#i had to hold myself to not laugh loud in the middle of my class while i was doing it

[lilies-are-azules]

I'M SORRY I COULDN'T RESIST 😭😭

[justjams2003]

The Saltiness of Flesh-3

Pairing: 1968!Elvis Presley x fem!reader

Summary: After Elvis' divorce fell through and the constant non-stop touring, he finally gets a moment alone on the beach. He finds a doll, shy and almost stand-offish and things suddenly bloom between them.

Warnings: Absolutely no hate to Priscilla, I love her so much, she is mother <3 In this story, they got engaged but broke up before they got married. Barely legal reader, flirting, talk of brattiness, spanking, manual drive (I know that sacres Americans) I would say grooming but she's 18 so not? 14-year age gap. Talk of being middle-class. Smut, fingering, masturbation.

Word count: 3k+ unedited

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @luvcsbn

Taglist: @marvelobsessed134 @atleastpleasetelephone @i5uckersblog @i-r-i-n-a-a @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @iwaizumisbtch @archerxnn @sloppiest-of-jos @indiatuck @gatheraheart @that-hotdog @toebeansforbreakfast

Part 1 - Part 2

Brown eyes, wide and big peering up at him, nervously, shyly, wiping off her mouth with a napkin. Her pink tongue darting out to taste the barbeque sauce left on her lips. The burger looked almost impossible for a little thing like her to finish, but she did. He should've expected it from a country girl like her. Now she sits, idly sucking up the last bits of milkshake. 

"How haven't you been snatched up yet?" Elvis says it out loud and he scolds himself for it, but he just has to know. A cute thing, so eager to be told what to do, any man should be eager to take her. "18 years old and this is my first date...if this is a date...?" A chuckle, or is it a sigh? Or is it both? The sound falls from his lips, his brows pulling together almost in sympathy. 

His hands reach out, grasping the small one clenching the milkshake glass. She doesn’t even know how much any girl would skin someone for this chance. "Oh darlin'...of course it's ah date. Why else would I be all over yah like I am?" A shy shrug, so uncertain. "Uh wouldn' know, I haven' ever even held hands with ah boy." His eyes flash down to his hand holding hers. He's the first, her innocence too much for him. 

"Yah serious? Yah ain't jokin' with me now?" He asks, sitting up straighter, as if he needs a better angle to address the situation. "I ain' jokin'. I'm serious." And the way her southern tongue struggles with the words makes it just so much better. As if she wants to sound all big but her mouth just won't let her. "No boy at school ever see how pretty yah are?" 

A gulp, as if she's mesmerized. A shy smile, "No boy..." She confirms for him. "An' you ain't ever even kissed ah boy? At your big girl age?" Cheeks red and her tongue moves before she can even think about what it's doing. "I ain't even even touched-" and then her mind catches up and quickly shuts her mouth. But he heard it and he needs her with everything in him to confirm what he thinks she's gonna say. 

"Haven't ever what, yittle one? Can't leave me hangin' like that." He makes sure to use the nickname that makes her pink like a peach. She bites her lip, scolding herself for ever saying anything. "My mama says I'm too young for that typa thing anyways." He says, his eyes go hard and with one look forces her to say what she was going to say. 

"I haven't ever even touched myself before..." A guttural groan of such utter revelation comes from deep his belly up and out his mouth. He smiled, wider than he ever has before, he's sure of it. "Sweet girl...did I hear yah right? Ain't never touched yourself before?" Her cheeks go bright red and she hides her little face from him. 

A shrug and then a peak through her fingers. "Yeah...I don' wanna sin." He can't help but laugh. Of course he had to expect it. A sweet innocent girl like her, from the most religiously strict state on the map had to be completely and utterly brainwashed. Manners instilled from the very beginning of her life. Everything bodily from a human has to be such an utter sin. Unaccepted to even look with lust. That must be why she's so easily flustered.  

"Oh, yittle one...it's not a sin tah touch yourself. Yah ain't gon' go tah hell for it." She gives him this blank look like the words he says just won't enter her head. "The pleasure of the body is only meant for reproduction.” She quotes her bible scripture. Elvis can imagine her on her knees every night before bed. Her little hands clutches, head bowed. 

He’s certain he could so easily get her in that position for him. With her mouth open instead of shut. Begging to him, he’ll guide her. Show her the wonders of the human body. “I promise yah, sweet girl, I read my bible, I go tah church same as yah do. But I’m older an’ wiser now aren’t I? I know, I talk tah my preacher. He tells me it ain’t a sin.” 

Pudgy bottom lip stuck between front teeth. Fawn eyes slightly droop showing thoughts filled with things unholy and unbecoming of a religious little girl like her. “I couldn’t possibly.” She mumbles, shaking her head, it’s as if the whole restaurant is closing in on her and she can’t run from him, this conversation, or her mind. 

“An’ why not? I promise yah that He won't smite yah down if yah enjoy yourself a little. In fact, my preacher tells me, lovin’ your body, brings yah closer tah Him. No need tah be so shy about it. Everyone does it, even the pastor.” He tries to course her, convince her, corrupt her. Pull her from this little bubble she lives in and make her a part of his world. 

Her eyes go from him, down to the plastic table. Picking at the peeling laminate, working through it in her mind. “You’re a big girl now, girl. Yah gotta do what big girls do.” He knew well what he was doing. Elvis knows she’s away from her Mama and Papa, he knows she ain’t never had to make a real choice in her life. They chose her school, in turn her friends. 

Now, she’s all alone in California, in with a guy much older than her. Elvis knows she misses her Papa, she sees his dominating commanding nature in him and craves for it. For the guiding hand. Do just about anything he’d ask, if he really did ask. “I don’t even know how.” Her lips part, her sheep’s eyes peer through her long little lashes. 

That iconic Elvis grin crawls across his lips. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with not knownin’ yet. You’re just a small girl in any case, aren’t yah?” He leans forward, taking her hands. He caresses over the knuckles. “That’s why yah have me, baby. Someone a yittle older, a yittle wiser, huh?” 

When you’re around someone like Elvis Presley, when he grins, you grin. Even if slight, she does smile. She’s seen sound of music, one of the only movies approved by her strict parents. She knows, “Sixteen Going On Seventeen.” Her tongue darts out, licking over her lips with she sings slightly.    

“You need someone older and wiser. Telling you what to do~” She recites the lyrics to him, he grins, shifting in his seat. Scootching closer, hell, he’s upset at the table for being in between them. He looks so giddy hearing her sing. “Yeah, exactly like that, baby. Yah get it now.” Then he reaches out, his thumb gliding over her lips, wiping off some sauces. 

His thumb goes back to his mouth, licking it. Tasting the saltiness of his skin, his eyes seeing the way she wriggles in her seat. “Will yah let me help yah, baby?” He asks and then shakes his head, knowing that he shouldn’t even give her the choice. “I’ll help yah, yittle one.” He lets go of her, his hips buck forward as he digs out his wallet. 

He throws some cash on the table. The girl’s eyes go wide, she’d never seen that much cash in her life. He stands up, grabbing her by the arm. There’s no time to gawk, no time to wait. A new play thing, something so exciting for him. A break from his usual every day in life. Her legs drag behind him, struggling to keep up with him. 

“Sit down, girl.” He shoves his own blazer jacket off, throwing it onto the nearest chair. He then realises his tone when she doesn’t move. His hand rests on her lower back, slightly pushing her towards the bed. “Right there, on the edge of the bed, sweet girl.” She does comply, shuffling forward and sitting down like he asked. 

Her pink church dress puffs out around her. The leather jacket contrasts the pink so harshly, so gorgeously. She fiddles with the little frills of the dress. Elvis crouches down in front of her, on his hunches. He looks up at her, his large hands resting on her knees. She can hear his breathing and it feels like he’s eating her alive. 

Elvis’ hands slide under the hem of the dress. Warm against cold. Her skin is tan like his, used to spending all that time in the sun on her farm. Not used to the luxuries of an air conditioner. Her breathing hitches, her teeth cage her lower lip. The sound comparable to a growl comes from his throat. 

“Stop doin’ that.” His one hand reaches up, pulling her lip from her teeth. “Stop it. If ya keep doin’ that I’m gonna have tuh kiss yah, yittle one.” Again, she sucks in breath at the thought of that. He grins slightly, his eyebrows raise. “Yah like that? Yah like the idea o’ me kissin’ yah?” A laugh threatens to come from him.  

She’s so sweet, really. Wanting to be kissed but too scared to say it. Or too innocent to even know it. He raises himself, his face close to hers. So close, one lean forward and their lips would touch. He threatens it, toying with her like this. He knows how a girl idolizes their first kiss and he wants to be the one to make those dreams come true. 

But now isn’t the time that that’ll happen. He stands up, his crotch now replacing where his face was. She can feel the coldness of his rings when his hand slides under the leather jacket wrapped around her shoulders. “Mind if I...?” He doesn’t say it, he knows if he says it, it’s all too real for her. This should stay a haze, a fantasy in her mind. He knows she’d be far too scared of the reality of what’s really happening. 

A nod, too far from there in the mind. He makes sure his movements are slow, like a scared little deer. Any sudden jerk might break this daze she’s in. He shoves the jacket to the side, it slides off the bed. His large hands grasp at her back, keeping her still as his other hand gently slides down the zipper. The dress opens and her guides it off her shoulders. 

Then lower, guiding her to lift her little bum, then letting it pool down on the floor. She blushes, looking away. “Ah-ah-ah, none of that now. I’m just’ teachin’ yah somethin’. Nothin’ tah be ashamed of now, my yittle lady.” He says, guiding her to look back at him. “Much better now, look at yah, so pretty,” he coos, softly caressing her cheek. 

Elvis then takes her by she shoulders, carefully guiding her so that she lays down. Her hair splaying out. He takes a pillow, carefully sliding it under her head. Then he just stands there, seeing her. The matching frilly white bra, panties and socks. Smooth skin, slight stretch marks from a young girl’s body settling after puberty. 

The little blonde hairs trailing from her belly button down, lower. Unkept curly hair, her mother likely forbade any grooming of that sort too. Wide hips that hid under the dungarees and church dress. And a waist that curves, like his own little porcelain doll. Her big round eyes looking up at him makes him think of a play thing even more. 

His breathing is heavy, yet controlled, effort into each thing he does. He hunches down again. His fingers hook under the pink frilly panties, her breath gets suck in her throat and he instantly notices. “It’s alright, baby. It’s okay, yittle one, you’re okay.” He coos, the cold air hits her when he slides the panties down. He holds them up for her to see. 

“Isn’t that the cutest little thang?” She’s bright red and goes even redder when he takes a deep sniff. “God, baby, yah smell divine.” She’s forced to remember how much he distastes it when she hides from him when his lip pulls up disgust when her hands come up. He shoves the panty into his back pocket. Then, in one swift motion, he pins her hands down by her sides. 

“What’d I day? Huh?” He grips her hands tighter, grabbing her attention. “Tell me. What did I tell yah?” She whimpers, her voice shaky from shame. “No hidin’. Nothin’ tah be ashamed o’.” He nods along with her as she speaks. “Come on now, I thought yah were a good girl? I thought yah’d do as I say.” Fear spawns behind her eyes and Elvis revels in it. 

She nods her head frantically. “I am. I am good.” Everything in her, from the way she was raised, her faith and her heart commands her to be obedient. To follow instructions from her elders well. From a man, well. And he is both of those. And if she knew the authority he held, she’d likely be even more submissive than now. 

“Are yah? Prove it tah me. Do as I say.” He challenges her, raising his brows as if he doesn’t believe that she would. But he knows he picked just the right girl. “I will. I will.” Still so eager to please, frantic that he won’t give her the attention she craves so far from her parents. “Good...good...” He slowly lets go of her hands. 

His grip holds her like a prize, a stack of books, like you would a burger that you’re ready to stuff into your mouth and simply devour. Elvis’ thumbs caress the skin, his breathe tickles her. “I’m gonna show you what tah do then I want yah tah copy me alright?” Restless to gratify she replies with a: “Yes, sir.” He can’t do it anymore. He just can’t tease her like this. He needs her, now. 

Thumb traces down, hand slides down her slit. She gasps, her hips snapping up. His other hand holds her down. Then his thumb presses against her sensitive nub. She huffs air out, trying to comprehend this new experience. He makes small circles, absolutely loving the noises that escape her. Elvis takes in just how soaked she is for him and gladly slides a finger inside her. 

She’s so wet and warm and tight around his finger. She whines, clenching around his finger and sucking him in deeper. “You’re so tight, baby, oh lord forgive me.” He groans, beginning to pump into her. She mewls and gasps and makes just about any noise she can. Then, he pulls out, leaving her gaping and feeling empty. 

He grins, licking his finger clean. “Fuck, sweet girl, yah taste so fuckin’ good.” She blushes, whining and her thighs rub together. She’s looking for that friction again. “No, youngin’, it’s your turn now.” He takes her hand, guiding it down to her fur. “Do it, yittle one, jus’ like I showed you.” The girl huffs, small, slender hands copying the motions of Elvis. 

“There yah go, darlin’. See, now, doesn’t that feel good?” She can only reply with gasps and whimpers. “Does that feel like a sin to you?” He grins, knowing that her body is rewriting the brainwash of the south. Screaming at her that this is good and it doesn’t matter what anyone but Elvis says. “It does~ Feels so good~” 

Elvis’ grin can’t be wiped away. He watches as her fingers, on instinct, slide inside herself. Just like he did. She’s chasing that high and she’s at her most vulnerable now. He leans down, thumbs hooking under her bra, lifting it so that her pink little nips spring free. He flicks against the hard bud, he gasps and he chuckles. 

“So good, huh?” He knows the first time that edge comes so quickly. The body experiencing this amount of pleasure for the first time, is quick to crumble. “Say you’ll be mine, youngin’. Say it. I know you want to. Don’t fight it.” He whispers in her ear, his tongue dragging from her collarbone all the way up. He lowers his hips, grinding himself against her wiggling stomach. 

She replies with a gulp. “E-elvis. S-somethin's wrong. Somethin’s happenin’.” She whispers, her voice shaky. He looks down, her fingers so quick that it makes a lewd wet noise. “That’s gon’ happen, baby, just let it. You’ll see, feel so good, jus’ keep goin’ like this.” He guides her through it, making her even more dizzy when his lips attach to her nipple. 

“I-ah~” She gasps, moaning as her body spasms, shaking, the pleasure wracks through her. Like boiling water burning your skin. So quick and sudden and then it spreads all through you. Everywhere, nothing but over sensitive pleasure. “Say it, I wanna hear yah say it.” He coaxes her, knowing nothing will make sense now. Her brows furrow, “Huh?” 

He pretends to be upset that she doesn’t know, convincing her that she should. “Come on, yah said yah’d be mine. Don’t change your mind now. Not after what I just taught yah.” He makes sure to scold her and not comfort her, like she really needs now. So needy to keep him happy and to be held. “No, no, I wouldn’t- I-I'll be yours, Elvis, I’ll be yours.” 

He grins, big and wide and peppers her face with kisses. “That’s my good girl, such a good little girl, aren’t yah? Jus’ for me?” She preens under his praise, a dazed smile overcoming her. “Jus’ for you.” He coos, coddling her close against his body as he lies down next to her. 

“My poor baby, mus’ be so tired, aren’t yah?” A mumble, always agreeing with him. “I know, I know, poor girl. A lot for a youngin’ like yah?” He soothes, caressing her hair, peppering kisses, hugging her close, overwhelming her with him and him only. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay yittle one. Yah can sleep, I’ll watch over yah, baby. Yah can sleep in my arms.”  

And like always, she does what Elvis asks of her. And as Elvis grins, holding his new pet close, he can’t help but notice how that sea saltiness lingers on his tongue...

The End?

[starlightsuffered]

My Boyfriend’s Sister’s Boyfriend

Warnings - panic attack

I woke up with a pounding headache to my ring tone. I looked at my phone to see it was my mother. I groaned as I answered.

"Hey," I croaked.

"I have wonderful news!" She squealed. Her shrill excitement hurt my ears.

"Not so loud please," I said.

"Sorry, it's just so amazing. You have to promise not to tell," she requested.

"I promise," I said, laying back down and throwing an arm over my eyes.

"Dillon is going to propose, he got a ring!" I sat up immediately. Marriage? He thought we were marriage material? I felt like I couldn't catch my breath.

"I can't wait. My best friend will be my co-mother-in-law! We'll be together at all the family gatherings. Your father is so excited. "

My heart was going a mile a minute. I was panting. My mother kept going on and on.

"I've got to go," I choked out. I'd let her think I was overwhelmed with emotion, which in a way I was. The emotion wasn't happiness though.

My breath was coming in short bursts. My vision was blurring. I couldn't breath! Panic was washing over me. I hugged myself, rocking back and forth. This couldn't happen. I wasn't ready, I didn't even want to, but I'd be disappointing everyone. I'd gone out with him out of convenience. I was still with him out of an urge to not disappoint him and my family. What was I going to do?

The panic attack lasted until I began to dig my nails into my palm to ground myself. I would just find a way to avoid it. I wonder how my mother knew?

My thoughts wandered to Timothée. Each time I'd tried to picture walking down an aisle to Dillon, Timothée ended up being there instead. Last night had changed me. I didn't think I was a person who fantasized about cheating, I didn't think I was a person who believed in love at first sight. This was all so surreal.

I needed to get my mind off of this. I went to get ready. I headed out the door. I didn't quite know what I was going to do. I drove down to a cute section of the city that had up fairy lights. There was always stuff to do around here.

'Cooking class' was advertised on a sign. Apparently some famousish chef was from here and she'd come to offer classes around town for only $50. It sounded like fun, and I needed to advance my knowledge anyway, I usually made the same meals over and over.

I went in and paid. They told me where to go, and I made my way to the room. The teacher was a middle aged lady with a kind smile.

"I'm so glad you joined, we have someone in need of a partner."

I nearly dropped my bag when I saw who was sitting at the table with a vacant seat. Timothée also seemed surprised to see me. I walked over, as if I were in a dream.

"Hi," I said sheepishly.

"What are the odds of this?" He asked with a chuckle.

"Slim to none," I replied. It seemed the chances of everything that involved him were slim to none

"You're supposed to put on an apron," he said, gesturing to a pile. I took one off the pile and slipped it over my head. I sensed someone was near me and I saw Timothée had come over.

"Let me tie it for you," he said with a smile. We both seemed to know what this meant. It was an unneeded gesture. We just wanted an excuse to touch one another.

I turned around slowly. I felt his fingers brush my back as he tied my apron. I had to hold back a shudder.

I turned around and faced him. We held eye contact until the teacher gave us instructions. It was obvious Timothée and I were out of our league. I'd hoped this would be a starter dish, but it was elaborate.

"I think I put in too much salt," Timothée giggled.

"Maybe she'll force you to eat the whole thing as a punishment," I whispered back.

"Students, why are we laughing? The art of measuring is no laughing matter," the teacher said and Timothée and I were struggling to hold in our laughter. The teacher was very self absorbed, and took this whole thing way to seriously. We were also pretty sure she was faking her accent.

"The art of measuring," Timothée mocked under his breath, in an exaggerated accent. I could barely hold it in.

"Your laugh is cute," he said, and I felt my cheeks heat.

"Yours is dorky, but in a good way," I told him. He pretended to be offended.

"You're telling me, Timothée Chalamet, star of the little theater down the road, coach of elementary soccer, that his laugh is dorky?" He asked.

"Sorry, I didn't know I was dealing with such an accomplished celebrity," I laughed.

"Soon, I'm going to add master chef to the list," he said, pointing to his absolutely tragic looking dish.

