 

It all happens so fast. 

A whistle rings out.

She dares to look behind her. Jacob is there, his rifle in his hands, but he isn’t aiming it. 

Pain explodes in her shoulder and the force of the arrow’s impact is enough to knock her down. She falls, ass-over-teakettle, down a sloping hill. 

She’s lucky she didn’t break her goddamn neck. 

A creaking moan is pushed from her lungs as she lay stunned in the dirt and pine needles. Slowly, she pushes herself to her hands and knees, feebly attempting to catch her breath. The world bends and swims as she moves her head, and she’s not sure whether it’s because she hit her head or if it’s from the Bliss so crudely injected into her bloodstream. With a grunt, she breaks the fletching from the shaft, but makes no move to push the arrowhead through. If history serves, someone will take care of that for her once she’s unconscious. 

For now, she moves with trembling limbs, crawling to the closest tree and seating herself against its trunk. Pressing her hand to the wound and applying pressure, she watches as Kit and Jacob stalk down the hill towards her. 

“This is gonna get old, eventually,” she says as they close the distance. Fuck her lungs ache. She spits out a thick wad of foamy phlegm into the dirt beside her. “This can’t go on forever.”

“Maybe for you,” Jacob says. He swings his rifle by its strap as he shoulders it, coming to crouch in front of her.

Kit circles around the tree, leisurely twirling her hunting knife in her hand before stopping and squatting beside her as well. “Getting tired, Bunny?” she asks, and were it not for the hungry gleam in those icy eyes, Sybille might have thought she was bored. 

“You know how these things work,” Jacob says condescendingly. “You run, we hunt. Predators need prey, Deputy, and that’s what you are to us.”

Sybille rolls her eyes and scoffs, but it isn’t enough to hide her body’s betrayal. For some sick fucking reason, hearing him put it so bluntly causes her pulse to flutter and heat pool low in her gut. She squirms just enough where she sits to get Jacob’s teeth to flash dangerously. “I think our little Jackrabbit likes that idea,” he says to Kit. Then he turns his attention back to her, his voice dropping lecherously. “That what you want, pet? You want us to keep hunting you down? Do whatever we want when we catch you?”  

He makes no attempt to hide the way his eyes rove over her body, pausing only to admire the low dip of her tanktop’s collar and the way blood smears tantalizingly over her skin. 

And as fucked up as it is, the notion makes Sybille’s cunt clench, and her underwear, already damp with sweat, grows even wetter. The idea of being pinned beneath the two of them, their teeth at her throat — helpless, caught, consumed; Jacob fucking into her while Kit sits on her face, the two taking their pleasure from her with only the barest regard for her own — is one that excites her more than she cares to admit. She swallows thickly, her chin tilting up in what she tells herself is defiance, but is actually little more than a means to bear her throat. 

When she doesn’t answer immediately, Kit’s fingers thread through her hair, almost tenderly, before gripping her roughly by the roots and yanking her head back. “You’ve been asked a question, Bunny. You should probably answer,” Kit coos, all false kindness and venomously saccharine. Then, she leans in close, nipping at Sybille’s earlobe, and trailing the edge of her blade across the exposed skin of her sternum. “But between you and me, it’s more fun if you don’t.”

Everything about this is utterly humiliating, and the mercy of a Bliss induced sleep evades her. She supposes her God isn’t a merciful one, after all. Her eyes flutter shut and she lets out a shuddering breath. “Yes, sir,” she says. A flush blooms far too hot across her face. 

Kit pulls on her hair again, nails digging into her scalp, causing her eyes to fly open as she cries out in surprise. “At attention, soldier,” Kit sneers. “Eyes on your superior.”

The growl in response that Sybille lets out is low, but ultimately toothless. Nothing more than the sounds of a cornered animal long since beaten into submission. She refrains from hissing an incredibly petty, I outranked you at the woman tugging at her hair. As if the ranks they held in their former lives meant anything anymore. As if she spent more than just a few weeks as a Staff Sergeant before getting herself blown up and sent home.

She may gnash her teeth, but she knows better than to bite. The muzzle trained her well. 

Jacob takes her jaw in one of his massive hands, further pinning her in place and forcing eye contact. “Yes, sir, what?” he asks. The smile tugging at his lips is infuriatingly smug. Victorious. At this point, they’re just playing with their food. 

She has half a mind to spit in his face. Probably would have if Kit weren’t there to swiftly put her in her place — although, her stomach flips in a way that makes her think she may not mind that. Instead, she flares her nostrils and swallows what little pride she has left like a bitter pill. “Yes, sir. I want that.”

He clicks his tongue, moving his hand just enough to press his thumb to her chapped and bleeding lower lip. It takes every ounce of restraint she has not to swipe her tongue out and draw the finger into her mouth. “Use your words,” he tuts. 

Maybe it’s the blood loss or maybe it’s the Bliss, but her mind is so foggy that the words slip out far easier than she thought they would. “I want you both to keep hunting me,” she says, her eyes hazily drifting between the two of them. Her voice sounds so distant in her own ears and she barely recognizes the sound of it, thick and rasping with desire. “Want you to claim me when you catch me.” 

Kit makes a low, pleased sound. Her grip in Sybille’s hair loosens, but she doesn’t let go entirely. Not yet. Just how she’s still managing to cling to consciousness despite the weight of her eyelids, so too does Kit keep her locked in place. Neither of them have been dismissed yet. 

He swipes his thumb across Sybille’s cheek, smearing the blood from one of the many scratches. “Good girl,” he says, before moving in for a bruising kiss. He crashes his mouth  against hers, his demanding tongue pushing past the seam of her lips and prying them open. She moans, her free hand darting out to claw her fingers into his field jacket, unsure of whether she’s trying to push him away or draw him closer. 

The heat of Kit’s body closes in and the cold kiss of her blade is instead replaced by her hand at the base of Sybille's throat. Another tongue licks inside her mouth, causing her to shudder and for her eyes to roll back in her head. The feeling is so foreign, so overwhelming. She’s kissed both of them — Kit only once in a moment of mutual weakness, and Jacob many times against her better judgment — and her experiences have left her dizzy and breathless. 

This time is no different. 

The intensity of both of them combine and multiply exponentially. Biting teeth, probing tongues, Jacob gripping her jaw like a vice so she can’t move — only take what they’re giving her — and Kit’s hand squeezes just enough to restrict airflow without outright strangling her. Her back arches against the trunk of the tree holding her upright as they both steal the breath from her lungs, hungry and consuming. Claiming. 

Just as she asked.

By the time they part, Sybille is about ready to pass out. Without Kit or Jacob supporting her head, it rolls like it’s too heavy for her neck to support. The fingers gripping Jacob’s jacket loosen and her arms drop like lead. She sighs, looking pathetically at both of them as her vision begins to blur. “I don’t…I don’t think I can move,” she breathes.

“I know, sweetheart,” Jacob says, and he ruffles her hair like she’s a fucking dog. Even more embarrassingly, she leans into it like she’s one, too. Then he’s lifting her from where she sits on the forest floor. He’s careful enough to avoid jostling the arrow in her shoulder, although at this point, she’s numb enough that he could probably push it through without her feeling a damn thing. He heaves her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and he says, “Let’s get you home.”

“M’re trials?” she slurs sleepily. 

“Not the kind you’re used to,” he answers, rising to his feet. Kit does the same and  gives her a knowing smirk. Something playfully malicious glitters in blue eyes. 

But before Sybille can ask what the fuck that’s supposed to mean, the Bliss finally pulls her under.

[s-4pphics]

where we meet. (e.w.)

when ur a monsterfucker n its kinktober lol am i right guys

*silence*

…..

thank u 4 the pointers baby :3 ilysm @elliesbelle

wc;cw: 17.8k, baker!oc, demon!ellie, HEAVY ANGST [mentions underage drinking + alcoholism + drunk driving + car accidents + death], oc’s an eldest daughter… yeah, HORROR? [gore + animal death/mutilation? + vomit + idk scary shit like blood n stuff], SMUT!!!!![HEAVY DUBCON + sexual tension + ellie shape shifts LOL + her tongue is barbed and forked and long like a fruit rollup + blood drinking + fucking outside HAHA + splash of sadism + edging + tentacles WOOO THIS BITCH IS SHAKING THE TABLE!!! + pain kink + spit but venomous + lots of cum/squirting + anal/d!p + err restraint? + oral + crazy size kink + dirty talk + masturbation? + dumbification/mind break + dacryphilia + burning/marking

“Alright, my love! A dozen red velvet cupcakes, four slices of carrot cake, and ten brownies!” 

You handed two large brown bags filled with desserts over to your favorite regular, Roxanna, “I threw in two complementary cannolis, don’t tell Hattie, please!” You whispered. 

The older woman laughed, turning to depart with the sweet treats, “She ain’t getting a word outta me. Thank you, baby. See you soon.” 

“Have an amazing birthday! Try not to get too rowdy on that yacht, now!”

“Girl, I’m grown! If one of my guests show up without a bottle, they ain’t gettin’ on, point blank!” You both giggled. 

She blew you a kiss and scurried off, the small bell above the door ringing at her exit. You sighed and scurried to the back and into the kitchen, untying your apron and hanging it on the coat rack. 

“Now, Miss Hattie— “

“I know you ain’t tryna disrupt my craft right now. You know better!” The elderly woman had her gray hairs pinned back under her hair net, practically squatting near the counter as she perfected the icing job on the three-layered wedding cake, shrouded in gold and sparkly silver. Your heart grew fonder at the slight tremble in her hands as she piped sprouts of buttercream around the cake topper. 

Hattie, despite her stubbornness, was reason your… fresh start went so smoothly. Meeting her was a blessing in disguise; It was raining when you stumbled upon the old bakery she worked at years ago. You’d just moved as far as you could from your hometown, in desperate need of a job. She turned down your desperate pleads time and time again, that is until you showed up to the shop one last time, drenched in rain, with your homemade red velvet cake. 

She’d nearly cracked you with a broom herself when she saw you standing by the service stand, but you pleaded one last time, and left the foil wrapped dish on the register counter without another word. You’d piqued her interest. Just a smidge. 

You’d received a call from a random number — the owner of the shop— days later, offering you a position at the local bakery. 

As a dishwasher. 

Your victory didn’t last long, however. Turns out your boss was a thieving bastard, cutting all the employee's earnings by a third months after you were hired. You were shocked no one shoved a piping bag up his ass. 

Weeks later, you were out of a job. And so was Hattie. 

… Did she reluctantly ask you for tips on how you made your cake that moist as you two waited for the bus, hairnets still on? Absolutely. And you shared them on the ride back to her small home.

She swiftly became your support, your right-hand man, your newfound comfort only after a few months. You silently thank the universe for her everyday; You couldn’t imagine opening your spot without her with you, making sure to double — triple whatever shit pay her previous boss gave her. 

“C’mon, Roxie just picked up. We needa head out now,” Closing was always a hassle whenever Hattie was in the zone. The extra five minutes she often requested easily turned into an hour if not regulated; Bless her heart. 

She sighed and stretched, “Alright,” Reluctance in her tone. “You’re lucky my grandkids are coming to see me tomorrow!” She set her piping bag down and allowed you to stroll the wedding cake into the walk-in fridge. 

Hattie hardly ever asked for time off; You practically have to shove her out your bakery doors every Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, New Years! The only request — demand she’s ever made was no work on Halloween. She gave you explicit instructions when you hired her years ago: don’t call my phone during the day of evil! 

Her request threw you for a whirl at first. You assumed she was joking because what seventy-year-old woman still cares about Halloween and its lore? When she hadn’t laughed with you, however, you apologized and offered her three days off for the end of October. Everyone deserves to be with their family, regardless of time of year.

You wished you had someone to call during the cozy Fall. 

You threw yourself into work the second you got the chance. Opening your bakery a year ago was something you’d been working towards since you made your first batch of cupcakes at ten years old. You and your mother baked until your arms burned from kneading years after that, and the hobby swiftly became your down time. Your shop was small and crowded, but your name was printed on the door. 

You never thought you’d be able to own anything after the last decade of being locked up, after the accident you’d caused. 

That horrid day and its repercussions continues to loom over you like a dark cloud no matter where you go, filling your life with trails of dread that refuse to be washed away. You lost your family, some friends, a potential partner, and it was all because of one mindless decision during your reckless and dark teenage years. 

To put it bluntly, you never recovered. Everyday is a struggle, but you’ve managed to distract yourself with work. Your newfound friends hate that they never see you, but you beg them to accept that you're busy whenever you receive an invitation to dinner. 

Sadly, your accomplishments are not companions, and your heart is forever vacant. Nothing — or no one — will change that. 

No matter how many times you’ve tried to reach out to your loved ones, your calls go unanswered. You came to terms with the fact that they’ll always see you as the force that destroyed their unity — the disappointment, ages ago, but your heart still longs for their affection. 

You wake up and hope for their forgiveness everyday. 

“You comin’?”

Miss Hattie’s voice pulled you from your thoughts as you silently walked her to the door, her work bag in hand and ready to go. 

“No, ma’am. Still gotta check the inventory.” 

She sucked her teeth, “I coulda still been decorating— “

“Enough of that! Get on home!” You waved her off with a smile. 

“Uh huh,” She rolled her eyes and left with a nod, “See you next week!” 

You waved goodbye, shutting the door fully and flipping the open sign to close. 

You stretched your arms above your head, your achy shoulders and neck popping with stiffness. All you wanted was a fucking massage. 

You made your way back to the kitchen, clipboard in hand, marking off products that desperately needed refilling. What kind of bakery runs out of sugar? Sugar!

The bus ride home was nauseating; You need your own car desperately. 

You politely greeted your neighbors as they left the elevator before heading to your floor. The late afternoon sun was blooming through the hallway windows of your building. You unlocked your door, the waft of cool air from the open window in your living room brushing your skin. 

You tossed your bag off your shoulders, and it thudded to the floor, the overworked bones in your arms cracking when you stretched them up at the ceiling. 

The small ball of fur rubbing against your leg rejuvenated you in seconds. 

Your cat meowed happily when you bent down to plant kisses on her head. She followed you into the kitchen as you heated the kettle on the stove, hopping onto the counter to watch you work. 

“You know better. Get down,” your eyes squinted. 

She only tilted her head at you before sitting on the granite completely. You were too tired to move her. 

Whistles erupted from the small hole in the pot minutes later. You filled your mug to the brim with the soothing herbal tea your friends gave you before heading into your bedroom. 

You closed your blinds and undressed completely, plopping onto your blankets, taking sips from your mug as exhaustion and warmth flooded your body. 

The last thing you remember was your cat walking all over your back. 

THUD, THUD THUD THUDTHUD—

Your body shook awake at the pounding coming from the entrance of your home. Anxiety surged in your gut when the loud knocks against wood came to a sudden halt, only to start up again, even more frantic and aggressive. 

THUDTHUDTHUDTHUD—

You kicked your blankets off and sat up, your sweaty form clinging to the sheets as you searched around your room. Everything was where it was supposed to be, but your door was wide open. You never leave your door open. Did you shut your door when you came home from… 

Where were you before this? 

You called for your cat once, twice, three times, but she never came. Your apartment was always quiet, but this silence… It was weighted, a heavy press on your chest. 

You don’t remember how you got into your living room, but your toes were digging into the soft fluff of your rugs, attempting to sketch into the floor. Even the slightest movement felt like a fight against sludge. Like trekking through the rain in drenched clothes. The knocks didn’t cease, and was synced with the pounding in your ears. 

The walls were breathing. Why couldn’t you breathe? You swore you were going to throw up. 

The painted plaster moved in waves, your door plunging in and out of its frame, back and forth like a pendulum, but you couldn’t see behind it; Your toenails scratched harder into the floor. You couldn’t stop staring at the door. Every nerve in your brain was urging you to run, find a place to hide, but your body wouldn’t allow it. You simply stood, trapped in a cloud of distress. 

The banging stopped and you inhaled, air finally filling your lungs. The feel of fabric beneath your toes was no longer there: something softer than hardwood. Something squishy, something sticky and wet with hair. Your nails tore into it, oddly comforted by the sensation. 

All was quiet again, the familiar steadiness of your home calming your racing heart. 

Until a weak, wheezing exhale came from beneath you; You nearly missed it. Your heart rate skyrocketed when you peered at your feet. 

Your cat’s neck and stomach were sliced open, her small organs pouring out of the large slit in her body. Maggots and spiders were crawling all over her, your feet completely drenched in her blood and your nails plunged deep into her decomposing skin. The insects devouring your nearly dead pet rushed up your legs at an alarming rate, tearing into your thighs like desperate rats fiending for a meal. 

You woke up screaming. 

“Girl…”

“I don’t know why that happened! I’ve never had a dream like that before!” All the lights were on in your home, your kitty purring in your lap as you stroked her comfortingly. “I know it’s late but can you come over? I’m honestly… freaked out right now.” 

Your good friend, Celeste, exhaled over the line, “… Yeah,” she resigned. “Gimmie ten minutes. I love you. Just… try to relax.” 

You breathed when she told you to, your head bobbing like she could see you, “Okay. I love you too.” 

You almost didn’t want to hang up, but you’d already bothered your friend enough tonight. It’s been a while since you two hung out together; You hope she’s up for a sleepover! 

Your kitty nuzzled your chin affectionately. You hoped she knew you would never hurt her. 

“I’ve never been so horrified in my life!” You spoke around the sugary spoon in your mouth. “Dreams have never… felt like that for me. I swear, it doesn’t matter how deep my sleep paralysis is! I felt like I was really,” you quickly peered around the room for your kitty, praying she couldn’t hear you. “Stepping on her body! My poor angel.” 

Celeste shoveled more ice cream into her mouth, “Girl, that’s fucking crazy,” she assured, nodding towards your sleeping baby on the table. “Just remember that nothing actually happened. You love her and she loves you.” 

She continued after a heavy sigh. “But you know me. Dreams, nightmares, they’re all from something, and if it felt as real as you say…” Her brow arched at you. What the fuck is she talking about? 

Her eyes rolled in exasperation, “Isn’t your coworker, like… mad superstitious? Queen, but still. The devil’s working, girl.” 

You took a deep breath like she instructed a billion times over since she’s arrived. A smirk grew on her face. 

“Plus… it’s that time of year. ,” she stuck her tongue out and playfully grabbed her tits, “We gettin’ slutty. Gotta show out for Scorpio season. I made my own costume.” 

Your nerves calmed at the reminder of your friends' packed weekend. Since your only true time off was during the spooky season, they always encouraged you to join them in their reckless behavior, especially during your time off. You resigned from partying a long time ago, but did indulge in the lively atmosphere from time to time during the holiday season. 

“You’re right,” you sighed and placed your hands over the resting ones on her chest. 

“Thank you! Take that damn chef hat off!” she scolded. “No more business talk until— “

“Next week, I know,” you mocked, “And I don’t wear chef hats, thanks.” 

“Don’t give a shit about any of that. I’m getting pipe tomorrow night,” Celeste fell back on the sofa, giddily kicking her feet in the air.

A hearty chuckle escaped you. Maybe you’d meet someone too. 

You were finally able to get some rest— thank god for Celeste — and start organizing your costumes for the… large sum of parties they planned to drag you to. 

You still haven’t completely recovered from your nightmare two nights ago. The vivid imagery that your subconscious conjured up still gives you the ick, but for the sake of your friends, you chose not to bring it up again. You silently thanked the universe when you managed to get a full nine hours the night before. 

Your friends managed to pull you into the Halloween spirit and take you to… Spirit. Despite the void stares from your friends at your costume choices, you settled on the Zelda outfit that’d been on sale at Party City for the past two weeks. Celeste couldn’t stop herself from… cutting your costume up and making it as revealing as possible. She opted to cut off the sleeves, sew the pants into a skirt that hugged your body way too tightly, and did your makeup how she wanted. You didn’t stand a chance against her. 

You despised how hot clubs get; You probably looked like you were melting. 

You stayed as far away from the bar as you could, watching your friends down shot after shot as the night progressed. Your surroundings were crowded and stuffy, the bass of the DJ booth rattling from your feet all the way up to your chest. Your moves were sloppy and disoriented, but Celeste was behind you, grabbing your hips and supporting your weight. 

Your thoughts were hazy and incoherent as your arms waved around to the beat. The music blasting in your ears turned into white noise; The environment completely entranced you, your eyes shutting at the weightlessness of your clammy body. 

The hands behind you were suddenly grabbing tighter, yanking you closer, as you continued to dance. 

You pushed back onto them and their arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back, yanking you close, your clammy flesh practically melding with theirs. Their scent engulfed you, rich and deep yet distinct. Your arm wrapped around the back of their neck, pulling them down while their hands explored your hips. 

Their lips were on your neck, your head resting on their shoulder. Something hot was stirring in the pit of your stomach the more they swayed you, the arch in your back deepening; You haven’t felt wanted in so long. 

You tried to spin to face them, but they held you still, pressing their chest into your backside. Your breaths picked up when they bit the most sensitive spot on your neck, your toes curling in your heeled boots, your manicured nails nearly chipping in your stockings. 

Their mouth moved higher and higher, right under your ear, the hand coming up to wrap around your throat to hold you still. Your core squeezed as the grip on your neck tightened… and tightened… your airways were closing, and swiftly, the feeling was no longer pleasant. Your eyes snapped open when they didn’t let up, a shocked gasp escaping your dry mouth. The moment was no longer sensual, but straining and forceful. Almost angry. 

Your lust turned to panic instantly, your eyes bulging as your nails dug into their hands, their taut thighs, their wrist, but they didn’t budge. You thrashed and shook with terror. You gasped for air and tried to push them off but it was all for naught. 

Nobody came to help you. Suddenly all the faceless bodies around you were gone, heaps of black smoke pooling at your feet as you wailed for Celeste. The hands and lips were replaced with razor sharp claws and fangs as cold as ice against the side of your face, murmuring voices and screaming chants roaring in your ears. The former body grew monstrous, tripling in size and darkening. 

The sensation of decaying, bloody skin was at your feet once more, fiery red ants and black widows nipping at your skin as the smoke flooded up your body, swallowing your calves, thighs, waist. 

Weak shouts and begs for release went unheard by the force behind you. A faint whisper of your name made you sob harder; You’re going to die, you’re going to die, you’re going to die—

The whisper called your name again. And again. And again, much louder and urgent. Desperate for a response but all you could do was holler for your mother. 

One last shout of your name made you drop to the floor, all the sensations surrounding your body gone. Your crown clanked onto the vibrating hardwood as drunk clubgoers gawked at you in confusion and annoyance, Celeste and your friends staring in concern, reaching to help you up. 

But you couldn’t be touched. Any brush on your skin surged your heart to your throat. You needed to get the fuck out of here. 

Your friends kept yelling about what happened, how they could help, but you couldn’t speak. You swore you were going to vomit. 

You pushed yourself off the hardwood and through the crowd, away from your friends, away from everyone. Your smudged makeup stained your wrists, the shouts of your name going unheard as you shoved passed security and ran into the night. 

You didn’t sleep at all that night. 

You immediately left the club, hauled a taxi, and ran up into your apartment, double — triple checking to make sure all your doors were locked and windows were closed. You tore your costume off your body and threw it into your garbage before hopping into the shower. You desperately wanted to wash your hair, but you refused to close your eyes. The darkness when you blinked was haunting enough. 

To put it lightly, you were fucking horrified. 

Your body trembled under the steaming water, soft sobs escaping while you scrubbed your skin raw. Especially your shoulder. 

Your phone rang off the hook until the sun rose, your kitty refusing to leave your lap. She never failed to comfort you in your times of need, but you barely rubbed her all night. All you could do is cry and think. 

Your friends pounded on your door multiple times, but you refused to move from your bed. Their frantic knocking was very reminiscent of the pounding in your nightmare. You couldn’t shake how real everything felt: the comfort, the desire, the destress, the pure, unfiltered terror at the imagery of you being eaten alive by darkness. If you could even call it that: imagery. 

Imagery is not enough to describe what you experienced. You were attacked in public, and no one bothered to help you. Nobody… saw anything. 

You’re not fucking crazy. 

Your friends were sweet enough to stop by the same afternoon with candles and lavender-scented bath bombs after your public breakdown. Their efforts at lifting your spirits didn’t go unnoticed, but your thoughts kept racing, every time you shut your eyes, even for a few seconds. How the hell were you going to explain what you saw that night? 

Despite your friends’ skepticism, you were eventually able to convince them that you felt severely claustrophobic and the lack of air sent you spiraling. 

… It wasn’t a complete lie, at least. 

You were able to get some minuscule hours of sleep after they left before it was time to prepare for your shift. Dark circles were imprinted under your eyes, your skin was dry, and your uniform was not ironed, but you were up and moving. Small victories. 

Your hand was practically glued to your forehead in extreme fatigue, your eyes burning at the brightness of your computer screen as you checked the time. Your emails always boomed during this time of year as people prepared for the holiday season; A good night's sleep seemed even farther away now. 

You swiftly replied to each request with your availability before grabbing your bag and keys, kissing your kitty goodbye, and running down to the bus stop. 

You greeted every familiar face with a polite smile before entering the already packed vehicle, the beginnings of a rising sun beaming through the scratched windows. You plopped onto the only available seat — farthest away from your neighbors — with a heavy exhale, your head falling against its rest. 

This week is going to be so gruesome for orders; You prayed Ms. Hattie was prepared for it. 

Returning to work was just as draining as you’d assumed. 

Your business line has been ringing off the hook all morning, people asking for dozens of gingerbread cookies and wedding cakes layered to the ceiling. You could make a nest for yourself right on the clean tiles of the kitchen and nap. 

You’ll never know how Ms. Hattie did it: wakes up at five in the morning and moves through decorating like a walk in the park. You can barely lift your arms and it’s only hour three. 

You whipped egg whites and sugar like your life depended on it — it did — with your landline tucked between your shoulder and ear, reciting pick-up addresses and numbers in voicemails. You’re so fucking tired. 

Hattie wasn’t, though. Just quiet. A bit too quiet. 

She hasn’t said much since you’ve arrived. She got to the shop much earlier than expected, politely saying good morning when she caught you standing by the kitchen entrance. She hasn’t acknowledged you since. You tried to get some laughs out of her, but she only half-smiled before silently returning to her work.

You two continued to carefully wrap and deliver dessert-filled boxes like a well fueled machine up until the last minutes before closing. You stretched before grabbing the broom to sweep the entire shop, making your way into the kitchen where Hattie was staring off into nothing. 

“Hey, girl. I can close up, so,” you murmured, wiping the sweat off your brow. 

She seemed to be pulled out of her trance, “Oh, sorry hun,” Her head bobbed. “Are you sure you’re good on your own?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” You paused. “Umm, are you doin’ okay? You seemed… I dunno, quiet, I guess.” 

Hattie nodded, and you took it as an invitation to speak. “Somethin’ you wanna talk about? You didn’t even tell me how your weekend went. How’re the kiddos?” You asked gently, propping your broom against the wall. 

A heavy exhale left her. 

“I… Something was…” she stuttered. 

Another deep inhale. Another lengthy exhale. 

“Something felt different, no?” She whispered. 

Your brows pulled down in confusion. “What d’you mean?” 

“This… this weekend. Wasn’t it different?” 

“Umm…” you pondered. “Not really, no. Why, what’s goin’ on?” 

More silence before she huffed, “… Nothin’. You know how I get this time of year. Sorry, dear.” She turned and snatched her work bag off the counter before departing with a skittish nod, “See ya tomorrow.” 

“W-Wait—“ You tried to stop her, but the kitchen door was already slamming shut, the small ding alarming Hattie’s departure from your shop. 

You allowed your tense shoulders to drop, snagging the broom and heading towards the front of your shop for cleanup. 

That was odd. 

The front door of your apartment shut and you fell back against it in exhaustion. You desperately needed a massage. 

You stretched before pushing yourself off the door and wobbling over to your cat’s area, refilling her bowl and cleaning her litter box. You clicked your tongue to lure her over to eat. 

You called her name out when she didn’t come. You snagged her filled bowl and shook it, alerting your baby to come and eat. She still didn’t come. You huffed and made your way into your room; She probably took over your softest pillow again.

The bowl in your hand clattered to the floor and your screams nearly shattered your windows. Bile rose in your throat and you heaved at the scene in front of you. 

Your beloved pet was dead. Completely mauled, her blood and organs pouring out of the giant slit that went from her throat to her stomach. Sobs wracked through you at the savage attack. The one source of comfort that you looked forward to seeing every morning and night was gone, snatched away from you in the blink of an eye. You've tried to alleviate your anxiety by suggesting that your nightmares are merely that. Dreams. Creations by your subconscious to try and solve issues that occur in your everyday life. 

But nothing so heinous would ever cross your mind. You would never harm the precious angel who brought you healing in your times of need.  

This wasn’t a coincidence. Someone came into your home while you were away. Someone killed your baby. 

“We’re sorry, ma’am,” the county deputy sighed, “But there wasn’t any sign of breaking and entering. You stated that everything is where you left it, correct?” 

“Everything wasn’t where I left it,” Anger rushed through you at the officer’s dismissiveness. “My cat was fucking fine before I went to work. I’d never… put her in an environment where she could be harmed,” Tears flooded your eyes. 

“We understand that this was an attack done in your home. What happened here’s definitely not normal, but we won’t be able to solve everything in one night,” He consoled, “We’re getting a team here to investigate. I would suggest packing an overnight bag and staying with family or a friend until we get this situated.” 

Family. You almost broke down. 

When you didn’t respond, he interjected, “We can also find you a room to stay in for a few nights— “

“No, uh, thanks. I got it.” 

You dug in your pocket for your phone and dialed Celeste. He nodded and spun towards his partner who jabbered into a walkie. 

Your friend’s tone blared through the speakers, “Hiii, baby, what’s up! I haven’t heard from you in a minute.” 

Your bottom lip wobbled, “Sorry I didn’t call. Um… can I ask a favor?” 

“Of course you can. What’s the matter? Are you good?” 

The floodgates that’d been building in your eyes overflowed, pouring down your cheeks and onto your work shirt. You wept. 

“Can you come pick me up?” 

“I just feel like… I feel like I’m going fucking crazy,” you whispered and picked at your fingers, “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but— “

“Nah, it makes perfect sense. You’re fucking psychic. That’s literally the only explanation,” your friend shook her head at you. “You dreamt about something and it happened a couple days after.” 

“None of that shit is real, Celeste.” She sighed in disappointment. 

“It’s not real to you,” she pointed from the other side of the couch. “My grandmomma was a witch—“You huffed and adjusted the blanket draped over your shoulders. 

“But, hey,” she raised her hands in defense. “I can’t make you believe anything. But coming from the most superstitious bitch in town, somebody is trying to tell you something. You’re not freaked out?” 

“Of course I’m freaked out! But I'm not wasting my time thinking about some… fuckin’ ghost— “

“What happened when we were at the club?” 

Your blood went ice cold. You couldn’t stop the pure terror that spread across your face at the mention of that night. You’ve attempted to block… whatever happened out of your memory for the last couple days for your sake, but Celeste read you like a book, and you hated her for it. 

“Exactly. Are you ready to talk about it now?” 

“I… I told you what happened— “

“You lied about what happened. And don’t try to argue,” She leaned closer, eyes comforting. “We tried calling out to you for so long. We thought somebody fucking… laced you, or something, you were so zoned out. We were this close to calling the fucking police.” 

“… What do you mean? I lost y'all in the crowd before I started dancing with somebody— “

Celeste shook her head, “No.” 

Your throat went dry, the blood rushing to your head almost making you faint. 

“We tried to tell you, baby. But we didn’t wanna push you to talk to us about it,” she said gently. “We were with you the entire time.” 

The tightness in your chest wouldn’t subside, shuddering breaths leaving your nose with every denial from Celeste.  

“No one else came up to us,” she whispered, “and no one danced with you.” 

Your head kept shaking in attempts to disprove her claims, in attempts to combat the fear that was attempting to slice you from the inside out, but deep down, you knew she was onto something. 

Celeste’s hold sadly didn’t bring comfort, but she held you close anyway, ensuring that you’re not by yourself, but all you could think about was your mother. The smile she used to give you whenever you succeeded never failed to recharge the dying battery in your back. It’s depressing how little impact her grin has on you in adulthood. 

The dark cloud of your past cascaded over the two of you; If she were here, your best friend would’ve forced you into the passenger side of her father’s pick-up, already halfway across town by now, set to isolate. To escape. 

“Whoever did this is incredibly strategic,” The tall detective stated with a journal in his hand, “They didn’t leave traces of anything: hair, fingerprints, nothing. It’s almost like they never broke in.” 

You haven’t been able to get any sleep or go to work for the last week, completely isolated inside your friend’s home. When you received a phone call from the detective assigned to your case, you caught the first bus you could and flew back to your apartment complex. You don’t remember the ride. 

Your hope plummeted at his declaration, even with his reassurance, “We’re doing everything we can to find this person. Your safety is our number one priority.”

He gave your shoulder an encouraging squeeze, and it brought you comfort. While you weren’t satisfied with their reports, you could see that he was trying. Was this your first time meeting him? 

He seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place it. 

He stared into your eyes with a gentle grin and continued, “If we should even call them that. They’re a cold-blooded, heartless fiend that needs to be taken out.” 

Your brows furrowed at his sudden determination, but your head bobbed in agreement. Your mind was racing but you couldn’t say anything. Someone killed your baby. Did his grip on you tighten? You couldn’t move. 

“The bastards that get away with such vicious crimes need to be put away forever,” his tone was harsh and sharp, and it made your fingers twitch. Your stomach plummeted when his smile stretched higher, his teeth shin

His other hand landed on your other shoulder. You tried to move back, but you couldn’t, “S-Sir— “

“They need to be hung from the ceiling by their throats and slaughtered like fucking pigs! Like the worthless animals they are! —“

His spit landed on your face at his screams. He hollered about how much he hated killers, how they were scum and deserved to be tortured. How you… 

“You thought we forgot about what you did?” He whimpered; prior menacing smile vanished.