"A well deserved title in deed," I chuckled.

After a couple minutes of silence, I asked him a question.

"Do you really do plays near here?" I asked.

"Yeah, there's a little theater like a mile away, I audition for most of their stuff."

"Anything showing right now," I asked.

"No, but we're prepping. In like a week we're premiering with Willy Wonka, I'm Wonka," he told me.

"You could-" he said at the same time I said "Could I."

"You go first," he said generously.

"I was going ask if I could come or if that would be weird," I said.

"I was just going to say you could come if you wanted. I'd love to have you there," he said excitedly.

"It'll be weird for Willy Wonka to be hot, I watched the old one all the time as a kid," I said off-handedly.

"Ohh?" He asked, innuendo laced in his tone. I realized what I had said.

"So you think I'm hot?" He said, and he knew it was dangerous. He knew the answer and this was worrisome territory. I looked at him and his eyes were dark. I bit my lip, and I watched as his eyes dropped to my lips.

"I think-"

I was saved from answering by the teacher telling us to bring up our final product. I grabbed my dish, moving to the front quickly, to avoid Timothée's questioning eyes.

I got a better assessment than Timothée did. The teacher looked absolutely disgusted by his dish. She told him he was hopeless. We were now outside in the heat of the setting Sun, laughing about it over ice cream.

"You've got some on your lip," he said suddenly, and lifted his thumb to wipe it off. I was transfixed for a moment as I looked at him. The setting Sun cast him in a warm glow, he was practically luminous. I felt my heart beat quicken. It felt like I'd known him years. It also felt like my his heart was a magnet for mine, so attracted to its mate that it nearly pulled itself from my chest.

"I should probably be going," he said, having held his thumb to my lips for far too long.

"Alright," I said. This was the hardest part, the goodbye, because we knew neither of us wanted to say goodbye. We wanted to stay with each other forever if possible. Why did we have to meet at this point in our lives?

[ticklish-n-stuff]

Cure for writer's block

So uhh have a rare pair cause I love them and my fingers slipped and I wrote this

But fr DaiChuRanPoe am I rite????

I'm done with college for like... 2 weeks until I start summer class lol. Am struggling myself with writing and motivation so I'll be p slow

Yea thats ab it, enjoy<3

___________________________________________

Chuuya x Poe (+ Dazai and Ranpo) (romantic)

Lee: Chuuya

Ler: Poe

Warnings: Tickles! Gey!

___________________________________________

Poe let out a frustrated sigh, pen swiveling across his fingers before being carelessly dropped on the desk. This caught Chuuya’s attention. “Something wrong?”

“No, I’m just—”

“Stuck?”

Poe let out a tired sigh “Yeah… My head keeps pulling a blank on this next section”

“Hmm… mind if I take a look?”

“I was hoping to show you once it was done, but if you don’t mind…”

“Not at all! I’m happy to be of service” Chuuya smiled, causing Poe to return one out of gratitude.

Fancy hat made his way over to his lover’s lap and took the manuscript, starting to read what Poe had written so far.

This was the first time Chuuya read one of his drafts. Ranpo has read countless of them, despite the author wanting to write something to finally stump him. Even Dazai has snooped at his work, but not Chuuya. It felt… flustering? His face surely felt warm.

Poe’s anxious thoughts started to scramble in his head over Chuuya’s reaction. What would he think? What would he say? What if he didn’t like it?! He had an arm around the ginger’s middle, his fingers lightly tapping along the other’s waist as a way to release the nervous jitters.

“Hngh—” Chuuya’s breath hitched from the touch. It didn’t go unnoticed by the author, if anything, Poe had a look of amusement on his face.

He let out a quiet chuckle and asked “Ticklish, love?”

“Of course not!” The ginger spat out quickly in a defensive manner, his own cheeks starting to flare up. “Now let me read” he grumbled, returning his attention to the papers at hand.

Poe tried holding back a laugh, instead letting out a snort at the situation at hand. Who would’ve thought that his mafioso of a boyfriend would be adorably sensitive? He leaned towards Chuuya’s neck and started planting soft kisses along the skin, while his hand lightly skittered over the shorter male’s abdomen.

“Pff- Stahahap it!” Chuuya let out an involuntary laugh, squirming around from the ticklish touch.

The author grinned at the sound, now using both hands to attack at the ginger’s tummy and sides as his lips brushed close to his ear. “Didn’t know my writing was that funny~”

“Gohohod! You teheheasy bastard! You’re just as bahahad as that stupid Dahazai!” Chuuya threw his head back against Poe’s chest, all while giggling like a little boy.

“Oh? I’m a teasing bastard now?” Poe gave off a devious smirk. “Should I tell Dazai about how cute and sensitive you are?~” he asked with a teasing tone, his fingertips tracing up and down the ginger’s sides.

“NO!” I’ll kihihill you!” Chuuya tried seeming all serious, but everytime he spoke up, he’d dissolve into a fit of giggles all over again.

“I dunno… you’re gonna have to convince me not to tell him~” Poe’s fingers trailed up until he reached his ribs, giving them a light squeeze.

“EEP!” Chuuya’s body jerked violently, almost flinging off of Poe if it weren’t for his grip. “I’ll doho anything!”.

Normally Chuuya would never give in so easily, but any sense of confidence would go out the window once Dazai was involved. Not that he’d admit to that out loud.

Poe let out a soft hum, pretending to think about it. “Anything, hmm?” Another amused snort escaped him as the ginger nodded his head furiously. “I think I know…~” with that, he gently lifted Chuuya’s arms above his head and dug his wiggly fingers against the exposed skin of his armpits.

“GYAH!!! EDDIEEEEHEHEHEHE!” poor Chuuya shrieked and cackled at the top of his lungs. His face beet red and hair all tussled. Poe was having a blast seeing his hotheaded boyfriend laughing up a storm.

“What a perfect way to wait out writer’s block. You’ve been of much help~” Poe teased, letting out a chuckle of his own as he kept tickling Chuuya to pieces. Despite being shorter, they both know that Chuuya has the strength to escape whenever he wants, but we won’t mention that.

Outside of Poe’s study, there’s a pair of brown and green eyes watching the scene go down. Snickering to themselves as they take pictures and recordings, mainly Dazai as a way to blackmail Chuuya later on, but for now he’ll let the two have their fun.

___________________________________________

The bsd brainrot is p bad. Got stormbringer and first vol of age 15 so maybe more bsd fics?? 👀

[pagemasters]

Fantasies He…

BABY’S FIRST FIC!!!

Author’s notes: So after reading so many for years I thought maybe it’s my turn to take a crack at it. There’s I think 3 parts to this, with the first one having basically no smut and mostly platonic fluff between Az and Feyre, but part 3? Can’t say the same thing for the middle Archeron sister lmao

I swear this started out to be one part but the story told me otherwise, part 2 is fully drafted I’m just revising and editing

I’m a very visual person, so enjoy the floor plan of the nursery and a rough sketch of what I think her mural would be and the star! I am a painter if it wasn’t obvious so the whole portion on starfall stars is actually based on how Bob Ross paints his northern lights, just with modifications BUT I haven’t tried it myself for this specific purpose. Also the colour of Feyre and Rhys’s stars are the colours of the first ones that hit them during Starfall btw! I love the platonic relationships between the inner circle and we don’t get enough of it

If you enjoyed it I would love u forever if you let me know!! :)

Ps. Omg dialogue is so difficult to make realistic but also in character, none of that “hey big brother” etc. shit you see in tv shows where you’re like who tf says that to their sibling ?? Ps.ps. I haven’t taken an English writing class for 5 years so if punctuation was wrong let’s pretend it wasn’t LMAO

I CANT FIGURE OUT HOW TO DO AO3 LINK BUT IT’S ON THERE WITH THE SAME USERNAME LOL SORRY

Summary:

Azriel spends the day with Feyre, only to get caught in the rain on the way home. Good thing the townhouse is empty. Or is it…

CHAPTER ONE: DAYDREAMING

The rain finally decided to make its appearance as Azriel stepped out of the River house. Taking a deep breath, he let the soothing scent wash over him as he relaxed his wings. 

The meeting with Rhys was short, just a weekly update on the goings around the other courts and allies, nothing that required the full inner circle to make an appearance. Something he knew after centuries of this work should be a good thing, but it doesn’t stop the pang in his chest at the missed opportunity of seeing her. 

Not that he didn’t try to catch a glimpse of her. He did take a walk through the beautiful home his brother had built for his mate after seeing him, the smell of cedar and masonry long since faded from the construction days; replaced with flowers and candles and the dinner his shadows whispered Nuala and Cerridwen were working on. The scent of paint lingered though, and he discovered the reason why as he got to the residential wing. His High Lady wasn’t in her studio, but he found her nonetheless with a brush in her tattooed hand. 

“I think you missed a spot.” Az said from the doorway, trying to repress his smile at her startled reaction. Even though Feyre and Rhys opted for doorways fashioned with wings in mind, he kept his drawn in tight, not wanting to risk smearing her paint as he stepped inside. 

“Rhys won’t let me use the step ladder without him holding it. And me. And the bump.” Feyre twisted to look up from her spot on the floor and smiled in greeting before lowering the brush to pat her stomach in emphasis. She gave her mate’s antics an affectionate eye roll and shake of her head before releasing a heavy sigh, glancing back at her work. 

“If I remember correctly,” Az teased, “you are prone to falling quite spectacularly.”

She let out an indignat squawk so loud he had to bite his lips to prevent laughing, her body spinning so fast to face him fully that paint ended up splattering from her brush to the white drop cloth. 

Their flying lessons had ceased for the most part since the war, so watching her fly into a tree or eat rocks wasn’t as common an occurrence— but that’s not to say that still doesn’t happen. Knowledge he happens to be privy to not just as her flight teacher, but as the spymaster, something she’s very aware of if the narrowing of her eyes and mouth hanging open are any indication. 

It’s hard not to notice the similarities between the sisters, when even with your eyes closed the cadence of their speech was also similar. But it was never so apparent between youngest and oldest Archeron as when Feyre’s eyes pinned him in place, the expression of mock outrage was so much like Nesta’s it was almost comical. 

“Ruuuude,” she said, drawing the word out in a whine with pouted lips, no doubt remembering the amount of face plants he’d witnessed when she first began to fly. “I see how you treat your High Lady, Shadowsinger. Just wait, it’s not too late for me to paint a little something in your bedroom.”

“And here I thought pouting and grumbling was beneath royalty, at least you can say you’re a tree hugger.”

She gave him a gesture that was certainly beneath royalty, and he didn’t hold back his chuckle this time. 

“What gave you that idea, have you even met Rhys?” 

“Oh trust me, you should’ve seen him when we were kids.” He said, grabbing her hands to help her stand. “He discovered in a book that while bat wings look identical to ours, the anatomy of their wing is labeled similar to that of the hand. So for them, their talons are their thumbs. After that, he took it upon himself to hang upside down in silent protest whenever he was mad, but didn’t want his mother to wash his mouth out with soap for swearing.”

“He did not.”

“Mhmm, until his faced turned purple.”

“And where were you and Cass for all this?” Feyre said through her giggling, a wide grin of unrestrained joy plastered on her face. 

“He couldn’t have done it alone, a thumbs down by yourself would look stupid.”

“Ah yes, because the three of you hanging upside down like overgrown bats isn’t ridiculous.” She cackled, “How long until he gave it up?”

“A few weeks. After Cassian passed out in the middle of camp and we all got broken capillaries on our faces. Still, a better alternative than the awful tasting soap in Illyria.” 

“What, as opposed to other tasting soap?” He just shrugged, smiling. 

Rhys’s mom’s reaction to warriors dragging them across the rocky ground home was as lively in his memory as she was when she berated them when her son fessed up. She was less thrilled to hear the real reason than Devlon was having passed out children strewn about the place, but she never did call them out on the lie they fed to Devlon about it being a dare when he came banging on their door. That night though when they were more lucid, she brought them on foot to one of the mountains surrounding their outpost and stood them at the opening of a cave. He still remembers the eyes he felt on them, the warning bells ringing from his shadows as she gestures her hands out and said, “If you want to act like bats, you can join them; or you can toughen up, learn how and when to pick battles and what hills are worth to dying on. Because there will be more people who will piss you off, but this is not an option when you’re leading armies. So,” her hazel eyes meeting each of theirs, “What will it be? Do you want to stay here or take the soap and fly right on home.” Needless to say they bolted home with the taste of pine tar suds coating their mouths like a film no amount of water could rid them of the taste. He could still feel the eyes of whatever was in that cave the entire way home, but thank the cauldron he could fly at that point. His heart ached at the memory of the female, the one he knew picked a low cave for him to make her point, just in case. The one his shadows caught a few times after that upside down on the couch after a rough day when she thought she was alone. 

As Feyre’s amusement continued with eyes glazed over—no doubt having a silent conversation with Rhys—Az cleared his throat, his shadows pulling back as he gestured to their surroundings and asked, “So how’s the nursery coming along?” 

“It’s going great,” she replied after a moment, her laughter subsiding as she surveyed the mural.  “I know it’s not geographically correct, and that Starfall and the time when our courts insignia’s stars show don’t overlap, but I couldn’t not include them. I want  him and any possible future child to see the night court as I did when I first fell in love with it and their dad.” 

Indeed, while he knew Rhys was already in love with her, he got to watch Feyre love him back as much as he deserved in real time the longer she was here. And the way she captured the land they all loved so much here was… breathtaking. 

On the wall that held the doorway he just stepped through lay the mountain with the moonstone palace atop it. The first place she saw here. They both knew where the doors to Hewn city rest below, but it was covered by the landscape. As if there were no room for nightmares in this room, even if it was a court this babe may one day rule. 

“I have no idea how you made that mountain so realistic,” he said to her in awe, pointing to the painting adjacent to the wall they just looked at. 

“The crib is going to go right below it when the rooms done. I want it to watch over him.” She replied almost reverently as she looked up. 

The mountain was the tallest of the three she painted, and it looked just as it had on his trek up there with his brothers during the rite. Physically it was practically stone for stone, those three stars lines up overhead perfectly, but the energy differed. Instead of the cold and foreboding thing he remembered on the way up, it seemed almost… euphoric? As if the wild joy and love Rhysand, Cassian and he felt as they made their way to the top and won seeped its way onto the painting. Like the unyielding strength from that mountain and what it brought out of them would guide and protect him, just like it did for the three winged dots surrounding the monolith at the tip. How that was even possible was beyond him. 

He could barely tear his gaze away, but snickered as he saw the tiny but recognizable building at the base of it to the right. “The cabin, huh?”

“Of course, gotta prep him for one day kicking all of your asses during your snowball fight.” She added, blushing. “I put few snowballs flying just for good luck.”

Though he knew the other reason the cabin was significant to Feyre and Rhys, the thought of his future nephew joining their game warmed him. But It did make trying not to focus on other non-winged and winged babies that could one day join in the snowball fight impossible. Children have always been an abstract idea, a figment he knew existed but besides Rhys’s sister, he wasn’t around. And after what happened to her… He thought for a long time he would never have one of his own, but that sentiment start to change in recent years. He could avoid it most days though, but being surrounded by the baby stuff made the hypothetical harder to ignore. The thoughts on if he’d have his own little ones propped on his hip and curled into his chest with their chubby cheeks and inquisitive eyes. If they would have his hazel or her golden brown ones, or something different if they adopted. Would their little hands or clothes or hair get caught in the scales of his armour just like hers did when he took her on her first flight to the town house from the House of Wind, when he held her for the first time. Would Elain… Az paused, stopping that train of thought before it just twisted the knife even further, seeing more things he can’t have. 

His shadows began to circle him, and if Feyre noticed she politely didn’t comment on it before pointing out what she was working on when he interrupted her. 

To the right of the cabin and right were she was sat Velaris, and it really did look like a city of starlight with how she painted the glowing nightscape. He could make out the four markets that were the heart of the city, with extra emphasis on where the town house sat along with the new residence they were currently in. Bisecting through it all, the Sidra River looked so realistic he could probably skip a rock across its surface. It flowed like a living thing, reflecting the lights from the buildings on its edge and even the stars above. Two of which weren’t normal stars. 

Above the city proper and even the flat topped mountain that held the House of Wind was the beginnings of starfall. 

“How-“Azriel could barely get out, “how is this even possible?”

“Perks of now being immortal; plenty of time to practice. And having a husband with wings who takes you to get aerial views.” She simply said gesturing to their city, as if she didn’t create magic with swipes of colours. 

“The green one is mine, and the light blue one is Rhys’s. I’m planning to get everyone to add their own star to the wall.” Now looking him, she smirked. “Which means you came at a perfect time, Shadowsinger. Your turn.”

He gave her an unbelieving expression, shadows instantly vanishing. “You can’t be serious.”

Her eyes twinkled with mischief, “if I trust Cassian with a paintbrush, you’ll be fine. He’s coming by in a few days when he gets a free moment, Nesta and her two friends are keeping him busy with training.” Nesta is keeping him busy with more than just that, it’s a wonder he even has energy to train them. 

But looking at Rhysand’s mate, Azriel saw her glow in a way different from her powers. Feyre radiated joy as her hand cradled her stomach despite barely showing, not caring about paint getting on her already splattered clothes. For his brother, for the friend beside him and his nephew in her womb, he removed his jacket and let out a resounding sigh in defeat. “What do you need me to do?” 

So Feyre excitedly brought him over to her pile of paint tubes on the drop cloth. She grabbed the white and as he selected the colour phthalo blue she went off to prep the clean, dry brushes and a fresh palette for him. 

“So pick the area of the sky you want your star to be, I’d like to keep the inner circle’s additions mostly above Velaris, but I’ll add tiny ones fading out once everyone is done. Amren and Mor are away, Cass is busy and who knows if or when Nesta would want to contribute. That means besides Rhys and I, you have the pick of the litter.”

“What about Elain?” He asked, trying to keep his voice and face as neutral as possible when she handed him a 3 inch brush already dipped in his blue. 

“I’ll drag her in here after dinner when she gets in from the garden. The colour of the sky is already dry which is the important part, so there’s no time constraint on when everyone adds theirs besides my due date.” She gave him a knowing smile which he dutifully ignored, along with the disappointment in his chest as she confirmed Elain wasn’t in. “Now I want you to cover a large area of where you generally want the shape of the star to go, it doesn’t have to be perfect but cover much more than you think you’d need to.”

He hesitates, “won’t this cover up your sky? It’s a dark colour.”

“Just trust me.”

He followed her instructions, cringing as his brush made contact with her beautiful wall and went over the faint background stars she had already done, but relaxed when he saw they were still partially visible. 

Az looked back at her, seeing his shadows lazily inspecting them, as if they wanted a part in the activity their master is occupied with. Feyre playfully eyed the curious one that grazed her hand as she took his current brush from his scarred hand to switch it. “Now with this fan brush, I want you to coat it in the white paint. And as you do so, get a feel for how the bristles bend and move.”

Doing as High Lady said, he got her guidance once he brought the loaded brush to the wall, being sure to dab, not swipe the white in a near full coverage circle followed by a line over the shade of blue he had no idea how to pronounce. 

“So this is where the magic begins,” she stated when he finished and passed a third brush over, a flat paddle one identical to the first and this time a cloth. “You see that perfectly clean teardrop you made? You’re gonna ruin it.”

At the alarmed look he gave her, she just cackled. “I knew you’d make that face, Rhys did the exact same. I want you to very lightly swipe the brush starting at the largest end of the teardrop and out towards the tail of the star. That’s the only motion you’ll be doing. And after each swipe you can gently wipe off the brush before starting again. You can also practice the strokes around the mountain until you feel ready like Rhys did, the sky there is also dry.”

With a deep breath, he took a step away and tried it until he felt like he got the technique she wanted down. This was for his family, he reminded himself, he will not let his nephew down. And despite getting her nod of approval, he still felt like he was going in blind as he did what she said and his jaw dropped. 

Well shit. Now he understood why she wanted him to put down the colour he chose first. 

“The blue is actually transparent; so while it looks dark in the tube, it blends out much lighter. Especially with white under or overtop. You’re doing wet-on-wet blending.” What was once just a bright blob over blue so dark you couldn’t see it on her perfect walls, he could now see how the white faded. How the light and the dark mixed until they became one. So Az wiped the excess off his brush, and continued on and on until it looked similar enough to what she and Rhys created. They fell into a rhythm, Feyre handing him back the fan brush to brighten or a new one with bristles so impossibly soft as they worked as a team. She barely had to tell him what to do now, so with next to no pressure he feathered it out vertical rather than the almost horizontal strokes from before, until only a streak of blue light remained. They could’ve been at this for minutes or hours, he had no idea. He didn’t even question her instruction to use a densely bristled tool he could’ve sworn was a toothbrush to flick on watered down white paint for the star trail. 

“This is incredible, Feyre.” He stated, stepping back at last.

“That wasn’t me, that was all you my friend.” She grinned at him. “Once everyone’s is dry, I’m adding a sheer shimmery paint to make them pop, but even without it you did a beautiful job.”

He felt heat rise to his face, and inclined his head in thanks without removing his eyes from the wall. 

“You certainly have an eye for this, Az. Care to quit and become a painter? I could use an assistant.”

A chill went through him, and he started to turn in her direction before the window caught his attention. Dusk must have fallen along with the rain who knows how long ago. About to rub his temples, Feyre squeaked out a warning before he remembered the task at hand and looked down at himself. The plain black long sleeve shirt covered in splatters didn’t matter, he goes through them like water for work but the paint coating his skin made his stomach drop the same way her jest did. Much different than the red he was used to seeing there, all the blood he still couldn’t wash away.

He can paint a picture with his knife, but nothing like Feyre’s ability of creation. Each slash he makes as delicate and precise a dance as any Nesta favours, but instead it’s to a symphony of screams. And unlike Elain… the only soil he sees is grave dirt. If the bodies make it that far. 

His work is never meant to been seen by others, it’s means to and end, a way to protect his family and his court. Unlike their work, where it would be a crime to hide it from the world.

“Tempting offer, Cursebreaker,” Az murmured, swapping the dirty cloth for a damp one his shadows brought him. Paying close attention to his siphons and not his scars, he still didn’t feel clean enough no matter how hard he wiped the paint from his skin. “Sadly, I don’t think your mate would be too thrilled to have to hire someone else to feed the creatures in Hewn City.”

She snorted, making a lighthearted comment about at least no one had to feed Byraxis, for now… The forced tease in her voice didn’t fool him as she realized she must’ve hit a nerve, but he appreciated her effort anyway.

“I do have to head out, but I’ll pop by soon to see the progress when I drop off paperwork.” He told her, his lips pressed to the top of her head and shockingly made contact with her hair in a brief farewell. Rhys must’ve lessened the shield knowing Az was with her, but not by much considering both her and the babe’s scent was still concealed. 

Feyre did invited him to stay for dinner which he politely declined. It wouldn’t be served for an hour, but he needed space and to fly to clear his head—still feeling like if he looked down he’d be dripping blood that didn’t belong to him as he made his was out. He did try not to rush out as he walk through the maze of supplies strewn about the covered floor, keeping his wings high even as his shadows tugged at him, but he had a feeling she knew his reason for leaving. Well, at least the other reason. 

Lightning cracks through the sky, snapping Azriel out of his memories. Damn, He must be more tired than he thought. If breaking one of the cardinal rules of flying—also known as “PAY ATTENTION JACKASS!” by his brothers when they taught him—wasn’t enough, he’s not even going to the right place. Despite not living there for years, he’d been heading towards the town house and not the House of Wind. 

The storm just seems to be picking up, but at least with the downpour he no longer felt the warm spray of blood coating him rather than the paint, he just felt nothing at all. Well, nothing besides wanting to get the fuck home. Az really didn’t have the energy to fly up a mountain or winnowing through this even if it wouldn’t be his first time. But considering how often lightning hits the rocks rather than the surrounding city, crashing at the town house is easiest. It’s for the best, with it sitting empty now. At least he’d be alone. 

Az pauses mid-flight though, when he notices the lights already on inside. And the smoke rising from the chimney only to dissipate in the rain.

What the hell? Who would be dumb enough to break into their high lord and inner circle’s home? It’s not like it’s broadcasted who owns the house but it’s pretty common knowledge after this long. 

At least storms can be a great tool for his field of work, it’s almost a blessing in disguise he plans to use to its full advantage. Landing atop the roof as gently as possible, he ensures his wing beat blends in with the rain like it has hundreds of times before. Using his siphons to unlock the door and slipping inside, the creak of the hinge merely just a gust of wind as he shuts it behind him. 

That’s when the smell of jasmine and honey hits him so strongly he has to bite back his moan. But it seems like he was the only one who did. 

Because mixed within that scent ingrained in his brain, is Elain’s arousal. 

And she’s…

Oh fuck. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck

[my-own-walker]

Someone You've Never Seen Before

A Kyle Spencer Fan Fiction

frat!kyle AU, fem!main character, sexual themes, mature language, use of drugs and alcohol, frat boy antics

17.

Learn to let go of what's not meant to be held.

It's easier said than done, but it must be done. It's something that carried me through the days leading up to Halloween. I felt that any feelings toward Kyle, negative or positive, were not meant to stay. I used everything I could to distract myself. 

I didn't dare look in his direction during class on Monday. The goal was to remain transfixed on my note-taking. I listened to music wherever and whenever I could, avoiding Sonic Youth like the plague for obvious reasons.

Lily took me everywhere she went if she and I didn't have class. We took a trip to a nearby shopping center to get our Halloween costumes in order.

"Hannah, would this cover my ass?" Lily asked, holding up the shortest red pleather skirt I had ever seen.

"Not a chance in hell," I laughed, turning my attention back to the rack I had been flipping through. She sighed loudly, dropping her arms down to her sides. "Wear shorts underneath. Or bloomers."

"It took me this damn long to find a red skirt, how will I find red shorts for underneath?" she whined, exasperated.

"Get your ass to work, Davies."

She planned to be a cute little devil, complete with horns and a pitchfork. She had already bought a headband with dainty sequined horns fastened on it and a black bustier top embellished with chunky red rhinestones. I, of course, was to be the angel. I already found a small pair of white wings.

My idea was to be an angel in the way Juliet was in the 1996 movie version of Romeo and Juliet. So when my eyes landed upon the long, empire-waisted white dress on the rack, I nearly squealed in the middle of the store.

Lily got invited to a party that was to be at the TKE house on Halloween. She asked me, very delicately, if I'd like to attend it with her. While my every instinct was screaming "no," I kept true to letting go of things that were not to be held. While my fears over what happened were very real, I did not want to rot away in my apartment for the remainder of my college experience.

Thursday, aka Halloween, was spent skipping class and running last-minute errands. We bought some red lipstick for Lily, a pack of rubber bands for my hair, and most importantly, liquor. I would only feel safe if we were drinking our own liquor.

We sat getting ready in my room, Lily sitting on the floor, my full-length mirror just inches from her face as she leaned in close to paint on some eyeliner. I sat at my desk with a tabletop mirror, creating two small braids in my hair that I would form into a halo with pins and elastics. Arctic Monkeys albums played softly over my small speaker. 

"How are you feeling?" Lily asked, breaking the lapse in conversation.

"Me?"

"No, the other person in this room right now," she snarked. I turned to look at her. She had moved on to brushing blush over her cheeks. I opted for minimal makeup, so I was already done. She still needed her hair done.

"I'm a little nervous, I guess," I admitted, "but I think this will be fun."

"Just let me know if you want to leave and we will. No questions asked," she said sternly. "I'm not playing any games tonight. I will kill a motherfucker if I have to."

I pinned down one braid and dropped my hands into my lap, then turned to face her. "I love you, Lily. Seriously. You are my best friend."

"Don't on me with the sentimental shit right now, Martin. I will kiss you," she joked, turning to face me.

"I dare you," I replied, then breaking out into a fit of laughter.

We got to the party around 11. It was already in full swing. We got rather drunk while pre-gaming at the apartment, so no part of me cared about how crowded it was. I guessed everybody's week must have been tough, though. Everyone was drunk, loud, or pissed off. 

On the front stoop alone, there were two sets of people arguing about god knows what. The front door opened to a barrage of music and voices. It smelled of latex and hairspray with all of the Halloween costumes inside. We found a place to settle in the second living room along the wall.

It wasn't long before Lily found someone she knew and disappeared into the crowd. Not before asking me if I would be okay alone roughly thirty times. I insisted everything would be fine. I was confident I could find someone to talk to.

I meandered around for a while, stopping here and there to chat with a few people I vaguely knew. It was when I crossed into the kitchen, though, that my stomach turned. Standing next to the doorway I had just walked through was a tall figure.

"Hey, angel," his deep voice spoke. This voice was low and quiet, he said a secret no one else but me could know. I turned my head to my left slowly, my gaze landing on Julian's deep, tired eyes. His full lips curled into a wry smile.

Before, the way he towered over me was endearing. Something that gave me butterflies. At this moment, though it felt downright terrifying. Suffocating, even. He could easily overpower me and cause me harm. 

Without a word, I turned on my heel, crashing into the poor girl in the cat costume standing behind me. "S-sorry, I-" I stammered, placing a hand on her shoulder to steady myself before bolting for the front door.

The night was cool. I rushed to the edge of the stoop where there was a railing and gripped it for dear life, letting the cold metal remind me I was on Earth. I took in the fresh air of the night, but it was soured by a cigarette smell, making it clear that I was not alone. A boy with a mop of tight curls smirked over at me.

"Wanna smoke?" he offered, holding out his cigarette to me. "You look like you need it."

"Fuck it," I muttered, grabbing it from him and taking a long drag. I handed it back to him and blew a large cloud of smoke out into the night.

"You're Hannah?" he asked, unprompted, before taking a drag.

"Yes...what's it to you?" I inquired, brow furrowed. I was growing tired of men and their stupid attempts to talk to me.

"I'm Lance. Lance Hamont," he answered while exhaling smoke. He held out the cigarette for me again and I took it. "I'm in KLG."

I took a drag and blew it out upwards. "Right, right. I don't think we've ever formally met."

"Yeah, I've just seen you a lot is all. Guess that's how I knew you'd need a smoke," he chuckled.

"Oh?"

"You know, dealing with Kyle and all," he shrugged before inhaling more smoke. "I've seen you come through the house a lot this semester." His voice sounded funny as he tried to hold in the cigarette's vapors.

"That was for a project, that's all" I answered quickly, trying to end the Kyle subject. "He was my project partner for a class."

"Really?" he asked, cocking his head. "You weren't dating? The amount he talked about you I figured you were."

"Talked about me?" I exaggeratedly repeated. I reached for the cigarette and he handed it over. I took in a large puff of smoke and held it in for a beat longer like Lance had just done.

"Oh god, all the time. Just this week even," he scoffed. "You two close at least?"

"Not really," I trailed off, growing despondent. I handed him the cigarette back while staring off into middle distance.

"Damn," he laughed. "He's always mentioning 'Hannah' -er, you, in conversation. That's weird."

"Yeah..." I whispered, backing up a few steps before turning to walk inside. "Thanks, Lance."

"You owe me a smoke next time I see you!" he called after me.

I don't even smoke. I replied in my thoughts.

I found Lily in the front room sitting on a side table. She was talking to a girl in a cute sailor costume. I grabbed her shoulder to make my presence known.

"Hey, baby!" she exclaimed. Party vibes had already gotten to her. "Maddie, you've met Hannah, right?"

"Yes!" the sailor, Maddie, smiled. I didn't remember meeting her ever, but I returned the smile and nodded.

"Right," I grinned. 

"I was just talking to the most interesting person, Hannah," Lily smirked, raising her eyebrows. Maddie got bored and turned away to speak to someone else. "He was asking how you were."

"God, I can't even deal right now," I groaned. I screwed my eyes shut and tilted my head back. The night was already annoying enough as it was. No answer she was going to give me was going to make things any better. 

"Who was asking about me?"

Previous Part | Next Part

[brokenjere]

seventeen going under (ch. 21) (j.f)

seventeen going under (j.f)

a/n: guys its here - the final chapter. love you all so much for reading and supporting the story, it means so much to me. this will not be the end of my storytelling and i hope to be able to continue their story one day - lmk what you think :)

catch up here

Tangible proof. Those words kept ringing in my ear. Jeremiah had written an entire book of tangible proof that he loved me and all I had given him was a summer of lies. Just listen my mom said. Just listen. Just listen. Just listen. 

I rummaged through my room to find any tangible proof hidden in these walls. Something I may have forgotten about or deemed less important. I grabbed notebooks that I stashed from school, flipping through them to find notes written back and forth between us but all I found were niceties written by Conrad in between the margins of my Math and English notes. “You’re gonna kill this test!” “Don’t forget to hang the 1.” “This note was so important.” He would take my notebooks when I told him I was struggling and he’d make notes on the sidelines making sure I got everything I needed to get out of it. When I saw them over the next few days in class, I’d smile to myself. I always felt taken care of.

On my bookshelf was a book. The spine read The Outsiders by S.E Hinton. I grabbed it, the only copy I owed of it that had a broken spine and was well loved. It was the same copy I had in middle school that carried me to now. It was the only copy I read religiously. Next to it was a newer copy with the spine still intact and I grabbed that one, too. We all were forced to read it in middle school but it had quickly become my favorite book of all time. I scribbled down annotations in the margins and between the lines over so many years it was barely legible anymore. The new copy was from Conrad. He gave it to me one night while we sat in the basement alone. Jeremiah went to get more snacks and Conrad pulled it out of the couch cushion. “I annotated it with my thoughts. I don’t know, I thought you’d like it,” he said. I read it that night. This was his tangible proof, I thought. All the notes in the margins of my notebooks and this novel - that was his way of telling me he has loved me all these years, too. 

Conrad once gave me a copy of Wuthering Heights. It sat on the top shelf, untouched, but he said it was one of his favorites and he hoped I would read it some day. I never did because classics weren’t always my favorite but I grabbed it off the shelf and opened up to page 1 with a pen tucked behind my ear and a highlighter in the spine of the pages. I wrote in the margins and highlighted what I liked and wrote sad faces next to the stuff I didn’t. I only got halfway through before the sun went down and my eyelids felt heavy. Mom went to Susannah’s without me. No one texted. 

The next morning I woke up so early the sun wasn’t fully up yet. There was a dark glow to the Earth and the clouds looked pink. I grabbed the book off the nightstand and I finished it. On the very last page, I wrote a letter. My brain hurt. My heart hurt. My hand hurt. But I signed my name at the bottom with a kiss and then shut the book. My tangible proof. 

There was a knock on my door. “Are you awake?” Mom. 

“Yeah,” I called back as I got up to open the door. She was in her pajamas, her hair in a messy bun, and bags under her eyes. “You look good,” I teased. 

She pushed herself into the room with a fake laugh and sat herself down at my desk. It was a disaster between me digging out every ancient artifact in the drawers and all the new supplies we got a few days ago but she poked at it all anyway. “What’s with the mess?” She asked, holding up a notebook from the 7th grade. 

“I was just trying to find something.” She cocked an eyebrow up. “What? It’s true.” 

“Find what?” I crossed my arms and shuffled on my two feet feeling uncomfortable. 

“I don’t know. Proof I love Jeremiah, I guess.” When I said it out loud, it sounded stupid. Why should I need proof when I know it in my heart? My atoms were split from his atoms. I shouldn’t need a piece of paper to prove that, yet, here I was searching. Her face said everything I knew: I was stalling. I was looking for a way out. 

Her eyes softened and she sighed, setting down the notebook. “You know when you were younger you used to beg me to buy Jeremiah cards for every occasion.” I nodded because I knew this. I remembered it vaguely but I didn’t know where she was going with her story, so I let her continue. “Easter, Christmas, birthdays. If there was a card for it, you wanted Jeremiah to have one. And even if there wasn’t, you’d want a blank one so you could make one yourself. Do you know how many cards he probably has?” I shook my head. “Hundreds, I bet.” 

“What’s your point?” I asked. 

She smiled. “My point is that you signed every single one, ‘I love you”. He has heard it a million times. He has it written down a million times from the moment you could write. I used to have to spell it out for you, that’s how young you were.” She was shaking her head as she was talking as if this was obvious. As if I should have already known. As if she has known from the moment I was born I was destined for Jeremiah Fisher. “I’m pretty sure you came out of the womb loving that boy. Don’t go looking for reasons why you don’t.” She flipped open one of the new notebooks. The page was stark white and empty. “But if you need something tangible then write it down.” 

When she left the room, I took her spot at the desk. The page in front of me was so full of promise. So full of all the words I’ve been wanting to say. I took a pen and did what my mom said. I wrote down all my feelings. All the good and all the bad and when I was finished, I had my tangible proof. It was the only thing that sealed the whole thing shut. I stuffed it in an envelope and sealed it with a kiss. 

Xx 

Susannah answered the front door when I rang the bell. I’m not sure what I was expecting but her looks took me off guard. She was perfectly put together and she was smiling. “You’re here!” She exclaimed, pulling me into the foyer for a hug. “Your mom said you weren’t feeling well. How are you?” She smoothed down my hair and kissed my temple before holding me at arms length to look at me. 

“I’m good,” I told her, trying to muster my best smile. I felt the need to apologize for the debutante ball but the words didn’t come. I think she saw them in my eyes. 

“Hey, don’t worry about everything that’s happened, alright? The boys are okay for now. I will start treatment in a few weeks and all will be well, okay?” She didn’t sound too convinced. “Want me to get him for you?” I didn’t know who she was referring to but I nodded. Both the boys came tumbling down the stairs a few moments later. 

They stood in front of me, both effortlessly handsome but in their own ways. Conrad’s hoodie was falling off his shoulders and his hair was messy and pushed out of his face. Jeremiah was put together but I knew it wasn’t intentional. His curls were perfectly placed on his head and they both stared at me with hopeful admiration. “Can I talk to you?” I asked, looking over at Conrad. 

The room felt thick. I could feel Jeremiah’s shock and confusion even though I wasn’t looking at him. Conrad cleared his throat and he nodded and stumbled over his words, “yeah, yeah.” He nodded his head so I would follow him up to his room. I avoided eye contact with Jeremiah as I passed him. 

Conrad let me in the room first. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it. He kept his hands behind his back and I pictured his white knuckles gripping the doorknob. His eyes were soft. Wanting. Hoping. 

I took the book out of my bag and handed it to him. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What’s this?” 

“Open it.” He did, careful not to crack the spine. I can still see my handwriting scribbled across the first few pages. He flipped through them, his eyes scanning over the highlighted parts and reading my commentary on the side. “I figured it was time I repaid you.” 

He smiled and shut the book, closing the gap between us. He dropped the book on his bed. His arms wrapped around my waist. It was just instinct for me to wrap mine around his neck and let him spin me around. When my feet landed, he cupped my cheeks. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I liked the book.” My voice was barely above a whisper. I was too scared to speak. “I wrote you something in the back. A note.” He went to grab the book but I grabbed his wrist, stopping him. “But before you read it I need you to know that it’s Jeremiah. It’s always been Jeremiah.” He didn’t react. His body didn’t stiffen and he didn’t move. He just looked at me and blinked. “Say something.” 