The bearded man in front of you was sobbing, his gaze pinning you against the wall. He didn’t blink and his eyes were bloodshot, his mouth turned downward, the corners of his lips nearly touching his chin. Your eyes frantically traveled over his form, his uniform replaced with pajamas and slippers. 

“YOU’RE A KILLER! YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER! —“

Cursed murmurs amplified his pained shouts. Your home was melting away, the walls seeping into the floor before you dropped, the terror weakening your limbs. Your nails dug into the grass and dirt below you, panic electrifying your system. 

The man was gone, but you were outside in the middle of the night, decomposing trees surrounding you. You tried to stand but you couldn’t. You were forced to take in the scene that you wished to never see again. The one scene that your subconscious couldn’t eliminate no matter how hard you tried to forget. 

Your parents' car— wrecked car. The vehicle was completely destroyed, the bumper and windscreen ran into a tree. You screamed and shouted but no noise left, the sinister chants resounding in your ears. The wreckage seemed to move, closer, closer, your eyes locking onto the two bodies inside completely mangled in the accident. 

The two bodies were younger you, thrown over the dashboard and your arm twisted to an alarming degree, blood running down your head and mouth, shards of glass piercing through the skin of your bare legs. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from peering at the body beside you. You hollered for help, cried and begged to wake up, all while staring at your best friend — your soulmate, completely maimed from the waist up. It was just as brutal as you remember: her blood splattered all over the airbag, her limbs shattered and broken, large pieces of glass pierced into her skull. You were sick, you were sick. 

Suddenly, the mantras that attempted to swallow you whole stopped. 

Then there was laughter. Your soulmate’s laughter, but it wasn’t how you remembered. It was darker, hollow, empty. Enraged. 

Everything around you went dark. 

Sobs tear through your throat the second your eyes open, the comforting scent of Celeste’s lavender candles intruding your senses. Your body was drenched in sweat, and you could hear your friend calling out to you, her cold hands on your face, but you couldn’t think. You just screamed. Her attempts of trying to sit you up failed, your fingers hanging onto her sheets for dear life. You were paralyzed with fear. 

Somehow, your biggest regret came to pay you a visit. 

Your instincts finally kick in, pushing Celeste off you and bolting towards her bedroom door. She was calling for you; she even reached out to touch you, but you pushed her harder. 

She screamed for you to stop, and you lost it. 

“Get the fuck away from me! STOP — stop fucking touching me!” you rush out into her living room and towards her front door. 

Shocked plastered across your friend’s face. 

Celeste whispered your name; Why did she sound like her?

“I gotta get the fuck outta here, I can’t,” heave, “I can’t fucking do this, I can’t, I can’t — “

Distraught mumbles fled your tongue on your way out, not bothering to look back at your friend. You heard her sniffling before the door slammed shut, guilt swarming your chest, but it wasn’t enough to overcast the terror ripping you open from the inside out. 

After vomiting outside of Celeste’s apartment building, — multiple times — you took your leave. As fast as you could. You couldn't say a word to her; She desperately tried to get information out of you, but your throat felt like it would crack open at the slightest whisper. The fear you’d been trying to invalidate crashed into you all at once. 

You fled without your belongings, only slowing when night goers surrounded you in the city. 

Celeste has been worried sick about you this entire time, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. 

Your steps were jerky and quick, and you kept scratching at your shoulder. You felt her everywhere. All over you, but it wasn’t comforting. Not like it used to be. 

You walked and walked, your mind racing with moments from your past: the last moments with your best friend. Your kryptonite. The scar in your shoulder was covered in fresh, red lines from your nails. 

JUNIOR YEAR: 2012

You frantically shoved your books into your locker, anticipating the alarm that sounded for lunch. You can’t wait to get the hell out of here. 

The second it goes off, you're booking it for the door. You hoped Ellie kept her word and brought your birthday present. 

You busied yourself in your small cubby whenever security or teachers walked by, politely greeting them with the most innocent smile you could muster. They didn’t bat an eye, wishing you a happy birthday before turning the corner at the end of the hall. 

You gave them all fake greetings until the loud tone blared through the hallway speakers, students instantly rushing out of their classrooms to head to the cafeteria. You grabbed your now empty backpack and merged with the crowd, trekking for the exit. You managed to scurry through the double doors of the school and bolted towards your parents’ old car, ducking behind the driver's side as you waited for your best friend. 

You texted her a few times but she didn’t respond for minutes. You almost gave up and returned inside the building before two hands pinched your sides from behind. A squeal left your mouth when you whipped around. Ellie snorted at you, her arms wrapping around your neck in a tight hug. You reluctantly hugged her back. 

HAAAPPY BIIIRTHDAAAY TOOO YOUUU—

You shushed her shouts with a smile, Shut up! Someone might hear you.

She kissed your cheek before releasing you, No ones fucking here, relax. Open the door, her head jerked towards the vehicle.

You stealthily unlocked it and the two of you jumped in. You shoved the key into the ignition as Ellie cranked the speakers all the way up, your car rattling with bass as you two exited the parking lot and zoomed down the main street. 

Ellie belted Cherry Waves out the window, bright laughs leaving your throats as you drove to… anywhere. Times like this always bring you joy; You love being around her. 

Ditching class might’ve not been the best birthday celebration, but you were having a ball. 

You drove until you reached the end of town. There was a small campground that you and Ellie found on your first couple drives together, and it swiftly became your little get away spot. You’d spend hours talking, drawing, screaming at the top of your lungs until the sun disappeared and your parents demanded you come home. 

You two raced to your designated spot by the lake, Ellie’s filled backpack slamming onto the sand, glass clattering from the inside. You mischievously eyed it, I think someone owes me a present! 

I don’t owe you shit. I’m a good friend, say thank you, She rolled her eyes. You grabbed her hands and clumsily twirled her. 

Thank you, Ellieee! you nearly ripped her bag apart as you inspected the contents. 

Don’t go too crazy. Remember what happened last time? her smile was light, but you could tell she was scolding you. You snickered. 

Um, yeah. We had a ball. Help me open this, you downplayed, passing her the unopened bottle. 

You know exactly what she’s referring to; You might’ve drank a bit too much at your friend’s birthday dinner. And Christmas party… and when you all went to the fair, but it was all in good fun! You’re young and living life; Ellie’s always a bit dramatic when she comments on your drinking. 

Ellie snatched the bottle and opened it, taking a large swig from it before handing it back. You followed in her lead, taking three large gulps of the liquid, the burn flowing down your throat and into your stomach. Ellie pulled her speaker out of her bag and queued your joint playlist. 

The two of you drank and sang and danced until sunset, your vision blurry and legs wobbly. Ellie was sweet enough to help you back to the car, snagging the keys from your pocket before helping you into the passenger side. You tried to talk to her, but she couldn’t understand. She always looked so cute when you mumbled nonsense, wispy brows pulled down with a light smile. You felt so happy whenever she was around. 

She drove you back home and you threw up all over your front yard. Somehow, she snuck past your parent's room without hassle, ushering you into bed. You couldn’t stop laughing; Her bright smile only made you cackle louder before her hand pressed against your mouth. 

—

Ellie’s soft palms moved up and down your arm bare, occasionally squeezing your bicep. You couldn’t stop smiling, goosebumps following the drag of her fingertips.

You’re such a dork, she whispered between snickers. 

You love me, you said much louder, but she hummed. The look in her eye was suddenly far away. You nervously nibbled at your bottom lip, your eyes dropping to her mouth. Did her lips always look this soft?

You admired every aspect of her face in silence, your index finger continuing to trace over the bridge of her nose, the apple of her cheeks, down to her chin. Ellie’s a sight. 

Your hazy mind barely noticed the tint on her cheeks, your bedroom dimly lit by the moonlight cascading in from your window. Her eyes were glued to your mouth. 

She inched closer, her moves subtle. You would’ve missed it if she wasn’t right there. 

You don’t know what came over you, but your mouth pressed against hers. Her lips were stiff against yours, and it made you pull away.

She didn’t seem… happy, not how you felt. Her expression was gloomy, her eyes flashing with… everything and nothing at the same time. You locked up instantly. 

You love me, Ellie… right? 

Your tongue felt swollen in your mouth when you slurred. 

Ellie didn’t answer, and you held yourself up on your elbow, your brain alarming your legs to get up and leave. To abandon. 

Ellie… d-do you love me? 

O-Of course I do—

The tremors in her voice sliced through you like a hot blade. Her confirmation was only meant to appease, your drunk brain told you. Ellie doesn’t love you, not like that. Your own parents’ love is conditional; Why wouldn’t hers be?

—

You were never a rebellious kid. 

Your parents always praised you for being a remarkable role model for your younger siblings: incredible listener, studious, eager to help others. They never failed to highlight, amplify, pressure your good behavior. But their doting smiles disappeared when you failed to meet their expectations. 

The transition from middle to high school was rough for you. Your grades suffered and you were surrounded by other kids you didn’t recognize, and your “star-student” streak vanished in an instant. You’ve never seen your family so disappointed in you. 

You broke your back trying to save your academic status for the next few years. You hardly slept, ate, spent time with your newfound friends, and it was all for your parents. They didn’t acknowledge you until that offer to join the early-college program came in the mail during your sophomore year. When you accepted that you needed to have something to show to get their affection, you spiraled downward. 

You swiftly replaced the emptiness in your heart with a bunch of seniors. They agreed to let you tag along if you could hang, so you did whatever was necessary to gain their companionship: started sneaking out, staying out late, going to parties that you had no business being at. 

Started drinking. 

Just one sip, loosen up! Little did you know that’s all it took to get you hooked. 

The drink was rancid and a gross, murky color. You weren’t enjoying it, so why couldn’t you put the cup down for the rest of the night? You threw back cup after cup until you were unconscious on the front porch of the house. None of your friends bothered to take you inside where it was safe. 

You barely recall being hauled back inside and upstairs, plush pillows under your head as you drifted off. When you woke, you swiftly decided that the pounding in your head and the nausea in your gut was worth it. Last night was the freest you’d ever felt. You almost missed the small sticky note stuck on your arm. Someone gave you their phone number, demanding that you tell them if you made it out alive (i hope so.)

You gained a best friend from that sloppily scratched note. 

Meeting Ellie was a blessing. She was funny, smart and kind. She was so nice to you. None of your old friends treated you like she did. Ellie’s friends were much warmer and welcoming when she introduced you to them for the first time. Every time they had plans, you were invited, no conditions needed. 

Every vacant space in your heart was filled with something brighter. It’s unfortunate that your brain has already mastered its attachment to something more dangerous. 

Ellie… for the billionth fucking time, I don’t have a problem. Can you just let it go? you scoffed from your bed. 

I’ll let it go when you cut it out. You can’t do shit without it anymore, She spat, pointing at the McDonald’s cup filled with Tequila. You grinned nastily and sipped your straw. You were so sick of having this conversation with your friends. With her. 

Yes, I can. I’m fine. See? You sarcastically rubbed all over your body. Another huge gulp. I dunno why y'all are acting like this. I’m not the only one that drinks. 

You’re not fuckin’ fine, first of all! It was fun at first, but you don’t know how to control yourself! You’re scaring everybody off, Her arms flailed as her voice rose. You’re so happy your parents are working. 

You weren’t “scaring everybody off”; You did have some outbursts some time ago, but your friends were still around. They always called you for a fun time, and you were always there to show out. 

Oh my fucking god, you’re so extra, you got up with your cup, grabbing Ellie’s hand and leading her into the bathroom down the hall. You removed the lid and dumped its contents out; You tried to hide the surge of anxiety as you watched it go down the drain. 

See? I can stop whenever I want. 

Then stop, she whispered, sadness in her eyes, No more… okay? 

The emotions flowed through her eyes like water, and it made you uncomfortable. You already wanted a refill, but you nodded to appease her. 

O-Okay, Ellie, I’m sorry, you whispered, and she hugged you so tight. Kissed your clothed shoulder, and it gave you solace, even if it was just temporary. 

But when she left, you were alone, comforted by the temptation of your own thoughts. You broke into your parents’ locked liquor cabinet that same night. 

—

When you showed up to exam day drunk, Ellie began to pull away. 

She didn’t bother to beg and yell when you were entranced by your vice. You simply saw her less, and your heart cracked whenever your calls went unanswered. 

Abandonment was the worst feeling, even more so when it’s a result of something you’ve done. Your anxiety spiked significantly when you strolled around campus and your friends ignored you, and it only made you drink more when you got home. The acidic pacifier you discovered was turning you into someone unrecognizable. You were failing, and you were alone. You’d wished your siblings were older so you could talk to them. 

Everything came crashing when your parents received an alarmed call from your principal. 

You’d been vomiting in the nurse's office for half an hour, and they ended up calling the ambulance. Your stomach was getting pumped hours later. 

When you regained consciousness, the only thing you could hear were your mother’s hysteric sobs in the hall. 

—

Summer came along, and you were out of rehab. Withdrawal fucking sucked; It took you almost three weeks to fall asleep in the center. 

You didn’t expect to see Ellie and your friends sitting on your porch when your parents pulled into the driveway, flowers and your favorite candy in hand. Your best friend cried into your shoulder for an hour straight; You refused to let her go as you sobbed into hers. You’d missed hugging her. 

When everyone was seated on your parents' couch, you offered to share the secret to get melty, gooey chocolate chip cookies every time. They couldn’t stop grinning at you; You were finally back to normal. 

Ellie spent the night at your house and hugged you to her chest until you drifted off. 

You accepted that you were a terrible person when all you could think about was a drink. Just one. 

All the promises you made were broken a few months later, crushed into dust by your own hand.  

—

Everyone you loved hated you. Liquor always forced you to see the truth in people, melted away the fantasy that you created out of self-preservation. It fueled the rage that you desperately tried to keep hidden from your family; You’re so fucking mad, and you can’t remember why. 

Your parents hated you; your siblings hated you, your best friend, the one person you have to confide in, the only thing you had left to love, hated you. Everyone hated you, and it was all your fault. Selfishness was the only way one could be a successor. 

The second Ellie climbed into your parents’ car with that soft look in her eye, fury swallowed you whole. You barely said a word to her, her favorite song cranked to maximum volume. 

Ellie? Your voice was quiet, but you were seething. You don’t remember why. 

Hm? 

D-Do you still care about me? your hands were clenched around the wheel so tightly, you thought it would snap in two. She was suddenly tense in the passenger seat, but she whispered without hesitation. Of course, I do… always. 

But you didn’t believe her. 

Ellie should’ve never agreed to go on a drive with you. 

The way Ellie whipped her head towards you was vicious, her hand slamming onto the volume button of your car to silence the noise. You hated how she knew instantly. 

… Are you fucking drunk right now? 

There it was. All the proof you needed. Confirmation that you were nothing but a disappointment. You hadn’t moved from the stop sign. Self-loathing thrashed from the inside; your teeth are bound to crack like glass with the tightness of your jaw. 

She’d whispered your name with so much disdain. A molten tear eased down your face like magma. This was the same residential area you parallel parked in for your driver’s test. 

Your eyes were glued onto the dimly lit street as Ellie cried and begged for you to stop the car. She admitted to loving you and apologized for everything she said that could’ve hurt your feelings. All you had to do was stop the car and everything would be fine, she said. You pressed the gas so hard; it nearly touched the floor of the vehicle. 

I love you… Please don’t do this… I love you so much… 

Ellie’s last scream was haunting before everything went silent. 

—

The reality around you never rebuilt itself after that night. 

You were able to convince yourself that the accident didn’t happen for a few weeks. Until your best friend’s burial. According to your parents last voicemail, Ellie’s father wanted to strangle you with his bare hands. You took his life away with one decision. No one contacted you after that. Not your parents, not your siblings, not your friends. 

You were charged and placed in juvenile detention until you were of legal age, and sent off to prison for another six years after that. 

Your habit fed you lies about the people you loved most, and it cost the life of your only constant. The one person who tried to get you to change. The purest form of love you had. 

You killed your soulmate, and you never recovered. 

PRESENT

You walked until you reached Hattie’s front porch. Your calves were on fire. 

Your tightly clenched fist pounded on the wood with all the strength you had left. You could see the shadows of someone walking around inside, but she didn’t open the door. She probably wanted nothing to do with you after not showing up to work for weeks, but you were desperate. 

“M-Ms. Hattie, please,” you hollered, “I really need t’talk to you! Please, please— “

The door barely creaked open. You expected her to scream and berate you for disrupting her so late in the night, but she was silent. Didn’t utter a word. She only peered through the small crack in the doorway, her eyes bloodshot. Her voice sounded graveled, like she hadn’t slept in days. 

“What the hell are you doin’ here.” 

“Ms. Hattie, I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know where to go,” You harshly wiped your eyes, “May I please— “

“No, you may not,” her glare sliced through you, sharper than any knife. You bawled. 

“Please, I’m beggin’ you, ma’am— “

“What…” her voice quivered, her gaze breaking away from yours for a split second. 

“What did you do… to that girl?” She whispered like it pained her, and it felt like your chest would concave. 

“… W-What?”

The look on her face was enough for you. 

She knows. She knew. 

“It was you,” tears filled the woman’s eyes, “I had a dream that you… How could you do that… That poor baby…” 

Your head shook in denial. It was an accident, you wanted to scream, I don’t know what came over me! Your eyes squeezed shut and you fell to your knees, thunderous pleads leaving your throat as you begged her to listen. You hunched over and miserably tried to grab at her feet. 

I loved her, I loved her, I loved her! You couldn’t speak. 

“Whatever happens t’you…”

“No, nonono!—“

“I hope God… the universe… whoever the hell,” She spat, “Has mercy on you.” 

You couldn’t stop screaming. Your voice was muffled by the concrete floor. 

“Get the fuck off my porch.” And the door slammed in your face. You heard the locks click, and just like that, your last inkling of hope shunned you. 

You hadn’t realized you’d been screaming for Ellie until you sat up, burning eyes glued to the dark, cloudy sky. 

The sun rose from behind as you climbed your apartment steps. 

The bundle of police cars and black trucks outside the building were an indication of your case being ongoing, but it brought you no comfort. A constant ache was present in your chest every time you breathed. Murmurs erupted from behind as you dragged your body inside, ignoring the deputies who were urging you off the premises. 

Officers and residents stared at you in confusion, shock, bewilderment the second you hopped off the elevator. Exhaustion was pouring out of you, your under eyes almost black and pajamas wrinkly. You can’t recall the last time you showered. 

The elevator dung, and you made your way down the hall, police tape surrounding your front door. You dodged it and crept in, the sight of the investigators almost sending you into a panic. 

Terror built in your spine as they gawked at you; Ellie’s fucking with you. You’re probably asleep right now. 

“Ma’am?” 

You shakily turned towards the investigator assigned to your case. “Are you alright?” 

No. You nodded, “I came to get some things.” 

Some silence passed before you spoke. 

“I need a place to stay,” your cuticles were scabbing. “As far away from here as possible… if that’s even allowed.” Your living room felt like it was tipping. 

Their brows furrowed, scanning over your ragged appearance, “Um… The farthest we can place you is about a half hour away. We still need to monitor you… Especially now.” You bit the dig with a tilted head. 

You nearly leaped into the air at the sudden, distant ring in your ears. 

“Will y’all still cover m’stay?” The tremor in your hands built with the shrilling pierces in your drums. 

“Yes… Are you sure everyt— “

“I’m fine! I’m fi— I’m fine!” The shrieks overwhelmed you, both hands coming up to cover your ears, your head pounding. Foreign hands were attempting to steady your hunched form, but to no avail. Your body gave out completely, pained wails leaving your dry lips. 

I’m fine, I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine—

You tried. You tried your hardest, but you couldn’t convince anyone — yourself that you were okay. Something’s here. When did the air in your home get so cold?

The softest call of your name frosted the blood in your veins. 

You’re hallucinating; You have to be. Don’t look up. Don’t open your eyes. 

The voice called again, elation enriching her tone. Your head shook in disbelief. 

It can’t be. 

“L-Look at me. I’m here! I'm okay!” 

No, no no no, you told yourself. Sobs wracked through your hunched form. 

“Look at me! I love you!” 

Shoe-covered feet inched towards you, slowly. Almost… cautious. 

“Wake up! Wake up, wake up!” Your whispers were harsh. Urgent. Desperate. 

A comforting hand rubbed your shoulder. You flinched and wailed, frantically pinching the skin of your wrists.  

“NO! No, no, fucking get up— “

“Shhh,” Her hand squeezed you, “It’s me.” 

You’re going to fucking puke. Your eyes stayed shut while she cradled you, your head resting on her shoulder. She felt taller, stronger, but she smelled the same. You couldn’t move, but she hugged you so tight. 

Ellie, Ellie, I love you, I’m sorry— 

A kiss on your shoulder. Right over your scar. 

“I love you more.” 

You calmed in her presence as she rocked you on the floor. Your guilt almost made you push her away, but you’re selfish; You need this, for her to hug you. 

It felt like she held you for years, right on your apartment floor. She didn’t let you go. 

But when your eyes opened, eggshell white hospital walls surrounded you. Kept you trapped in the small hell that Ellie’s created. 

You haven’t slept or eaten. You’ve barely showered. 

Ellie was with you. Ellie’s with you. You felt her there; She held you! You’re not fucking crazy. 

Three days have passed since you were carried out of your apartment by EMTs, according to the investigators that are still terrorizing your fucking home. They assumed you were having a seizure by how still you were. You were unresponsive for minutes, they’d said. Celeste was right. You didn’t have the courage to face her and apologize. 

You haven’t left your motel room since you’ve arrived. You hate it in here — it looks like it’s eroding from the outside, the windows are scratched and tinted a murky yellow, the sheets feel like sandpaper, but it’s better than home. Better than being in public amidst your impending psychological breakdown. 

Ellie’s here. She’s watching you and laughing at the wreck you’ve become. 

You’re slipping; You can feel it. The way she hugged you… You could’ve melted into her for eternity when she said she loved you, never to be seen or heard from again, completely under her control. Not that anyone would care about your disappearance. A gutted huff left you. 

Your past finally caught up to you. Tears flooded your eyes for the hundredth time tonight. 

The faint shuffling coming from your bathroom didn’t even shock you. She’s here again. 

Your eyes overflowed, and they shut in resignation; You’re going to die. 

“E-Ellie?” 

Silence. 

Your eyes squeezed tighter. You have nothing left to fight for. 

“Just do it! Just fucking do it!” 

That’s all you’ve ever been: a quitter. More shuffling, then silence. 

“FUCKING KILL ME! KI— KILL ME, ELLIE!” 

You heaved and rose from the edge of your bed. You marched down the seemingly endless hallway, heart cracking in your chest. 

“KILL ME! KILL ME, KILLME! —“

Weighted knocks pounded against your room door, shocking you into silence. She’s here, she’s here; She’s fucking with you. 

A dark chuckle left you. 

“You’re fucking sick,” You spat with a sniffle, “I hate your fucking guts, just like you hated me! You fucking hate me, right?” 

You’re awake. And you’re angry. 

You tramped towards the entrance and knocked back just as hard. 

“FUCK YOU, BITCH! FUCKING — FUCK YOU, ELLIE, YOU FUCKI— “

Heat traveled across your face the second you ripped the door open. 

A woman… a motel employee… with sheets in her hand, visibly stunned. 

You’re going fucking crazy. 

“Uhh… just came to give you new, uh, sheets,” Her voice was high-pitched, clearly uncomfortable. Your eyes flickered with embarrassment, cheeks blazing. 

“S-Sorry…” You allowed the shorter woman entry, and she scurried over to the small nightstand in the corner of your room. 

You picked at your fingers, “Um… sorry if I scared you. It’s been a weird… fuckin’ weird couple of weeks.” 

She didn’t acknowledge you at all. Just silently laid the sheets and pillowcases on the side of your bed. 

“Am I,” You huffed, anxiously rubbing your eyes. “Are you gonna report me or somethin’?” 

Silence. 

Your brows furrowed at the sudden stillness of the woman, her back turned towards you. 

“Hey, you okay?” A cautious step forward. “Look, I’m… I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’m fine— “

“Fuck you.” 

You flinched at her venomous tone; voice filled with spite. The fuck?

“… What?” 

“After all this time…” she whispered, the ponytail in the woman’s head shaking in disbelief. 

“You’re still the same… selfish, psychotic fucking bitch I remember you to be.” 

Your knees buckled at the sudden low timbre of her voice. Goosebumps ran up and down your arms at its familiarity. She sounded just like… She’s… It can’t be. It can’t be, it can’t be—

The one window you cracked for air earlier slammed shut, the clicks from your door signaling your confinement. You’re trapped.

Your nails sunk into your palms; She’s here. She’s real and she’s fucking here and going to kill you. 

Her laugh filled the room, low and vengeful, and the one lit lamp on the nightstand flickered off. 

Your breaths were shallow and desperate, sheer panic rushing through your body. You took blind, scurried steps towards the door, feeling around for the knob to take your leave, but it wouldn’t budge. You pounded on the wood from the inside, screaming for anyone to come save you. 

Something cold and slimy slinked around your ankles and roughly yanked you to the floor, your hands scrambling to grab onto anything on the hardwood as they pulled you towards her. You caught glimpses of her glowing, red eyes with every panicked look over your shoulder. 

You were pulled up, up, up by your feet until you were dangling upside down, her glowing orbs piercing through yours. You barely made out her manic smile, fangs bright and as sharp as knives. Something sharp pressed against your windpipe, ready to tear your throat out. 

The room she trapped you in disappeared completely, an empty, dark void surrounding her, you. There’s nothing anywhere. 

You hollered as your stomach flipped; She’s going to kill you right here—

“Ellie, please, please don’t! —“

A sharp slice right through your shoulder. You released a pained scream before your vision grew cloudy, body growing limp as you swayed in the air. Your screams quieted, your drowsy mind filling with images of Ellie smiling affectionately at you. 

Ellie… Ellie, please… 

Trees danced with the wind before everything went dark. 

Water erupted from your mouth, your eyes ripping open, fingers tearing into the dirt beneath you. 

You pushed yourself into a sitting position, more water dripping from your hair and clothes, down your bare legs. Pain shot through your shoulder with every move. You reached to touch it and… ouch. Blood coated your fingertips. 

You gazed around. You knew exactly where you were, but it was off. 

You and Ellie’s hideout. The campground is exactly how you remember, but it was darker, murkier, less inviting and cozy. Familiar, yet foreign. 

“Miss me?” 

You jolted, scurrying away from whatever was behind you. 

“Aww, don’t be scared,” Ellie mocked, fake pout pulling at her lips. “C’mooon, it’s just me! Welcome to my humble abode!” 

What the fuck, what the fuck—

The same appendage from earlier wrapped around your leg, yanking you back, and your heart sank. Your eyes were deceiving you; They had to be. 

Ellie, much taller and stronger than you remember, stood over you, pupils pitch black, a devious smile spread across her face, sharp fangs glimmering in the dark. The two horns that swirled atop her head were dark, the protruding veins red and throbbing like they were alive. You saw the sharp edge of her tail glowing behind her head, speckles of red liquid crusting over on the tip. 

Is… Did she cut you with that? 

Your heart squeezed painfully with familiarity; The small spots that dusted her face and the scars that covered her legs from biking accidents were still there. 

“E-Ellie?” 

She posed, arms extended, “In the flesh. Kinda. There’s no… actual flesh for the dead… Well, we technically could have skin, but it wouldn’t be ours.” 

“I’ve been lookin’ for you. You look good,” she muttered, eyes dark as they traveled over you. You suddenly felt exposed. 

Silence passed between the two of you. How was her tone so casual? 

What the fuck is going on… 

She huffed at your silence, “Didn’t think our ten-year anniversary would be this fucking awkward. Can’t even say hi?” 

Her words were hardly registering. 

“Huh.” Her eyes flashed back, and the organ around your leg untangled, retracting into the grass beneath you.

“You’ve… you’ve been looking for me?” 

“Mhmm,” she hummed, carelessly playing with her razor-sharp nails. “You got outta jail, got a place… bought the bakery you always talked about. Congratulations, jailbird! You beat the system… and were able to outrun the devil for some time!” 

She showcased the ashy, decaying scenery like it was a prize. “Here’s your first glimpse into the other side. Is it to your liking? Should I fluff your pending gravestone? Put some roses over it since everyone you love won’t?” 

Other side? “… Am I dead?” 

“Nope! Almost. You have a purpose before I take you out. Finally, am I right?” Sarcasm sharpened her tongue. 

“… You're insane,” your voice was hoarse, shattered. You swore your esophagus was bloody. 

“Me?!” She snickered sickly, eyes darkening, “Remind me what happened between us again? Who hurt who? Who killed who?!” 

“… I— “

You paused. What the fuck do you say to her? I still love you somehow. Please don’t hate me forever. I’m a worthless fuck up—

“None of the above,” she interrupted… your thoughts? “To be frank, I don’t wanna hear shit from you,” she swayed sassily, circling you like a shark, her tail sashaying around.

“… Why’m I here then?” 

She paused, the muscles in her back flexing. Your gut tumbled. 

Ellie turned to face you, lips curling devilishly. 

“Well… ” she trailed off, voice alluring. “It gets lonely down here. I don’t have anybody to call. Nights are so cold.” 

She suddenly dropped to her knees, sensuality practically leaking out of her as she crawled towards you. Your heart was thumping, stomach in knots. 

“I need you… to do exactly what I tell you…” 

Your breaths shuddered the closer she got.

“I’m so fuckin’ hungry… Just sit there and let me take what I want,” Her mumbles were drunk and lustful. “You fucking owe me. I’m trapped here ‘cause of you.” 

She straddled your lap, eyes glued to yours. They flashed red, and an appendage locked around your throat, knocking the wind from your lungs and pulling you flat onto the dirt. You tried to pull against it, but it tightened on your airways. You choked, pain searing in your shoulder, causing you to let up. Another set of slimy appendages clasped around your wrists, followed swiftly by two locking down your ankles. 

The burn from your bleeding shoulder made your nipples harden under your filthy sweatshirt. She chuckled above you. 

“That was quick,” Her brow arched. “Haven’t gotten any? What, no one wants to drill a felon?” She cooed with a pout. 

You shot her a glare. A squeeze on your throat. A clench from your walls. 

“Oh!” She exclaimed in remembrance. “Sorry about that club fiasco. I was gonna fuck you then, but seeing you enjoying yourself got on my nerves, so.” 

She rambled on about how she made a whole plan to ruin your life the second she found you until you were rotting in the grave, but you weren’t listening. Your eyes moved over her lips, down her neck, over her bare chest, blood burning under your skin. Another squeeze from your cunt. Your face burned with every drop of slick that left you. 

“Think I’m cute? The horns doing it for ya?” she interrupted your gawking. 

You averted your gaze. She snorted before her expression went lubricious, eyes glossing over.  

“You smell so good,” she slurred with fluttery lids. 

No, you don’t. You haven’t showered—

“I meant your pussy, you fucking idiot,” her eyes rolled in annoyance. “You’re killin’ my vibe. Shut up.” 

Your eyes widened in shock; Don’t think, don’t think—

“She smelled like that in the club. Just needed some lovin’, hm?” Her hand reached back to pat your pussy over your pajama shorts and you squealed. You’re leaking. 

“Oh, she’s starving— “

Fear and arousal flurried in your tummy, “What’re you gonna do?” 

You could almost see the wires in her head sparking to life. She leaned over you, her cold body pressed against yours, noses almost touching. 

“I’m gonna rip that pussy open until I feel better…” The aura around her was smokey and blinding. “And then…” Her nose bumped against yours, almost affectionately. “I’m gonna rip that fucking throat out. Might hang your body from a tree. I needa decorate.” 

A choked sob left you, thighs rubbing together as tears plummeted down your temples. Ellie shushed you gently, her forked tongue licking over the droplets before they cascaded down into the grass. 

Every swipe of her tongue sent a zap through your face. The sting sent your jolt through your spine, hips bucking into her. A hot, slick line ran up your cheek, grazing your jawline, cat-like spines digging into your clammy skin. 

… Is… Is she really…?

You couldn’t stop the shudder that ran up your body, your foot jerking outward at the sensation. The tentacle clenched around your ankles, and you gasped. Ellie was grinding on top of you, whimpering into your neck, marking your skin. 

“E-Ellie, El— “

Another swipe, a thick, sticky trail burning its way into your hairline. Your whines are almost inaudible. Pain is burning up your legs when the organ twisted tighter; You’re shocked your ankle didn’t snap in two. 

She moved faster on top of you, pleasantly sighing into your neck. Your face is fucking sizzling. 

“What the… fuck,” The situation is settling in for you: Ellie’s dead… but, not? And she’s humping you like a dog. You shouldn’t want to watch her, observe the love of your life get off on your fucking stomach, but you — your pussy wants it — needs her. 

You missed her so fucking much. 

Soft chuckles erupted from her, icy breath on your neck. She sat up, rubbing her bare cunt on your tummy. 

“You wanna watch?” 

No, no no please—

Your head shook, mind racing with pleads for her to touch you, but she stared back in disapproval. 

“I think you wanna watch,” She sat up, lifting her knees and resting her freezing hands on your thighs, her pretty pussy on full display, “Missed me that bad?” 

She’s right there, but you can’t move. More tears, more begging from you. 

“Wanna see a trick I learned?” She inquired mischievously. You didn’t have a chance to answer before more vine-like organs emerged from the dirt, eager and throbbing, globs of slick dribbling from their tips.

“When you’re sad and horny, answers will eventually fall in your lap,” She watched the appendages sliver all over her shoulders, her back, down her stomach. Her head flew back, her short flyways waving around her horns. 

“I bet that fucked up head of yours never expected this would happen, huh? Never thought you’d see me like this?” She moaned out as the suctioned limb traveled over her left nipples, her eyes beaming red, scorching through your chest. 

Your walls squeezed down on nothing, desperate groans leaving your throat, underwear clinging to your cunt. You couldn’t close your legs, the members slinked around coming up to suck on your thighs. 