“What do you want me to say?” He straightened himself out and was no longer aching to touch the book. “I’m happy for you. I just want you to be happy. That’s all I have ever wanted.” 

“I know,” I whispered. 

“You’re my best friend but I was stupid to think that I stood a chance next to him. No one compares, right?” He half chuckled and my heart snapped in half. I shook my head and sat down on the bed. Everything felt too heavy. 

“You’re not stupid. That wasn’t a stupid thought. I’m sorry. I wish I loved you that way. I wish I didn’t make you feel this way. No one is comparing you two. He’s not better than you, he's just Jeremiah.” I breathed out the last word like it was something I had been holding in for my entire life. A weight lifted off my shoulders and they slumped down. Conrad moved my hair out of my face and tucked a piece of it behind my ear. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. 

“I wish it could have been me but you’ll take care of each other. Promise me, he’ll take care of you?” The request felt odd coming from his lips but I think I knew what he meant. I nodded and Conrad kissed my forehead. “Go to him. He’s probably freaking out. I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. 

“I couldn’t talk to him without talking to you first.” Conrad grabbed my hand and stood me up. He pulled me in for a hug and he held me for a few moments. The world felt so quiet I couldn’t even hear the birds chirping. When he pulled away, everything came back to life.  life. Conrad kissed my temple before releasing me completely and I searched the house for Jeremiah. He wasn’t in his room, although his clothes from our summer in Cousins were thrown all around the room haphazardly. The cleaning I did the other day was barely noticeable but it smelled like him. 

I found him in the basement laying on the giant Love Sac. It was well-loved and over used, with small holes ripping at the seams that Susannah had patched numerous times before already. His ankles were crossed and his arm was thrown over his eyes to block out the light. He didn’t hear me come down so I looked at him for a few moments as I stood at the bottom of the stairs. My eyes couldn’t drink in enough of him and I could look at him forever but instead, I started to walk toward him. He sat up, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the light and to me. He smiled gently almost like he didn’t want to really be happy to see me but how could he help it? The corners of his mouth turned up anyway. 

“Hey,” he whispered. I gave him a small wave. The letter was itching in my back pocket. “About time you showed up,” he teased. My cheeks flushed and he reached for me. He pleaded, “please don’t tell me you love him.” 

I shook my head slightly and his eyes softened. “Jere,” I whispered. 

“I love you,” he said. I stuck my hand out loosely and he grabbed it. I wish his life vest in this hurricane of a summer. I was keeping him afloat and drowning him all at once. 

“I love you, too,” I said. 

“I’m glad you finally agree.” I laugh. I actually laugh. “I love your smile. God, is it the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” 

“Jeremiah,” I tried again, eager to spit out exactly what I need to say. He cupped my cheek and his palm felt hot against my skin. His thumb caressed my face and then my bottom lip, pulling it down gently. I placed a kiss on the pad of his finger. 

“Just kiss me, okay? Don’t say anything, just kiss me and be mine.” How could I resist his request? I couldn’t. I let him kiss me and he kissed me like the world was crashing around us and the last thing he would ever remember was the feeling of my lips and I kissed him back as the Earth fell away in giant chunks. His curls wrapped around my fingers and his fingers wrapped around the base of my neck. He was inhaling every part of me, drinking me in with an eagerness I had never expected from Jeremiah Fisher. He wasn’t intense or needy. Never in his life. He was soft and carefree and reminded me of the color of the sky when it’s really early and the sun had just woken up making the sky so clear it almost looked white. Right now, he reminded me of crimson. There was a fire in him that I could not put out. 

When he pulled away, our breathing was heavy but it was in sync. We were perfectly in tune. His breath had become my breath and his saliva was now swimming in my body. He was him and I was me and we were one. “Do you know how long I have loved you?” He asked. This admission had struck me right in the gut. He was so desperate for me to love him and it was because he didn’t know I had been loving him all this time. 

“Almost as long as I have loved you, I assume.” I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the folded up piece of paper. I probably could have presented it a little nicer but the words just poured out of my body and I was too impatient to wait so I folded it up haphazardly and threw it in my back pocket before I lost the courage. “I wrote this for you, but I’m sure it’s not the first love letter I’ve written for you. According to my mom, you should look through all the cards I’ve given you.” I half-laughed as he took the letter from me, his finger slowly unfurling the paper but I put my hand on top of him. “Don’t open it yet.” 

“Why not?” He questioned. I folded my hand over his and he used his other hand, the one not holding my letter, and grabbed my waist pulling me closer to him. 

“Read it when you’re alone.” Truthfully, I was embarrased to watch him read it. “And then you can call me in tears because you’re so consumed with love for me there’s no other way to express it other than tears,” I teased, kissing his pouting lips gently as if we had been doing it our whole lives. He smiled into my lips. 

“I can think of some other ways to express my love for you,” he mumbled. He shoved the letter in his back pocket and grabbed my waist completely, holding me to his body. I giggled - giggled - like a little girl and kissed him with everything I had inside of me. Kissing him, loving him, was like coming up for fresh air. We collapsed into a pile of limbs on the LoveSac, laughing into eachother’s mouths. I rolled over on top of him and looked down at him. My hair fell in front of my face and he tucked it behind my ear. “Finally,” he whispered. 

“You know this is insane, right? Us. Together.” 

“Why do you think that?” He sounded genuinely curious but also disinterested. He disagreed and nothing I said would change his mind. I didn’t want to change his mind. I smiled so he knew. 

“All we’ve ever been is friends. How are we going to navigate this? Won’t things be different?” 

Jeremiah shook his head. “It won’t be different because nothing that I feel is different and I don’t think anything you feel is different. But now, we kiss.” He kissed me and then said, “Us, together, is not inside. It’s right.” 

XXX

Later that night, after Jeremiah had read my letter, he snuck through my window. He told me, I love you, thank you, and then he kissed me. He kissed my lips and my jawline and the nape of my neck. We rolled around in my bed, stifling each other’s laughs so my parent’s would not be woken up. It was late and dark and the crickets were alive outside, singing for us. 

He asked me how could you have waited so long for this? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I asked him the same thing and he flushed so red it went all the way down his neck. I didn’t notice the backpack that he was wearing when he came inside but now that was reaching for it, I saw it on the floor under the window. He pulled out the notebook that I had already saw, but I pretended to be confused. “I’ve been writing in this since I was a kid.” He handed it to me and I flipped through the pages I arleady saw. 

“What is this?” I asked. Jeremiah was shy and he shrugged his shoulders and he kissed my cheek. 

“All the ways I’ve loved you.” 

That night, we kissed and we talked. We talked about his mom and he cried on my shoulder and then I started to cry as I apologized for lying to him all summer. I never should have done that, I admitted. It’s okay, he told me as he kissed all over my face. He kissed all my tears away until I could no longer tell why my face was wet. He said he could forgive me for anything. He would forgive me until the day that we die and then I told him I hoped he wouldn’t have to do that. I asked him about Conrad. He stiffened but said he was okay. He was happy for us. He was his brother again. 

Jeremiah and I had never been given boundaries from our parents. We never needed them because we were just friends, despite everything everyone thought. But now, he was no longer allowed in my room with the door closed except when he snuck in really late at night without anyone knowing. Susannah was less concerned about what we were doing behind closed doors because she said she just wanted to see her son happy. She just wanted him to wake up with a smile on his face. She told me she wished she could see us get married and I told her I wished that, too. She got a photo of us at the ball framed. We were walking down the stage and he was looking at me like I was holding up the universe and I loved him more after seeing that. If that was possible. 

Falling into a routine with him was easier than I anticipated. I thought we would mow over speed bumps with a hesitation that would surely doom us but we didn’t. I didn’t notice any speed bumps. He kissed me when he saw me and he kissed me when he left and he held my hand whenever he could. We did what we always did, be friends, but we kissed. Just like he said. And the kissing was good. 

We kissed in the pouring rain one fall night. We were in his living room and the rain was pounding hard on the roof and he grabbed my hand and dragged me outside. I was laughing in shock, mostly, but I was still laughing. Jeremiah was laughing. He was dancing with me in the rain and kissing me as the cold water seeped through all my clothes and he screamed that he loved me over the rain hitting the cement. It wasn’t the first time it was said, of course, but it was the first time it was said since he was my boyfriend. He never had to say it. He said it when he told me to text him when I was home safely even though I was just going next door. He said it when he made sure I was drinking water every day. He said it when he brought me my favorite snacks every day. He said it when he stroked my hair until I fell asleep. 

I screamed it back and he kissed me again and then I said, “can we go back inside?” He nodded and we warmed up in hot towels and he waited for me on his bed as I got out of a shower. 

“You look good in my clothes,” he told me and then I said I could take them off if he wanted me to and then we made love quietly as the rain bled out of the sky. The birds sang us awake and he moved the hair out my face and tucked it behind my ear and told me, “I love you.” He never could say it enough. I could never hear it enough. It sounded new every single time and I prayed that I would never get sick of it. 

“Do you think we were meant for each other?” I asked him one night. We were sitting in my bed. My feet were on his lap and he was stroking my ankle as I read a book for English class. Conrad had notes written in the margins because it was his copy from his own senior year. He went off to college when the leaves turned orange and we hadn’t seen him since but he calls pretty often. He’s doing well, he said. He’s happy. 

Jeremiah looked at me. “Of course I think that.” 

“Why?” I asked him again. Jeremiah chuckled and he grabbed my ankles, manuvering my legs so they sat on either side of him and then he gracefully pulled onto his lap. He traced my bottom lip with his finger and he searched my face for his answer. 

“I have never been more sure of something in my entire life, don’t you feel that too?” I nodded. I felt it, too. I felt it so deeply it filled my lungs and made me feel like I was drowning sometimes but loving him made me feel like I was coming up for fresh air. 

taglist: @things-that-make-sa-happy@marajillana@calpurnia2002@revemixer@harrysswhore@liltimmyst@chickunn-nuggett@rottenstyx@queenofthehellfireclub@lilbazzi@drikawinchester @gillybear17 @shamelessbluebirdsong

[gguksgalaxy]

2:18am | Seokmin/Dokyeom 1k

Fluff, I bias wrecked myself with this one, Requested by anonymous

Me @ Me in a bagels and beans at 9am : writing DK with my favourite thing in the world is going to be fine, this is a good idea...oops

“Wake up.” The words reach you only faintly while you’re sleeping, almost as if it is a part of your dream. Once your boyfriend actually grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you awake, you realise it’s him. 

You groan, rolling over and away to the other side of the bed. “What time is it?”

He bounces on the bed, pulling you by the arm. “Doesn’t matter, wake up, come on.” 

“Why?” you whine, opening your eyes. It’s the middle of the fucking night. “Seokmin, what the fuck.” 

“Don’t you remember,” he grins, too wide for someone awake at 2am. “You always told me, I could wake you up for one thing and one thing only.” 

Normally you would probably remember what he’s referring to, but with your mind still hazy with the sleep you had been craving, it’s slipped away from you. “Seok, explain yourself or I’m going back to sleep.” 

“You can’t,” he states. Hands grabbing your face, he kisses the tip of your nose. “It’s snowing.” 

Now that has you awake. You sit up, eyes wide as you gaze outside the window. Sure enough, everything is white. It must’ve been snowing a while already. It’s so beautiful. 

Your boyfriend wraps his arms around you, pulling you into him. “Come on, let’s go outside. If we sleep it might be gone when we wake up.” 

He makes true on a deal you had made months ago in the early stages of dating. One time he’d woken you up in the middle of the night, to tell you something. At that moment you had somewhat angrily explained that the only reason he was able to wake you up between 1am and 6am was emergencies, and if it was snowing. There were few things that gave you an instant serotonin boost the way that seeing the world covered in snow did.

One of those few things is definitely him. 

As he pulls you outside, dressed in warm clothes over your sleepwear, you smile as widely as him. He’s gorgeous, even in the dim lighting of your street. The way the light casts off his face, showing off the strong shape of his cheekbones, the slope of his nose. He’s strong, broad and toned beneath those oversized sweater he wears. Yet his eyes, all they show is sweet adoration as he takes you into his arms. 

“I love this sound,” you whisper. “The way the fresh snow crunches beneath our feet. There’s something magical about it.”

He hums, kissing the top of your head. Large hands sneak into your coat, finding the warmth of your waist. “I’ve never paid attention to it. But it does sound nice.” Sleep still edges into his voice, eyes droopy. 

You take his hand, treading along the street while he follows. When you look back, you don’t think there is a more beautiful sight. Your boyfriend, Seokmin—the goof from your 9am statistics class that you’d almost cursed out twice in the same day because he wouldn’t stop talking to his friend during class—holding your hand as snow descends onto him. It covers the beanie he’d pulled over his ears, sticks to his eyelashes, melts when it hits his flushed skin. This, the way he looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world, is magic. 

“You’re supposed to be staring at the snow,” he chuckles, “not me.” 

The laugh you let out might’ve been a bit too loud for the late night, your neighbours might be awoken. “Fine, I’ll look away.” You turn, letting go of his hand. The night is still young, moon barely showing through the thick layer of clouds from which the snow is fluttering down. With the snow, everything seems brighter though, like it’s luminescent. Or maybe you’re just so in love with this moment. You’ll remember it forever. 

A quite harsh thud to your back pulls you out of it. “What the—“ you turn, finding Seokmin wiping snow from his hands, hissing at the cold. Did he just? “You did not!” you squeal. 

“What?” he says, sheepish grin, red fingers at his lips to warm them. “I didn’t do anything. I would never.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Fine.” He braces himself the second you kneel down to scoop up your own hand of snow. In your hurry to catch him before he runs, you throw it unpacked, flurry of white cascading down between the two of you. He yells, way too loud. You don’t care. 

Damn Seokmin and being fast. You try to catch him, his feet slipping and he has to pause. It give you just enough time to reach him. Fingers catching around the hood of his coat, you pull him back and press the now freezing palm of your hand into the side of his neck. 

“No!” he squeals, “no, please no! Mercy!” His voice spills out of him, volume way out of control. It’s something you’ve always loved. How boisterous and bright he is. But at now three at night you attempt to shush him, palm clasping over his mouth. 

He wrestles you, grabbing you as your feet slip and hoisting your body toward his front, hugging you from behind with one arm. The other arm swipes snow off a nearby car and dusts it into the collar of your shirt. 

“Seokmin!” you gasp, wriggling against him. “Stop! We’re going to wake all of our neighbours!” 

“Don’t care,” he beams, cold tip of his nose pressing against your cheek. “I’m having the time of my life with the love of my life. What are they going to do, report us to the police? On what grounds?”

“Noise complaints!” you counter. His words hit you a second later, when he turns you around and cups your face with his ice cold hands. “Did you just—“

“I did,” he whispers, voice lower, only for you to hear. “And I meant it.” 

(230216) Requests closed | © GguksGalaxy 2018 - 2023

[ruminate88]

Processing School Trauma:

School for me was torture. Everyday that I had to be there, I was absolutely miserable. After I was homeschooled, I would have dreams my mom made me go back to school and I would cry and feel like my mom abandoned me… School wasn’t just about being “labeled stupid.” It was about being misunderstood, judged, laughed at and neglected. It was a lonely place and I was daily rejected.

In the 7th grade: I had this computer teacher who was married to a “military man”. She was not only strict, she yelled daily and belittled everyone. The only thing I knew back then about computers was how to play solitaire LOL (it was 2002 btw) my parents never had the internet yet… I never learned how to type. The computer teacher was far from empathetic or understanding. She yelled at me daily. I would ask the guy next to me for help and because I was talking, she stuck me in the far corner by myself against a window where I could hear band practice across the way and I would get sooooo distracted 🤪 I was not typing or keeping up in her class at all…

After computer class, I would go to “reading lab” and I wasn’t a book lover by any means but you better believe I couldn’t wait to get to that class becuase literally, no one talked!!! 😅 not even the reading lab teacher. She would whisper and tell us to read quietly… oh boy, I loved her so much haha However, on occasion she would give us a book we all read together and out loud. I remember one day the computer teacher (I purposely forgot her name) she really shook me up one day just yelling at me and I was a nervous wreck! I get to reading lab and it was “my turn to read” 😳😳😳 ahhhh the reading lab teacher was like, “okay it’s your turn to read out loud to everyone.” And oh gosh I hadn’t stopped shaking yet and all I could think of was “plzzzzz hold it together and don’t cry!!!!” I was shaking the book so hard on my hands trying to remain calm and just get through it all.

Gym was also a nightmare. I purposely wore high heels to school so I could take an F and have to sit out. I can’t tell you how many times a ball of some sort would smack me in the face 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 I nicknamed myself “The Human Ball Target” LOL Also had a bus driver that yelled and carried a whistle. He blew that stupid thing daily. I would leave off his bus with the biggest headaches… This is all just part of the things I remember about school that I detested!!!

Not all my teachers were mean or cold. 3rd grade was probably my best teacher ever. Well and 4th grade Mrs. Washington wasn’t too terrible either I suppose… I just remember school being the one place I felt the smallest, dumbest, weakest and the most misunderstood/misjudged. I got tired of kids acting like they knew who I was when they barely knew my name 🤪 “Popular” girls were so stuck up in middle school. They always talked down to me like I wasn’t a person and sadly, whenever they wanted a “piece of gum” or to “barrow a pencil”, they had to ask me….

Also in 6th grade, this guy named Robbie Williams punched me in my arm becuase I put his chair down for him off his desk 😝😳 I mean… how stupid is that???? He couldn’t stand that I was nice to him and he couldn’t stand me period. Punching me was satisfying to his ego and my reaction was to walk away and go sit at my desk… My mom asked why I didn’t tell the teacher and it’s like “uhhh cuz that’s only something a wimp would do.” I never told on Robbie or wanted to get him in trouble. I just realized in that moment he’s a bully, to leave him alone and I found out years later in high school, that he was physically abusive to his girlfriend and I believed it 😔🥴😳 That’s terrible!!

Sure, being homeschooled was obviously scary quiet. Only me there. Everyone at work and left me to my own devices. I taught myself everything at that point. It felt like the ultimate neglect. HOWEVER, you couldn’t have paid me a million dollars to go back to hell, I mean, school…..

[furrywerewolfpizza]

Angela was already outside, "Hurry up! Your almost late"

We live fare away so she has to drive through lots of trees. When we arrived at Hawkins Middle school abunch already gotten off the bus, no one wore a costume. I walked by all the lockers looking for mines with the combination written down. As I put the paper back in my backpack I took out books, chose human anatomy.

A red head girl walked in science class after me. She stood there quietly and totally annoyed when Mr. Clarke called her Maxene yesterday, every thing was awkward until all the students left. I almost introduced myself but didn't, I just smiled, I know she never felt welcomed. Because Clarke put me fare apart from Max I couldn't talk loud, so I just stay silent and work on the class assignment. Later by my locker I opened a news paper about Hawkins town events. It was going well I mixed up i and l, teachers say my brain is altered. At six I used to call my mom yulee not Julie.

Angela stoped the car by are mel box, "Hoo! Look we got mel."

She holds a post card in her hand with graciousness, "Come her"

I touched the stamp amazed by every design, it definitely came from Haiti. "Are friends!"

I ran to her immediately and grabbed the paper, "This is great. Maybe you should read it."

After I told her I smiled. She looked at me sweetly before putting a hand on my shoulder. "Ok,"

"A birthday card for you. To the nicest girl, we are inseparable. Happy birthday.