Nasty little cuck, her voice boomed through your skull, Wanna watch me get fucked, right?

Your head bobbed dumbly. The appendages scurried down her body. You watched as the veins in her horns glowed brighter, her eyes shading an even deeper scarlet, her lip catching between her teeth when the suctions came in contact with her clit. 

The slippery members attacked your thighs with strong suctions, the sensitive skin littered with blotchy, dark spots. A wet slither made its way up your body, under your sweatshirt and in between your tits. The tip teased both nipples, your back arching deeper for more friction. The air was muggy and your body was disgustingly sticky; The sensations made your clit jerk. 

You blearily stared up at Ellie, nearly cumming at the sight of her with a thick, throbbing appendage fucking into her pussy, another two attacking her nipples. Her walls were stretched around the dark, pulsing tentacle, her juices filling the open air with sopping squelches. 

Her eyes fluttered open and refocused on you, a dark line of drool dripping from her mouth and landing on your exposed torso. You released a pained shout, your skin burning at the contact. Tension built tight in your core, clit throbbing in your underwear. You’re struggling to breathe, head floating further into the clouds with each whimper from Ellie. She giggled hazily, moans sounding between her condescending snickers. She gathered spit in her mouth and allowed it dribble onto one of your breasts. 

S’hitting it s’good! Fuck, I can’t—

Finally, finally, the tentacles choking your legs unraveled and crawled up, closer to your drenched cunt. Just one touch — you need one touch and you’ll cum. Just one, just one, please, please—

Slut needs t’cum? Beg some fuckin’ more, c’mon, Ellie’s moans and shouts in your head were somehow bringing you closer to that peak you desperately craved. 

“Please, El, please, fuck… me— “

“I’m — oh, fuck, yes— “

Your shorts and underwear were being ripped from around your waist, yanking you in all directions. The friction made your walls constrict tight. The harsh suctions on your clit were instantaneous. Finally, finally, finally—

You and Ellie’s moans melted together, colors floating behind your eyelids. The wet sounds from Ellie’s pussy made your peak build in record time, zoning in on her cries. You’re going to cum so hard. It’s almost there, just a little bit more— 

Ellie’s everywhere. In your head, line of blurry vision, on top of you, about to break and shatter. She's so perfect, shrouded in darkness and gloom and desire.

The tentacle suddenly expanded inside her pussy, stretching it wider, massaging all the spots that made her see white. 

“M’gonna fucking cum, s’gonna make me cum— “

You’re so close, you’re close, you’re close. You wordlessly begged her to cum with you. Her knees trembled while her legs begged to close, but she forced them open. Forced herself to take everything, all of it. The tentacle pulsed sporadically inside her, and she crashed. 

Pleasure was snatched away from you in an instant, the suckles on your clit gone. You cried and sobbed for Ellie to make you cum, but she ignored you, her body wracking in pleasure, heavy globs of black slick dribbling from her cunt, right under your tits. 

She rode it out, bouncing on the large appendage before it shrunk to its original size. It jerked inside her a few more times before leaving her completely, more dark, gooey liquid dripping from her pussy. 

She came down slowly, giddy laughs leaving her swollen lips as her walls rippled from the aftershocks. 

“This is gonna be…” she scooped up some of the substance with her razor-like nails before shoving them into your mouth. 

The peculiar twang coated your tastebuds. She continued. 

“So much fun.” 

You never thought you’d have the chance to kiss Ellie again. 

But you are, and you’re so fucking nervous. 

When you kissed her for the first time, you were confident, impulsive, reckless. Your regret didn’t come until after, but now here you two were, her split tongue messily sliding over yours, your tongue sizzling from the venom coating her mouth. Ellie’s mess seeped into your skin with each jerk of her hips. You’d give anything to touch her. 

Your eyes squeezed shut every time she suckled on your lips, licked up your chin, squeezed her hand over your throat. She’s much more secure this time around; It’s almost enough to get you there. 

Almost. 

You were suddenly yanked back by your hair, head thudding the ground. Ellie seemed deep in thought, eyes distant. 

“You’re a bad kisser.” 

Your lip quivered. Ouch, “S… Sorry…”

“Ellie?” Your throat burned. 

“Yes, dear?”

Her tone made you flinch. Everything you wanted to say left your brain in a cloud of smoke. 

“Am… Am I…?”

“Are youuu…?” She trailed off. Her hand disappeared, lower, before a loud, sticky noise blaring in your head. She sighed happily; Ellie’s touching herself. Right in front of your face. 

Your face is on fire and your shoulders are cramping up. 

“Will… Can I, can I cum?” 

“I don’t know… can you?” She shrugged with a smile. 

Your eyes nearly rolled in annoyance; they would’ve if you weren’t so desperate to be fucked senseless. 

She sat up fully, her wet hand reaching right in between your legs. They nearly clamped shut on her wrist, but more tentacles appeared to hold them open for her. She wasn’t looking at your pussy, but she knew exactly where to touch you. She rubbed her own juices into your clit, a nasty shhlck filling the calm air. 

Tears built in your eyes at the sensitivity, your toes digging into the dirt beneath you. Her thoughtless mumbles were barely registering in your melting brain. Your impending orgasm nearly crashed into you before she stopped. 

Your body tensed and your pleasure dissipated. Sobs left your mouth as you garbled, “E—llie, please, please, no more— “

“Don’t close your legs, I mean it. Take what I give you like a good bitch,” Ellie shimmied down your body, resting in between your legs. The tentacles hooked under your knees and forced them up, holding them right against your chest. You can’t see what Ellie’s doing and she’s silent. 

You wanted to ask what was taking so fucking long—

A loud crack rang through the heavily wooded area, pain searing through your thigh. The stinging sensation brought tears to your eyes, sobbing softly to yourself. 

The sudden flicking against your clit brought tears to your eyes. She’s touching you, finally. Your arms pulled at the veiny tentacles still clamped around your wrist, aches running down to your shoulders at the stiffness. 

Ellie’s fingers were replaced with something much softer, and your body turned to mush. The appendages around your thighs twisted tighter, gripped harder, as the barbs from her tongue caught on your clit. It felt so fucking good; her split muscle moved so quick on your clit; your yelps of her name sound into the crisp air. You’ve been on the verge of cumming this entire time, but you can’t.

Suddenly, her tongue is easing downward, brushing against your perineum. Your hips tried to push down into her muscle, but to no avail. You could feel numbness building in your feet from the restriction. 

Look at this tight little ass, two of her fingers were massaging your other hole, causing you to whimper. 

Yeah? she pressed down harder, Like it right there?

Your head gravely bobbed in approval; you’ve never been touched there, but you crave it now. 

Tiny fucking hole… gotta get you ready, huh?

Her voice is thick and haughty; you’re shivering. 

A glob of spit lands on your ass, the sensitive skin tingling, numbness spreading across the pulsing area. She rubbed it in quickly and gave your hole one last slap. 

Her tongue was back at your cunt; you squealed at the sensation of her tongue slivering past your entrance, walls stretching over her muscle. The soft splinters massaged your walls just right, caressing all the spots inside you and you felt it building — 

Suddenly, her tongue stretched wider, expanded, pressed down on your walls, right on your spot; you were squirting on her tongue seconds later. You couldn’t warn her of your orgasm before you bursted, walls desperately milking her as satisfied shouts escaped your lips, your brain turning to goo. 

“El — mmh! Fuck, yes, rightthere! —“

Sniveled thank yous were pouring from your lips as Ellie fucked into you, your juices coating her face. Bursts of color exploded behind your eyelids. 

You thought you would never come down, but the intensity of your orgasm slowed, eyes slowly blinking open. Your vision was spotty; Ellie slowly pulled out, humming at the squeals that left you. You couldn’t move. 

Suddenly all the tentacles were gone, limbs free and weightlessly plopping onto the ground. Your eyelids fell shut in exhaustion, your heart flooding with longing.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” A light kick on your shoulder. 

Ellie… 

“Get the fuck up. I’m not done,” she snorted coldly. 

Ellie… please…

“What the fuck did I say,” The agitation in her tone rose. 

I’m so sorry… 

“I don’t care,” You were suddenly pushed onto your back, Ellie standing over you, eyes glowing dimly. 

I miss you so much… 

Memories of your past flowed through you, soft sobs shaking your weak form. Ellie deserved… everything good out of life. The purest forms of happiness were destined in her path, and you took it away. You took everything from her, and all you could do was watch what she’s become. What you caused. 

The more you cried, the more disgusted she seemed, eyes growing darker. 

She pounced on you in seconds, nails grasping your bunched sweatshirt and sharp tail tip prepped to end you right then and there, speckles of spit splattering on your face due to her shouts. 

“DON'T!” The dying world around you shook with the bass of her tone. “Don’t you fucking dare!” 

You didn’t fight. You allowed her to berate you, call you every vile name in the book, and digested her wishes of you dying instead of her. Every scream slammed into your chest; you merely laid there, ready to die with love in your chest. 

I love you… I love you… I love you… 

“FUCK YOU, YOU LYING BITCH! FUCK YOU! YOU FUCKING DID THIS TO ME! I’M GONNA KILL YOU— “

Bloody streams fall from Ellie’s eyes, the veins in her head changing from maroon to coal, the veins in her arms darkening as her voice deepened, razorous teeth baring. She sobbed and screamed from above you, wailing how much she hated you. You’re numb. 

The venom from her tail was discharging from the tip. It’s time; it’s your last day alive. You nodded to yourself. You deserve this; You’re ready. You hope your siblings aren’t too saddened by your disappearance. 

Is this the final stage of grief? Your body is lax and accepting, heavy droplets leaving your eyes when they shut. 

I love you… I’m sorry… I love you… 

Another sharp prick went through your shoulder, and darkness enclosed around you. 

JUNIOR YEAR: 2012

You’re such a dork!

Ellie swears her heart is going to grow legs and crawl up her throat in the next thirty seconds if you keep staring at her like that. She's projecting; She’s the dork!

The few shots she took at the lake were wearing off, and her nerves were finally catching up to her. She was surrounded by your pillows, your stuffies, your scent; she could barely swallow, her throat was so dry. 

You love me. 

She does. Ellie never acted on her swiftly developed crush; she’s not built for rejection, especially from you. The smile on your face was so bright; your joy was so apparent whenever she was around. She hoped her own happiness reflected the same way; Please love me back! Please please please—

Her heart exploded, sewed itself back together, only to explode again when your hand came up, fingertips barely grazing her cheek. She’s going to faint; your touch was so soft. Was she crazy to compare the feel of your hands to rose petals? She tried to keep her nuzzles subtle, pushing her face closer to your hand; Is this how cats feel when they want cuddles? 

You proceeded to explore her face in silent adoration, and she did the same, memorizing every detail she could. The moles on your face were lined like stars. 

She scooted closer to give you more access to her now burning skin, and you kissed her. Ellie was stunned, body stiff; she didn’t have a chance to kiss you back before you pulled away. The scent of alcohol was pouring from you, and Ellie snapped back to reality. 

You’re drunk. You kissed her and you’re drunk. 

You’re probably not going to remember the entire night when you wake the next morning. Ellie’s eyes nervously searched your now downcast face. Say something, you coward! 

But you spoke first. 

You love me, right? 

More than anything, Ellie wanted to scream, not caring if your parents woke up and kicked her out. But she couldn’t. Her brain was moving a million miles a minute, trying to find the words that would satisfy her feelings, but they were too strong. She’s in too deep; Words aren’t enough. 

But you look broken and your body’s tense. She’s putting you on edge and she hates herself for it. 

Do you love me? Your begging tone snapped her out of her head. 

Of course I do, she gasped, mouth gaping like a fish. 

More than anything! More than anything! I love you! 

You only nodded, relaxed back into her, and shut your eyes. 

Ellie went to sleep with a terrible feeling in her stomach, but she held you anyway. 

Ellie’s weight crushed you as she sobbed into your neck, her cries loud and guttural, the sharp puncture of her horn pressing into the plush of your cheek. Her curses grew weak and quiet, mumbles of I fucking hate you cementing into your skin. 

You simply laid beneath her, unmoving and stunned wordless at the memory — the truth that Ellie exposed to you. Her body jerked on yours as she wailed. 

You hardly noticed the fresh tears rolling down your face. You sniffed, “Ellie…”

She sobbed, her head shaking dismissively. 

“Ellie… Look at me…” You couldn’t move. 

“Fuck you,” her choked murmur was hushed. 

A sad smile grew on your face. 

“Almost did…” 

Ellie sniffed harshly against the burnt skin on your neck, almost touching your bloody shoulder, “What.” She mumbled flatly. 

“Y’know… you almost did fuck me.” 

Some silence passed before a wet snort came from below you. Your grin widened. 

Ellie’s shoulders shook slightly as she snickered into your neck, arching hers slightly to look at you. 

“I should kill you for that, you cunt. You’re not funny.” 

Your body jerked with laughter, and you grimaced at the pain in your shoulder. “That's what you get.” Ellie sat up straight, smile slowly dissipating, eyes glossing over. 

The light moment between you shifted, and sorrow weighed you down like bricks. 

“I fucking loved you,” Ellie whispered harshly. “I wanted you to be happy. And you didn’t fucking care.” Anger was radiating off her, but the dread in her eyes was more telling. “You were… everything to me.” 

The wounds in your heart were overflowing; your efforts of repairing your heart were proved pointless, blood and love and suffering filling your chest to the brim. Quiet sobs were shared between the two of you.

“Please k-kiss me,” Ellie’s eyes squeezed shut at your hushed proposal. 

“Just one more. You can do whatever you want… just one last time.” 

You sat up slowly, ignoring the deep aches in your side, your trembling hands cautiously raising to cup Ellie’s frosty cheeks. 

Her face is so close; her lips are right there… just one more, just one—

Ellie’s eyes traveled across your face, lust and years of longing flooding in her tears. Her eyes shut and she leaned forward, her cold lips melding against yours. The kiss was gentle, your eyes squeezing shut as you cried, your tears transferring onto her cheeks. 

Ellie’s hushed tone filled your head. 

I wish I hated you. 

You choked a sob, arms wrapping around her hips to pull her closer, her arms enclosing around your neck, the kiss growing hotter. You needed her closer; so much closer. 

Her tongue slid past your mouth, the split muscle messily flicking over yours as her hips bucked down. You heard loud tears of cloth coming from behind you as Ellie shredded your sweatshirt with her claws, discarding the fabric on the dark heaps of grass. 

She sighed into your mouth when you laid her back onto the grass soaking, crawling on top of her. Her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you down to reconnect your mouths, her fangs cutting into your bottom lip. She sucked the injured skin, humming at the metallic taste; your hips bucked down harder to meet hers, and she whimpered. 

Her hands were freezing as they slid down your bare sides, claws pressing into your hips. You could feel your heart pounding in your throat as you kissed down her neck, soft noises of satisfaction erupting from beneath you. You suckled on her throat, tongue sliding down to her jaw and back up again.

“Can I, fuck, let me do something— “

You moaned in approval, thighs shaking at the sound of her voice, coming back up to press your mouth against hers. 

A heavy gasp left you at the feel of slime dripping onto your thigh. Ellie dug her nails into your hips to steady you, and you whined at the sting. You stared down, entranced at her gleaming eyes, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. 

“Hold still.” Ellie’s whisper was strangely comforting, your body relaxing into hers. The light suck on your thigh made you squeak, chuckles releasing from the girl beneath you. 

“And you’ve been doing this for how long?” you jokingly snarked, voice shaky. 

“Meh, six years, nothing crazy,” she replied, shrugging sarcastically. “Just don’t move.” 

Ellie’s hand moved lower, pressing at the end of your spine to deepen the arch in your back. She shushed your eager whimpers, slowly easing your hips back until your cunt brushed against the serpent-like organ. You shuddered and attempted to jerk away at the strange sensation, but Ellie held you still, snorting to herself. 

A sharp gasp escaped your lips at the feel of its tip swirling at your clit, your head dropping onto Ellie’s shoulder. It took mere seconds for the suction to attack your sensitive clit, pleasured moans huffing from your mouth. Ellie’s mouth was right by your ear, her chilled breaths sending shockwaves down your spine. Your clit throbbed under the pressure: how were you already on the verge of cumming? 

“Feels g-good? Yeah?” 

Your walls were squeezing down harshly, desperate to hug and milk something hot through your orgasm. It takes all your strength to lift your head and kiss Ellie, but she does all the work; licking into your mouth, sucking on your tongue, bruising your lips with every slice of her fang. Every pass of her tongue is a pull in your gut, your clit pulsating with vigor. 

She pulled back, just barely, to whisper how excited she is to fuck you, to turn your pussy out, to make you cry.  Your moans were loud and eager, your head bobbing dumbly in compliance with anything she wanted. You’d give her everything you could in this moment. 

Ellie’s in your head, in your senses, in between your thighs, and you’re losing it. She’s reaching at you, tugging at your body in any way she could: scratching at your tits, pulling your hair, clawing into your skin with intent to scar. You’re sure your back is bloody. Her touch is painful; why does it feel so good? 

Your thoughtless head drops yet again as your orgasm is forced out of you, your walls choking the hot air surrounding the two of you. Your wails are muffled along with Ellie’s spat praises, your hips bucking back for more. The pleasure is almost too much and you’ve barely started; She hasn’t even fucked you yet. 

Your juices are pooling out of you, knowingly making a puddle on Ellie’s tummy, her affirmed moans pulling more and more out of you. Your peak is unrelenting, draining every last bit of energy your body has left. Your limbs gave out, your weight crashing on top of Ellie’s. 

She hastily maneuvered you onto your back, the spines of grass puncturing your skin from beneath you as she climbed on top. 

“Your stamina’s fucked.” 

Her winded snide remarks didn’t bother you; you need her to fuck you. You’re sweaty and desperate to feel her everywhere. She wasted no time, reuniting your mouths in an eager kiss as her hands ventured anywhere they could. Your body’s aching, but for some reason, you crave more. More hurt, more pain; You need her to use you. 

The world around you moved like water; unlike your first dream, the waves brought comfort. Ellie’s touch felt like the ocean washing you away, all with effort to finally bring you peace. 

But it didn’t work. You love her; You deserve pain, and you love her. 

Her mouth is on your tits, biting and sucking at your nipples. It feels so good to have her this close; your body’s wet and ready for her to ravish you. 

Ellie scurried down your body, sat on her knees in between your legs, her hands pressed under yours to hold them up. Your thighs are resting on your chest as Ellie dribbles a line of slobber over your soaking lips. Hums fill the space between you as it slides down, right over your entrance. 

Seconds pass as Ellie stares at your cunt; You call out to her by mistake. 

“What.” 

Fuck. “No-nothing. Sorry.”

“You want something. Say it.” 

You shake your head, and she smiles. Raunchy imagery of her fucking your pussy flash across your mind in an instant, and her grin widens. 

You jolt at the sudden slap on your cunt before Ellie presses your legs even higher, knees almost next to your head. You ignore the aching stretch in your limbs and reach to grab your ass cheeks, holding them open for her. Heat spreads across your face when she moans at the sight. 

Oh fuck, Ellie’s whimpering to herself; whining about how good your pussy’s going to feel, how you’re going to swallow her whole, choke her out. Juices are oozing from your cunt with each jerk of your walls. 

A tentacle emerges from the ground, and Ellie’s expression darkens. It’s lecherous; the way she eyes your pussy as the organ slivers closer to your entrance. You couldn’t hold your moans in anticipation of the stretch. It’s right there, swelling and twitching. 

Your head falls back against the sopping grass when your hole grasps the wide, leaking tip, eyes rolling into your head as Ellie’s moans ring deep in your skull. The tentacle is practically melting between your walls as they spasm. 

Ellie’s so loud above you, completely hunched over your form as her body shudders, her lip trapped between her sharp teeth. They must’ve pierced the skin, a thin trail of black liquid dripping all the way down her neck. 

You take it so fuckin’ good, Ellie’s slurring, tongue swelled in her mouth. You’re already peaking, your legs attempting to slam shut at the tight hug of your walls. The organ is suddenly swelling, walls stretching around the girth to trap it as deep as it can go. Tears are running down your face, groans of Ellie’s name melding with your harsh breaths. 

Seconds pass, and the tentacle’s shooting inside, and your head goes blank, your orgasm slamming into you. You're silent as it wrings your body. The intensity is almost painful, like it’s being forced from your body and your cunt’s drained dry: it’s hot inside you where the fluid pools, and your walls are sucking it deeper. 

You didn’t register Ellie falling forward, her body convulsing on yours, screams of how good your cunt is leaving her in a flurry. Her words are gritted and deep and her nails are in your bicep, but the pain only makes you cum harder. 

It’s been minutes, and you’re deadweight, walls twitching around the still jerking organ planted deep inside your guts. No time to recover, though; Ellie’s pulling out, a nasty sound echoing at her departure as cum seeps — drenches the grass under you. It’s never-ending and sticky and you need more. 

Ellie’s already up and moving you onto your stomach, your cheek pressed against the dirt. She’s hasty, spitting on your cunt with a fiery just a dumb slut, huh? You nod, squeezing your walls to push more cum out. There are heavy suctions on your back, forcing blood to the surface at the curve of your spine. Followed by a sharp stabbing on your ass cheek. 

Ellie’s mouth is on your supple skin, and the blood in your ass rushes to the surface. Her fangs are locked into you as she empties the veins in your ass. 

You couldn’t even scream, eyes squeezing shut at the searing pain as your walls release more cum. Ellie hums: another bite. More blood’s leaving you, being sucked from your ass, your thighs, the end of your spine, but it’s not enough. You need more. Ellie’s draining you but it’s not nearly enough. 

Another tentacle presses in once more, and your vision’s blurring; there’s another tentacle sucking at your ass, your eyes crossing at the stimulation of both your holes. Ellie’s nails are breaking the skin of your back, dribbles of blood sliding down your sides and into the dirt. You love her and you love it; everything feels so warm and full and good. 

Ellie’s chides are making you wetter; your thighs won’t stop shaking, she sounds so sexy. Every shockwave in your brain is memorizing every word, every syllable. She's babbling about how she might spare, keep you trapped here forever so she can drain your blood through your pussy, suck you dry, and it gets you there again. 

Ellie — m’cu—cumming!

You don’t know what you’re saying; voice muffled against the dirt, tears and snot running down your face while you squeal like a pig. Ellie’s calling you one as you squirt on her, just a dumb, worthless pocketpussy; The smile on your face is stupid as your walls drain her while she throbs inside you. You’re so stuffed with her cum already, but you need more inside you. You feel so fucking good and the pleasure won’t seize. 

It picks up again as the thrusts get faster, hitting you deeper, just where you need it. You don’t get to recover before you’re slung into another mind-numbing orgasm, your body wracking without rest. Ellie’s massaging every spot that makes your spine break, dirt collecting under your nails as they puncture the ground. Your groans are cracking in your throat; You can’t even swallow. 

The tentacle’s swelling again, and Ellie’s hand is on the back of your head, pressing your cheek against the grass, nails scratching at your scalp as you beg for her cum. Her moans are picking up again, demanding that you beg some more, that you fucking cry for it, be a good girl a bleed for me. And you do. 

As messily as you can; slobber pooling at your mouth as you sob and choke for her cum, eyes crossed in your skull as your tongue lolls, and Ellie’s shooting in you again, stuffing you to the brim as she cries your name from behind, grunts leaving her with each rope of cum seeps in your womb. 

Your pussy’s melting around her when the sucking at your ass pauses, only to push in the incredibly tight space, to stretch your virgin hole open around its girth. It should hurt, having both holes filled to such a wild degree, but it doesn’t. Your weak arm is reaching behind, desperately grabbing at Ellie. You expect her to smack you away, to hit you, to slice your hand clean off your wrist, but she doesn’t; You almost miss the light touch, her pinky lacing with yours. 

You’re joyous, head dropping as you sob from pleasure and happiness, heart filled with a love that you never thought you’d feel again. 

She’s drilling your ass, fucking you so hard and good as she holds your smallest finger with hers, kissing down your bloody back, licking up the scarlet that leaks from your skin. Suddenly, another tentacle — much smaller than the ones tearing your holes up — emerges from the ground, right in front of your face, its juices leaking onto your cheeks. 

It wiggles in front of your open mouth before shoving in; the taste is salty and metallic, but your lips work it, sucking and licking all around the length. You feel so filthy and it’s making your tummy tug, another orgasm building in your pussy and ass. It’s going to shatter you completely from its strength, you can feel it. 

Your body’s aching for more cum; you’re surprised it’s not coming spilling from your throat and onto the appendage in your mouth. But Ellie’s close, every whisper becoming more frantic as she rides that edge. 

You’re mine, she whispers in your ear, Fucking mine, you understand? You’re not going anywhere. 

You get it, you get it! You’re never leaving her again. Fuck everything you’ve built for yourself! Your life is pointless without Ellie next to you. You’re going to cum so hard for her. 

Your body’s hers; Your heart is hers; your soul is hers. You love her, you love her! 

Baby likes that? I own this fucking pussy? 

She knows she does: whispers so gross and conniving and you’re twitching under her. You’re babbling around the swelling appendage, telling her — screaming that you belong to her, you always have. You always will! 

You feel her teeth as she grins madly in satisfaction, sloppily mumbling mine mine s’ my pussy against your skin as she swells inside you. You’re stretching, gaping around her and you snap, head planting into the dirt. Both sets of walls clamp down sporadically around the large digits between them, the tentacle slipping from your mouth as you scream. 

Ellie’s exploding inside both holes, the tentacle above you spraying all over your face, heavy globs of cum landing in your hair, the back of your neck, splattering on your mouth, anywhere it could reach. Juices are spraying from between you, and Ellie falls forward, her freezing chest on your back as she jerks on top of you. Hearing her just as destroyed from the pleasure sends another surge of euphoria through you, somehow stronger than the first. 

You can barely take it, but Ellie makes you, continues flooding your holes until they’re overflowing and sticky. You’re both sent to another plane as you convulse together, her pinky still locked with yours as you lose consciousness. 

When you wake, there’s warmth. 

You’re still filled to the brim with cum, but your form is blanketed. Small, tired huffs hit your back as Ellie shivers on top of you, barely audible noises alerting her satisfaction. You smile. 

You can't move; all your strength is used to wiggle the cramped muscle of your interlocked finger. Tears well in your eyes when Ellie’s finger hugs yours tighter with every small movement. 

Ellie’s the blanket; Ellie’s warm. 

Suddenly, everything around you is pink, the formerly empty spaces in your heart filled with affection. You missed Ellie so much; You’re finally reunited, and in love. You can’t stop smiling, and neither can she. 

—

—

—

‘BREAKING NEWS: BAKERY OWNER FOUND DECAPITATED IN MOTEL BED’

Today marks one of the most heart-wrenching, horrifying days that our community has ever seen, the local reporter stated. We have never witnessed a case end this disastrous. 

To the loved ones of this individual, we share our deepest condolences. The victim made such a large impact on our tiny town with her small business. Nobody… the reporter sighed, Nobody could’ve seen this coming. 

Please be on the lookout for any updates regarding the suspect. Investigators are putting as much effort into this case as they can. Police suggest staying indoors with your loved ones this holiday until further instructions. 

May God be with her family. Have a blessed night. 

idk how to use picsart sorry yall LOL

taggiesss ily thank u 4 being patient :D :

@digit4lslut @hrtmal @sawaagyapong @starologist @shurisbigtoe @iamtootiredtopost @elliew-illiamsmissingfingers @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @slutty4abby @chrry1ovr @moonchild184 @womenofarcane @ohlawdthebirds @ellabsprincess @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @dropsofs4turn @masclover111 @dyk3ang3l @zzzlove @jayy2inlovee @aandersonsbackpack @jade-posts-sometimes @elspeanut @elsbunny222 @alittlextrahoney @ultraviolenceellie @shamelessparty @0verthebluemoon @yuckyfucky

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.0k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Secret Relationship; Implied Sexual Content; Suggestive Situations; Angst; Undefined Relationships; Overprotective Family; Background Relationships; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: Your relationship with Jake "Hangman" Seresin wasn't easily defined. But with some unexpected news, you might have to put a label on it soon.

Series Master List

Master List

Growing up with an overprotective older brother and an overprotective father figure, you learned how to be sneaky from a rather young age. It just was not worth the shovel talk every single time that you wanted to go out on a date. You decided a long time ago that what Bradley and Mav didn’t know wouldn’t kill them. 

And in your current predicament, what they didn’t know wouldn’t kill Jake either. 

“Goddamn, Cow Girl,” Jake breathed out with a throaty laugh as he trailed his hand up and down your back. “What a ride.”

“You say that like you did any of the work,” you huffed, picking your head up from his chest. Narrowing your eyes at him playfully, you sat up further and shook your head as Jake’s eye’s immediately dropped to your breasts. “Pillow Princess.”

“I’ll make it up to you next time,” Jake replied with that usual cocky shit-eating grin. Squeezing your hips, he locked eyes with you once again. “A repeat of that weekend up at that beach house with that private balcony.” Sitting up himself, Jake leaned in closer so that your noses brushed. “I had to carry you inside after that, if I remember correctly.”

“You remember everything that boosts your own ego,” you replied, trying to slide off of him. Jake, however, instantly reached out and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back to his side. Letting out a semi-annoyed laugh, you looked back at him over your shoulder. “Jake, I have to go.”

“They can figure it out without you.”

“They can’t fit my dress to me without me.”

“They’ll figure it out.” Rolling over to try and keep you in his bed for another hour, Jake hovered over you and stared down at your face, like he was trying to memorize it. “Stay.”

“Oh, so now you want to be on top?” you joked, though Jake wasn’t laughing. Sending him a softer look, you sighed. “I have to go. I’m the maid of honor. And Nat will kill the both of us if I’m late for this. You know that.”

“She’s honestly turning into a bridezilla,” Jake stated, causing you to shoot him a dirty look. 

“Maybe because the best man keeps fucking up all of her plans.”

“I’m just trying to improve them,” Jake drawled, earning an eye roll from you. 

“Right. Well, I need to go before you ‘improve’ Nat’s wedding by taking out her maid of honor.”

Rolling out from underneath Jake, you stood up from his bed and headed into the bathroom. Cleaning yourself up quickly and managing to brush your hair down, you walked over to where your clothes were scattered on the ground of Jake’s bedroom. 

“I can’t wait until this wedding is over,” Jake sighed, watching reluctantly as you put your clothes on. “Everyone’s so stressed about it. Javy’s been working on his vows for weeks and he’s gotten one word written.”

“What word?”

“Nat,” Jake explained, causing you to laugh. 

“Poor Javy,” you laughed, buttoning up your shirt. Walking back to where Jake was sitting on the edge of his bed, you leaned down so that you were eye level with him with a soft smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tonight?” Jake tried to convince you.

“I’ll text you when I’m done,” you offered, earning a kiss from Jake. “It could be a while though.”

“I’m a patient man,” Jake replied as you headed out of his bedroom. 

“We both know that’s a lie.”

~~~~~

Your sister-in-law offered to go first for her fitting, leaving you and Phoenix on the couch at the back of the dress shop. Phoenix waited until the door shut to the fitting room before turning to you with a knowing look.

“You were with Bagman, weren’t you?” 

“Emma is right there,” you shushed Phoenix, glancing over at your sister-in-law’s fitting room. “And the last thing that I need is my brother finding out.”

“Emma’s not a snitch,” Phoenix dismissed, still wearing that knowing look. “And besides, it’s not like the two of you are subtle.” Phoenix shook her head and glanced around the room. “I’m still scarred from seeing that shit.”

“And I’ve apologized at least fifteen times.”

“He hasn’t,” Phoenix muttered back. 

“He’s just an exhibitionist,” you mumbled, waving your hand to the side. 

“He’s going to get the two of you caught by someone who’s not going to react as well as Javy and I did,” Phoenix stated, causing you to wince and subconsciously run a hand through your hair to make sure that it didn’t look too much like sex hair. “Did you at least talk to him about defining whatever the hell it is you two have going on?”

“Well . . .” Phoenix groaned on your behalf, causing you to jitter nervously. “What? What’s wrong with just having fun?”

“Let me ask you one question,” Phoenix stated, turning to face you fully. “If Hangman hooked up with another woman, would you be upset?” Before you could even verbally respond, your face gave away your answer. “Exactly. So, you need to have that talk. For your own sanity.”

“Yeah, I know,” you sighed, rubbing your face. “I’ll talk to him. After your wedding. Because I am absolutely focused on your wedding from now until you leave for your honeymoon.”

“I appreciate that,” Phoenix replied calmly with a small smile. “But just be careful with Hangman, okay? He doesn’t exactly have the best reputation with committed relationships. Or any kind of relationship, really.” 

“Can’t people change?” you suggested, causing Phoenix to shrug her shoulders. 

“If they want to, I guess.”

Before you could respond, Emma walked out of the changing room, all done with her fitting. The seamstress walked off with Emma’s dress in hand to put it away and grab yours as Emma walked over to where you and Phoenix were sitting. 

“You alright?” Emma asked you. “You look stressed.”

“I’m fine,” you assured your sister-in-law with a small smile.“How’s the house coming? Did Bradley finally take the stick out of his ass about it?”

“It took some back and forth but they agreed to fix the plumbing problems and the air conditioner and we should all set to close and finally move in sometime next month. And I really hope that it works out. I feel so bad taking over Mav’s house,” Emma stated, sitting down on your other side. 

“Mav doesn’t mind. He’d let you move in permanently if it was what you wanted.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that Bradley wouldn’t go for that,” Emma laughed, probably picturing your brother’s annoyed face. “He said that he feels like a teenager again.”

“Well, he acts like one half the time anyways,” you joked, wearing that classic little sister smirk.

“And he has to make sure that Mav is at least a five mile radius away before he touches me. Something about a traumatic experience.” 

“Oh, yeah, he got caught by Mav with his high school girlfriend when they were sixteen because he’s an idiot and mixed up the days that Mav was supposed to be working late,” you explained, remembering how Bradley wouldn’t even look at Mav for a week after that. “And she dumped him too, I think, because she was too embarrassed.” 

“How the hell have you survived the three months then?” Phoenix asked, doing the math. 

“We’ve taken a lot of long car rides,” Emma replied with a smirk, causing you to gag. 

“Oh, my fucking—I’m leaving,” you stated, getting up from the couch. “Remind me to never step foot into the Bronco ever again. Disgusting.” 

“What about you?” Emma asked, turning back to you. “Going to show up to the wedding with a hot date that you haven’t told anyone about?” 

“Why would I do that?” you asked, turning back to your sister-in-law. 

“You don’t think that anyone’s noticed? You showed up to the Hard Deck one night with a hickey right under your collar.”

“Are you ready for your fitting?” the seamstress asked, causing you to look away from Emma.  

“Yes, please,” you agreed, walking over to her. Turning back to Emma and Phoenix, you shrugged your shoulders innocently. “Sorry, I have to go.” 

The seamstress led you back into the fitting room. Pulling on the blue bridesmaid dress that you ordered months ago, you held it to your chest as the seamstress did up the back of the dress. But you winced as she tugged on the string, tightening your dress uncomfortably around your midriff and breasts. 

“Hmm,” she murmured to herself, loosening the fabric. “A little tight.” 

“Just a little,” you murmured stiffly, trying to adjust the top of the dress. 

“Maybe they took your measurements wrong,” the seamstress replied, which is probably what she told everyone that gained weight right before a fitting. “It’s no problem. We will just loosen it here in the back.”

“Yeah, that should work,” you agreed softly, staring nervously at your reflection in the mirror. 

~~~~~

After you finished up with the dress fittings, Emma insisted that you come back to Maverick’s house for dinner. And even though you were very much interested in going to see Jake again, you agreed since you hadn’t seen your brother or Mav for about a week now. Pulling into the familiar driveway right behind Emma, you followed her inside. Your brother Rooster was in the kitchen, cooking something that you couldn’t yet see. 

“I’m home!” Emma called, causing Rooster to pick his head up and smile.

“Hey, baby,” he returned happily, pulling Emma in for a kiss.

“Please don’t make out in front of me,” you huffed dramatically, hanging up your purse and covering your eyes. 

“Don’t look,” Rooster replied back to you, releasing his wife. 

“Hey, did you finish up those lesson plans with Hangman?” Emma asked, glancing over the food that Rooster was preparing. 

“No. The dickhead keeps dragging his ass about it,” Rooster complained, causing you to glance out the window. “He’s been a bigger pain in the ass than usual.” 

“Just be glad that he promised to not have Javy’s bachelor party in Vegas,” Emma reminded Rooster, bumping his hip with her own. “And that he swore to all of you guys that there would be no strippers at the party.”

“Shocking considering the company that he usually keeps,” Rooster muttered, causing you to pause, taken aback by your brother’s words. “Besides, I’m pretty sure that Nat would have actually strangled him if he got a stripper.” Rooster glanced between you and his wife. “You guys were smart to do the bachelorette party earlier.” 

Rooster reached over and grabbed the cover on the pot of whatever he was cooking and in an instant, the smell hit you like a ton of bricks. Covering your mouth with your hand as your stomach rolled dangerously, you reached quickly for the door to the backyard. 

“Jesus, you look ill,” Rooster commented, earning a sharp look from his wife. 

“What—” Emma called, walking after you, but you were already bent over. 

Emptying what little was left in your stomach onto the ground out behind Mav’s deck, you coughed and gagged as more threatened to come up. 

“Jesus Christ, are you okay!?” Emma yelled, rushing to your side. “You looked a little flushed at the dress shop, but now I think you’re really sick.” 

“It was just fish,” Rooster insisted, stepping out onto the back porch. 

“Fuck off, Brad—oh shit.”

You gripped the edge of the deck harshly, trying to keep what was left in your stomach there. Sweat was starting to drip down your forehead as your stomach rolled again. Emma, unlike your brother, was helpful and brushed your hair out of your face. 

“What did you eat earlier?” Emma asked, waving at her husband to bring some water. 

“Nothing strange,” you replied, gasping a bit. “Just my normal stuff.” 

“Maybe something went bad.” 

“Jesus, what the hell do you have?” he asked, resting a hand on your back as he brought you a glass of water. 

“The urge to push you over the side,” you muttered, glaring over at your brother. 

“What the hell’s going on?” Maverick questioned, walking around the side of the house. 

“Nothing, Mav,” you insisted, taking the tissue from Rooster’s hand. “Just Rooster’s cooking all over again.” 

“You didn’t even eat anything. It was just the smell that set you off.” 

“Probably because you’re a horrible cook,” you muttered, wiping the spit off of your face. “Sorry about that, Mav.” 

“I’ll just wash it away with water,” Maverick insisted, hopping up onto the deck. “Are you sure that you’re feeling alright? Did you need a ride home?” 

“No, no, I'll just drink some water and I’ll be fine.” 

“You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. I think that seamstress just yanked my dress a little too tight and wobbled up my stomach,” you laughed off, trying not to worry your family. “I’ll be fine.” 

You ended up staying for a few more minutes, but the smell came to be too much and Maverick drove you home, picking up some broth and ginger ale for you on the way. While he was inside the grocery store, you shot Jake a quick text. 

Sorry, I think I’m coming down with something. I won’t be making it over.

After about five seconds, your phone buzzed with Jake’s reply.

Did you want me to come over and take care of you?

You stared down at your phone for a moment before you noticed that Maverick was already walking out of the store and back to your car. 