I kissed my sister's cheek taking my gift instead. I sat the mail aside in are kitchen-cabinet. Angela drove me around Hawkins while we trick-or-treat, some neighbors gave me sugar free bares. Me and Halloween go well together because we're strang, spooky, and cool. We turned down Maple Street where more people gote candy, "Whoo! Look at the creepy ghost, muahaha."

I said as I held my hands up and bending them into claws.

Angela laughs hysterically with her arms crossed, "So stupid." She moves behind me to another house. There where more cool decorations on this house's yard, the owners had grave stones that lit up like neon lights. The icy wind blew my hair sideways and leaves fell on my head. I hear screaming down the block turning around, it was the four boys from last night being started. A girl wearing Michael Myers' costume was wielding a knife, she raised her mask and laughed.

I was gonna apologize about my behavior but hesitated. How am I supposed to explain what's going on with me, "Let's check out candy somewhere else. Maybe next to are home."

Angela spoke in a befuddled tone,

"Thought you wanted to come here."

"Too much people,"

"Okay," my sister said and took me to the car."

Later we ate every twix bar from my bag, trading sweets while mom talks on the phone. I felt so tired I could fall asleep on the floor , I went in my room.

[blurberries]

The Older Wheeler Eddie Munson x F! Oc

First actual fan fiction, this is part one of ? Can also be found on W-pad

wc - 1575 CW - depiction of a panic attack, undiagnosed anxiety, weed sesh, mentions of disappearence... I think that's all for now? (let me know if I forgot something)

__________________________________________________________________

My heart was beating faster and stronger, threatening to jump out of my chest, my mouth was dry, the teacher 's voice was distant and muffled while all I could hear was a loud buzz. I started to shiver uncontrollably, my sweaty and cold hands gripped at my knees. I tried to take deep breaths to help calm down but with my shaky lips I noticed that breathing only made it worst. "Everything is okay, you're gonna get through this, it happened before, you can make it happen again." I thought to try and rationalized

The teacher seemed to take notice when she saw me stare blankly down me desk, as if I was in a trance. She called out my name many times, which I heard none of. I only noticed when I felt a kick behind me, making my heartrate faster, which was not helping my case.

"Miss Wheeler, stop with the daydreaming, we're in class and you better listen if you don't want me to call your parents" I nodded and gave a small apology.  I didn't take notice that some of the kids laughed, with all the thoughts going through my head, they were inaudible. I could only hear my breath entering my nose and escaping my lips. I just couldn't calm down, I had to leave. But how? I couldn't just walk out, I had to attend class. I couldn't just leave the classroom suddenly in front of anyone. But I had to, so I did. Taking all my stuff, I stormed out, the teacher at my heels.

"Miss Wheeler! Miss Wheeler! Elizabeth Wheeler! Come back here!"

My furious teacher screamed at me through the halls. Tears were threatening to fall on my cheeks, I felt nauseous, dizzy, searching for my breath. I made my way towards the forest, crossing the field, to find my secret hiding place. I quickly settled down at the mysterious picnic table in the middle of the woods, head in my hands, I swallow the excess of saliva that just made it's apparition before taking deep breaths in, 1, 2, 3, 4, hold it, 1, 2, 3, 4, breathe out, 1, 2, 3, swallow, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, gag, swallow, breathe in, hold, breathe out, over and over, until the nausea disappears. I looked up at the trees, taking in the beautiful scenery that surrounded me, and finally calmed down, not without my body trembling all over, until I felt ready to leave the woods. Gosh I wished I could just make everything just disappear, even for a single minute.

I heard leaves shuffling and footsteps getting closer, I curiously turned my head towards the source of the noise, trying to find the culprit who put an end to my revery. My eyes fell on a mass of curly hair hiding a face I had yet to know. The young man was looking down at his feet, probably lost in his thoughts. I watched him as he got closer to the table, still unaware that I was already there. The thought of speaking up to let him know my presence crossed my mind, but I figured that letting him find out on his own seemed funnier. He finally looked up at the table and got startled at the fact that he wasn't alone.

"JESUS CHRIST!" He said putting a hand over his chest, the other dropping what seemed like a black lunch box, that's when I broke into a hysterical laugh. He quickly came back to his senses and started laughing with me. After what seemed like 2 minutes, I finally calmed down and spoke up.

"I'm so sorry, I should've said something, I actually thought of saying hi, but I couldn't bring myself to break your precious train of thought."

"Thank you for being this considerate, though it could've saved me from nearly having a heart attack" he said picking up his black box, then placing it on the table

"You have to admit that it wouldn't have been as funny if I had..." I said with a smirk that he gave back. I finally took the time to admire his soft features, his eyes were like hot chocolate on a cold winter morning and gold honey where the sun hits them, and oh so beautiful lashes draping them so nicely. "So, what is a mysterious handsome stranger like you doing at my super-secret spot?" I questioned. He raised an eyebrow, tilted his head.

"Handsome uh?" He said looking straight into my eyes, hands in his back pockets, and I kept eye-contact, encouraging him to respond, which seemed to amuse him.

"I actually thought this was MY secret hiding spot, since no one ever comes here, I mean, you saw how surprised I was to see someone else. But to answer your question I came here for a bit of a uhm, peace, and what about you?" He finally sat across from me.

"Well, I usually only come here at lunch time, but as you can see, I am here well before that today. I actually just needed some place quiet to uh" I hesitated, thinking about how you to say you came here to calm down without over sharing, it must have taken a while because he tilted his head his eyes searching for mine with a concerned look on his face "for a bit of peace as well, but I am feeling a whole lot better now, and was just about to leave when you made your big entrance, so I'll lend you my hiding place so you can have your peace" I said, about to stand up, but he spoke again, interrupting all of my movements.

"You don't have to go, it's actually kind of cool to have you here and have someone to talk to. I am also skipping right now, would you maybe, mind sharing this place for a bit longer? If you have nothing better to do obviously" He asked nervously, looking down at his rings that I had just took a notice to, and I agreed to stay, releasing all the tension that had accumulated in my muscles to stand up. "Do you mind if I light this up?" he questioned showing a joint.

"No, it's fine, go ahead"

"Are you sure? Cause I know the smell is kinda- a-and not everyone is comforta-"

I stood up, cutting him off. He looked at me confused when I walked up to him and sat by his side "I am sure, but are you sure you wanna smoke it? It kinda seemed like you were looking for an excuse" He scoffed and smirked at me before lighting it up.

He asked about how long I knew of this place, what time I usually came here, and that's when he told me that he'd come here when he had a free period, after class or when he was skipping and had nothing better to do, while I only came here for lunch. Having found this place around the same time, we both made peace and decided to share this place. He asked me about today, what made me come here in the middle of a class? I told him everything, not minding about over sharing. Perhaps it was the secondhand smoke, perhaps it was the kind stranger next to me, but I felt at ease, and I felt comfortable enough to tell him about my strange moments. He carefully listened to me while I tried to explain this problem that I had been having, the fact that it happens at least once a week, how I felt so much pressure that made me feel trapped, it felt like a claustrophobia that didn't just manifest itself in tight and enclosed spaces. When I was done, he asked if he could do anything for me, the thought of a stranger caring this much warmed my heart, but there was nothing he could do. The two of us kept on talking about everything and nothing. These meetings would happen more and more often for the next following months, I had made my first actual friend, hell, best friend even. I'd share my interest, exchange mixtapes and books, complain about our lives, laugh and cry. He'd talk about his parents, and I about mines, plus the brother and sisters. He knew everything about me, and I about him. Until one day I stopped showing.

                                                                                               *   *   *

The curly haired boy wondered if he had done something wrong, he'd try to sneak at lunch time to see if she was there, but she was a no show. He would ask the seniors around if they had seen her, describing her looks, and only was it when someone asked him for her name, that he realized that she never gave it to him, and neither did he give her his. He wondered not about how he would contact and see her again, but about how would she be able to find and contact him if she needed to talk, escape or calm down, how would he be there for her? Who would? It was worrying him, even more so when the youngest Byers disappeared, followed by Barbara. He had wondered if she might've disappeared with them, but contrarily to the two others, there were no posters about her, no one but him searching for her. It was as if she never existed, as if he had made her.

••••••••••••••••

Part 2 is now up here x

[terribletaletime]

A late night noise

•

I yawned. It was around eleven at night and I had just finished my homework for the day. It was time to finally go to bed to get some sort of rest in hopes of actually being awake enough to pass this class for once. I went out into the dining room and saw my family was there. They were all saying goodnight to each other, as apparently we all had something keeping us up that night. I hugged my two brothers, my mother, and my father. I went into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and got changed into my pajamas, and had a glass of nice cold water to wash down my nightly pills.

As I made my way down the hall I started to feel like my body was being weighed down. I stumbled into room and hit my bed with a thud. It was unusual for me to feel so exhausted. Sure, it was late and I had mentally exhausted myself... but this tired? I was honestly too drained to think of it any further than being a little confused. It took me likely a little under a minute to fall asleep. I can't remember exactly, as at that point my eyes were so heavy I couldn't keep them open long enough to properly look at the clock.

I was woken up a few hours later by a loud bang. It took me a while to be able to pull myself out of bed. My head was fuzzy and the room was spinning. Christ, what the hell? I sat down on my bed and breathed in for a few moments and tried again. I crept in the hallway careful, god forbid it was somehow a burglar or worse. into the hallway and crept through the house trying to find the source of the thud. I figured it was just one of my dogs, but I could never be sure. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a knife, just in the rare case that it could possibly be an intruder. Halfway through me walking down the hallway I heard another bang, along with with my mother's blood-curdling scream. I felt my heart skip a few beats.

The door to my parents bedroom was mostly closed, but it was open just enough to peer through. On the floor was my father's body thrown on top of my older brother's. Their heads both had a bullet hole smack dab in the middle of them and blood leaking from it. I bit my hand to avoid screaming until my throat was raw, but even then it didn't stop me from sobbing. I could hardly comprehend what I was seeing. Surely, surely this wasn't real... this couldn't possibly be! 

The attacker took a step forward into my line of view. Holy shit, it was Alvin Seville, as in Alvin form Alvin and the chipmunks. My parents took over managing their business when their adoptive father, Dave, disappeared a few years ago. I guess now I know where he went. As I saw Theodore and Simon carry my my struggling younger brother and hold him down over my father and older brother's lifeless body reality became harder to deny. My brother fought and squirmed, but he was tied up with rope pretty tightly. The three brothers laughed at his attempt to break free.

"Your husband couldn't answer my question and one of your son's paid the price. If you don't fucking give me what I want, then not only will I shoot you and this other one, but your daughter sleeping in the next room over? Well, she may or may not have taken the wrong kind of pills. We'll sell that bitch and sell her off to god knows who. Maybe that'll get rid of the debt you owe me." He snapped his finger and Theodore put a gun to my brothers head, and Simon put a gun to my mothers. 

"Now, I'll ask you one last time. Where the fuck is my money? Time and time again we've preformed for you, gone on tour for you, and recorded albums for you. We know you've been pocketing more off of us than you've been letting on. So fork it over. Now."

"Please, please!" My mother furiously shook her head through her sobs. "We don't have it! You've gone crazy, Alvin! We've always been honest with you. We can show you our financial records if you need the proof, please!"

"Wrong answer."

Alvin's face soured as he snapped his fingers once more. His brothers shot both my mother and brother. This time I was unable to contain my scream.

 I saw him, Alvin, trap my mother into a corner. "Where's my fucking money?" He asked her. "Your cunt ass sold my fucking albums, but I never got the money." She cried out "I don't know, please I don't know!" This seemed to infuriate him. He took the large butcher knife and hacked her throat and didn't stop hacking until her head was completely off. I couldn't stop myself from screaming this time, and they heard. 

I made a break for it, running into the forest in my backyard. My lungs burned as I ran more than I probably ever had before. Each footstep I made had made a loud crunching noise from the leaves under me. Unfortunately for me, this made it easy for them to find where I was. Every step I made, they were one step behind. Theodore and Simon shot their guns at me. I ran diagonally, hoping that somehow this would make me a hard enough target to hit, but one of their bullets hit my arm causing me to face plant onto the ground. They stopped running once they saw I was down. Alvin laughed menacingly as he approached me.

"God, I must commend you. Nobody's ever gotten away from us before. I guess we've learned our lesson, from now on we'll use more pills. Now, we were going to make a buck or two off of you before but unfortunately we have a rather strict policy of no witnesses. I guess now that we've got the time, would you like to say any last words?"

I groaned as I flipped myself over. I glanced to my sides, and that's when I saw it: a large and sharp stick. It wasn't much, it sure as hell was better than nothing. I grabbed it and stabbed Theodore with it with all of my strength. He keeled over, and while Alvin and Simon were still in shock I grabbed his gun and shot the two of them. I had killed the two people who had killed my family. I should've felt relieved, I should've felt happy, I should've felt proud but all I felt was numb.

I physically lived from that day on, but mentally I died. Every time I close my eyes I see the bodies of both my family and the chipmunks. Sometimes I wonder, would it have been easier if I had just let them kill me?

[harryslittledaydreamer]

Hawkins’ little Freak

TW- Self harm, rape, SA, smut, body image, insecurities

Scuffling feet. Gossip. Whispers. Slamming of locker doors. Books being shoved into backpacks. Doors banging. Groans of tired teenagers. Bells ringing signaling the next session of hell.

I hurried down the hallway to my next class, english. As I was approaching the doorway, a foot slipped out in front of me, making me trip and fall. Students around me pointed and laughed as I stood up, beginning to walk into the room.

“Freak! Don’t you know how to walk?” a nasally high pitched female voice laughed out.

I ducked my head down, wishing the tiled floor would just swallow me up. Eventually, after what felt like hours, was actually about 30 seconds, I made it to one of the empty desks in the back of the classroom.

The lecture went on for about an hour, all about Shakespeare. Bodies around me fell asleep, or stared at the ceiling while a documentary played. The next thing I knew, the bell rang. Everyone got up and shuffled out of the room, scurrying away to their cars and bikes to go home after a long day of hell, aka school.

As I was making way to my house, I heard a whistle behind me.

“Come here freak!” a male voice yelled towards my direction. I turned around and was met with five male students from my year, all staring at me with disgust. Before I knew it, one of them grabbed me, and held my arms behind my back, giving me no option to move. I panicked and tried kicking myself away, but it was no use, considering how much stronger they are.

“We just wanna play with you, come on! Don’t be difficult, you will enjoy this, trust me!” the guy behind me threatened. Tears began leaking from the corner of my eyes, knowing I had no way out, and no one would help or save me.

They dragged me through the woods behind the school, into a small clearing in the middle of the woods. Where no one would hear me scream. They threw me down to the dirt, and two of them held down each arm to my side, while another two held down my legs. The guy who whistled to me earlier walked over and stood above my face.

“If you scream, or make any noise, I won’t hesitate to do worse,” he threatened. I felt my heart begin to race, feeling my heart beat out of my small frame. That day, I was wearing a plaid skirt, with a sweatshirt that had ‘Metallica’ written across it, with the bands’ photo below.

Jason, the guy who stood above me, signaled the other men to hold me down tighter. He began to trace his finger gently along my pale skin, from the tip of my nose, down to where the crew neck of my sweatshirt began.

“Well, this is in the way, isn’t it sweetheart?” he smiled and reached behind him, pulling a small pocketknife out in his hand. He brought the blade to my neck, and cut down the middle of the fabric until the thin sweater was split down the middle, showing my chest and torso to all the male eyes. One of the others pulled my now shredded top, and threw it somewhere behind them.

“See, wasn’t that easy?” Jason laughed to himself. Tears continued leaking from my eyes, while I shook my head. He rolled his eyes at the motion, and straddled me, so his body was on top of my torso. Jason looked me dead in the eye, and ripped my bra off. I squealed and cried out loud, feeling embarrassed and violated. He began harshly attacking my breasts with his rough calloused hands, and sucking my nipples. My mind tried blocking it out, but the pain was too strong.

While I was blocking out the assault on my fraile body, I didn’t realize the other men took my skirt off, leaving me in my panties, and nothing else. Once the realization took over, I tried to fight and fight my way out, but they had so much strength over me.

“Now for the part I’ve been waiting for,” Jason announced like he was getting a huge prize. His fingers ripped the last article of fabric off my body, leaving me in panic and tears. He threw his own clothing off, and began roughly thrusting into me, with his eyes rolling back in pure pleasure. His moans of satisfaction could be heard from what seemed like a mile away. Every movement. Every thrust. Felt like a needle going through my body, and an intense burning spread like a wildfire. I sobbed and sobbed, begging for them to stop. But he didn’t. And none of them stopped. They all just watched like it was some sick fantasy they all had.

After what felt like an eternity, his hips slowed down, and he pulled out, threw the condom behind him, put his clothes back on and looked down at where he just assaulted, and smiled like he just won some victory.

“See boys, that’s how you do it right,” he laughed towards the males surrounding me. They nodded in agreement and stared at me. Jason looked at me, one final time, and said, “ that was fun, thanks princess. We should do that again sometime.”

After he said that, the boys laughed, including him, and they walked off. Just like that. No other words spoken. They left me here, crying, bleeding and traumatized in the dirt, surrounded by nothing but trees and fear.

I was still naked, and cold from the fall weather here in Hawkins. I crawled to a tree, leaned against it, and let out the loudest cry. Whether that was from pain, embarrassment, or both, I sobbed and sobbed wondering why they chose me.

I couldn’t go home, my body was in excruciating pain, and 2 miles walking distance away. My parents are never home, they only come around maybe once a year to pay past due bills, and they stay in Las Vegas gambling every penny away. I had no one. No friends. No family. No one.

Seeing the sun begin to set, I figured I couldn’t stay naked in the woods overnight. Somehow, I got the courage and strength to stand up, and begin to limp towards the edge of the brush. The clothes I had, was shredded and parts were missing, not being able to be put on.

After about 20 minutes of walking, I heard a crunch of leaves somewhere close to me. My heart rate sped up from 0 to 100 in a second. I glanced around me, not seeing anything. Panic filled my veins, thinking an animal or one of the boys came back to get more of me.

“What are you doing? Where’s your clothes at?” a voice startled me from behind spoke. I quickly covered my chest and crossed my legs, trying to save some dignity I had left, and stayed looking at the dirt.

“No, no, no, no, please stay away,” I whispered frightened to the stranger.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, are you okay? Do you need me to call someone?” The man spoke. I shook my head, and eventually looked up to meet the eyes of the voice.

He had long curly hair, with dark brown eyes, and a ‘hellfire’ shirt on his torso. He looked concerned, almost frightened by the sight in front of him.

“Here,” he spoke, handing me a jean jacket with the sleeves ripped off. Cautiously, I reached out and accepting the clothing piece.

“Thank you,” I spoke in a hushed, still frightened voice.

“Of course. My name is Eddie. Eddie Munson,” he smiled and held his hand out, motioning a handshake.

I looked down at his hand, and gave a slight nod with a small smile.

“I’m y/n,” I responded meeting his eyes once again. I felt a warmth with him, despite what happened an hour ago, I felt at peace.

****************************************

After our little introduction, he offered for me to stay with him at his uncles camper. He assured me there was no one else there, and he wouldn’t ask questions. After minutes of contemplating the offer, I shrugged. But eventually gave in, considering my house was much further away, and I didn’t want to be alone right now.

It only took 10 minutes of walking to reach the park. He led me up the stairs, and opened a creaky door, revealing his home. It was small, with 1 bedroom, a kitchenette and living area. It was musty, with music posters covering the walls, but it felt cozy nonetheless.