Mav’s here. I’ll be fine. Thanks tho. 

~~~~~

It was a few days before Phoenix and Coyote’s wedding, and despite your sudden illness, you quickly recovered. You went over to Jake’s place like you planned the next day and acted like nothing was wrong in the first place. Though when you mentioned that to Penny during your weekly chat, she seemed concerned. 

“Just the smell of the fish caused you to throw up?” Penny asked as you walked down the boardwalk together. 

“Yeah, but you haven’t seen his usual mess,” you brushed off, not concerned. “He was an absolute trash chef until he met Emma. And now he’s just a slightly less terrible chef.”

“Have you been throwing up recently? Or nauseous?”

“A little here and there with nausea but I haven’t thrown up since that night. But it’s probably just the wedding. Everyone’s on edge about it and I'm the maid of honor. It’s a lot of stress.”

“Definitely,” Penny asked, part of her brain telling her to just leave her hunch alone. You were an adult. You could handle yourself. But then those maternal instincts kicked in. “Any other symptoms that’ve been bothering you?”

“No,” you insisted, laughing off Penny’s concern. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Just that with you throwing up just because of the smell of something and you said that you’ve been feeling randomly nauseous lately . . .” Penny trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence but when you didn’t finish it on your own, she continued. “You’re sure that there aren’t any other symptoms?”

“Penny, are you asking me if I’m pregnant?” you asked, turning to face her. 

“I mean, is there a chance?”

“I’m on birth control,” you insisted quietly. 

“And you’ve never missed a pill?”

“Well . . .” Grabbing your purse nervously, you glanced up and down the boardwalk and turned back to Penny. “Maybe one or two.”

“That happens,” Penny assured you, putting up a brave face. “But if there’s no other symptoms, then I’m sure you’re fine.”

“My dress was a little tight at my fitting,” you added, causing Penny to pause. “But that could just be my weight fluctuating with stress and everything.”

“Of course with the wedding and everything,” Penny agreed, nodding along. “And besides, you use other protection, right?”

“Oh, yeah . . .” you trailed off, voice barely above a whisper. Because there were more than a few times that you and Jake didn’t bother to use a condom. “Most of the time.”

There was a moment of silence that passed between the two of you before you pulled out your keys. Wordlessly, Penny grabbed your shoulder supportively and the two of you turned for the car. You drove down the road to the pharmacy, grabbed a handful of tests, and returned to the Hard Deck. Penny let you into her private bathroom next to her office and handed you the bag. 

“It’s just a precaution,” Penny told you, trying to keep you calm. 

“It’s just a precaution,” you repeated softly. 

Penny sat behind her desk, pretending to do work while her brain moved a thousand miles a minute. The first question was, of course, who the father would be if you were pregnant. And Penny had a guess. A pretty good guess. She saw all and she saw the way that you hung off of Hangman’s arm on the back deck one night when you thought no one was watching. And she saw the way that Hangman’s eyes just seemed to naturally trail after you. 

But she shouldn’t get ahead of herself. She didn’t even know that you were pregnant yet. 

The door to the bathroom opened a few minutes later and you slowly stepped out, holding three different white plastic tests in your shaking hands. Staring down at the tests for a moment, you finally turned to look up at Penny. 

“Well?” she asked, getting up from behind her desk and walking over to you. 

Silently, you handed the tests to Penny. She glanced down at the tests as you felt your stomach roll again. Dropping your purse, you turned and hurried into the bathroom. Penny dropped the tests and hurried after you, pulling back your hair as you heaved. 

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (x) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6 p7 p8 p9

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : after three resentful weeks apart, only matt and y/n could find themselves more fond of each other.

warnings : angst, fluffy, mentions of alcohol and weed, sort of proofread

mickey speaks : THANK U FOR UR PATIENCE SWEET ANGELS HERE’S THE 10TH PART FOR YOU!!! tgwtt is already in double digits 🥹 only like 8 more parts to go

THIS IS PART TEN GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST PLEASE!!!

"COME on y/n we'll have so much fun!"

you haven't had a night out in weeks.

following matt's party, you swore off alcohol until your own birthday in mid-september, afraid of the amount you'd allow yourself to consume now that you're feelings are supremely hurt and bitterness coated your tongue.

it was difficult to turn down the first week, despite the smell and taste of any drink making your stomach turn you craved the drunken effect and secretly wanted to run into matt- just to see what he'd have the nerve to say to you. but the mature, wiser part of your brain knows there is nothing good to come from spiteful drinking. so you've declined every weekend.

you know in your heart that your friends only want you to feel good and have fun with them. it's the only reason you've tolerated this current conversation for so long.

"i believe you! but i'm just saying i'll have just as much fun with this bowl of strawberries and my bed," you reach into a cabinet for one of the many off-white glass bowls.

"baby you haven't been out with us in so long, we miss you!" remi beams kicking her legs as she sits atop your counter, fully dressed and decorated for her night out (contrasting the bare face, oversized tee, and panties you wear).

you sigh and look over to the three girls huddled in your kitchen, "no, you guys know 'm not drinking right now," you shake your head and push off of the counter heading towards the fridge in search of your berries.

"i'm just confused on why you're suddenly so strict on drinking? and regardless of the drinking you could have fun without it if you loosen up a bit..." erin replies while resting her body against the wall next to remi's spot.

you roll your eyes while your face is still in your fridge before shutting it back, "i don't understand what's not clicking erin, i don't want to go out at all! i want to stay at home and be away from drunk people and watch something brainless and then i wanna go take a fucking bath. i'm so tired of having to explain and repeat myself. please go, please have a good time, and please- respectfully, mind your business."

you run water over your strawberries and andrea's eyes widen as she turns back towards the counter to pour herself another shot.

"alright, whatever.” erin shakes her head, “dre, remi, i'm gonna go wait outside this is annoying. she can stay bitter," she walks out and whispers, "bitch," under her breath before shutting the door.

it's silent for a second as you begin to harshly cut the stems off of the fruit, remi comes behind you and wraps a caring arm over your shoulder for a hug, "are you okay?"

"yes, i'm fine, you can go have fun..." you turn to face her and offer a strawberry.

"i really do miss you,” you kisses your shoulder and bites into the strawberry, “love you," she reminds you as she grabs her bag and dismisses herself to check with erin. you nod your head and continue to stare blankly as you repeatedly cut.

andrea speaks up after hearing the door fully shut. she breathes heavily as she stares down at her hands on the counter, "cariña ("honey"), you’re not a bitch.”

“i know…” your voice is small.

“i know you do. i also know something’s hurting you badly right now and i selfishly wish you’d fucking tell me so i could help.” she licks her glossed lips, “but as long as you’re being kind to yourself, i can deal with you keeping this to yourself.”

your eyes brim with salty tears and when you let out a broken sniffle she's immediately by your side. "nooo don’t cry, i’m already pre-drunk! you know i will too!" you try to continue preparing your fruit but andrea turns your body to make room for a warm hug. you're quick to tuck your face into her perfumed neck and let out your feelings through cry's.

you had always thought that what andrea (or anyone) didn't know about your sex life with matt wouldn't kill her, but quite frankly it's killing you. you want to tell her everything he’s ever made you feel- for all andrea knows matt was once a silly crush and currently a little less than a friend to you.

but at the same time you just know she would tell you to stop seeing him if she knew everything. she would remind you that at your core you are far too caring and attached to handle recurring casual sex with him in the first place.

"i'm so sorry, drea. i really wanna tell you but i’m not ready." you croak pitifully.

not ready to accept the embarrassment of wanting him to like you this bad.

and for someone as willingly vulnerable as you, you’re especially not ready to hear her scold you a little for somehow hurting your own feelings and putting your friendship with erin on a thin line over some guy.

your words only confuse her brain more, but she can only continue to rub circles into your back and silently pray you didn’t do something illegal or, like, morally cruel.

౨ৎ

matt would love to say he hasn’t thought about you since you bitched out on him the night of his birthday, but he could never just blatantly lie.

he can say he has gone the past few weeks without reaching out to you- which mostly speaks to both of your stubbornness and pride.

in fact, you’re part of his reason for having his own night in tonight- though it’s far less sadistic of a reason than yours. he’s simply grown bored of the repetitive night life he and his friends have.

you were always there for him to tease and secretly fuck around with whenever your friend groups would combine for the night. but as of late he’s left sitting at the bar swigging down beers and scrolling on his phone (sometimes he’d get irrationally irritated at you for not posting on your instagram or snapchat stories, feeling a as if it was a direct punishment to remove him from knowing any details about your life) or until the rest of the group throw the towel in.

on the worst and most irritating of nights he’ll take an uber home by himself. and those were the nights he would get so close to being irrational- showing up to your house and confronting you was oh so enticing. but he’d talk himself out of it and go home to fuck his fist like you’d probably tell him to do.

and on the most horny and pathetic of nights he'd end up in the backseat of his car finger-fucking erin with her tongue in his mouth. it ended at that though, matt's skin started to crawl thinking of when you rode him in the front seat not too long ago. he had pinched his eyes shut and pulled erin's hands away from his zipper, swaying her with some sweet "i just wanted to make you feel good s’all" and a kiss before she left and he awkwardly drove himself home- pondering how little self control he had to be desperate enough to do even get that far.

so, he didn’t even bother to go out tonight. when chris and nick asked him through his closed door, he told them he’ll stay in for some “peace and quiet.” really, he just couldn’t stand to be disappointed by the guaranteed lack of you being there.

he sits in his desk chair, legs spread casually, and sketchbook held against his thigh as he scribbles around to formulate a few rough outlines for upcoming clients. somewhere in the mix he begins to sketch out a familiar cartoon cat, which only irritates him and makes him close the book abruptly, shoving it into his desk’s drawer.

matt rubs his hands over his face a few times and lifts himself from the chair, heading straight for his bedside table. he bites at his lips while digging through the drawer, eventually finding the pretty red hot blunt you rolled and gifted him.

he makes his way out to the patio, not bothering to turn the outdoor lights on; blunt, lighter, and phone in tow. he slouches into one of the many chairs near the glass door and places the blunt between his lips, shuffling as he digs in his back pocket for his lighter.

the spark of the bright flame highlights his focused face for only a few seconds while he pricks the end of the misshapen yet smoothly rolled blunt. he breathes in the smoke immediately, throwing the lighter onto a table nearby. he tilts his backwards to blow out swirls of smoke above him.

matt initially wants to wait to call you until he feels high enough, mostly to give him an excuse for calling in the first place because he knows you’ll be expecting one. but he can't fucking wait, he wants to know what you're doing right now.

matt continues to effortlessly inhale and exhale several hits as he searches his phone for your contact.

his thumb hovers over the dull button that would change a lot for him. calling you means looking like a dumbass, as if he can't handle not knowing you (apparently he can’t but he wouldn’t admit to it). calling you means he’s breaking this implied break up- for complete lack of better terms.

but who’s to say you’ll even answer and give him a chance to do any of that? and suddenly his phone is vibrating in his hand as he raises it to his ear.

it takes four rings for you to answer, though you're completely silent on the other end. he waits and you wait. he truly didn’t think this far ahead. you only give him a few extra seconds to be silent before you hang up all together.

matt kisses his teeth and redials. when you eventually answer again he speaks through the smoke in his lungs, "hi. why'd you hang up?"

"matt, don't call my phone and expect me to speak to you first." your voice has a bite to it that still surprises matt a little. it's so infrequent for you to be harsh or upset (as long as matt has known you, you've been nothing but cheerful and well… sunny) that it's oddly pleasant to see how you handle negative emotions- it reminds him that you’re not always good, something he’d always weirdly envied about you.

he releases more smoke in the air around him, "my bad, sweetheart."

"just tell me why you’re calling. are you drunk or ...?"

"no. i just wanted to know what you're doing."

you sigh heavily, "why does that concern you...?"

his eyes pinch as he stares out into the dark backyard, "why're you bein' so difficult? 'm just trying t-"

"matt. get there, please." you rush, though you secretly are enjoying hearing his voice and the romanticized idea that he must care a little if he’s reaching out again.

“yeah.” he takes a breath, “i don’t know. i’m just, like, here…by myself, and i wanted to remember what you sounded like.”

you smirk to yourself but drop it immediately, “okay…well, this is what i sound like.”

“yes, so soothing, i could fall asleep right here,” you can hear him audibly stretch.

“oh, i’m putting you to sleep?” you tease.

“yeah, i need you to come over and wake me up,” he inhales once more.

you’re silent and he breathes out again, “fuck was that too much- i’m sorry.”

“definitely. i need you to calm down, sir.”

“oh i’m so calm, baby,” he moans out playfully.

“matt, i’ll hang up-”

“woah! let’s not make such rash decisions?!”

“okay then.”

“thank you for answering,” his voice is muffled, “you could’ve blocked me- i talked to you so crazy that night and i do feel bad about, i want you to know.” he pauses and you silently process as he continues to compliment you, “you’re the only woman besides, like, my mother, who is just classy as fuck and way too kind to everyone whether they deserve it or not.”

you could never have expected to hear any words of admiration from matt in regards to you. “oh my god, are you near a couple of trees right now? how’d you get so sappy all of a sudden?”

matt takes a second to register your joke before his entire face crinkles and he shakes his head, giggling, “bad joke. such a bad joke.”

you let yourself laugh a little as well before pulling together, “thank you for apologizing, i honestly didn’t expect that from you.”

“well i don’t hand them out like that so i guess you’re lucky or something.”

“i guess i am…” you smile into your words a little.

“what have you been doing?”

“like the past few weeks or right now?”

“i was talking about right now but you can say both.”

“just was checking! i don’t want to talk to much, i know you’d hate to listen to it.”

“heyyy! really? throwin’ some shit i just told you i didn’t mean right in my face like that?”

“i’m sorry i had to!”

“you were holding on to that one, huh?”

“just a little.”

“okay, tell me everything and i’ll listen.”

“i know i made it seem like i’ve been doing a lot but i’ve honestly just been working a bunch. it’s not as much of a nightmare as it sounds though- working long shifts has helped me fall asleep quicker. i’ve also started cooking a lot more whenever im bored which andrea looooves. and… um, right now i’m taking a bath.”

matt’s eyes widen and he chuckles, “dammit! i knew i should’ve facetimed instead!”

you bite your lip to hold back a laugh yourself, “what are you doing, matt?”

“guess.”

“i mean, i know you’re smoking but you could be in a random bedroom at a party or like, at some other bitch’s house…i don’t know, i’m just guessing!”

“never that,” he laughs- which you can’t decipher as a sarcastic or genuine one -and explains further, “‘m at home, outside with that perfect little blunt you made.”

“oh, for real?”

“uh huh, she’s treating me real good.”

“i’m glad. can you finish telling me how you’ve been?”

“yeah, um-”

“mattttt!” a very drunk nick suddenly yells while sliding open the glass door.

matt literally jumps and is immediately annoyed, you can hear it in his voice despite it being muffled now, “dude, you scared the shit out of me! what do you need?”

“hello to you too, ugh, i forgot you’re all moody right now. what are you even doing it’s all dark and shit?” nick hangs on the door has he peeks outside.

matt gets up to close the door again, “mind your business, nick. move, you’re in the way.”

“hmm, you are so weird.” nick squints his eyes and turns away yelling chris’ name in a blood curdling scream (for absolutely no reason besides the fact that he thought it’d be funny to see chris drunkenly run into the living room).

“hey, you still there?”

“mhm, yes”

“nick and chris just got back from the bar so i’ll have to help them chill out, um, yeah. i wanna hang out again. not even just to fuck if you aren’t cool with that yet, if we can be friends around our friends we can be friends by ourselves.”

friends? you and matt? hm. “that’d be nice, do you wanna just come over like usual?”

“i mean i could but we can do whatever you want, seems like you’ve been home a lot so, you know.” his voice gets more distracted as he speaks

“okay, i’ll let you know. good night.”

“sounds good, sweetheart.”

౨ৎ

MATT - 6:30 PM

Are you done yet?

Y/N - 6:52 PM

yes i’m coming now

-

“i’m sorry again for keeping you so late y/n, you really didn’t have to stay and help me close!” your coworker, angela, beams as she follows you out of the back door with a trash bag.

“don’t worry about it,” you smile to her as you walk with her to the large dumpster on the side of the building.

she throws a bag the size of her torso into the bin with a mumble of ‘ew’ before turning to you, “don’t say that! i know you have that date thing tonight, i don’t want you to be late.”

“i told you it’s not a date! we’re hanging out as friends.”

she rolls her eyes while putting her travel sized hand sanitizer back into her purse, “y/n don’t start with that…it’s totally a date from what you’ve told me.”

you both continue to walk towards the back parking lot,“trust me, he’s made it clear he’s not that kind of guy.”

“then why waste your time?”

right when you go to defend yourself you hear a car door shut, drawing your attention to the man of the hour, who’s locking the doors of his sleek black suv as his jaw works a minty piece of gum.

his black tee exposes his tattoos and his jean shorts are held up with his favorite black belt. you can see his light eyes are squinted due to the sun’s undying brightness from where you stand.

angela turns to you with a full smirk and softly slaps your arm, whispering and giggling, “girl, he’s hot!”

“oh my god!” you have an uncontrollable smile as you look at her, “stop it!” you look over again and this time matt is leaning against his car, ready to catch your eye and send you a wave of his fingers with his eyebrows raised.

you wave back then turn away once more, “‘kay i should probably go but i’ll see you wednesday, right?” you lean in for a hug.

“yes i’ll be here,” she smiles into the embrace as you kiss into the air to the side of her head, “you’ll have to give me all the deets!”

“mhm,” you hum as you both part ways, “bye ang!”

you approach matt without any rush and he takes the time to gaze over your complexion (far more radiant than the last time he’d seen you) and the way your mini jean skirt compliments the blushed red top you’re wearing. “hi sunny,” he grins and reaches a hand out to bring you into a hug, only for you to set the handle of your small purse in it. he kisses his teeth playfully, “it’s still like that, huh?”

“like what?” you condescendingly look up at him.

“alright, girl,” he dismisses, “where are we goin?“

“it’s a surprise for a reason matt!”

“okay… then i’m assuming you’ll drive?”

“not exactly..” you spin on your heel and walk away from him as a hint to follow you.

he wraps an arm around your shoulder as the two of you walk down the busy sidewalk, he gives a couple of glances down at your phone while also navigating the two of you. “metro?” he reads aloud.

“mhm,” you reply and smile to yourself while adding the tickets to your apple wallet.

“wow, you really planned this shit out.”

“i’ve never half-assed something in my life,” you say as you both stop at a cross walk.

“never? you have a brother, right?” he asks and you nod, “i’m sure he’d be able to come up with something.”

“probably,” you shrug and grab his wrist when the walking sign lights. “we’re gonna make it just in time, the bus comes at 7:10.”

౨ৎ

the seating on the bus is comfortably squished; you sit in the window seat and matt next to you, moving his limbs inward to give room to those walking in the isle.

you reapply a faded shade of red, black cherry to your lips while using your phone camera. matt watches with his lips pursed in awe. “that shade looks nice on you,” he says softly.

you’re already feeling giddy internally and he’s forcing you to blow your unbothered cover at this point, “thank you,” you smile and turn to see him already close to your face, looking at your eyes then lips. you just have to close the space by giving him a small kiss, mumbling, “it looks good on you too, see,” you move your phone so that he can see his lips outlined with the stain of you.

he laughs and pouts his lips while checking himself out in your camera, making the risky move to take a photo of himself, before giving your cheek a kiss.

౨ৎ

“jesus, for forty fucking minutes you better have brought me to an all inclusive resort!” matt complains while dramatically stretching his back.

the sun was now peeking down and the flashing lights of santa monica pier were extra enticing. “stop, we’re gonna have so much fun! look!” you point at the energetic strip with a childish grin.

“alright, let’s go then,” he tilts his head towards the fair.

౨ৎ

“definitely could have gone without that last ride- wayyy too many dips,” matt holds his stomach dramatically.

“i could tell, you were screamin’ like crazy,” you smirk as the two of you stand in the line at one of the many food trucks. two hours into being there and you’ve rode almost all of the rides, it was expected for matt to ask to stop for some sort of food eventually.

“barely.” he rolls his eyes, “what do you want?”

“i’ll have a water and one of those bomb pops,” you tell him.

“that’s not really food, are you gonna be good with that for right now?” he clarifies.

“yes, matt. thank you,” you smile and matt waves you off as he approaches the tall window to order.

“hey, what’s up man? i’ll just have a water, one of those fourth of july a bomb pops, medium fry and a modelo in a can please,” he flashes a smile and pays quickly.

you thank him and the cashier as you take hold of the items you asked for. “can we go walk on the beach?” you ask him.

“yeah, it’ll be dark as shit, but yeah,” he responds lightly and shoves a few fries into his mouth.

౨ৎ

“when i was younger my mom would bring me and my brother to the pier every summer since i was seven maybe?” the waves crash softly in the background as matt lays between your legs, despite the scratchy denim of your skirt. “when i was eleven my brother would want to go off with his friends in high school and my mom wasn’t a fan of the rides, so she would bring me to walk on the beach with her instead.” you recall out loud after matt had asked what made you want to come here today.

“mmm, reminds me of east coast beaches when i was a kid. we’d make a whole day out of it and pack up my mom’s minivan.” you stretch his scalp hypnotically, “just being rowdy and annoying as hell on the ride there and sleeping on the way back. being a kid is, like, the best and we never realize it when we’re there.”

“isn’t it kind of sweet that we don’t? kids don’t even understand the concept of missing childhood or being nostalgic until they’re older. if eight year old me were constantly dwelling on what’s passed i know she’d go insane. i mean, even now, everyone is always chasing previous feelings and never fully in tune with the one present.” you look out at the waves that softly build up and crash repeatedly.

matt licks his lips and opens his eyes, sitting up from your lap, “holy shit, sunny,” he kisses you and pulls away to laugh, “you just made me sound like a dumbass.”

he keeps a hold of your face, “matt you’re not dumb, everyone is nostalgic for something,” you kiss him again to seal your words.

matt pulls away and you stands up and begin to remove your shirt leaving you in a lacy bra, “come on,” you tilt your head and matt immediately stands up to cover you.

“the fuck do you mean, ‘come on’?” he starts to laugh while looking around for anyone around.

you roll your eyes at his protection and unbutton your skirt, “take a dip with me.”

“no?! y/n, that water is freezing...”

you pull down your pants to reveal a small pair of matching lacy panties that matt can barely see in the dark but he just knows would send him over the edge.

“matttt,” you pout and bring his hands to your exposed ass, lifting his chin to capture his lips in your own, “please?” you look up at him.

he pinched his eyes shut, “baby, put your clothes back on…”

“alright be lame,” you take his hands off of you and run into the empty beach with a freeing laugh.

matt stands there, not wanting to yell and draw attention to you both, but also not wanting to freeze to death.

“matt! the water’s not even that cold, come here!” you exclaim, wading in the shallow water.

“no, i’ll just wait here until you’re done cooling off…”

“matt, please! what if i-” you pretend to fall backwards and start to fake a drowning scene that has him undressing to his boxers quickly.

he ignores the rush in his blood from the surprise of the water’s temperature in favor of getting you out of there. he calls your name over and over, the pitch black look of the ocean doing absolutely nothing to help.

he’s pretty freaked out when you come back up and jump on his back yelling, “you saved me! you saved me!” with a cackle.

matt immediately groans and slaps the water, “fuck you, why would you ever do some shit like that?!”

you giggle and he throws you off his back easily, turning around to be face to face with you as you wipe your eyes, “oh my god matt, my mascara’s gonna run!”

“maybe we should think of these things before running into the ocean?”

you stop wiping underneath your eyes to forcefully push him under the water, giggling at the sound of the crash and his “don’t-!” right before.

“no more,” he spits out water and scolds you when he comes back up, inching closer to you and holding you by your hips as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“okay,” you agree and go to kiss his wet face just as he quickly unhooks you and throws you back under.

“matt!” you squeal as you resurface to hear him laughing, “dude, i’m gonna kill you.”

“truce, truce, truce!” he repeats and backs away from you.

“yeah, you better run,” you threaten.

౨ৎ

“your eyelashes are like sooo long when they’re wet,” you compliment as you stare at matt under the moon’s light.

he pulls you closer him to stop his mouth from chattering due to the cold, “i’ll give you my lash routine,” he jokes.

“i realized something when we got off the phone the other day,” you bring up, as your eyes run over each of his facial features.

“tell me,” he rolls his icy lips into his mouth.

“i never said sorry for being nasty to you on your birthday.”

matt’s eyes squint, “it’s fine, i’m not hung up on that shit. we said we’re good, right?”

“yes, but-”

“alright then,” he shrugs and squeezes your ass in reassurance.

a smile graces your face and and you let your head fall to his shoulder, whispering, “matt…i’m cold now.”

“i’ve been waiting for you to say that, oh my god!”

౨ৎ

you both suffer as you put your clothes back on over your wet skin. you’re both chattering messes and simply cannot stop laughing about it as you make your way back to the boardwalk’s strip of raging bright lights.

you don’t get far before you’re begging matt to win you an oversized faux fur leopard print coat, “it’s just what i need, please!”

and he’s spent almost two twenties replaying this stupid game over and over again. you’re a pretty good cheerleader though.

“come on matt, you got it this time! no pressure! it’s only like i’m dying of hypothermia!” he deadpans as he looks over to you, “what?”

it was a simple game of ring toss- that was most definitely rigged, but besides you reminding him this and saying you didn’t need the coat that much, the stand runner’s comments doubting matt was enough to fuel him to continue playing until he wins.

and somehow he tosses the perfect ring, watching it land and swivel around the bottle in victory. you both outwardly celebrate with screams and a very public kiss, that the two of you just can’t stop sharing today.

“congratulations,” the employee boredly says.

“thank you sir, thank you.” matt then obnoxiously turns around and yells out a speech to the random passersby “i wanna thank my mother, my grandmother, brothers, dog, and you people for giving me this opportunity to win something so grand for my sweet sunshine!” you stop giggling to give a royal wave to the many people judging the two of you, “thank you santa monica!” he blows a kiss and you both spin around to claim your prize.

“you two are like cartoon characters,” the stand runner says. and as soon as you start to grin at him he corrects, “that wasn’t a compliment.”

“whatever man, just give the pretty girl the fucking coat,” matt blinks at him. as the man walks away to grab the fluff off of the rack a few people stop by the table and matt warns them, “if i were you i’d keep walkin’, this guy’s a first-class hater.”

you drag matt by his arm back over to you, “did you take your socially-overbearing pills today?!”

“i have no clue, i think im too cold for my brain to process embarrassment anymore.”

“here’s that coat,” the man hands you it with a shake of his head.

“thank you, sir!” you exclaim and immediately fit your arms from the sleeves, “this is everything i’ve ever wanted!” you say as your jaw goes slack.

“you look good,” matt agrees, “you also look warm, so now i’m jealous.”

“let’s go get you something warm, baby.”

౨ৎ

after a trip to a random gift shop for a hoodie, matt whined about needing real food so bad.

so the two of you stand at the hostess stand in a small mexican restaurant on the strip.

“for two?”

“yes, thank you.”

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick, okay?” matt speaks close to your ear and you simply nod and watch him walk off.

you wait a few moments before the hostess offers to take you to your table, “did you want to go sit now or wait for your boyfriend?” she asks kindly.

you try not to make it so apparent that you enjoy the idea of you being matt’s girlfriend, “yeah, i can sit now, he’ll find me.”

౨ৎ

“i’ll have the chicken burrito please with extra rice,” matt orders as he sits across from you.

“and i’ll have the four birria tacos please,” you hand her the menu kindly.

you both are bundled up ridiculously with frizzy hair and barely-dry clothes, you’re surprised anyone agreed to serve you.

“alright, that should be out shortly!”

when she walks away matt asks, “why didn’t you get a drink? i’m just curious.”

“i swore off drinking until my birthday,” you shrug and fall back into the plush of the booth.

“mm, not smoking either?” he sips his water.

“i mean i haven’t smoked since early august but no i didn’t purposely stop.”

matt nods, “well if you were to drink, what are you ordering? i usually go for a corona but i wanna try something different.”

“oh strawberry margarita, a hundred percent. hits everytime.”

“i’ve never had a margarita so i’ll try it.”

your jaw drops, “hell yeah you’re gonna try it, i can’t believe you!”

“what can i say?” matt shrugs.

౨ৎ

matt plays with the toothpick in his mouth as you both sit in your spots for the bus ride home. he got to enjoy his first margarita and you took multiple pictures to document it, he bought you churros to go, and now you both are the most tired you’ve been in a while.

you quietly respond to texts that andrea sent you hours ago, asking what you’re doing and if you’ll be home soon, while matt lays his head on your shoulder sleepily.

eventually you shut your phone off and calmly rest your head against the chilled window for the rest of the ride.

•

[bunnyhugs77]

Tokyo Drift

Pairing: Street Racer! Jungkook x CEO Daughter! Reader 

Word Count: 2.1k

Content Warning: street racing, sneaking out (even though oc is 21), jungkook is secretly whipped, secret relationship, sexual themes, talks about getting a tattoo, speeding, oc wears pretty skirts, victory lap.

Other Content: size kink, manhandling, oral sex (f! receiving), just porn without plot tbh, oc has big titties, oc squirts, wall sex, strength kink, teasing, crying, fingering, sloppy makeout sesh on the hood of jungkook’s car ;) 

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

"I’m serious, Y/n. I want you staying home tonight, I don’t want you anywhere near all that reckless street racing.” Your father instructs but it was going in one ear and right out the other. 

“Daddy, they’re not reckless, they know what they’re doing--” He rolls his eyes as you tried to reason with him.

“Bullshit, Y/n. If they really knew what they were doing, putting their lives in danger just for some cash, they would have realized by now it's idiotic and pointless.” He shakes his head as he approaches your bedroom door, “Do not leave this house.” That’s the the last thing he says to you before shutting your door behind him. 

You could not believe him, you’re twenty one for god’s sake, twenty-two in a few weeks actually, he couldn’t boss you around like you were still a kid. Despite his words, you waited up like you usually did, this was not the first time you had this argument after all. 

You waited until all the house lights were turned off and you made your way down the grand staircase that posed as an inconvenience to you in the dark while you headed for the front door; assuring the alarm was silent for your escape. 

Finally free, you took a breath of fresh air as you got into your custom porsche parked right outside the house. You’re unable to deny yourself of the bubbling excitement that grew in your stomach as you got closer to the parking lot of the diner where the cars typically met up on race night. 

Your car was practically nothing compared to the others on the lot; you took note of this as you stepped through the array of cars until you found who you were looking for, leaned up against the hood of his sleek black and blue corvette. 

You failed to contain the smile that spread across your face the moment you saw him, “hey princess,” he gently cups your face in his hand, straightening his posture before leaning down to peck your lips. 

A cool night breeze flew past the both of you causing you to shiver slightly, his eyes analyzed your clothing, mini skirt and an off-the-shoulder top. His face immediately washed over in concern as he took your hand in his, loving how small and warm yours felt in his much larger one. 

“baby, it’s chilly tonight. I don’t want you to get cold.” You couldn’t believe he was real. He was always putting your needs first which is how you found yourselves in the diner’s bathroom, door locked, skirt pushed up and your ass on the edge of the sink with his hands on your hips as he kissed you deeply. 

Your hands roaming over each other’s bodies radiating with more desperation and need for one another the longer you were in each other’s presence. “j-jungkook-- your race,” you had to pull yourself back out of his hold in order to look at him straight, your hair was already a little disheveled and eyes hazy as you looked at him. 

he takes a look at his watch, a mischievous smile spreading across his red and abused lips, “we’ve got 15 minutes,” he clarifies which still doesn’t have you convinced, “but that’s not--” if only you knew what you were getting yourself into with those words. 

“I can make you cum in forty-five seconds if i wanted to. we have time.” his voice so brash and deep as if it was a growl as he worked at raising your top over your bra before pulling the latter down to let your full tits spill over, 00revealing themselves to him. 

a strangled groan was caught in the back of his throat before he began marking your chest, lips puckering around the buds of your nipples as his tongue lapped over them, sending chills down your spine.

“mmm, feels so good,” you moaned your legs spreading to make more room for him as your hands crawled their way to his hair, tightening their grip as he nipped lightly at your sensitive buds. “you’re so fucking stunning, you know that?” he hums as he kissed down your abdomen where he made sure to leave a trail of hickeys behind. 

he slowly crouched lower to his knees, the sink being the perfect height for his intentions with you. You helped to raise your hips making it easier for him to pull down the soaked fabric of your underwear down your legs. another shiver running down your spine as you watched him pocket them.

“so so pretty, hmm-- my pretty girl.” the vibration of his voice against your bare and exposed cunt sent your legs flying shut to which he kept pried open with one hand. 

“keep your fucking legs open or I won’t let you cum.” the thought of not being able to release the burning heat that built within your core shook you to the bone. you shook your head fearfully, that being the last thing you wanted but you couldn’t seem to move at the sensation of his wet, warm tongue working against you. “i’ll be good, p-promise,”

“i know you’ll be good, you’re always such a good girl for me,” he coos before continuing his sinful attack on your pussy with his mouth. your vocabulary was failing you as you his tongue flicked over your bud, lapping up at your folds, he was so fucking filthy with his tongue it had your eyes rolling back.

 Your eyes tightened in his hair eliciting a deep groan to erupt from him which felt like it was bouncing off the walls of your cunt. “fuck- jungkook-” 

“feels so good,” you say breathlessly, feeling as though he was eating you out within an inch of your life. he chuckled darkly, looking up only to be met with the sight of your head hanging back, with one hand in his hair and the other gripping the edge of the sink for dear life. 

the feeling of his tongue prodding at your entrance had your legs shaking, welcoming an indescribable feeling to consume you before you could even identify it, “s-stop stop-- gonna” you weren’t the only one caught off guard by your orgasm, you’re sure jungkook would’ve liked more time to prepare before you squirted on his face. 

He pulls away from you slowly, not breaking the eye contact he had with your sopping cunt. “holy shit, y/n. did you just--” your face was red in embarrassment, “i’m sorry--” before your apology could even fully leave your lips jungkook had risen to his feet, manhandling to get you off the sink and against the nearest wall. 

you’ve never seen this look before, as if he wanted to consume you whole. “don’t fucking apologize. that was so hot-- shit, do you feel what you do to me?” With one hand holding your leg up by his waist he used his other to guide your free hand to feel his rock hard cock from beneath his jeans. 

your face returned to its previous shade of red. he checked his watch, he was running out of time but he would much rather be balls deep in you than speeding down the street. 

“does your daddy know you’re out here at this time, princess?” he was teasing you, he knows how much your father hates you coming to his races but something about you breaking the rules to support him just makes him strive to see you fucked out all the more. 

the second your mouth opened to respond you feel two fingers plunge into you knowing you were more than wet enough to take it, “hmm? what was that? I didn’t quite catch that?” He laughs wickedly, seeing those familiar tears pool in your eyes, the same ones that drove him insane. “n-no, he doesn’t know-- ah.” you yell at the stretch of his third finger joining the other two. 

“such a bad girl i have here, how disobedient of you.” his teasing was only adding to heat that was burning inside you, bringing you closer and closer to your high before it was ripped away from you along with his fingers.

you whined loudly in protest, “you didn’t think i wasn’t going to fuck you, did you?” he questions you, letting you down for just a moment to pull his jeans down along with his boxers, letting his cock stand tall and proud as it his toned abdomen after he discarded his shirt. 

you watched with a hungry gaze as he pumped himself a few times, sucking in a sharp breath between his teeth before lining himself up with your soaked cunt.  he didn’t have the time to tease but he wished he did. ‘next time’  he thinks to himself. 

it’s a breathtaking stroke, quite literally as it seems to have sucked the air from both of your lungs the moment he bottoms out. your nails leaving intricate details on his back, sure to leave slight welts by tomorrow morning. “fuck y/n, this pussy is a dream.” he groans, his pace picking up significantly, hips jackhammering against you as he holds you up against the wall with both hands under your thighs, gripping them tight enough to leave bruises. 

Sometimes when you don’t get the chance to see each other what really gets him off is the thought of you tattooing his name onto your inner thigh. subconsciously gripping them tighter at the idea. For you, it was thinking about how big and strong he was, the way he could hold you in this position for hours with absolutely no struggle, the thought alone made you clench around him.

“jungkook! slow down,” your words sounded more of a question than an order making him laugh as he knows you’re already feeling a little sensitive after your previous orgasm, “yeah? that’s what you want? want me to move like this?” he slows down, rolling his hips to the pace that it was slow but deep. 

initially he only did it thinking it would piss you off but the way it made you spasm around his length made him reconsider the pace until he remembered how little time he had. leaving you winded as he suddenly resumed his inhumane pace, your tits bouncing like the girls in his wildly explicit animes. 

“j-jungkook, i’m gonna--” in the end it was jungkook’s vocality that brought you to the edge and pushed you over, this time somehow feeling even more powerful than the first with the added sensitivity leaving you screaming.

with your hair all over the place, tits out, and wet cheeks jungkook couldn’t hold himself back from blowing his load, “shit shit shit,” a string of profanities slip past his lips as he reaches his high before coating your velvet walls with his hot cum.

your foreheads rest against each other for just a moment as you catch your breath, coming down from your highs with a few small kisses here and there until reality settles in that jungkook has no more than 2 minutes to get to the starting line.

the two of you had never moved with such speed, you did your best with your slightly altered walk credit to jungkook’s energetic thrusts to your poor pussy.

he made it in the knick of time, you watched from the sidelines in the large crowd as jungkook and his competitor drove up to the line until they were side by side.

there was a girl who stood in the middle of the two cars with her hands high in the air, by the time she brought them back down the two cars had completely vanished, speeding down the strip far out of view.

It was no more than 5 minutes before the high maintenance vehicles came racing back into view, it looked almost as if it was a tie but anyone could see jungkook had crossed the line mere milliseconds before. the cheers roared to fill the street, the people behind you celebrated loudly, music suddenly beginning to play from speakers that others had brought. 

Just as jungkook pulled into the parking lot once again you hardly gave him enough time to park before running towards the vehicle, he stepped out, picking you up from the back of your thighs, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as he spun you around. 

“Congratulations!” you cheered, letting out a small puff of air as you felt him place you on the warm hood of his car, his large hands snaking back down around your waist as he kissed you passionately. It was all adrenaline and tongue, your hands swinging over his shoulders while he deepened the kiss before he pulled away.

“wanna go for a victory lap? let me take you for a ride.” he grins. 

[sodaabaa]

to flee or not to flee, part five

anthony bridgerton x OC what happens when a charming and determined viscount courts someone whose worst fear is to marry a man like him?

tropes: damsel in distress, innocent and shy mc, slow burn

tw: mentions of domestic abuse, angst, anxiety, slight misogyny/patriarchal concepts, nsfw (wedding night scene), mentions of scars and past abuse.

masterlist

see playlist for the story here!

The rest of the week was a blur after Annalise had accepted the viscount’s proposal. She could barely keep up with Lady Bridgerton and Daphne and the speed with which they planned the wedding. They’d travel back to Mayfair tomorrow to prepare for the wedding which was set to take place on the Friday of the upcoming week. Invites had been sent the morning after the viscount – Anthony, he’d insisted Annalise call him – announced the news. Lady Bridgerton nearly fainted in excitement, simply ecstatic that her eldest son was finally set to marry. She and Daphne immediately snatched Annalise away from the rest of the family, questioning her on all her favorite things to ensure the wedding would be to her taste. 

Annalise lay in bed that night, relieved to finally have a moment to herself. Once the wedding plans were set, Thomas hadn’t said a word to Annalise. She supposed she should have expected it, Annalise was nothing but a burden to Thomas from the moment their parents died – she was another man’s burden now. Still, her brother’s neglect hurt, her eyes stinging with tears as she thought about how utterly alone she was. No mother to hold her, explain to her what she should expect of married life. No father to give her away with a kiss on her forehead. 

A gentle knock on the door pulled Annalise out of her thoughts. She sat up, wiping away the tears with the backs of her hands. 

“Come in,” she said, her voice hoarse.

It was Anthony who opened the door, peering inside with a smile.

“I’m not interrupting am I?” 

Annalise sniffled, “No, not at all Lor-” Anthony narrowed his eyes at her. 

“Anthony,” the name felt foreign on her tongue. 

He smiled, walked towards her, and took a seat next to her. When he noticed the red around her nose and puffy eyes, his smile fell, replaced with furrowed brows.

“What’s wrong?” He said his hand on the small of her back. She shivered at the touch. 

She inhaled, “Nothing, I suppose I’m just nervous is all.” 

He tilted his head, not entirely convinced with her answer. 

“Your brother hasn’t spoken with you all week” he deduced, seeing right through Annalise.

Her eyes fell to the floor. 

“Annalise,” He lifted her chin with a single finger, “let me tell you a little secret” He smiled.

“One of the perks of becoming a Bridgerton is that you now have three annoying, meddlesome but loving brothers at your disposal. Benedict has already grown quite fond of you. They’re all glad that you’re to join our family," he continued. 

She couldn’t hold back the tears that fell from her eyes, eliciting a hushing coo from Anthony who wiped away the tears as they fell. When that didn’t stop her tears, he pulled her into his chest protectively. She sank into his embrace, shoulders shaking, now full-on sobbing. He only held her, fingers raking through her hair, until she calmed.