“Home sweet home. I know it’s not the most grand of living spaces, but it does what it’s purpose is. Let me go get you some clean clothes for the night,” Eddie spoke while walking to what I assume is his room, leaving me standing in the entryway, shivering from the cold nip of the air. Not a minute later, he waltzed back in, with a plain white t-shirt and plaid sweatpants in hand. He smiled and handed them to my shaking hands.

“Thank you,” I whispered almost inaudible, but still with sincerity laced in my shaky voice.

“Of course, you can change in the bathroom if you want,” he pointed to a small room containing the bathroom. I nodded, gave a small smile, and cautiously walked in the bathroom, closing the creaky wood-chipped door behind me. I glanced in the mirror, seeing my face and body covered in dirt. Blood stained the inside of my thighs. And scratches littered my knees from falling and crawling in the woods. Tears pricked my eyes, but I gently put Eddie’s clothes on, feeling the soft fabric against my skin. It smelled, with a tint of cologne and weed.

I walked out of the bathroom, looking around for Eddie, finding him sitting in the living room, on an old brown leather couch. His eyes shot to me, smiled, and then met my eyes.

We stayed in silence for a few moments, neither of us knowing what to say. Breaking the silence, I said, “thank you, Eddie.”

“You don’t need to thank me, you can spend the night in my bed, since the couch isn’t all too comfortable. Let me know if you need anything okay y/n? Please don’t hesitate to ask,” Eddie spoke with a comforting tone. I nodded and turned around walking to his bedroom. There were shirts and pants scattered across the small room. With band posters on every inch of the wall, and a guitar hanging up in the middle.

I gently laid down on the bed, still with the lights on, and stared at the ceiling. I felt absolutely disgusting. I still felt their hands on me. Their eyes piercing my body. The pain and burning on my flesh.

This went on for what seemed like hours. I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t feel safe. I needed warmth. I stood up quietly, and opened the door careful to make no sound. I tip toed to the living room that held Eddie, hoping he was still awake. To my surprise, he was sat on the couch watching an old tv show. Once he felt my eyes on him, he slowly turned around with concern lacing his face.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He questioned. I didn’t really know what to say, but I guess the droplets of tears running down my face gave him his answer right away. Eddie stood up and came towards me.  Hesitantly, he slowly wrapped his arms around me, giving me a gentle hug. I don’t quite understand why I felt so comfortable with him, especially given the last few hours and bullying I’ve endured my whole life. Something about him just seemed different. Gradually I began to wrap my arms back around him. I dug my face into his shoulder letting out sobs. We stood there, for who knows how long. But eventually we let each other go.

“Can you sleep with me? If not I totally understand, I know I’m just some random girl who you found wondering in the woods, naked,” I spoke quietly. His eyebrows creased in confusion.

“Hey, hey, don’t talk like that about yourself okay? Of course I’ll stay with you,” he replied easily. I followed him back into the bedroom, and we laid down, so my back was facing his front.

“Goodnight y/n, sleep good. Wake me up if you need anything,” his voice tickled me from behind. Instead of responding with a verbal answer, I reached behind me and interlocked our fingers, pulling both hands to the front of my torso. I heard a sigh of relief and content from the curly haired man, then my eyes shuttered close into the dark abyss of my mind.

******************************************

The next morning, birds were chirping while the sun faded through the window like a waterfall of gold. Leaning my head to look at the small alarm clock on the nightstand, it read 8:30am. I heard a small grunt next to me, startling me from forgetting a body of warmth was next to me. Our hands were still wrapped around the others, and I could feel the heat of his hands still fully engulfing my own small ones.

“Good morning y/n, did you sleep okay?” Eddie rasped with his morning voice. I looked at him and nodded with a slight smile.

“Thank you so much Eddie, I don’t know what I would’ve done last night if you didn’t stumble across me,” I told him solemnly.

“Well, I’m happy that I stumbled across you too,” he smiled cheekily. We both let out a little laugh, and stretched getting out of the Queen sized bed. My body was still in so much agony and my lower half was sore, to the point of it almost being impossible to move. Eddie must’ve noticed my discomfort and jogged to my aid.

“Here, let’s sit back down and try again in a few minutes, yeah?” He said with my arm in his grasp, setting me back down on the bed.

“I don’t know what happened last night. I can only assume, but I really hope it’s not what I think happened. Please tell me if you have an cuts or anything so I can clean them up for you,” Eddie spoke towering over my figure. I pointed to my knees and elbows, signaling there was some sort of abrasion there. He nodded and walked off, coming back with hydrogen peroxide, cotton balls, and a bandaid.

“This is gonna sting a lot, but I promise to do it gentle and as fast as I can okay? If you need to grip something, hold onto the sheets okay?” He warned while pouring the chemical on the cotton. He did as he said, and was very gentle with the process, but it still hurt like hell. I winced, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the pain the night prior.

“Alright, all done! You did so good sweetheart, now why don’t you go and rinse off while I go attempt breakfast,” he praised and laughed.

“Okay, thank you,” I chuckled while heading off to the bathroom. After undressing and turning the water on, I stepped in and felt immediate relief. I scrubbed my body until I couldn’t feel the physical touch of the men last night. After 10 minutes, I finished up and went to put clothes on. All of a sudden, I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen. I clutched my stomach, bent over, and noticed a stream of blood coming from my panties.

In horror, I yelped and panicked.

“Eddie!” I yelled through the thin door. I heard his running footsteps come to s sudden halt at the door.

“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Eddie questioned concerned as to why I yelled. I opened the door, with tears staining my pale face.

“Something’s wrong,” I said as u looked down to where I was bleeding. His eyes trailed to where I was looking, and his face turned pale with panic.

“Y/n, we need to go to a hospital right now, I’ll grab the keys,” he rushed out with no breath. My heart began to race, terrified of the doctors, but knowing he was right.

*****************************************

“Alright Miss y/n, after doing your exam, we could see that your cervix had a small cut on it due to trauma. The bleeding is a result of that, and should go away within a few days. In the mean time, we will prescribe you some pain relievers. It will still hurt down there, considering your hymen and vagina were put through harsh movements. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to call this number,” the female doctor, probably in her 50’s said while handing me a small pad of paper with a phone number on it, along with her name. I nodded and said a small ‘thank you.”

Eddie never left my side since we had arrived at the hospital. His hand never left mine, and gave gentle squeezes of reassurance through the whole exam.

On the way back to his home, we sat in complete silence. Whether it was from the shock, the pain, I have no idea. I think Eddie was a little overwhelmed from what the doctor was telling me, and didn’t know what the right thing to say is.

When we arrived, we quietly got out of his truck, and walked up into the living room.

“Can I hug you?” Eddie questioned after the silence. I smiled and walking into his arms, squeezing slightly and inhaling his scent. He rocked us back and forth and rubbed small circles on my back.

“You are so strong sweetie. I know we just met, and I’m sorry it wasn’t under the best circumstances, but I’m honestly so glad I met you y/n,” he whispered in my ear.

“Me too, Eddie, me too,” I whispered back in his ear. I felt his cheeks turn up into a smile, and we slowly separated our bodies.

“Wanna watch some movies, and just relax today? I’ll go get a heating pad and some snacks while you set it up alright?” He questioned looking at me.

“Yeah, sure, thank you,” I responded while settling down on the couch.

He was gone for about 30 minutes, and when he came back, he dumped a bag full of junk food on the small table in front of the couch, and handed me a small blue heating pad.

“I’m not sure what you like, so I uh kinda got a little of everything,” he laughed embarrassed while rocking back and forth on his toes.

“Awe, thank you Eds, you didn’t have too,” I smiled.

“Of course I did, let’s pick out a movie shall we my lady?” Eddie gestured like a prince towards the tv as I laughed at the gesture.

Throughout the day, we watched countless films of all genres. Horror, romance, comedy, and all in between. It was nearing 8pm when I heard a short quick knock on the door of his rv.

“Stay here, I’ll go check who it is,” he spoke while standing up and heading towards the door.

“Eddie Munson! Dude, where were you? We have the meeting tonight! Remember? What the hell are you doing here?” A younger male voice directed at Eddie spoke with annoyance.

“Oh shit man, I lost track of time. I’ve been occupied the last day, we will make it up soon, okay Dustin?” Eddie said standing between the door and the doorframe, blocking the view of the boy Dustin from seeing me.

“Don’t let it happen again,” dustin said annoyed with Eddie’s absence.

“Mhm, yep, see you later,” he spoke, as his hand shut the door.

“Who was that?” I questioned confused as to where Eddie was supposed to be.

“Oh, I host a dungeon and dragons meeting every weekend, and I forgot about it today. Don’t worry though, I’d much rather be here with you,” he smiled with a little glimmer in his eye.

“Oh, really? I love that game,” I exclaimed excitedly.

“Wait, you do? You should join,” Eddie exciting spoke back. I nodded and then felt myself getting tired. Eddie must have seen my eyes beginning to struggle to stay open, so he took my hand in his and guided me to his room, where we laid down, wrapped in each other’s arms.

“Goodnight Eddie,” my voice carried over to him.

“Goodnight y/n,” Eddie sleepily responded. With a few subtle movements, his arms wrapped around me. His scent and warmth gave me the comfort that I haven’t had in a long time. And with that, I was out like a light.

********************************************

“Good morning, we gotta get up for school,” Eddie’s voice woke me up. I yawned and stretched my sore limbs, flipping my legs over the edge of the bed. Eddie handed me some black sweatpants and a hellfire club shirt. My eyes thanked him, and I proceeded to the restroom to change.

Eddie and I left shortly after I was finished getting ready, and began driving the short distance to Hawkins high. Nerves and anxiety flowed through my veins. The group of guys hang out in front of the school, making it impossible to avoid them.

Eddie parked the truck, and we both got out, and ventured towards the main doors to hell.

“I’ll see you later okay? If you need anything, just please come and find me. Meet me after school in the empty room besides the computer lab okay? I’ll introduce you to the club,” Eddie spoke while we walked through the metal doors. I nodded and smiled, then made my way to my first period.

The day went by very slow. My mind wandered the entire time hoping to god I wouldn’t see my abusers in my path. Once the last period bell rang, my feet carried me to the empty room. Opening the door, a small group of guys turned their heads towards me. Eddie was in a higher up seat in front of the main table, I’m assuming they play the game on. I’m guessing he forgot to tell the gang about me considering their eyes were shocked.

“Guys, this is y/n, she’ll be joining us today,”Eddie’s booming voice spoke above. The boys nodded silently, then the game begun. I watched the strategies and ways they played for hours. All while Eddie kept sneaking glances and smirks my way.

***********************************************

After that night, I continued to stay with Eddie more and more. We never spoke of the night he found me, or of my family. He just seemed to kind of accept me for me, no questions asked.

***********************************************

Months passed by faster than usual. Eddie and I became very close friends, some would say best friends.

I’ve become more open and myself around him. And I’ve been noticing something that I truly didn’t mean to happen. I developed a crush on him. Like, “I’m in love” sort of way. There’s no way I’d ever tell him and destroy our friendship. I’d never want him to think I’d take advantage of that. So I’ve kept my mouth shut.

One night when Eddie and I were cuddling together, watching a movie, his hand moved to my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. He didn’t say anything or look at me, just kept his hand there. We’ve never done anything or gone this far with our friendship. The most that’s ever happened is hugging and cuddling, this was crossing a new territory.

“I’m getting tired, wanna head to bed,” Eddie’s voice interrupted my thoughts. I nodded and stood up, continuing to the bedroom.

Once we laid down, on our backs, I could feel some tension. I could sense he wanted to say something.

“Hey, you okay Ed’s?” I questioned his strange behavior.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, just thinking,” he replied with an unsure tone in his voice. It was silent until his voice boomed 5 minutes later.

“You know what, fuck it. Y/n, I like you. Like, really really like you. If you don’t feel the same way, please don’t feel pressured into,” his voice began rushing out. I interrupted his rambling, leaning in for a kiss. My shaky hand went to cup his cheek. He didn’t move his lips at first, probably from the shock. But eventually he began to kiss back with so much passion and lust.

At some point, his body rolled over onto mine, straddling my torso, with his hands cupping my face, deeply kissing my lips. I’ve never felt this kind of euphoria and love before. Coming back to my senses, I felt a bump by my pelvic bone. I broke our lips, and glanced down, to see his prominent buldge.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’ll go take care of that really quick,” he said embarrassed, with a tinge of pink in his cheeks, while attempting to get off me.

“No, no, it’s okay. I can help you if you want,” my nervous voice responded to him. He looked at me in shock at my suggestion.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have too, I know it’s a big deal,” he said cautiously.

“I promise,” I assured with a small amount of nerves pricking my voice.

“Only if you are sure. Please tell me if you want to stop or if you feel uncomfortable okay? I won’t get mad or upset at all, I just want you to feel safe and comfortable,” he responded while straddling me once again. I nodded, blush still staining my cheeks while my heart raced with anticipation.

“I know you said you’d help me take care of my uh problem, but I want tonight to be about you okay sweetie?” Eddie spoke in my ear.

“Are you sure? I honestly don’t mind,” I replied.

“Of course, just lay back and relax and let me take care of you,” he said in his sultry lust filled voice. His one hand found way to my side, while the other tugged gently on my shirt. His tongue slipped into my mouth, dancing around with desire. My hands gripped his curly locks, pulling slightly in lust.

“Can I take this off?” He murmured inches away from my lips, indicating to take my top off. I nodded frantically. He smirked and slowly pulled the fabric away from my skin, tossing it somewhere in the steamy room. Not even realizing I automatically covered my chest with my arms, he gently pulled them to my side.

“Hey, don’t hide from me babe. You are so fuckin beautiful. A fuckin goddess, I’m so fuckin lucky,” he rasped, with a glimmer of love in his lust filled irises. Blushing, I held my arms in place by my side, while he pressed kisses from my lips, down my torso, stopping above the waistband of my pants. He brought his lips up to my chest, giving small kisses and blowing cool air on them, making me shiver slightly.

Next, he groped my still covered breasts in his large hands, giving them a gentle squeeze. A soft moan escaped my lips, while my eyes fluttered shut. After a moment, he silently asked me with his eyes to take my bra off. Without missing a beat, I smiled and nodded. He got to work and brought his hands under my back, undoing the clasp. His hands pulled the padded fabric away from my body. His eyes widening with excitement and love.

The next thing I knew, his mouth was on my nipple, sucking and licking, leaving small bruises behind on my soft skin. I moaned with small curse words falling out of my lips. After about 5 minutes of this, he stopped. A small whine escaped me, confused as to why the actions were halted.

“We can stop now if you want too. Please don’t hesitate to tell me if you need to stop or take a break,” his eyes stared into mine.

“I’m good Ed’s, I promise. I feel so good,” I assured his hesitant stature. He nodded and continued his path on my body. He seemed hesitant to go down to my lower half. The eagerness was getting a better hold of me, leaving me whimpering his name, in need of more friction on my pelvic region.

“Please Eddie,” I moaned in need of his touch.

“You’re positive?” His voice rang out, one last time.

“Positive,” I responded while bucking my hips to meet his. Eddie’s eyes rolled back at the action, and began to finally get down to what we both needed and wanted. His fingertips pulled the material off my legs, along with my panties, leaving me completely bare to his wandering eyes.

“God, I’m so fuckin lucky,” he whispered in delight to himself. I giggled softly at the words. Quickly, he pulled his own clothing off, throwing it on the ground. This left us in the same position, completely nude and vulnerable to each other.

His calloused large hands came between my thighs, spreading them apart, giving him full view of my most intimate parts. His eyes seemed to dazzle in the moonlight shining through the window. Eddie licked his lips, brought his head down so he was eye level with my pussy, and licked a long stripe from my clit to my small opening. A loud moan of ecstasy fell from my lips, while his tongue continued it’s assault against my core.

His tongue circled my clit, and sucked on the small bud. His moans filled the air, giving a small vibration to my skin, adding to the pleasure. After what I’m assuming was his way to get me wet, he brought his index finger up to my heat , and dragged it along, up and down, until it eventually stopped at my tight opening.

“If you feel uncomfortable or if it hurts, please tap me or let me know, okay?” Eddie’s sweet voice spoke.

“I promise.”

Once the final cue was given, his finger gently probed my hole. He slowly slipped it inside, until his finger was knuckle deep. It was a little uncomfortable, considering this would be my first time having sex. Yes, when I was raped, they did break my hymen, but I don’t consider that “loosing” my virginity.

“I’m gonna add another,” Eddie warned, giving me time to adjust, getting me ready for his cock. I simply pulled his chin up to mine, meeting our lips, giving him his answer. Bringing his head back down, he slowly inserted two fingers, slowly stretching me out. After a few pumps in and out, a third was added. Minutes after this, he pulled his hand out.

“I’m gonna go grab a condom really quick,” he rushed out while quickly finding a condom in the room. I laughed quietly at the eagerness he had, but thought it was so sweet how caring he is. Once back with the foil in hand, he rolled it on himself. At this point, I realized just how big he actually was, probably around 8 or 9 inches hard. He also pulled out a small bottle of lube, and lathered his cock, and my pussy in the substance.

“Alright, I promise I’ll go slow. Again, let me know if I need to stop,” his concerned voice spoke above me. He grabbed his dick, pumped a few times, and brought it down to my sopping wet pussy. He slowly pushed the tip in, giving me time to adjust to the foreign feeling. Pushing in another few inches, he stopped, and kissed my lips. A few stray tears fell from my eyes, from the slight burning I felt.

“Move,” I whispered. He happily complied, finally filling me up, until his balls were touching my ass. His pace started out slowly, gradually gaining speed once he knew I was comfortable and not in as much pain. Our moans mixed together, while he pounded into me like there was no tomorrow. I could feel my high coming fast.

“I’m gonna cum Ed,” I moaned out.

“Come on babe, you can do it. Almost there,” his raspy voice praised in my ear. Not even 10 seconds later, I felt myself spill to the edge. Our orgasms filling me up to the brim, leaking out of my stretched hole. After one final thrust, he pulled out slowly, discarding the condom, and collapsed on the bed next to me. He wrapped his tattooed arms around me, nuzzling his face into my neck.

“Let me go get something to clean us up really quick,” Eddie said while getting up, heading to his bathroom.

He came out with a washcloth, and spread my legs. He cleaned up the juices that were falling out of my pussy. I hissed a few times, due to the sensitivity, but nonetheless, he was gentle and soothed me with words of encouragement.

He climbed back into bed with me, and we held each other.

“I love you Eddie,” I spoke with a shy tone.

“I love you too y/n. You’ll never know how much you mean to me, or how special you are,” his voice carried over to me filled with love.

That night, we held each other in our arms, and our breathing synced into a slow calm pattern. I never knew I would find someone so caring and sweet as Eddie. Especially after that night, I thought I’d lost myself to those douchebags and never would’ve recovered. The memories don’t disappear or vanish, but Eddie makes me forget it by loving me, and being there for me. All I can say is, “I love you so much, Eddie Munson.”

The end

[sopejinsunflower]

Part 1

My head feels heavy and my tongue feels like sandpaper. I try opening my eyes but my eyelids feel like leads. I’m laying on something soft, a bed most probably. I try to move and only manage to squirm a little, feeling the fabric beneath me to ascertain that it is not a bed but a sofa instead. A leather one, judging by the creaking sounds it makes with every move. Slowly, I can finally open my eyes but my vision is blurry and the room is dark. I blink a few times, trying to get my bearings when I sense that I’m not alone.

As my vision adjusts to the dimness, I notice a figure just below me on the floor, breathing lightly. No, not one, but two of them, laid out on opposite ends. A movement to my left makes me turn to find the figure of a man draped across the other end of the sofa, coming awake. Another man has his head on that one’s lap. A chair scrapes back somewhere to my right and I see three more just waking up, all sitting at a table. Or sleeping on it. As realisation kicks in, I recognise these seven men: BTS.

When everybody is awake fifteen minutes later, we look around the room at each other, the same question lingering in our minds: what the fuck happened? Our cellphones aren’t on us, not even our wallets.

“Where are we?” I ask, looking around the room from the sofa.

Namjoon gets up from the floor and walks towards the window. All I can see from my spot are tall trees and darkness outside so it must be nighttime. Yoongi gets up too and makes a beeline to the door that looks to be the front door and tries the knob but it doesn’t budge. Namjoon, upon seeing that, tries to slide up the window, but to the same result. And then everyone is on their feet, moving around the house trying to open doors, windows, anything that leads to the outside. Nothing.

“We’re locked in,” Jin says, his brows furrow.

Just then, thunderous footsteps come down the stairs and Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung, who had gone upstairs to check on doors and windows, appear, the same exasperated looks on their faces. They shake their heads. A loud bang make us all turn our heads to Namjoon, surprise to see him holding a chair as he had tried to break the window but failed instead. “What the fuck,” he breathes.

“Is this a prank?” Hoseok asks, running a hand through his hair. “Some sort of game? Run BTS?”

“I doubt it,” replies Yoongi who is standing in front of another window, looking out with a scowl on his face. “I think we’ve been kidnapped.”

Jin laughs. “Right. Someone kidnapped seven men together. Someone passed our security and brought us all here to a house in the middle of nowhere and locked us in.”

I hug my knees then, trying to process the situation while making myself as small as possible. I’m trying to think back to what happened before waking up here but my memory is a blank: al I remember is being in that meeting room with the boys, talking about the short story I wrote that Hybe was planning to make into a short movie. But there had been other people in the room; managers, producers, writers, other staff and bodyguards at every entrance point. I remember that last detail very well as they would eye me suspiciously everytime I walked past them as if the tag around my neck wasn’t good enough. And then what? What happened afterwards? Why am I here with them? Was it a mistake, a hitch in the plan of whoever it is that took us that forced them to take me too?

Jimin approaches me silently. He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

I look at him, unsure of how to answer. Physically, yes I am. Psychologically? Emotionally? Instead, I just keep looking at him and he gives a light squeeze as if he understood what hadn’t been said. I fidget with my fingers and that is when I notice the tiny marking on the inside of my left wrist. I bring it up to my face to inspect it. It looks like one of those Latin symbols you see in a science class and, if I remember correctly, the one etched, no, tattooed on my skin is that of an omega symbol: Ω

I hate tattoos and would have never thought of getting one.

“What is this?” Taehyung asks from the foot of the staircase. He is also looking at his wrist, a deep frown on his face. Namjoon strides over to him to see. His forehead bunches together before answering, “Looks like a lowercase beta symbol?”

One by one they all check their wrists. Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin and Jungkook have the lowercase alpha symbol and Jin and Yoongi match Taehyung’s beta one. I’m the odd one out. Does that mean something? And what do the markings even mean, to begin with?

As if on cue, a deep voice resounds all over the house through invisible speakers. “Welcome to the Omegaverse House. I hope everyone is comfortable. I’m sure you have found the markings on your wrists. That will determine your hiercharchy in this little world I built just for you.”

“Who are you? What do you want from us?” Namjoon shouts as he looks around the room.

The voice chuckles. “You can call me Master. What I want is to see if this little experiment of mine works, is all. You’re my little test subjects. If this is a success, we will have all of you to thank for the new worldshift that will happen. I must say, I nabbed the perfect subjects, too. With the amount of eyes on you popstars, my experiment, once successful, will be hard to ignore.”

“They’ll find us before that even happens!” Taehyung screams, standing up.

“You can keep wishing on that,” the voice replies, humour in his voice. “They’re going to have a hard time finding you. Do you know how long you’ve been missing as of now? A week and seventeen hours.” The voice breaks into a laugh, chilling me to the bone. “A week and no leads. I’m very careful with my work. Just as you are meticulous in yours. Now, all you have to do is just be good and stay here for as long as the experiment requires you to be. Groceries will be delivered twice weekly. There will be instructions delivered every other day and if you are good boys and girl, you’ll find it will be a lot easier. Take this as a retreat, a holiday, a break from your demanding schedules. Go against my orders and instructions, you’ll learn the price you have to pay. I’m sure you are all very smart people. We’ll speak again soon.”

Then there is silence. No matter how much the boys ask questions, they get nothing in return. The sound of something travelling through a chute catches our attention and a paper sticks out from a small metal pipe by the bookcases behind me. Hesitantly, I pluck it out, unfold it and read the content.

Take your temperatures twice a day - once when you wake up, once before you go to sleep - and mark them down and labelled properly on a paper. Send that paper the same way this one comes in every night. Failure to do so will be punished. Attempts at messing with the data will also be punished.

The boys then start to talk over each other, voicing their worries, anger and disbelief, their thoughts of what is actually happening and ideas of how to get out of here. I keep quiet, never moving from my spot that I had woken up in. To be honest, I am tired and hungry. Starving, really. I don’t want to think about anything right now except for food or sleep, whichever comes first. The voice, Master, or whatever, mentioned groceries so that means there is food somewhere. Starving us to death isn’t the goal, obviously. Silently, I get up and make my way to what I think must be the kitchen, subconsciously marveling at how big the house is. I approach the fridge, stopping short at the reflection in the sleek black surface of the door.

I look like a ghost, literally. Pale face and hair sticking out in odd places. Instead of the grey slacks and light blue blouse I had worn the day of the meeting, I have on dark sweatpants and an oversized white t-shirt that did nothing to hide my breasts underneath. Behind me, I see Jimin walk in through the reflection and I reflexively cross my arm over my chest, completely forgetting what I was in the kitchen for in the first place. The others pile in behind him. I turn around, shuffling on my bare feet, my mind blank except for the hunger that is starting to ache.

“I’m hungry,” I mutter, eyes on the huge island in the middle of the kitchen.

The boys look around momentarily and I hear Jungkook say from across the island, “Me too. I’m starving.” The others then start to murmur their agreement.

Yoongi marches past me and opens the fridge door, peering inside. He took out a basket of eggs. He then opens the overhead cabinet and takes down two bundles of instant noodles with five packs in each, ten packs in total. Jin starts to be proactive, too, rummaging through the low cabinet and producing a large pot. He fills it with water and puts it on the electric stove. As we wait for the water to boil, we sit around the kitchen island in mutual silence, too hungry or tired to speak. Yoongi takes care of the ramyeon and as the savory smell of it wafts through the room, loud grumbles come from each and every stomach. Jin takes out bowls and chopsticks as Yoongi moves the pot onto the ceramic top. Jungkook jumps up immediately and starts ladling noodles and soups into each bowl before handing them out. We eat like a hungry pack of wolves and in less than five minutes, the pot is empty again to much of our dismay.

“The rice is cooking,” says Yoongi as if he reads our mind. “I’ll make kimchi fried rice once it’s cooked.” No one objects. Jungkook gets up and goes to the freezer part of the fridge. He finds a pack of diced beef and unpacks it in the sink. I notice how they are not frozen yet, which means they had only just been placed in there. Realising he didn’t need to thaw it, he leaves the meat there and goes back to sit down.

“What is the last thing you remember?” Namjoon speaks up, looking around the room. No one speaks at first as we all think hard and long. Then one by one we give our answers and they are all the same: the short story/movie meeting. Yoongi recalls being in a car but that is the extent of it. I look around the room. I’m a complete stranger to them, why was I roped in? I'm nobody compared to these seven world stars, so what do they want with me? What purpose do I serve? My family won’t be able to even afford a ransom money if that was demanded.

“What’s Omegaverse?” Hoseok asks.

“I’m not sure,” answers Namjoon, “but it sounds familiar.”

“Like the fanfic,” Jin chuckles as if trying to lighten the mood.

Quiet falls again.

Something clicks with what Jin said and I run a finger over the omega symbol on my wrist. Is it true? But how can it be when it’s just fiction; a niche in the smut universe that every fanfic reader is very well-aware of. A fiction that revolves around how human biology has evolved - or devolved depending on how you look at it - into something like that of a wolf or a pack animal. A world where there’s no gender but only alphas and betas and omegas, a hierarchy made to make mating all that much easier and clear cut. But what if it is true? What if that was the experiment that the voice over the speaker had meant? I have a sinking feeling deep in my stomach and for a moment, the smell of the meat sizzling in the pan as Yoongi starts to cook again makes me feel like throwing up. I scramble to my feet and barely make it to the sink before hurling back out the noodles I had not ten minutes ago. Yoongi disregards the pan and rushes to my side, holding my hair back with one hand and rubbing my back with the other as Jin takes over the cooking.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand as Yoongi turns the tap on to wash off the content of the sink. As he is reaching out, I get a whiff of a faint sweet scent coming from him. It smells a little like chocolate and I can feel myself relaxing, leaning against Yoongi’s body. He pulls me in, and, almost instinctively, I nuzzle against his chest. Catching myself, I pull away immediately and Yoongi must have felt it too, as he shuffles away slightly to create space between us, leaving us both a little perplexed at what just happened. Then it dawns on me.

“The experiment,” I say through ragged breaths and a stinging throat from all the bile, “I think he was speaking the truth. He’s not experimenting with us, he’s experimenting on us. We are the experiment.”

Yoongi helps me back to my seat and Jimin offers a glass of water. I take one gulp, feeling a little refreshed and more focused now. Namjoon shakes his head. “I wouldn’t trust him, whoever he is. He’s probably just trying to scare us and he’s got you good.”

I open my mouth to object but Yoongi beats me to it. “As much as I want to agree with you, Joonie, I think she’s right. Something’s...off.”

They stare at him, even Jin stops stirring the rice to look at Yoongi. Namjoon tilts his head a little. “Did you just call me Joonie?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer immediately, probably didn’t even notice what he said. Hoseok gives a nervous laugh. “Something’s off, alright. You’ve never used that nickname before, hyung.”

Yoongi shrugs and brings his chair to sit down next to me. Jin finishes cooking and serves the second round of food to everyone with Jungkook’s help again. This time, the food disappears at a much slower pace as everyone mulls over their own thoughts. Jin was the first to speak. “So, if you’re right,” he looks pointedly at me, “you’re saying that since we are the experiment and we are in this omegaverse, this means that whatever this omegaverse is, will happen to us?”

“Maybe,” I answer as I toy with my food.

“Hold on a second,” says Hoseok, placing both his hands palms down on the surface of the island. “What is omegaverse?”

“It’s fiction, I said so,” Jin replies through a mouthful of rice.

Yoongi sighs. “It’s fiction, yes. It’s technically a genre where there’s no gender but just alphas and betas and omegas.”

Hoseok looks even more confused. “Alphas and betas and omegas?”

“Like the symbols on our wrists?” asks Taehyung as he rubs on his marking to no avail.

“Yeah,” said Yoongi. “Alphas, betas and omegas are the hierarchy system.”

“For what?” Jimin’s turn to ask.

Yoongi and Jin exchange glances but I answer for them. “For mating purposes. Like wolf packs. The omegas are the lowest in the rank, the one that’s...mated.”

Jin clears his throat. “In the omegaverse, an alpha is the top rank. They’re the only ones that can mate by putting their marks on their partners. This mark is for life. Alphas are also the only ones that breed and omegas, the breeders.”

“And betas?” Taehyung asks, looking from Jin to Yoongi then back again.

Yoongi answers this time. “Betas are somewhere in the middle. We don’t mate and are rarely able to breed, too. I guess betas are more flexible, going in between alphas and omegas. But I’ve read somewhere that betas are mostly more in control due to their level-headed nature and mild temperaments. They are the least affected by pheromones when an omega is in heat near them.”

“When an omega is in what?” Namjoon’s eyebrows are raised so high they disappear behind his blond bangs.

“In heat,” Yoongi reiterates. “Like cats when it’s mating season, you get the gist.” He passes a hand over his face, sighing as he did so. “This is starting to sound ridiculous, even to me.”

Namjoon stands up. “Right. We’re all exhausted. We should think about this more tomorrow. Right now we need sleep. Maybe it’ll help us process things better.”

Taehyung and Jimin offer to help clean up the kitchen while the rest of us trudge upstairs. On the second floor, we learn that the house has a total of three storeys with four rooms each with its own bathroom on the second and third floor. I claim the first room I see; on the second floor, the first door on the left. I close the door behind me and make my way inside. There’s a desk by the window with a thermometer and a journal and pen sitting neatly on top of it. What happens if I don’t do as instructed? I look around the room, trying to find a camera of some sort but nothing. Is he watching us all right now? How? From where?

Ignoring the items on the desk, I crawl into bed. Five minutes later I feel a sharp, electric jolt coursing through my body, making me arch my back in pain. I grit my teeth, willing for it to stop as tears spill from the corners of my eyes. It feels like an eternity when it finally did and I lay there panting, trying to catch my breath. The same voice from earlier booms throughout the house. “If you’re testing the legitimacy of my instructions, well, you got it. Trust me, that was just a taste. Continue to disobey and you won’t make it past another week. The temperature, if you please.”

Bastard. I’m still breathing heavily, my heart racing a mile a minute. Slowly, I push myself up from the bed and stagger to the desk. I place the thermometer under my tongue, wait three minutes based on the clock nailed to the wall and take it out to check the number. I jot down the temperature in the journal and crawl back to bed, falling immediately asleep once my head hits the pillow.

It doesn’t feel long when I wake up with a jerk, feeling disoriented as I look around the room. It is still dark outside and the clock shows that I have probably been asleep for forty minutes tops. Once again, I look around trying to pinpoint what has woken me but don’t see anything out of the ordinary. Nothing except that strong scent lingering in the air. It smells like coffee but not quite the drink. It has a tinge of musk underneath, like that of a man. It smells totally different from Yoongi’s earlier. I get up and follow it out of the bedroom only to find myself in front of the room next to mine. I knock lightly but there is no answer. I try the door and find it unlocked and make my way inside. A desk lamp is on. On the bed, a figure is sitting on the edge of it, his back to me. He turns, revealing an art book in his hands.

“Namjoon,” I whisper, calling his name in what sounds more like a whine stuck in my throat. I’m not sure why, never mind the fact that we are basically strangers, but I need him. Need to feel his arms around me or else I wouldn’t feel safe to continue sleeping. He looks confused, regarding me from above his reading glasses. Then his eyes soften. Without a word, he puts down the book and stretches out an arm, beckoning me over. I go to him like a child, snuggling under the blanket for warmth but mostly to feel him against me. It isn’t a sexual need, I note. It was more like that of a child needing her comfort blanket, for reasons I’m clueless of. Once under the blanket and in his embrace, I nuzzle his neck, breathing in that faint coffee scent and I immediately relax, feeling my nerves just melting away. Subtly, he nuzzles the top of my head in return.

“Did you have coffee before bed?” I can’t help but ask, my nose pressing against the hollow of his neck.

“No,” he replies, his voice coming out husky. “Why?”

“You smell like coffee,” I say before drifting off to sleep, for good this time.

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[d3nt4l-d4m4g3]

A few days ago, I emailed my former professor about a paper on women’s food practices in the middle ages. At least, that’s what I told him it was about, initially. 

But actually, I wanted to discuss heresy. This professor teaches a women’s rights course every year. Every year at the beginning of the class, he calls attention to why he, a man, is talking about women’s rights. He looks us in the eyes and says, no one else is doing it, and I’m sorry it’s me.

This man made us read the SCUM manifesto, Gerda Lerner, Maria Mies. He grazed the subject of the Lesbian Sex Wars, delicately, so gingerly, posing the question: “Can sex work ever be just work?”  And my  (all woman) classmates, generally mute—in a Women’s Rights class, they all seemed averse to saying the word “woman,” at all. Then one woman raised her hand. and she said, “Sex work is real work.”  A statement that, as I hope you know, is a deflection and a discussion killer.  

At the time I was non-binary. Hah. I submitted a comic at the end of the year of my final project. My thesis for that project was this: the very language female people have to use for themselves was constructed by the patriarchy. for example, the english word “vagina” comes from the latin word for “sheath”. so the vagina invokes the act of penetration upon its utterance. Whereas the word “penis” has no clear etymological root, implying that it is original while the vagina is constructed for him. Why should I carry the fact that I will always be a tool, the hole, of the human that is man? My solution, at the end of the comic, was to continue using they/them pronouns, to shield myself from the horror of being a wo-man, a s-he—an appendage of Him. 

I got a good grade. A stellar report. And it wasn’t a bad comic, for what I knew then. For my condition of blindness and deafness. I made a compelling argument, using sources from class.  But oh, how much older I feel now. I’ve always felt old but now I feel almost like I’m dying. Like I don’t have enough time to fix the world before I disappear. And women’s stories never survive. They are not surviving. networks spring up like mycelium and then every century at least they are burned. Witchcraft is in the air shared by women in a room of their own, and witchcraft is doused in gasoline.

I don’t have enough time to explain how the veil lifted for me. Maybe I forget the big moment. the days after were a blur of searching the no-no tags like radical feminist, GNC, gender critical. Amazed at the wealth of journals that these women linked to with real statistics showing that children are being sterilized for no reason. Mostly gay children. like me, a lesbian, who now lives in a house with three  “non-binary afabs”. This summer, one of these women, who I have known since freshman year, will start taking testosterone, a procedure I took up  for three turbulent months during my freshman year of college. I get to watch her become what I turned away from, knowing the experience fractured my sense of self to a point of  terror and estrangement. I get to watch her hide from her problems and cut herself off from womanhood the way I did for 3 years. I am not a woman, so do I not feel Woman’s pain, she is telling me, I told myself, when I was in a dream.  She has so many problems, she laughs. But trans is a separate problem that has nothing to do with those other problems. A coincidence.

 (For any trans people reading this, you may think: This transtrender fake-trans never-was-trans woman is treating these nonbinary people as if they were dead! as if they weren’t happy people finally living their truth! —well. I put my mom through the process of trying to convince her that I should have always been a man. and I did lose her, for months. For her it was the height of cognitive dissonance that I should want to go on a life-altering hormone to cure my lifelong social awkwardness and self-hatred and self-harm and depression. And I blamed her for not accepting my real self. I was basically made to shun her and my family because of transphobia.. It is disrespectful to anyone’s sanity and integrity for me to perpetuate that cognitive dissonance in this post.)

So I eventually got through to the professor. I knew because of the texts he had us to read for class. He is gay.  He has read all the theory, and lives by it.  And no (woman) student wants to speak to him. To bring the theory alive. They cannot breathe into it and it sits dead in his mouth.

Maybe it is because he is a man. because the presence of one man in a space of all women immediately sends up alerts.  lockdown. Certainly that is the case. Radical Feminists here: I know he’s a man. But I don’t have a woman. And I felt on the strength of the texts he’d given us that he would be my best bet. Maybe somewhere in the corrupted, rotting heart of my college there was a person who knew about thoughtcrimes and was thinking them anyway.

My professor starts with diversion. He starts by talking about my paper. I find it disconcerting that he starts that way. I worry that he won’t want to refer to my email. Where I say: I have woken up from a dream to the apocalypse—Does this man think I’m crazy? Chipper and kind of frantically, he lists off  primary sources of medieval nuns and women saints. for my paper.  Does this man think I’ve turned into a bigot?  Am I confessing lunacy, like a flat-earther?