She pulled away, “My apologies, I didn't mean to be a burden – and oh!" She sighed, "I ruined your coat,” tears welled in her eyes again, looking down at the wet patch on his lapels, emitting a soft laugh from the man before her.

“Annalise,” he waited until she looked up at him again before continuing, “you are no burden, you are to be my wife and I intend to make you a happy one at that” he touched his forehead to hers, his hands held her face. After she’d calmed again, he brought her forehead to his lips, pressing a soft kiss. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

They returned to Mayfair the next day, Annalise found herself already missing the country air. She sat in the drawing room, waiting for her brother – the butler had sent for her, informing her that Thomas needed to speak with her. The doors opened and he walked in, Annalise rose but he waved a hand motioning for her to remain seated. He took a seat in front of her after grabbing a glass and filling it with a drink.

He cleared his throat, “Annalise. I’m not entirely sure how you managed to catch the eye of the viscount but no matter, now that you are set to marry you must know your duty is to produce an heir as soon as you can to secure your position as viscountess” he said, not a hint of warmth in his voice – only cold, distant calculation. 

Annalise was taken aback. It’d been nearly two weeks since he’d spoken to her and this was the first thing he said? 

“Do you understand?” He barked, impatient.

She nodded, unable to gather the proper words to voice what she wanted to say to him.

He clapped his hands, “Well, congratulations then.” With that, he rose, leaving just as quickly as he’d arrived.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Anthony watched Annalise stare out the carriage her fingers fiddling absentmindedly with the beads of her bodice. He wished there was something he could say that’d rid her of all her worries and fears. If only it were as easy as saying a few words. He learned quite early on that Annalise did not believe in words, throughout their week at Aubrey Hall before the wedding, he tried his absolute hardest to get her to see that he meant no harm. To his surprise, it worked, even if it was only a little. She no longer stiffened at his touch or avoided his gaze. He’d have to be patient and Anthony was content with that. As long as Annalise felt safe, he’d wait an eternity if need be. 

He could see Aubrey Hall in the distance. Annalise turned to him, brows furrowed and lips parted. She wanted to say something but he could see her hesitance.

“Yes?” He encouraged her.

“Why did you pardon Thomas from providing a dowry?”

Ah. “I think it’s quite clear I am in no need of one.”

She wasn’t satisfied, “then why did you provide payment to Thomas?”

Anthony sighed, “I did what I had to do to ensure your brother would not be a hindrance to my proposal.”

He hoped this would be enough for her. She was already heartbroken by her brother’s behavior during the past week, he did not want to add to that heartbreak by telling her of her brother's plans to marry her off to another man who'd promised payment.

She turned away, satisfied enough for now he assumed. The entire ride she’d been silent and now that he’d heard her voice, he yearned for more.

“What did my family say about me when you were conducting your interrogations of them? I’d wager they voiced some disdain?” He asked.

“They had some grievances,” she said with a teasing smile on her face. God, he’d do anything to see more of the smile that brought him to his knees.

“But rest assured, your sisters adore you. And your brothers admire you very much. You raised them well.” 

His brows rose in surprise. He’d half expected her time with his siblings to deter her from his proposal and point out every little flaw Anthony possessed. The carriage stopped, signaling their arrival. Anthony stepped out of the carriage first, offering a hand to Annalise after.

“Welcome home, Lady Bridgerton,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand – eliciting yet another timid smile from his wife as she took in the view before her. Anthony gazed at the woman before him, she was entirely unaware of the way she made his heart swell. No matter, she’ll find out soon enough. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Night had fallen, and the stars glistened in the sky as Annalise gazed up at the sky from her seat at the windowsill. Much of the afternoon was spent with the maids, setting up her belongings in the master bedroom while Anthony left to tend to some business as viscount. She looked around, pastel blue and gold peppered the room, and her eyes fell to the bed – her stomach fluttered. Violet paid her a visit before the wedding, she’d wanted to explain the matters of the wedding night to her. Though she was vague, Annalise understood the basics of what she’d meant to say and it caused knots in her stomach every time she remembered the duty she must fulfill. She repeatedly reminded herself that Anthony had been nothing but gentle and patient with her, that it would be alright but it was no use. She couldn’t quell the anxiety rising to the surface. 

As if on cue, the doorknob turned and Anthony entered. Like that night in the library, he’d abandoned his coat and vest. Dressed only in a shirt and trousers, sleeves rolled up and hair disheveled. He looked divine. She found it difficult to look away, caught in a daze as he approached her. A hand snaked up the side of her neck, finding the nape and pulling her in for a kiss. 

Oh. 

Butterflies swarmed her stomach, feeling lightheaded as he kissed her. 

“Hello wife,” he murmured against her lips, lips curved into a smile.

She looked up at him, cheeks heating up. When she didn’t respond, he bent down, arms wrapped around her lower body as he lifted her and moved them over to the bed. 

“Anthony!” She squealed in surprise, a laugh escaping her.

He placed her on the bed, she rested up on her elbows but before she could speak any further, he knocked her arms down causing her to fall back onto the plush pillows underneath. She giggled, trying to swat his hands away to no avail, he wrapped his hands around the backs of her knees, yanking her towards him at the edge of the bed. She stared up at him, mouth agape at his impatience. 

“You,” he leaned down, “are,” his lips trailed her jaw, pausing for a moment before continuing. He kissed gently at a sensitive spot underneath her jaw, moving down to her neck leaving a burning path of kisses. His breath tickled her skin. She shuddered.

“Exquisite,” he finished. He returned to her face, lips meeting hers in a feverish kiss while his hands trailed up her arms, leaving goosebumps all over her skin. He pulled at the front of her robe, eager to be rid of the fabric boundary between them. She stirred, breaking the kiss. Her hands shot down to his. 

“Wait!” She exclaimed, breathless from the kiss. 

He looked down at her in confusion but halted his advances. She dragged herself up, making room for her to sit up on the bed. Her hair fell over her shoulders, grateful for the extra cover they provided her. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly self-conscious and afraid of what he’d think of her imperfections. He sat in front of her, the bed shifted with his weight. 

“What is it? Are you afraid? We can wait, if you’d like,” he reassured, he reached for her hands. 

Their hands intertwined, he brought one of hers up to his lips and placed a kiss into her palm.

“No - it’s just that,” she hesitated, at a loss for words.

“Annalise, whatever it is you can tell me,” he whispered, eyes searching her face.

She inhaled, bracing herself.

“I’m afraid you’ll find me unpleasing,” she admitted, looking away from him.

He instantly took her face in his hands, forcing her attention back to him. 

“You are bewitching, Annalise. There’s not a woman in the world who can compare to your beauty. Look at me,” he commanded, eyes dark with desire.

She held his gaze, “I have scars.” 

Pain flashed across his face at her confession. His eyes searched her face, brow set in determination.

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

She only nodded.

“I need you to say it, Annalise,” eyes narrowing to emphasize his point.

“I trust you,” she whispered.

His hands made their way back to her waist, at the front of her robe where he held them for a moment. He looked at her once again, waiting for her confirmation. She nodded. He wasted no time in undoing the robe, letting it slip off her shoulders. She shivered at the sudden rush of air against her bare skin. He moved her hair out of the way and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

“Turn around.”

She obeyed, turning towards the pillows and away from the man who was driving her crazy with need.

He gently guided her down to the bed, laying her on her stomach. Her bare back faced him and she wiggled as his hands traced down her spine. Her eyes fluttered shut as she steadied her breathing. She felt him lean down, he started kissing across her shoulders, down her spine until he reached the bottom of her torso. A tear slipped from her eyes when she realized what he was doing. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Anthony winced when he saw the scars peppering his wife’s fair skin. She was so delicate. He couldn’t imagine the horrors she’d been through which led to the marks across her skin. Some were long, some were short, some were circles – cigar burns he realized. His vision turned red, rage filling his chest. He inhaled deeply. Thomas would pay for his abuse. But right now, his wife needed him. He pushed away thoughts of revenge as he laid kisses on Annalise’s back. He felt her shudder with each kiss as he made his way down her back, taking great care to place a kiss on each and every scar, he intended to make her forget about the pain she’d endured all these years.

Once he’d finished peppering her back with kisses, he turned her around to face him. Her eyes were teary but she smiled, leaning up from the pillow to kiss him. Her hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. His own hands trailed down to her waist, pulling her into an embrace. He needed to be closer, closer. He pulled away, eliciting a whine from the beautiful girl beneath him.

“Oh, just a moment you minx,” he teased.

He lifted his shirt over his head and undid his trousers. Annalise’s eyes widened at the sight of his bare chest. 

“Annalise,” he bent down to kiss her once more, “this may hurt. If, at any moment you feel discomfort, please tell me and I will stop at once” he held her gaze to emphasize his point. 

“I promise,” she nodded.

“Good girl,” he praised, placing a kiss on her forehead. A blush spread across her cheeks. He wanted to devour her when she blushed like that.

He prepared himself, positioning himself against her. She wiggled nervously, looking up at him in anticipation. He pushed forward, sinking into absolute bliss. He kept himself from groaning as he scanned Annalise’s face for signs of discomfort. Her face scrunched at the sudden invasion but she let out a moan and he lost all restraint. He pushed forward again, watching her carefully. He caught her lips in a burning kiss as they continued. Anthony hadn’t known pleasure like this despite all the women he’d been with in the past. He could spend the rest of his life sinking deeper into the magnificent woman before him and it still wouldn’t be enough for him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Annalise spent the next few weeks learning to be a viscountess and visiting the townspeople who lived under Anthony’s jurisdiction. She spent the days managing the day to day affairs of their estate while the nights were reserved for her husband and his endless doting of her. She fell deeper and deeper in love with him as the days passed. She'd almost forgotten about her past until a reminder came knocking on her door.

“My lady, there’s a visitor here to see you.” She made her way to the door, curious as to who could possibly be visiting her. She stopped in her tracks when she saw her brother standing at the doorway, waiting for an invitation to come in. 

“Thomas,” she said in surprise.

“Hello, sister. May I come in?” She nodded, turning away from the door to lead him towards the drawing room. Unsure of what to say, she asked, “what brings you here, brother?” 

“I’ve just come to check on you, dear sister. How has married life been treating you?” 

She looked at him in suspicion, “it’s been well, thank you.” 

He looked at her expectantly, “And?” 

“I’m not sure what more there is to say, brother.” 

“It has been weeks since you’ve been married. Are you not with child yet, girl?” He said, his patience wearing thin.

She gaped at her brother, unsure of how to respond. As if by some miracle, she heard familiar footsteps coming in from the foyer. She sighed, grateful for the return of her husband. Anthony walked in, attention on removing his gloves when he looked up and staggered.

“Mr. Carrington?” 

Thomas rose from his seat, “Lord Bridgerton. How good it is to see you again.” 

Anthony nodded, lips set in a tight smile. 

“What brings you here, is everything alright?” He questioned, taking a seat next Annalise and resting a protective hand on her thigh.

“I came to check on my sister, Lord Bridgerton. I’d hoped to hear the happy news of becoming an uncle but alas, that is not the case. Perhaps, Annalise is not taking her role seriously” he said pointedly, looking at Annalise with disdain.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Carrington?” Anthony spat.

“I only mean to say Annalise requires a firm hand if she is to-”

Anthony held up his hand, stopping Thomas before he could finish. 

“You come into my home to insult my wife?” His voice hardened.

Thomas chuckled nervously, “she is my sister, Bridgerton.”

“Lord Bridgerton. She is no longer your concern, Mr. Carrington,” he said, every word dripping with anger as he stared Thomas down in disgust.

Thomas opened his mouth to defend himself but Anthony rose from his seat and crossed the room. He grabbed Thomas by the lapels. Annalise stood, afraid of Anthony’s sudden outburst.

“Has Annalise said something to you? She is a foolish girl, always looking for someone else to blame,” Thomas spit out.

“You are a pathetic excuse for a man, I’m ashamed to even be in the same room as you. Get the bloody hell out of my house before I decide to do to you what you did to that little girl who was under your care!” His voice bounced off the walls, Annalise flinched. She watched in awe as Anthony defended her. Finally, he let go of her brother, shoving him forward as he did. Without saying anything else, Thomas straightened his jacket and left. 

Anthony sighed, running a hand through his hair before turning back to Annalise. He walked towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist, when he saw the tears welled up in her eyes, he pulled her into his chest.

“Are you alright?” He mumbled into her hair.

She nodded, pulling back. She sniffled once, composing herself enough to give him a reassuring smile that said she was okay.

“Thank you,” she said. He leaned down to kiss her in response and when he pulled away, Annalise sighed, resting her head against her husband’s chest, grateful that she had not fled her fate. 

[no-fate-but-what-we-make]

Behind Closed Doors | Fezco

Description: you’re with Fezco in bed when Rue shows up and bangs on his door. Set in Euphoria season 1, episode 3

Pairing: Fezco x Female!Reader

A/N: The moment I first saw this scene, I knew I wanted to write something with it, but I never got around to it until now. Gif isn't mine - all credit to the creator. Enjoy xo

Warnings: drug mentions, addiction

- - -

The sound of a fist banging on the door to Fezco’s house shook you out of your nap. “Mm, what is it, Fez?” You asked, still sleepy, stretching and turning over to face him.

“I don’t know.” Fez sighed, pulling you into him for a quick kiss. “Maybe they’ll go away if we wait long enough.”

The incessant banging continued and after a few more seconds, your boyfriend let out an annoyed grunt and shifted to get out of bed. You watched, a lazy smile on your face as he grabbed his shirt from the floor and threw it on. “Be right back.”

You didn’t necessarily try to hear, but the walls in the house could be thin so it wasn’t hard to eavesdrop on conversations. 

“Who is it?” You heard Fezco ask as he walked into the living room. The door squeaked as he opened it, and you could only imagine who was on the other side. One of his clients, no doubt. “Not today, Rue. Sorry.”

Rue. Your chest constricted at hearing the younger girl’s name. You’d seen her around school before you’d graduated, and had met her a couple times since whenever she showed up asking for drugs. From the rumors, her drug habit was one of the worst out of all of Fezco’s clients, and that was seriously saying something.

“C’mon man, don’t be a dick.” The window was open, a fact you hadn’t realized until now, and you could hear the hurt in her strung-out voice.

“Nah, I’m serious. You can’t come in.”

You and Fezco had just been talking about how he wanted to set firmer boundaries with his clients and you knew this was going to be one of the hardest. He saw Rue like a little sister, and always took special care when it came to her - any other girl would be jealous of the relationship, but you saw it for what it was: guilt mixed with some fucked up version of platonic love. When the news broke that Rue had been carted off to rehab after a very nasty OD where she almost died, Fezco had been inconsolable for almost a week. Ashtray had done a majority of the deals that week and you still weren’t sure what he’d told the buyers.

“Look, man, all I- all I need is just a few OCs-”

“Sorry, I can’t help you.”

“Fez? Fez? I’ve had a really fucked up day, alright? It’s been a really really fucked up day, so I need you to open the door for me, okay? Can you open the door, please?” The desperation in her voice had tears pricking the back of your eyes. You knew that tone of voice well, memory taking you back to your dead, alcoholic mother when she’d beg you to go buy booze with the fake she’d had made for you specifically for that purpose. Addiction was a hell of a drug.

“I ain’t gon’ help you kill yourself, Rue.” His silence was deafening. “I’m sorry but you can’t be comin’ over here no more. Just go home.”

“Don’t! Fez, don’t close the-” you heard the click of the door. “Fuck! Fez-” Rue banged her fist against the storm door, “open the fucking door, please? I’m begging you, just open the door.” In a flash, you were off your feet and heading down to the front door. When you got there, all you could see was his back, his forehead resting on the now-closed door. You wasted no time, coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek in-between his shoulder blades as you held him tight. He took a shuddering inhale, bracing himself for Rue’s next words.

“Fez! You’re full of shit, man. You know you make your living off of selling drugs to teenagers, and now all of a sudden you wanna have a fucking moral high ground?! You’re a fucking dropout drug dealer. You know that? You’re a fucking dropout drug dealer with seven functioning fucking brain cells. OPEN THE DOOR! Fuck you! Fuck you Fez okay? Are you doing this because you care about me ? If you gave a shit about me you wouldn’t have sold me the fucking drugs in the first place but you did! You fucking did so open the goddamn door! Open the door!”

During Rue’s rant, Fez had turned around, his eyes meeting yours in one of the most tortured expressions you’d ever seen on his face. You hugged him again, your arms winding around his neck as you let him bury his face in the crook of your neck. 

“I can’t do it-” He whispered against your skin, and you couldn’t fathom how Rue had heard him, but she responded like she had.

“Open the door, open the door, open the door!” The silence was heartbreaking, but you were currently torn between comforting Fez and fighting Rue for what she’d said to him even though you knew it was no use when an addict was like this. “Open the door. You did this to me! You fucking- you did this to me, Fez. You fucking ruined my life. The least you could do is open the goddamn door! I’m so serious I’m so fucking serious. If you don’t open this door right now I swear to god, I will hate you til the day I fucking die.”

“I’m sorry.”

She let out a heart-wrenching wail and smacked her fists against the storm door. “You fucking did this to me! Open the door! Open the door, Fez! C’mon man…”

Wordlessly, you took Fez’s hand and led him back to the bedroom, the sound of Rue banging on the door for far too long until she tired herself out and left.

The two of you had laid in silence and you waited without expectation until he began to speak. “I just…don’t know how to help her, ya know?” Fez murmured, staring up at the ceiling. 

“She’s an addict, Fez. And you’re a dealer. You can’t control what she does and you have to let her fail on her own. It sucks but there’s only so much you can do.”

“I know.” He sighed, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple. “Thank you for being here.” After a while, Fez finally fell asleep in your arms, his breathing finally evening out after an exhausting encounter. You tucked him into bed, curling up into his side as you tried to get some sleep of your own.

[lilacjk]

𝗡𝗘𝗖𝗞 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

genre: yandere, best friend to lover, jungkook is a hotty, angst

warning: oc is sad and lonely

Summary : He loves bieng my friend, but he has girlfriend who he loves ....could this possibly change him from your close friend to a distant person.. And will that be able to change his habit of kissing your neck to seek comfort

A/n : I am just too nervous for part too... I changed oc from y/n to nari.But I hope you all like it please share your reviews on it

------------------☆♡☆☆♡---------------

𝙋𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨:-

********************

It's been two weeks, he is still being cold. Now not even bothering to replying to her messages, not even her calls . She called him three times yesterday, two times today. And what did he do? Just shooed her away sending a quick " Busy rn call you later " but never calls

Nari scoffed felling tears dwelly up. Just sitting there on her bed for past 5 hour seeing her twelve years of friendship dying. And could do nothing. She wanted to meet him ask and ask why is he doing this to her, shout at him, nuzzle her face in his neck and cry until he gives the answer but she could not do it she felt defeated.

She messaged him that she wanted to hang out 'he said he is busy' . She asked him if she can come over and have some time together 'he said please not now' . He is just avoiding nari, it's more than evident.

Yuna , a good and close friend ( not more close than jungkook) who met nari met through jungkook himself. Even said that why were you running after someone who is not even willing to make things clear or even pushing you alway. Why can't you let things be.

She can not, she did'nt knew how to. From when she was nine and he was eleven , she have been with jungkook, they both have done everything together. She perfectly knew how to live with jungkook by her side but without him. She felt lost .

Every day seemed like months, she cried cried. Two weeks turned into three and still no word from him. He knew she that how shattered and broken this all was making her but he was keeping his quite.

---------------__-----------__-----------

I knew there was a part of me that was selfish. I was being petty by hating and blaming Aeri. But would it be understood if I said that i loved him since the first day we met he was different from others. Always caring genuine, kind , good looking and most of all my best friend. I never wanted him to know this because I never wanted to lose him I was happy having him by my side as a friend.. Even if I knew he would leave me one day Or another.

I'm starting to wonder if this is really what being in love is. Being okay with ripping yourself to shreds, so the other person can stay whole.

I was always afraid the poison love would make me a monster, but what if trying to get rid of it makes me more of a monster than I was before., monster for loving my own best friend

But how could I stop falling for him. He was the only person who ever made me feel like I was the one worth protecting.

__________________________________

I have decided enough is enough , I will go to his place. This all is making me crazy. But this time I will go without telling him. So he won't have a reason to deny.

..

So here I am in front of his door ready . Ringing the bell sand waiting for him to open .

"Nari " he says with shocked expression, of course he did not expected me to be here. "Kook, hey" you say seeing him getting confused " Hi , why are you here".

You scoff "Of course I m here to talk but could you let me in ". He moves aside and you enter his visibily tidy and spacious apartment. That's one thing about jungkook you love the most that he loves to be clean arranged and tidy.

"You are avoiding me " You say with visibly tensed expressions."No I am not". " Yes you are, u are not replying to my messages , not picking my calls, and not even hanging out with me". You saying trying hard not to cry. "I not avoiding or ignoring you, it's just this month have been a busy one" He say nonchalantly.

"It's not the first time you were busy kook, there have been times when you were but you never ignored me then, and its much more than evident that there is something bothering you" Now you were crying. You don't know how to stop the tears , you feeling you are not able to breath, the pain in your heart and mind is now getting to much.

"No it's nothing nari , you are just making it a big issue".

"Is it something I did, or something I said " You say not being able to stop the tears "not everything in my life is about you nari". He knows his word are doing nothing but making you hurt more. His heart clenches seeing you cry, if the circumstances where different he would have kissed your tears away. But not know, no matter how much it hurts him seeing you so broken that to because of him , he can not hold you.

"I am just busy nari, we are not kids anymore, we have a lot of responsibilities now, I have more people in my life not just you, I can not be with you everytime or talk to you everytime. You are being a problem now ".

"Oh so I am a problem, and you want to get rid of me don't you ". Crack evident in your voice, you were now breathing heavily.

"Nari you making it a big deal, I didn't meant that "

"You know na kook, how much I hate fighting with you, you know how much this all is hurting me and still you are fooling me with your words .why? Why kook?. "

"Nari I think you should go it's getting dark . I need to go somewhere "

You knew there was no use of stretching this conversation now. He has just cut you off his life. You mind was clouded with all the emotions you were felling. You were shaking, it was getting hard every second to breath.

Jungkook noticed your state and held your hand. "Nari, you are shaking, talk to me ,you are fine ? ". You were just standing not able to speak. You yanked his hand away and started moving towards the main door

You held the door knob .and looked over your shoulder to see him him still standing there with some unrecognizable emotions in his eyes. “You're still wearing your bracelet ,It reminds me of a relationship that I don't want to lose. Kook" You said, more like pleaded. It was the bracelet you gifted him when you were eleven and you both promised to each other you will not leave each no matter what. He never removed that bracelet. And you wish he never do in future too.

Jungkook pov :

I felt as if someone is snatching my life from me. I wanted to hold her in my arms , tell her all the truth, calm her.

" Nari " She turned.

I moved towards her, and I don't what took over me and I wrapped my hands around her waist and my lips were met with the soft skin of her neck. This was not knew to us but kissing her neck knowing this would be the last time. I wanted to just do it forever. But this time she didn't moved her head back to give me more space instead she moved away from me. Hurt was in her eyes and I realized how much I fucked up.

Shooing her away one second and kissing her neck the other second. Kissing her neck was something i always did to show her affection and also to calm myself but doing it right now was not a great move it must have felt as if I was using her to calm my nerves as I always did.

She left as soon as she could, without even sparing me a last glance. Why would she, when I was the only one who was being an asshole and wanted her to leave ..

She is worth nothing less than stardust, but all I can give her is dirt..

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩3-:

Tagelist -:

@heyitsmehaneul ,@xonga

@theblueslytherin , @drqvn

@jjeonjjk7 , @hskahvd5 , @chaconnelatte , @talyaaas-blog

@ane102 , @hobabobas @kochycooky

Sorry if I missed someone out.. Tell me if so

[roosterforme]

The Curveball Part 13 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Molly didn't think life with Bob could get any better. Then their son arrives, and she's proven wrong yet again. She doesn't know what the future holds, but she knows that she wants her family with her for every adventure. And that starts with a trip down a grassy path through some wildflowers.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, swears, pregnancy, smut, 18+

Length: 3900 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story accompanies Batting Practice!)

Check my masterlist for more! The Curveball masterlist

Thank you to @mak-32 and @teacupsandtopgun for the beautiful banners!

With the number of times Bob had to field the question, "So how did you and Molly get engaged?" you would have thought he could answer it by now without blushing. But he couldn't. Not even close. 

The only ones who knew what really happened were Nat, Bradley and Molly's sister. Nat kept calling Molly 'a goddamn legend'. Bradley cringed. And Molly's sister just said, "Yeah, that tracks."

But Molly kept those pretty Mrs. Floyd nipple piercings in for him, and he loved her even more for it. Her belly had gotten so big by Valentine's Day, he didn't know how she'd make it all the way to her due date in another four weeks. She looked absolutely exhausted after every shift in the emergency room, and more often than not, she ended up falling asleep on the couch with him after dinner while they watched a murder documentary. 

"Mo," he whispered on Friday night after she fell asleep mostly on top of him on the couch, his big hand splayed over her belly. His son was squirming a bit as he stroked her soft skin. She was incredible. His Molly. They hadn't decided exactly when they were going to get married, but she kept talking about wildflower meadows. So he agreed to wait until the summer, after the baby was born. 

He had to whisper her name a few times before she jolted awake. "Hmm?" she moaned. "Bobby, I was in the middle of a delicious nap." He kissed her lips when she pouted at him. 

"Let's get in bed, Honey," he said softly, pulling her shirt down over her belly. "We have to babysit Ev tomorrow so your sister and Bradley can go out for Valentine's Day."

She smirked at him. "They like to do dirty shit in the Bronco."

Bob just shrugged. "We do dirty stuff in my truck all the time."

She moaned softly as she said, "We sure do, Lieutenant Floyd." Bob's eyes slowly closed as Molly's hand skimmed down his abs and into the waistband on his underwear. "Dirty stuff everywhere. Anything my fiancé wants."

Bob grunted as her small hand wrapped around his cock, and her lips grazed his stubbled jaw. He was getting harder as she stroked him slowly, tongue darting out to taste his neck. "Molly," he moaned, bucking up into her hand as she teased his tip. But she just hummed against him as she jerked him off. And then her hand slowly came to a stop until she was just softly cupping his balls.

And then he heard her soft, even breathing next to his ear, and Bob couldn't help but laugh. She actually fell asleep while she was giving him a handjob. Bob thought for a moment that maybe a less secure man would be insulted, and maybe that's what Molly was used to in the past, but he knew she was beyond tired right now. 

He kissed her forehead and gently eased her hand back out from his underwear. "It's bedtime," he whispered, and she jolted awake again.

"No," she said, shaking her head and trying to reach for his cock. 

"Yes," he replied with a chuckle as he slid out from under her without being too rough with her bump. "Come on, and I'll rub your back until you fall asleep in bed."

"Mmkay," she agreed, bleary eyed as Bob led her to their bedroom. He helped her get undressed, kneeling in front of her and placing some gentle kisses to her belly like he did every night. 

"I love you," he whispered as Molly ran her fingers through his hair. The nightly conversations with his son were something he was definitely going to keep doing after the baby was born. "I can't wait to meet you. We just finished getting your nursery ready. I hope you like baseball, because your Uncle Bradley and I went a little nuts in there."

"That's an understatement," Molly whispered. "They went flipping bananas."

Bob cupped her pretty belly with both of his hands and smiled. "Mommy's right. We did go overboard."

He watched Molly yawn before she said, "It's okay. Everett and Piper will teach him all about baseball." And then she kept yawning, so Bob got her settled into bed with a pillow tucked against her belly. He set his glasses on the nightstand and turned off the lamp. And then he climbed in behind her as the big spoon and kissed the engagement ring she was wearing. 

"You wanna talk about baby names?" he asked, rubbing his hand along her side, because he knew it would make her sleepy.

"I only like a handful of names," she replied, and Bob could hear the pout in her voice even though the room was dark. 

"Come on, Mo. Literally anything except Everett. Your sister will never forgive you."

"Yeah, but my nephew will think it's funny, and that's almost enough motivation for me to do it."

Bob groaned. "What's your second favorite name?"

It took Molly a few moments, but eventually she said, "I want to name him after you."

"Robert Junior?" he said, already shaking his head. "RJ?" He didn't like it at all.

"No. Your middle name. We can call him Charlie," she mumbled, obviously dozing off.

Now Bob smiled as he kissed his sleeping fiancee on the shoulder. "Charlie Floyd."

-----------------------------

Since it wasn't a leap year, Molly knew Bob wasn't really getting a birthday. "Still only eight years old," she told him on February twenty eighth. She was straddling his lap on the couch, but her belly was fucking enormous now and always in the way. He didn't seem to mind though as he gently held her and cradled her and the baby. She kissed down his cheek until she got to his lips. "You look terrible for your age."

Bob burst out laughing. "Thanks, Honey. Hoping the kid gets your genetics."

"Call him by his name," she whispered. 

"Charlie," Bob said with a smile. There was no room left for Charlie to move around too much, but he always seemed to know when Bob was nearby. He was currently squirming so much, Molly was getting heartburn. 

"He just wants his daddy all the time," she said, running her hands slowly over Bob's chest. "I want his daddy all the time, too."

"Yeah?" Bob asked cautiously. It was really difficult to fuck now. Molly was always uncomfortable. But she knew Bob was never going to rush her. So they spent about five minutes getting her propped up on the couch with throw pillows.

"This is a lot of work for you to get some birthday sex, Bobby," she crooned as his erection bumped her repeatedly in the leg while he made sure she was comfortable. 

"It's worth it," he replied as he sank into her warm pussy.

"Oh, yeah... definitely worth it," she agreed, rocking back gently to meet his slow thrusts. It was unhurried and perfect, and Bob's big hands wrapped around to her belly made her feel safe. 

But later that evening, she knew she had to do something she really didn't want to do. "Bob, it's time," she said solemnly as she stood with her jewelry box in both hands. 

"I understand," he whispered, taking it from her and sitting down on their bed. He sighed sadly and watched her pull her shirt over her head followed by her sports bra. And then the pretty Mrs. Floyd piercings had to come out. She almost laughed at the sad look on his face as she put them in her jewelry box and closed the lid.

"They'll be back. I promise."

"I know," he whispered, kissing along both of her breasts and nuzzling her with his nose. She felt like she looked all swollen and misshapen, but he didn't seem to mind as he kissed her everywhere.

-------------------------

"You can't be serious right now," Molly groaned the following night as she nibbled on some pizza. Everyone was out for Bob's fake birthday at the usual restaurant. "You're going to Disney World? Without me?!" she asked Everett.

Bob tried not to laugh as his soon to be nephew looked genuinely upset. "Mom, can we bring Aunt Molly with us?" he whispered.

But Molly just laughed and kissed him. "No, this vacation is for you and your parents. Besides, the baby will be too young this summer. I'll come next time."

"How much longer until the baby comes?" Everett asked her looking at her belly hopefully. "This is taking forever."

"Hopefully just a few more days," Bob supplied, offering Molly more pizza. But she hadn't even finished one slice yet, just sipping some apple juice instead. 

"No," she told him. "I don't feel great today."

Then Bob noticed the ridiculous grin on Everett's face where he sat perched on Bradley's lap. "I got a new dad. I'm getting my very own cousin, and even an Uncle Bob!"

"You're living your best life, my man," Molly told him. "It's like you planned this all out."

But she really didn't look comfortable at all, and Bob knew she was struggling with fatigue now. So he kissed her cheek, insisted on paying for dinner, and started to herd everyone outside. As soon as he opened the passenger side door of his truck and tried to help her in, she started shaking her head. 

"I'm going to throw up," she insisted and started heading for some of the shrubs along the side of the parking lot. "Oh. Oh no."

But she didn't throw up. Her water broke. Bob froze as Molly turned to look at him as she started crying. "I just peed," she whispered.

Then his adrenaline kicked in fully, and he closed the distance to her. "Honey, I think your water broke," he said gently, and she gasped, panic all over her face.

"No," she said, shaking her head more. "I'm not ready."

"I don't think we have much choice," he told her carefully as he guided her back to the truck. Her sister had already left with Bradley and Everett, so he would have to call them once they got to the hospital. But he needed to focus on this first, because Molly was starting to lose it.

"I can't do this. I can't!" she nearly screamed, fighting him as he tried to get her into the truck. Her pink leggings were all wet, and she was scrambling in every direction seemingly at the same time. "I don't want to," she informed him, eyes wide and unsure. 

"I'll be with you the whole time," he whispered, kissing her cheek. He was over prepared. He knew that. But he'd been sending Molly around everywhere with her hospital bag which he had packed for her, and it was currently tucked behind the driver's seat. She was as ready as she was going to be whether she wanted to admit it or not. 

Once he was finally pulling out of the parking lot with Molly successfully buckled in, Bob felt the panic as well, but he tried to keep his cool. Then suddenly Molly clutched at her belly and loudly groaned, "Shit."

"What?!"

"Is that a contraction?" she asked, gripping at the door handle. "Shit! Fucking hurts!"

When they finally got to the hospital, things had gotten worse. He took her in through the emergency room since that was where she worked. Everyone ran out to watch Bob wheel her inside in a wheelchair. She was gripping the arms and looking back up at him like he was absolutely ruining her day by bringing her here. 

"Molly's here!" one of her coworkers yelled.

Molly responded by crying and shouting, "Fuck!" But nobody seemed to think this was unexpected. They just helped Bob along to the elevator and opened all of the necessary doors to get her to the labor and delivery area.

"Thanks," he told them as another nurse let him know he could take Molly into room two. There were new mothers and nurses pushing bassinets around. It was serene. Peaceful. Really one of the loveliest things Bob had ever seen. And he was currently interrupting it by pushing Molly through as she moaned the f-word so loud and so long that nearly everyone was turning to look. 

"It's okay, Honey," he promised as he got her into room number two. 

"No, Bob!" she shouted. "It is fucking not okay! I feel like I pissed myself. I look like I pissed myself. And Charlie fucking hates me, because it hurts so much!"

She was doubled over, holding her belly. The pain on her face as she had a contraction made Bob reach for her instantly. A tear slid down her cheek, and she whimpered. And then the obscenities flowed. 

Bob tried to apologize to all of the nurses as Molly called them 'fucking assfucks', but they didn't seem to mind at all. He did however close the door as her contractions got closer together.

Hours later, after he had called his mom and Molly's sister and told them what was going on, Bob was exhausted. But he knew Molly was much worse off in that department. She was soaked with sweat and was currently glaring at him. 

"I hope you're happy, Bob," she growled, eyes flashing. "Your monster cock did this to me. Lulled me into a false sense of sexual bliss. And then your filthy mega sperm took over, and finished the job."

She looked like she wanted to hurt him, and he had to try very hard not to laugh as he held her hand. "I'm sorry, Mo. I'll never do it again," he promised.

Then she started crying. "You'll never fuck me again?"

"That's not what I meant!" he said quickly, but she was already in tears. And she said the word 'cuntbag' so many times in a row while she pushed that he lost count. 

"I see the baby," the doctor finally announced after what seemed like days. 

"Get it out! Get it fucking out!" Molly screamed, and Bob felt like screaming too. She had such a tight grip on his fingers, he was sure she cracked some bones. 

But when she looked at him, clearly scared, he kissed her sweaty forehead and told her he had never been more impressed by anyone in his entire life. And it was the truth. She looked like she was on the verge of passing out when the doctor announced that it was in fact a boy and gave the time of birth. After Charlie was measured and weighed, one of the nurses placed him in Molly's arms. 

"I don't know what to do," she whispered, carefully holding him against her chest with one arm and stroking his cheek with her fingers. "I don't know what to do." But her gaze was transfixed on their son, and her lips were softly parted in wonder. Bob could already tell that Charlie was the perfect baby. Little puckered lips and eyes that were fighting to stay open against the bright overhead lights. 

"Oh my god," Bob whispered, leaning down to kiss his son. "Molly. He's actually perfect."

Her fingers stroked along his soft skin while Bob held onto one tiny fist. "He actually is."

---------------------------

The only problem with the next few months was that they flew by. All of Bob's aviator friends had covered the pickup truck in yellow and black BABY ON BOARD signs the day they took Charlie home from the hospital. Molly thought it was hilarious, but Bob grumbled as he removed all of them. 

To Molly's extreme annoyance, Charlie seemed to prefer Bradley over all of their other visitors. Everett was overjoyed every time he got to sit with the baby, and her sister was already helping Molly with literally everything under the sun. But it was Bradley who was able to calm Charlie down and get him to fall asleep on his chest. 

"I'm the baby whisperer," he informed everyone every time he had the opportunity. 

"You're Uncle Turd," Molly told him, but Bradley just smiled at her. She couldn't be too mean, because she needed his help. He was the one who was supposed to be distracting Bob for an entire day while Molly got her wedding gift for him finished. 

She wasn't sure what the two men were going to do after the batting cages, but Molly didn't really care. She had approximately seven hours from the time she dropped Charlie off with her sister to the time she had to be back home. The wedding was in a week, the bodice of her dress was sheer lace, and she wanted the tattoo to be perfect. 

After she told her tattoo artist the exact placement she wanted and the colors to use, she sat back in the chair in her bra with her arm over her head. Molly looked down at the stretch marks on her still puffy belly. Instead of talking to Charlie there every night, Bob sat in the nursery for fifteen minutes and chatted while he rocked him to sleep. And then he did any number of sweet or dirty things to her before they fell asleep together for a few precious hours until the baby woke them up. 

But Bob never once made her feel like her weird looking belly was an issue for him. And when she brought it up one night with tears threatening behind her eyes, he told her she was more beautiful than anything he could have ever dreamed up. And Bob never lied. 

"All finished," the artist said, wiping along her skin with a towel one last time and handing her a mirror. 

A big, bold violet. A beautiful, blooming daffodil. And even a small pink rosebud. Bob, Charlie and Bradley. "Looks great."

----------------------------

As soon as Molly showed Bob her tattoo, he wrapped her up in his arms. "Gorgeous, Honey," he said, kissing her before examining it a little closer. He ran his fingers along the colorful carnations that were there for her mom and dad, and when he got to the daffodil that she got for Charlier, his fingers froze. There was a small gap between his flower and their son's flower, and when he looked up at Molly she was smiling. "Is it finished now?" he asked cautiously. 

She just shrugged. "I'm not sure yet."

Bob would never pressure her to have another child with him. He hadn't really expected to get this lucky in life, let alone feel bold enough to hope for anything more. But that little gap gave him butterflies. Charlie was the sweetest baby in the world, and Bob was obsessed with being a dad. It was his favorite thing. And he wouldn't hesitate to list the condo and find a bigger place if Molly wanted to do this all over again. "You just let me know."

"I will, Coach Cute Daddy."

Bob held her close, knowing they needed to get ready for bed soon. Charlie was still notorious for waking them up at three in the morning to eat, even though he was four months old. Molly kept saying he would probably grow out of it soon, but Bob figured his son loved them so much, he wanted them in the nursery with him. 

"Are you ready for Saturday?" he asked, taking his glasses off as Molly climbed into bed.

"Are you asking if I'm ready for the dream wedding that I've spent months planning out? Then yes, I'm ready. All you have to do is show up with the baby, agree to marry me, kiss me, and fuck me. Not all in the wildflower meadow."

Bob kissed along her shoulder as she fell asleep. Molly made him laugh more than he ever had before. And Charlie made him smile more than he ever had before. And by Saturday evening, he'd be married. 

----------------------

"I can't believe my wild child of a baby sister is getting married today."

Molly sighed contentedly and said, "To Bob Floyd. The sweet, shy man of my dreams."

Her sister laughed and added, "I don't think Bob was planning on anything like you happening to him."

Molly scoffed as she picked up her bouquet made entirely of gas station flowers. "Anything like me? You mean getting his world rocked and having a kid after being together less than a year? He's lucky."

"He is," she agreed, kissing Molly's cheek. "Now please explain to me why you are getting married with these cheap flowers when there's literally an entire meadow of multicolored poppies and zinnias growing outside?"

Molly pressed her nose to them. "Because Bob picked them up for me last night, and they're my favorite. The other flowers can learn some respect."

"If you say so," she replied, taking Molly by the hand. "As soon as I can give you away, you are one hundred percent Bob's problem." But she was holding tight to Molly's hand, and it sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

Molly walked outside with her sister and started down the grassy path toward the spot where Bob was holding Charlie in the distance. "I will never stop being your problem. And Bradley's problem by proximity."

"Good," her sister whispered, and Molly smiled at her as she cried a little bit. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

And then they walked toward the setting sun past the most beautiful shades of orange, green and yellow Molly could imagine. And it probably wasn't like other weddings, but the best ones weren't. 