But I steer the conversation to the meat at his first tentative encouragement. I tell him something like: “children, mostly gay children, a whole generation of gay children, are being sterilized. Porn is a symptom of late-stage capitalism—men’s ownership of women’s bodies. trans is an extension of this. I was part of this. I was in a cult.” I was shaking a bit. I don’t think I’d uttered those words out loud. They sound crazy. Some of the things I said did sound far-fetched. disorganized, remote. But I prayed that my professor would believe some of it, any of it. 

 What I will say is that he believes me.  Thank fuck, right?

He tells me something along the lines of this, vocalizing my fears: 

that all of academia is being scrubbed of anything that doesn’t support Trans.

And it is trans-identified female students and women who are reporting him to Title IX, who spend all their time in his classes fuming at the lack of validation for trans women in the  history of women. My sisters, footsoldiers for the cause. What cruel irony. This man is holding onto this class by his fingernails, speaking through his teeth, hoping any of the twenty young adult women staring blankly or angrily at him will hear him and listen.

 Looking back, the professor’s responses to my emails are vague, completely refusing to acknowledge a point of view other than “WOW. I look forward to discussing this.”  I think he thinks he could be blackmailed. Anything he says on gmail dot com can and would be used against him. It’s like, really, really, really that bad. 

No ideology should involve a cultural cleaning of women’s history feat. witch hunts. 

I will end here with an excerpt from my first email to this professor:

I'm sure you know what a total bummer it is to realize this. 

[lewdbabies]

-confession-💗

Aged up Tamaki/My hero University

Tamaki Amajikixreader smut/fluff

warning:MDNI18+,smut,choking,tentacle play, oral,raw sex,breeding,praise kink,fluff,language, (I had to question myself after writing this one real horny shiii🤣)

“Will you tell me who your crush is already I’ve guessed almost every guy in our rank!” Miruko whispers low enough for the professor not to hear.

“We are in the middle of a lecture Miri can’t this wait?” You ask in a pleading tone jotting notes from the PowerPoint above. The professor turns shooting you a warning look for the disturbance, you nod apologetically shushing your bestfriend. Miri sticks her tongue out mockingly before turning to her notes once again. Your mind was going a million miles an hour as you dreamed about today’s later events. Today was the day you planned to confess to your longtime crush, Tamaki Amajiki.

The two of you met years prior during your enrollment to MHU, he stole your heart then and hasn’t given it back since. Despite being an incredible Pro hero in training you were known for being particularly clumsy. On your very first day of class the professor called you to introduce yourself and to no ones surprise, you tripped tumbling face first to the tile floor. It was so sudden that you had no reaction time, you simply closed your eyes accepting your Fate, but the impact never came. While everyone laughed at you, A long thick tentacle slithered around your waist supporting the full weight of your body, gracefully lifting you to your feet.

Reflexively your hands grab the appendage in an attempt to steady yourself. As your fingers gently brush the limb it retracted quickly back to its flustered owner. There he stood red as a tomato looking almost afraid as you met his shy gaze. The blush spread from the point of his ears all the way down to his strong neck, his beautiful dark eyes dart back and fourth nervously.

“A-are you okay?” He stutters quietly.

You almost didn’t hear the question over the loud thumping of your own heart, blood rushes to the apples of your cheeks.

“Y-yes I am now, thank you…?” You trail waiting for him to fill in the blank.

“T-tamaki Amajiki…and you are?” He asks, his voice laced with a false confidence, it was too cute.

“I am y/n a first year and future top hero” you state in a matter of fact way. His hand goes up to hide his mouth as he giggles, you swoon at his shy toothy smile.

“Well I’m happy I met you first “ he chirps happily giving you a coy nod, before walking away leaving you breathless.

Well that was two years ago and you still hadn’t told him how you feel out of fear of rejection. ‘What would the mighty suneater see in an underling like me’ you think doodling mindlessly on your notebook. You shake your head ridding yourself of the discouraging thoughts, today would be the day you finally told Tamaki you loved him. It was all planned out perfectly, you’d approach him and invite him over your dorm for dinner. Nothing out of the ordinary considering you two were friends, there’d been many nights you would hang out and watch movies together. It was always very platonic especially since every time you made a move, he’d clam up and make an excuse to leave early.

He was fine cuddling you, holding your hand, or pulling you into his lap during a scary movie but when you’d look up at him with those dazed lust filled eyes his flight response kicked in. When he found himself wanting to crash his lips against yours he would go into panic mode instantly. You admire him from your seat at the rear of the class, his shiny dark hair covers his eyes as he scribbles key points in his notebook. His jaw is sharp with tension as he focuses onto the professors every word. Off guard he looks like such an intense person almost unapproachable, you smile to yourself at the false notion. Tamaki was the sweetest most approachable man you’d ever met, no one could come close to his innocence.

Pulling out your iPhone you tap on the message icon clicking the name ‘Tama’.

2:45pm

Y/n: Hi cutie 😉

2:48pm

Tama: Hey😳

2:50pm

Y/n: Wanna come over for movie night?

2:55pm

Tama: who all is gonna be there?

2:58pm

Y/n: Just you and me tama 💗

3:03pm

Tama: Just the two of us Alone?

3:06pm

Y/n: yeah, all alone…is that weird it’s fine if you don’t want too I understand 😔

3:09pm

Tama: no no I want too I love hanging out with you y/n, want to walk home together then?

3:12pm

Y/n: I’d love too

3:16 pm

Tama: I’ll wait for you after class 💗

Tamaki flushes a bright red as he slides his phone securely back into his Jean pocket. You’re jumping for joy on the inside, he never sent you a heart before could it mean anything? You write it off as wishful thinking as you finish up the daily writing assignment. Class drags on but before you know it the bell is ringing for dismissal.

You stand shoving your journals into your book bag, Miri copies your actions as she interrogates you further.

“Come on spill it y/n who’s the guy you’re confessing too?” She stares at you arms folded.

“ Are you ready to go y/n?” Tamaki questions from behind.

The look of realization on Miruko’s face was absolutely priceless, you wish you could take a picture. Tamaki holds out a hand to you, without hesitation you tangle your fingers with his shooting miruko a wink. He pulls you along softly as you struggle to keep up with his long strides. The sun shines down highlighting the strands of purple in his midnight blue hair. You didn’t think it was possible but he’s even redder than usual. His gaze is cast forward, eye contact would be too much for him to handle so he focuses ahead.

“Tama weren’t we supposed to turn back there?” You question as he continues onward.

“Yeah but I wanted to make a quick stop I-is that okay?” He asks sounding unsure of himself.

“Of course it’s okay lead the way handsome” you insist giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. His eyes go wide at the compliment, your words sounded like sweet honey to his warm ears. One of his favorite things about you was how sweet you always were to him, praising him even when he felt like an idiot. The way you blindly trusted him to lead you, made him feel a new found sense of confidence. His timid nature never made you question his strength, you admired him as a hero and a man.

“How is your essay coming along y/n?” He asks softly.

“Ah don’t even bring that nightmare up, I have the worst writers block these days.” You sigh a wrinkle of stress pulling to your brow. Taking his index finger he rubs circles on the middle of your forehead soothing the tense muscles. You almost forget you’re walking as your eyelids droop in pleasure.

“Don’t stress too much, your papers are always amazing…you’re amazing at everything you do y/n” he admits shyly hiding behind his dark hair. You look down focusing on the pavement below as you have an internal panic. You deeply admired Tamaki and wanted nothing more than to be recognized by him.

“You’re amazing too…” you breath growing more embarrassed by the second.

“N-no I’m not, all the pro hero’s make fun of me for being to…weak spirited” his voice sounds unsteady.

“Don’t listen to them, they are all just intimidated by you. They’re just jealous they can’t be equally sweet and power like you tama” you say passionately.

He looks down at you, cheeks puffed, fist balled and flustered with second hand anger, he can’t help but smile at how cute you are. Letting go of your hand, he quickly replaces it on your head patting lovingly. Whenever he’s with you everything feels okay…everything feels right, his heart skips at your doll like eyes staring up at him. After five more minutes and a couple twist and turns you end up infront of the local sushi shop near campus.

“Sushi?!” You gasp eyes lighting up, you bounce excitedly next to him.

“Y-yeah I know it’s your favorite so…I wanted to treat you…M-make you feel special today” he stutters holding the door as you stride inside, the smell of spices and fresh sushi fills your senses. Tamaki pulls out a chair for you to sit before walking to the counter to pay for his order.

“Order for Amajiki?” The man says loudly earning a small flinch from Tamaki.

“Y-yes sir” he responds holding out his debit card.

“The Tako octopus roll and the California roll?!” The man half shouts, Tama nods frantically. The cashier takes the card swiping it and handing him the receipt, Tamaki grabs the bag walking over to you.

He holds his free hand out for you to take, you grab it happily following him out the restaurant.

~

“Are you sure you want to watch a scary movie y/n…you don’t seem to like them very much?” Tamaki asks in a concerned tone.

“I’m sure tama I won’t look away this time I swear!” You promise, holding up a pinkie, he catches it with his own smiling softly.

“Okay then! I believe in you bunny” he cheers with bright eyes. This was one of the rare times you could truly admire him without him hiding. Your eyes trail the lines of his lovely face, his eyes were dark and intense against his gentle features. The light pink of his cheeks contrasted beautifully with the red blush of his plump lips. His jaw was sharp adding a certain edge to him, trailing up you peak at his adorable pointed ears pocking out from behind his hair.

“You’re so…pretty” you mumble absent minded. Tamaki’s eyes go wide as his hands fly up to cover his face.

“W-what…you can’t say things like that so directly y/n” he pouts looking away .

“It’s okay for me to admire you tama no need to get all shy.” You assure him pecking a kiss to his hot cheek. Silently he grabs the remote turning on ‘Nightmare on elm street’ he gives you an encouraging smile before pressing play. The first thirty minutes are fine not to gore-y considering you both were able to finish your sushi without losing your appetite. Just as you and Tamaki begin sipping the hot chocolate you made for dessert, the blood bath begins. Your hands tremble with anxiety creating small chocolate waves in your cup. You decide to set it down, before cuddling deeper into your shared blanket bringing it up to your wide eyes.

“No looking away remember scaredy-cat “ he teases pulling the fabric away from your eyes.

“Be nice tama” you whine smacking his arm playfully.

“I know what will make you feel better…” he laughs slipping an arm around your waist pulling you into his lap. Soon after getting home you changed out of your hero uniforms, you throwing on a pair of cotton shorts that say ‘juicy’ on the back with a pink tank top, and him a stray pair of black sweat pants he’d left before. That being said you could feel…everything, he was rock hard and pressing between your thighs as you wiggle around on top of him.

His large hands dig into your hips holding you firmly in place, his warm breath tickles the back of your neck sending shivers down your spine.

“Stop bouncing…bunny” he purrs tracing the curve of your ear with his hot tongue.

You grind desperately into him as his hips push harder against your clothed pussy, your whines sound pathetic as you beg him for more.

“Touch me…please tama I need more” you moan. His hands rub the curve of your body, staying a respectful distance away from your needy flower. His palms Rest on the outer crest of your breasts fingertips just barely grazing your pert nipple. The anticipation is agonizingly good,wondering wether or not he would touch you drives you insane.

“H-how do you want me to touch you” he whimpers ,growing harder by the second.

“Anywhere Ah- explore me I’m all yours Tamaki uhn-“ you pant eyes fluttering with desire. The sound of his name coming from your aroused lips broke whatever strand of self control he had left . Taking your hard bud between his index finger and thumb he rolls it gently causing your back to arch into his touch. His teeth graze you nipping at the smooth skin of your neck, your nails claw at the material of his sweats. The sensation of his tongue on your throat and hands on your chest nearly causes you to gush right there. Just as you think it’s too much a new feeling arises between your thighs. A thick firm muscle like appendage teases at the crotch of your soaking panties making you moan even louder. The stray limb trails the line of your dripping slit pressing gently against your throbbing bud. Just as your head falls back in ecstasy the feeling stops dead in its tracks.

“O-oh no I lost control of my quirk again are you okay y/n I didn’t hurt you did I?! I’m so sorry If I did Im-“ his words are cut off by you spinning around to face him, squeezing his puffy red cheeks together as you kiss him tenderly. There was a conversation in that kiss an exchange of feelings that was long over due. His pulsing erection presses against your heat earning a perfectly placed gasp, he takes this opportunity to see if you are as sweet as your words. He groans into your mouth as your taste invades his senses, the only way to describe it would be a drunk feeling as your tongues dance together in harmony. His strong hands grip the plush of your ass, your hands card through his dark hair pulling roughly, asserting your dominance. A low growl is trapped in his throat as your hand wraps around his neck possessively, a thin glistening strand connects you as you pull away staring intensely into his innocent eyes.

“I-I’ve never seen you like this bunny…” he pants biting his quivering lip. The pad of your thumb rest just below his chin as you pull his lip from the grasp of his teeth.

“They’re so pretty it’s impolite not to share ” you scold staring at him with seductive eyes.

“S-share what?” He stutters shyly.

“Your lips-“ you trail sucking at his lower lip as you kiss him greedily. The tip of your finger goes up to caress the point of his flushed ear, his moan of pleasure is swallowed by your hungry lips. You pull away allowing precious air to flow through his strained lungs.

“Be a good boy for mommy and stop squirming tama.” You coo staring down into his low eyes. Your hand traces the outline of his strained member,it pulses under your finger tips with need. The hot tip of your tongue trails a line from his collar bone to blushing ear, his Adam’s apple bobs as he lets out a groan of pleasure. Your teeth nip lightly at his flustered lobe, working love bites all the way to the point of his ear.

“P-please b-bunny not the ears” he begs, his pleading words sound like music to your ears. He whimpers in relief as your fingers hook in the waistband of his sweats allowing his throbbing erection to spring free slapping against his stomach with an audible clap. To simply put it he was Huge, the subtle curve created a crest like dip on the upper side of his shaft. The large blush tip oozed clear sticky pre cum pooling on the smooth skin of his abs. A thick vein running from tip to base pulses steadily as your finger follows its length, he sat heavy and delicious. Maintaining eye contact you slide onto the floor right between his parted legs. Taking the liberty to remove his pants yourself, you throw them into a far off corner along with your shorts .

“You want me to suck your cock don’t you Tama to trail my tongue all the way from tip to hilt…mmm yeah you’re dripping all this pre just for me-“ you breath running the flat of your tongue over his shining slit.

“Ahhhh Ah d-don’t be so lewd bunny” he cry’s as his tip slides past your warm wet lips. A small gag mixes with the sound of your soft moans creating a vibrato around his twitching cock, his hands fist your hair pushing deeper into your throat. Taking him was no easy task, his girth alone puffed your cheeks testing the limits of your jaw. A thick clear coat covers his length as you pull away to run your tongue up the under side of his member. Both of your hands pump him in a twisting motion as you tease his blush cock-head with your hot tongue. Tears form in Tamaki’s eyes as you swallow him again, deep throating every thick delicious inch.

“Ah I-I’m gonna cum bunny” he groans trying to push away from your warm wet grip. Reaching up you trap his wrist in your small hands, with a loud wet pop you pull away for a quick breath before swallowing him once more. Your head bobs smoothly as spit dribbles down the length of his shaft, his brooding eyes lock on you as he orgasms. Tears fall down your face as he coats the inside of your cheeks with hot strings of cum. Your hand squeezes around his pulsing cock milking him for every sweet drop he had to offer. You swallow with a gulp sticking your tongue out for him to see.

His large hands grip your face pulling you to his fervent lips, your lips part allowing him to taste his mess. He kisses you with desperation cupping your jaw beckoning you closer. Breaking away, He flutters warm light kisses down your neck, his fingers hook your tank straps yanking them down with a loud rip. Your favorite tank top rips at the shoulders completely exposing your chest to his lustful gaze. The rough callous of his palms brush your bare peaked nipples sending a shiver down your spine.

“B-be gentle tama” you pant tangling your fingers in his dark hair.

“You like when I touch you right here bunny?” He breathes capturing the hard bud between his lips rolling it around his hot tongue. With his free hand he teases the other rubbing in a circular motion before pinching it softly.

There it was.

That feeling again, the long thick appendages swirling and tugging at your soft flesh. Two tentacles curve around your thighs forcing them apart, another slips between your legs flicking your swollen clit.

“More fuck I want more Tama” you cry tugging on his hair to support your trembling frame. The tentacle rubs over your slick entrance before pushing inside carefully, Tamaki watches your face to see how much you could take. Any signs of pain or discomfort he swore to stop immediately. Your mouth gapes in an O shape as he impales you on his thick limb, a stray tentacle slithers up your neck tracing the line of your plump lips.

“Open wide bunny…mmm yeah stick your tongue out for me just like that good girl” he praises as you eagerly take him into your throat. Your pussy clenches as he drills into you, filling you to the brim. The tentacle in your mouth retracts leaving a trail of drool dripping down your chin, you yelp as you feel something wet teasing your…other entrance. There was no time to protest before the well lubed limb breached your tight hole. It was a feeling you’d never felt before, the feeling of being completely stuffed. The limbs moved in opposite motions, as one pulled out the other rails inside you mercilessly. His hand grips your neck slamming you to his blushed lips, the taste of chocolate washes over your taste buds as you invade his mouth. Your Walls grip the limb squeezing tight around it’s thick girth. Suddenly the tentacle in your pussy retracts leaving you feeling hollow and empty.

“T-Tamaki don’t stop please- “ you beg through flustered lips, before you could utter another plea an animalistic sound leaves your throat as he rams his cock inside you bottoming out in one thrust. He impales you long,thick, and deep, cock-head tickling your g-spot without even moving. If he’d been any bigger it might have brushed your cervix, a quite painful thought, luckily he was just short of that giving you a nice comfortable fill.

“Look at me b-bunny, look who’s acting all shy now, don’t hide that pretty little lewd face you’re making for me, yeah show me how much you love this cock-“ he grunts digging into your hips as he rocks your ass up and down, using you as his own personal fuck toy.

Each thrust made your muscles contract pulling him deeper inside your soaking cunt. The tentacle in your ass speeds up stroking at a mind bending pace, another limb slips past Tamaki’s dripping Member trailing up to circle your swollen clit.

Your breast bounce causing your pert nipple to brush his eager lips, he sucks it into his hot mouth nipping lightly . Your mind can’t even comprehend the amount of shear ecstasy you were in, words could no longer form being replaced by thoughtless groans of pleasure. His cock quivered and pulsed inside you, the feeling of his thick vein caressing your sensitive walls made you gush around him. Your arms wrap around him for support as he fucks you through your orgasm, slamming you down on his swollen cock. The tentacle flicked furiously at your slick bud as you squirt, drenching his throbbing manhood and the couch cushions. With one final thrust he rails deep into you, filling your womb with hot shots of cum. It felt never ending as your walls milked his spent length forcing out every last drop of sticky semen.

“T-Tamaki…” you sigh nuzzling into his sweat glistened neck.

“Yes y/n…”he whispers stroking your cheek with the rough pad of his thumb.

“ you’re so special” you feel his muscles tighten beneath you .

“I think your s-special too…I always have, even if people laugh at you that beautiful smile never wavers…you’re stronger than them all bunny” he continues shyly.

“I’ve b-been wanting to confess something to you for a l-long time now y/n…I want you like this wait that sounds bad I-I don’t mean in a sexual way I want more…I want to be the n-number one man in your life” he says in confidence , voice slightly trembling nervously.

“You already are and always will be Tamaki “ you admit.

“I love you y/n” he says grabbing your face and pressing a soft kiss to your parted lips.

“ I love you too Tama” you breath.

the end 💗

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