They stopped so Molly could give hugs and kisses to Bob's parents and the rest of his family. And they stopped so she could get a kiss on the forehead from Bradley. "Love you, turd," she whispered. 

"Hey," he said in his raspy voice as she kissed Everett. "You owe me forever for agreeing to coach tee ball with Bob."

"And you owe me forever for letting you marry my sister," she replied easily.

He just nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. We're square."

Molly was laughing as she handed her gas station flowers off to Nat with a hug, and then she was standing in front of Bob and Charlie. 

"Hey, Honey," Bob whispered as she took Charlie from his hands so she could hold him for a bit while he napped. She kissed his soft chubby cheek, and his eyes fluttered open before closing again. 

Then she met Bob's greenish blue eyes, and he was looking at her like that very first day at tee ball, over a year ago. Like he couldn't believe she was giving him the time of day. She took a step closer to him, and said, "Hey, Coach Cute Glasses. Did you remember your allergy pills?"

"A double dose," he promised. "You ready to marry me?"

"Yes."

Molly held Charlie, and Bob wrapped his strong arm around her waist as they turned toward the sunset. The wedding was short, led by John who married her sister and Bradley last September. And as Molly closed her eyes and kissed Bob at the end of the ceremony, the warmth of the summer evening and the scent of wildflowers washed over her. 

The soft nudge of Bob's glasses against her cheek and the way he helped cradle Charlie had Molly leaning in for another kiss. Maybe it would be just the three of them, maybe not. But Molly wanted to take her family on every adventure with her.

"I love you, Cowboy Bob."

Bob smiled and kissed her softly before pressing his lip to Charlie's forehead. "I love you both."

----------------------------

Ahhhh! Thanks for joining Molly, Bob and CHARLIE on this little adventure! I'm sure they will have so many more together. You can always peep more details about them if you read Batting Practice (and maybe some future one-shots)! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who bugged me to make Molly and Bob a thing.

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[its-all-or-nothing94]

Racing Hearts - Part 1 // Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles Leclerc, a beloved and celebrated F1 driver, yearns for a meaningful connection amidst the glitz and glamour of his high-profile job. As the Monaco GP is around the corner, he fatefully crosses paths with Y/N Y/L/N, an ordinary girl who captures his heart with her genuine personality and kind spirit.

Masterlist

Warnings: None

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

A/N: Sooo, this is my first F1 Story :) I hope you enjoy it. It's a typical romance for all you romance lovers out there ;) Like, Reblog, tell me what you think :D It's highly appreciated!

Disclaimer: This story is purely fictional, and any character portrayals are just how I wrote them - hence fictional! I don't know them, except my OCs.

Tagging: @liebgotts-lovergirl, @softly-writes, @bellewintersroe (I thought, you might enjoy this ;))

The streets of Monaco shimmered under the golden rays of the sun, casting an ethereal glow upon the grand city. You stood at the edge of the bustling harbor, your eyes wide with wonder. You had arrived in this glamorous playground by chance, a spontaneous detour on your adventure across Europe. The winding cobblestone streets, the opulent yachts bobbing in the azure waters, and the hum of wealthy tourists filled the air, creating an atmosphere of indulgence and sophistication.

Your Y/H/C hair fell softly around your sun-kissed shoulders as your Y/E/C eyes scanned the crowd, searching for your best friend, Sofia. Minutes turned into an impatient eternity until, finally, a familiar figure emerged from the throng. Sofia Santoro, her dark hair cascading down her back, approached with a radiant smile that reached her warm brown eyes. You embraced, reuniting after weeks of exploration and discovery.

"Y/N!" Sofia exclaimed, her voice alive with excitement. "You won't believe the sights I've seen! And the food... Oh, you have to try the pastries here. They're heavenly."

You chuckled, your spirited personality shining through. Sofia lived here for a year now, and finally, you came to visit your best friend. "I can't wait to hear all about it, Sof. Monaco truly is a dream."

As you strolled through the luxurious streets, your laughter mingling with the splash of waves, an unexpected occurrence startled them. You stumbled, your steps faltering as if an invisible force had collided with you.

"What is it?" you asked your best friend, but Sofia just looked at you, confused.

"I didn't say anything... But hey, there is that store I told you about. Be right baaack", she sings as she walked away into the store across from the harbor.

You, meanwhile, stood at the edge of the Monte Carlo harbor, your eyes wide with wonder as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the glistening water. The air was thick with anticipation as if the city itself was holding its breath, awaiting the arrival of someone extraordinary.

You took a deep breath, the salty scent of the sea mingling with the aroma of fresh pastries wafting from a nearby café. Your heart fluttered with excitement as you adjusted the strap of your worn leather backpack, the only constant companion on your solo adventure across Europe.

"A breathtaking view, isn't it?"

You turned your head, Y/E/C eyes meeting the warm gaze of a stranger beside you. Chestnut hair, emerald green eyes, and a smile that could light up the night sky - it was as if destiny had brought you together at this very moment. Your heart skipped a beat as you stumbled back, blushing furiously.

"Uh, yes, it is," you stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

The young man chuckled, a sound that was both melodic and infectious. "Apologies if I startled you. I couldn't help but notice your awe as you took in the beauty of Monaco."

Your cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of crimson, your Y/H/C waves tumbling down to frame your face. "It's just...I've dreamed of visiting this place for so long. And to see it like this, it's...magical."

"I couldn't agree more," he replied, extending a hand. "I'm Charles, by the way."

You couldn't say much as you were captivated by him. "Euh Y/N," you managed to squeak out, a shaky hand reaching out to meet his.

Your fingers intertwined an electric current passing between you. At that moment, the noise of the bustling harbor faded, and it was as if they were the only two people in the world.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N," Charles said, genuine warmth in his voice. "Are you enjoying your time in Monaco?"

You nodded, a shy smile gracing her lips. "I am. I've been traveling across Europe, and this is my last stop. My best friend moved here last year. Her dad is a designer, and she took over the store here. But it feels...right, being here."

Charles's eyes sparkled with interest as he leaned in closer. "And for how long are you staying?"

You hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. But with Charles, there was a certain comfort, an inexplicable connection that compelled you to share the truth.

"I actually don't have a set schedule. I'm a freelance photographer taking a break, so I... have no obligations."

Charles chuckled, his cute dimples appearing on his cheeks. "That actually sounds quite nice. Not having any obligations, I mean."

You smiled at him as the bell on the store door rang, and Sofia made her way back to you. 

"Okay, I've got everything, we can... go," Sofia said, the last word hesitant, finally noticing Charles. "Uh, hi," she greeted, and Charles nodded in response with a small smile. 

A young man who bore an uncanny resemblance to Charles walked out onto the street from behind him. You guessed that this must be his brother. He called out something in French and waved at Charles, eyeing him for a second, before disappearing back into the restaurant. 

"I have to go," Charles said. "But maybe we'll see each other again, Y/N. It was really nice meeting you."

He nodded at Sofia before following his brother into the restaurant. You watched him leave with a content smile. 

"Oh my god! Do you know who that was?!" Sofia exclaimed as soon as Charles was gone. 

You looked at her, confused, while you shrugged. "He said his name is Charles."

"Yeah, Charles fucking Leclerc! The Formula 1 driver? Don't tell me you don't know him?"

Sofia raised her eyebrows at you, making you feel foolish. 

"What?"

Sofia put her hand on her hip and rolled her eyes. "You just flirted with one of the most famous Formula 1 drivers there is. He's from Monaco, and you, my dear, didn't even recognize him."

"Why would I? I've never watched Formula 1!" you defended yourself. 

Sofia shook her head. "No, you haven't. But he definitely had his eyes on you, girl." Sofia smiled widely and nudged you.

"So? It's not like I'm going to see him again," You shrugged, turning your gaze back to the ocean. 

"Oh, don't be so quick to dismiss it, girlfriend. Monaco is a magical place. And if he wants to find you, he will find you, I promise."

Meanwhile, at the restaurant, the Leclerc family had gathered, rejoicing in the reunion of all the children back in Monaco.

"Who was that? Another tourist fan?" Arthur inquired, settling down beside their mother, Pascale, and their brother Lorenzo.

"No, actually, she wasn't," Charles responded. "I don't think she even knew who I was."

Pascale glanced at her two sons. "What are you talking about, mon chéris?" she asked just as their entrees arrived.

"Charles was talking to a girl outside. I thought she was a fan," Arthur explained, and Pascale turned her attention to Charles.

"A girl?"

Charles seemed slightly irritated by his younger brother. "It's nothing, Maman. We were just discussing Monaco, nothing more."

Pascale studied her son's face. She knew him well enough to sense that there was more to the story than met the eye.

She sighed. "Well, as long as you don't plan on rekindling things with that dreadful Isabella..."

"Maman!" Lorenzo interjected, shaking his head slightly.

"What? They're not together anymore, so I can speak my mind, can't I?" Pascale asked, looking at Charles, who shook his head, annoyed.

Charles loved his mother, but she had a tendency to be outspoken, even when it would be best to hold her tongue. Charles knew his mother had never approved of his ex-girlfriend, Isabella Rossi. They had met at a charity event in Monaco, where Isabella's wealthy businessman father and her career as a model brought them together.

Initially, Isabella was sweet and caring, and Charles had fallen deeply in love with her. However, after four years, his feelings changed. When he confided in his brothers, best friend Pierre, and his athletic trainer Andrea Ferrari, they all agreed that their relationship had become toxic.

Ending things with Isabella hadn't been easy for Charles. The life of a Formula 1 driver could be lonely, constantly jetting around the world. Having someone who cared about him was a comfort. But eventually, Charles accepted the fact that his feelings had faded, and he ended the relationship. Needless to say, Isabella didn't take it well.

That had been a month ago, and ever since, she had made numerous attempts to win him back. As the Monaco Grand Prix was just around the corner, she knew Charles was back home.

"You can, Maman, and you know it. But can we just enjoy dinner and talk about something else?" Charles asked, digging into his pasta.

"She was really pretty," Arthur chimed in, causing Lorenzo and Charles to look at him, perplexed. Arthur couldn't be referring to Isabella. Arthur, noticing his brothers' confusion, rolled his eyes. "The girl outside? She was really pretty. Are you going to see her again?"

Charles glanced at Arthur for a moment. "Why would I?" he asked, although deep down, he wanted to. There was something about Y/N that stirred something inside him as if she were something special.

"Why not? Don't tell me you don't want to see her again. I saw the way you looked at her, Charles."

Charles took a deep breath. "Even if I wanted to, Art, I don't have her number, just her first name. I don't even know where she's from."

Arthur looked at Charles with an exasperated expression. "Are you shitting me?"

"Arthur!" Pascale immediately intervened.

"Sorry, Ma. But seriously, Charles. You know that if you want to find her, you will. We all know that. So get off your ass and go find that girl!"

"Is she really that special?" Lorenzo asked, looking at Charles.

The middle brother hesitated and then nodded. "I don't know why, but I have this feeling that our story isn't finished yet."

Pascale kept a watchful eye on her son. She took a deep breath and spoke up. "Then why don't you look for her, Charles? If she truly is that special."

Charles looked surprised at his mother. Pascale wasn't one to believe in fate, but if even she was advising him to pursue it, then he knew he should.

He set his fork down and gazed at his family, one by one. "Okay, starting tomorrow, we'll begin searching for Y/N."

"We?" Lorenzo immediately questioned, but Arthur simply nodded and grinned.

Basking in the warm Mediterranean sun, you and Sofia lounged beside the pool at Sofia's opulent apartment the next morning, which her father had graciously rented for her. You relaxed, sipping on glasses of wine and sharing laughter as you reminisced about your European escapades. However, Sofia's mischievous grin indicated that she had something up her sleeve.

"Sooo, Y/N," Sofia said, her grin widening, "Oh my gosh! I can't get over what went down yesterday with Charles Leclerc!"

You blushed slightly, attempting to downplay the encounter. "Oh, come on, Sof. It wasn't that big of a deal. We just chatted for a few minutes. It doesn't mean anything."

Sofia playfully raised an eyebrow. "No big deal? I saw the way he looked at you, and trust me, that wasn't ordinary. Charles is a charming guy, but he's not usually so forward with strangers."

You took a sip of her wine, trying to conceal your excitement, and shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, he was simply being friendly, right? I mean, he interacts with fans all the time. I didn't even know who he was until you told me."

Sofia shook her head, her grin refusing to fade. "Are you serious? The way he gazed at you, Y/N. Trust me, he knows you left an impression."

You shook your head at your friend, well aware of Sofia's tendency to read too much into things. "Yeah, right."

"But Y/N, I've seen Charles with fans before. He's usually reserved, quiet. Yet with you, it was like there was something more. He couldn't take his eyes off of you," Sofia stated, sitting up from the sunbed and raising her sunglasses. "I'm serious!"

You looked at your best friend, your cheeks tinged with a hint of red. "I-I don't know what you're talking about. It was just a chance encounter, nothing more."

Sofia's eyes sparkled with excitement as she continued to prod. "Oh, come on, Y/N! You can't deny the connection between you two. It was written all over his face."

You rolled your eyes. "Could you just stop? I'm not even looking for someone at the moment, and you know that. After everything that happened with Oliver..."

Sofia sighed. "I know, I know. He was a jerk, and you've sworn off love. Got it." She slipped her sunglasses back on. "But I'm still rooting for the perfect celebrity love story." She reclined back into her chair.

You glanced over at your best friend, and then you couldn't help but burst into laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

You lingered at the pool a little longer, enjoying the warm sun on your skin. Suddenly, Sofia's phone interrupted your peaceful moment. She quickly answered, speaking rapidly in both Spanish and French. After hanging up, she turned to you with an apologetic look. "Please don't be upset with me," she pleaded, and you raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Sofia sighed, explaining, "There's an issue at my dad's store that he insists I handle personally. I'm really sorry, Y/N."

You studied your best friend for a moment before responding, "No worries, Sof. I can handle some alone time."

Sofia observed your determined expression. "Are you sure? I promised I would clear my schedule for you."

You sat up and grasped Sofia's hand. "Hey, don't worry about it. I've been traveling solo through Europe for the past six months, so I think I can handle an afternoon alone."

Sofia chuckled, grateful for her best friend's easygoing nature. That was one of the reasons she loved you so much.

Thirty minutes later, Sofia arrived at her father's store. "Okay, what's the problem?" she asked her employee, Cassandra, who explained the situation. The problem turned out to be more time-consuming than Sofia had anticipated. After three exhausting hours, they finally resolved everything. Annoyed, Sofia walked to the counter and set down her phone, which she had used frequently throughout the afternoon. Suddenly, the bell above the door jingled, causing her eyes to widen.

"I knew it!" she exclaimed, her gaze fixed on the individual who had just entered the store. With a wide grin, she approached none other than Charles Leclerc, accompanied by his brother Lorenzo. "I knew you would come back."

Charles looked at her, initially confused, before recognition dawned on him. "Wait, I saw you yesterday, didn't I?"

Lorenzo glanced between Sofia and Charles, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Yes, you did. At the harbor!" Sofia replied excitedly.

"So, we finally found her?" Lorenzo asked hesitantly, trying to make sense of the situation.

Sofia smiled at Lorenzo. "Yeah, it's not her," Charles clarified, causing Lorenzo's attention to snap back to his brother. "But she's the friend with the designer store."

Sofia maintained her smile, shrugging lightly. "That's me, and I'm thrilled you found me. But on the other hand... How?"

Charles chuckled. "Y/N mentioned that she was visiting a friend here who owns a designer store. So we went from store to store today, searching for a clue. And now we've found you."

"You searched all over for her?" Sofia asked, amazed. Charles nodded. "That's incredibly sweet."

A faint blush tinted Charles' cheeks. "So, can you tell me where she is?"

Sofia's smile persisted as she replied, "No."

Lorenzo's head shot up, confusion etched on his face. "No?"

"No... I mean, yes, but let me explain. She's at my place and, well... Okay, never mind. I have a proposition for you. Y/N and I will be at Jimmy'z tonight, so why don't you surprise her and join us there?" Sofia proposed, locking eyes with Charles before glancing at Lorenzo.

Charles exchanged a brief glance with his brother before turning back to Sofia. "We'll be there!"

Lorenzo looked at his younger brother, still perplexed. "We will?"

Charles met Lorenzo's gaze with a firm expression. "We will," he affirmed.

Sofia's grin widened, and she nodded enthusiastically. "Great! OMG, Y/N will be overjoyed when she sees you. She didn't want to believe me when I told her you would search for her and that you two had a special connection..." Sofia rambled, noticing Charles' amused expression.

"Sorry," Sofia finally said, realizing she had been babbling.

Charles chuckled. "It's okay. See you tonight." He took his brother's arm, and they exited Sofia's store.

A mischievous smile played on Sofia's lips as she watched them leave. Oh, Y/N was going to love this.

Upon returning home, Sofia found you emerging from the shower, clad in towels. As you applied moisturizer, Sofia entered the room with a smile on her face.

"Oh, you're back," you greeted your best friend.

"I am, and I come bearing gifts as an apology for taking so long," Sofia replied, placing a jaw-dropping black dress with golden sequins on your bed.

Curiosity piqued, you examined the beautiful garment. "Sof, no! I can't accept this, and you know it," you protested. You were well aware of Sofia's affluent background and her tendency to shower you  with gifts, but you always declined.

"Come on! It's from my store, and I insist, Y/N. I want you to have it," Sofia insisted, revealing a pair of matching shoes from behind her back.

Your fingertips trembled with anticipation as your gaze shifted from the mesmerizing dress to Sofia and back again. With a gentle, hesitant touch, your fingers delicately brushed against the luxurious fabric. It felt soft and smooth beneath her touch, its fine craftsmanship evident in every thread. The sensation sent a shiver of excitement through you, making you appreciate the dress even more. "No, Sof... I wouldn't even know when to wear it..."

"Oh, I do! How about tonight, at Jimmy'z?" Sofia proposed.

"Jimmy'z?" you questioned. "Oh, no, Sof! You know I despise those types of clubs..."

Sofia draped her arm around you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Well, that's a shame, but there's no way you're getting out of this one, my dear. I've already made all the arrangements."

With that, Sofia pranced out of your room, leaving her best friend in stunned silence. However, a smile crept onto your lips as you shook your head in amusement. Once again, you gazed at the dress. It truly was a stunning piece, and in that moment, you felt a flicker of excitement at the thought of wearing it tonight.

>> Part 2

[reallyromealone]

Title: ghost in the shell

Fandom: none applicable

Characters: ghost oc

Fic type: story

Pairings: ghost x male reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, OC insert, angst, ghost original character, no name for OC

Notes: :)

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Name) Remembered everything.

Did you know he died 1,485 times? He did.

Though he always stood back up and coughed out a bullet or puked out poison, it was hard to kill death after all and everytime he got to do his favourite party trick of truly striking the fear of death into someone's soul.

Or killing them.

But hey, they killed him first.

"The god of death, doing puzzles" a voice chuckled beside him and (name) turned to his spectral boyfriend who floated beside him casually "says the person who did puzzles with me when they walked this planet" (name) said simply as he put another piece in, this was their norm. (Name) Enjoyed his ' retirement ' until he got bored in 100 year or two weeks, it depended on his mood.

"You really abuse those reapers" the ghost teased and (name) snorted "they have benefits and one month vacation not to mention Excellent pay" (name) knew how hard the job of a reaper could be and he made sure his employees were compensated as such, living so long he had a pretty diamond nesting egg.

The two went about their day like this, cooking and cleaning and going about life.

(Name)s spectral loved was his everything, his reason to keep going... He loved him more than anything.

"I wonder when I'll go to the bright place..." Words that always broke (name) with guilt...

Because he was the reason he stayed.

(Name) Had the ability to keep someone bound to the mortal realm with him and he chose the love of his life, it was selfish and monsterous of him.

"One day... My moon" (name) said softly as they finished the puzzle, the sound of the television playing as the ghost watched his dramas.

Guilt always ate at him, it was cruel and unfair to bind him to this realm when he had people waiting for him...

It was late as the ghost slept on the couch, be didn't need too but it passed the time, (name) crouched before him "I'm sorry my love..." He whispered before kissing him sweetly and watching him open his eyes confused as his body glowed "babe-- what's going on?!" He asked worried and (name) smiled at him "it's time baby..."

"B-but I won't have you! I don't want to be there without you!"

"I'll be there soon enough... Just keep the bed warm for me"

"No! This isn't fair I don't want to be without you!" He sobbed as he reached to (name) as his body lifted up and their fingers connected "I love you" (name) whispered and the last thing he heard was "don't leave me alone"

But (name) was the one who was alone.

He was always alone.

Because he decided he could no longer be selfish.

[migosis]

after a long, hard day at work (erik killmonger x OC)

summary: exactly the title. Nyla treats her man after a long hard day at work.

warnings: D/s, smut, c*ck worship, alladat nasty sh!t, its k!nktober!!!!

When he arrived home, she was to be kneeling at the door upon his arrival.

She figured today must've been very busy for Erik since she didn't hear from him at all since the morning. He hadn't even replied to the lovely photos she'd sent fresh out of the bath. She'd oiled herself up and admired herself in the mirror. She looked so good it that it would be selfish not to share it.

After dressing, she kneeled at the elevator entrance awaiting Erik's arrival, a ritual she performed daily. She was in lounge clothes since she stayed at home today and did some light cleaning. She wore a soft v neck t-shirt that hugged her torso with loose-fitting pajama shorts that tied at her waist. Her back was straight, and she allowed her hands to rest palm up on her knees.

She was thankful to hear Erik's voice on the other side of the door within minutes. She tensed a little, already sensing his frustration from the tone of his voice. He breezed in, acknowledging her with his eyes only. He sat his briefcase down haphazardly and paced the room as he spoke firmly.

"T, I get it, but we're not folding. The terms of the contract stay the same. They will sign it if they know what's best for them."

"We wait it out until midnight. They really don't have a choice unless they want to be indebted to colonial forces forever. Trust me on this. They think they're going to force our hand, and that's not the precedent I'm trying to set."

Now Erik paused in front of her as he listened to the voice on the phone. She proceeded to carefully untie the laces on the oxford dress shoes before he stepped out of them. He sighed harshly and hung up the phone. He ran his hand over his face, and his shoulders dropped a little, decompressing from the day.

He used the back of his hand to stoke her cheek. His knuckle tilted her chin upwards as he leaned over to kiss her intently. Relief flooded through her body when he touched her.

"I'm sorry about that princess." He held her elbow as he straightened his back, pulling her to her feet.

"That's okay. I hope everything works out. Are you really sure they'll sign?"

She helped remove his suit jacket and hung it up in the closet. He nodded.

"You're trusting your gut. That's all that matters." He smiled at her, happy that he had her to come home to.

"How was your day?"

"It was fine, a bit restless. I mostly just organized and cleaned a little. I got some of the holiday decorations out, but there's a couple of boxes I can't get to, so I'll need your help."

"Baby, it's only October."

"Yes, but I need to take inventory of what I have so I know what else I need to buy. They're already putting the Chistmas decorations on the shelves."

"Alright, Alright. Have you talked to Pandora lately?"

"We talked a little last week."

"You should link up with her soon."

"Okay. She's pretty busy with the baby, but I'm sure she probably could use some support." She hadn't seen her best friend since her baby was born 8 weeks ago since they we're hours away from one another.

"How about when I get down those decorations, I pull out your art supplies?"

She didn't want to be disrespectful by rolling her eyes, so she just looked away with her arms crossing her chest. Anything that required much of a creative drive hadn't been on her radar lately.

"I just don't want you in this big ass penthouse lonely and bored."

"I'm not lonely or bored." She defended.

"But you're isolated, and I don't like that for you."

"I get out... I go to.. the store. And on walks." She tried to sound convincing but failed miserably. "I've been filming more book reviews for YouTube."

"You have and that's great. But that same community you're building online is just as important in real life."

She raised her hands in surrender. "Okay, I get it. I'll reach out to Dora."

"Did you see my pictures?" She said with an upbeat lilt in her voice.

"I did. They were real nice baby, made my day." He pulled her close to him, arms resting on around the small of your back. Her eyes sparkled at his praise.

"I can make it some more, that is, if you have time for me, Sir? It seems like you had a rough day."

"I have a few loose ends to tie up, then I'm all yours. Wait for me in the office?"

She kneeled at Erik's desk, but when he walked in, he relieved her, insisting she sit in the armchair near the corner of the room. That meant he'd probably be longer than she wished for. She cozied up with a blanket and a book while Erik typed and took a phone call. After reading two chapters, she glanced at him over the book. He was concentrated on whatever he was doing as he looked between two monitors. She strolled over, settling behind him. Briefly, she looked at the monitors, but the spreadsheets that overflowed with data made her head hurt. Knots of tension in his shoulders began to unravel while her hands worked. Once her fingertips kneaded his temples, he sighed in relief and relaxed in his chair.

"Thank you, princess. I'm almost finished. Please be patient."

Since he said please, she didn't allow her disappointment to show.

"Kneel next to me. Legs open, head down." He kissed her on the forehead before turning back to his screens. The command ushered in wetness between her legs. Her heart beat quickened with so much anticipation that she had to focus on her breath to stay calm. About ten minutes later, she saw Erik's footsteps move around her. The room was still before he returned again. She heard the book she was reading earlier plop closed, then clinking over near the bar cart.

"Look at me." He sat relaxed in the armchair she occupied earlier. He leaned back slightly, chin up, shoulders back, and arms propped up on both sides of the chair. His button-up was untucked, the first few buttons undone, and the tie he'd worn earlier was no longer confining his neck. He beckoned her to come to him with one hand motion.

She crawled over to where he sat, maintaining eye contact with him. He admired her as she kneeled before him. She smelled the bold amber liquor in the tumbler Erik sipped on.

"Would you like a taste?"

"Yes, sir." He held the glass to her lips for her. When he pulled the glass away a few dribbles flowed down her lips. Erik caught them with his tongue before they could even reach her chin. His lips enveloped hers, demanding entrance. She allowed his tongue to survey her mouth, their tongues wrestling like this until they were out of breath. Erik's hands groped her breast, which made her nipples press firmly against the fabric of her shirt. When his lips left hers, she let out a small breathy moan.

"Take this off." When her top half was exposed, she grasped her breasts roughly as she bit her lips, demonstrating how needy she was.

"That's my job, hands at your knees."

She whined but the sounds soon turned into pleasurable hums as his lips sucked her nipples. He nipped at her flesh with his teeth, it causing her stir underneath him. From the table beside him, he picked up a ball gag and brought it to her pink lips, already plump from their kissing. When she did not open her mouth him he looked at her curiously.

"What is it?"

"I don't wanna wear that. I just want to taste you." She placed her hand on his knee, brushing against the fabric as she moved up his thigh.

"But you were so good just now, waiting on me. Can I say thank you first?"

"You've just been on my mind all day." Her doe eyes made it hard for him to refuse, but the truth is that he'd been craving to see the face she made when she came.

"It'll be quick then. That means you're already wet for me. Plus, I want that mouth nice and messy. Now, move your hand until I give you permission."

She retracted her hand placing it back on her knee. This time when he brought the gag to her mouth she opened it. When Erik peered at her he saw gratitude in her eyes.

She looked beautiful. He reached inside her shorts, easily accessing her, as she was free of underwear. His fingers pressed into her folds. She mewled and melted into him. Her essence glistened on his fingers when he pulled them out to examine them.

"Look at that princess, I was right. You want me to keep going?"

"Uhm huh." She slurred behind the gag.

"Say please."

"Puhles." She struggled.

There he was at her entrance again, slipping in two fingers this time. Her eyes fluttered, then closed completely as she focused on the sensation. She pushed downwards, encouraging him to go deeper. His fingers curled inside of her, pushing against her pillowy folds. Her moans rang in his ears despite the ball gag. A pool of saliva that collected began to ooze from her mouth onto her chin and dripped on her chest. The messier her chest got, the more her pussy seemed to follow. Erik had easily slipped another finger inside of her and she'd been so close to cuming that Erik needed to support her weight. He could feel her clenching around him periodically.

"Be a good girl and cum for me." The hand that wasn't inside of her rubbed against her clit. Her warm juices splashed as kept his pace, even as her insides contracted against him. Indistinguishable sounds broke free from her throat as her body seized. He watched in satisfaction as the meat on her pudgy thighs and backside shook. Her empty, unfocused gaze stared beyond him, drunk with pleasure.

Erik removed the gag from her lips replaced it with his fingers. She sucked them slowly and hummed in delight.

"I love seeing you on your knees. It makes me want to fuck you."

It was times like this when the words he said sent shivers down her spine that made her wait worth it. She loved that he wanted her, she loved being a slut for him. Erik stood from his seated position, allowing her to see that he was fully bricked up inside his pants. Her mouth watered in excitement. She looked up to him eagerly, anticipating his movements.

"Fuck my throat," She pleaded, "Please, Sir." She had almost forgotten her manners in her desperation. She rose on her knees so that she was eye level with his dick. She watched as he took his time unbuttoning his shirt. The more of his skin that he revealed, the more she craved contact. His frame was thick, and sturdy. It became hard for her to sit still and she no longer knew what to do with her hands, so she went back to squeezing her nipples that were slick with drool. It was when he removed his undershirt and began to unbuckle his belt when she interrupted.

"May I?"

He dropped his hands at his sides and moved closer towards her obliging her. Her fingers couldn't move fast enough to unbuckle his pants, and move his boxers out of the way. Her mouth was on him immediately, the pants and boxers still hung around his hips. She swallowed his length entirely. He let his head hang back as he growled under his breath. When he looked back down at her, he struggled to keep his composure at the sight. Her pretty chestnut eyes blinked up at him through full, curly lashes. She engulfed him again, and remained here until her throat strained. When he left her throat she gasped and moaned out.

"Take your time, baby. I'm not going nowhere." She nodded, only slightly embarrassed at her neediness.

"I love this big dick." She took him in her hands and slapped him against her tongue a few times. "You making me so wet."

She lifted him up and slowly glided her tongue under his shaft up and down, feeling each and every vein there. She left soft, wet kisses on his balls before licking them lightly, suctioning them with her lips. Her tongue rhythmically massaged the flesh. His groans only fueled her to take more of him into her mouth, as much as she could fit. She focused her lips again at the tip of his dick, while one hand massaged his balls. She tightened her lips around the head of his dick and watched him. His eyes were low but focused. His abdomen tensed beginning to thrust further into her as her teasing would only suffice for so long. She allowed him to set the pace, and when he began to hit the back of her throat, she nearly orgasmed to the lewd noises that came from her mouth. It was like there was a secret g-spot there that made her insides do summersaults when Erik poked it. He gently guided her movements with his hand on the back of her head. He felt amazing gliding down her throat, but she could take more. She dropped lower under him, sitting on her ankles, and placed her hands on the outside of his thigh, encouraging his movements so that he could literally drop the dick down her throat.

He groaned as he slid down her throat. "You are my lovely little cocksleeve. How's that feel angel?" She moaned and blinked back tears.

"Move your hands so I can give you what you asked for." She relaxed her muscles as best as she could and concentrated on breathing in through her nose when Erik would slide out. She loved the sensation of her heavy tits bouncing each time he'd hit the back of her throat. Saliva rolled down her chin and collected at he base of his dick. When he slid out of her, her only purpose was to clean him off.

Nyla was perched in front of him, watching his muscles move as he removed his clothes completely. He stepped backwards and sat down. When she tried to come closer to him, Erik shook his head. "Stay." His eyes were dark and stern.

She pouted in protest. He leaned back and stroked himself as he took in her body. The evening sunlight that filtered through the curtains hit her perfectly, amplifying the warm red undertone of her skin. Swollen lips, wet eyelashes, and a complete mess all over her breasts. Hesitantly, she moved her hand down her body into her shorts. She looked him in his eyes and raised her eyebrow as if to ask, 'Is this okay, is this what you want?' Her clit was moist and puffy. She circled her clit and cried out with need. When he did not stop her from touching herself, she took the lenience and ran with it. She leaned back, removed the shorts and it was a matter of seconds before her pussy welcomed her fingers inside. She did not take her eyes off of him or his dick. His chest moved up and down as he breathed and his forehead was now covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He looked so strong and godly gazing down at her while his muscles worked to pleasure himself. She took note of his movements so that when she took over, she could recreate them herself.

"Can I please cum? Can I cum with your dick in my mouth Sir?" He made her plea a few more times before he called her over with a hand signal and a nod. She crawled the short distance to him. She kissed his feet, his calves, and all the way up his thighs. Before she could begin, Erik grabbed her by the neck and kissed her sloppily. She used the wetness between her legs to make his dick shine before taking him in her mouth. Once she found her rhythm she played in her pussy until she came again. Her eyes rolled and fluttered with him still inside of her. She felt Erik's dick twitch in her mouth at the sight. She brought her face close to his and encased his dick between her breast, moving up and down slowly.

"Don't cum yet, cause then I'll have to stop. And I still haven't decided where I want your delicious cum? What do you think?" She licked her lips. Her movements, paired with her provoking words, were hypnotizing.

"Its your world baby." Is all he managed. She smiled internally, feeling empowered. His orgasms was hers. All hers.

"Good, I just want you to relax honey." Erik smiled at her endearment, her care meant the world to him. "I love you," she said lowly.

"I love you." Moments between them like this made the world feel like it was at a standstill, like only he and her existed and nothing else mattered. She took him in her hand and rubbed him against her face, scattering warm wet French kisses all over his groin and dick. She massaged him, only using her hands for a while, returning to his balls and further down to his taint, pressing gently.

"Fuck, baby." His breathing hitched and his toes curled so she took it easy in that area. While one hand stoked him, the other gently made its way up his torso. You brushed your lips and tongue against his torso, the sensation of her breath made goosebumps spread across his body.

"You are so handsome, you know that? I don't know how I got so lucky." Erik's head rested against the chair with his legs outstretched. His eyes were closed, only opening occasionally. She used both hands, twisting and stoking, letting her mouth drip onto him to keep it moist. She applied slight pressure to the tip, and when she noted Erik's hips tilting up towards her, she slowed her motions again.

"I could do this for hours. You taste so good."

She circled his dick around her lips basking in how nice and hard he was. When he briefly opened his eyes and saw the pleasant smile on her face, he began to moan, knowing she truly enjoyed this did something to him. Her intimacy and devotion made him feel seen.

He slid into her mouth with ease. She allowed herself a moment to rest there, paying him true tribute. She hummed and slowly began bobbing her head up and down, then added her hands to the combination.

"Mmmm, just like that." He groaned. "I think I want my cum down your pretty throat, would you like that?"

She moaned in response.

"Hands behind your back." He grabbed the curly bun and guided her head down his shaft, his hips thrusting up slowly. Her mouth opened wider and wider, and her tongue moved out to accommodate him. She held her head there until she began to struggle for air. He repeated the same again, leaving her gasping for air. As he held his position in her throat, he pinched her nose for a few seconds. Her throat spasmed around him before he released her and pulled away. Warm strings of saliva hung from her lips. The whites of her eyes turned began to turn crimson.

"Please, give it to me." He soothed her, wiping a tear that began to form at the corner of her eye. Her begging made his dick ache in bliss, a culmination of how he'd felt the past thirth minutes bathing in her mouth. He was back inside of her mouth, fucking her throat rapidly. She held her head still for him like a good girl would awaiting his cum. On her tongue, she felt his dick begin to throb. She could feel warm spurts ooze from him, marking her throat, and she swallowed each one as they came. His moans of satisfaction made her more fulfilled than she could ever describe. He squeezed the tip so that any remaining landed on her tongue. She licked her lips and placed subtle kisses on his dick that laid in his lap.

Her eyes ran over his body. He laid back, limbs limp in exhaustion. Once he gathered himself, he looked at her in pure amazement and appreciation. He could tell she wanted to be close to him, occupy his space.

"Come."

She straddled him, laying her head on his shoulder. He palmed her thighs, giving them a nice jiggle before lightly rubbing her back.

"Are you good princess?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you for letting me please you."

"Thank you, princess. Where'd you learn to be so attentive?"

"What do you mean?"

"You anticipate my needs. And that... that wasn't no regular head."

"Well, you anticipate mine too. You deserve honor. Just because you're my Dom doesn't mean I can't reciprocate. I belong to and submit you, without you asking."

"Damn, say that last part again?" He bit his lip before meeting your eyes and joining you in laughter.

"I belong to you, Sir." He traced her features with his eyes before gracefully placing pecks all over her face.

--

Several hours later, chimes from Erik's computer caused him to stir in his sleep. They'd fallen asleep in his office. He was disoriented until the glow of the screen caught his attention. He shifted under Nyla's weight causing her to grip him tighter and persuading him back to his sleep. It was 12:05am and chimes became continuous beckoning him to the computer. He sat her down where she curled into ball and sulked over to the screen. Several new emails sat in his inbox. The first was the official signed contract agreement. The next was a link to an article from T'Challa headlining to new deal.

Wakandan officials agree to allow U.S. based descendants of slavery asylum after rampant white supremest attacks.

"Damn these muthafuckas are fast. I knew those terms were fucking irresistible."

He picked Nyla up to carry to to their bedroom. She groaned at him disrupting her sleep, but he ignored it. "Baby, guess what? They signed the contract."

"Okay baby. Just have them call me tomorrow, I'm sleep."

Erik laughed off her nonsense and covered her body before sinking into the bed himself. He closed his eyes, noticing how light and refreshed he felt. Although he felt a sense of relief about this deal he groaned internally when he began to think about work. He recalled Nyla's words from earlier about honor. He knew that he needed to honor his body and mind because the exhaustion that encompassed him at the moment was not for the weak. He felt a sense of calm wash over him as he made the decision to take some time off of work, perhaps go on a vacation for the holidays.

-

taglist: @hearteyes-for-killmonger @loveeeeandaffection @iamrheaspeaks @adasosweet @goddessofthundathighs @thiccdaddy-mbaku@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @eye-raq @madamslayyy @sweeter-thejuice @wawakanda-btch @theunsweetenedtruth @wokeblock @smutty-smut-smuty @wakandamaybe @stainontheground @killmongerkink @soufcakmistress @mysticbear21 @nickidub718 @blackpinup22 @killmonger-fics @goddessofthundathighs

[beyondthesefourwalls]

To Make a House a Home

Summary: House hunting in California was proving to be a challenge. Leave it to Bradley to manage to pull off the biggest surprise you’ve ever gotten.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n, can be read as unnamed OC) 

Word Count: 1.6K 

Warnings: smut, fluff, language 

Notes: This was written off the blurb request I got during my TGM Blurb Party by @cherrycola27​. She requested Bradley. Smut/Fluff. House. “You can’t trick me into confessing my secrets” and it ran away from me, so she gets a one shot instead. Hope you like it and that it worth the wait, girlfriend!

------

“I don’t think I can handle an open house today, baby. Can we just go back to the apartment instead?” 

The dejection in your voice was clear. You had been on the market for a house for months now that you had relocated to San Diego from Virginia. But the market was nearly impossible right now, and you were dealt rejection after rejection for every single offer you put in. You were renting an apartment on a month to month basis with the majority of your things packed away in a storage unit, and both of you were so eager to get out of the third floor walk up and into a place you could make a home. 

Bradley squeezed your hand before bringing it to his lips as he took an exit off the freeway. It was sunny but not too hot today, and the wind from the open windows made the strands of your hair flutter around your face. “Just one, okay? I have a good feeling about this."

“Just one?” you asked, hesitation and reluctance in your voice. But you would humor him, he knew, because he never asked for much. 

“Just one,” he confirmed. 

You sighed, and Bradley knew you really didn’t want to, but you agreed with him nonetheless. You weren’t happy now, but his own excitement started vibrating under his skin, because he knew you would be. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face. 

It was only another few minutes before he pulled into a neighborhood. He saw how you sat up a little straighter in your seat and how your brows pulled together out of the corner of his eye; you started to recognize your surroundings, taking them in. You didn’t say anything right away, but Bradley could practically feel the wheels in your head turning. You waited until he pulled into the driveway of a very familiar house before turning to him.

“What are we doing here?” 

The here in question was a house that could only be described as your dream home. It had almost everything your Pinterest Home Goals board could ever imagine, and maybe even a little bit extra, and you had fallen in love with it the moment you saw it during your house hunting more than a month ago. Your eyes had lit up in a way that Bradley had never seen before, only to be stamped out when the offer you had put in before you had even left the driveway was rejected the very next day. It had been hard, but you had simply smiled at him and said you would find another dream home, and that as long as you were with him, it didn’t matter. He knew you were being truthful, but he also knew that every home you looked at afterward simply didn’t compare. When he got the phone call from the realtor last week that it was back on the market after the original buyers had fallen through, he knew he had to move fast. With a little more cash down and a pre-approved loan for the rest, he had managed to sign all the paperwork and get the keys with you being none the wiser. 

Bradley turned the Bronco off and got out. You were still giving him that same confused, skeptical look when he rounded the vehicle to open your door for you like he always did. He couldn’t help but lean forward and place a kiss on the top of your scrunched up nose. 

“Come on,” he said, helping you down and closing the door once you were safely on the ground. “We should go inside.” 

“Bradley, there’s no one else here. And isn’t this house already sold?” 

You sound dumbfounded, and more than a little confused. You climbed the few steps to the closed front door, and Bradley couldn’t keep it to himself any longer. A smile took over his entire face and he dug around in his front pocket until he held his hand out. A shiny, silver key laid in his palm. 

“I..I don’t…what’s happening?” 

Instead of answering, he took the key and inserted it into the lock. The door swung open easily and he gestured for you to go in. You did so slowly, not taking your eyes off of him until you crossed the threshold. You gasped when you looked around. The large open concept living room and kitchen were bare, not a single rug or piece of furniture to be found as of yet. But on one of the walls right there in front of you, your favorite photo of the two of you hung, snug in its frame that had been sitting in your storage unit up until he had retrieved it earlier this morning. You stared at it in shock for a long moment. Bradley closed the front door and wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You turned to look at him, that same look of disbelief on your face, but your eyes were bright with love and awe.

“This is ours?” you asked quietly, like you were too scared of the answer. He nodded. “You bought this?” 

“We bought this,” he corrected, “but yes. We did.”  

You didn’t say anything, just stared at him for a long moment before squealing and launching yourself into his arms. The unexpected force of your body made him lose his footing and sent the both of you to the ground. He braced your fall with his body, but even then, he was laughing. 

“Bradley! This is our house!” 

“It is,” he agreed, looking up at you with the biggest smile on his face. You squealed again before leaning down to kiss him and he returned it eagerly. His hands settled on your butt, squeezing softly through the denim. 

“How did you pull this off without me knowing? You aren’t sneaky!” 

“I’m plenty sneaky when it means surprising the love of my life, thank you very much,” he remarked. You rolled your eyes but kissed him again nonetheless. 

“Our house,” you mumbled against his lips. He hummed in response, nodding. His cock twitched in his jeans. You always had a powerful effect on him, but combined with the way your body pressed against his, wiggling in excitement, and knowing that the happiness radiating off of you practically in waves was because of him, he was almost fully hard in a matter of moments. You could feel it, too. He knew by the way you ground down into him and tugged at his hair. You pulled away after a moment, rolling off of him and climbing to your feet.

He was about to push himself up as well but stopped when you tugged your shirt over your head. His jaw dropped as the material fluttered to the floor beside where he lay. You kicked off your shoes and worked on getting your jeans and panties off next. You returned to him as soon as you were left only in your bra, and you immediately set to work on undoing his belt and pulling his zipper down. 

“Don’t you want to look around?” he asked, even as he was finally getting with the program and raising his body just enough to quickly discard his own shirt. 

“No, I want to fuck you in our house. Right now. And I want you to tell me how you managed to do all of this.” 

He groaned in pleasure when you freed his cock from the confines of his boxers. “You can’t trick me into confessing my secrets. Oh, fuck, baby, god damn.” 

You had taken his length into your mouth with no preamble, sucking and licking him in the sloppy way that you knew he loved. The back of his head hit the hardwood floors as you hollow your cheeks. He cursed your name when you hummed around him. He threaded his fingers loosely through your hair. “Oh my god, you’re so good to me.” 

You didn’t work him with your mouth for too long, pulling off of him after only a minute or two, but he couldn’t bring himself to complain about it when you were climbing up his body and lining him up with your glistening wet pussy. You sank down slowly, and your matching groans echoed off the walls of the empty house. 

“You’ll tell me eventually,” you breathed, clenching around him as he bottomed out. You ran your hands over his chest, your nails scraping against his nipples as you went. His hips jerked up into you at the sensation and he knew you were right; despite what he said, your tricks always worked on him. 

He rolled the two of you so you were on your back below him. He thrusted in and out of you with long, hard strokes, you begging him for more the entire time in that desperate way you always did when his cock was buried inside of you. He wouldn’t be surprised if neither of you lasted long, but that was okay, because you had an entire house to christen.

“Welcome home, baby,” he grunted, slamming his hips into yours and reveling in the sounds you were making for him, echoing around him like music, “welcome home.” 

-----

Masterlist

Notes: In my head I was picturing the couple from the first TGM one shot I ever wrote, A Change to Everything. You don't have to read that to follow along with this, obviously, but check it out if you haven’t! 

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[starogeorgina]

Killer queen

Warnings: Incest, SA, character death

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen × Targaryen OC

1.06

As the weeks passed, your body had become more swollen and tender, meaning you had to spend more time on bed rest, which wasn’t an issue in itself; in fact, you found some perks in it. Tré would come cuddle with you in the mornings before his lessons, your sweet sister Helaena would bring her children to visit you, and Aemond was very attentive and would spend hours rubbing your swollen ankles and feet.

Aside from the pain, you thought the only downside would be boredom. You'd miss dragon riding and going wherever you wanted, but that was the furthest thing from your mind.

The clubfoot began visiting your quarters more frequently, which unnerved you, but you kept quiet due to the fear that nobody would believe you or that they would think you were hormonal and not listen.

You regretted staying quiet.

Your eyes were stinging from crying so much, and your hands were trembling. Your lips felt numb from breathing so heavily; the only words you could get out were, “I want my mother!”

Your lady-in-waiting immediately raced off to get your mother, while you remained sobbing on the floor of your bedchamber. You were thankful that Aemond had taken your son dragon riding; you didn’t want them to see you like this. Never in your life had you felt so dirty and violated before; you just wanted the sickening images of what you witnessed to go away.

“Ashara!” your mother gasps. She kneels down beside you, one hand placed on your back and the other on your stomach. “What’s happened? Are you in pain? Is it the baby?" When you don’t answer, she calls to your lady in waiting, “Fetch the maester!”

“N—no,” you say, taking a deep breath, trying to stabilize your voice. “The baby is fine... Larys Strong… he…”

Before you can finish the sentence, your mother pulls you into her and holds you; in return, you cling to her the same way you did as a child. She strokes your hair and says, "It's okay; it’s okay; I’m here now.”

“I didn't know he was in my quarters. He appeared when I was indecent and began fondling himself.”

Feeling warm and uncomfortable, you removed your tights, pulled your nightgown up to your knees, and, irritated with the fabric of your rubbing against your sensitive breasts, pulled the top half of your gown down. You’d fallen asleep until you heard your lady-in-waiting for the morning let out a whimpering sound, followed by the feeling of a blanket being tossed over your body. You opened your eyes to see Lord Larys sitting across from you with his cock in his hand.

You froze, and you ended up staring at the same spot on the ground until he brought himself to climax and left your bedchamber.

Lifting your head up, you lock eyes with your mother; her brown eyes are wide and glossy. Out of all the emotions written on her face, she didn’t seem surprised. "Mother, has he done this before with someone else?”

She remains silent.

Anger replaces your distress. “Did he do this to my sister?"

“No,” she says, shaking her head before looking up at your lady. “Ask the maester to make the princess some tea to help calm her.”

“Mother?”

“Have you told anyone else yet?”

“No, did Larys—"

She cups the side of your face and wipes your tears away with her thumb. “I don’t know what to do; I don’t know how to help you, my sweet.”

“Tell me the truth; has he done the same to you?”

She nods.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Because I’m ashamed to admit that I let him!” She cries. “I had no one, and then he befriended me not long after Aegon was born, and he…”

“Took advantage of you,” you say, kissing the back of her hand. “None of this is your fault. You were vulnerable, and he took advantage of that.”

Tears fall from your mother's eyes as she finally confides in another person about her awful relationship with Larys. Although your relationship with your mother strained at times, you were determined to make the clubfoot pay for everything he did. You needed to protect her from him. You press your forehead against hers. “You know I can’t let him live?”

She squeezes her eyes shut and nods again.

“Ser Criston!”

Your mother says nothing and leans back before the door at the end of the room swings open. The knight bursts into the room with a worried look on his face and says, “My queen, princess.”

You look up at the knight, whom you suspect has been outside your quarters since your mother came. “Bring Larys Strong to the dragonpit, discreetly.”

—

As you watch Ser Criston throw the leech that was Larys Strong to the ground, you become numb. The knight comes to stand beside you, and he gives you a comforting nod. All your mother told Ser Criston was that Larys was inappropriate towards you, and that was enough for him. You glare at the clubfoot as he begins to try to justify his actions and asks for mercy.

“The princess is showing you the greatest of mercy,” Ser Criston says. “Be thankful; it’s by her hand you are here, and not her brothers.”

Aegon would have let Sunfyre toy with Larys before finally killing him, and beyond, gods, you dread to think what punishment your husband would have seen fit.

Due to how quickly Ser Criston brought Larys to the pit, it was likely Aemond still didn’t know. Of course, word of his demise would spread, so you had suggested only telling Aemond and Aegon the truth about what he did to you and keeping what happened between your mother and Larys a secret. And to keep tongues from wagging, it would simply be shared that he betrayed House Targaryen.

Aelora crawls forward. The connection between you is strong enough that you don’t even need to say the words for the shedragon to breathe fire.

“Fucking viper. The world is far better off without him, princess,” the knight says.

You knew Cristion was correct in what he was saying, but seeing Larys’s crisp body laying on the ground didn’t undo what was done.

—

You see Aemond for the first time since the morning sitting on an old leather chair in front of the fireplace with a book in his hand. He knows you’re there but doesn’t say anything. You walk towards him, studying the way his jaw was clenched; you can only imagine the anger burning inside him. Slowly, he links his arm around your waist and attempts to pull you onto his lap.

You try to step back, afraid that you’d hurt him. “I’m too heavy.”

The ghost of a smirk pulls at Aemond’s lips. He gives your hip a small squeeze and pulls you in closer. Seeking his comfort, you climb onto his lap. Your lower back presses against the arm of the chair, and your legs dangle over Aemond’s. You bury your face into the crook of your husband's neck, breathing in his scent.

You remain in a comfortable silence for some time as he continues to read; eventually, he says, “I can sense it, you know.”

“Sense what?”

“Sense how much you love me.”

You pull back to look up at him. His eye patch was off, and the flames reflected off the sapphire where his eye should be. To most, Aemond was terrifying-looking, but to you, he was beautiful, and you were forever grateful that he was yours.

Aemond presses a kiss to your cheek. “I just want to remind you that I love you all the same.”

“Thank you; I needed to hear that.”

He kisses your cheek again, but this time multiple times. “I will spend every moment till my dying breath doing everything I can to protect you, I promise.”

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Into Your Arms. - Price x OC

|| [<- Part One] ||

pairing: F!OC: Kathleen "Brass" Moore x John Price words: 4.3K~ cw: smut, piv sex (unprotected), car sex, unsafe sexual practices, pussy slapping, flirting, insults, banter, sexual innuendos/intentions, love confessions.

a/n: yes this is a musical fic/chapter thing and it's inspired by Into Your Arms by Ava Max and Witt Lowry.

Yeah, I don't mean to make you wait, just the pressure's been gettin' heavy

I know if I fuck us up, we'll be over, done, you'll forget me

They dated for a solid 4 months. 4 months straight of him driving over to see her both at work and out of it. With some small missions in between, but constant time together nonetheless.

Showing up at the military hospital with coffee, or a pastry, or a meal to-go, kissing her on the lips, strong hands gripping at the extra fat on her thighs or her ass or her tummy.

Taking her on fancier dates, dinners, films, tea and sweets, little gifts here in there, letting her drag him around the shopping centre, and swipe his card on the machine before she could.

Ending up in her bed more often than not, sneaking out the next morning, meeting her roommate, Molly Cole, on many of those mornings, only to have a message in his phone by noon complaining about how Molly goaded her over him having spent the night over again.

Meeting her friends, her meeting his. Going out together for drinks at the pub, and clubbing, watching her dance and drink, feeling her body against his, seeing her curves in those dresses, watching how she came close to his height in those tall heels of hers...

Only to have to leave, sent on a mission. Many months long... Uncertain of how long just a "Until it's done" promise.

Their relationship was too carefree for a label or title... and too fresh for a 'I'll wait for you'.

It caused a difficult conversation.

One he hadn't expected to go the way it did.

I'm feelin' bad that I act this way, 'cause you let me

They call me king, but I know my queen will be there to check me

A breeching of feelings that they never had to before.

Standing in her bedroom, she was getting dressed, while he stood in the ensuite bathroom, looking in the mirror.

"I don't know when I'll be back." He announced from over his shoulder.

"That's fine." She replied as she fastened her bra.

"No, you don't understand." He grunted as he turned to look at her.

He watched her reach over to grab a black camisole from the hanger.

"What don't I understand?" She asked as she glanced at him before throwing the camisole over her body.

"That I don't know if and when I'll be back... and I don't want you to wait." He leaned against the doorway, looking at her.

"You severely overestimate how invested I am in this, John." Kathleen said as she pulled her brown hair off from the accidental tuck inside her camisole.

"So you won't care that I go?" John asked her as he crossed his arms.

"Were you expecting me to?" She chuckled as she crossed her own arms, mirroring him.

"And you won't miss me, huh?" He teased.

"Nope." She replied nonchalantly.

"Won't even worry that I might die out there?"

"I hope you do, actually."

John rolled his eyes and scoffed. "You're a horrible woman."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, war criminal-" She rolled her eyes. "I'm just saying, don't expect me to be waiting for you with open arms."

I'm out of my head, out of my mind

If you let me, I'll be out of my dress and into your arms tonight

Feels like I'm always waitin'

Kathleen is good at lying. Normally.

When John told her he had to go, and for the next three weeks, she acted as if she didn't care, as if she wouldn't and didn't miss him at all.

But it was slowly tearing her up from the inside out.

Whenever an SAS team was sent back and came into Tidworth for treatment, she'd stiffen up.

She'd run out to the helipad, rushing for the chopper and directing the other nurses and doctors and triage, and then she'd look around, amidst the chaos, wide-eyed and feral, as if expecting to find her boyfriend on a stretcher...

Was he even her boyfriend?

Had he ever been?

Two months came and went and it settled however. She started seeing other people, one-night stands (shameless ones), a couple of dates with blokes she found a bit too nice (boring)...

It was an earnest attempt at moving on.

Then he came back. She heard of it from others...

He didn't contact her for the first two weeks.

Acting like he was single, like he had been single this whole time.

Like she had been too, she guessed.

Yeah, I don't mean to make you wait or to contemplate about us

My ex, she loved to lie, guess that's why it's harder to trust

I been searchin' to find myself and not get too lost into lust

But she couldn't help but wonder if when he said 'don't wait for me', he really was just looking for an excuse not to continue dating her when he came back.

Then on the Saturday of week three, at 11 P.M., she received a text from him.

Big Bastard 🙄: "Can I come see you?"

And she let him.

She opened the door for him and he pushed his way inside, arms wrapped tight around her waist, a hand digging into her scalp, pressing her into the wall and claiming her mouth with a greedy kiss.

His tongue dug into her mouth like he was trying to stake claim on her from the inside out, pressing her body to his, her heavy breasts pushed tight against his muscular, nearly spilling out of her cami top as he groaned into her mouth.

They ended up tangled in each other's web again for two more months, having picked up right where they left off.

Going on dates again. Beach days, pool days, picnics, hikes, long drives, concerts and films.

Being all over each other, in each other's beds. In each other's arms.

Then he got another mission. Another 'don't know when I'll be back'.

Another 'I won't wait for you'.

But this time, when she said it, he saw through it.

He saw the look in her eyes. The exact opposite of the look of relief she had shown the day he came back into her life.

And he promised himself that when he did come back, he wouldn't reach out. That he wouldn't crawl his way back into her bed, her arms, her life.

If it was up to you now, you would be mine

I'm on the road more than I'm home, and still I find it's only you on my mind

He came back four months later. Early february.

And as he touched down and the helo lowered the back hatch, he stood there, with his arms crossed behind his back...

And he sought her out. As if expecting her to have somehow heard of him coming back, and would be there waiting.

When he left the base to hit up Hereford for a drink with his team, or his mates, he found himself missing the turn because the muscle memory to speed off to Tidworth was too much.

He'd be at the pub with his mates and look around, scanning the crowds of women with fake tans and skimpy dresses, as if look for those legs, that tummy, that set of tits.

You can't buy time with your money

And you love goin' to the beach whether it's cloudy or sunny

He'd go down to the shopping centre to get a new shirt or pants or shoes, and he'd pass by a window and take note of what in there he could buy to surprise her with.

He'd find a new restaurant she'd have wanted to try, a local shelter advertising a cat for adoption, her friends posting pictures with her on social media...

And he'd open her contact on his phone and his fingers would type a message...

Kat 😾 John: been thinking about you x

He couldn't reach out to her though, he couldn't. Not when she's that attached to him. Not when she needs him to stay, to be hers, to make promises and uphold them.

And you love drinkin' all your wine until it hurts in your tummy

You call me, "Honey, I'm tipsy and really all I want is for you to love me"

And then at 0200 hours, in one of the nights where he was out for a drink, his phone rang. He nearly jumped out of his seat when he saw her name on the screen.

"Yeah?" He greeted once he picked up, after having stepped out of the pub and standing in the dark and cold street under the pub awning.

"John..." She murmured, sounding whiny on the other side of the line.

"Kat..." He returned the greeting. "What's wrong?"

"I miss you." She whimpered into the line with a huff.

He knew that tone. It was the tone she always had when they'd go out together and she'd get pissed.

"We can't do this, Kat."

"John..." She whined.

Needy, soft, desperate to be held, to be kissed, to be fucked.

Fuck, how he missed her.

"Where are you?" He ended up asking her.

That's all it took. A drunk call, a messy drunk kiss as he helped her into bed, cuddling all night.

That's all it fucking took.

And then they ended up tangled in each other's web, once again.

Five months.

Dates, birthdays, a vacation overseas to Portugal, and sort of, but not really, pondering about moving in together.

And then he got called for another mission.

And as he sat her down again, this time, they breached it much differently than the other times.

Because this time, he had a timeline. Somewhere between six months and a year and a half.

"I'm not waiting for you." She told him directly, before he even had time to say anything.

He swore the ring box in his pocket was burning a hole through the fabric and onto his skin.

He just clenched his jaw and nodded. "That's your choice, then."

"It is." She replied. "Easier for the both of us."

"Right."

And so he went and, as assumed, he came back nine months later.

And he tried. He tried. He tried to fucking stay away. He really did...

For two fucking days after touching down.

But his hands itched to touch her, his arms longed to wrap around her, his body felt colt and alone in his twin bed in the barracks;

His ears itched to hear her mewl and croon as he worked her sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips;

His soul itched to argue with her, to watch and hear her fight him, to witness her preen when she delivered a devastating insult, only to be hit with one back, to watch the smirk on her lips and the shine in her eyes as they challenged each other;

He missed her sitting pretty in his passenger seat, he missed her pulling him by the arm in public like a dog on a lead, he missed her being vocal when someone pissed her off, he missed surprising her at work with food and drink, he missed being sent out at night because she ran out of fags, he missed keeping a change of clothes in her closet, and a spare key in his pocket, he missed the looks men would give him when he walked around with a beautiful woman like her hanging off his arm...

He missed the dulcets of her voice even when she raised it.

He missed the scent of her shampoo, and her perfume, and her lotion.

He missed the red lipstick stains she'd leave all over his face.

He missed her.

I know I need to tell you, I care before it's too late

Before someone steps to the plate

Before you decide not to wait

Before you decide not to chase

So, like a bloody coward, he showed up at her flat door at 2000 on a Saturday, finding Kathleen's roommate, Molly Cole.

"She's not home, John."

"Is she having a shift at the hospital? That's fine, I don't mind waiting all night if I have to."

"No, she's on a date."

He felt his blood run cold.

No way in fucking hell was he letting another man have Kathleen.

He didn't care how pathetic it made him look.

So, after getting the information of where she was and with whom, John took off after her.

The text pinged Kathleen's phone while she was halfway through talking to her date.

A nice bloke named Edward, with whom she'd been on dates a couple of times by now. He wasn't completely boring though she had yet to feel the spark.

Probably because every bloke she'd go on dates with between John leaving for deployment and coming back would always get compared to John.

Big Bastard 🙄: I'm outside. Leave him and let me take you home.

She glanced at it and only answered after asking for a moment from Edward, claiming it to be her roommate.

Kat 😾: I'm not leaving.

Big Bastard 🙄: Either you leave or I'll go in there and take you back myself.

Kat 😾: I'd love to see you try.

She didn't know what she was saying. Not really. She always loved to play games with John in the past, to taunt him and goad him and tease him until his buttons were pushed too far and he acted.

But they had never had a moment like this.

One where the door of the restaurant was pulled open by John, and he marched inside, still in uniform, right up to her table, eyes locked on her, like a predator zeroed in on its prey.

And she had no intentions of running away.

He came up to her and grabbed her by the forearm, yanking her up and out of her seat, causing the cutlery to rattle against the plate.

"What is this? What do you think you're doing?" Edward spoke up as he got up as well, as if he could somehow stop this from happening.

John shot a look at Edward, a glare that could make most men freeze in the spot, as he grabbed her coat and draped it over his free arm, same with her purse.

"Your date is over." John said bluntly as he stared at Edward. "She won't be calling you again."

Then he walked off, pushing Kathleen along toward the door, carrying her things for her, as he dragged her toward the car.

Kathleen was almost ashamed to admit how much she had enjoyed that display of caveman-like possession on his part.

Hell, it turned her on.

But that didn't mean that she would just lay down and take it.

No, John, despite everything, had no right to do this. To come waltzing back into her life as he so pleased, acting as if he had a claim to her.

And she was going to make sure he knew it.

As John got into the driver's seat after having helped her into the passenger's, and began driving off, she threw a hand at him and started hitting him in the arm.

"How bloody dare you?!" Kathleen raised her voice as she hit him repeatedly, fists slamming into his arm and shoulder in such a way that he knew in the morning he'd have bruises.

Heavy handed she always was. Just like him. She'd leave him bruises and bleeding, he'd leave her bruises and crying. After sex, that is.

"Stop that, Kat, I swear to God." John grunted as he moved his arm a bit to try and catch her hands and stop her from hitting him.

"What do you think you're doing, ruining my date like that and... kidnapping me like a... Neanderthal?" She continued scolding him and hitting him, dodging his attempts at grabbing her.

"I didn't kidnap you, shut your fucking gob for once, you cunt." He told her. "You're acting as if I threw you over my shoulder while you were kicking and screaming. I just walked ya out!"

"It doesn't matter! You have no fucking right to do that, I was enjoying myself!"

"Like hell you were!" John shouted as he suddenly hit the brakes, pulling the car over to the side of the secluded road they were on, and turning swiftly to face her. "Say that again."

Kathleen went quiet as she glared at him and him and her, chests rising and falling, breaths erratic.

"Go on. Say it again. Say you were enjoying yourself." He goaded her. "Say you were truly and whole-heartedly enjoying yourself. Say it and I'll take you back there."

She continued staring at him. She was normally a great liar, an excellent one, a great poker face, quick at coming up excuses...

And sure she had been enjoying herself... just fine during that date. Maybe... maybe not as much as she would with John. But better than the others.

But she knew she couldn't lie about it this time. So she just huffed and muttered a 'Fuck you, John'. Her brown eyes jumpy and erratic, flicking between his blue ones.

"Oh, is that how it is?" He asked her with a cocked brow as he pulled the break on the car and then leaned over the centre console toward her. "A 'fuck you' is what I get?"

"Yeah, it's what you get." She replied with a sharp nod, her brows furrowing in anger and frustration.

"Well, then, fuck you too, sweet'art." He replied as got right in her face, both of them staring deep into the other's eyes like they were seconds away from throwing fists.

"Oh, I already know everything about how you want me to go fuck myself, Jonathan." The brunette told him and, for once, her voice quivered for a moment.

Vulnerability. He never thought he'd see the day.

"I've never wanted that." John said while shaking his head. "You're the one that always says you're not going to wait for me and you don't care about me going on deployment, Kat. So who's really making who go fuck themselves?"

"I do that for you, you bloody fucking idiot." Kathleen spat in a vitriol tone as she glared at him. Then, she turned her face and looked away, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh what? Do you? And how's that?" John confronted her as he leaned his head over so he could get back in her line of sight. "By acting like you don't care about me? About us?"

Kathleen's head snapped toward him again, eyes widened. "Oh, so there's an 'us' now, is there?" She asked with nothing if not disbelief in her voice.

"There always was an us." John replied as he glared at her. "Never fucking wanted anyone else. And you can't tell me you've wanted anyone else either."

"Oh piss off. You think I don't know what you soldiers do when you're overseas?" She goaded and nodded upward in an act of challenge. "I'm an Army nurse, John, not a civvy."

"I won't lie and say I didn't get involved with other women overseas." John told her point blank. "Just like you can't day you didn't get involved with other men either." He raised his brows, which caused her her grimace and nod.

"But we both know what the fuck that was. And what it meant. And where it stands compared to us."

"Oh don't give me that bloody 'us' bullshit." She grumbled and rolled her eyes. "You don't like me all that much, and I don't like you all that much."

John reached forward and gripped her around the jaw, tugging her face toward him, before looking right into her eyes.

"I might not. And you might not." He nodded as he stared into her eyes. "But it drives me fucking mental to not have you with me. I think about you every fucking day."

Her lips parted for a moment as he continued. "I want you by my side and not some other wanker that you know doesn't do it for you the way I do." He warned her, his eyebrows setting low over his blue eyes, causing them to darken.

"You're such a bastard, you know that?" Kathleen told him, eyes widened and pupils blown as she glared into his eyes too.

"I know. And you're such a cunt." John grunted in reply.

They stared at each other silently for another moment before they both lunged forward and kissed, their hands finding their way amidst each other's hairs.

John slid his seat back as far as it could go and then lowered the backrest all the way until the headrest was flush against the backseat.

He flipped him and Kathleen over, breaking the kiss for just a moment in order to slot her beneath him on the driver's seat.

He parted her legs and rolled up the hem of her little black dress, exposing her backside and cunt to him again.

"Fucking slag, not even wearing underwear..." He grunted at the sight of her cunt, deliciously wet and glistening in the orange light provided by the street lamps above.

"Fuck you, John. I had a date." She complained.

"Of course, how could I forget... You never wear knickers for those, do ya? Never did with me." He goaded.

Slipping off her high heels, he tossed them haphazardly onto the backseat as he slotted one of her feet on the ledge of the driver's side window, the other over his shoulder.

"You're still in bloody uniform, you want to talk?" She pointed out, which earned her glistening cunt a smack from his calloused fingers. "Shut your gob."

Hissing, she rolled her eyes and lifted a hand at him, flipping him off, which caused him to growl under his breath and slap her pussy again, making her squirm beneath him.

"Bloody hell... I missed that cunt of yours..." He grunted as he ran his fingers over her folds affectionately, collecting some of the wetness before he slipped them into his mouth, for a taste of her, due to lack of a better position for it.

The groan that came from him after tasting her again was obscene. "How'd I go almost a whole year without tasting you?" He complained.

Kathleen bit her lip to hide that smirk that wanted to take over her lips, trying to act like she was still unbothered by it. By him.

"D'she miss me too, da'lin'?" John asked her with a cocked brow as he got busy undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants.

"No." Kathleen lied with a shrug. "Been keeping her awfully busy." She remarked nonchalantly.

"Right..." John said as he pulled down his boxer briefs, allowing for his hardened cock to spill out, too heavy to bounce back against his stomach, and instead hanging low, the head already brushing against her glistening cunt.

"But none of those knobheads you've been getting busy with are me, now, are they?" He teased.

And, before she could come up with a scathing, hurtful comment about how the others were better, which John could anticipate her doing, he plunged his cock balls deep into her in one swift motion, causing her to let out a startled, choked sound.

As he bottomed out inside her, feeling like he was home again, he leaned over her, pressing his weight forward on her leg and folding her over herself.

"That's it..." He grunted, pulling his hips back barely an inch before thrusting them forward again, causing a squeak to escape his woman's plump lips as his cock stretched her full.

"John..." She whined, one hand leaving a handprint on the glass window beside her, the other with the arm wrapped over the centre console of the car for support.

"Yeah, call my name." He demanded and hissed through his teeth before he pulled a few more inches back and then thrusted back in, his cock stretching her sinfully and his cock head pounding into her cervix.

Kathleen squirmed and gasped, feeling every inch of his thick cock push and pull across her gummy walls, his heavy balls beginning to steadily slap against her ass as he pounded into her.

One of his hands found its way around her neck, squeezing the sides as the other gripped the top of the driver's seat for support, allowing him to continue in his filthy avenue: taking her for all she's worth.

"Fuckin' ell, Katy..." He grunted as he looked down at her, the way her mouth hung open with desperate gasps and little whines escaping her.

Digging her nails into the leather cover of the console next to her, she whined in delight, already breathing heavy even if he wasn't actually squeezing her throat.

"I can never have enough of you." John grunted, his head rubbing against the plush interior ceiling of his car with each thrust of his.

"Look at me." He demanded, her brown eyes flittering to find his blue ones, the pupils wide and dark. "Keep your eyes on me..." He huffed.

Nodding, Kathleen continued making eye contact with John, though she was so overwhelmed by pleasure that she couldn't necessarily focus.

"Fuck... I swear... It's like you love when I call you a cunt... when we argue... You always get so fucking wet..." John grunted through clenched teeth and ragged breaths, his ears honing in on the filthy sound of his cock plunging into her dripping cunt.

"You'll be the bloody death of me, Kathleen..." He grunted as he leaned forward and caught her mouth with his, sucking her lips greedily.

Their tongues slipped out of their mouths and met in the middle, the both of them nearly drooling from the intense pleasure, eyes falling closed as they panted and moaned, muffling each other and trading saliva.

"I love you..." Kathleen moaned as she looked up into his eyes, which caused John to groan, eyes rolling back, before letting his head fall forward to hide his face in her neck.

"Fuck..." John moaned in her ear. "Tell me again... tell me you love me."

"I love you, John..." Kathleen whined, causing him to hiss again.

"Again."

"I love you..."

"Oh, fuck... I love you too..."

[hllywdwhre]

Dreamer, Queen, Prince - Prologue

Pairing: Daemyra x fem!OC

Warnings: Please check masterlist for warnings. This is an 18+ fic, MDNI

Masterlist

*97 AC

Prince Aegon kneeled next to Princess Adlyn Stark’s pale form with her hand in his. A fever had set in soon after the birth of their daughter, Viserea, and in three days it had taken her. Aegon couldn’t bring himself to leave his wife’s side yet, in disbelief at the sick twist of fate. They had convinced her father Ellard, the Lord of Winterfell, to allow them to be wed. They had traveled to King’s Landing and had a royal wedding. Less than two moons later Adlyn found out she was with child. Their happiness had lasted less than a year.

It was Aemma’s touch that broke him out of his trance and caused him to finally look away from his dead wife’s body. Behind her stood his older brother, Viserys, and each of them held a baby bundled in blankets. Viserys held his own daughter, Rhaenyra, wrapped in a blanket of Targaryen red and Arryn blue, while Aemma held Aegon’s daughter, Viserea, wrapped in a blanket of Targaryen red and Stark grey. Both of the blankets were gifts from the girls’ uncle Daemon.

“Brother, you have my deepest condolences,” Viserys said, his face showing just how truly sorry he was for his brother, “You must leave her side now. Viserea needs you.”

Aegon can read the true meaning behind his words. They need to take her body away now so that she can be prepared for the funeral. That was why they truly needed him to leave her side.

“I want her sent back to the North. She deserves to be buried next to the rest of her family. She wanted us to return there to raise our family after our grandsire passed, she would want to be buried there,” Aegon told them. He knew that traditionally a Targaryen’s partner received a dragon rider’s death, but traditionally one didn’t marry for love and instead married out of political advantage. Their marriage was not traditional.

“Of course, Aegon. Her wishes will be honored,” Aemma said, not bothering with any titles. She was one of the only in the Keep who did not use them unless absolutely necessary, and while most would see it as disrespectful, Aegon knew that Aemma meant it as a show of affection. She had always found titles to not be personable enough when speaking to those that she loved.

Aegon kissed Adlyn’s hand one last time and wiped away the rest of his tears before standing. He turned to face his brother and his brother’s wife and allowed them to guide him out of the room where he could hear the handmaidens covering her body.

“How is Viserea?” Aegon asked, forcing himself to focus on the last bit of Adlyn he had left.

“As strong as the woman she was named after,” Viserys said as Aemma gently handed the newborn girl to her father.

Aegon let the smallest smile crack across his face at the sight before him. While she possessed the silver hair and violet eyes of a Targaryen, Viserea’s face was that of her mother’s. As much as he wanted to return to the room they had just left and lay beside his wife’s body and waste away until he joined her, Aegon knew he could not allow himself to do so. He would not leave his daughter alone in the world without a parent.

“Are you ready to pick an egg to join her in the cradle?” Viserys asked his brother.

“I’m assuming you have already placed the gold one in Rhaenyra’s cradle?” Aegon asked, though he knew the answer. It was the egg Viserys had been watching for weeks, just waiting on Rhaenyra to arrive so he could choose it. Viserys let out a laugh and nodded,

“Tell me that it isn’t fitting for her,” Viserys said and stepped next to Aegon, letting him see his daughter’s face. Aegon couldn’t help but see what Viserys meant.

“Well, let us see if we can find one as fitting for my Viserea, shall we?”

Aegon and Viserys allowed the wet nurses to take their daughters and made their way to the dragon pit. Aegon looked over the eggs for only a couple minutes before deciding on one. It was a deep purple so dark it almost seemed black with the tips of each scale colored silver. He ordered for it to be placed in the cradle with Viserea and to only be removed when necessary.

6 months later he would find a purple dragon with small talons of silver curled on his daughter’s chest while a golden dragon slept soundly next to his niece.

*100 AC

“Dracarys,” Jaehaerys shouted, watching as Vermithor’s flames covered his grandson’s body where it lay on a pyre.

Rhaenyra and Viserea clung to each other in front of the small crowd gathered for Aegon’s funeral. Daemon stood directly behind the girls, gently resting one hand on each of their heads. At only three years of age, neither of them should have to be introduced to death, yet Viserea was saying goodbye to her father and Rhaenyra to one of her uncles. He hurt for them both. His brother had always been the nicest of them, truly encapsulating the lessons their grandsire had tried teaching them. Daemon always knew that Aegon would have made the best king out of his siblings, but it seemed the gods had a cruel sense of humor.

That night when it was time for the Princesses to go to bed, no one stood any chance of separating them. They refused to leave Viserea’s bed and, eventually, Aemma and Viserys allowed them to spend the night together tightly wrapped in the red and black silk blanket brought back by Daemon.

*102 AC

“Tessarion!” Viserea said, as firm as a five year-old’s voice could be.

“Syrax!” Rhaenyra said in the same commanding tone.

The two girls had finally chosen the names of their dragons and had spent the entire day away in the dragon pit teaching them their names. Rhaenyra had chosen Syrax, named after the Valyrian goddess of fruitfulness. Viserea had chosen Tessarion, after the goddess of prophecies.

The dragons perked up, looking at their respective riders and tilting their heads. The two girls let out giggles of excitement. The dragonkeeper grinned proudly at the two of them.

“Now that they know their names, try giving them a basic command. Princess Rhaenyra will tell them to sit and Princess Viserea can tell them to stand.” He said, allowing each of the girls to take a step forward to the dragons.

“Demās,” Rhaenyra said clearly, smiling as both of the small dragons sat down. Rhaenyra turned to look at Viserea.

“Iōrās,” Viserea said next, causing both of the dragons to stand up. Both turned to look at the master, “Can we, please?” She asked. Moments later two goats were brought into the pit on opposite sides.

As soon as each goat had each dragon’s attention, they were given the okay by the dragonkeeper to give the command.

“Dracarys!” Rhaenyra and Viserea both said in unison, watching as their dragons’ stream of fire left their mouths.

*103 AC

“I present King Viserys Targaryen, first of his name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”

Aemma, Rhaenyra, Viserea, and Daemon kneeled at the foot of the Iron Throne, facing the new King. Viserea and Rhaenyra both wore traditional Valyrian headpieces that Daemon had gotten made for both of them directly after King Jaehaerys had named Viserys his heir.

The first thing Viserys did as King was make Viserea a legal part of his and Aemma’s family. It was to be declared and documented that she was his daughter as much as Rhaenyra was and would receive the same treatment as though she was the King’s true born daughter. Viserea would grow up knowing who her parents truly were and would be taught about them and both sides of her family’s history, but by law, she was Viserys and Aemma’s daughter.

This declaration did not change the family dynamic that had been built over the past three years since Aegon’s passing. Rhaenyra and Viserea had been inseparable since birth; where one went, the other followed. Aemma had always been a mother figure in Viserea’s life. In fact, she had called Aemma her mother for the first time at four years old and it had taken a lot of delicate explaining to try and get Viserea to understand that Aemma was actually her aunt. It took even longer to calm the crying girl down when she was told that her mother had died. It was Rhaenyra that got her to calm down when she said that they could just “share” her mother. Viserea received the same treatment from Viserys that Rhaenyra did, even before Viserea’s own father had passed and in the three years between her father passing and Viserys being crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms.

*104 AC

The dream started out as many of Viserea’s did. Flashes of her and Rhaenyra with their dragons, flashes of them learning Valyrian, flashes of the couple memories she still had of her father. This one took a turn halfway through. The colors weren’t as clear; the sides of them blended together as if it was a painting left in the rain. A golden dragon flew in the sky far above King’s Landing and moment’s later a deep purple dragon with silver talons arose next to the golden. On the backs of the dragons were Rhaenyra and Viserea themselves. A dragon’s roar could be heard over the sound of wind and then Viserea was sitting upright in bed.

Viserea pulled on the large door to her chambers and came face-to-face with her own member of the King’s Guard, Ser Ryden Tyrell.

“Princess, what are you doing awake?” Ser Ryden asked, a kind look on his face.

“I need to see Rhaenyra,” Viserea told him politely, “It’s very important.”

“My Princess, the sun has not risen yet. Princess Rhaenyra is still asleep in her chambers,” Ser Ryden told her.

“I need to see her! We will ride our dragons today and I need to tell her,” Viserea said as if it was as common a piece of knowledge as any.

“How are you so sure of it, Princess?”

“I had a dream of it and when I woke up I heard Tessarion’s roar. I know it is a dream like Danys the Dreamer!” Viserea’s voice rose in volume and became more demanding, needing him to understand the urgency she felt.

Ser Ryden’s eyebrows raised in surprise at the Princess’ statement. He glanced around the hall and then back at Viserea,

“How about this, young Princess? We don't disturb anyone while they sleep and you go back to your chambers. I know about your dream and I will make sure you have your time with Syrax and Tessarion first thing in the morning so you can tell Princess Rhaenyra. If Princess Rhaenyra mounts Syrax and you mount Tessarion, you and I can go to the King together and tell him about it. Is that a good plan?”

Viserea pondered the idea for a moment before nodding and shaking his outstretched hand.

The next morning Viserea told Rhaenyra about the dream and Ser Ryden’s promise while they were escorted to the pit. Ser Rydan stood with the dragonkeeper, having already told him about Viserea’s dream and what he had promised her. After a review of all the commands they needed to know, the master allowed them to attempt to mount their dragons.

“Lykirī. Rȳbās. (Be calm. Listen.)” Viserea said as Rhaenyra did the same. Viserea approached Tessarion and gently stroked her neck, smiling as the dragon seemed to hum underneath her. Her hands shook on top of the dragon, but she did not let her nervousness show.

Viserea gripped the saddle of the dragon and began pulling herself up. She carefully placed her foot on the part of the wing they had been taught to use to help themselves mount and let out a yelp when Tessarion lifted the wing and helped her the rest of the way onto the saddle. Once she was seated, Viserea looked to Rhaenyra to find her already seated on Syrax. Both of the girls smiled widely at each other then turned their attention back to the dragons.

“Naejot. (Forward.)” Viserea commanded and she tightened her grip on the reins as Tessarion began moving from inside the dragon pit and out into the training yard. A breeze blew past them and a flash of golden was already making its way to the air. Wasting no more time, Viserea gave one last command,

“Sōvēs, Tessarion. (Fly.)”

Within moments, Tessarion was next to Syrax again and Rhaenyra and Viserea were cheering loudly. The two guided their dragons above King’s Landing, showing off as they did so. The small size of both them and their dragons made it so they could dip down into the larger spaces between buildings and be back above the rooftops in moments. They flew to the Red Keep all the way down to the Silk Streets then back to the pit again. When they finally landed, both girls wore great smiles and their dragons were chirping and clicking away happily.

After the dragons were taken care of and back where they belonged, Ser Ryden kept his promise and both the girls were brought to the King where Ser Ryden and Viserea told her uncle of the dream and then about how she and Rhaenyra had flown that very morning.

Viserea and Rhaenyra were now the youngest dragonriders in Westorosi history. Viserea was the first dreamer since Aegon the Conqueror.